Warnings: Character death, Violence and sensitive theme, AU

Pairings: Harry & Susan/Ginny, Ron & Hermione

Changes: 1) Draco doesn't leave with the death eaters when they escape Hogwarts; 2) Harry and Ginny have not paired, yet

A/N: One word. Enjoy!

Prologue

An old lady sat at a round worn out table, looking intensely at a glass sphere. The seer gazed at the crystal ball in the quest for the future of a certain someone. That someone was going to be responsible for the change in the future of the world, for better or worse. She was a Trelawney, but unlike her younger sister, she was talented and preferred seclusion. She lived in a small hut surrounded by a dense forest, only magic sustaining her life. She felt that such an environment enhanced her talent. Any knowledge which she gained from her clairvoyance was locked within herself. She knew that if this information was disclosed, it would only twist the present and wreck the future. According to her, the future should only be viewed and not changed.

She looked at the ball after opening her mind's eye and suddenly the cloud of smoke started to disappear, replaced by a scene of the future.

A hazy mist of smoke floated in the air. The air was heavy with a stench of burnt flesh and dried blood. Everything was quiet; as silent as a graveyard. As a matter of fact, it looked like a graveyard as well. The only difference was the bodies were yet to be buried, which were strewn all over the place, lying in pools of blood. Some lay face down, as if unable to show their ashamed faces, while others looking at the sky with dead eyes, cursing the gods for their ill fate.

Some bodies flinched and moved as though unable to accept that they were dead. A wheezing noise could be heard coming from one of the bodies, choking on its last breath. Some of the dead were bleeding from wounds which were not inflicted by a human. The wounds were so deep and ghastly that even looking at them hurt the eyes. They were lucky to be dead; if you could call that lucky. They bled relentlessly from the cursed wounds as if they were trying to drain themselves dry. There was so much blood that the ground seemed to be painted a deep red.

All bodies had one thing in common; they wore black robes. Not one however. This one was lying with his back supported by the crumbling wall of a dilapidated building. He was dead; nearly dead actually. The eyes were open but unfocused. His breathing was light and irregular. His blood soaked blue robe was torn to shreds. His shoulder length hair was soaked in blood. Two wands lay at his either side loosely held by the fingers; wands which had killed many. So many that he had lost count. His soul was almost completely tainted by the blood of his victims.

His chest moved up and down, the only sign of life within him. The handsome face was marred with cuts and grazes. His face gave an impression of his age to be in the early twenties but the eyes looked as if they had lived through a century of suffering. His clouded blue eyes saw only black. Unconcealed pain emanated from them, grieving over the people close to him who he had lost.

He was exhausted; tired of all the fighting; tired of his sick and twisted life. Death stood in front of him, inviting him to eternal comfort and relief. It tried to tempt him with everlasting bliss and peace. His body trembled, as if whimpering, pleading with the soul for mercy; to relieve it of its pain. It seemed to be begging with the soul to accept death's generous offer. It was too alluring to be declined by a mere mortal. More so if one was on a death bed. However, he refused, leaving death a bit disappointed. A small smile broke on his face; that's all he could manage anyway. He was either going crazy or the loss of blood was causing him to imagine things. The latter was more agreeable, at least that's what he hoped. He searched within him to find the flame still burning with determination, reminding him of what needs to be done. He couldn't die now. He still had a little thing to do. He was born to accomplish that little thing. He promised death that he would willingly accept its offer after that.

His time was not now. He had to live. After all, he was Harry Potter.

"Professor, are you alright?" Harry enquired with concern reflecting from his eyes. Dumbledore was leaning against the desk, sweat dripping down his face which had paled considerably. A faint tremble through his body and heavy breathing were giving the headmaster a rather frail look. This was a stark contrast to his usual powerful and commanding personality.

"If I tell you I'm fine, I would be lying through my teeth, won't I?" Dumbledore replied with a hint of twinkle in his eyes and slowly made his way towards his high back chair, which looked more like a throne decorated with patterns of foliage, animals and birds on a gild background. They were in the headmaster's office as had been the routine for Harry and Dumbledore for the whole of Harry's sixth year. The main aim of these private sessions was to train Harry mainly in the field of Occlumency. Occasionally, the headmaster would give some insight on defense and battle strategies as well. It was nearly the end of Harry's sixth year, uninteresting compared to what he had been through in the last five years. After making himself comfortable, he took a sip from his goblet and popped a lemon drop in his mouth and asked "Want one?"

"No, thank you." Harry declined politely. He had been observing Dumbledore as he was moving; ready to provide support at the slightest hint of weakness.

"I'm alright now. My age is catching up to me so you needn't worry." Professor declared in a strong voice, clearing Harry's qualms about his health. "Anyway, I would like to congratulate you on the success you have made so far on your Occlumency skills; you have achieved a level well beyond your years."

"I… thank you Professor..." Harry looked pleased by the praise from his mentor but he still had doubts. "… but I can barely manage to block my mind for a few minutes from your mental assault. Also it seems this training has failed to prevent all those… those visions of Voldermort's revelries which have invaded my sleep." Harry completed with a darkened look in his face.

"I have realized that a while ago. I had assumed that the connection between you and Tom was similar to Legilimency but it seems I was mistaken. However, I'm sure this skill will not go to waste and you will find it handy in the future." Professor assured Harry who still looked somewhat unconvinced. He continued, "And as for what you said earlier, let me tell you that I'm no amateur in the art of Legilimency. In fact, if I don't trouble myself being modest, I'm one of the best." Professor said with his usual twinkle in his eye. "You have come far from where you were last year, so don't belittle yourself."

"Do you think someone else, say for example… Hermione, would have fared better than me?" Harry speculated.

"Well, I would say yes," Dumbledore replied thoughtfully, but when Harry looked disheartened by his observation, he quickly put "but you are doing injustice to yourself by comparing her brilliant mind to yours. However, this is just conjecture on my part since mastering Occlumency cannot be achieved solely through brilliance. It needs a strong mind and a will to achieve excellence, both of which you have in abundance." Harry reddened slightly at his headmaster's words. "Now don't go comparing your skills against your friend Ron, because you should beat him hands down. However, I will certainly deny that I said this about Ron." Dumbledore mused with a smile playing over his face. Harry chuckled but his smile didn't reach his eyes.

"I feel so… unprepared for what I have to do." Harry sighed. "Don't get me wrong but I fear I have wasted too much time on a skill which is not much useful to me if you look at the big picture. There is a war at hand and I would need all the training I can get to be as competent as an auror if not better. If I honestly evaluate my skills, I would be above average at best." Harry reflected dejectedly.

"Don't sell yourself short, Harry. Now is not the time for you to judge and compare yourself with others." Dumbledore advised. "You will be prepared for what needs to be done when the time comes. Besides, you are giving very less credit to your Occlumency training. You will find it very helpful in more ways than you can imagine in the future." Dumbledore pointed out with a knowing smile leaving Harry a bit confused. "Don't let the prophecy get to you, it is only applicable if you choose to accept it; there is always an option to look the other way. However, I am certain that you have never even thought of disregarding the prophecy, on the other hand you feel it is your obligation to vanquish the dark lord. I have told you many a times that your time will come and you need to be patient. Nevertheless, prophecy or no prophecy, we will do our best to defeat him, or delay him at best till we deem you ready."

"When would that be?" Harry asked, perturbed and frustrated due to the inaction on his part. With each death at the hands of Voldermort's and his minions, Harry felt weighed down and guilty. He felt as if the world was whispering behind his back about his inability to carry out his duty.

"Soon… very soon." Dumbledore did his best to reassure him, but without much success. He tried to distract Harry's mind elsewhere. "Have you disclosed the prophecy to your friends?" Dumbledore inquired.

Harry looked slightly surprised at the sudden change of subject. "Well… not yet. I have tried multiple times to tell Ron and Hermione about it but each time I failed to make myself get through it." Harry exhaled. At the inquiring look on Dumbledore, Harry continued, "It's not that I don't trust them, it's just that I fear that maybe they will distant themselves from me realizing how much danger they will be in by just being my friends. I know I am being paranoid; after all we have been through together, they won't think twice about being with me, but this feeling in the back of my mind keeps nagging me about the other possibility."

"You have cleared your own reservations, Harry. However, I would advise you to think it over whether anyone needs to know about it or not." Dumbledore said contemplatively.

"Professor, are you saying that I should not tell my friends about the prophecy?" Harry asked incredulously, confused at the unexpected change in Dumbledore's advice.

"Not exactly. It's your decision whether you choose to tell them or not. I realize that telling them would in a way lift a great burden of your shoulders; I'm only saying that you should consider the danger you will be putting them into and increasing the chances of the prophecy being revealed and ending up in the wrong ears." Dumbledore stated.

Harry was perplexed at what Dumbledore was saying now and what he had told him earlier at the end of his fifth year. Dumbledore waited in silence while Harry contemplated what the headmaster had said. Harry looked around the room while he was pondering on how withholding the prophecy would affect him and everyone around him; he noticed that Dumbledore's Pensieve was missing.

"Umm… Professor Dumbledore, I can't seem to find your Pensieve anywhere in your office." Harry pointed out. Dumbledore looked amused.

"I had to lend it to my friend. He was complaining that his thoughts were too muddled." Dumbledore chuckled at his own joke while Harry offered a small smile. "You needed it for something?"

"No, not at all. I was just enquiring since I have always seen it there." There was another bout of silence in which Harry kept fidgeting in his seat while Dumbledore observed his ward with a hint of interest. There was obviously something on Harry's mind and was deciding to express himself or not.

Finally, making up his mind, Harry blurted out, "What are you planning to do with Malfoy? I know we have been through this many times before but I can't fathom why you refuse to heed my warnings and continue to act as if nothing has happened while he goes about planning ways to do you in. And please don't tell me that it was not his doing, we both know who is responsible for those attempts to take your life."

"As I have told you before, I have left Draco in the capable hands of Professor Snape." Dumbledore reassured him patiently but with a tone which indicated that no further discussion on the topic would be entertained.

Harry went on not noticing the tone. "I seriously doubt that it would help. Especially if Snape is in cahoots with Malfoy and they both-"

"Enough!" Dumbledore interrupted authoritatively but without any harshness, ending Harry's rant. "Please do not mock me on my judgment to trust Professor Snape; I have my reasons as I have told you earlier. I have lived for more than a century and I have experienced life in ways not many have. I have learned to read people and understand them better than they do themselves. I have made many decisions in my life and have rarely found myself in the wrong. However, I have certainly made some mistakes, some of which have caused you lot of grievances. I am terribly sorry about it, Harry." Dumbledore paused, slightly overcome by emotion. Harry felt both ashamed and embarrassed by his rant and Dumbledore's apology. "I have always cared about you Harry, like… like my grandson." Eyes glazed, Dumbledore continued. "I will not endanger you anymore than I already have. I hope you trust me on that?"

Harry could only nod, tears streaking down his cheek overcome with emotion; afraid if he opens his mouth, he might break down. At the back of his mind he knew that Dumbledore was right in placing him in the care of his relatives to take advantage of the blood protection, but it had been easier to blame the headmaster for his hardships.

"I have never told you about me or my past." Dumbeldore affirmed, while Harry squirmed in his seat feeling guilty at never trying to know more about his headmaster, his mentor. As if reading his mind, Dumbeldore said, "I don't think I would have told you much if you had asked anyway. In fact very few people know me. I have always kept people at a distance, never allowing them too close to me fearing that they may end up at the other side of the wand at my expense. It was the price I had to pay for being a powerful wizard, who was both respected and feared. I was a prodigy in my school days; my magical prowess far surpassed most adults. Most people envied me and dreaded that I would take their place, hence ending up with more enemies than friends. Even my friends kept their distance, afraid with what was happening around me. I had also played some part in isolating myself from the people closed to me; didn't help much though. I lost my parents and my sister at the hands of Grindelwald, the dark wizard of my time. I had become thirsty for his blood, so much so as to become almost like him. I didn't become another dark wizard but I showed no mercy in the battles with the dark army, killing countless of them till I managed to slay my arch-nemesis. However, the face of each person I have killed haunts me till date. I had many sleepless nights till I came to terms with what I had done. I am not proud of it even though I had been praised for my efforts in the wars of the past. Praised by people who are unaware or otherwise ignorant about what it takes to win a battle, how much blood is shed. Seeing your friends and your loved ones die in front you is a torture no one can bear without breaking down, as you must have already experienced, Harry. I somehow managed to get a hold of myself and pulled through my past. It's the life I have led that I wouldn't even have my enemies to relive. I have been alone most of my life seeking little pleasures that came my way. Nevertheless, I have had a time of my life being the headmaster of Hogwarts, cherishing every moment I remember, every emotion that I have shared and seen among my students. I finally feel content with my journey in this world and I am all set for the next." Dumbledore ended his lament with moist eyes. Dumbledore looked exhausted, as if the effort to tell him all that had sapped the energy out of him.

Harry was at a loss of words, feeling honored and privileged since Dumbledore had practically opened his heart out to him, making him one of the few people who knew the contents of what he had heard. Harry was touched by Dumbledore's words, the intimate thoughts and feelings he had shared with him. A mere thank you would have been insufficient but he didn't have anything else to say. "I… thank you…"

"It's Ok, Harry." Dumbledore said, the twinkle returning in his eyes. "I didn't mean to share this with you to make you realize the grim realities of life, my only aim was to show you the mistakes that I made, hoping you won't repeat them. Treasure every moment and indulge in all the happiness around you. You have a long way ahead and you need all the love you can get to overcome the final hurdle. I have total faith in you that you will do your best."

Harry contemplated the wise words of Dumbledore and realized how true they were. It seemed that he had been following the same path that his headmaster had followed. However, Dumbledore had managed to point out how flawed his thinking was and he mentally promised himself to try and change the ways of his life.

Dumbledore's twinkle suddenly disappeared replaced by a mixture of panic and sadness. He tried to remain calm but his eyes disagreed with his composure, which didn't go amiss by Harry. Before he could question the change in his headmaster's demeanor, Dumbledore said with a faint tremble in his voice. "Be strong Harry and know that I have always will care for you. It seems I have taken too much of your time with an old man's misgivings. You better get back to your dorm now and join your friends and enjoy the last few days of the term." Dumbledore looked somewhere behind Harry and before Harry could follow his gaze, Dumbledore put in quickly pointing his finger to a door almost hidden behind a cupboard, "Umm… do you mind fetching me a book from my library, I think I am too tired to move." Harry was so perplexed due to the unexpected change in Dumbledore's change in attitude and the odd request off him, that he didn't move at first. "I need the 'The Magical Mystery' which is in the second shelf, three rows from the top." Dumbledore urged Harry with a tone laced with barely restrained urgency. Harry quickly got and made his way towards the personal library trying to comprehend what was going on. He was about to enter the door when he froze, literally. A familiar strange tingling sensation moving from his head to toe but Harry could not place what it was. He tried to move but only managing his frozen body lean on the door like a wooden plank. He was petrified by someone, but who could it be other than Dumbledore.

He suddenly heard the gargoyle move followed by thundering footsteps. What was going on? However, it soon became clear.

"Ah! How nice of you all to show up. Bella, Yaxley, Gibbon and Carrow." greeted Dumbledore as if they were long-lost friends.

"Don't move!" a female voice screeched in order. "You are getting old Dumby, didn't even have the wand ready at hand. Are you feeling so safe in your… little castle?"

Dumbledore chuckled and said with amusement, "You haven't lost touch with your silly jokes, have you Bella?"

Harry was enraged. He could never forget the killer of his godfather and the person responsible was right behind him. He tried to struggle but couldn't move an inch.

Bellatrix was irritated at having caused no fear in Dumbledore. "You are at the end of our wands, unarmed and exposed. We might spare you if you grovel at our feet and beg for mercy?"

"Well Bella, you amuse me by your lies. Did you really expect I would do such a thing anyway?" Dumbledore stated dead-panned. Bellatrix's retort was interrupted when the gargoyle moved again letting another series of footsteps in.

"Ah, Snape, you are late... Where is he?" Another male voice asked the newest entry, glad at the interruption in the verbal battle.

Snape! He must save Professor Dumbledore! Harry beseeched silently. He again tried to break free of the body bind curse but to no avail. He couldn't get rid of the feeling that things won't go as he was expecting. He could not only hear what was going on behind him but could actually sense the tension in the air.

"Severus…" Dumbledore pleaded, which shocked everyone inside the office including Harry. Harry was terrified at the defeated tone of the headmaster; he had never expected to hear that kind of tone from him. Something awful was going to happen!

After a quick shuffle of robes, Harry heard the dreaded words from none other than his potions master, "Avada Kedavra!" There was a green glow which ended up in a ghastly silence. "The deed is done, let's go." Snape ordered without a trace of emotions in his voice followed by a rush of footsteps disappearing through the gargoyle.

Harry felt devastated, paralyzed by emotions that were no longer in his control. He suddenly realized that he could move again, but his body refused to budge from the slumped position on floor. After a bit of effort he turned around and walked back into the front of room, dreading what he was about to see. He found Dumbledore seated in his chair with his back towards him. He thought that he must have imagined what he had experienced and Dumbledore would turn around with a smile on his face and his usual twinkling eyes. But that was just wishful thinking and Harry knew it. He moved towards the chair, each step being as difficult as the previous as if his legs were made of lead.

Finally, coming around the chair, he found Dumbledore's prone form leaning in the chair. There was a serene look in his face, eyes closed and a small smile on his face. If anyone would have seen him like this, they would have thought that the headmaster was taking a nap and a having a pleasant dream. Then suddenly reality hit him. He slumped down on the handle, the dam of emotions breaking down and he did something he had never done before in his whole life. Harry cried. Cried for the mentor he had lost, for the person who had cared for him, for the leader who he had always looked upon and found courage from, for the professor who had guided him, for the headmaster who had showed him the right way and finally he cried for his own pain. He was truly gone and there was no one that could replace him. Harry slid to the floor weakened due to the amount of mental strain caused by the barrage of emotions. At last his cries became muffled as Harry drifted into unconsciousness.

A/N: Yes! I finally wrote my first chapter. Many more to go. I hope everyone enjoys it. I have tried to make it as unique as possible and tried my best to avoid all the cliches. I would appreciate if anyone points out where I falter in either grammar or content. I am open to suggestions as well. Thanks for reading!