Disclaimer: Harry Potter belong to Ms. Joanne Rowling. The following is a piece of fan fiction: I do not own any of the names, places or characters, neither the story of the Harry Potter books. This is merely a written version of what I thought could have happened after reading the last book.

A/N: Welcome to my first fan fiction! In this Dumbledore is good and was a mentor to Harry, but all of it can be read in any way you want really, so please enjoy. I hope you will like it!

The Lost Prophecy

It was over. The war was won. Voldemort dead and the prophecy fulfilled. Or so they thought.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin - First Class, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, sat in his office letting all of his 120 years show on his face.

He remembered a cold, wet night more than 20 years ago, and a room above the bar at the Hog's Head inn:

'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have powers that the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives...the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.'

The day The Boy who Lived, The Chosen One, defeated Voldemort was a day of celebration to the wizarding world. But to some, to whom Harry Potter was, well, just Harry, it was a day of mourning. For that day, Harry gave his life, for his friends, his family, and those who he will never meet.

As that day, Harry Potter died to save the world.

He would be remembered of course, perhaps as well, or even more than Merlin, in the minds of men for centuries to come. But to those, who's lives he touched, they will remember a boy who never had a chance to live an ordinary life, have a family that he could call his own, who he loved and was loved in return. They will remember a boy who didn't have a chance to say goodbye to his friends, that he cared so much for, a boy who selflessly sacrificed himself for their happiness.

Albus sat in his office, head in his hands. He was not long for this world, but that did not bother him. After all, the world was a better place: the ministry was reforming and the prejudice of muggle-borns and pure-blood was long gone. Goblins and House-elves were being respected more and more and Voldemort was dead.

The war was won. It was over. '...for neither can live while the other survives.' Albus felt shame and grief as he contemplated the cruelty of fate.

He was reminded again, of that time. Ariana. There were many things that he regretted in his life. But none as mush as those two. Ariana and Harry.

Harry, oh Harry. I am sorry, my boy. I am sorry.

'Neither can live while the other survives,' he murmured, 'though neither will live should the other die.'

28|08|2015

A/N: Thank you, and Happy Reading!