AN: Thank you to everyone that reviewed, followed and added this story to their favourites. I'm really happy.

It'll take some time to update the next chapters as I'm still deciding exactly in what direction I'll take this story. Though I couldn't wait anymore and decided publish another chapter to anyone who is curious.

And I apologize beforehand if you find some glaring misspelling and grammatical error. I'm not English and the language was mostly self-taught along the years.

Have a good read and if you wish, tell me what you think about it. Thanks!


''If nothing else, there's comfort in recognizing that no matter how much we fail and sin, death will limit our suffering.''

Chuck Palahniuck

CHAPTER ONE – REACTIONS

The morning of the 28th of December brought tragic news for the wizarding world that had shocked everyone, Light and Dark sides alike.

TRAGIC DEATH TO THE WIZARDING WORLD, by Sarah Silvers

THE BOY-WHO-LIVED FOUND DEAD BY MUGGLES

It's with a heavy heart that we, at the Prophet Diary, inform our dear readers that Harry Potter was found dead yesterday morning by a couple of passing muggles on their morning walk with their dog, in the back garden of his relatives' house.

''We were taking our morning walk like we do every morning around the neighbourhood, since we moved here about a year ago, when our Luc (the dog) started whining and snuck through the large fence into the Dursley's (Potter's relatives) garden. I quickly followed, because it could be anything and I wouldn't trust that awful boy Dudley alone with my Luc. There have been rumours around that that boy had attacked some other animals in the neighbourhood, though no one ever could prove anything.'' Mrs. Anne-Sophie Spencer, the one that had found Harry Potter, told us when questioned about what she had seen. ''What I found on the other side was simply horrific. There, lying in the snow was a boy that had been heavily beaten and had most definitely frozen to death'', she continued evenly, despite starting to become distressed with the subject. ''You see, I was a nurse for almost forty years and I know an abused child when I see one. After checking that there was not really anything that I could do, I told Robert, my husband, to run to our house and call the police and the ambulance. When they arrived, I gave my testimony and when asked if I suspected of someone, I told them that I was sure it had been his uncle or his cousin. Along the years, some people have seen Dudley and his gang chasing and beating the poor boy in several occasions though no one had said anything against them for fear of reprisals. There is another rumour from a few years back about a teacher that had called the Child Services on the Dursley's because young Harry appeared mistreated, showing signs of mal-nutrition and neglect, and a few days later the teacher had been fired and the Child Services never came again. Despite not saying anything, everyone knew that Vernon had done something to remove their suspicions and so avoided talking about it if they were ever in earshot.''

When I expressed my utter shock at this revealing news, the madam assured me that wasn't all.

''The Dursley's had always told everyone that would listen that their nephew was a good-for-nothing that was always in some kind of trouble. He had been enrolled in St. Brutus for Criminal Boys, since age 11, because they feared that the boy would become like his jobless and drunk parents that had died in a car crash.''

My dear readers, I was speechless at that outrageous defamation. Imagine, Lily and James Potter, heroes of our world, recipients of the Order of the Merlin, first class, post mortem, slandered about by muggles like they were common criminals.

The several witnesses, who had gathered after Mr. Spencer sounded the alarm, told us readily how everything had ensued when the police and ambulance arrived at the scene.

The Dursley's had been caught out of guard when the police officers knocked on their front door, seemingly just out of bed. When enquired about his nephew, Vernon Dursley at first ranted furiously about what 'the freak had done this time' and after being informed that Harry had been found dead, he had paled suddenly and sputtered incomprehensibly before saying that the boy had left the evening before and Vernon didn't know where he went. The aunt's and cousin's responses were given in the same fashion. All of them were asked to go along with them to the police station to give their testimonies.

The Department of Law and Magical Enforcement had been swiftly informed of this terrible occurrence, taking immediate action. Only an hour later Madam Amelia Bones grimly confirmed that Vernon Dursley had been found guilty and the date of the trial would be announced in the nearest future.

The funeral of Harry Potter is scheduled to tomorrow at 2 pm on Godric's Hollows and the body will be buried next to his parents.


At Hogwarts that morning, the silence that fell upon the Great Hall was intense as the Teaching Staff at the breakfast table had been shocked speechless by the terrible news brought by the newspaper.

The first to react was the ever stoic Professor Minerva McGonagall (who was everything but that at the moment). She lifted herself from her place, face frozen in shocked disbelief – an expression mirrored by everyone in the room.

''Oh Merlin, it can't be true'', she protested faintly. She seemed to try to convince herself, though without success. Harry was one of her favourite Lions and the beloved son of the two students she had considered almost like her children.

At her right side, the Potions Master, Professor Severus Snape, had turned an unhealthy white pallor and hadn't left the article out of his sight as if trying to detect an illusion spell on the newspaper and determine that it was only a bad-taste joke, after all. He simply could not believe that what he was seeing was accurate; Albus had told everyone that the Potter brat was beyond spoiled at home, and he had blindly believed in the old man like everyone else. If that article proved to be true (which seemed likelier by the second), he had failed utterly in his vow to protect Lily's son from harm.

The other Staff reacted within the same fashion, each and every one horrified and wanting to deny the true facts as some sick joke, despite knowing that it would be very unlikely. Everyone knew that the Prophet Diary most of the time blew the situations out of proportions to garner more readers, but they just knew that in this case was not likely at all.


That same morning at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, there could be heard anguished howls from a grieving werewolf and despairing cries from a grim animagus after they learned of the death of their godson.

''It's my fault, Moony!'', Sirius Black wept, devastated. ''I agreed with Dumbledore in sending him to that hell hole. He said that Harry needed some time alone and I stupidly consented. What he must have thought of me, Merlin…''

Remus Lupin didn't say anything; he was in too much shock. His cub was dead and he shared some of the guilt as well. Like everyone else, he had blindly followed the word of the great headmaster. He had abandoned him for the second time now – being the first when Lily and James had been murdered and he went away and left Harry to his muggle relatives without protesting once Dumbledore's decision – and his thoughtless decision had generated an irreversible and unbearable situation.


At the unplottable and secret Dark Lord's manor, Voldemort was drinking his morning tea and plotting, when Wormtail scurried to his side franticly shaking the morning newspaper.

''My Lord, my Lord!'', the servant called, as if his master hadn't already noticed his appearance and was becoming more annoyed by the second by his follower's rudeness. ''They say in the newspaper that Harry Potter is dead!''

''What?'', the Dark Lord demanded in shock, ceasing in his intention of taking out his wand and punish the other man for his lack of respect to his master. ''Give me that paper'', Voldemort ordered, after recovering his usual demeanour, and extended his hand.

Wormtail obeyed quickly and fled the room, not wishing to stay and witness his master's reaction to the news.


After reading the article, Voldemort was torn. On one hand, he was happy: his enemy, and prophesied defeater was dead and that could only mean good things for his side of war; on the other, he was annoyed and not the least bit impressed that a filthy muggle had succeeded in doing something that he hadn't been able to – which was one of reasons that he had ordered his Death Eaters to let the Boy-Who-Lived alone, as the boy was for him alone to take down.

In the end, he decided to chalk it up to luck on the muggle's side in succeeding in killing the boy-wonder and be happy that one of the large thorns on his side was gone for good. He smirked gleefully at the thought of what expected the old man for allowing his Golden Boy to die, at the hands of muggles no less. Like everyone else, he knew that Dumbledore had preached for years that Potter was safe and happy with his muggles relatives. Voldemort wanted to see what excuses he'd come up with to save his own skin and avoid a revolt against the very same muggles that he liked to defend all the time.

The Dark Lord chuckled with dark humour; this war was looking up his way already. He needed to call Lucius and his other Death Eaters belonging to the Wizengamot. They had an old wizard to politically lynch in the coming trial.

The evening before of the Daily Prophet's shocking news, the great Albus Dumbledore was not, in fact, feeling that great. He had been in his office, happily sucking on his beloved lemon drops and plotting his manipulations towards Harry Potter for the next coming months, when Amelia Bones had called him through the Floo. He had sensed instantly that whatever was going on did not bear good news to him at all.

It was not often that the Head of the Department of Law and Magical Enforcement herself called Albus directly through the Floo without the old wizard having any inkling that something had happened; and Amelia seemed to glare accusatorily at him, blaming him somehow for whatever had occurred.

''Hello, Amelia'', Albus greeted her kindly and cheerfully nonetheless; independently of any situation, his grandfather mask was always in place. ''How may I help you?''

''Albus, I received this news not long ago and it is my responsibility to inform the Headmaster of Hogwarts if any student is dead'', she said grimly and bluntly, her face seemed like carved in stone and her glare unchanging.

Dumbledore promptly lost his happy attitude at that and felt something start to knot inside his stomach. If it was some random student that had died, he would not worry too much, despite what he would make the magical world believe, however, something told him that he, indeed, would be more honest in his unhappiness this time around.

''Who is it?'', he simply asked, somewhat already knowing the answer.

He had known that it was risky to force the Boy-Who-Lived to stay with the Muggles for the Winter Break, but he could not let the boy's behaviour of the last few months to continue unchecked; Harry had been distant and cold towards anyone, an attitude that was very unbecoming of the saviour of the magical world. With this in mind, the old man had decided that a few weeks in the Muggle World would remember Harry of his rightful place, and once back, he surely would be grateful for having the magical world and his friends close to him again.

''Harry Potter was found dead this morning. Everything points towards his muggle uncle,'' Amelia stated evenly and the headmaster paled drastically, ''though, for the moment, the three Dursley's are being kept to be further questioned at the Ministry.''

In that instant, Albus Dumbledore felt all his ageing years and then some. Everything that he had worked so long for was ruined. All the manipulations, the tests that Harry had been put through, the people he had to pay to follow all his orders without fail; everything was now for nothing. He had needed the boy alive long enough to meet his objective: defeat and destroy Voldemort, as the Prophecy had stated; and if he had died doing it, even better as the old man had no need for the boy after that. Nevertheless, with Harry now dead, the path for the Dark Lord to win this war was as good as free. He simply would not allow that so he needed to think of a solution and fast.

Perhaps, I could use Neville Longbottom, the thought lit up in his mind like an epiphany. Yes, the boy has no friends and his grandmother is not really the caring type. With a little work, the boy could be of use. The old man decided silently, his sense of hope returning. His mind was already plotting ways to bring the young wizard into a 'strong friendship' with Granger and Weasley. Augusta Longbottom would be easily convinced that his grandson was after all the prophesied child, as the old woman's greatest wish was that Neville should be like his Auror father. And the wizarding world would follow blindly when Albus announced Neville as the true future defeater of the Dark Lord as soon as the Ministry finally acknowledged that Voldemort really was back.

And as I am Harry's Magical Guardian, I can claim all his Vaults at Gringotts as there is no more living Potter's to collect them, he mused gleefully. No one would dare refute the most powerful wizard's words of their world, after all. All the things he could accomplish with all that gold, Merlin! He felt almost light-headed at that thought. Despite knowing of the Family Vaults' existence, up until now, Albus had only been able to legally take out money of the Trust Vault the boy had been using since his eleventh birthday, to pay all his 'friends' and relatives. The other amounts of gold that were retrieved from the main Potter accounts were sporadic at best, as the goblin in charge of them couldn't do much more without raising unwanted suspicions to the inactive vaults.

Unbeknownst to the headmaster lost in his machinations, Amelia Bones was watching the old man sharply. Even though his expression did not change much, the witch had not reached her official post without abundant intelligence and perspicacity accompanied by her admittedly great aptitudes as an Auror for many years (it was a very well-kept secret that the Sorting Hat wavered for a moment between Hufflepuff and Slytherin, before deciding for the house of the badger), and thus she noticed that even though Albus had been genuinely shocked by the tragic news, he was already plotting something to solve this situation more to his advantage. Being already aware of the true happenings at Privet Drive for the past fourteen years by a helpful witch that she had met that same day, Amelia had to fight her instinct to remain in silence about those revelations. After all, she had no concrete evidences at the moment and it wouldn't do to warn Dumbledore that somehow she knew more than she was letting on.

''It is a great loss, Harry was a boy full of potential'', the headmaster declared at last, his voice grief-stricken, resurfacing from his plans, almost forgetting that he was not alone in his office. ''I assume that his funeral will be soon?''

Amelia kept all her findings and opinions behind her own mask and simply nodded and answered, ''Yes, the day after tomorrow, at 2pm at Godric's Hollows.''

Albus nodded in agreement, his mask still of an old man mourning. ''The perfect place, I'm sure that Harry will be happy to be reunited with his parents at last. And of course, I'll be there, as well as the teaching staff''.

''Very well, Albus'', Amelia said. And with that she disconnected the Floo call, leaving the old man to his manipulations.