Harry did not know what hit him. One moment he was in the garden taking care of the roses, and the next a car had crashed into him.
He was taken to the hospital, but was declared dead only moments later.
Well, his body was. But his scar still had the horcrux, and he was still tethered to this world.
A black mist appeared over his body, in the shape of a young boy with black hair, a scar, and dark green eyes.
Harry had become a phantom.
All of this had happened when he was nine years old. None of the wards of Dumbledore, set up to notify when something happens, were triggered. But a Mrs. Figg saw what happened and immediately contacted Dumbledore.
Mrs. Figg, placing her head in her fireplace, shouted out "Hogwarts Headmaster office".
Dumbledore, who was sitting at his desk, saw Mrs. Figg's head in the fire.
Kneeling down, Dumbledore placed his head in and answered. "Yes, what is it?"
"It's Harry, he was just hit with a car in his front lawn. He was sent to the hospital. I don't know what has happened to him."
Alarmed, Dumbledore immediately stepped into the flames, throwing in a handful of floo powder, incanting "Privet Drive" before disappearing in the flames.
At Mrs. Figg's place, Dumbledore appeared out of the flames, stepping into the living room, dusting off ash.
"I will visit him in the hospital. You stay here in case something else happens, and report back to me later."
Dumbledore than disapparated with a crack.
At the hospital, a man in long sleeved suit, of outlandish orange, appeared in the front entrance of the emergency room.
Dumbledore, tripping over his loose suit pants, hurried into the hospital lobby.
"I am looking for a boy, Harry Potter, he was recently in a car crash."
"Just a minute. Yes, we have a Harry Potter. But who are you?"
"I am his grand father", Dumbledore flashed his fake magicked ID.
"Where is he" he said urgently.
"The doctor is down the hall, he can deal with your queries. He was put in room 213."
At that moment, the phantom over Harry's body moved to a different room, going to the place he felt the most comfortable; back to Privet Drive and in the cupboard under the stairs.
As the phantom left, Dumbledore arrived with the doctor.
"I am afraid it is only bad news. We did everything that we could, but he just didn't make it. I am sorry, but Harry Potter is dead."
Dumbledore knew this to be false, as his wards and alarms, some that he had taken with him, would have indicated such.
As Dumbledore inspected the body, he noticed that the scar had become dull. No longer the vibrant red that he remembered, it had become like an old scab; drab and lifeless.
A suspicion went through his mind, and he zeroed in with his calculating gaze.
"I need to be alone with him. Last words of a grandfather to the boy he has failed" Dumbledore than had a large single tear fall down his cheek.
"Yes, of course, I will be right outside making rounds."
Dumbledore didn't answer but instead slunk his shoulders.
Once the doctor had left, Dumbledore whisked out a flask. Grabbing a silver knife, he chops off several strands of hair, before getting out a large plunger sized needle and sticking it inside the boy. Sucking out a large vial of blood.
Putting them in vials and placing them in his loose suit's pockets, he takes out a bone saw and starts cutting off a finger.
Finger obtained, he places it in a clear glass tube before tucking it away.
Shuffling to the door, he opens it and says morosely "I am ready to say good bye. I will leave the body for his aunt and uncle to deal with."
"Would you like to talk to them, they are in the lobby..." the doctor pointed to a couple; Petunia crying in shocked disbelief, and Vernon with a far away gaze of sad shock.
"No, don't have the time. Right, see you later." Dumbledore turned around, his loose shirt billowing in the wind, and with long strides made his way to an exit.