Dumbledore paced his office. Pausing every so often to stare at the door, hoping that Harry would turn and walk through the door. He knew he had no excuse for hiding these things from Harry the last four years. And in his secrecy had cost Harry the closest thing to a father figure he ever had. And Dumbledore knew in his heart that it was his fault.
A tear trickled down his cheek, adding to the marks that were already there. He could have handled it if Harry had thrown things at him, tried to attack him, but the look of absolute destitution that was upon Harry's face broke his heart. When he had heard that Sirius had died, he felt like he was out living his children. James, Lily, Sirius, and many past students of his. All meeting the same fate because of a prophecy few people knew about. A prophecy that has destroyed many lives, and will destroy many more before it's completed.
Dumbledore looked down at the pensive. Slowly, spinning, hypnotic. The pensive was almost full. Memories of many years.
Dumbledore sat down at his desk. His head in his hands, and wept. A single thought crossed his mind.
I am becoming a tired old man~~~
A/N- okay chapter was short and sucky. I think I managed to get across what I thought Dumbledore would be feeling. One day I may re-write this. Don't hold your breath. Feel free to reviews, flame what ever