I got this story idea from sanitydestroyer but I toyed around with the idea, trying to make it fit into canon.

Disclaimer: Basically the usual crap about this not being my intellectual property but J.K. Rowlings.


"DAMMIT! I DON'T WANT TO LIVE ANYMORE!" cried Harry. "I JUST WANT IT ALL TO END!"

Dumbledore sat back in his chair, watching him yell. It was better for him to let his rage out now, then later where it could seriously hurt someone...or so he thought.

"Harry, my boy, it would be best if you sat down." said Dumbledore in a calm tone.

"NO!" he said, storming over to the door. Twisting the knob, he found out, to his disappointment, that the door was locked. He gave Dumbledore a glare, who only sent back a smile to him.

Dumbledore then waved his hand over to the chair across from him, which was situated right next to his shelf of contraptions.

Harry gave Dumbledore another glare, before walking over to his shelf of contraptions. Picking one up, he threw it up and down before turning his head back to Dumbledore.

"Let me out...now." Harry demanded. When Dumbledore ignored this, Harry threw the silvery contraption against the wall, showering silver pieces all over the office. At this, Dumbledore gave a sharp wince, as the device had cost 2205000 Galleons. Seeing the wince, Harry let out a small smirk. Picking up another trinket, he once again ordered Dumbledore to open the door which he had refused. It soon became another pile of rubble on the floor.

Inside Dumbledore's mind, he was raging.

'How dare that dweeb break my stuff! It probably cost more than his whole bank account put together to buy these stuff...AHHH...there goes another one.'

Shaking away that thought, Dumbledore placed a calm, almost detached face on, trying to shake Harry. When Harry had destroyed another two trinkets and seemed to be shaking in place, he tried once again with his grand-fatherly mask.

"Would you like to sit down now?" he asked.

With an angry glare at him, Harry plopped down onto the seat.

"Do you remember when you were eleven, after you fought Quirell, that you asked me why Voldemort was after you?"

At Harry's confused nod, Dumbledore continued.

"Well, when you were one...there was a prophecy about you." Dumbledore started. Harry continued to look on with confusion at the headmaster. Giving a small sigh, Dumbledore continued on.

"I was looking for a divination teacher when I happened to stumble across one that was situated in Hog's Head. When I went there, I was just about ready to give up the search when she started to spasm. Think of my incredulity when she started to spew a real prophecy to me!" Dumbledore then got up from his chair from behind the desk and walked over to his cabinet. Opening the lock, he pushed aside the empty bottles of firewhiskey and picked up his pensieve.

"Do not think bad of me, dear boy, after you had heard this. I only kept it from you so that you can have a happy childhood." stated Dumbledore.

Harry looked apprehensively at the swirling, silvery substance inside of the pensieve.

Dumbledore raised his wand and placed it against his temple, face set in concentration. After a few long, agonizing minutes, Dumbledore began to lead the tip of the wand away from his temple, a silvery strand connected to both wand and temple. After the strand was successfully taken out, he slowly lowered it into the pensieve and twirled it around in a circle, letting the strand soak into the liquid inside the pensieve. Then, with a prod of his wand, a figure shifted onto the surface of the substance. At first, it looked, like a unsuccessful human transformation, but on second glance, it was Trelawney! But instead of her usual fake, mystic voice, it was ragged and croaky, as though she hadn't used her voice for several months as well as dehydrated.

"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES...BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFEATED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES...AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIS AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT...AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES...THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES..."

Harry continued to stare on into space in shock. Dumbledore looked over to him and began to worry about his sanity. Would he be able to survive this war and vanquish the Dark Lord like the prophecy said? Or will the Wizarding World fall to the evil clutches of Voldemort? When Harry continued to stare off into space, Dumbledore gave him a small shake and immediately, Harry jumped as though he had been electrocuted. Harry looked around the room in confusion, until he remembered what he had just learned, a somber expression came onto his face.

Dumbledore looked at the young man appraisingly and asked, "Would you like to leave now?"

Harry gave a stiff nod, and walked out of the room, almost robotically.

Right after the office door clicked shut, an angry expression came onto Dumbledore's face. How dare that mutt destroy his belongings? He waved his wand over each destroyed item and checked to make sure that they were all right. After doing so, he walked out of his study and made his way across the castle. Walking right up to the Fat Lady, he waited for the painting to slide open, and then walked into the Common Room. Shutting and locking the portrait, he made his way up to the Fifth Year dormitory. Looking around the room, he made his way to Harry's bed and trunk. Making sure there wasn't anyone in the room, he waved his wand at Harry's trunk and it sprung open like a spring, throwing everything inside of it onto the bed. He walked over to the bed and picked up all the things that came out of the trunk and dumped them onto the floor. Picking up the prized Firebolt, he raised it with two hands and snapped it on his knee. Ahh...music to his ears. Making sure that his robes were safely tucked into his boots, he jumped up like a ten year old and began to stomp on Harry's belonging. A few minutes later, a tired Dumbledore arranged them back into a neat pile and took out his wand yet again. Waving and slashing his wand, different things were shattered and broken, burned and drenched. Casting a 'Bombarda', he didn't expect to hear a crunch of glass. Wide-eyed, he searched through a pile before coming to a mirror. A familiar mirror. In a gasp, he remembered where he had seen this mirror. When Sirius and James had detention.

'Oh shit, shit, shit, SHIT!'

Repairing the mirror, he tried to contact Sirius with it.

"Sirius."

When the mirror didn't respond, he tried once again.

"Let me talk to Sirius."

'When you broke the mirror, you must've broken the enchantments on the mirror, therefore deeming it ineffective. Good job. If Harry finds out about this, you're fucked.' said a small voice at the back of his head.

Scared at the repercussions that could result from this, he hurriedly repaired everything and ran down the stairs. Making a note to himself to order Harry a new Firebolt, he slunk back to his office, to contemplate another fucked up moment in his furry life.


So...Thanks for reading. As you can see, I kinda strayed from canon a bit, but I also tried to relate it to canon...key word being TRIED. XD