Hello readers, I do hope you have been enjoying this story, but I have some news.

I know this is a bit sudden, but it's very hard to write this story. It has a good idea, but to carry the plot would be very difficult.

If Harry was more comedic, then it could be better because he could be like a new peeves, but since he's been heavily abused, I don't believe it would be write of me to just make him a prankster all of a sudden.

I will try to continue writing this story, but I'm running thin on ideas.

Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, as it explains what happened and we get to see some more of the effects of Harry's death.

Without further ado, lets get on with it.

*I do not own Harry Potter or any of its Characters*

Chapter 3: The Truth

Albus Dumbledore appeared at Privet Drive with a crack of apparation, not caring about if someone heard the gunshot like sound. The aged wizard made his way down the street to the 4th home with speed and haste.

He hoped, no, it couldn't be true. He trusted Petunia with her nephew because he believed she had a good heart. Yes she disliked magic, but that didn't mean she would hurt him, let alone kill him.

Family was important in Albus's heart. With a good family and love, nothing could beat you. That's why he preferred to have the Dursleys raise Harry over anyone else.

Making his way to the home, he knocked on the front door and waited impatiently. His leg was shaking and his hands were tightening, trying to relieve some of the tension he had built up inside.

The door opened and he was met with a giant of a man staring at him with wide eyes.

Ahh, so this was Vernon Dursley.

"Good evening Mr Dur-" The door was slammed on his face, the lock sounding a second after.

Albus was not in the mood for this. He was already on edge, and he needed to confirm Harry was safe and not the ghost that was in Hogwarts.

Using his wand, he cast an alohomora on the door, allowing him inside the home.

Walking in, he found that the home was... clean.

It was extremely clean. He couldn't spot dust anywhere. The couch in the living room was pristine, though covered in plastic, and the windows and floors shined.

It was a beautiful home. Petunia must work so hard to make sure her family lives in comfort.

"You damn freak! What are you doing in my home!" He turned and smiled at the accuser. "Hello Mrs Dursley, how are you today?"

"I want you out of my house NOW!"

He caught that right beside her was her husband holding a muggle gun of some sort. Flicking his wand under his robe's loose sleeve, he wordlessly cast a jinx on the weapon. It wouldn't do to die right now.

"I just came to check up on young Harry if that's not a problem." He saw the fear in their eyes spike up.

"He.. He's at a friend's house, now leave!" The fat man came out and pointed the gun right at his head. He could see it in Mr Dursley's eyes. Worry and hesitation.

He knew he shouldn't, but he was stripped for time already. Besides, it wasn't illegal to use it on muggles.

"Legilimens" He whispered and looked right into the eyes on the man.

-Vernon's Memory-

Vernon finished his meal and sighed to himself with satisfaction. While he hated the little freak, the boy made a delicious roast.

Perhaps he would make the boy cook it for him again tomorrow.

With a grunt, he got up from his seat and turned to the place he last left the boy.

"Boy! Clean up the kitchen!"

There was a pause. No "Yes Uncle Vernon" Like he was used to hearing after issuing his command.

"Freak!" He yelled once more, finding himself becoming irritated once more.

Wobbling over to the cupboard's entrance, he found the boy was still on the floor, sprawled out and unconscious. He even dirtied the clean hardwood floors with his putrid blood.

Slamming his foot into the boy's side, he yelled once more, only for the boy to remain un-moving.

He picked up the boy and slammed him up against the cupboard door, only for the child's body to sag and be unresponsive.

Vernon started to get a little worried. The boy wasn't moving and wasn't doing anything. Now that he took more attention to the boy, he could see that his skin was paler, lips were blue, and he was cold.

"Petunia!" He yelled out.

"What is it dear?" He heard from the kitchen.

"Come here! Quick!" His wife walked into the hallway next to the staircase and saw her husband holding the freak.

"What's going on? Did the freak do something again?"

"He's not moving."

Petunia sighed and walked up to the boy's body. She sneered as she checked him over, also noticing several things that her husband did. He eyes widened.

"He's not breathing." She whispered out. With no care, she jabbed her fingers into his neck and waited.

The tension grew and Vernon was worried. He knows he was angry and wanted to vent, but he didn't think he actually killed the boy this time.

The brat was important to those freaks, and they said how the boy protected them.

"There's no pulse." Petunia said fearfully.

"Mum! I want cake! Make the freak make one!" Dudley yelled from the kitchen, still eating his third plate.

"One moment Diddly Dums." She yelled back, not able to hold her fear back from her voice.

She turned to Vernon with fear and anger. "You just had to kill him didn't you?" Vernon scowled at her.

"It's not my fault, it's the freak's. I lost my job today and he's to blame. Probably used his freakishness to do it."

"Well, that's not the most important thing to worry about. We need to do something about this." Vernon grunted and looked at the boy's body once more. An idea popped into his head and he felt it was the best option.

"I know what to do." He said with a sinister grin.

-Vernon's Memory End-

Dumbledore watched in agony as Vernon Dursley put Harry's destroyed and crippled body into his car. He drove off to the nearest river, tied the boy up in a garbage bag and threw him in without any care as the body bobbed down the current.

He saw enough. Too much in fact.

Pulling out of the man's mind, he looked at him in horror. "How could you...your own flesh and blood." Dumbledore looked like he aged 50 years right in that spot. His skin was pale, his appearance haggard and his eyes defeated.

"We didn't want him. You made us put up with him and that's what happened. It's not our fault that you gave us the freak in the first place!" Dumbledore found confetti shot in his face and a confused Vernon looking at him.

For a moment, Dumbledore wished he hadn't jinxed the gun.

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

Harry sat with McGonagall in the headmaster's office, enjoying the lesson that the teacher was giving him. He listened as the teacher explained the castle and how the school taught people how to use their magic. It was like a fairy tale and Harry was enraptured in it.

"Hogwarts has four houses, all of which have a certain quality about them and the students that are in them. The Hufflepuff house represents hard work and loyalty, Ravenclaws are studious and intelligent, the Slytherins are clever and sneaky, and Gryffindors like myself are brave and courageous. The houses all have their own rooms where only those students are allowed to enter, and most of the time the houses stay separate, like during meals or events." Harry shakily raised his hand. Minerva smiled at the ghost child.

"Yes Harry?"

"W-Why do they stay separate?"

"Well, most of the time, students like to stay with their friends who are in the same house. Making friends in other houses is a bit difficult because of the lack of time that they spend together."

Harry looked like he wanted to say something, but was holding it back. She could see he was biting his blue lips. "Harry, if you wish to say something, I will not stop you or hurt you in any way." Harry looked down at the floor, but spoke what he believed.

"Why do you separate the s-students because they're the same? Wouldn't you want them to make friends who are different?" Minerva was quite shocked by the answer, but Harry wasn't finished.

'M-My teacher taught us that if you make friends that are different, then you can u-understand them better and it helps when you need to do s-something that needs different skills. I-If I had a friend who was good in English and one who was g-good in math, then we c-could study to-together and all do well.

Like if you had Raveclaw with the Slytheries. You could have a smart friend and a sneaky one so you can work together."

Minerva was amazed. Harry Potter was so young, yet so much more open minded than almost everyone else in the wizarding world.

Having friends in different houses was very odd now, and those that were are constantly harassed by both sides. She hadn't seen a Slytherin and a Gryffindor be friends in years.

Lily and Severus.

Not only that, but Harry was so open-minded about the houses, thinking that everyone could be friends and that they were equal. While she tried not to show it much, she was a bit bias towards her lions. She was raised as one and as such had the mentality that they were better, even with her years of trying to squash that idea.

But this child. This ghost whose life was taken too soon. He was brilliant. Not only in his mind, but in his heart.

Separating students let them create clicks within their house. After they made them, they didn't open up much after that, which ruined many student's chances to have very good friendships with people in other houses.

Harry so innocent. His heart was so pure.

He shouldn't have died.

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

Severus Snape didn't know how to feel about all of this.

While Dumbledore might be checking in and making sure the boy was alive, Snape believed that it was truly Potter.

After all, for a ghost to walk into Hogwarts and claim to be Harry Potter was definitely strange. As he could see it, the child was not lying, as it was afraid to say its own name in fear of abuse.

Then there was the fact that it was a ghost to begin with. For a child to be a ghost meant that the child died to early and it's death was unfair and unwarranted. And the child had to be magical.

The boy was raised by his uncle, and most likely his aunt if logic proved right.

He knew exactly who Harry Potter's aunt was. That spiteful hag Petunia Dursley.

Lily's sister hated her and her 'freakishness' with a passion. She called Lily a freak, a monster. It hurt his childhood friends heart, and she often came to him in tears after the things her sister yelled at her.

And that boy, he said his name was freak. Petunia's favorite word.

It was easy for him to connect all the dots, he was a Slytherin after all.

Petunia married a man who hated magic just as much as if not more than her, and the two being in charge of a magical child spelled chaos, ergo, the death of Harry Potter. Death through extreme abuse from what it looks like.

Harry Potter was dead, never to live again.

But how did he feel about all of this. The son of his arch enemy and his love, staring at him with fear and transparent eyes.

James Potter, the most terrible wizard Snape had ever known, other than Voldemort. Immature, rude, brash, and a bully to heart. He made Snape's life hell. He ruined the friendship with the only positive person in his life.

He supposed that the man maybe deserved this after all the abuse he put other children through.

But Harry was Lily's too. Lily's son...dead.

His promise. The promise to protect her child, gone, failed.

He hated this feeling. The feeling of turmoil and confusion.

He stood up from his chair and walked out of the great hall, ignoring the protests from his fellow house of heads who were still swamped with questions from curious students.

He needed time. Time to think of the child of his love, now blue and unliving.

(End Chapter)

Cool! We get to see a bit of Snape's mentality and how he reacted to Harry's death.

Albus got to witness what Harry went through. Serves him right, but he's not gonna get off scott free for leaving a child with abusers.

I know it wasn't a very big chapter, but what do you want. Killing the MC is a hard story to write.

Anyway, if you like it, the follow.

Until maybe next time, see ya!