In the battle of Hogwarts Voldemort demanded Harry Potter to come to the Forbidden Forest to turn himself in. The story begins when Harry decides to go, even tough he promised his friends he wouldn't.

Before the storm

He had to go, there was no other way. Ron and Hermoine knew what they had to do. They had to kill the snake. If they couldn't do it, maybe Neville would be able to. Once Nagini was dead, it was only Voldemort himself. When Harry was dead, there would be no horcruxes to protect Voldemort.

The others would do it. They would be successful, they had to be. Voldemort would be defeated. He caused so much suffering, so many people died fighting him and his followers. All of the fallen did their part so that the wizarding world had a chance of overthrowing Voldemort. That they where able to even build up a resistance was thanks to them and their sacrifices.

Now Harry had to play his part to lay the foundations for a victory against the dark side. What happened after his death, was out of his controll. The only thing that was left for him was hope. Hope that they would triumph.

Maybe Professor McGonagall would be able to fight the Dark Lord. Voldemort would be weakened und Minerva McGonagall probably was the most powerful witch Harry ever met.

He had to believe in all of them, there was nothing else he could do. Would they be disappointed with him? Or even worse: angry? After all he was going to sacrifice himself, to face Voldemort with no intention coming out of the confrontation alive, even tough he promised them, he wouldn't do it.

How they would react when they found out he was dead? Which emotions would be mirrored in their faces? Well, he'd never find out.

He had to go now, before the others would get wary and come to check on him. It had been noticably long, since he was with them. He was sitting on a stair in third floor, pondering about his possibilities. Nobody else was there, it was so wonderfully quiet. It was the first time in what felt like an eternity that he was able to sort his thoughts.

Slowly Harry stood up. Everything hurt, he was exhausted and desperate. The previous battle left it's mark on him. He had seen his friends die. He saw people, that were as close as familiy like nobody else, lying on the floor in front of him: pale, covered in blood and despair evident in their eyes.

He climbed down the stairs, putting one foot in front of the other. Harry swayed und the pictures of the people he loved, that burned their way into his head, wouldn't go away..

As he arrived in front of the Great Hall, he feared that someone could see him, trying to convince him to stay, to not hand himself over to Voldemort. To a certain extent he probably even wished for exactly that to happen, that someone would stop him, to lift this burden off his shoulders. But his concerns were unfounded, nobody looked his way. The people in the hall were busy tending to the wounded and mourning their dead. As he watched them his eyes found the Weasleys, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to be more precisely. They were kneeling next to Fred, Molly Weasley caressed the red hair of her recently deceased son. She cried and even tough Mr. Weasley wanted to comfort her, he cried too. Losing a child was the worst thing any parent could go through.

That scenery hurt Harry more, than words could ever express. He turned away and didn't look back as he went down the path leading to the Forbidden Forest.

As soon as he stepped out of the walls of Hogwarts, a cool breeze sweeped across his face. The fresh air of spring lay itself on him as if to comfort him. Every now and then he saw traces of the previous battle. Wandering down the path Harry noticed a big puddle of blood in the grass. He prayed that the one who lost his blood there could be saved (as long as it wasn't a death eater). But among further inspection, he doubted it.

Eventually he passed by Hagrid's hut. It was completely burnt down and it seemed that someone blasted the masonry away. As he tought about it he noticed that he hadn't seen Hagrid for a while now. He hoped that nothing bad happened to him. Hagrid had always been there for them and they were always ready to help him out if he managed it yet again to get himself into trouble.

Completely lost in his thought he didn't notice how close he had already gotten to the Forest. If he took one more step, there would be no turning back. Steeling his nerves he entered the dark, moldy smelling Forbidden Forest.

To the well organized mind,

death is but the next great adventure.

- Dumbledore.