A/N: Since everyone has to write a "Death of Harry" fanfic eventually, I figured I'd get mine over with. This, of course, takes place during/after the final battle with Lord Voldemort. For those who have been living under a rock at the bottom of a lake inside an underground chasm for the past forever, the song is "Goodbye" from "The Sound of Music". It's usually viewed as a cheerful song, but I felt the need to show that any kind of goodbye can be sad. In the movie, it's the song of children being sent off to bed. Here, it's the song of one child being sent off for good.

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Some people say that everyone has a sort of internal clock. Something that counts down our years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes...

Even our seconds.

Voldemort's spell hits me in the middle of my chest, and I fall backwards even as my killing curse sends him slumping to the ground.

They say that at some point, the clock runs down. That's when we pass on. We can't function anymore because the clock just... stops ticking.

There's a sad sort of clanging from the clock in the hall,

And the bells in the steeple, too.

And up in the nursery, an absurd little bird

Is popping out to say "cuckoo".

I can feel his spell in my blood. It's poison—no antidote, of course. He wouldn't let me off that easily. He'll take me down with him.

They say that we know when our clock has run out. It's clear as day. Whether our bells toll as we lie in bed, old and frail, our lives behind us--or we die young and unprepared, at the hands of another.

It's odd that this should be the last thing I think about as my own clock ticks slowly to a standstill.

Regretfully they tell us,

But firmly they compel us,

To say goodbye...

...to you...

"Hermione..."

She looks down at me with those knowing brown eyes. "Yes, Harry?" Her voice is steady and smooth, calm, lilting. But I can hear the tremble behind it. Knowing her all these years has not been in vain, and I see the faint quiver in her upper lip.

"You're a brilliant girl... Hermione. No one can ever take that away from you... no one. You've been the best right hand to me, and a better friend. Without you I would've snuffed it a long time ago..."

"Harry," she says quickly, "Don't talk like you're going to--"

"Die?" I ask, laughing softly. "Hermione, you may be the brightest witch in the world... but you can't stop a poison spell. Not when the most powerful dark wizard since Salazar himself was its caster."

She lowers her head and I know she is running through a list of possible cures. None of them will work, but I won't deny her the chance to hope.

So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, good night.

I hate to go and leave this pretty sight.

So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, adieu.

Adieu, adieu, to you and you and you...

"Ron."

He is already staring at me. His mouth is slightly ajar, as though he can't really believe that I'm about to be gone. I am, though. That clock is ticking closer and closer to midnight with each breath I take.

"Yeah, mate?" His voice shakes openly.

"Before I came to Hogwarts..." I heave a deep breath, willing myself to continue speaking. "Before I came to Hogwarts, I didn't have any friends... You were the first person who ever reached out to me, and I'm more grateful for that than you can imagine. You'll always be my friend, Ron... even when I'm gone. I know you well enough to know that."

It's almost too soft for me to hear when he says, "But... you're too young to go. You're only seventeen..."

I smile. "We're never too young, Ron--We just have to do what we can... with the time that we have. We shouldn't... regret."

So long, farewell, au revoir, auf Wiedersehen.

I'd like to stay and taste my first champagne.

So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, goodbye.

I leave and heave a sigh and say goodbye...

Then my mind wanders to Sirius and Remus, both gone now, and I wonder if they'll be happy to see me. I imagine Sirius giving me that rogueish grin and throwing his arms wide to embrace me. "You did your best, Harry," he would say. "That's all anyone could ask."

I can almost picture Remus' knowing smile. "Welcome home, Harry. Welcome home."

And then I see two faces that make my heart leap a little in my chest. Mother, her red hair floating in a gentle breeze, and Father, his eyes twinkling brightly. "We're so proud of you, Harry," they tell me, "So very, very proud."

I smile, and rush to greet them.

I'm glad to go, I cannot tell a lie.

I flit, I float, I fleetly flee, I fly.

For a moment I hesitate. I can hear Ron and Hermione crying, I can see them cradled in each other's arms. I should stay, they need me, they...

They have each other now. They will feel the hurt and loss that comes when someone you care about dies, but each will comfort the other. They will be all right.

The sun has gone to bed, and so must I.

So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, goodbye.

Goodbye, goodbye...

I turn again to face my parents, my godfather, my mentor... They are all smiling, all welcoming me with open arms. On the physical plane, I can feel my body's mouth open one last time.

"Goodbye..."

Goodbye...

- -

A/N: All right, your daily dose of angst has been served. Review, please—writing is my bread and butter. I need your input to improve. You'd hate to see me go hungry just because you didn't want to write a few silly words, wouldn't you?