Of All The Ways It Could Have Ended.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything mentioned in this story.


'For neither can live while the other survives'

These words echoed in his head. Over, and over, and over again. There was no going back. No changing his mind. No saying that he didn't want to do it. This was it…this was death.

He walked silently across the Hogwarts grounds, the distant echoes of his peers, professors, and friends holding off the enemy forces behind him. He looked back at the castle, the only place he'd ever called home, for the last time. The windows were illuminated by the different spells, jinxes, and curses being cast; green, red and purple flashes lighting the sky like haunted fireworks. He hadn't seen Hermione or Ron in well over a couple of hours. He didn't dare imagine what had become of them. He knew they would be alright without him. They had each other.

How had it come to this? When he stepped on the Hogwarts Express several years ago, he had no idea that it was to end like this. Maybe if he had known, he would have never chosen this life to begin with. If he had known that so many people were to die on his account, maybe he wouldn't have gone with Hagrid that day at the hut on the rock. Maybe if had led a normal life without the wands and the spells, things wouldn't have ended like this. He thought about everyone that had died because of him. There were so many sacrifices…so many lives cut too short.

His parents.

Sirius.

Dumbledore.

Mad-Eye.

Dobby.

He was at the edge of the forest now. He could hear the low whispering of voices within the trees; their voices concealed by a combination of the dark of night and the dense brush. He stopped. He knew who was waiting for him. At least when it was all over and done with, the ones he loved most would be safe. A vague image of a pretty red-headed entered his head but was fogged by the insecurities of what was waiting mere yards from him. When everything was over, a generation could grow up without the fear that has gripped the entire wizarding nation for the past decade. Young wizards and witches would be safe…and wasn't that worth it?

His mind went back to something that he had read in Rita Skeeter's book about Dumbledore as he continued to wait at the edge of the forest. In his letter to Grindelwald, he has used a certain phrase to explain his actions. For some odd reason, the second he recalled Dumbledore's words, he was put at ease. His restless mind, which was whirling with thoughts and emotions, went still. He felt…calm. All fears, reservations, and doubts seemed to join the gentle breeze that just washed over him. Of all the ways he could have died, at least this one counted for something. Of all the ways it could have ended, at least this way had meaning.

He was dying.

'For the greater good'


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