The portrait of Dumbledore beamed down at him with tears in his eyes, as he finished the last dregs of the potion.

"Harry my boy, you have done far more than myself or anyone could have expected or hoped for. I would wish you luck on this final leg of your journey, but I know that you have something far more potent on your side."

Harry grimly set the vial down, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Years of preparation had led up to that moment, and as the liquid fizzed down his throat, he wondered if it was all worth it.

"Cheers to Greater Good then."

And he turned tail and left before he could see the stricken face of the headmaster.

Below, the battle raged exactly as it had before he had disappeared into the headmaster's office. Lights from curses and mingled voices could be seen and heard from miles away. It all seemed so trivial now, and Harry looked disdainfully upon the scene with wisdom of one decades older than seventeen.

He walked. His confidence cleared a path as deftly as his wand, even as he only through minor hexes. Vaguely he heard Hermione's voice, and it was getting closer.

"—doing? Harry, please, stop. Tell me what's going on," she implored.

Harry ignored her and continued his march, pausing and speaking only when she put her hand on his shoulder.

"Let go 'Mione. It'll be alright, I promise," he soothed quietly, as he pried her fingers off his shoulder. "Go back to Ron, I'll be there before midnight."

But it wasn't till a spell that manifested itself as a barrier between them was thrown, that Hermione finally broke away. Casting one final look over her shoulder, she ran towards the headmaster's office.

Harry had not stopped. He felt compelled to complete this journey the same way his heart was compelled to play it's steady symphony, till the last chord.

Finally he reached the outermost edges of the Forbidden Forest. The sensation that directed him reminded him of the day he had taken Felix Felices, it's gentle but confident voice guiding him.

A part of him wished some creature would stop his journey short, but a sensible voice in his head suddenly reminded him that he had never actually experienced anything dangerous in this forest at all. Well, except for the monstrosity that had been there in his first year, the one that had scared Malfoy off. And that same monstrosity lied waiting for him today as well.

Malfoy, Harry thought. Wonder if he's dead yet.

Suddenly Harry realized he didn't want Malfoy to be dead yet. He didn't want anyone else to die tonight, and knowing he was the only one who would be able to put a stop to it, he sped up his pace.

The Death eaters in the clearing turned to the approaching boy. In other circumstances, Harry might have found their expressions amusing. Bellatrix Lestrange's mouth hung open, and it had occurred to none of the witches or wizards present to raise their wands.

"Harry…Potter. The boy who lived…come to die?" The high pitch voice inquired.

His eyes were brighter than usual, tiny and malevolent. His lips cracked, as his semi-forked tongue licked them over and over. His nose flared and contracted steadily, but seemed to increase their speed in his excitement.

These are the things Harry noticed as he was held to the great tree behind him, as the plant had been given life.

Some life. Awoken to do someone's bidding. Harry's lips cynically curled as he realized how much he had in common with the tree that bound him.

"Something amusing you, Harry?"

"Your death, Tom."

Tom Riddle's expression contorted, and Harry knew what was about to happen before it happened.

"Avada Kedavra!"