The realization of what would happen next settled gradually over Harry in the long minutes, like softly falling snow.
"I've got to go back, haven't I?"
"That is up to you."
"I've got a choice?"
"Oh yes." Dumbledore smiled at him. "We are in King's Cross, you say? I think that if you decided not to go back, you would be able to…let's say…board a train."
"And where would it take me?"-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
Dumbledore sat in silence for a few moments just looking at Harry. "Perhaps," he began almost hesitantly, "it would be best to board and find out."
Harry considered this for a moment. "Would I die?" he said, not entirely opposed to the idea.
"No," Dumbledore replied, "I think it would be more difficult than that. A solution to the many mistakes we, mostly I, have made concerning this whole charade, if you will."
Harry sat quietly for a bit longer, thinking about everything that he had done wrong. Everything that could be changed for the better. He looked up after a while and saw that a train had pulled up to the platform in front of him. Perhaps, he thought, the decision was made for me a long time ago.
Without another word, Harry stood up, shook Dumbledore's hand, and walked silently to the train. As he boarded, he looked back at Dumbledore, and saw a proud, yet terribly sad smile stretch across his mentor's face. Raising his hand in farewell, Harry stepped into the car, and felt the train begin to move. The bright mist was descending again, obscuring Harry's vision, and with a final lurch, he was on his way.