It was when Harry saw what had to happen in the pensieve that he learned of his destiny. A slaughtering boy, raised to be killed, like he was no more than livestock. Not a boy. Not a man. A sacrifice.

If that was the way it had to be, that would be the way it would go down. He just wanted all this to be over. He didn't have to like it. It wasn't like his opinion mattered to anyone.

It was when Harry saw the bodies in the Great Hall, heard the sobs of those who had survived, that he understood. Someone had to do this job, be the one to die. So many people already had. Tonks, Lupin, Fred, Dobby, Sirius, his mom, his dad. Too many people had already died. He would be the last. He would end the suffering. And that wasn't such a bad purpose to have.

So he walked. It was a necessity and a final stand and a comfort all at once. He saw some of the people who had died for him. They further confirmed his belief that he was doing the right thing. So he walked on to confront his destiny.