Harry raced down the spiral steps leading from Dumbledore's office, heart pounding in his ears like a war drum. He leapt the last steps, threw the Invisibility Cloak over himself, and continued running, down the hall, round the corners, and finally, to the Great Hall.
He knew what he had to do, but that didn't make it any easier. Finally, he understood. He knew why he could see into Voldemort's mind. He knew why he could think like Voldemort thought. He knew why he could predict the locations of the Horcruxes.
It had nothing to do with his magical abilities, nothing to do with "dumb luck." It made perfect sense; the pieces of the puzzle had finally fallen into place. He always knew they would, and he always feared the picture they would create.
Now he knew. Now he knew what would have to be done, and thinking about it made it harder. He wanted to see Hermione and Ron, and tell them exactly what he was doing, and moreover, why he had to do it, but he thought if he saw them he would never be able to let go. He would never be able to do what he knew he had to do.
He rushed down the corridors, turned a sharp bend, and ran headlong into the two people he wanted so desperately to avoid, but also so desperately to see. Ron and Hermione were knocked backwards, rubbing their heads, eyes staring at Harry, though they couldn't see him.
"Harry!" Ron shouted, looking around. "Was that you?"
Harry tried to turn and run; he couldn't look at them, he couldn't, not without rethinking his decision, but Hermione must have known he was there, because she reached forward, grabbed the Invisibility Cloak, and yanked it off him.
"No!" Harry cried, but it was too late. Hermione and Ron had seen him, and even if they hadn't, they had heard him shout.
"What are you doing, Harry!?" Ron shouted. "We need to get ready, the hour's almost up! Voldemort's going to attack soon, we have to hide you!"
"No, you don't," Harry cut in. "I'm...I'm going to meet Voldemort in the forest."
"WHAT!?" Hermione and Ron shrieked in perfect unison; Harry felt the need to cover his ears, to run, to face his destiny before Ron and Hermione dissuaded him.
"You can't, Harry!" cried Hermione, dropping the Invisibility Cloak and grabbing Harry's arm as if to restrain him. "He'll kill you, you know he will!"
"Harry, we'll fight!" said Ron. "We'll fight him until the end, you don't have to give yourself up to him! We can kill Voldemort without you doing it!"
Harry wished it were so simple, but alas, it wasn't. "Ron, no you can't," he said, "you can't kill Voldemort as long as I'm here."
"But we can try!" said Hermione.
"No you can't!" Harry objected, and this time, he jerked away. He had to leave, he had to get out of here, the hour was almost up, like Ron said. It was now or never. If he left now, he still had time to get to the Forbidden Forest, still had time to meet his destiny instead of waiting for it to reach him, as he knew it would eventually.
Hermione looked hurt; Ron looked confused.
"There's a reason I can see into Voldemort's mind!" Harry said, almost pleadingly. "There's a reason I can predict his moves! There's a reason I can feel his anger, his obsessions, there's a reason!"
Hermione and Ron no longer looked perplexed; now, they looked horrified.
"Horcruxes!" Harry shouted. "This entire time, we've been hunting and destroying Horcruxes, because Voldemort can never be killed until they're destroyed, right? RIGHT!?"
Hermione nodded shakily, as did Ron beside her, otherwise remaining unmoved.
"Horcruxes," Harry went on, calming drastically, "can only be created through murder, and Voldemort meant to split his soul in seven, right? The ring, the locket, the cup, the diary, the diadem, Nagini, and the part left in himself!"
"Harry, what are you getting to, mate?" Ron asked, although by the tone of his voice he already knew the horrible, horrible truth.
"On the night my parents died," said Harry, voice rising once again, "in Godric's Hollow, Voldemort split his soul again, and the fragment of his soul latched onto the only living thing in the house! Which...which…"
He stopped, took a deep breath, and exploded.
"It's ME! I'm a Horcrux! Voldemort can't die until I die! Don't you see what I have to do? I have to meet Voldemort in the forest! I have to let him kill me, or this will never end!"
"NO!" Hermione shrieked, and before Harry could actually react, she had thrown her arms around his shoulders and squeezed him so tightly she was in danger of breaking a bone. "NO, HARRY!"
But there was nothing left to be done. There was no way out. If there was, Harry would have already found it. There wasn't a way to remove the Horcrux; only by death could it truly be destroyed.
And Hermione was sobbing. She was screaming, more like, face buried against Harry's shoulder, any screams and wails muffled. She squeezed him tighter as if trying to restrain him, as if he would try and break away from her.
"Hermione, please," Harry whispered, though he hugged her back; Hermione had always been like a sister to him, and seeing her like this only hurt him more. "Please, Hermione...don't make it any harder...please…"
Would this be the last time he ever hugged her? Would this be the last words he spoke to her, the last things he said? Would this be Hermione's last memory of him, clinging to him, begging him to change his mind though they both knew there was no other way?
Harry tried to pull back, only to have Ron join the embrace, arms around both Hermione and Harry at once. Ron was taller than them both, and he hugged them with such ferocity it was almost ridiculous.
Harry wished they would stop. Didn't they know how much harder they were making this for him? As soon as they broke the embrace he would be walking towards the Forbidden Forest, towards Voldemort, towards his death…
But in these few precious moments with his best friends, he tried to forget death was coming for him (or, moreover, he was coming to death). He shut his eyes and tried to remember…
He remembered when he was eleven, meeting Ron and Hermione on the Hogwarts Express for the first time. He remembered when he was twelve, when Hermione was petrified by the basilisk and Harry and Ron went into the Chamber of Secrets to save Ginny. He remembered when he was thirteen, when he and Hermione went back in time to rescue Buckbeak the hippogriff and Sirius Black. He remembered when he was fourteen and competed in the Triwizard Tournament; Hermione and Ron were there fighting by his side. He remembered being fifteen, how Ron and Hermione stuck with him when others wouldn't. When he was sixteen, with Dumbledore's death, and now, he was seventeen, about to walk to his death.
But oddly enough, those memories - the happiest of them all especially - gave him courage. He remembered just what he was fighting for. If he didn't do this, Voldemort would kill Ron and Hermione. If Harry didn't welcome death with open arms, who knew how many innocent wizards and witches and Muggles would die?
It had to be him. He had to die so that they would live.
And in honesty, he was pretty okay with that.
He finally stepped back, prying Hermione's arms off him, and soon after, Ron's. He stared at them both with his heart aching; Hermione's eyes were full of tears, and her cheeks were streaked with tear tracks. Harry looked at Ron; the redhead had no different appearance than Hermione.
"We'll go with you," said Ron.
"No, you can't," said Harry. "You have to stay here...you have to kill Nagini. She's a Horcrux. Kill the snake, and then...then you can kill Voldemort."
Hermione choked on another sob. "P-please, Harry," she whispered. "Let us go with you, please…"
"I can't," said Harry. "Voldemort will kill you, he doesn't care who he kills, whether it benefits him or not. You two aren't going to die for me. No one is ever going to die for me again."
He looked to Ron. "Take care of Ginny, alright?" he finally said, a lump in his throat making his voice tight. He swallowed against his fear, but it didn't help. "And...don't mourn me too much, alright?"
Ron wiped his eyes and shook his head. "I'll make sure no one forgets why you did it, Harry," he said determinedly. "No one will ever be able to call you a coward, or a fool, or...or whatever." Ron seemed to be at a loss of words. "I'll make sure everyone knows what you did," he said.
"Thanks, Ron. I love you...both of you. Thanks...thanks for always being there for me," said Harry. "So, I guess...I guess this is so long."
Hermione choked on another sob. "S-s-so long..." she cried brokenly as if she had never heard of such a thing.
"Take care of each other," said Harry. "And...well...goodbye."
"Harry…" Hermione whispered, but Harry didn't wait around to hear what else she had to say. He shook Ron's hand firmly (the last time he would ever shake his best mate's hand, he thought), picked up the Invisibility Cloak, and swung it around him.
Invisible once again, he passed Ron and Hermione, strode through the Great Hall, and left out the doors to meet his fate.