The Department of Mysteries was less confusing with an Unspeakable leading them. Harry couldn't help a shudder as he looked around the room of doors. The fight there years ago was stamped in his memory. They were nothing but children then, losing their way, panicked and frustrated and scared to death as one by one they fell.

Losing Sirius.

He had to shake the thoughts away as he followed their guide, a man who called himself Dom. He looked like he might have been a friend to Dung - scruffy, smelling like smoke and walking with a shuffle. Disreputable, the Dursleys would have called him.

As they walked, whether to distract Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Remus from their surroundings or just out of a desire to be social, he chattered. "Think you'll get another one today?" He nodded at the scar.

Harry hadn't thought about it. "I hope not. Maybe this one will go away."

"Let you fade into obscurity, eh?"

"Something like that."

"What's wrong, kid? Not fond of the spotlight?"

Harry smiled wryly. "It hasn't been a friend to me through the years."

"No? You're lucky. Obscurity isn't as nice as you might think."

"You know, Mr..."

"Dom," he threw back at Remus.

Remus smiled tightly, moving up to join their guide and Harry. "You look familiar to me."

Dom grinned. "Got that look, I expect. Maybe you passed me on the street sometime, mate."

"Well, wherever it's from...please don't think me rude, but I'm sure Harry is trying to concentrate on the deed ahead."

Harry glanced at him. "It's okay, Remus. The less I think about it the happier I am, actually. "

There was a protective look in Remus's eyes, but at Harry's words he shrugged and smiled again. "My apologies."

Harry turned back to Dom. "Trust me when I say, the spotlight is never a good thing."

"Can be," Dom answered, glancing over. His eyes were clear and sharp.

"You must not have read the things the newspapers like to print about me."

Dom laughed, a gruff sound, leading them through a door then bringing them all to a halt. He turned and led them back through the same door to reveal a new corridor. "Long time ago they laughed at you. Must have been annoying, that."

"He was eleven years old when that began," came a sharp answer from Hermione, walking behind them but obviously listening to every word.

"And I'll bet getting bad press wasn't his biggest worry, now was it?"

"Between You Know Who and everyone else trying to kill him? Guess not at that." Ron now, casual but still protective.

"That's the past, laddie. Fuck does it matter now?"

"What business is it of yours, telling Harry what he ought to be grateful for when you don't even know him?" was Ron's answer.

"What're you gonna do now? Once that Thing in there is dead?" Dom's eyes returned to Harry.

Harry frowned, the warmth of anger beginning to grow in his gut. "What business is it of yours?" He repeated Ron's words, tone sharp.

Dom shrugged. "None at all, obviously."

" i Dom /i , if there's something you're wanting to say just say it. We all have a lot on our minds today and frankly we could do without your input," Hermione said.

Dom didn't look away from Harry. "You could make a difference, you know."

"I think he's already made-"

Harry raised a hand to cut off Ron's retort. He stopped in his tracks and glared at the man. "You could mind your own bloody business."

Dom kept moving, onviously unconcerned. Harry cursed under his breath and followed.

"Look, mate, there's a lot of people who can't speak up and help themselves. There's a lot more evil in the world than just You Know Who."

"And it's on my shoulders to deal with all of it, is that it?"

"If you're the one they're listening to right now, then yeah."

Harry blew out a breath. He really, really didn't need this right now. "You have no idea."

"Know what I'd do in your shoes, though. Kill that monster in there and then set out stomping any other monsters I could find. Cause I've met a lot of people who can't do it themselves, and no matter how long the papers been writing about you and the Dark Lord's been tailing your steps, they got it a hundred times worse."

"You can just stop there." Ron moved past Remus and Harry, putting himself in front of Dom. "He's done a bloody sight more than most people would, and he's given up more than you know helping out this bloody world. He doesn't have anything to earn or anything to prove. Especially not to some ruddy strange git like you who just met him five seconds ago."

"Right you are," Dom replied, shrugging and moving them forward.

Ron huffed out a breath and looked at Harry. "He doesn't know. He's an idiot."

Harry could agree with that easily enough.

Fortunately the man didn't speak again until they finally stopped. It felt like they had walked miles, turning random corners and backtracking so often Harry was impressed. How much of Unspeakable training was simply learning the hallways?

Dom stopped at a spot that might have been random from what Harry could tell. He shot Harry a sharp grin and walked right into the wall in front of them. It swallowed him like mist, revealing that it was a facade.

Harry drew in a breath and followed. The illusion parted around him. The real wall was a few feet deeper, and two men stood flanking a plain, painted door. The door, Harry saw with something like amusement, had a crude drawing of a house elf on it. To throw off anyone who might have made it this far? He supposed it was more subtle than a Dark Mark, anyway.

Dom nodded at the men, then flashed a thin-lipped grin at the group. As if he'd been the most amiable host he could. "This is where I leave you, then. Good luck, mate. Hope you don't die much more than you're already planning to."

Remus, reaching his limit, opened his mouth to snap. But with two forward steps Dom moved through the wall glamour and vanished.

"Git," Ron muttered.

"I've seen him somewhere," Remus said, looking at the wall where he had vanished. He shook his head and nodded at Harry. "Take all the time you need. He's right inside?" That to the guards.

"That he is, sir." This Unspeakable at least seemed tense. Eyes went to Harry and then pulled away fast more than once. "Sleeping like a baby. You can go in whenever you want."

Harry looked over his small group of friends. "Give me a minute."

Remus touched him on the arm, then drew Ron and Hermione away a few steps.

Harry breathed in. This was it. He would be a killer in a minute. A cold-blooded murderer who pointed a wand at a helpless life and snuffed it out.

He had killed before. One person. One person whose wand had been aimed, whose mouth was forming the 'kedavra' part of the curse meant to kill Harry. He hadn't felt more than a little guilt over that.

This felt different.

But, worries and doubts aside, he had no choice but to do what he was there to do. Albus expected it. The entire wizarding world expected it. His friends saddled him with their expectations, and...well, popular opinion aside, it was his Prophecy. His point. His entire reason for being born.

He pulled out his wand. It would be easy, he told himself. Walk into the room. Voldemort would be lying there. Speak two words and then walk out again. The same person, Ron said. Still him, only with one more thing, and one less thing, plaguing his dreams at night.

He wouldn't even have to watch, really. Just find Voldemort, point, and close his eyes.

He turned and moved quickly. His body seemed to realize his head wouldn't be going along with this for long, and it answered accordingly. He didn't look at anyone, even when they all fell silent and turned to look at him. He walked past the guards, opened the door, and walked inside.

Voldemort lay there. Sleeping.

Anticlimactic.

Harry shut his eyes, aimed his wand, and thought about his parents.

"Avada kedavra," he spoke, voice steady.

His world was green. Then his world was black.