The Forest Again

           Finally,thetruth.Lyingwithhisfacepressedintothedustycarpetoftheofficewherehehadoncethoughthewaslearningthesecretsofvictory,Harryunderstoodatlastthathewasnotsupposedtosurvive.HisjobwastowalkcalmlyintoDeath’swelcomingarms.Alongtheway,hewastodisposeofVoldemort’sremaininglinkstolife,sothatwhenatlastheflunghimselfacrossVoldemort’spath,anddidnotraiseawandtodefendhimself,theendwouldbeclean,andthejobthatoughttohavebeendoneinGodric’sHollowwouldbefinished.Neitherwouldlive,neithercouldsurvive.

           Hefelthisheartpoundingfiercelyinhischest.Howstrangethatinhisdreadofdeath,itpumpedalltheharder,valiantlykeepinghimalive.Butitwouldhavetostop,andsoon.Itsbeatswerenumbered.Howmanywouldtherebetimefor,asheroseandwalkedthroughthecastleforthelasttime,outintothegroundsandintotheforest?

           Terrorwashedoverhimashelayonthefloor,withthatfuneraldrumpoundinginsidehim.Wouldithurttodie?Allthosetimeshehadthoughtthatitwasabouttohappenandescaped,hehadneverreallythoughtofthethingitself:Hiswilltolivehadalwaysbeensomuchstrongerthanhisfearofdeath.Yetitdidnotoccurtohimnowtotrytoescape,tooutrunVoldemort.Itwasover,heknewit,andallthatwasleftwasthethingitself:dying.

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