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Terror
washed
over
him
as
he
lay
on
the
floor
,
with
that
funeral
drum
pounding
inside
him
.
Would
it
hurt
to
die
?
All
those
times
he
had
thought
that
it
was
about
to
happen
and
escaped
,
he
had
never
really
thought
of
the
thing
itself
:
His
will
to
live
had
always
been
so
much
stronger
than
his
fear
of
death
.
Yet
it
did
not
occur
to
him
now
to
try
to
escape
,
to
outrun
Voldemort
.
It
was
over
,
he
knew
it
,
and
all
that
was
left
was
the
thing
itself
:
dying
.
If
he
could
only
have
died
on
that
summer
's
night
when
he
had
left
number
four
,
Privet
Drive
,
for
the
last
time
,
when
the
noble
phoenix
feather
wand
had
saved
him
!
If
he
could
only
have
died
like
Hedwig
,
so
quickly
he
would
not
have
known
it
had
happened
!
Or
if
he
could
have
launched
himself
in
front
of
a
wand
to
save
someone
he
loved
...
He
envied
even
his
parents
'
deaths
now
.
This
cold-blooded
walk
to
his
own
destruction
would
require
a
different
kind
of
bravery
.
He
felt
his
fingers
trembling
slightly
and
made
an
effort
to
control
them
,
although
no
one
could
see
him
;
the
portraits
on
the
walls
were
all
empty
.
Slowly
,
very
slowly
,
he
sat
up
,
and
as
he
did
so
he
felt
more
alive
and
more
aware
of
his
own
living
body
than
ever
before
.
Why
had
he
never
appreciated
what
a
miracle
he
was
,
brain
and
nerve
and
bounding
heart
?
It
would
all
be
gone
...
or
at
least
,
he
would
be
gone
from
it
.
His
breath
came
slow
and
deep
,
and
his
mouth
and
throat
were
completely
dry
,
but
so
were
his
eyes
.
Dumbledore
's
betrayal
was
almost
nothing
.
Of
course
there
had
been
a
bigger
plan
:
Harry
had
simply
been
too
foolish
to
see
it
,
he
realized
that
now
.
He
had
never
questioned
his
own
assumption
that
Dumbledore
wanted
him
alive
.
Now
he
saw
that
his
life
span
had
always
been
determined
by
how
long
it
took
to
eliminate
all
the
Horcruxes
.
Dumbledore
had
passed
the
job
of
destroying
them
to
him
,
and
obediently
he
had
continued
to
chip
away
at
the
bonds
tying
not
only
Voldemort
,
but
himself
,
to
life
!
How
neat
,
how
elegant
,
not
to
waste
any
more
lives
,
but
to
give
the
dangerous
task
to
the
boy
who
had
already
been
marked
for
slaughter
,
and
whose
death
would
not
be
a
calamity
,
but
another
blow
against
Voldemort
.
And
Dumbledore
had
known
that
Harry
would
not
duck
out
,
that
he
would
keep
going
to
the
end
,
even
though
it
was
his
end
,
because
he
had
taken
trouble
to
get
to
know
him
,
had
n't
he
?
Dumbledore
knew
,
as
Voldemort
knew
,
that
Harry
would
not
let
anyone
else
die
for
him
now
that
he
had
discovered
it
was
in
his
power
to
stop
it
.
The
images
of
Fred
,
Lupin
,
and
Tonks
lying
dead
in
the
Great
Hall
forced
their
way
back
into
his
mind
's
eye
,
and
for
a
moment
he
could
hardly
breathe
.
Death
was
impatient
...
But
Dumbledore
had
overestimated
him
.
He
had
failed
:
The
snake
survived
.
One
Horcrux
remained
to
bind
Voldemort
to
the
earth
,
even
after
Harry
had
been
killed
.
True
,
that
would
mean
an
easier
job
for
somebody
.
He
wondered
who
would
do
it
...
Ron
and
Hermione
would
know
what
needed
to
be
done
,
of
course
...
That
would
have
been
why
Dumbledore
wanted
him
to
confide
in
two
others
...
so
that
if
he
fulfilled
his
true
destiny
a
little
early
,
they
could
carry
on
...
Like
rain
on
a
cold
window
,
these
thoughts
pattered
against
the
hard
surface
of
the
incontrovertible
truth
,
which
was
that
he
must
die
.
I
must
die
.
It
must
end
.
Ron
and
Hermione
seemed
a
long
way
away
,
in
a
far-off
country
;
he
felt
as
though
he
had
parted
from
them
long
ago
.
There
would
be
no
good-byes
and
no
explanations
,
he
was
determined
of
that
.
This
was
a
journey
they
could
not
take
together
,
and
the
attempts
they
would
make
to
stop
him
would
waste
valuable
time
.
He
looked
down
at
the
battered
gold
watch
he
had
received
on
his
seventeenth
birthday
.
Nearly
half
of
the
hour
allotted
by
Voldemort
for
his
surrender
had
elapsed
.
He
stood
up
.
His
heart
was
leaping
against
his
ribs
like
a
frantic
bird
.
Perhaps
it
knew
it
had
little
time
left
,
perhaps
it
was
determined
to
fulfill
a
lifetime
's
beats
before
the
end
.
He
did
not
look
back
as
he
closed
the
office
door
.
