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Harry sat by Dumbledore, listening to him relay his admittedly, infuriatingly brilliant plan to defeat Voldemort. He stood by and comforted the old wizard at times when the pain of memories was too much.
“If you planned your death with Snape, you meant for him to end up with the elder wand, didn’t you?” Harry asked following along and making the connections in his mind.
“I admit that was my intention” said Dumbledore, “but it did not work as I intended, did it?”
“No’ Harry admitted, “That bit didn’t work out” He hated to say it, he felt as if Dumbledore had suffered enough in his long lifetime.
As the horrible mangled creature jerked and moaned, Harry and Dumbledore sat there, without talking for what felt like quite a long time. Understanding nearly everything about his plan, nearly everything, Harry felt a bit of triumph, But more than that, he felt a great weariness. So much pain, so much death to get to this point. Harry found himself imagining facing everyone again, watching the Weasleys grieve, watching everyone grieve over their lost loved ones. It was painful and he feared it. Not their reactions. He knew that they wouldn’t hold any of this against him but just facing them and knowing he didn’t manage to stop it.
But, he still had a job to do, didn’t he? As hard as it was, as painful as it was.
“I’ve got to go back, haven’t I?”
“That is up to you.”
“I’ve got a choice?”
“Oh yes” Dumbledore smiled at him. “We are in King’s Cross, you say? I think that if you decided not to go back, you would be able to….let’s say...board a train”
“And where would that take me?”
“On” Dumbledore said simply. Harry sighed he thought about it. If he went back, he could perhaps defeat Voldemort. And then what? There would still be his supporters to contend with. The wizarding world would still have its problems. There could be another Voldemort. Would he be called upon once again?
Harry dreaded the thought. He knew he would want to, that he would be driven to. But it would destroy him, to go through all this pain and loss again. The wizarding world was much to big for one wizard to fix, he felt as if it was far too big and deeply broken for even a group of wizards on their own to repair.
“Will they be okay?” He asked earnestly.
“I think so.” Dumbledore nodded. He expected disappointment in his eyes, but he only found understanding. “You have faced much in your life, much of it, regrettably caused by me-”
“By Voldemort” Harry said firmly.
Dumbledore looked thoughtful “That too, I suppose. Still it is not shameful to want to pass on.”
Harry thought about it. Voldemort could be defeated now. “You-you always said that- that death was the next great adventure. I-Is that true?” He asked.
Dumbledore smiled. “Very true. It is what you make of it.”
Harry looked at the train still in the station. It felt as if it called out to him.
“I only have to..to board the train?” He asked. Dumbledore nodded.
“If that is what you wish.” Harry got up.
“Thank you Professor. For everything” He said. Dumbledore nodded smiling, perhaps a bit tearfully as mist began to obscure him.
“I am proud of you Harry. You have done well” Harry made his way to the train and his body trembled as he watched the door slide open. Wrenching his feet from the ground he boarded the train and sighed as the door slid closed behind him, with finality.
As soon as he boarded as if the train had been waiting solely for him, it started moving and Harry watched King’s Cross fade away into what looked like nothingness. Little did he know, he had died in this world, but his life was far from over.