Decisions in the Night

GETHSEMANE

I only want to say, if there is a way
Take this cup away from me
For I don't want to taste its poison
Feel it burn me, I have changed I'm not as sure
As when we started

Then I was inspired. now I'm sad and tired
Listen surely I've exceeded expectations
Tried for three years, seems like thirty
Could you ask as much from any other man?

Harry awoke from his dream, a cold sweat pouring down his face. His nightshirt clung to his clammy body as the cool air of the dormitory washed over him. He slid his bed curtains aside to see the gray light of the moon wash over his form. Harry let his eyes roam around the room, content that everything was as it should be.

Letting his heartbeat slow, Harry closed his curtains once again and fell back against his sweat-soaked pillow. The dormitory was unchanged, unharmed. There was no battle. His friends were still alive and asleep in their beds. The world was as it should be.

So why did Harry feel the sensation of impending doom?

For a long while, Harry lay on his bed, his eyes tracing the wood patterns on the ceiling. He couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, praying for deliverance from his dreams. Praying for solace from any god who could grant it.

'Why me?'

The question echoed in his mind over and over again. For the past three years, Harry had been asking himself that same question. Why did he have to be the one to fight Voldemort? Why did his parents have to be killed? Why did he even have to be a wizard?

'Because it is your destiny. This is your fate... and nothing will ever change that.'

This was the first time he had ever received a reply of any type. He mulled over this new information in his head. Destiny. What was destiny? He never asked for this.

'We don't ask for our destiny. It is what is given to us. Your duty is to follow where it leads you.'

Harry closed his eyes as the voice filtered through his conscious mind. It had been three years since he had thought of his old Headmaster. The one man who really understood him... who had taken him under his wing.

Three years ago to the day, Dumbledore had perished in the ongoing battle of good and evil. The door that had once been locked in his memory suddenly burst open as he remembered what happened that night.

That morning he had received a letter from Sirius. But something... something wasn't right. He wasn't sure what caused the feeling, but he knew he had to speak to Dumbledore. Together, they discerned that it was from somebody else. Dumbledore had gone with Harry that night.

Two twin rivers fell from his eyes at that moment. Only two tears for the man who meant the world to him.

Even when he closed his eyes, Harry could still see his Headmaster, lying on the ground, his robes soaked with his own blood. His death had not been painless... Voldemort had seen to that. Before he had died, he pulled Harry into a tight embrace, much like a father saying goodbye to his only son.

"We don't ask for our destiny," Dumbledore had said, "It is what is given to us. Your duty is to follow where it leads you."

And with those last words, Dumbledore had faded from the land of the living, leaving behind the world-weary shell of a man. Voldemort had disappeared, left to triumph over the defeat of the only man who would keep him from Harry. Harry was left sobbing over Dumbledore's prone form.

There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't blame himself for Dumbledore's death.

But if I should die...
See the saga through, and do the things you ask of me
Let them hate me, hit me, hurt me, nail me to their tree

I'd want to know, I'd want to know my God
I'd want to see, I'd want to see my God
Why I should die?
Would I be more noticed than I ever was before?
Would the things I've said and done matter any more?

At last, the silence of the room was too overwhelming. Harry needed to escape from the quiet. He needed to escape from his thoughts... his memories... and from himself.

Dumbledore had died for the cause of defeating Voldemort... and now it was Harry's legacy. It was up to him to face the Dark Lord once and for all. But what could he do? He was a boy... a mere mortal. Dumbledore had age... wisdom... experience behind him and yet he couldn't defeat the Dark Lord. How could Harry expect to? Why did the burden have to be on his shoulders?

Already he had to live with more than any child his own age did. Known where ever he went, Harry would never know the comfort of a private life. With the defeat of Voldemort, the possibility of fading into obscurity was obsolete. He would be known by every witch and wizard... and possibly ever Muggle. The Boy-Who-Lived. The Boy-Who-Defeated-Lord-Voldemort. The Boy-Who-Saved-The-World. Did they ever consider the final possibility: the Boy-Who-Died?

He knew in his heart that the entire world was counting on him this night. Whether they knew it or not, everyone prayed for him this night. Prayed for his safety... prayed for deliverance from the terror that threatened the world.

Harry's thoughts continued like this... rushing through his mind like a raging river. Thoughts crushed against the rocks of his mind. He saw his hopes and dreams dashed to pieces.

Escape. The one word flew through his mind as he left his bed, not bothering to close the bed curtains. He reached into his trunk and grasped the watery fabric that had lent itself to so many midnight adventures. He eased the cloak around his shoulders as he made his way down to the common room.

As he figured, the room was completely deserted. Harry made his way to the chair in front of the fire and threw himself onto the leathery cushion. He didn't remove his cloak... he didn't want to be seen by anyone. He needed to clear his mind. Needed to clear...

Time passed slowly for Harry as he sat in the common room, his cloak thrown around his shoulders. Occasionally a few students would return in groups of two... their robes and hair in disarray. No doubt the last occupants of an empty classroom down the hall or a small nook in the Astronomy Tower. How many nights had he and Hermione returned in a similar state?

Harry watched with a touch of sorrow as he saw the couple kiss one last time before retreating to their separate quarters. In the dingy light, Harry could only make out the features of Seamus as he watched his lady love climb the stairs. Then, he himself made his way up the stairs to their tower room, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

"Hermione..." Harry muttered under his breath, his gaze on the stairway. "I wish it didn't have to be like this."

His eyes dropped down to the piece of parchment left folded in his lap. He opened it and read it again... letting the words sink in...

It is time to finish this battle. I will come for you tonight. You will know when you see it. I'll be waiting.

No names were used, yet Harry would recognise the script anywhere. He had seen that same scrawl in the diary... and in various notes throughout the years. In the beginning, Voldemort had attempted to trick him by using Sirius's name. Yet, after his first encounter with one of those doctored notes, Harry saw through the difference and was prepared. While that encounter had left him severely injured... if not for the fact that Harry could recognise his Godfather's handwriting... he would have been killed. Yet, Dumbledore had perished instead.

Harry crumpled the note in his hand and lifted the edge of the cloak so that he had a view of the dying fireplace. With a flick of his wrist, the ball of paper sailed towards the fireplace and settled itself near the last of the glowing embers. A brief flare of light and the paper curled into dark ashes. The last evidence destroyed.

From behind him, Harry heard the light tread of an animal. He hastily dropped the cloak, hoping he was carefully concealed behind the shimmery fabric. Harry held his breath as he saw the familiar form of an Irish Setter pass to his right. No doubt Ron was on the prowl looking for him. The dog turned and looked in Harry's direction, as if he could see him. Harry glanced down at his feet to see only half of one foot under the cloak. He carefully moved the foot slightly... just enough so that the cloak concealed him completely.

For a few minutes, the dog continued to watch him. In that instant, Harry knew Ron could see him. While he was invisible to the dog... a silent understanding passed between them.

Ron turned his on his tail with a small whine before exiting through the portrait hole.

I'd have to know, I'd have to know my Lord
I'd have to see, I'd have to see my Lord
If I die what will be my reward?
I'd have to know, I'd have to know my Lord
Why, why should I die? Oh, why should I die?

Can you show me now that I would not be killed in vain?
Show me just a little of your omnipresent brain
Show me there's a reason for your wanting me to die
You're far too keen on where and how, but not so hot on why

Harry knew he should have said something. Anything. Yet, he let his best friend walk out of his life without another word. How could he ever forgive himself for that? And more importantly, would Ron ever forgive him?

It was too late to ask the what-if's. What's done was done... and nothing could ever change that.

Harry could only stop himself from making the same mistake once again.

Rising from his chair, Harry made his way back upstairs to compose two quick messages. He pulled out his quill, a bottle of ink, and two pieces of parchment. The first letter he composed quickly... the words flowing from his pen like water.

Ron,
I know you saw me tonight... I won't lie about it. I know I should have said something... but the words escaped me. I never meant to betray you... but what I do tonight, I must do alone. I only hope you'll understand. This was never your fight... it was mine. This is my destiny... as yours is to play for the Canons. If I should die in the battle to come... what's left in my vault I leave to you. The key is in the bottom of my chest. I know you won't take the money, but do it as a last favor to me.

And when you're playing Quidditch... don't think of me with regret. Know I'm flying up there with you. I'll always be by your side. Friends until the end and beyond.

~ Harry

Harry quickly folded the first piece of parchment, then turned to writing the second letter. This one was excruciatingly hard to write... how could he put his feelings into words? How could he express the deepest desires of his heart? Picking up his quill, he began the second letter.

Hermione,
I don't even know what to say to you. I know you'll be heartbroken to read this, but please understand what I did was for the best. What I do tonight is for you and the rest of the world. I know there are promises I made that I won't be able to keep. But, I know you'll forgive me... because of what I know I must do.

How can I say in one letter what has taken me five years to finally understand? I love you... that's the most important thing. No matter what happens, I will always be near you. If I should survive... I promise to never leave your side again. And that is a promise I intend to keep.

If something should happen to me... please find your own happiness. I don't want you to grieve for me... for my sacrifice was necessary. It was necessary to ensure the Dark Lord's defeat. And if he is triumphant, than I am sorry I failed you my love. Please understand... I had to fight him alone. It's as you said before I faced Quirrell. I had to be the one to go on. And so I fulfill my own destiny. Always know this... I have always loved you. Always.

~ Harry

Hermione's letter was a good deal longer than Ron's, yet still didn't say everything he wanted to tell her. As he re-read her letter one last time, a thousand regrets filled his head. He'd never see her grow old... to raise a family with her... to see her give birth to their first child.

He was denying her her life... and it killed him. Tears brushed his eyes but Harry refused to let them fall. He would need his wits tonight... if he was going to have a chance.

Crossing the room, Harry dropped Ron's letter on the indented pillow. He took one last look at his home for the past seven years as he folded his cloak over his arm. Harry then made his way to the girl's dormitory, taking care to move as silently as possible. In his memory, he had only been in this section of the tower a few other times. Still, he knew which set of bed curtains contained his beloved.

He pushed them aside to see Hermione sleeping peacefully, completely unaware of the events about to transpire. Harry laid the note on her pillow, yet hesitated before letting the curtains fall... separating them forever.

She looked like an angel as she slept... her bushy hair framing her face like a halo. This time one lone tear managed to fall as he gazed at her. Much against his own will... Harry leaned down and brushed his lips against her own.

A slight moan escaped from her lips as Harry straightened up. Hermione rolled over in bed, settling down once again to sleep. He was about to drop the bed curtains when he heard her talk in her sleep.

"I love you, Harry James Potter."

Harry froze at her words. Surely she hadn't felt the kiss. She couldn't have...

"I love you too, Hermione," he whispered in reply, feeling a lump grow in his throat.

"When will I see you again?"

"You'll see me in your dreams," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I will always be there. I promise."

She mumbled something else before settling down to sleep once more. Whether she talked in her sleep or she knew he was there, Harry would never know. With one last look, Harry let the curtains fall, a red barrier that would separate them. A line between the living and the dead.

Alright I'll die! Just watch me die!
See how, see how I die! Oh, just watch me die!

Then I was inspired, now I'm sad and tired
After all I've tried for three years, seems like ninety
Why then am I scared to finish what I started
What you started, I didn't start it

God thy will is hard, but you hold every card
I will drink your cup of poison
Nail me to your cross and break me
Bleed me, beat me, kill me

Harry threw the Invisibility Cloak around his shoulders, knowing this may be his last midnight romp around the castle grounds. So many fond memories were locked within its stony walls. Memories and promises never to be fulfilled.

Hermione's face passed before his eyes. Sorrow filled his face and he made no attempt to hide it. He was alone... as he always had been. He knew she'd want to be with him. She'd probably blame herself for not coming with him. There was one thing she'd never understand.

This was something he had to do himself.

The battle had been started seventeen years ago. Minor skirmishes were won by both sides over the years. Still... in his heart, he knew it would come down to this. That it would come down to this night.

The final battle. The final duel. He would face Voldemort for the last time... and the stakes were high. Only one would survive. Only one would live to tell the tale.

Patting his wand one last time, he made his way out of the tower and down to the common room. He didn't know what he'd find when he reached the bottom of the stairs. It could be a circle of Death Eaters, standing before him... grinning. Waiting to take him to their master. Hoping. Hoping this would be the end of the Boy-Who-Lived.

After tonight... he would be no more than a name in the history books. No longer the Boy-Who-Lived, but the Boy-Who-Died. The Boy-Who-Had-Fallen to Voldemort like so many others. The Boy-Who-Failed-His-People.

The idea of failure weighed heavily on Harry's mind. For if he failed, the world as he knew it would cease to exist. All that would be left was darkness.

And that is why Harry knew he had to fight. Not for himself... not for those he loved, but for those he didn't know. He didn't want to be the cause of another child orphaned by Voldemort. Himself... Neville... it ended here.

Harry took that final step into the common room to find a wand sitting on the table in front of the fireplace. How many times had he and Hermione sat at that table discussing the latest potions essay. They sat there the night he had finally said those three little words for the first time.

I love you.

Now he stood looking at the table with loathing. That which once held such fond memories would now be the death of him. Where there was once a beginning, there would now be an end.

It was now or never. He could walk away now and fight another day, or be rid of this burden once and for all. Harry reached out and grasped the second wand.

Take me now
Before I change my mind