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It's almost like saying Avada Kedavra.
Only not quite. He doesn't have to look in eyes widening in fear, he doesn't have to hear any screams. There are no fireworks, either: green jets of light, triumph at standing over the enemy's body. And no risk: there's no battle, no curses flying. He can't lose.
But apart from that, it's almost like saying Avada Kedavra.
"Godric's Hollow."
The words leave a metallic aftertaste, but as he goes he looks up at the others defiantly. Now he's one of them. He's completed his part and he's one of them, finally.
Isn't he.