Merry Xmas one and all! This fic/one shot is a gift for ReadingBlueWolf, as part of The Reviews Lounge Too Holiday Exchange! Please, enjoy. Have a great holiday season.

The crowds dispersed, exchanging small smiles and condolences with those they were familiar with. The merpeople sank below the water, the house elves made their way back to the kitchens, Hogwarts students wandered off in their own small groups. The sun was shining, but the mood was dull. Harry Potter himself wandered across the grounds, intending to find a quiet space, to sit alone for a while. No doubt that Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, or Luna would find him, persuade him to join them. Or Scrimgeour would scout him out, begging for help as he always did.

The grief had yet to hit him, had yet to sink in. Unlike with the death of Sirius, Harry simply felt numb, and had since it had happened. Slowly, he had distanced himself from the others; let them decide what to do with their lives now. Hogwarts was no longer safe, that was guaranteed. To think, the safety of all the students and staff had rested with one man, one frail old man, was almost laughable.

Harry wanted to laugh. But the sounds wouldn't work. He wanted to cry, hell, to scream. Something, to show that he wasn't some emotionless robot, incapable of feeling anything.

Dumbledore's man through and through.

What would happen now? Horcruxes, that was certain. Harry knew that his days at the school were numbered, that he may not be returning for some time, if at all. Now he was exposed, ready for Voldemort to find, ready for capture. If only it could happen now, all be over with.

In a way, Harry wished that he had gone down with Dumbledore that night too, a split second, a flash of light. To be with the ones he loved, his parents, Sirius, and now Dumbledore, free from the task that was now set out before him.

But now the fate of the Wizarding World rested upon the shoulders of Mr. Potter. All because of some stupid glitch, his mother's love. Had he not lived, this would never had happened. Had Harry perished at Godrics Hollow, he could be with his family again, she could be free.

He was weak.

Harry had to live, and how he hated it. How he hated watching, the suffering and death before him, people he was unable to save from Voldemort's wrath.

People had died. People were dying. People would die.

And that would continue for as long as Harry stalled his quest, for as long as he hung around, hiding from his fate.

A fate from which he may not return.

He had no plan- But Dumbledore had not had elaborate plans either, and he had survived this long. Only to be defeated at the final hurdle.

Would Harry be defeated too?

Harry pulled himself from the grass where he had sat, ready.

He had a job to do.