Fires raged and buildings crumbled in the heart of London. The world around it dead, devoid of any and all life. All that was left was the two beings standing in the centre of the destruction. The Leaders of the Second Wizarding War. The war had been raging on for twenty odd years, neither side gaining any ground against the other but both losing more as the fighting continued.

The war started in the United Kingdom, it was a hidden war, hidden from the non-magical community. It started with the rebirth of the most monstrous Dark Wizard in over a hundred years, Lord Voldemort, born Tom Marvolo Riddle a loveless and disturbed child. For the first year of his rebirth, he hid from the magical world, to grow his strength and followers back to the number he had gained before his downfall. They had numbered into the thousands, not just witches and wizard but all manner of dark and dangerous creatures.

The magical government at that time had denied he was once again alive, shunning and defaming all who disagreed with them. Even going so far as to arrest and sentence some who went against their word. When Lord Voldemort accidently revealed himself in the atrium of the Ministry for Magic, the light side of the Wizarding World revolted against the Ministry, demanding answers and that those few who had been sent to Azkaban be released under false charges.

The dark side, on the other hand, grew, they grew hard and fast. Gaining numbers by the day, hundreds of witches and wizards from the Isles, numerous werewolf packs and clans of vampires, hordes of giants and trolls. The Dementors had flocked back to Lord Voldemort, with his promise of thousands of souls to feed upon.

Within the next year, the then Leader of the Light, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbldore was murdered. Murdered by a spy from Lord Voldemorts army, during a raid on the school in which he was headmaster at, shot in the back with the Killing Curse by someone whom he considered a friend. That is when the war changed.

The light side started to fight back, a new Leader of the Light arose, one who knew that to win they had fight fire with fire. He rallied them to Hogwarts, the once great school becoming a base of operations, where they trained and lived and healed daily.

Five years had passed since Albus Dumbledore death, seven long years the war had stayed hidden from the general public of the non-magical world. Until one battle was seen and recorded by hundreds of people, it spread to the world, on news channels and webpages and fear set in. The public demanded an answer from their governments and the truth got out, how? No one will ever know.

Like the witch trials of Salem, fear overrode their senses, people were accused of being magical and killed. Tied to crosses and burnt alive, tens of thousands across the world died this way, of course, some were truly magical and this brought down the wrath of the dark side. They fought to destroy all non-magicals, to eradicate them from existence, to protect their way of life and remove the taint from the magical world.

The light fought to protect them, they knew that if the world was to lose the non-magicals, it would crumble. For they knew that magic would die, vanish without a source of new magic or in other words, those born from non-magical parents. Records from deep within the old Ministry for Magic show this. There were more first generation magicals born within the last one hundred years than ever recorded from the time of the ministry being opened. Of course, this was hidden away by Voldemort when he was young to fool those of pure blood, to better rally then against the non-magicals and first gens.

Over the course of the next five years, World War 3 had begun. It was a devastating thing, nuclear weapons were used, destroying whole countries in seconds. By the end few non-magicals remained, they had been officially wiped out some three years before where our story starts. Magicals survived due to powerful wards set up in major cities, but even these cities fell to the magical war that still raged on. All that was left was London, but now, that too is slowly falling.

The fight still wore on between the Leaders of Light and Dark, the last two humans. The tall snake-like man that is Lord Voldemort and battle scared Harry Potter, who at this moment are locked in a magical phenomenon known as Prior Incantatem. This had happened on numerous occasions, with one always retreating due to defeat, but never being able to kill their foe.

"it's over Potter," Voldemort screamed over the sound of the spell. "I have won, the Muggles are all gone, only magic is left to rule the world!"

"No Tom!" replied Harry. "Only you would be left to rule, or did you forget, we are all that survives!"

Voldemort growled in response, pushing more magic into his spell, enough to overpower Harrys and destroy his wand.

"It's over Potter," Voldemort sneered at him, slowly walking to the downed man, wand trained upon him. "This time I will kill you."

"Go ahead, Tom," Harry spat back. "There is nothing left for me to fight for. End it, so I can see my friends and family again. End it, so I can be at peace."

A smile was on Harry's face, as he watched the green light of oblivion slowly make its way to his heart.

BOOM!

White light exploded out from Harry's body. Evaporating everything in its path, it made its way across the globe, nothing could have survived it. Magic had vanished from the world never to return. Life had been destroyed by one foolish man.