Smash! A jet of light exploded from the wand of the figure wearing black robes, splintering the glass of the picture frame into a thousand tiny pieces. He lowered his wand slowly, looking at the space where once had proudly sat a photograph of a smiling couple and a newborn baby. Then he turned his gaze to the other side of the room where the man in the photo stood, raising his wand, fear in his eyes.

"Expelliarmus!" yelled the figure, and the man's wand flew out of his hand. Catching the wand in his free hand, the wizard in black walked a few steps closer and looked at his foe with an expression of blind hatred.

"Harry Potter, your end has come at last," he said, his tone of voice almost soft, although if you listened closely you could hear the undertone of malice and hate.

"No glory for you now," he continued. "No adoring fans, no newspaper headlines. You will die scared and alone. Your fame gives you no protection. You will meet your end tonight.

"No! Please, don't do this!" sobbed Harry, kneeling helplessly. His face was streaked with desperate tears, his expression almost pathetic as he looked up at the man who was to be his killer. "Please, I'm begging you!"

"Not so brave now, Harry," said the cloaked figure with something akin to a smile. He spoke in a chilling, eerie voice, so dignified yet so angry. "Stand up like a man!" But Harry kept his head down, unable to look into the eyes of the man who stood before him. "But you have no honour. You insult me even by begging me. Your pleas have no meaning now. I have destroyed you. Look at you. The famous Harry Potter begging for his life! Shame on you. But that's not enough. You are broken, but still you breathe. Now you must die.

"I'm sorry!" screamed Harry through his tears, his eyes pleading as the other man raised his wand.

"Avada Kedavra!"

For a brief instant, Harry felt nothing. Then he ceased to even realise that he didn't feel. He fell.

Everything seemed in slow motion for the man in the cloak as the famous Harry Potter fell back, his empty body lifeless, as if the Harry he knew had never even existed. As he walked closer again and bent over the lifeless body of his worst enemy and best friend, Ron Weasley realised what he had done.

The door opened, and Hermione Potter burst into the room.

"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" she screamed as she ran over to her husband's body, lying on the floor. Then she looked up at Ron. "What have you done?"

Ron looked at her hopelessly and sadly.

"He had to die, Hermione. Can't you see that? You were the one thing I had that he didn't, but even that he took away from me! I loved you, Hermione!" he said, and here his voice stopped being so calm as it broke, giving way to misery and anger as he struggled not to cry. "But you went off with him! You broke my heart! You tore my soul into shreds! And then you paid me the ultimate insult. You named your son after me! Do you think I could just watch as you, Harry and your child played happy families? I'm letting you and Ron stay alive because I love you, Hermione. But the day Harry got you, he killed me inside. Now I've returned the favour. Goodbye, Hermione."

With on last look at Hermione's sobbing face Ron Weasley walked out the door, leaving her crying over the body of her husband, her soul-mate, the once great Harry Potter.