He had won, that was his only absolute, the only think he knew and the last thing he cared about. In fact everything he cared about had been long gone before this one circumstance became the absolute. In fact winning was not even his goal anymore, he had just wanted to end it. He didn't care about the process or the implications just the outcome, he wanted an end regardless, new beginnings be damned. In retrospect he probably should have though a bit more about the starting over. Not that he thought all that much about the end when it came down to it. A true end only crossed his mind a few minutes before it happened, as he held both of his wands in his hands, one that his opponent held not seconds before. He held them and all he could think of was all that he had lost all for the power of the wand in his hand, the stone he dropped in the forest and the cloak he had all but lost track of. His friends had died regardless of him giving himself up and they had all but just lain down and taken it after voldemort had slaughtered Neville for killing Nagini. If anyone he knew or even knew of had still been alive maybe it would have turned out differently, but they weren't and it didn't. So he squeezed those wands for dear life and felt as both of their cores connected to his inner one. He had now words or spells just a feeling. He wanted everything over with and if he had his way there would be nothing left. The two wands sparked and shook in his hand as he whispered "end it", and he did. Now they were dead. He didn't see it but he knew, that's how he knew he had won and that it had ended.
The thing is, something else had started and he wasn't sure what it was, where it was or why it was.