Harry was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling. Said ceiling was perfectly white; as were his walls and everything else in the room.
The white walls were padded; why? Because that was how walls looked like in a mental institution. You might wonder why Harry Potter; the boy who lived; the golden boy, the hero sorted into Gryffindor was currently placed in a mental institution.
The reason was quite simple; after Sirius had died something inside of Harry had shattered. It had shattered and had destroyed his link with Voldemort. It had shattered and had obliterated Bellatrix Lestrange. That thing inside of him that had protected him from the killing curse had always been inside a carefully built crystal box; Harry had always known it was there. It was what made it possible for him to cast the Patronus charm on the fragile age of thirteen; it was his strong will; his unparalleled powerful magic and the current reason he was in this room.
Harry had not only obliterated Bellatrix; he had glowed so bright when that crystal box broke that everyone that he had recognized as a threat had died a slow and painful death. It had killed Lucius Malfoy by choking him with what looked like pure magic changed into a hangman's knot.
It had killed all the other death eaters near Harry's presence in a similar way; Harry's eyes had glowed eerily green before he slowly walked towards the Atrium where he faced Voldemort for the fifth time.
Voldemort had mocked him; not yet realizing that Harry had just killed some of his most loyal followers. It didn't take long before Voldemort tried to possess Harry; the problem was that as soon as he did Voldemort died as Harry's magic lashed out; ripping the Dark Lord's mind apart. Seconds later Harry, who was still pulsating unadulterated magic, held his hand out as if he was about to shake someone's hand and somehow destroyed all of Voldemort hocruxes.
The problem however was that Harry did not stop there; as soon as the prime minister arrived he too got attacked by Harry's magic. After that had happened Harry disappeared from everyone's view. Three days later the aurors found the skeletons of almost all of Voldemort death eaters burned to a crisp when they were somehow summoned by magic to the department of mysteries' love room. Amidst all the skeletons laid Harry; he had looked tired; almost ghoulish. It was not even two hours later that Harry was deemed too mentally instable to be allowed to walk around freely. Harry hadn't resisted; he agreed with the Wizengamot's ruling this once.
Still; the white ceiling was somewhat pleasant too stare at. But after all that Harry had down in his calm rage caused by Sirius's death Harry felt guilty. How could he not? He was a fifteen year old boy that had killed; without so much as a warning, over three hundred witches and wizards; some of them had children. Some of the were only children; some of them were pregnant and some of them were not really death eaters but wore the mark all the same and so they were guilty in Harry's eyes at that moment in time; he hadn't bothered to check everyone's backstory he had just eliminated all possible threats.
He had taken care of all threats but one; himself. How could he in good conscious let himself stay alive when he could just like that snap again and kill hundreds perhaps thousands of people just because he thought them a threat? Who was he to act as judge, jury and executioner? What kind of evil was housed inside him that would allow him to do such unspeakable things.
They had thought that he was harmless now that he had been locked in a padded room that was supposed to strip him of all magical powers. They thought that the runes they had carved in the obsidian walls were enough to keep Harry from accessing his magic; but they were wrong. His magic had been too strong too damned stubborn to be kept locked away. Harry could still perform magic; he had known that even before he started to use it to play with to kill the time so to speak.
Yes his magic was still as willing to act on his will as it was the moment he had killed Bellatrix. And so Harry simply commanded his magic to create; from thin air, a gun with a bullet stored in it. Harry was going to rid the world of its greatest threat; he was going to remove Harry James Potter; the boy that was too strong for his own good.
Harry had already written a note of apology for those who he would leave behind he had written his will; all that had ever belonged to him would be auctioned for charity and all his gold would be given to charity as well; he had always liked Clini Clowns.
He had laid his will on his pillow and his note of apology in his lap as he placed the gun between his eyes. Harry didn't cry, didn't make a sound as the bullet went through his brain.
And before he died only one thought was present in his mind; He had succeeded in ridding this world of evil.
You ever read those Harry Potter stories in which Harry gets so depressed he tries to take his own life? Well in this one something truly amazing happens. He succeeds.