Harry went to bed early on July 30th thinking back ten years earlier. He remembered back 3,650 days to the eve of his eleventh birthday. He reminisced about the feelings he had about interesting things that might have happened that night. He sat on the floor with tears running down his cheeks, thinking of all the good times he had during his seven years t Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He thought of the night he was rescued from the very room he was in by his 'best friend' and the flying car. But then he remembered back a further three years when he woke up to find his presents to be non-existent and to find Dudley chomping on his 'birthday cake'. At this thought he clenched the knife in his hand more firmly; he stopped crying and suddenly became very angry. He remembered being locked in the garden shed for 12 hours a day, everyday since he came home from his final fight with Lord Voldemort. A grin came to his face as he remembered breaking out of the shed and hitting all three of his relatives with the killing curse. Then, once again, he became angry again as he remembered being thrown in Azkaban for his crime, his wand being snapped in front of him and the feeling of depression when he was told: Voldemort's forces were building up again and that they had killed Ginny and Hermione. He sat and thought of Ron. Ron; who Harry had done so much for. Ron, who had abandoned Harry when Harry needed him most. Harry stood up. He felt the knife in his hand. He put it to his wrist and fell back to the floor. As blood began to trail across the floor, Harry remembered the first time he stepped into Hogwarts. He looked down at his bloody wrists and realised how many people had died to save him: Lupin, his parents, his godfather not to mention the people who died in the great battle against Voldemort. But the person to finally defeat Harry Potter was himself. As he realised this, his eyes glazed over and he remained still.