Harry Potter stands at the edge of the balcony of the Astronomy Tower smoking a pack of cigarettes, his only friend, at least that's what he tells himself. He places the pack of cigarettes and a muggle lighter on the railing of the balcony and leans over slightly to look at the ground some hundred feet below. He takes out one of the cigarettes and lights it up, taking a long, slow drag from it, reveling at the quickness in which the nicotine spreads throughout his body. He expertly flicks the butt of the cigarette over the side of the tower and watches as it falls to the earth till he can no longer see it. He removes another from the pack and lights it, taking another drag from it he shivers as he exhales, whether it be from the drug he's become so addicted to or the cool breeze that begins to pick up. He once again finishes this particular cigarette and flicks it over the edge too. He begins to withdraw another cigarette but changes his mind and instead sets the entire pack ablaze and tosses it over the edge and watches as it falls to the cold, hard earth below.
He soon becomes bored, as is his custom these days; he looks up at the great expanse of sky before him and the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest. His thoughts then turned to the one place he didn't want them to, thoughts of the war, and thoughts of all those lost during it, and thoughts of one person in particular that was lost.
Oh yes, he knew many lives had ended all because of the war, too many in most's opinion, including his, but at that particular moment all he really cared about was one. That one special person he had wanted nothing more but to spend the rest of his life with them, but that dream was quickly stripped from him with one simple curse. One simple curse had his entire life crumbling before him, he had nothing to live for, nothing at all thanks to that curse. He had fulfilled the prophesy and completed his destiny but at too high a price in his personal opinion. And he vowed to be with that person again, he made a decision that that time was tonight, now. He was tired of waiting, waiting to live, waiting to die, he was just tired of waiting altogether and he was ready to take back control in his own life.
So he slowly climbed up onto the railing of the balcony and peered down at the ground far below. He looked back up, straight ahead at the horizon stretched out in front of him, and spread his arms outward and slowly turned so that he was facing back into the tower and his back away from it. He stood there for a moment then a small smile began to creep along his face as he started to fall backwards to the endless blackness of the nights.
They found him the next morning, lying on his back at the base of the tower, arms spread wide, and a smile plastered forever on his face.
FIN.