My first one-shot... I'm so proud... Lol.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
WARNING: Contains suicide and HBP spoilers.
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Branches swing low.
The wind howls loudly.
Thunder shakes the ground.
The earth cracks open.
Burying the secrets of people.
Personalities fall into the depths of hell.
Feelings of a hidden past surface.
Colors of a sunset drift by, before burning into nothing but ashes.
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This is how it was as the green light flew from Harry's wand.
This is how it was when the light hit Voldemort.
This is how it was when he fell.
Harry defeated Voldemort with the thought of revenge for those who died. But might as well have been killed.
Ron and Hermione were killed long before the final battle.
All of the Weasley's were gone.
The Granger's were dead.
Hogwarts was in ruins. All the children who had once thrived there were dead after a death eater attack.
All of the teachers were long gone. Even Hagrid.
Harry began to weep at the thought of his two best friends and Hagrid. All were dead because of him.
The Dursley's had been killed just after Dumbledore had been murdered.
The Order was gone. Everybody was dead, including Lupin.
Harry was now on his knees. Tears flowed freely and rapidly down his face. He took a small knife out of his pocket.
The ministry was in flames, all the aurors were gone. Tonks had been killed right before the final battle.
Harry looked into the fire that was in front of him. It was his only companion in the horrific world that had died right before his eyes.
Harry thought about the times when he could still laugh. He remembered Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret. He remembered when the Weasley twins sent him that toilet seat in his first year.
He remembered Sirius coming to see him off at the platform. He thought about that troll that he and Ron had saved Hermione from the troll. He laughed when he remembered Dumbledore's speech at the beginning of his first year.
He began to cry harder as he remembered Ginny. Holding her hand. Kissing her.
He stopped thinking as his mind wandered to their dead bodies. Tortured, mangled and dead bodies. All his fault.
The laughing voices of the death eaters echoed in his head. Snape's sneer as he watched Harry mourn over his friends.
He remembered giving Ron and Hermione a hug as they destroyed the last horcrux. He wanted to be with them. He missed his friends. His peers. His family.
Harry took his knife and slowly pressed it into his skin. He felt the flesh rip as the knife sank deeper and deeper into him. He watched triumphantly as blood began to seep out. He quickly did the other one, and to his pleasure, got the same reaction.
He lay back. He slowly faded into a world of blackness.
Blood poured from the wound, and dripped into the fire.
Finally, drenched in Harry's blood, his last friend flickered and died.
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What do you think? It's my first one-shot. R&R, and remember, flames are for arsonists!