Trees hurtled past him in a blur of dark green and brown. The man ducked behind a large tree and bent over, panting. His clothes were muddied and torn; a red stain bloomed from his side. The man sunk to the floor and tried desperately to catch his breath quickly. His hand went to his arm and he pulled out his wand, his only means of defence against the murderous things following him.
"Come out, come out wherever you are," a voice called mockingly.
Behind the tree, the man held his breath and tried to non-verbally cast a Disillusionment charm on himself.
"Found him," a face peered around the tree. Its eyes were full of hate and its mouth was curled into a sadistic smile showing all of its yellowing teeth.
The man reacted quickly and quickly raised his wand however the creature was faster and disappeared behind the tree.
It ran towards the man and raised a gun.
It fired.
The bullet hit the man in the arm that was holding the wand. The man cried out in pain and dropped the wand, his other hand clutching the wound.
"Tsk, tsk. Don't you know we have the superior technology." the creature that fired the gun tutted. The man hissed at him.
"Isn't this the one they called their saviour?" another creature walked towards the man. "What was his name, Harry something."
"Yeah, Harry Potter." the first creature smirked. "Not so heroic now is he, I mean what could be so special about him if he could be brought down by a gun."
Harry slowly reached for his wand that he had dropped in front of him. The creature noticed him moving and quickly stomped on the wand. Beneath its foot, a cracking sound came from it. Harry gasped, the wand wasn't any ordinary wand; it was the Elder Wand, the Unbeatable Wand, and the wand that had supposedly been gifted to a wizard by Death.
"Oh, was that your magic stick," the creature sneered. "Your kind is unnatural and just shouldn't exist."
"No, your kind is the one that's unnatural." Harry surprised himself by speaking in an unwavering, cool tone. "What sort of creature hunts down people on how they were born?" This was rather ironic as wizards themselves killed muggleborns because they were born to muggles instead of wizards.
"Silence, we know exactly what your kind have done to us, " the creature hissed. "So you thought we were weak. Look at us now, I've bested you, the supposed 'hero' of the Wizarding World." The creature was gloating.
"You're no better," Harry hissed, his arm throbbed in pain.
"Really," the other creature said condescendingly while fiddling with its gun.
"Yeah, you thought we were weak and hunted us down, you think this makes you look good. Do you really think the murder of children and innocent people would make you look good?" Harry glared at them. His magic tried to lash out at the creatures but he kept it under control. It wouldn't do him much good to kill them and prove that he was the one at fault here.
"You've killed the planet with your nuclear weapons, how many more days do you think you have left. A week, maybe two if you're resourceful but in the end you'll also die. I guess Voldemort was right, your kind was the one to kill us and the whole planet in the process." Harry was tired, tired of all the fighting and death. First it was the Battle of Hogwarts in which he had seen his friends die and then the creatures killed of the remaining ones.
"Just kill him," on of the creatures gestured towards Harry.
"Any last words," the other one raised its gun and aimed it at Harry's head. When Harry didn't say anything, it simply grinned.
It fired again.
The bullet seemed to fly through the air in slow motion. It distorted Harry's vision as he remembered all his fallen friends and family. His wife Ginny; his sons James, Albus, Teddy; his daughter Lily; Hermione and Ron with their children when their house was bombed; Dean and Seamus as they were lynched for being together; Molly Weasley and Arthur Weasley and all their children; the Malfoys each died a hero, Albus' face when he found out Scorpius had died was the most heartbreaking.
A single tear made it's way down Harry's face as he remembered that one he died he would be with them. The bullet drew closer and he muttered a single farewell to the Wizarding World that had taught him much and in return he watched it burn.
The bullet hit him right where his lightning bolt scar was. His vision blurred, he thought it was because of the unshed tears in his eyes, and slowly the creatures, the trees, the setting sun all faded to black.
Harry Potter was dead and the Wizarding World fell with him.