An excruciating surge of bitter despair gripped Harry's heart as he faced the love of his life for what would be the last time.
She was dying. She looked perfectly healthy, but she was dying.
Even worse, was that he knew that her pride was forcing her to push him away.
Talk about a rather permanent break-up.
As they shared what he knew would be their last kiss, he felt his heart shatter. He knew what he must do; she could not be forced to suffer by her own pride.
"Forgive me love," he whispered in her ear before taking a step back and drawing his wand.
"Avada Kedavra," he incanted. The expression on her face that was captured forever by the death curse was a serene smile.
A permanent break-up indeed.
"Rest in peace, my Rowena."