His Own Wand
/Ouch/
Harry's head made abrupt contact with the cold stone floor. Pin pricks of dull yellow light penetrated the dark, before his vision faded back into use. The figure standing over him was the same figure that had just ambushed him in the darkness. The dark, slightly hunched figure emitted malevolence like radioactivity. No less dangerous for it's subtlety.
/What the…/
Silhouetted against the dim night sky, the raising of a horribly familiar wand was just visible. His wand. He had only a minute ago raised it in self-defence and dropped it. Now it was being used against him; his own wand.
A soft chuckle bounced uncomfortably off the surrounding walls. Harry's mind waded through hundreds upon thousands of fragmented memories trying to place the sound. It wasn't Voldemort. It wasn't Snape. It wasn't even Malfoy. It wasn't anyone who normally tried to kill him or make his life at Hogwarts hell. While he was thinking, the human spectre struck.
As his mind and lips formed the words 'Who are you?' his attacker's formed and uttered the last thing he ever heard.
"Avada Kedavra"
The last thing Harry Potter knew in this world was a blinding flash of green light. And then no more.