** This chapter contains an excerpt from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling. It is clearly marked with 'JKR'. I do not own it! **

Chapter 1: Prologue

Dead leaves swirled on the forest floor where Harry stood. He was standing tall and upright, defenceless but ready, waiting for Voldemort to raise his wand.

This was it. It all had to end.

He almost wished he could start from the beginning; to back in time, armed with the knowledge he had now, and save all those he loved.

Merlin, it killed him to have so many deaths on his conscience. So many people that he could have saved, if only he had done something differently or had been quicker.

Harry knew it was too late. That the end was in sight and it wouldn't matter in a few moments, when he was no longer here. However, he could not help but dwell on a second chance.

He dragged his thoughts away from his regrets and focused on slowing down his thumping chest. He looked more closely at the clearing. The blazing fire illuminated the faces, or masks, of those present.

JKR:

None of the Death Eaters moved. They were waiting: Everything was waiting. Hagrid was struggling, and Bellatrix was panting, and Harry thought inexplicably of Ginny, and her blazing look, and the feel of her lips on his —

Voldemort had raised his wand. His head was still tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded. Harry looked back into the red eyes, and wanted it to happen now, quickly, while he could still stand, before he lost control, before he betrayed fear —

He saw the mouth move and a flash of green light, and everything was gone. - JKR

Harry felt as if his whole body was falling through a vacuum. Everything felt numb and wind roared in his ears.

He could hear voices. There were so many of them, talking a million miles an hour without pause. Soon, the voices turned into a buzzing noise. It was getting louder and louder, and the pressure on his ear drums was starting to hurt.

The wind was faster now, too. It was icy cold and felt as if hundreds of knives were piercing his skin.

He found it more and more difficult to breathe. He was taking in as many gulps of air as he could as he felt the air thinning.

Harry wanted it to stop. He could not bare it. The pain was too much. He breathe was running out.

As darkness consumed him, Harry could only think of how completely wrong Sirius was.

It did hurt to die.