He leaned against the wall, barely alive. The ruby-handled sword stuck through his shoulder, causing immense pain. He could feel its basilisk venom flowing through his veins, killing him slowly. But his killer would not wait.
He tried to apparate, but he couldn't focus. But he went numb when he heard a small pop behind him.
He turned his head, entire body screaming in pain. His killer loomed, a few meters away, a cold smile plastered on his face, a shadow of the one worn in the past. His skin was a waxy pale colour. His jet black hair laid messy upon his head, and through his round black glasses lay unfamiliar red eyes. On his forehead lay the scar where Riddle had failed to do the world a favor.
He killed Hermoine. He killed Ginny. He killed Neville, Luna, Mum, Dad, Charlie, Bill, Percy, George, everyone. Now it was his turn.
"Any last words, Ron?" he asked in a sneer.
Looking down at the wand pointed at his face, he could only think of one thing. "Yeah," Ron replied. "Fuck you Harry."
There was a flash of green, then he was gone.
