Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, just the words put together and the actual story making. Also, the story title belongs to the Smashing Pumpkins.

The End Is The Beginning Is The End

It was one of those nights. One of those nights when Harry had a bit more to drink than he should have. He started yelling at her about ithem/i. The one's who had died. Ron. Ginny. Lily. James. Sirius. Tonks. Mad-Eye. Lupin. Hagrid. Dumbledore. All of them. Dead. Gone forever. All due to the war with Voldemort. The inevitable war the moment Dumbledore brought Tom Riddle from that orphanage.

He knows its not her fault. It's his fault. He was the one who made everyone die. He was the cause for the war. If he hadn't lived only his parents would be dead. Everyone else would be with him still. He was plagued with guilt. She didn't know how to help. She was the only one left. She tried her best to stick around for him. But if he didn't know what he needed then she didn't either.

"Just get out."

Her eyes widened at the tone of his words. They sounded twisted. Evil. Dark. It must have been the alcohol. She didn't need to be told twice. She started towards the door.

"Wait."

She stopped and slowly turned around. He was standing in front of the fire, wand held tightly in his hand.

"Harry, what are you doing?" She didn't have her wand. It was on the table. Next to him. She had never mastered using spells without a wand. She was only twenty. It took ages to learn that.

"I can't have you leaving me too, Hermione." Harry lifted his wand. His eyes were hidden in shadows. His body looked like a silhouette against the backdrop of a blazing fire.

"Harry, what're you--" She started to speak as he muttered words. She found herself being dragged across the floor against her will. She was forced down to sit in a chair. The bonds holding her hurt even though they were invisible. Her eyes got glossy with tears. "Harry, please," she begged. "Stop." The last word came out as a whisper.

Harry could see her. Her pretty face. A light feathering of freckles across her nose. Bushy brown hair. He couldn't stop himself. It felt like a part of him had turned cold. Evil like Voldemort. Had Harry kept part of Voldemort's horrible soul? "I'm sorry," he told her before pointing his wand at her throat.

A piercing scream filled the night air as it felt like electricity was being shot through a poor girl's body. The screaming died down to a soft whimper before stopping altogether. Harry's wand was dropped on the hard wood floor. Hermione was slumped in the chair, her chest still. Salty tears fell down the man's face as he dropped to his knees. He pulled his dear friend out of the chair. Her body was limp and her eyes frozen with the look of pleading terror.

A/N: I'm feeling a bit dark so here ya go. A very dark/twisted Harry. It sort of explains itself and as you can guess, this doesn't really follow the last book. But that's the point of AU. Review please!