He had done the deed.
He was gone.
They were happy.
Walking down the street.
And they didn't know.

The world moved on;
they didn't even thank him.
Not the minister.
Nor a single person.

He was a ghost.
A painful reminder.
With his death,
it would all be over.

For him;
For his friends.
For his enemies.
For the person he loved.
For everyone.

No one would care.
The last shadow would be gone.
Only a faint memory.

Harry had killed his only friend.
His lover.
His guide.
The only one who understood him.
His enemy, Lord Voldemort.

Harry was all alone.