Page 228 - creative spark 2020

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And that was rather anticlimactic. For Riddle — Lord
Voldemort — to be defeated so easily after his many attempts to kill
Henry. It did not make sense in many ways.
After catching another breath, he looked up to the sight of
the actual dead body of Riddle. He had to look away.

In some ways, that wasn't Lord Voldemort. Not really.
But it would have been, his mind supplied. It didn't really
help. Somehow, the thought that plagued his mind was different
from reality. Was there such a thing as an upset empty stomach?
Bile rose in his throat.
A child — he finally came to the decision. He had killed
a child. Tom Marvolo Riddle, yes, but still a child.

No.
He felt sick.in

He probably would have thrown up if it weren't for the
consequences of his meddling catching up at the very moment.

Henry watched with tired eyes as his hands disintegrating
slowly into dust. This was a just punishment for meddling with time
— and murder, he preferred to add. But even if he didn't accept
this fate, what could he do? He did not exist. Not anymore.
The past changed, and with that, the future. Voldemort would not
exist. He, himself, wouldn't be who he was now.
His sight started to cloud with dark spots.

The world turned black, and then he was gone.