Harry Potter:

We have a winner!!! [Citrine]

[Amanar] Yay, killing Harry! Dedicated to Ambaron:

Harry walked towards Lord Voldemort. It is the final battle. Seven years in the Wizarding World have prepared him for this moment - the moment the prophecy comes true. "Either must die by the hand of the other..." The one sentence he has been thinking of ceaselessly tonight.
  Harry's scar felt likely to tear open at any moment, and with the pain rose all his hatred for the wizard in front of him. All the people Harry lost; His parents. Sirius. Ron. Hedwig - all the loved ones that Voldemort killed. Harry's eyes narrowed as he caught the sneer on Voldemort's snake-like, too familiar face, those brilliantly red eyes.
  They stepped closer to each other, raising wands as they go... a flicker of a bow (the niceties must be observed)... then suddenly a huge shadow appeared overhead. Harry looked up, and next thing he knew he and the Dark Lord were in each other's arms, bound by terror, the same thought passing through both arch-enemies' minds - this is the end!

With a funny squelching noise Monty Python's huge foot came down upon them both, and they knew no more.

[LoL, mate] When Harry woke up, the next morning, he wasn't in his room at the Dursley's house, he wasn't either in his bed at the Hogwarts' Griffindor dorm. Actually, he was in a similar place as the Chamber of Secrets. Surprised, he tried to get up. He couldn't. He was sangled (tied) to a big peculiar piece of plywood. The reason it was peculiar was because nails were sticking out of it, and Harry's back just sank into them. He felt a cool stream rush down his back. Then he realized he was wounded. He started to cry out for help. But he was alone, and he knew it. Discouraged, he just leaned back down, the nails getting deeper into his flesh by the second. He was waiting for Death to come, but I wouldn't let him get away so easily. I jumped out of the shadows, very proud of my Forbidden spell that led him here. But I decided that magic wouldn't be fair enough, not cruel enough. I had to do it myself. So I dropped my wand and smirked. Mustling all the strenght he had left, he said:'Oh, not you!' with pain. I just smiled even more. Beside Saint Potter's 'bed' was a small table, and on it was an thick iron glove with claws at the end of each finger. I put it on, then took some earplugs. At the moment I was going to put them on, I told myself I definetly wanted to hear his last wails, cries of sufferance. So I approached Scar-faced Potter with the glove and set it on one extremity of his stomach. Then, quite slowly and powerfully, I drew it to the other side, opening his stomach. I delighted in the cries of sufferance and the supplications that followed. I could see some of his internal organs, and I poked at them. A huge pool of blood gushed out of him. A big bubble of blood exploaded, soaking me with my victim's life. The ragdoll continued moaning and crying, lowder and lowder as I started my pleasure and his torture all over again, cutting at the level of the heart. I could see it beating weakly. Soon it would stop, and so would my fun, but for the instant, his fate rested in my clawed-glove. So I tore it open. His scream continued for half a second, then it was quiet again. He had supplied me with 3 hours of delightedpleasure, cruel insanity, or whatever. But I had enjoyed myself more than ever after I had met Saint Potter. All that because of him! I was pretty grateful, so I wrote 'Thanks' on what was left on him with my glove. As I climbed up the stairs, heading for lunch, I saw Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, searching for their long-gone buddy. Weasley pointed his wand at me, saying if I ever touched Saint Potter, I would pay for it. Hermione asked if I had seen him. I smirked at her and told her he was waiting for them in the lowest dungeon. She thanked me, and the both of them left towards that direction. When they would find him, they'd probably faint. I had been careful to poke a large hole through him and nail him on the wall, as a nice decoration. His face was still screaming in pain when he died. I would have love d to see their reactions when they'd find him, but I was too hungry to follow them, and besides, I had other murders to planify. For example, Hermione Granger. Weasley would be next. And this is the story of how I, Draco Malefoy killed the Saint Scar-faced Harry Potter, the Half Mud-Blood, the guy raised by Muggles that didn't know anything, the most annoying human I knew. He was dead and I was happy. Everything was great, at last.
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[Citrine]
I held up the small, white-wax candle, and his green eyes flashed in the reflection. With one finger, Harry pushed up his slipping glasses, and with the other, he fumbled in his bag for something. :"I still don't know why you want it..." he muttered, reaching around inside it. I gave him a thin smile.
"Don't worry Harry, it's important," I assured him. He caught his breath, looking up from his bag.
"Listen, Cho..."
I put a finger to his lips, still smiling, "Sh... it's okay Harry, could you get it, please?"
Even by the light of the candle I could see him blushing. From his bag, Harry brought out a small knife, hardly bigger than my pinkie. I set the candle down on the floor, so that the shadows played around our faces. (He was still blushing terribly). Palming the knife, I leaned forward with my free hand and slipped his glasses off. With a tinkling, they felll to the floor. Harry made to pick them up, but I stepped forward, pressing him towards the wall. I leaned in slowly, levelling my mouth with his. We were a foot apart... an inch, a centimeter...
With a quick jab I sunk the knife into the center of his stomach.
He didn't even cry out, just made a soft grunt, and slid down the wall. I stood over him, then squatted to his level. His green eyes were glazing over, and his mouth moved wordlessly.
"Couldn't you tell, Harry, that anyone who liked you must be working for Voldemort?" A real smile curled my lips, "This might not fulfill the prophecy," I continued, slowly ripping off his fingernails, "but it is very nice to see you suffering." The tips of his fingers gushed blood as I tore off his nails, and Harry's face contorted. Smiling even more largely, I lifted the candle and tilted it, letting the hot wax drip into the open wounds. Harry's mouth dropped open, and he let out a strangled groan. He twisted away from me, and the knife ripped open his stomach as he moved. His organs spilled out onto the floor, and the sour stench of his stomach acid filled the room. His eyes dilated, the green irises were engulfed by the black pupil. and his legs slowly dissolved in his own stomach acids.
I stood up and dusted off my hands, dropping the lit candle into the hole in his stomach. Walking out, I made a point to smash his glasses under foot.

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[Gone4Eva] ok this is going to be a simple one
"Harry you know i dont like you that way! and please put your dick back in your pants" yells Ron
"Oh please, please, please suck my dick Ron, you know you will like it." pleaded Harry
"I will never." ron pulled out a knive a cut off harrys dick (wich is kind of ironic because harry's dick wasnt that harry.), and harry blead to his early death.

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Jumping off to The Official Celebrity Killing Contests!