Guess what? The guy who’s name isn’t supposed to be spoken, well, he won. Now the poor little wizard boy is little more than a walking bag of bones and rotting flesh. His wand is all but useless, flipping and flopping around uselessly every time he attempts to cast a spell. All his friends are dead. The girl who grew into her body uncomfortably soon, the ginger kid, the giant guy who rarely cleaned the festering rats nest he called a beard, all of them are gone. Now the poor little wizard boy is simply wasting away. Useless and forgotten.
(How cool would it have been if the books ended like that?)