I adore the Marauders, but their story makes me sad, so I'm going to change it. In other words, there coming back.
"Harry, kid it's me, Sirius." Sirius pleaded. "SIRIUS BLACK DIED NINE YEARS AGO, I WAS THERE, I WATCHED IT HAPPEN! IT WAS MY FALT!" The pain that these couple of sentences caused his godson was so apparent that Sirius actually reached out to put a hand on Harry's arm.
Harry, however, backed away "you still haven't answered my question. Not honestly at least. Who are you?"
All rights to the fabulous J.K. Rowling.
(This was written when I was about ten years old. It's riddled with mistakes. In all honesty, I don't have the motivation to edit this; I'd probably want to change the entire thing. That being said, this story has received a shocking amount of attention, so thank you so much for taking the time to read this.)
It has been one year after the war. Harry hasn't felt whole from the moment Sirius died. He felt it would be poetic if he died in the same place as Sirius on his birthday.
But things never went the way Harry wanted them to. They never did. He received a letter from Gringotts on his 19th birthday. He discovered quite a lot that morning. He planned to quietly end his life, but this visit to Gringotts changed his mind. He was going to go back, take Death's offer that he was offered when he was hit with the killing curse, and wreck havoc on people who made his life a misery.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter doesn't belong to me. It belongs to J.K.Rowling. I am only borrowing the characters. The story is mine.