Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.
He had always wanted to go out with a band, with a vibrating crescendo and something resembling glory.
He had always wanted to go out with the end of the world; there was something undeniably delicious in the idea that when he died he would take everyone with him.
Though perhaps if he had known that it would end like this he might have reconsidered. But he was not a prophet, not really, and he had never liked the silence.
AN: Sirius's pov. I know...weird since he died, but I couldn't resist.