I own none of the Harry Potter characters. This story is set after Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix. During the summer. Things happen much differently.
"SIRIUS!" Harry yelled "SIRIUS!"
Sirius had just fallen through the veil, and Harry was screaming his name. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a hand and soon an arm, and then Siruis reappearing from the veil. Harry was relieved. All he could see was his Godfather. No one else mattered. He walked towards his only family, and saw a clear blue tear sliding down sirius's cheek. Harry reached up and tried to brush it away, but his hand went right through Siruis. Harry could do nothing more than cry with despair.
He awoke with a shudder. His bed was drenched in sweat. It had happened again. Harry Potter had just had another nightmare about his Godfathers death. He climbed out of bed and stumbled for his glasses. Although it was 3:13 a.m., Harry was wide awake. He had been having these nightmares since that day. That day. It had a place in his imagination now. It teased him. Taunted him. Told him it was his fault. Harry stumbled out of bed and quietly out his door. Carefully he creaked across the hallway and into the bathroom. Stepping into the bathroom, he didn't dare turn on the light. He opened the top drawer, and felt just under the counter, his fingers coming across a small metal object taped to the top. Harry unpeeled the sharp blade and put it in his pocket. Before turning, he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the mirror. The boy he saw looked nothing like the Harry Potter everyone knew. Harry himself couldn't recognize himself; he was painfully thin, his face was pale and gaunt, and he looked as if the slightest wind would topple him over. But thats not what would have scarred people, that night at 3:14 in the morning. The look in his eyes was one not only of determination, self loathing and depression. But Harry Potter's eyes held a message for only one person, himself. He wanted himself to suffer for killing his Godfather.