He was there.

And as she stared at him, teal and grey eyes drinking each other, she couldn't feel the joy she once did, nor the surprise she should've felt after rescuing him. She couldn't laugh or cry. The only thing she was able to feel in that moment was cold. That frost that doesn't come from the outside, but from the loneliness and pain she felt inside.

Not saying anything, she started running again, and as she grabbed his hand, though rough and cold itself, she felt only a little bit of warmth. He was finally there and she could touch him. He was alive and soon enough free. She pulled him after her, and unlike before, he left his feet weakly follow her, without question.

Even though their steps were the only thing to be heard in that part of Azkaban, none of them said anything. But they knew – they knew they were both scared, both suffering, both wintry. So they held tighter to each other's hand, as tight as they could, and didn't care about the pain in their feet, or the fact that they were losing their now synchronized breaths.

He wondered if she knew where she was heading to, but she never hesitated in taking a single step, like she had the entire labyrinth of stone and cement halls memorized by heart. And she did. The once reckless and careless Amara Moody was now most precise and punctual, like a machine. Her eyes wandered all around, her wand in her hand, ready to attack. No trembling hands, no trace of doubt in her eyes. None of them had any idea what was coming next, but whatever it was, she was ready.

They were still running when the cold intensified and the air filled with fear even more. Before them stood now three cloak-covered creatures, spreading a sensation of such helplessness that it almost felt unbearable. Sirius Black held still and felt his knees running out of strength as his whole body seemed to weaken even more under the effect of such presence. He couldn't remember how he got there or where he was heading to, nor did he need to, since the simple thought of moving his legs seemed impossible. His eyes stopped blinking.

And then he saw it – the hope he lost months ago, materializing right in front of him in the shape of a silver dog-looking light, coming from the tip of Amara's wand. He took a quick look at her, for the first time since she got here; her face was full of mud and blood, with pieces of purple hair soaked with sweat getting into her mouth and eyes. Even though she looked nothing like the girl he saw before he got imprisoned, not even her expression resembling the girl he used to know, his eyes still shone in a way they only did for her.

He heard only a shadow of her voice saying the spell before she started running again, her hand still tied to his. But Amara didn't allow herself to look at him, not even for a second, as she knew that no matter how strong her happy memories were, they couldn't cope with the image of the Sirius Black she was now rescuing – the one that lived in the body of her old lover, using his memories, but replacing his usual smirk with a year and a half of guiltless imprisonment imprinted on his face.

She had to admit that no matter how much she trusted his bravery and will, she also knew that now he'd be changed. And she could fight dementors and aurors and Death Eaters all at once and she would've been ready, but she would never be prepared for THAT.

Amara grabbed Sirius' hand tighter, only to reassure herself that he was still there, and even though his fingers were now weakened, she held them strong enough for both of them. And as he kept looking at the purple of her hair, he wasn't afraid anymore, so his eyes didn't move until he saw the ray of light coming from the distance, and realized that the light was where they were heading to.

His hands started getting sweaty and his breath hardened, but still moved on, following her through the dark. He wanted to take a look at her eyes, but he didn't. They kept on running until his body hit the ground and he moved no more.