"Why Sirius? Why does it hurt so bad?" Hestia whispered, looking up at Sirius from where she sat on the worn bed. Her eyes shone with unshed tears that she wouldn't cry. She wouldn't cry.

Sirius sighed heavily as he watched his old friend. He hesitantly sat next to her, and the bed emitted a squeak as he sat. He put a comforting arm around her shoulders, giving them a little squeeze. "I don't know, love. I just don't know."

"They were the only family I had left and I let them go. I let them go..." she whispered, her voice constricted as she felt a lump form in her throat. It was getting more difficult not to cry.

Sirius looked at her again, ignoring the tears that shone in her eyes. She hadn't cried in his presence since Dorcas' death, and he didn't know how to deal with crying ladies. "Hestia. It wasn't your fault... how were you supposed to know?"

"It was my fault," insisted Hestia, searching her mind for a good reason. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the floor. "I could have saved them... if only I... if only I-"

Thinking, thinking, thinking.

Sirius took her face between his rough and calloused hands, trying to get her to look him in the eyes. She resisted and tried to pull away. "Look at me, you couldn't have done anything. How were you to know they were going to get - look, it just wasn't your fault. It was the Death Eaters. The ruddy bastards who take joy and pleasure out of taking family away from people. Good fucking people."

"I- I just wish, I could have saved them somehow... some way," Hestia sniffed, still trying not to cry.

Sirius merely shook his head, "You didn't know. You couldn't have."

"It hurts too much... I want to get them back! I want to kill those bastards that murdered my parents," muttered Hestia.

"Then do it," Sirius said simply.

She finally let the tears fall. "Trust me, I will."