Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or anything of J K Rowling. The plots however are all mine. X X X

Hermione needed space, having been confined in the dungeons at Malfoy Manor kept as a prisoner and now at Grimmauld Place for her own protection it was all beginning to get a bit overwhelming. After the horrific events that transpired whilst incarcerated, Hermione had found that she was unable to really come to terms with everything, what with the constant work to be done, the non-stop fighting, people coming and going. People. The incessant chatter that filled her head until she thought it would explode. People often mistook her demeanour as melancholy and tried their hardest to cheer up the poor girl up. Harry and Ron barely leaving her side, Molly Weasley fussing over her relentlessly. She just wanted some peace and quiet were she could just let go, cry until there was no more tears to be shed.

When the opportunity arose she grasped it with both hands and fled to the serenity of the library. Falling onto the settee, she screamed out all her frustrations into one of the scattered musky cushions. Crawling onto her side she curled up into a ball and let the tears flow. Sobbing uncontrollably she failed to hear the soft footsteps enter the room. Through her tears she failed to see the kind and gentle face that appeared before her. Kneeling so that he was eye level with Hermione, he brushed her tears from her cheek. This young woman, who had seemed so strong and beautiful now lay on his settee broken. The scene before him was enough to tear at his heart strings. Broken but so strong, She'll mend. She has to. He thought to himself. Hermione jumped up at the feel of his hand on her check.

''Sirius, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in the order meeting with the others?'' She said shakily raising from the couch and standing before the mantel place, her back turned from him, in order to try and regain some of her composure. For a moment all was silent. Perhaps he has gone? She thought turning around she was faced with a broad toned chest.

''You're beautiful when you cry.'' He stood a whole foot taller than her, his voice was soft. Looking up at him she scowled.

''Please don't call me beautiful. I can't stand it.'' She felt a rush of anger run through her veins. How dare he? Beautiful, my arse! ''How can I be beautiful when I have nothing left? No family, money, looks, memory. I have nothing to offer, they took everything from me!!'' Her head was spinning. Moving to leave she felt a hand gently take hold of hers.

''Don't go. Please stay.'' His voice was calm but with a pinch of desperation deep inside it, which made her stop dead in her tracks. Tugging on her hand, he pulled her back over to the settee. "Please just sit with me?" Hermione nodded silently and sat down next to him. The settee was small and their legs brushed, the contact making her flinch. They'd taken away her innocence, her confidence, her ease around the opposite sex. Those bastard rapists of Death Eaters had taken everything from her. How she wanted them to pay. It was awhile before either of them spoke.

"Being broken can be beautiful." Sirius whispered taking her hand and holding onto it tightly, so she could not snatch it away. She made to move again but Sirius was stronger and held her in place. "Please just listen. I know you feel they have taken everything away from you, but they haven't your still here. Alive and your health is getting better everyday. You still have your friends and your life in front of you. I know it doesn't quite feel like that at the moment, but your stronger than you think 'Mione. I know you have the strength to overcome everything and anything that comes your way. They haven't broken you yet." Hermione let the sob that was building in her chest tear through her. Her body shuddering violently as she cried.

"If this is me whole, break me. Break me in two- please, do it. I can't stand to be whole anymore Sirius." Hermione sobbed. Sirius looked at the young women before him. Oh Hermione if only I could. He drew her up into his arms and held her, brushing her tears away, soothing her until her sobs ceased and all that could be heard was the laboured breathing of a sleeping angel. His broken angel. His wife.