Author's Note: A huge thank you once again to everyone who reviewed/alerted/favorited. The support is awesome! Here's another chapter. I hope you enjoy, and please review!!

Sirius started moving towards the front door, not at all concerned about stealth or sneakiness. Then again, being quiet and stealthy took a certain amount of strength and control over one's muscles—something that Sirius didn't have in his weakened state. Before he could give away their position, Harry and Ron stopped him.

"Wait. We can't just go in through the front door. There's only three of us, and if they know we're coming they'll kill Hermione," Harry whispered urgently. "Ron, you check around the back of the house. Look in any windows, see what you can see."

"We've got to hurry. If they have Hermione, God only knows that they've done to her already. We don't have time to be cautious," Sirius answered. Ron was gone before the objection was completely out of his mouth, as was Harry. He sighed in frustration.

Harry and Ron had never seen firsthand the immense cruelty that the Death Eaters could inflict upon a person. They had never seen Frank and Alice Longbottom after what his cousin had done to them. They had never seen the perfect way that a Death Eater could peel a person's skin away or open their ribcage so that they still had to suffer for hours or days until they finally died. They may have been aurors now, but they had the luxury of being too young to remember the true dark ages. They had never seen empty eyes without the spark of life in a still-breathing human being. The idea of Hermione being like that didn't sit well with him. She was always so alive, such a bright spark of know-it-all attitude. No, he wasn't going to let her become another unresponsive patient in St. Mungo's.

"They're in a room in the middle of the house. No windows. Just one entrance, but the door is open. I could see Yaxley and Dolohov through the open door, but I couldn't see anyone else. I didn't see Hermione. Did you see anything?" Ron said quietly.

"I didn't see anything in the front except a broken window. We can slip in quietly that way. You take Yaxley, I'll take Dolohov. Sirius, you get Hermione and get out. We'll meet you back at headquarters," Harry directed, his voice calm and authoritative.

"And what if you need help? If I'm back at the house, I can't help you," Sirius protested.

"And if you get yourself killed, you can't help us or Hermione, who needs it more than all of us. Once you've got her, we're all getting out. Can you get her?"

Sirius nodded. Harry went in first through the window, then Sirius with Ron bringing up the rear. They crept silently down the halls, walking lightly on the balls of their feet. They stopped down the hallways from the room, all looking at each other for confirmation that they were ready to go on. Sirius couldn't help the grim grin on his face. Adrenaline was tearing through his veins, his heart pounding, itching for a fight. Harry asked the question with his expression. Are you ready? Sirius nodded.

Then, they quickly made their way down the hall and tore into the room, wands blazing. Hermione was lying in the corner, her small feet were bare and bleeding, her hair tangled and fallen in her face. Her bloodstained clothes were torn or missing, revealing more bruises. They were everywhere, all varying shades of blue-black and yellow-green. She was completely motionless, not even responding to the noise of the fight going on around her. He made his way to her as quickly as he could, dodging curses and hexes along the way.

She wasn't moving, but there was still pain—stabbing, blinding, white-hot pain. She wanted to run from the pain, to get as far away from it as possible, but she couldn't make her legs move. She couldn't make anything move. She called for help in her head, but no one came. The only thing she could do was lie still and breathe and try to think of something other than how much she hurt. She couldn't even open her eyes.

Someone was shaking her. No, she wasn't going to open her eyes. She wasn't going to look at them anymore. It hurt to see the emptiness in his eyes and to know that he was getting pleasure out of her pain. It hurt her to know that any human being was capable of hurting another the way that she had been hurt. But she had to look at him. She couldn't give him the pleasure of thinking that he had broken her. So she forced her eyes open for what she hoped would be the last time.

A face swam in and out of focus above her. When her vision cleared, the first thing she noticed were his eyes. Deep-set black eyes that had seen all the emotions of the world. These eyes had seen everything—from the most priceless joys to the deepest despairs. She see lines around the eyes—they had laughed. She knew those eyes. They could only belong to one person.

"Sirius?" she whispered through cracked lips. He smiled gently at her. Help. Help had come. She had been hoping for Harry or Ron—someone who could save her life. Even as she had braced herself for death, told herself that it was the next adventure, she had hoped to live. But at least this way the pain would stop. And she could see Remus again. And Tonks and Fred. She'd probably get along famously with Lily… "Are going to take me away?"

"Yeah," he answered, sliding his hands under her, lifting her gently into his arms. She pulled away from him violently, which was the most movement he had seen out of her since he set foot in the room. However, it wasn't a good sign. Between the torn clothes and the skirt hiked up around her waist, he knew what had happened to her, and he felt his blood begin to boil. But then she spoke, and he felt his heart break for her, for the pain she'd been through. The pain that was so similar to that which he had experienced so recently.

"Does this mean the pain will stop?" she asked, relief in her voice. Sirius was here for her. He was going to take her away from the pain. She could see lights behind him—beautiful flashes of light. Yes, the pain was going to stop. She relaxed in his arms and let herself feel safe. She let herself be comforted by his nearness. Sirius wouldn't hurt her.

"Yes. I'm going to take you away from the pain." She smiled when she heard his answer. It was reassuring. It made giving in to the darkness just a little bit easier.

"Does this mean I can rest now?"

"Soon," he said. "Soon you'll be able to rest. The pain will stop and you can rest."

"Sirius…I called for help, and you came. You came for me." Tears of relief were trickling down her cheeks. She won. She didn't tell them anything—even if they had never asked any question. She had won.

"Well, we couldn't just leave you here. Now hang on. This could be a bit rough," he told her. He turned towards the wall, shielding her from a curse with his body. She was too out of it to notice that they were curses flying around her. Instead, she closed her eyes and reveled in the feel of being safe in Sirius's arms. He was taking her away.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, desperate to know of something of where she was going. Sirius broke the threshold of the room where she had been held, taking her out into the hallway and away from the flying curses. He heard Harry cry out, and had to check the urge to run and help his godson. But if he did that, he would be putting Hermione in danger, and there was no way she could fend for herself. She would be as good as dead if he left her alone.

"Someplace safe. Somewhere where no one will hurt you anymore. You'll be safe there."

"You promise?" she asked, closing her eyes.

"I promise. But you can't go back to sleep. You can't close your eyes. You have to stay awake, okay? Can you do that for me?" His voice was pleading, begging her to stay awake. He knew that she was in pain, God knows he knew. He had been in that kind of pain for the past—he wasn't even sure how long he had been gone. So he knew just how much she wanted to close her eyes and slip away. But he wasn't going to let her.

"Why? I just want to let go—"

"I know you do. But Harry and Ron would be really upset with me if I let you go."

"W-what?" she gasped, realizing for the first time that maybe Sirius wasn't the angel of death. "Harry and Ron?"

"They're in there fighting for you, trying to get you free. We're going to get you back to Grimmauld Place and patch you up. I promise."

"I-I thought you had…I thought I was dy—"

"Shhh. Don't even say that. You're not dying on my watch. Now hold on tight, okay? This is the first time I've apparated in a while," Sirius told her with a grin. She felt the strange sensation that comes with apparating—made stronger and more painful by her current injuries—and then they were on the front step of Sirius's house. He pushed open the front door and set her down gently on the sofa. As soon as he put her down, she wanted to be in his arms again. She was safe there.

"You're back?"

"I'm really back. I'm not going far; I'm just going to go get you a glass of water. I'll be right back," he explained, trying to reassure her that he wasn't going to leave her there alone again. She nodded weakly and closed her eyes. "No, Hermione. You've got to keep those eyes open. Just until we can get you looked at, okay?"

"But I'm so tired…"

"Stay awake just a little bit longer," he called from the kitchen. He quickly returned with a glass of water, only to find that she couldn't hold it. Her fingernails were gone, replaced with torn, bloody flesh. Gently, he propped her up so that she could take a sip of water. Despite his attempt at gentleness, he was still clumsy—a result of his weakened state—and she cried out in pain. Guilt tore through him at causing her any further pain. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault…you didn't do this to me."

"No, but…I'm sorry you had to go through it. Is there anything else you need me to do?"s

"No…I would like a bath, but…maybe later. I'm too tired." She was barely able to force the words past her lips. The darkness was calling her, and she very much wanted to give in, to let herself go. But Sirius was right there. He had worked so hard to get her out. He had saved her, kept her alive, and she wasn't going to let him down now.

"Sirius?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you…will you hold me?" she asked. Her voice sounded so small and so unsure, something that he had never imagined he would have heard from her. But that's how it was. She needed comfort, and he couldn't deny her that. Not when he knew what it was to need that same comfort. So instead, he climbed onto the couch and pulled her gently into his arms. Again, he didn't miss her cry of pain, but her sigh of relief when he slid his arms around her was enough to bring lessen his frown to a grim, straight expression.

"You're going to be okay," he said, running his fingers gently over her matted hair. She nodded numbly, and they sat there in silence for several long moments, waiting for Harry and Ron to arrive. Finally, she couldn't stand the silence any longer.

"You know…they never even asked me any questions," she whispered, tears sliding down her cheeks. "Not a single one."

Sirius clenched his jaw tightly, biting back curses. "Well, they won't have that chance anymore. Not anymore. You're safe now."