A/N for this chapter: The order isn't staying at Grimmauld Place in this story, it's just Sirius and now Harry. Also, this chapter is from Sirius' point of view.

Enjoy and please leave a review!

Chapter Four: Even the bravest of people

(Sirius' POV)

To be completely honest, Sirius black didn't know what the hell was going on.

One minute he was having a panic attack over an owl he had just received from Dumbledore stating that Harry went missing from the Dursley's and a dementor was found in Little Whinging - all on the same day. Sirius was terrified; he feared the worst for Harry. Having no contact with his godson all summer had been killing Sirius. He worried about Harry every day - the kid had been through a lot this year, especially with the loss of a close friend, and Sirius didn't know how Harry was handling it. Harry was definitely a strong, tough person - but even the bravest of people can fall in the face of tragedy and loneliness.

Sirius was kept at bay by the knowledge that any form of contact with Harry could put him and the entire Order in danger of being found by Voldemort and his cronies. But in that moment, as he read the urgent letter, Sirius was sorely regretting following Dumbledore's orders; he should be there, looking after James' kid. If anything happened to Harry, he would never be able to live with himself - neither would Remus, who had been off on an underground mission since the night of the fateful Triwizard Tournament. Sirius was about to floo to Hogwarts to speak with Dumbledore and find out what the hell was going on. Next thing he knew, Sirius was opening his front door to find his bruised and battered Godson half-dead on his doorstep.

To say that Sirius was surprised when Harry showed up would be an understatement. Sirius hadn't really known what to do or say, so he just held his godson as he sobbed, relieved that Harry was alive with his soul intact but fearful to find out the what Harry had been through to reach this state. Harry's cries were so anguished that it physically hurt to listen to them- no fifteen-year-old should be capable of making these sounds. Frankly, Sirius was scared- he had no idea what the hell had happened to the poor boy, or how Harry could have gotten himself beaten up this badly. Eventually Harry either fell asleep or passed out in his arms- probably the latter, judging by his condition. After he felt Harry finally go limp, Sirius gently picked up the boy, who was far too light for his age, and brought him up to his room and laid him on his bed, hoping to treat some of his injuries. This was where he found himself now.

Sirius was actually a pretty decent healer- he had taken classes all the way through to his seventh year at Hogwarts, and being a frequent patient of Madame Pomfrey for various reasons had taught him a thing or two along the way. He knew the basics by heart - cuts, scrapes, bruises and broken bones. Now, with his badly injured godson laying in front of him, it was time to put his skills to the test.

Sirius decided to start by cleaning Harry up so he could actually see his injuries, many of which were masked under layers of dirt and dried blood. Sirius summoned a bowl of water and a clean cloth and began to carefully wipe down Harry's face, neck and arms, trying not to aggravate his cuts too much. The more he cleaned Harry up, the more evident his cuts and bruises became. He had a black eye and bruised jaw, amongst many other scrapes and bumps. He also looked like he had taken quite a nasty fall- his hands were torn up and the front of his head was scraped badly. It was apparent that Harry had been in a fight with someone; his body was marked with bruises that only a human hand could make. This worried Sirius further - was this simply a case of neighbourhood scuffles, or was something deeper going on?

Sirius carefully peeled off Harry's wet shirt and gasped loudly at what he saw underneath. He had known that Harry was skinny, but this was beyond that. The boy was fifteen- James certainly hadn't been this skinny at his age! But then again, Harry wasn't James. His ribs were sticking out much too far to be healthy and he had no meat on his bones- Sirius would have to fix that. There was also a shocking large and swollen area on his rib cage, stark in contrast to his pale skin- Sirius suspected a broken rib or two.

No more than twenty minutes later, Harry was dressed in a clean pair of pyjamas and was mostly healed. Sirius had treated and bandaged his broken bones to the best of his ability, but suspected they would still hurt for a few days. He had healed most of his cuts and bruises with salve and a few spells. Judging by the head wound, Sirius was pretty sure that Harry had a concussion, but he would have to wait until he was awake to check for sure. Harry looked considerably better than he had before, but still appeared ill. He was far too pale and thin, and had large purple bags under his eyes. Sirius wondered when the last time Harry had slept properly was - and what was keeping him awake.

Looking down at his godson, Sirius felt guilt and shame - Harry was his charge, his responsibility, and he had let him down. He only hoped he could comfort the kid and protect him in the future.

Sirius pulled himself from his thoughts - he should let Dumbledore know that he had Harry and he was safe. He kneeled in front of the fire and fired up the floo to speak with Dumbledore. The old man answered, looking tired and anxious, and immediately started to inform Sirius of the situation.

"Sirius, I'm glad you called - I've got a team out looking for Harry, I'm pulling everyone I can together, we think we've traced him to being in a supermarket in Little Whinging early this morning -"

"Woah, woah, Albus - slow down. I have good news - I've got Harry. He's alive and safe - he'll be fine. Don't worry." Sirius spoke calmly to try to ease Dumbledore's worries.

"Oh, thank Merlin..." Albus' face immediately relaxed into relief

"Yeah, he showed up at Grimmauld place a few hours ago... I don't know what happened yet, but he was in a pretty rough state. I've mostly healed him, and he's sleeping now". Albus looked concerned.

"Sirius, I think I should send over Madame Pomfrey, just to stay with Harry for a while to make sure -"

"No, Albus. I'm a competent healer - there's nothing here I can't handle. I think Harry needs someone to trust now, someone he knows. I'll call for help if anything at all goes wrong."

"I suppose you're right" Albus agreed reluctantly. "Sirius, keep me informed if any changes. And thank you... I don't know what Harry would do without you."

After the call, Sirius walked back over to the bed where Harry lay and pulled up a chair, sitting down beside his sleeping Godson. He noted how young the boy looked when he was sleeping and you couldn't see his eyes; eyes that had seen too much in too few years, eyes too mature for their age.

Sirius couldn't say that he was looking forward to finding out exactly what had happened when Harry woke up- it looked as though it would be a grim tale. He was worried about his Godson; back in June, Harry had experienced things that no fifteen-year-old ever should. It was bound to have some effects on him- nightmares at the very least. But Harry had been sent right back to Surrey to live with his relatives, not permitted any contact with anyone outside of them. He had no access to any source of comfort, help or even information about the Wizarding World. Sirius had protested this, insisting that Harry stay with him for the summer. But Dumbledore had explained the blood wards, and assured him that he had people who would be guarding Harry from afar. So what went wrong?

Sirius didn't really know what the Dursleys were like as relatives, but he got the feeling they weren't too brilliant from things that Harry had let slip in conversation. Also, back in Harrys third year on the night Wormtail got away, Sirius had offered Harry a new home with him. The boy had jumped on the opportunity, even if he had barely known Sirius for half an hour. That was odd, in Sirius' opinion. He was beginning to fear that something deeper was going on in Harry's life.

Then there was the matter of the dementor: what was it doing in Little Whinging, around the corner from where Harry was supposed to be staying? It was highly unlikely that this was a coincidence. What if Harry had been there? What would have happened to him? Sirius shuddered; he didn't even want to think about it.

So Sirius sat and waited to get the full story from Harry once he woke up, but only if he felt up to it. Harry had obviously had a pretty rough few days, and Sirius didn't want to pressure him into explaining anything he didn't want to. For now, he would let Harry sleep and hope for some answers in the morning. Sirius settled back in his armchair and dozed off into a fitful, restless sleep.

A/N: Also, tomorrow's my birthday so I probably won't be writing. Expect another chapter by Saturday, though! Thanks for reading and please leave a review!