(Disclaimer; I recently sold my mind to JK – she was in need of my genius, hehe – so I now own nothing, full stop.)

All I have to say today is warning; this chapter contains shameless use of plot devices.

Diary,

Sirius Black's written to me! I can't think why, but it's nice to know that maybe someone remembers I'm alive. Here's the letter;

Tulah,

Hope this gets to you; I don't know your address so I'm having to rely on the owl, but he ought to find you – he takes his job very seriously.

I'm really writing to check you're ok – coping with home, and everything. I'd say come and stay here if it's as bad as you said at the ball, but things are pretty rough, mostly because my cousins have come to stay (you might recognise them actually; Bellatrix and Narcissa Black, they're in Slytherin). Anyway, my mother and father love them, and they hate me, so I'm keeping out of everyone's way.

The owl's name is Zephyr, and he'll wait for a reply if you want to write back. I assume you don't have an owl…? If you don't want to write just tell him 'no reply' and he'll go.

Hope this cheered you up a bit at least,

Sirius Black

Sirius,

Thank you for the letter; Zephyr is incredible, I don't know how he found me because our house is right out in the middle of nowhere. You're right – I don't have an owl. I thought about getting a job and saving up for one, but my parents aren't so keen on letting me out of the house at the moment.

Oh, I'd better go; my mum's coming; I can't let her see the owl. Sorry this is so short.

Tulah Page

***

Tuls,

How are you doing? I've had an ok couple of days; my family's been out a lot. Remus and James are back from holiday soon, so I'll probably go to theirs until school starts again. I'll come and get you, of course. Get your trunk packed, and any day now I'll be over there!  Sirius x

I can't apparate.

T.

Aha, but I've got a motorbike…

S xx

Bring it on! T xx

***

Dear Tuls,

Are you ok? You sounded upset in your last. Things have got worse again here – oh well, school in a month or so. Seems ages, doesn't it? My cousins have taken my owl (no idea why, since he'll only deliver for me), so I'll have to borrow my brother's to get this to you. Don't take any nonsense from him. You'll see what I mean when he gets there.

Hope he bites your mum's nose off…

Sirius xxx

Dear Sirius,

I was fine when you wrote the letter, but not so sure now – that owl is a maniac! It didn't bite mum's nose off (better luck next time) but it had a bloody good try and now I'm grounded. Not that that really means anything because I never go out anyway.

Can't you just hex your cousins? I thought you were of age now? Lucky if you are, I'm not until next July.

T xxx

That's a very good point! I know you won't believe me, but I forgot. Thanks!

S.

Sirius was amazed that she'd remembered. Apart from presents from his friends, his birthday hadn't exactly been the most celebrated event at home, and he genuinely had forgotten. Having made this reprehensible mistake, he was making up for it with all the ingenuity he possessed. His cousins could hardly turn a corner without sprouting spots, or being covered in something slimy (and preferably smelly as well).

Sirius was particularly proud of his Bat Bogey hex, which he had set up to go off whenever either of his cousins tried to enter his room. He had wanted to include Regulus in his stroke of genius, but unfortunately someone (he suspected Snape) had taught Regulus not only the counter-curse, but the spell to reverse it onto its creator as well. It had taken Sirius the best part of an afternoon to undo his brother's work; an afternoon which he would much rather have taken up working on something he was planning for Tulah.

What he didn't realise was that his brother and cousins were plotting their revenge…

Dear Tuls,

Forgive me for taking so long to answer your last – I was working on something for you, it's in the parcel attached to this letter.

It's something the Marauders have been doing for a while. You can see it looks like a stone on a chain; a necklace or whatever. Well, it's for using if you get in trouble at all. You say a name into it – it'll contact any of the rest of us, we all have one, but I think you'd better use me because I haven't told the others that I've given you one yet.

Here's the catch – first, it only works in this country, we haven't been able to figure out why, but it means I can't get hold of James or Rem on holiday, which is a bit of a bugger. Second, it only works for twelve hours at a time…but that should be long enough for me to get to you if you need me.

Better go now, or the Narc'll be wondering where I am!

Sirius xxx

Tulah slipped the silver chain around her neck with a shiver of delight at its coolness. The bluish-grey stone caught the light oddly and drew her eyes straight to it. She shoved it hastily under her top, making sure no one would notice that it was there.

"Sirius," roared his mother up the stairs. "I know you're up there! Come down here at once!"

Sirius didn't move from where he was lying face down on the bed; nor did he bother to open his eyes. Long practice had taught him that he needn't get up until he heard his mother's footsteps on the stairs.

Creak.

"Damn," he muttered, raising his face a reluctant inch off the pillow.

"Sirius?" Bellatrix's sickly-sweet voice floated up the stairs and in at the door. "Come on down; we've got a surprise for you!" Sirius suppressed a sudden and violent urge to kick the door shut and ignore her; instead, he heaved himself off the bed and trailed down, dragging his feet at every step.

He paused outside the door to the sitting room, suddenly unwilling to enter. Any surprise his cousins and brother had for him was hardly likely to be pleasant, especially after the way he had been pranking them the last few weeks. He was about to sneak back upstairs when his mother's commanding voice rang out from the other side of the door. "Sirius Black, I know you're out there! Come in at once."

Slowly, hesitantly, he pushed open the door and sidled into the room beyond. Bellatrix smiled at him, though to Sirius it looked more like a sneer. He stopped short. The whole family was there – his parents, his brother and both his cousins, all smiling that same mocking smile.

Sirius gulped.

"Look what I've just taught this lot," said his father cheerfully.

Before Sirius knew where he was, three wands had pointed at his chest, and three voices had shouted, "Crucio!"

White hot, burning agony filled his whole body to the brim and spilled over to form fireballs of pain that exploded behind his eyes; he could hear himself screaming, but he couldn't stop.

He collapsed to the floor, still shouting with pain, then passed out with blissful speed.

"Sirius?" His mother sounded only marginally more concerned than usual, but the noise still provoked the same deep-down urge to kick her. "Wake up, boy." He recognised the bite of impatience in her voice and obeyed it out of instinct.

Her face loomed above him, and he was not too surprised to see that it was filled with contempt. "Stand up," she said icily. Sirius struggled, but his legs refused stubbornly to support him. Defeated, he stayed sitting on the floor. His mother glared at him. "I said, stand up!"

"I can't," he bellowed, and then found that he could. He got to his feet and leaned on the table, hard.

"I cannot believe," his mother hissed, "That a son of mine has not even the strength to fight off the Cruciatus curse. You're pathetic."

Sirius, still fighting to stand and with his breath coming in harsh gasps, at first thought he had imagined her words. When he had gathered his senses enough to reply his voice was a dumbfounded croak. "I can't believe that you let my own family curse me and then make out that it's my fault!"

His legs were trembling; though whether out of anger or weakness he couldn't tell. He drew himself up, scraping together what was left of his pride, and said shakily, "I'm leaving."

None of his family saw fit to comment.

"I'm getting out," he continued more confidently, "And I'm not coming back."

Up in his room, he packed his trunk with one wave of his wand, grabbed Zephyr's cage and stormed down the stairs to the front door.

His mother met him there. "Do not expect to be welcomed back into this house, boy," she spat, her voice colder than he had ever heard it. "You leave forever or not at all."

"Good," Sirius retorted. "I hate it here. I've always hated it, and I always will. Everything about it…" His voice grew softer and even more full of loathing. "I hate you most of all."

"Get out!" she shrieked.

Sirius felt the usual exhilaration at having annoyed her; it cheered him up immensely. "With pleasure," he answered cheerfully. "'Bye now!"

And with that the Blacks' misfit strode out of the door, feeling better than he had for weeks.

Once he'd had time to cool off in the icy night air, he began to have misgivings. By the time he began to rev up his treasured bike, he was seriously worried. ::Where the hell am I going to go?::

That at least was easily answered; James had come back from Africa a week ago and was already urging him to spend the rest of the holidays with the Potters. Sirius would have to take him up on his offer a little earlier than had been anticipated, that was all.

He fumbled at the neck of his t-shirt to get at his necklace, keeping one eye on the road.

"James Potter."

There was a crackle and then – "Sirius? You ok?"

"Um, yeah…but I need somewhere to stay."

"You haven't left home?"

"Yuh."

"What, forever?"

"Forever," Sirius confirmed. He listened to James asking his parents' permission with a happy glow in his chest.

"Mum'd love to have you," Sirius could hear the smile in James' voice. "She also says she hopes you're not on that awful bike of yours."

"Well, I'm hardly going to walk," Sirius laughed. "James, I'd better go, I need to get in the air."

"Right."

"See you."

"'K." James severed the connection and Sirius, feeling the thrill run up his spine, jerked the bike sharply upwards and into the air.

He paused to savour his new-found freedom, and then turned slowly north towards James' house.

Dear Tuls,

I'm at James'. Something happened at home, and I've left. Hope you're ok. S.

Sirius,

You could have come and got me, too. You always promised you would.

T

Sirius was feeling guilty. He knew he could have stopped off at Tulah's house, which was the other side of the city from his, and he knew he hadn't; but he'd been so exhilarated by his freedom…it had been something in the air which swept his hair back from his face, something in the feel of the bike beneath him…anyway, he'd forgotten her. He wasn't going to deny it. And now, when he took the note from Zephyr and read it, he couldn't think of a thing to say. Guilt washed over him in the worst possible way and he dropped the piece of paper. He could hardly believe he hadn't thought of his only correspondent of the past few weeks.

::God…I'm such a bastard. Why can't I just be caring for once?::

Diary,

He hasn't written back; he didn't come to get me. He forgot me.

I'm going to forget about him.

A week later, Tulah had sunk back into the abyss of unhappiness from which Sirius' friendship had raised her up and she had already forgotten that she had once hoped to escape her home forever. As she lay on her bed staring blankly up at the ceiling she felt the familiar prickling behind her eyes. She closed them, but it was too late; two fat tears squeezed out and trickled down her cheeks.

"Tulah! Get down here now, you little freak," bellowed her father up the stairs. Tulah obeyed at once, apprehension fluttering in her stomach. Her father gestured to some broken crockery piled on the floor. "Is this anything to do with you?" he hissed. "Because it just flew off the shelf onto the floor by itself. How d'you think it could possibly have done that?"

He advanced towards her; Tulah backed away until she hit the far wall. She thought quickly; it must have been her fault but she'd thought – no, hoped – that she'd stopped doing things by accident ages ago. She stood her ground tremulously. Her father would shout at her, she would probably cry…but then it would all be over and she could return to the solitude of her room which was all she wanted…

…so it came a total shock when his fist slammed into the side of her face. Tulah let out a shriek of fear and disbelief. The next blow knocked her to the ground, and while she struggled to get to her feet her father bent down and grabbed a particularly jagged piece of the broken china at his feet. An odd glint came into his eye as he brandished it. Tulah, only just managing to stand, almost fell again when she saw what he held in his hand. The first slash landed just above her eye – she screamed once as a line of pain seared across her forehead, then again with shock at the blood which ran down into her eyes, obscuring her vision.

The next time she was ready. She turned to the side, but not enough; the china plate gashed her shoulder and came away, a new layer of blood filming its pristine whiteness. Tulah cried out again; the panic seeping through into her brain was slowly conquering her senses. Her father abandoned the plate in preference of his fists; she curled up in a tight ball to protect herself, feeling the movement open the cut on her shoulder even wider. As the blows thundered down, unconsciousness began to descend on her.

She fumbled frantically at the neckline of her shirt, willing the pendant to be there…::Please don't have fallen off…please…::

She had it. Even the feel of the stone, cool in her hot hand, calmed her and soothed the pain. Her breathing eased fractionally. Her father was still hitting her but the shock of his rage seemed to have faded.

She relaxed, readying herself. ::One…two…three…:: "SIRIUS BLACK!" she screamed into the stone.

"Wh-what?" her father stuttered. He stopped the beating, falling back a few steps. At the same time Sirius' voice crackled out from the stone in her hand.

"Tulah? Is that you? Are you ok?"

With a superhuman effort she dragged herself to her feet and made for the stairs, one arm hanging uselessly at her side, her whole body consumed with the agony of trying to reach her room…her room, with the lock on the door…

"Tulah? Talk to me!"

She slammed the door and locked it behind her. Her father's hand smashed into the other side. She forced herself to ignore him, and instead raised the pendant to her mouth with a trembling hand.

"S-Sirius?"

"Tulah? Shit, what's happened? You sound terrible!"

"I...I…" She couldn't get the words out; everything that had just happened was running through her head like a video on a loop, clouding her thoughts.

"Come on," Sirius urged. "I need you to tell me what's wrong," he carried on, his voice calming.

Tulah took a deep breath, trying to arrange her confused feelings into something resembling words. "My-my dad…" she began. Her voice was shaking uncontrollably. She stopped again, but Sirius had already understood.

"Shit...Tuls, he hasn't hit you?"

"You could say that." There was bitter laughter in her words.

Sirius needed to know no more. "I'm coming to get you."

They were the most welcome words she had ever heard. Her breathing had just started to ease when there was another ear-splitting thump on the door from her father. "I know you're in there!" he roared. "Get out here!"

"Is your dad still there?" Sirius queried.

"Yeah," Tulah whispered. "He's outside."

"Ok, don't worry." Sirius was having a hard time keeping the anxiety out of his own voice. "I'll come for you on the bike…I can be there in an hour, if I'm quick."

Tulah was still panicked. "Don't cut out," she begged.

"Ok…I'll stay with you…just let me get James."

The sound of his voice as he explained the situation to James made her sleepy for some reason…she curled up on her bed, closed her eyes and let the mist invade her brain once more.

"Can't you apparate?" James asked. "It'd be a lot quicker."

"I could…" Sirius weighed up the options. "…but how could I get her back? She hasn't got her test, and even if she had she's in no condition to apparate anywhere, let alone all the way here."

"You could take her with you…?" James suggested, knowing it was impossible.

"I wouldn't make it," Sirius confirmed. "Too far, and too much weight."

(A/N; Umm…I kind of made up this thing, that they can't apparate with too much weight or they collapse or whatever... anyway, it fits with the plot.J)

He came to a decision. "I'll apparate, check she's ok. You take the bike and pick us up."

"'K."

Sirius picked up his pendant again. "Tuls? You there?"

Silence greeted his concerned inquiry. Fear tightening in his chest, he called her name again. "Tulah! Come on Tuls…don't do this to me…shit. Shit!"

Brown eyes met hazel. "Go," James urged, and found he was speaking to an empty room.

Sirius appeared in Tulah's bedroom with a loud crack accompanied by an equally loud expletive.

When he saw her lying on the bed he breathed a sigh of relief…until he caught sight of the blood. It stained the sheet in crimson circles, spreading out from a deep gash in her left arm. Her face was turned away from him.

Panic once more settling over him in suffocating clouds, he grabbed her shoulders and rolled her onto her back. Her face was covered in blood, dried and darkened. It was caked in her right eye socket, and it was still oozing from another cut just above her eyebrow.

::Ok Sirius…calm down…it looks worse than it is.::

"Tuls?"

::Come on…come on…wake up…:: His breathing was growing irregular.

"Tulah! Come on!" He shook her, harder than he'd intended.

There was a bang outside the door of the room. "Who's in there?" came an angry voice. "How the hell did you get in?"

Sirius froze. There was another crash, and the door shifted an inch or so on its hinges. Sirius swallowed hard. Tulah wasn't waking up, and her father was going to be in any minute. There was only one thing to do.

He picked up his pendant. "James? Don't bring the bike."

He scooped her prone form into his arms and vanished with another thunderous crack.