Disclaimer - No, definitely not mine.

Chapter Eight

Sirius lay in his bed, unmoving. He didn't have the energy to do anything else. With a distinct lack of curiosity his eyes followed the meandering progress of a spider across the dingy, off-white ceiling. He had no idea how long he'd slept for. It could have been hours or, for all he could tell, days. Whichever it was, at some point night must have fallen. Heavy shadows gathered in his room, their oppression lessened only barely by the distant glow of a muggle streetlight.

He was alone in his room.

If not for the slightly bloodstained bandages that covered several large areas of his body, and the small fire that burned in the hearth, he would have wondered whether maybe he had imagined Tibby, as he had imagined Remus and James; would have wondered whether maybe she had been merely another sick hallucination… But the bandages, and the fire, gave a solid testament to her reality. Which meant that his father's brief return visit to his room had also probably been real, and the man's 'new orders' for the house-elf.

Sirius groaned, letting his eyes drift back closed. There wasn't a single area of his body that didn't hurt, not to mention his complete lack of energy - but at least now his mind was clearer. At least now he could start thinking of a way to get out… a way of getting back to Hogwarts…

Back to Hogwarts. Back to a place where everyone hated him.

With a sudden determined surge he pushed himself upright, his bed-sheets falling to his waist at the movement. As hellish as he felt he wasn't going to get far if he couldn't even get out of bed! He immediately regretted this resolve however. His head swam, darkness clouding his vision, and for a moment he thought he was going to collapse right back into a heap as his body shrieked it's protest. Maybe this hadn't actually been the wisest of courses. He shuffled back until his back rested against his pillows, his head lolling back against the wall, and he drew in several deep breaths as he waited for the worst of the pain to recede.

"Ah, Master Sirius is awake!"

He almost leapt in shock as the squeaky voice sounded from the doorway. His eyes flashed open to fix on the house-elf's diminutive form. He smiled a rather shaky greeting.

"Hey Tibs."

The house-elf entered the room, nudging the door closed behind her. Her arms were piled full of rolls of crisp white fabric. "Tibby's got to change your bandages, Master Sirius," she said, dumping her load by his feet

"Um…"

"Just sit back, Master Sirius. Let Tibby get on with it."

He leant back against his pillows as ordered, but peered curiously down now as she carefully began to soak the bandages off his shoulder. Practically every visible inch his of skin was covered in bruises, a mottled covering of purple and green, interspersed with angry red tears. He was fairly clean now, as was his bed - Tibby's doing, he assumed - though a few smudges of dried blood still stained his torso. A moment later he found himself transfixed by the sight of the grisly wound as it was slowly revealed.

No bloody wonder it hurt so fucking much!

From the front it wasn't so bad, a small tear was all that was obvious. It was when he twisted his head slightly that the worst could be seen. The gas lamp, he remembered. That was what had caused this. He'd hit the gas lamp and it had torn right through his shoulder - and back out again - shattering his collarbone on its way. It was beginning to heal now, though blood continued to seep from beneath the scabs, trickling down over the raw, angry skin surrounding it. He lifted his good hand to tentatively touch the jagged wound.

"Move your hand, Master Sirius," Tibby's voice ordered. "Tibby needs to fix that."

Sirius glanced guiltily over at the house-elf as he shifted his hand away from the gash. He had almost forgotten that she was still there.

"Tibs…"

"Ssh, Master Sirius. Let Tibby work."

Her long, knobbly fingers prodded at his torn flesh, causing his breath to escape him in a hiss of pain. She frowned. A moment later he felt a cool sensation flowing through his shoulder, easing away the discomfort. The sides of the gash grew paler, losing their furious red taint, and slowly began to knit themselves together. The bleeding stopped completely.

His eyes fixed on Tibby's face as he caught her hand in his. She had healed him like this before now, more times than he cared to admit to. He knew how easily she could heal every wound on his body. He also knew, however, what would happen to her if she did.

"Thank you," he said, when her large eyes met his, "but don't be getting yourself into trouble for my sake."

"He told me not to let you die, Master Sirius," she said stubbornly. "I'm not going to let that get infected just because he also told me not to heal you! Besides… I haven't healed it completely…"

"Please be careful, Tibs. If he finds out…"

"Tibby doesn't like this, Master Sirius. Tibby doesn't like this at all!"

"I know, Tibs, but… He wouldn't hesitate in carrying through his threat. I'm sure you know that as well as me."

"Yes, Master Sirius. Tibby knows." But she avoided his eyes as she rebound the wound.

Next came his lower arm. He didn't want to think about that… It was nothing except painful, and, despite that cool, tingling flow of house-elf magic, there was little that she could do to stop it being so. He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth and forcing his mind to dwell elsewhere as she tied his arm up into a sling. Ointment was then slathered onto bruises and cuts were cleaned with a nastily stinging solution before she moved on to re-bandaging his ribs - several of which, she said, had possibly been broken by his mother's kicks.

It was only when the elf removed the blanket that still covered his legs and he felt the movement of air against bare flesh, that he realised just how little he was actually wearing. He had known of course that his T-shirt had at some point been removed. Now he realised that his jeans too had been, leaving him dressed in only his underwear. He snatched the blanket back up, his cheeks going suddenly hot.

"Don't be silly, Master Sirius! Tibby needs to see to your leg." She continued muttering to herself as she pulled the blanket back down, "It's not as if she hasn't seen it all before."

Sirius' embarrassment was completely forgotten a moment later, however, as the house-elf began to carefully remove another bloodstained bandage, this time stretching down his left thigh. He frowned, gazing in bleary fascination at the long gash that was revealed, curving down from groin to knee. It was deep at the top and gradually became shallower as it neared its end.

He didn't remember getting that one… The one on his shoulder he remembered. But this one… No. No, he didn't remember. It wasn't really surprising, he supposed. After all, he had been barely conscious for the majority of the time. Lack of consciousness on his part hadn't stopped his father, had it? Between that and the shoulder wound he must have lost far too much blood - his complete lack of energy wasn't really all that surprising when he thought about it.

Here again he felt her magic, saw it speeding the healing processes, but he didn't bother protesting. As much as he disliked it, he knew that there was no point. He had learnt many years ago that when she got an idea into her head there was little chance of ever changing her mind.

She was just finishing wrapping the fresh bandage around his leg when her head suddenly lifted, her small form frozen, her large ears turned slightly towards a distant sound. A flash of fear showed in her eyes. It was a look that Sirius knew well. His mother had summoned her.

"You'd better go," he told her.

"Tibby will be back later, Master Sirius."

"I know. Go."

She went, leaving Sirius alone again. He sank back onto his pillows with a pained sigh. He didn't like being alone - it left him with nothing to distract his mind from the unpleasant avenues down which it seemed determined to drift. At least when Tibby was with him he could find something with which to occupy his mind.

But… what if she didn't return? What if his mother had found out that Tibby had been healing him? What if… No! There was no way she could know. He was just being paranoid. Tibs would be back. She would be. He didn't know what he'd do if she didn't. That was something he didn't really want to think about. He sighed, lifting his eyes to the ceiling, automatically searching for the spider he'd been watching earlier. It was gone. It had gotten out of here - and soon he would to.

As desperate as he was, though, to escape from Grimmauld place, the thought of returning to Hogwarts… He couldn't help it. It scared him. No matter which way he turned he was faced with anger. All of his friends hated him now. And he deserved it. There was no doubt about that. If he had actually thought for once in his life, had stopped for a minute before leaping in, they wouldn't feel like that. If only he had thought…

The only good thing to have come out of any of his recent actions was that at least he'd managed to stop his father's work with Voldemort - even if it had landed him in a far worse situation than any he had previously encountered. His father's reaction… it was… it was hideous, but he would get away from him soon. With Tibby's help he was sure he would. He just had to. When he did he would tell Dumbledore everything… and, you never know, his friends might think a little better of him for it…

He didn't even want to consider the possibility that he might not get away.

He was doing it again. Thinking about things that he didn't want to be. With a determined growl he rose to his feet, his good hand grasping at a shelf for support, his weight as much as possible on his right leg, and he began to limp stubbornly towards the exit.

It was then that Tibby reappeared in the doorway, a tray, piled high with food, in her hands.

"Master Sirius," she exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock. "Where is you going?" She quickly moved inside the room and placed the tray on his desk.

Sirius halted, leaning heavily against the wall. He wasn't entirely certain how he'd made it as far as he had, but he wasn't going to stop now. "To the bathroom, Tibs," he answered, exasperation he hadn't intended to show clear in his voice. "I need to use the bathroom."

If she noticed his tone she didn't mention it. "Master Sirius… I'm not sure that's…" she said as he doggedly took the last few steps.

He was barely even a pace past the doorframe when a sudden bright light flared around him. Before he even had a chance to react he felt snake-like tendrils of energy twining around him, holding his still. His breath caught in his throat as panic fluttered in his chest, and he began to struggle, but the bonds merely drew tighter. A cry was torn from him as they pressed against his damaged arm.

Hands grabbed tight hold of him, tugging him back. With almost palpable reluctance the bindings released their hold and Sirius toppled backwards, back into his room. He found himself lying in a trembling heap in Tibby's gentle arms.

"…Wise," she finished. "He's spelled the doorway, Master Sirius."

"I…" He halted, fighting to steady his ragged breathing. "So I see."

"Everyone else can get in and out. Tibby can get in and out. Only you, Master Sirius, activate it."

"I should have guessed."

"Tibby should have told you."

"I still need to use the bathroom, you know?"

She helped him back to his feet, supporting more of his weight than was probably good for her as he made his way back to his bed. Then, with a small smile, she produced an old, chipped chamber pot.

"Lovely."

"Tibby won't look," she assured him with a cheeky smile, and turned her back.

When he was done he settled back onto his bed with a weary groan and the house-elf returned to his side. He rested his head back against the wall. How was he supposed to escape if he couldn't even get out of his bloody room? He shook his head, dispersing his thoughts as Tibby placed her tray carefully on his lap.

"Here, Master Sirius, eat," she said. "You need to eat. You need to get your strength up."

For several long moments he merely stared at the food in a muddled daze, before picking up his fork and lifting a small portion to his lips. Despite the fact that it was the first proper food he'd had in days, and Tibby had purposefully brought him items that were neither too heavy nor too rich, he found that he had great difficulty in actually eating any of it. He chewed slowly, swallowing reluctantly. His stomach, which, he felt, should have been clamouring for the sustenance, instead threatened to rebel.

He pushed the food around on his plate - finally forcing himself to take another mouthful when he saw the look of disapproval Tibby was casting his way. After a few mouthfuls it began to get a little easier, but he only managed to clear a fraction of his plate before he ground to halt. Thankfully Tibby decided not to press him and merely cast him a slightly worried glance as she removed the tray.

It was then, as she vanished from the room, that he noticed the parcel set at the foot of his bed, wrapped in a bright paper decorated with numerous small sleighs crossing repeatedly back and forth. It seemed he had actually received a gift this Christmas… If anything that fact only managed to leave him feeling depressed. The presence of the lone gift merely emphasised the lack from… well, from anyone else at all.

It was with a feeling that almost amounted to reluctance that he clambered over and began to open it, but he then smiled as he realised who it was from - Andromeda. One of the few people who didn't hate him. Chocolate frogs, dungbombs and a muggle watch. He had always loved just how well she knew him.

"Tibby's got you something too, Master Sirius."

He looked up from his small pile of gifts to see Tibby standing before him. She shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot, her eyes lowered bashfully as she clutched at a small parcel.

"It's not much," she continued, "and I know it's a few days late, but Tibby remembers how you always liked them." And with that she dumped the parcel unceremoniously onto his lap.

It was bound in what appeared to be an old handkerchief and tied with a piece of string. It was an odd, lumpy shape. With a slightly puzzled glance at the hovering figure of the little house-elf, Sirius unfastened the string, allowing the battered cloth to fall open.

"Chocolate brownies! Thanks Tibs. Merlin, I haven't had your brownies in years…"

"Tibby remembered how you always liked them," she repeated, perching herself on the edge of the bed next to him.

For the next several minutes they sat in a companionable silence while Sirius nibbled on the edge of a brownie. The rest he re-wrapped and tucked away for later. It was Tibby who finally broke the silence and she brought up a topic that Sirius was hoping she had failed to notice.

"Master Sirius, why is you home this year? And why have you got no pressies from your friends? Tibby thought you had good friends away at Hoggywarts."

"I… I did." He had, once. Not any more though. He lowered his eyes, struggling to keep his emotionless mask in place. He would not break down!

"You talked in your sleep you know, Master Sirius. When you were sick…"

"Oh…?" He paused as he glanced up at his old nurse. "Um… what did I say?"

"Tibby heard you call out, Master Sirius - to Remus and James. They are your friends, yes?"

"Yeah… Or they were anyway."

Tibby sat beside him, quietly. A soothing presence - and a listening ear. A listening ear that, he suddenly realised, he needed to utilise.
"I did something really stupid, Tibs. Something really, really stupid." He kept his eyes lowered, fixed on the dark fabric of his bed-spread, but all he could see were Remus' eyes that next morning - eyes filled with weary hurt. "You probably heard them shouting at me about it. But things are far worse than they could ever see. Who cares about stupid Snape anyway?"

He paused, trying to decide just how to tell her what had happened. "I have this friend…" he began. "Or, I suppose I should say, I had this friend. He has a secret - a big dangerous secret that he trusted me with. I told someone. Worse, I told someone who would quite happily use this knowledge to hurt… my friend. And… I didn't think! I wanted to give Snape a scare. He had me so angry… I didn't think that I would be putting, not only his but also Remus' life in danger! I didn't think. I didn't think about anything. What I did was unforgivable and now they all hate me. And I deserve it. I probably deserve all this as well."

The house-elf had remained silent whilst he spoke. Now he finally lifted his eyes, to find her gazing at him with an expression that was far different to that which he had expected to find. He had expected, at the least, disappointment. More likely, to his mind, were disgust, anger or, even, maybe, hatred… But no. She looked at him with compassionate understanding.

He turned his head away. "Don't…" he began, only to be interrupted by Tibby's voice.

"Master Sirius does not deserve this!" she rebuked, a small trace of anger now in her voice. "He must not even think such a thing. Master Sirius was foolish, yes, and he will have to earn his friends forgiveness, but Tibby is sure they will forgive him…"

Sirius shrugged, in no way convinced by her words but not willing to argue the point. "Thanks Tibs," he said, "but… well, we'll see…"

"We will, yes. As soon as we get you back to Hoggywarts."

Back to Hogwarts… Back to his friends… That thought, rather than reassure him, though, merely set a heavy weight to rest in his chest. No matter what Tibby might say on the subject, he had accepted that he deserved every bit of anger that his friends directed at him. James had been right when he'd called him worthless. He was no better than the rest of his family. He didn't deserve their forgiveness and it would take an entire lifetime for him to earn it.

He had lost them.

That look of pure hurt on Remus' face… He could still see it whenever he closed his eyes. It had later been replaced by a cold mask, an emotionless expression, that had made Sirius feel even worse - because he had seen that hurt, even if it hadn't been there for long. After the hurt, of course, had also come the anger - anger that Remus, with his hatred of losing control, had refused to express.

That was why he had come home this Christmas, as much as anything. His constant presence in Gryffindor tower had been causing his friend nothing but pain. There was also, of course, the fear that the werewolf's hold on his anger might falter… Getting the odd beating off his parent's, a familiar, if unpleasant, occurrence, had been less of a worry to him then than had been getting in the way of an enraged werewolf. Not because the beating would be any worse, but the emotional aftermath would have been hell. For both of them.

His view had changed now, of course. He would give anything to be away from here. The circumstances were in no way the familiar treatment he was used to from his parents. This was a living, terrifying hell. He didn't think he had ever been so scared in his entire life. He had to get away.

"I had planned to leave before, you know, Tibs," he suddenly told her, remembering his plans for that night as if it was a lifetime ago. Just how many days had it been? He would have to remember to ask. "I hadn't planned on being here when they got home."

The house-elf didn't look even remotely surprised.

"Tibby had thought that might be so," she said, bobbing her large head in an almost comical manner.

"And, as soon as I can, I'm going to be leaving now…"

He caught himself, struck be a sudden distressing thought. His parents' reaction to his escaping would in no way be pleasant, and it didn't take a genius to figure out just who the most likely target for their anger would be. Tibby. It would be his nursemaid who took the fall-out from his actions. He couldn't have that… There was no way he could let that happen! But how could he stop it?

"Come with me, Tibs!" he exclaimed. "When I leave, come with me to Hogwarts. I'm sure you could find a place there…"

"Go with you?" Her eyes widened so much that they looked like they were about to pop out of her head. "But, Master Black, I can't!" she protested. "I'm tied to the House of Black, remember?"

"Then I'll free you. I'm a Black, as much as I may hate that fact! I can grant you your freedom."

"Freedom…" For a brief moment a look of intense longing crossed her face, before being replaced by fear and, he thought, what looked like self-disgust. "No, Master Sirius. A house-elf is not meant to be free. A house-elf is born to serve…"

"But you can serve elsewhere! I'm a Black! You can come and serve me. And be free - not to mention well away from them!"

"No. No. Don't mention it again, Master Sirius. Tibby does not want to hear it."

"But…"

"No, Master Sirius. Tibby must stay here."

With a defeated sigh Sirius sank back down onto his bed. There was no use arguing with her now, not when she had that stubborn expression in her eyes. He would try again later - after having given the idea a little while to take root…

For several long moments he merely sat, staring, unseeing, at the wall of his room whilst the house-elf bustled around him. It was all well and good talking about escaping - but how exactly was he going to do it? After all, he felt like shit, was trapped in his room, and he didn't even have his wand. In fact, he didn't even have any real idea where his wand even was…

"Tibs…?" he asked slowly. "Tibby? Could you get me my wand? I know you know where it is. If I had my wand I… I'm sure I could get out of here!"

"It's in the drawing room, Master Sirius."

"I know it is Tibs. You told me that on… on that night." He paused before asking, "Tibby, what day is it? How long is it since Father…"

"Three days, Master Sirius. It's the 27th. Nearly the 28th."

"Three days!"

Tibby nodded her head. "Tibby found you on Christmas Day, Master Sirius. Master Sirius… Tibby was so scared when she found you. She was bringing your pressie. There was blood everywhere! Tibby thought you were dead. There was so much blood and you lay so still…"

He wrapped his good arm around the house-elf's trembling shoulders, pulling her into a hug.

"Thank you, Tibs. I think… I think I probably would have been dead had you not come…"

She suddenly pulled away, brushing tears out of her eyes. "Tibby will get your wand, Master Sirius. Tibby will not let that nasty man hurt you again!"


A/N - Well, I hope that chapters all right. Its actually only half of what I had intended to put in this chapter and it's still the longest one yet. This story keeps growing! Please leave me a review. I have to say that I was rather disappointed last week. I had hoped for a few more than three… Please!!!!

Egwene - I love getting your reviews. I really do. I was quite worried that I wasn't getting one for that last chapter… Umm. I think, maybe, I ought to try to explain a bit of what I'm actually trying to do here. I'm probably not doing it well, but I am trying! The story, which will probably be about 15/16 chapters long (it keeps getting longer - it was originally 12) will show a steady decline in Sirius' mental state. The amount of psychological angst will increase accordingly. At the beginning he was trying not to think about any of his problems, which is his way of protecting himself - his mental armour, so to speak. As his situation gets worse (and yes, it will get worse before it gets better) his ability to not think about things will steadily disintegrate, and he'll get more and more depressed. The story will span just over a week and there will another two stories following on straight after. I can't really say any more than that or I might ruin some of the plot… I hope you keep reading and keep letting me know how I'm doing!

Phinea - I'm so glad you like Tibby! I was rather worried about including her. I wasn't sure what her reception would be. I hope you think she's all right in this chapter too.

Allacaya - Thank you for your review. I'm glad you're enjoying it. Oh, and I like to think that you can have more than one wand that suits you perfectly.