Disclaimer – I own nothing of Harry Potter…if I did Sirius wouldn't have died (not that he has coz he's not dead!)

A/N – The theme of this story could be considered as a spoiler for HBP though it's only a little little one and I'm not revealing anything major to the story, I promise. I'm just elaborating on one tiny little conversation in the book. Oh and this story is set after HBP. Leave me a nice review x

Chapter 1

"Scum!" the word was so well timed with the next blow that Remus Lupin felt it was the word itself that had driven itself into his gut, knocking the wind out of him, certainly not for the first time that evening.

He felt himself rise with the blow and then fall back down again, still held tightly in the arms of the two werewolves who held him fast. The werewolf before him smirked and drove another fist into Lupin's stomach. Even in their human form these werewolves possessed incredible strength and Lupin felt that strength turned against him as the group continued to beat him and torture him, revenge for his betrayal of Fenrir Greyback.

"Filth!" the werewolf spat, punching the ex professor across his face. Lupin felt his cheek bone crack under his skin, but was determined not to give them the further satisfaction of crying out even though his cheek was not the only thing to be in agony. Instead he took the punishment in silence, wondering how in the space of just a few short hours he had ended up back at the werewolf underground where he was neither welcome nor wanted to be.

"Traitor!" another werewolf who was hanging back, behind the torturer, hissed. The werewolf who was beating Lupin took this as a sign to give him another blow, which he did so with efficient speed and force, causing blood to gush from the professor's nose as well as a black eye to be proud of and a cut lip to add to the whole image.

"That's enough," the werewolf who had done the damage decided, taking a step back to survey his handiwork. The two holding Lupin let him drop and he crumpled to the floor instantly, unable even to move as he lay there in a bloodied heap. The werewolf smiled and gestured to the two, "We will continue this tomorrow, take him away."

Lupin still refused to utter even the smallest noise of protest as the other two grabbed him, harshly and proceeded to drag him across the ground to the smallest of rooms they had dubbed, 'the cell.'

Throwing the crumpled body that was Lupin into 'the cell', he received one more kick to the stomach from one of the werewolves for good measure before they locked him in, laughing as he coughed up yet another wave of fresh blood onto the already stained floor.

Lupin coughed a few times more, but fortunately no more blood came with it. Pushing himself onto his hands and knees, he managed to move far enough so he could sit up against the back wall, using it for support as he took in every detail of the room into which he had been imprisoned.

He could see why they had named it 'the cell'. It was something out of a horror film where the incurably insane were thrown into tiny, padded confinement rooms to protect themselves as well as others. The stains of blood that were smeared throughout the room did little to comfort Remus and added to the horror film effect.

Lupin stopped looking around the room, though it was so small and completely empty there was little to look at in the first place and he turned his attention to himself. His lip was cut, but the blood had stopped. His stomach was aching but the worst of the pain had subsided and now he imagined all he was left with was one impressive collection of bruises around his gut. He raised one hand to his face and brushed one hand lightly over left cheek, he immediately regretted it and bit his already cut lip to stop himself from crying out. "Definitely broken," he muttered to himself, continuing his exploration to discover just to what extent he had been injured. His nose was still bleeding, but only a trickle and to his amazement that was not broken. One eye was seriously bruised but he could still see through it, no doubt when it had time to realise that it was injured it would swell up and half blind him until it healed. There was nothing else, so he ran his hand through his thin head of hair, feeling it becoming flecked with the blood from his hand as he did so. Bringing his hands before him he could see that they were shaking uncontrollably and he lowered them, trying to ignore the violent quaking.

Leaning his head back against the wall, he let out a deep sigh and inhaled deeply as he tried to figure out exactly what had happened. It was all very simple really, though everything had happened so fast it seemed as though the events were all exceptionally complex.

Fenrir Greyback, the malicious leader of the underground werewolf clan was dead and although they didn't know the circumstances or who exactly it was, the werewolves imagined it had been someone from the Order of the Pheonix. It had not been long before they discovered that Remus Lupin who had been a member of the underground werewolves for almost a year was also a member of the Order and had obviously been passing vital information to them which led to the fall of Greyback. At least, that was how the werewolves saw it. Lupin had indeed been passing information to the Order, of course he had been placed there upon Dumbledore's instructions but not for the reasons they suspected. Dumbledore was of course far more interested in the werewolf dealings with Voldermort if there were any, he cared little for Greyback in any other context. But none of this mattered to the werewolves, not that Lupin had been given any kind of chance to explain himself. The only thing that mattered was that Lupin was a traitor.

So here he was.

Taken by the werewolves upon the orders of the new leader, the strongest after Greyback, a deadly creature by the name of Sabre, Lupin had been brought back to the underground where he would endure much more torture and pain until they tired of it and decided to kill him.

Despite the hopelessness of the situation there was of course, as there often was in seemingly bleak prospects, at least one comforting thought to be had. As a member of the Order he was required to make daily reports to the others, reporting anything they considered to be the work of the Dark Lord, anything that seemed odd and unusual. If a report was not made then someone from the Order would be dispatched to find out why there was no news. Lupin smirked when he pictured Kingsley Shacklebolt knocking on his front door, waiting for it to be opened only to find that the interior looking like a bomb of some kind had exploded within…well the werewolves wouldn't have taken him without a fight would they? His report was due in in just a few short hours, but until the Order realised he was gone and figured out just where it was he had been taken (which would probably take more time than anything else) Lupin would just have sit, wait and in the mean time take his punishment.

At the same time Remus Lupin was falling into a disturbed sleep in his cell, someone else was trying to fall into a slumber but to no avail. Many, many miles away Nymphradora Tonks was lying in her bed, staring blankly at the window as wide awake as she had ever been during the day even though she desperately wanted to try and sleep.

'I'm too old for you,' Tonks closed her eyes, not to sleep but rather to shut out the voice that was keeping her awake, 'I'm too poor.' The words uttered by Lupin just a few days ago stayed with her, refusing to leave her alone. Of course they were words he had uttered a million times before, just as she had declared her undying love a million times before, but since Sirius had died things had just got so much worse as she had turned to his best friend for comfort only to be rejected…again.

'I'm too old for you.' Tonks let out a quiet, frustrated yell and turning herself over she buried her face in the pillow trying to escape the haunting voice, not that it did much good as the voice was completely in her head. 'I'm too poor for you,' since when had money meant anything to love? She was an Auror, she had a wage, she could support them until Remus found himself a job and could contribute, but even if he couldn't and he wouldn't be supported by her, she wouldn't love him any less because of his shabby clothes or his small house or anything else to do with money. Likewise, age. She had never minded his age before, love didn't regard that either when it struck. She knew plenty of witches and wizards who had married people much older than themselves or much younger. Indeed, she was close friends with a couple who's age gap far outshone the one between her and Lupin.

'You deserve someone younger, someone whole.' Tonks screamed into her pillow again though the sound came out incredibly muffled and she felt herself, not for the first time on the verge of tears thinking about Lupin. She didn't give a damn about who she deserved, she gave a damn about who she wanted.

She was snapped out of these thoughts by a heavy knock at the front door. Tonks sat up quickly, taking her pillow with her as her head surfaced and she looked over at the clock, not absolutely sure she had heard anything.

It was gone three in the morning and yet there it was, another knock at the door. She jumped into action as if this was part of a mission or a training exercise, in an instant her wand was out and she was slipping down the stairs as silently as her clumsy frame would allow while the visitor continued to bang on the door, it almost sounded frantic.

Reaching the door she looked through the peep hole to see Kingsley Shacklebolt knocking the door with such force she was surprised the neighbours wouldn't think he was trying to break it down.

"Tonks?" he shouted, banging the door for what seemed to be the last time as if he had suddenly decided he had made quite enough noise to wake her up, as well as the rest of the street in all probability.

"I'm here," she called from the other side of the door, surveying him suspiciously from the small hole. It was three in the morning, surprisingly enough fellow colleagues didn't usually drop in on each other at this kind of time in the morning. "Kingsley?" she asked, taking the advice of the Ministry's advice when dealing with fellow wizards, as well as the orders given to her by her own department, "What's your favourite flavour crisp?" she asked, ignoring the chuckle that came from the wizard, though he knew she was just following procedure.

"Salt and vinegar," he called, "Though I can't wait for them to make a sausage dinner flavour either," he paused for a moment, "and you, what's your favourite pizza topping?"

She opened the door, convinced that this was the real Kingsley Shacklebolt before her, though he was pointing his wand at her as soon as the door was open enough for him to see her, "Hawaiin with a handful of mushrooms," she said, quietly, "and extra tomato sauce of course."

He lowered the wand, satisfied with her answer and accepted her invite to come into the house. Just as well too, as people had started coming into the streets to see what on earth all the noise had been about.

"What are you doing here at this time?" she yawned, though she knew that she wasn't especially tired. She followed him into the sitting room where he sat, resting his elbows on his knees and in turn his chin upon his hands, gesturing for her to sit as well.

"I have some bad news," he whispered. The expression on her face was a look of utmost shock, after the week that they had just had there was nothing, absolutely nothing that could make it worse. "It's Lupin," he muttered, watching her and he could tell that her heart had just sunk within her chest as she staggered to sit as he had suggested earlier.

"What-What about him?" she asked after regaining enough of her composure to speak without breaking down.

"He didn't report in so I went to his house. It was obvious there had been a struggle, it was a mess."

"The Dark Mark?" Tonks whispered, her voice catching in her throat as she did so. Kingsley shook his head and she lightened up a bit, if only very, very slightly. This wasn't Voldemort's doing, if it had been the Death Eaters would be only to pleased to admit they killed another one of the Order.

"We don't know where he is or what's happened to him…but there was this…" Kingsley held out Lupin's wand to her, which she took with trembling hands. "I thought you might like to be the one to…"

"look for him?" she finished his sentence for him and gave half a smile when he nodded to her, "Of course I will."

TBC