It was a bright July evening, and business was booming in The Hanged Man. The villagers of Little Hangleton had come out in force to celebrate the mayoress' birthday, and the beer was flowing freely. The landlord, Abraham Todd, opened the till and eyed the many twenty pound notes greedily. He would be living well for the next few months! 'More cider, Abe!' Screeched a woman called Dot, 'more cider! That's the lad!' Abraham wiped his brow with his apron. The mayoress-who had previously been the cook in the old Riddle House, up on the hill, was regailing her friends with some wild tale about the Riddles. Abraham had no interest in them-he had only recently taken over management of the pub, and had already heard the crazy stories a hundred times. He retreated to the bar once more, and began cleaning glasses feverishly. After a few minutes, he felt someone's eyes on him, and looked up;

A man sat at the bar, watching Abraham. He was quite young, but he seemed world weary and depressed. He wore a long, hooded cloak. When he saw that Abraham had noticed him, he pushed his hood off his head, and smiled slightly. His hair was greying, and there was a long scratch down his left cheek. Abraham had never seen him before, and had certainly not seen him enter.

'Can I get you a drink, sir?' He asked cheerfully, 'you look done in! Are you from Great Hangleton?'

The man smiled again. 'I'll have a glass of water, if you can provide me with one', he replied quietly, 'and no, I'm from a little further afield than Great Hangleton.'

Abraham went to the tap and filled a glass with water. The stranger pulled out a drawstring bag, but Abraham shook his head. 'On the house', he said, with a broad grin, 'you from one of the papers then? Hoping to get a scoop? I can tell you all about the mayoress if you want!'

The stranger shook his head. 'I didn't even know Little Hangleton had a mayoress', he said with a chuckle, 'I'm here on business-I want to look at the old Riddle House. I, er...have an interest in it.'

'Well if you buy it', Abraham answered, 'do somethin' to cheer it up a bit, will you? It's in a dreadful state these days. What d'you want to buy it for?'

The stranger shrugged. 'Memories', he said softly, sipping his water, 'things that I have lost...'

Abraham eyed the stranger nervously now. He seemed to be a particularly stranger stranger. Everyone knew the Riddle House was bad news and anyone who was involved with it always met a bad end-apart from the cook, of course. 'I'd be careful of it, Mr...what did you say your name was?'

'I didn't', the man replied calmly, 'it's Lupin.'

'Well, Mr. Lupin, I'd beware of that house. It's haunted, so it is. All sorts of odd goings-on. An old man died two years ago when he went in there, and the family that used to own it died the same way-nobody knows how, or why, or who did it. You seem like a nice man, so I just want to warn you, that's all.'

'Thank you Mr. Todd', Lupin said with a smile, 'but I must still go to the Riddle House. And I'm afraid I'm going to have to make you forget we ever had this conversation. Obliviate!'

Before Abraham could ask how the stranger had known his name, his mind went horribly blank. It took him several minutes to remember where he was, or what he had been doing. Ah yes, that was it-he'd been getting more cider for Dot...

He looked around the bar, to see if there was anyone who needed serving, but if anyone had been sitting there before Abraham regained his memory, they disappeared.

Remus Lupin trudged up the hill, feeling better after the short rest in the pub. That Abraham Todd had seemed like a nice man, it was a shame he had had to wipe his memory. But if Remus didn't return from the Riddle House, and Abraham Todd had remembered that he had been heading there, the alarm would have been raised, and probably an investigation would be opened. No, it was better if nobody knew where he was gone.

The gates were locked. Remus pulled out his wand once more, and whispered 'Alohomora'. Immediately, the gates swung open, creaking on their rusty hinges. Remus walked slowly up the driveway, trying to stop his heart from pounding so hard against his ribcage. When he reached the doors, he had a moment of hesitation, where he stopped and had a mad urge to run back down the hill as fast as possible. But he pictured Harry's tear-stained face and guilt-ridden conscience, and his greif-stricken comrades of the Order of the Phoenix, and knew that he was doing the right thing. Sirius had been living proof that goodness could triumph over evil; he had survived so much! It had touched everyone's hearts, to think that at last, Harry had something resembling a father. Sirius' wild courage and refusal to be downtrodden, no matter what happened, had inspired them all. Now he was dead, and his killer had escaped.

Remus steeled himself, and opened one of the front doors, again using the simple opening spell. He had expected the house to be far more well protected, but perhaps it really had been completely abandoned...

Remus needed to find the dining room. That was where the Riddles had been found dead, so Voldemort would still have a faint connection with the room. He found it easily-it was the second room on the right hand side of the hallway. He entered the dining room, and looked around. There was no evidence that three people had met a horrible death in this very room. Remus shivered, and took a deep breath.

'Voldemort!' He shouted, 'I summon you to your father's home! Accio pervenio!'

It was a highly complicated spell, and Remus did not expect it to work first time. To summon a person was far more difficult than summoning an object. He tried again. And again.

Nothing happened.

Furious and exasperated, he picked up a plate off the fully set dining table and smashed it against the opposite wall.

'Now now, Remus, I will expect you to pay for that.'

An icy cold filled Lupin's heart and stomach. He knew that Lord Voldemort was standing behind him, and the very thought terrified him. But he couldn't let Voldemort see that he feared him...he couldn't let him win...

Slowly, Remus turned around, and felt his breath catch in his throat as he saw the snake-like face of Tom Riddle; the flat nose, the livid, red eyes, the cruel mouth. He gulped, and Voldemort laughed.

'I know why you have called me here, Remus', he said, a smirk playing about his lips, as he fingered his wand in a menacing manner, 'but I do not know how you found the courage to do this. Was it the werewolf in you that gave you the guts?'

Remus clenched his fists but ignored the taunt. 'You know why I'm here', he said shakily, 'so will you help me?'

'What makes you think I can bring a man back from the dead, Remus?' Voldemort asked, his eyes boring into Remus'.

'You've spent years working out ways to come back, Riddle', Remus spat, still holding Voldemort's gaze, although it phsyically pained and sickened him to do so, 'if it wasn't for Harry, you would've succeeded long before now.'

Voldemort looked amused. 'If you want a favour from me, werewolf, then calling me by that filthy Muggle name will not encourage me to be of any help. You are brave, to face Lord Voldemort in such a fashion. Brave, but foolish. Yes, I know what must be done to bring Sirius back from beyond the veil. You are lucky that he died by falling through the archway, for it is easy enough to bring a person back from such a death-I have achieved it several times myself. I know wizards who have stepped through voluntarily, wanting to explore the world beyond, and hoping one day to find a way back. These men, whose fascinations with death and desire to overcome it, are among my most trusted followers. But I have never resurrected someone because their friend begged me. What will you offer me in return for my knowledge of the veil?'

'What do I have that you want?' Remus asked quietly, 'and how do I know you will keep your part of the bargain, if we strike one?'

'A wizard's bond is unbreakable, when it is made magically', Voldemort said, 'this is how I bind my supporters to me, so they can never escape.'

'If you trap them with you, you can hardly call them your supporters, can you?' Remus retorted bravely.

'Let us not be distracted by such little things', Voldemort hissed, moving closer, 'you know what I would take from you, Lupin, if you struck a bargain with me. The question is, how much does the life of your friend mean to you? Does it mean enough?'

Remus' stomach felt like it was full of snakes. He wanted to throw up, to run away, to have a scalding hot shower and wash away Voldemort's gaze, and the very memory of this conversation. But he had come this far...

'This magical seal you want to put on our bargain', he said shakily, 'what will it be? What will it mean for me?'

'You will continue to go about your life as usual...except with no magic. I am still weak, Lupin. This is not a proper body-this is a skeleton! I am but a shadow of my former self, but with the magic of others combined with my own, I am growing stronger. Even if you did not give me your magic, I would just find another fool, kill him, and take all his power.'

'So why am I being let off so lightly?' Remus challenged suspiciously.

Voldemort laughed again-that high, cold laugh. 'You will have made a bargain with Lord Voldemort', he said coldly, 'in your mind, that makes you tainted. You will constantly be living a lie, because I know you will tell this to no one. I will be satisfied-and entertained-by the knowledge that a member of Dumbledore's little army made a pact with me once.'

'Swear', Remus whispered, 'swear to me that you will keep your word, and that after this, you will leave me alone. How I will feel about myself is none of your concern.'

Voldemort raised his wand. 'Take yours out too, werewolf', he said mockingly, 'now we make the pact...'

They held the tips of their wands together, and Remus murmured, 'I swear to hold my end of the bargain...on my own soul.'

'I swear to uphold my part of the pact', Voldemort whispered, 'on that which is most precious to me...my life.'

The wands glowed red momentarily, and Remus felt something like an electric shock run through his body.

The two wizards stepped away from each other.

'You are more courageous than I thought, werewolf',Voldemort said, sounding slightly impressed, 'and more cunning too-to go behind the back of Dumbledore like this...we could use a man like you on our side-if you weren't a half-blood werewolf, that is.'

'Just tell me how to bring Sirius Black back to life, Tom', Remus spat bitterly, 'and leave Dumbledore out of this.'

And so Voldemort started to tell Remus what to do to bring his best friend back from beyond the veil.

But all Remus could think of was the bargain.

His pact with the devil.