A/N: Thanks so much to the people who reviewed!

'Wake up, werewolf.'

Teddy Lupin heard the voice, echoing somewhere in a very distant part of his head. Somehow, his mind failed to connect the sentence to its implications. It was meaningless—just a random string of words. He was too tired to make sense of it.

'Werewolf! Now!'

That voice again, only this time it was accompanied by a sharp blow to the side of his head. Teddy's eyes snapped open, involuntarily. Blinking rapidly, he tried to adjust to the sudden bright light. He was too disorientated to think properly, he couldn't work out where he was or what was going on. Wincing at the pain in his stinging ear, he tried to reach up and touch it, only to find his arms bound to his sides. Oh, hell.

Through still-bleary eyes, he tried to take in his blurry surroundings. He was fairly certain that he was indoors, and the walls appeared to be some drab, grey shade. There were several colourful shapes moving around him, or, well, hovering over him since he appeared to be slumped on the ground. He tried to straighten up, and one of the colourful shapes yelled, 'Don't move!' and kicked him—hard—in the ribs. He moaned, and someone gave a scratchy laugh.

Almost abruptly, his eyes began to work properly. In desperation, he stared around at the colourful shapes, which turned out to be people. Ministry people, wearing Ministry robes. Furiously, he tried to force his sleep-befuddled mind to wake up, to think. He needed to focus. He resisted the urge to sit up, the stabbing pains in his only recently healed ribs serving to reinforce this.

'Werewolf, can you hear me?'

Inwardly, Teddy cringed at being addressed thus. He glanced up into the man's severe face—completely unfamiliar. His head was clearer and he now knew what he needed—answers.

'What's going on?' he asked hoarsely, forcing himself not to look away from the man's narrowed eyes.

'Shut it,' snapped someone else. 'We have some questions for you to answer.'

Teddy forced himself not to groan. More questions. He shifted slightly against the wall, and someone's foot slammed him, again, in the ribs. He cried out before he could help himself, then clamped his lips shut. 'You were told to stay still!' someone snarled.

In a haze of pain, Teddy closed his eyes and tried to breathe evenly. Common sense was telling him to just shut up and do what he was told. Another part of him, the proud, nervy Gryffindor part of him, was encouraging him to do whatever the hell he had to in order to defy these bastards, and hadn't he suffered worse pain than his ribs? Teddy opened his eyes, aware that common sense was losing this battle, and not even trying to fight it. His father's face swam into his mind's eyes—his father, who had died to protect people like these Ministry idiots. Indignation, hot and overpowering, numbed the pain in his ribs. His head was perfectly clear now.

The first question came: 'What is your place of residence?'

Teddy considered this, then glanced up and spoke in an acidic tone, 'I'm not answering any of your damned questions until you tell me what's going on.' He hesitated, then added, 'I have rights, you know.'

The foot swung out again, but this time Teddy was ready for it. Using his legs to propel himself, he scooted to the side in time to dodge the blow. Gritting his teeth against the throbbing pain, he addressed the severe-faced man, 'I want to know who you people are. I haven't done anything wrong, and I want to know why I've been grabbed.' Blessedly, his words came out smooth and steady, with an angry undertone.

The severe-faced man, whose face was really nothing more than a mass of sharp angles and pointy cheekbones, with two pinprick black eyes and colourless hair, sneered. 'No one cares about what you want, boy.'

It took some effort for Teddy to avoid rolling his eyes. They were predictable, these people. At least he had been promoted from 'werewolf' to 'boy'. He fixed the man cold glare, and said, 'If you really are from the Ministry, then you must know that there are rules and regulations you have to follow when you arrest somebody.'

One of the other men, a great hulking giant who, Teddy was quite sure, was responsible for all the kicking, bared his teeth. Teddy braced himself for another dose of pain, but none came. The severe-faced man was now scowling heavily. 'You think you're something, don't you, werewolf?' So much for the promotion…

The man crouched down so his face was just a few inches from Teddy's. Teddy recoiled slightly, but the man simply leaned closer, his breath stinking of garlic and toothpaste. He spoke very softly, a dangerous glint in his eye. 'You're going to answer our questions, and when we're through with that you are going to do exactly as we tell you to. You have no rights. We don't follow any rules. Is that understood, werewolf?'

Teddy stared at him. A small knot of fear had surfaced somewhere in his gut. This was bad…

'I said,' growled the man, shoving his bony face even closer to Teddy's. 'Do you understand? Or do things have to get ugly?'

Lurking behind him, the other men chuckled nastily. Teddy swallowed. The fear was getting worse, and he didn't like it at all. Common sense was starting to sound like a very good idea, but he wasn't ready to give up just yet. Damned Gryffindor pride. He looked the man right in the eye. 'Tell me why I'm here,' he said stubbornly, 'and I'll answer your questions.'

The man stood up, face impassive. Calmly, he removed his wand from his robes and leveled it at Teddy. The dangerous glint in his eye had turned practically maniacal. 'The questions begin now,' he murmured, 'and failing to answer them will only allow me to increase my proficiency of the Cruciatus Curse.'

Teddy felt himself turn cold.

'What is your place of residence?'

Teddy swallowed. 'I already went through this with your mates,' he told the severe-faced man. 'Why don't you just check in with them?'

'Cru—,'

'St. John's Wood!' Teddy blurted out. 'Number twelve Cavendish Lane, in St. John's Wood.' He took a deep, shaky breath, but the terrible sickening dread was palpable. Why did giving in make him feel so weak?

The man was smirking. Teddy heard the scratching of a quill on parchment, and knew what someone was taking notes. The next question came, forcefully, 'Where do you transform?'

Teddy swallowed. 'In a shed, in the garden.'

'Always?'

'Yes.'

'Can anyone confirm that?' the man wanted to know.

'My grandmother,' whispered Teddy. 'Andromeda Tonks.'

The man eyed him wrathfully. 'What colour is your fur?'

Teddy hoped they couldn't see his hands shaking at his sides. 'I don't know,' he answered truthfully.

The man took a step closer, bearing down on him. 'I'm going to ask again,' he said in a very quiet voice. 'What colour is your fur?'

Suddenly, the indignation was back, hot and furious. 'How the hell should I know?' he snapped, glaring. 'Do you think I have someone take photos of me during the full moon? I haven't a clue what colour I am, and I don't care! If you're so curious, then feel free to drop by the shed next month and have a look, but no guarantees that I won't rip off your bloody—,'

Suddenly, Teddy was in excruciating pain. His entire body was on fire; his bones seemed to be twisting, his flesh crumbling. He had never experienced something like this in his life. It was worse even than the full moon. And then, it was over. He was lying curled up on his side, shaking and gasping and sobbing. Cruel laughter rang through the room.

'Sit up!'

But Teddy couldn't sit up. The pain in his ribs was intense; the torture had rendered him weak and drained. With his arms bound tightly to his sides, he had no means of pushing himself upright. Closing his eyes, he wondered what they would do to him now. He tried not to think about it.

Rough hands were on him, yanking him into an upright sitting position. His ribs screamed in protest, and a soft whimper escaped him before he could help it. He opened his watery eyes and looked up at the severe-faced man, who appeared to be enjoying this immensely. 'You'll be sorry if you give me any more cheek, boy.'

Teddy didn't respond. He wanted to go home.

'Have you ever bitten anyone?' demanded the man harshly.

Teddy shook his head, staring at his knees. An annoyed voice inside his head was telling him to fight, not to concede like this. But it seemed there was nothing he could do.

A/N: What do you think? Please please please review! (I promise it won't be this depressing the whole way through…)