Candeh – Okay, sorry it took me so long to update.
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Chapter Ten –
The Last of the Marauders
"He wants us to prove it," Snape said, folding his hands in front of him, looking warily at the people in front of them. He sighed, trying to look like he had better things to do than sit here with the pathetic members of the Order, but truth be told, he had not pulled off a bored expression. His face was twisted into an inevitable worry, whether for the Order's well-being or his own, it definitely showed.
Dumbledore nodded, then sighed. "In light of the present situation…considering the death of Sirius Black," he stopped, his face turning solemn as well as with the rest of the members, all except for Snape, whose worry went into a smirk, but he returned his face to the worried one and went on fingering the designs planted into the chair he sat in. "The Order has lost an important member and this leaves a weak spot for Harry Potter," he sighed. McGonagall sniffed.
"That still leaves the proving matter," Snape said, now truly bored. It had come a bit as a surprise when he had learned that his own cousin, Bellatrix had killed Sirius, but it was one of those surprises that you just love so much, it was something you wish you could have expected so you could rub it around in everyone's faces because you knew it was going to happen. He shifted in his chair satisfied, but cleared his throat dismissing it.
"It does," Dumbledore nodded, stroking his beard, still expressing nothing but grief for the death. "We would hate to loose yet another member," he said, shaking his head. McGonagall gasped.
"You don't think Fenrir would…" her voice trailed off. Dumbledore looked exhaust. Her hand went over her mouth as she spoke the words, as if even mentioning this thought would make it play before her eyes.
Of course he would. The answer was obvious. If Fenrir found out that Remus wasn't really against the Order, that Snape was tricking both Voldemort and the werewolf brigade, both their throats would be slit.
Dumbledore stood up. "I think the mission should carry on," he said sadly, as if this was something he had thought deeply into saying. The popping of the fire mixed with Dumbledore's wise, raspy voice created a sense of creepy illumination throughout the hideout of the Black's old home. "Unless something else goes wrong. If any of you feel anything that is not right, Remus is to be pulled out. Whether they know it or not. Do you hear me, Severus?"
Snape sighed, stood up, and nodded. "Fine."
Dumbledore nodded powerfully. "Go back to you classes, then, Severus," he said. "And when you are done, check in with him. The last time I saw him he was…not well. If it is possible, comfort him about the death of his friend. I'm sure you can do that for me, can you, Severus?"
"I most certainly will," Snape said, glaring when he saw Mad-Eye, Kingsley and McGonagall snort with noises of sarcastic laughter. He spun on his heels, creating a squeaking turning on the tile. His cape brushed back across the floor, hitting the wall, and then folding over the fabric as it swooshed around with the sudden captivity of the wind.
- - - - -
Remus sighed. He could not feel anything. Nothing. He could not feel the wind against his face, nor the rain that pinched like needles against his cheeks and fingers, he could not even hear the noises of the other chatting werewolves around him, the chattering of his teeth, Fenrir's deep voice above him.
"I said: 'Get up," Fenrir said. Remus jumped, startled. He wondered how long Fenrir had been looking at him and asking him to move. He swallowed hard, then stood, shaking. His best friend was dead. The only one of four people throughout his life who made sure that he was okay, one of little who actually cared about a beast.
"Sorry," Remus said, a bit bitter. Fenrir smirked. Remus winced, changing his tone and shoving his hands in his pockets. "Sorry," he said again, sounded slaved. He looked down, his yellow eyes lighting up the ground in front of him.
Fenrir grabbed Remus' left arm, then threw him around. Remus stumbled, trying to stay standing, but landed on his stomach on the ground, mouth full of mud. He didn't dare move. It was the first time he had felt…anything since…
"Your little friend died, did he?" Fenrir said. The werewolves laughed. Remus stuffed his entire face in the mud and held his breath. Shit. "I see, he did, I see he did," he nodded. He turned. "Pettigrew doesn't seem as broken up. I'm beginning to think it's because his alliances – "
Remus muffled a reply through the mud, "Imduffedicamedtuf."
"What was that?" Fenrir said, cupping his ear, his claws threateningly curved. All Remus saw was the brown mud in front of him, engulfing him. He wished he could stay there forever, but Fenrir hoisted him up by the scarf, and the crowd broke in deep chuckles. Fenrir picked up the tip of Remus' scarf and wiped the mud off his face, still laughing.
"Killed by his own cousin," Fenrir continued. He watched for a wince.
Remus nodded, swallowing hard. "He deserved it," he said shakily.
Fenrir raised an eyebrow. "Of course he did. He was trying to defend a Headmaster of a school, a Ministry with the intentions of leaving Wizarding society flawed and…weak. He deserved the veil he fell behind. Did he not, Peter?"
Peter stepped out from behind him. Mage was patting him on the back, smirking at Remus, and chugging a bottle. Numb. Numb. Numb. "That he d-did," Peter said, nodding. "He was not faithful to the right coordination. He should have been smart." Peter's eyes locked with Remus'. His throat went dry. "You seem upset, Moony."
Remus blinked away tears, and looked at Fenrir again. He could not bear to look at the fat, balding man in front of him. Fenrir was almost comforting compared to the rat and he was sure that if he looked at him any longer, his twisting stomach would take hold and he'd break down. Crack. The numbness of self-sedation was being to wear off.
"He was too weak," Remus said.
Fenrir smirked, a strange smile spreading across his face and showing his sharp, pointed teeth, blood stains on the crooked ends. Remus tried hard not to flinch. "Very," Fenrir said. He stopped short. "As I was saying the other day, your alliances to which side you are on has failed to be proven to me, pup."
Remus stood still, his entire weight being hung in the air by his arm that Fenrir was gripping tightly. He felt outside, a class he was failing in, this obvious sadness in his voice at the approval, an innocent man on trial. Fenrir snorted.
"Prove it. Next full moon. You're leading the pack. If you're not there, if you're…chained," he said, disgusted. He looked Remus up and down and dropped him, nodding, spinning away for Remus to fill in the blanks. The rest of the werewolves seemed to die away too, and Remus sat on the ground, trying to push away the words he had just said.
Sirius Black was not a coward. He was not weak. He was his best friend and now he was dead. He sighed, trying to get up, but his entire body was sore. A laugh behind him made him jump and gasp.
"I can't believe he's dead. I always thought he would live forever. Weird," Peter said, stepping forward. He smirked. "Glad you joined us, Remus. Your skills can be really useful to us."
Remus nodded, turning away, getting up and walked as fast as he could from the man, but he was following him. Remus' stomach churned and hot acid went up his throat. He coughed, gagging, then turned around to Peter, shaking. He did not know what was bringing him to be so sick; he had more than enough days since the next full moon, but the image of Sirius' eyes becoming lifeless was too much. Tonks had to be devastated…
"If you don't mind Pet – Wormtail," he corrected himself, swallowing a wretch, "I'm a bit tired." Peter nodded, then sat down on a log, looking tried as well. Remus hid his clenched fist in his pocket, shaking with anger.
Oh, Peter. How could you?
"I'm tired, too, Rem," Peter said, a smirk crossing his face. "I heard you had therapy with Severus Snape." He burst out into fits of laughter, his fat in his body giggling and Remus sighed, digging his fingernails into his hand, trying desperately not to glare…to tame the beast.
"Yea," Remus said, trying to sound friendly. You killed them. You killed James and Lily and now Sirius is dead and you don't even care. How could you do this? After all those years of friendship…
"Remember when you tried to kill me in the Shack, Remus?" Peter said as if they could forget.
"I was…mislead," Remus said simply, then tried walking away again. Sirius' face appeared in his mind and he knew he must look so…deranged. He could feel the bags underneath his eyes, the purple from his insomnia that had been with him ever since he had been bitten. 'The thing with insomnia is, you're not asleep, but you're never really awake.'1
"That you were, wolf," Peter said and Remus froze. Even now. Peter's breath made Remus straighten and he knew that Peter was right behind him, his chilling iced air making goosebumps pop on his exposed skin. "You know, you never struck me as a…bad werewolf."
Remus closed his eyes, "I didn't know – "
"We're the last of the Marauders, you and I. The werewolf and the Death Eater."
1 A quote from 'Fight Club', one of my favorite movies. Ever.