Chapter Sixteen

Chained to the two aurors, Sirius found himself apparated straight into a dark corridor at the Ministry of Magic. The walls and floors were built of thick, impenetrable stone and flaming torches hung on brackets on the wall - creating eerie, flickering shadows. Their footsteps echoed as he was dragged along by his captors.

They reached a heavy wooden door, with a small barred window in it, and came to a stop. Proudfoot took out a huge keyring - and selected the largest, most tarnished of all his brass keys. The door was unlocked and opened, with a great creaking of hinges, and Sirius was shoved inside. 'In there,' Scrimgeour growled at him.

He stumbled - the aurors pointed their wands at the chains that bound him to themselves and vanished them. 'Right to the back,' Proudfoot said to him.

Still bound in the ropes Snape had tied to him, he shuffled his way to the back wall. 'This is all a -' he tried to say.

'Shut it, Death Eater,' Scrimgeour snarled.

Once Sirius was against the back wall, they vanished his ropes so he could move about more freely in his cell, and then the heavy wooden door was slammed shut. It made a loud clanging sound which - like their footsteps had - echoed down the corridor, reverberating back to Sirius and sounding twice as loud.

Then came the sound of the key turning in the lock - and then the sound of the auror's footsteps walking away, getting more distant. And then Sirius was left alone.

...

But only for a moment. He had barely had time to look around his dark and dank prison cell, taking in the fortress like walls and the solid floors; the fact there was no window and that the only light came from the flaming torches outside in the hallway - when there was a flurry of activity and Shacklebolt and Dawlish apparated into the corridor, Remus chained between them.

Sirius ran to the door and peered out through the bars, 'Remus!' he called as he saw his friend bundled past - catching just the most fleeting glimpse of him, of his pale skin and frightened eyes, the gag still tied around his mouth.

And then he couldn't see them any more - but he could still hear, and he knew that the whole party had come to a stop at the holding cell next door to his own: that they would be going through the exact same routine of unlocking the door, unchaining Moony, sending him to the back before releasing the last of his chains and then locking him inside the dungeon.

Sure enough - he heard the same commands, the clink of chains as Remus struggled to the back of his cell - and then the door slam closed; that same ringing sound of despair that seemed to reverberate through Sirius' very soul.

'Are they sending for a dementor?' he heard Shacklebolt ask - as the two aurors walked away. 'Are they being transported right to Azkaban?'

'Yes and no,' Dawlish laughed - and it sounded like a sneer. 'Savage was putting through the paperwork while we made the arrests - they'll be tried later today … and then they'll go straight to Azkaban.'

Their voices grew quieter - as they grew more distant - and then there was the sound of a distant door slamming … and then there was silence.

...

Sirius closed his eyes. 'Remus?' he hissed. There was no answer from the cell next door. 'Remus, can you hear me?'

But if he could or not - there was no answer.

'I'm sorry,' he said. He put his hand to the cold, stone wall - laying it flat and imagining Moony on the other side - doing the exact same thing - so they would be touching if not for the wall. 'I'm sorry I thought you were the spy. I never stopped loving you, Remus - you have to believe me. I'm sorry I got it all so wrong. I'm sorry I've ruined everything… but I will get you out of this. I won't let them harm you - I won't let them punish you. I don't care what they do to me, but I'll make sure you go free. This is all my fault, but I said I would keep you safe and I will. I will protect you, Remus - I promise.'

But there came no reply, not even a whisper of sound, from the next cell - and Sirius was unsure as to whether this meant Remus could not hear him .. or did not forgive him.

Although it was early, Dumbledore was already behind his desk. His fingers were steepled, his eyes were dim behind his half moon spectacles and his heart was heavy.

Severus stood before him - flushed with his triumph. 'They were taken away to the Ministry at approximately half past eight this morning, and I returned to you,' he finished up his report.

'Thank you, Severus - for returning so promptly. For finding them so quickly …' Dumbledore sighed, 'though I wish none of this had proved necessary.'

'It was my pleasure - I'm glad to see the pair of them face justice.'

'Yes - justice. A necessary step… Though there can be no real justice for James and Lily - or little Harry. No length in Azkaban can bring them back, give Harry back what he has lost… Or you, Severus. I do not forget that you have lost as well. That nothing can make these circumstances right.'

'A lifetime with the dementors will certainly be a start.'

...

Dumbledore sighed again - and then reached out and picked up an envelope. 'I've had a letter from the Minister for Magic, already. Bagnold is talking about giving you the Order of Merlin First Class for your efforts.'

Severus flushed with pleasure.

'Well - thank you for all your work, Severus. I would not have trusted it to anyone else. Thank you for finding them - thank you for returning. You need not teach today, it would be too great an ask. Spend the day recuperating. I assume you will be at the trial later tonight?'

'I have been asked to recount my finding of them - yes.'

'Then I shall see you there … and we will see how fair a trial it proves. Well, I'll not keep you any longer. Send Alastor in for me, will you - and then go get some rest.'

...

Severus nodded his head, turned and crossed the room. The large doors swung shut behind him - and then a moment later, they opened again and Alastor Moody clumped in on his wooden leg. He held little Harry Potter in his arms.

'Well, here he is, Dumbledore - all in one piece. I had Madam Pomfrey check him over - there seems to be nothing wrong with him. Whatever Black and Lupin were up to, they seem to have kept the child safe and sound.'

'Yes … I wonder at that, still…' He forced a smile and reached out to take the baby. 'We can thank heaven for small mercies.'

'What do you intend to do with the boy?'

The smile faded. 'The same as I always intended to do with him, to keep with my plan from the night Lily and James died. I will place the child with his mother's family and keep him within his mother's protection. There is old magic at work, Alastor and - though talented young wizards Black and Lupin may have been - this is a type of magic that will require Lily's muggle sister. Only she can keep the boy safe now.'

'Safe from what?' Moody growled, his magic eye whizzed around in his socket - peering through the back of his head and out through the wooden doors to check they were not overheard. 'Voldemort's gone - Death Eaters are being rounded up. The boy is safe, isn't he? We all are … as safe as we can ever be.'

But Dumbledore shook his head, 'you - of all people - cannot believe that, Alastor. Safety is so fleeting, and Voldemort was too dangerous, for it to be anywhere near as simple as it all being over. Now Harry has already been snatched once by Voldemort's loyal followers - I must do all in my power to make sure the Death Eaters do not get another crack at him.'

'Well - I'll leave you to your preparations. I'll see you later, at the trial?'

'Yes - yes … The wizengamot gathers at seven.'

'Then I'll see you then … this is a good result, Dumbledore. Black and Lupin captured, Harry retrieved - we can all sleep sounder in our beds tonight. Today is a good day.' He walked away - the steady thunk of his wooden leg following him across the room until he was out of sight.

...

Dumbledore sighed again - he tried to raise a smile for the little boy held in his arms. Yes, he supposed today was a good day … but that did not explain why his heart was so heavy.

Sirius did not know how long he had been in his cell. There was no way to measure time in here. It was dark and silent and there was no way of telling if it was the middle of the night or the middle of the day. Being underground, as the Ministry was - and he could tell from the damp he was very deep underground - it was not even possible to track the movement of the sun in the sky - and so guess at the time that way.

It was just stillness and darkness - and the sucking void in his chest, guilt and fear and worry for Remus.

...

After what seemed like hours - but was perhaps only minutes later, he really had no idea - he heard the sound of a distant door opening and closing, and his ears pricked up. Then came the sound of footsteps - two sets of them; one a steady tread of heavy boots; the other a light and hurried tapping of high heels.

'Is this it?' He heard a high and girlish voice ask, 'is this where they are being kept?'

'Right in here, Madam Umbridge,' he heard Kingsley Shacklebolt's measured tones reply.

After a moment, he saw Kingsley's face appear at the bars. 'Get on your feet, prisoner,' he barked.

Sirius did as he was told. 'Kingsley - please - this is all a big mistake…'

'Quiet!'

...

He heard a petulant foot stamp just outside the door. 'Oh - I can't see him - the window's too high.'

'Here you go, Madam Umbridge.'

Sirius wasn't sure what happened, but presumably Kingsley must have conjured her some kind of step - because suddenly a woman's wide, toad like face appeared in the window, peering through the bars. She wore a ridiculous bow in her short, brown hair - and a satisfied, gloating smile on her wide, froggy face.

Sirius ignored her. 'Please - Kingsley - it doesn't matter about me, but Remus - he didn't do anything. Kingsley - you can't let them …'

'Quiet,' Kingsley barked again. 'You have both earned your places here, Black.'

...

'So - this is Black, is it?' Toadface said. She looked far too old to have a voice so childish - and her excitement at peering in at him was making it flutter in delight. 'Such a shock. A scandal. I wonder what Walburga must think…' She shook her head sadly - though the smile on her face never wavered, and she actually looked like she was having the time of her life. 'But it is the way with so many of our ancient, pureblood families … so many of their younger generations are ending up in Azkaban now. This one is just the latest of a long line. And no doubt more of his kin will join him yet.'

'The aurors office is dedicated to hunting down every last Death Eater,' Kingsley told her evenly.

'Show me the other one,' her voice became an almost guttural whisper, choking on its own excitement. 'Show me the beast, the halfbreed.'

...

Umbridge's amphibian face disappeared from the window. Sirius heard the footsteps as they walked the few steps to the next cell. 'Kingsley-' he tried again. He rushed to the door and peered out. 'Please-'

'Silence him,' he heard Umbridge say - and then he felt a sudden wooshing feeling wash over him. He opened his mouth but no sound came out.

...

There was the noise of heels taking a step up - and then an intake of breath; thready and excited and trembling just a little. 'That's him? The wolf?' Umbridge asked. 'That's really a werewolf in there?'

'That is Remus Lupin,' Kingsley agreed.

'And we know he's a half breed for sure?'

There was a slight pause '... we know he is a werewolf.'

...

Even locked in his own cell, Sirius could hear Umbridge's heavy breathing - as she seemed simultaneously terrified and excited, swinging between disgust and delight. 'A half breed' - her voice trembled again, fearful but also gleeful … Sirius could imagine the whole of the squat little witch trembling, just like her voice was… enjoying so much staring at something that she was so very afraid of, but that was caged where it could not harm her.

Where he could not harm her. Because the thing which was both fascinating and frightening her - just by its existence - was not a thing at all. It was Remus.

...

'Prisoner, on your feet,' Kingsley shouted … And Sirius closed his eyes and imagined Remus standing up … wondering if he looked up, looked Umbridge in the eye - or if he kept his head hanging low… No, surely Remus would stare her straight in the eye. Surely he would stand there proudly, proving to her he was a man and not a monster.

'It isn't wearing any clothes,' Sirius heard her breathe - still that fluting, trembling note of disgusted excitement. 'Apart from underwear - it hasn't any clothes.'

'No - that's how we found him.'

'Well…' she gave a little laugh that made Sirius want to punch something. 'I suppose an animal has no need for clothes, does it?' And there was no missing the sound of actual pleasure in her voice now, like looking in at Remus, locked up and half naked, was giving her an almost physical sense of satisfaction.

...

Unable to yell, because of the silencing charm still affecting him, Sirius slammed his hands as hard as he could against the wood on the door - over and over again to demonstrate his fury. That she would dare - dare - talk about Remus like that.

But the pair outside the door seemed unimpressed - didn't even pay him any attention.

...

'He's a hideous, hairy, brute of a thing isn't he?' Umbridge was saying. 'Look how broad his shoulders are - I bet he's strong. Animal strength. And look at all those scars … is that where it attacks itself during the full moon?' She gave that horrid, tinkly little laugh again. 'You would think something as ugly as that - even an animal - would want to cover up. Would want to hide its monstrosity. He'll turn the stomachs of the wizengamot - his body is offensive to look at - all those scars disfiguring him.'

...

Sirius pounded on the door with his feet and fists this time, wrapping his hands around the bars and ragging at them in an attempt to display his anger.

He imagined poor Moony, listening to the horrid old toad's spiteful, yet delighted words about him … He remembered - just last night, in the golden warmth of each other's arms - Remus not wanting Sirius to look at him, to touch him - because he was so ashamed of his scars… And he knew that - even if Remus had stood proudly up to this point, he would be caving into his own shame now.

And it seemed he was right.

'It's trying to cover itself,' Umbridge said. 'Can the beast understand us? - Does it understand English?'

Sirius kicked the door with all his might.

'Remus Lupin speaks perfectly good English, Madam Umbridge, yes.' There was just a note - a very slight inflection - of disapproval in Kingsley's voice … But Umbridge did not hear it. Or if she did, she did not for a moment imagine it was aimed at her.

'Well fancy that,' she exclaimed, '- you hear me, halfbreed? You're disgusting. A dangerous animal - and that is exactly how we will treat you.' Her voice suddenly became worried. 'It can't get out can it?'

'He is securely locked up.'

'Yes - well -' and again that flushed note of pleasure seeped into her voice, 'this has all been very informative. Thank you for showing them to me, Shacklebolt - tonight's trial should prove most edifying.'

And then Sirius heard their footsteps again - this time getting quieter - as the pair of them walked away. The distant door opened and closed once more.

...

He slammed his hands against the door one final time, and felt the silencing charm leave him. 'Don't you listen to her, Remus,' he yelled - still banging the flats of his hands against the wood. 'It's her that's disgusting. I won't let them treat you like this. I promise.'

Peter pulled the next form in front of him, scanned down the circumstances of the request and then gave it a rubber stamp; putting it in the 'maybe' pile to pass on to his boss - so she could either authorise or decline the use of a portkey.

Merlin, but today was interminable. The work was interminable. His future was looking interminable.

Something needed to change …

...

The door to the office was pushed open - and a wizard from the apparition office came tumbling through looking excited. 'Have you heard the news?' he yelled into the quiet room.

Everyone looked up, looking puzzled.

'They've been caught. Black and Lupin - they were caught this morning. They're in the Ministry right this minute - they're going to be sentenced to Azkaban later tonight.'

...

The whole office flew into uproar - witches and wizards jumping to their feet and gathering around the messenger demanding more news … So no one looked at Peter, amid the chaos.

If they had, they would have noticed that all the colour had suddenly drained from his face, leaving his skin the grey, pasty colour of three day old porridge. And then - just as suddenly as he paled - he flushed bright red and broke out in a sweat, little beads of perspiration forming on his brow.

On hearing the words, Peter had felt suddenly sick - a jolt in his stomach, like missing a step in the dark and falling down. He felt himself frozen, just aware of the bile rising in his throat … and then that was replaced by molten panic sweeping over him. His stomach cramped and he felt the sudden need to make a mad dash to the toilet.

...

They were here. In the building. They were caught. Which meant they would talk … which meant…

He jumped to his feet. 'I need to get out of here,' he said - and his voice burst from his throat too loud, making everyone stare. His words gabbled out of his mouth, all jumbled up and his tongue tripping over them.

His colleagues looked at him. He stared back at them. And then he just ran for the door, pushing past them all and scurrying away from the office as fast as his short legs could carry him.

...

Back in the office, his colleagues all looked at each other.

'Well - they were his best friends at Hogwarts.'

'All this has been very trying for Peter.'

'And he's been so very brave about the whole thing, poor dear.'

'Yes - poor Peter - to be reminded he was once friends with those awful people. And on his first day back - as well!'

Remus sat huddled in the very back corner of his cell, his knees were drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them - though he cringed away from contact with his own skin. He tried not to think of what that squat, little, toad lady had said about him; what she had called him; how she had looked at him.

He tried not to imagine the whole wizengamot gathered in the courtroom looking at him that exact same way. Tried not to imagine being taken before them half naked and seeing both their disgust and amusement … He would be treated like an animal. That's what Umbridge had said. That was all they saw him as … and that was how they would treat him.

Though he tried his best not to think about that.

...

He tried not to think of them seeing his scars - of everyone from Ministry officials, to reporters at the Prophet, to nosy members of the public only there for the show seeing his ugliness; seeing the bumpy, crawling lines criss crossing his body, showing where he attacked himself every full moon … like the beast they all thought he was. He tried not to think of the reporters taking photographs - of his scars ending up in the paper for every witch and wizard in the country to gawk at. And he knew that, like Umbridge, they would all be both horrified and fascinated by him.

But trying not to think about everyone else's disgust only made him remember Sirius - last night - kissing him, touching every scar and saying they were beautiful. That he was beautiful. And he didn't want to think about that - because remembering last night hurt even more than being here, being sneered at and called a beast and a brute and a halfbreed by high ranking members of the Ministry, who really should behave more professionally - even when faced with a creature like him.

Every so often he would hear Sirius bang against the door and call out to him - telling him he was sorry, telling him he would fix it, telling him that he, Sirius, would not let them treat Remus the way they were already treating him.

...

Sometimes Sirius could be so naive. He had no power here. He had no power to make things right, or to make the wizengamot listen. He had no power to stop the Ministry from treating Remus like any other werewolf found guilty of endangering humans.

Perhaps Sirius was too used to being a Black - too used to having standing in the community, to being listened to - to power and influence. That was all over now. He was a criminal - less than nothing. His name and his money wouldn't save him, and it certainly wouldn't save Remus … though perhaps Sirius did not yet understand that.

Remus understood. He was all too used to being nothing - less than nothing, being seen as worthless. An outcast to be mistrusted and avoided. Werewolves were treated even worse than the very worst criminals even before they had done something wrong. Remus was used to being powerless. And as he sat huddled and half naked in his prison cell, no wand and no way out, he knew he had never before been quite as powerless as this.

...

He still tried not to think about it - any of it. Not even the hurt in his heart that Sirius had once believed he was the spy … or the hurt in his heart that they had been fighting when they had been arrested - torn apart before they could talk things through.

He was hurt - of course he was - and he was angry with Sirius and he knew that, no matter what his friend claimed, his suspicions had still come from a place of prejudice. That even after all their years together, Sirius was still prejudiced against him.

And that hurt - more than Umbridge's prejudice, more than the thought of the entire wizengamot's prejudice ...and the fear he had of facing them, without even proper clothes for protection.

Sirius' prejudice hurt worse - because Sirius mattered . In a way the others never could. But even with all that hurt - the way it stung at his heart ...he would still have forgiven him one day. They had the rest of their lives after all - or they had just a few hours ago - and he loved Sirius and Sirius loved him … of course he would have forgiven him in the end.

But they had been arrested and separated before he had time to work through his anger… and that hurt worst of all. To be torn apart from each other when they were already torn apart - and with no way of finding their way back.

...

And so he sat there, trying not to think - trying not to feel - and cringing away from the touch of his bare skin as that only served to remind him of what was yet to come…

...

He looked up, suddenly, hearing the key turn in the lock - and began to shrink back- worrying it was time …

The door opened - and Kingsley was standing there, staring in.

Remus pressed himself flat against the wall, working out whether he was going to fight, or if he was going to let himself be taken - walk into court with as much dignity as he could muster … Even if the wizengamot would do everything they could to take it all away from him.

...

He caught Kingsley's eye - they stared at each other for a moment … and then Kingsley threw something soft and heavy at him. He reached out and caught it instinctively.

'Spare robes,' Kingsley said to him. 'I took them from the Magical Maintenance Department. Put them on, cover yourself up.'

Gratefully, Remus pulled the robes over his head; they fell in soft folds over his body - hiding his bare skin and his brutal scars at long last.

Kingsley turned to leave.

'Thank you,' Remus said.

The auror stopped in the doorway. 'I didn't do it for you,' he said - and his voice was not quite as even as it normally was. 'I did it for the man that I thought was my friend.'