Chapter 4:
"Crucio!"
Remus stood silent and still, showing no signs of the agony running through his body. But Voldemort kept his wand pointed at his chest, the pain only increasing the more Remus struggled to ignore it. His blood burned within his veins and his muscles writhed beneath his skin, trying to force his body away from the invisible threat. His lips pulled back in a silent snarl and he sank to his knees, finally surrendering as he threw back his head and let out a howling scream that echoed against the marble walls.
He knelt there, staring at the ceiling, throat bared and sucking great gasps of air through his clenched teeth as Voldemort finally released him from the spell.
"I grow impatient with your ineptitude, wolf," his Master hissed. Remus swayed where he sat but didn't allow himself the luxury of falling to the floor. He opened his mouth to give some excuse, some explanation for why he hadn't been able to get the information his lord wanted. But the vague words died on his lips as Voldemort's voice cut him off.
"Get out of my sight," Remus let his head fall forward and looked into his Master's face. In it he saw the revulsion and disgust he remembered so well from his years at Boubatou. It's always the same, all humans are the same he thought, too jaded to be sad and too tired to be angry. Why hadn't he been able to see that side to Voldemort before? He nodded and stood slowly to his feet, walking with as much pride as he could muster as he exited the room with the eyes of every single Death Eater in the Inner Circle burning into his back.
He managed to get halfway to his rooms before his legs gave out again and he fell to the floor.
He sat there, leaning against the wall of the corridor as he tried to silence the memories that pounded for attention in the back of his skull.
Monsieur Lourete taking his parents money before shoving him into the main hall of Boubatou and announcing to the whole school that he had so graciously decided to let a loup-gouru attend his esteemed academy. Living with the constant bruises and silver burns from his fellow students and trying not to choke on the scent of the Wolfsbane many of his classmates had taken to stuffing their pockets with.
It went on and on in his mind, every slight, every contemptuous look, every time a human had flinched away from his touch.
"Are you alright?" a voice said, breaking through his thoughts. His head whipped around and he snarled at the person who had spoken to him. His eyes cleared of their angry haze enough to see Snape backpedal and slam into the opposite wall. He forced himself to his feet and stumbled down the corridor, offering no explanation or apology for his actions. And slammed his door with what little force he was capable of before collapsing into either unconsciousness or true sleep, he couldn't tell and didn't care.
He awoke hours later to a dark room and a headache pounding a steady rhythm on the inside of his skull. He stood and stretched, sore muscles protesting as he crossed to the window and pulled back a curtain only to be assaulted by the harsh light of the gibbous moon. He stumbled back, his headache redoubling its effort to crack open his skull.
He growled to himself. His body always did this; in times of stress or overexertion he would sleep all day and wake at night. Remus, personally, wouldn't have minded all that much if he'd just gone completely nocturnal. But humans just seemed to love daylight. Even Death Eaters, who did nearly all their work after dark, woke up at an obscene hour to plot and connive and spread useless gossip about each other.
And what ever else he was in addition to it, Voldemort was first and foremost a human, which unfortunately Remus had a tendency to forget. A human, and with a more than adequate share of human prejudices.
He rubbed at his eyes and walked over to his dresser, pulling out a box that contained his most prized possession. He put on the gloves that lay in the box and picked up the knife that lay within. It was beautiful, made of the purest silver, the blade was engraved with the phases of the moon in perfect detail and the hilt was inlaid with Diamonds and Moonstones.
Many Death Eaters took trophies from every person they killed, but Remus had only a few. And every single one of them had been taken from either Ministry pay rolled 'Dangerous Creature' executioners or freelance werewolf hunters who killed innocent people for something they had no control over.
That had been why he had joined the throng of Voldemort's supporters, at least at first. Being a Death Eater gave him the power to exact revenge from all those fearful human specters that had haunted his nightmares as a cub.
And as he continued to stare at the knife all his vain hopes and stupid idealism suddenly became laughable. He had joined the Death Eaters because they had let him do what no one else would, get revenge on the human race for everything they had put him, and all other werewolves through. But in truth he was really only helping one group of human bigots to depose another.
He dropped the knife back into its box and stripped off the gloves as he began to pace the room. Remus let his thoughts go back to his prisoner and how he was making Remus life so unpleasant at the moment.
Black was amazingly strong willed, pain may make his scream, but it never made a dent in the man's resolve. He would probably scream his throat bloody as Remus flayed every inch of skin from his body and still he wouldn't say a word to even hint at the secret he kept behind his closed lips.
Remus entertained the idea of doing just that, but quickly cast it aside. Black would go into shock fairly quickly, and Voldemort would skin him alive if Black died. And as satisfying as it would be to see the Dark Lord through a hissy-fit over Black's death, he wouldn't let Remus live to see the next moonrise, and he wasn't too fond of the idea of dying just yet.
He really couldn't understand why Black was doing this. The only person Remus had even vague loyalties to was Voldemort, and he would spill everything he knew if he was ever in a situation like Black's. It rankled him that he had no idea what was making Black essentially lay down his very life for people who would probably never know what he had been through to protect them.
It had been nearly a month since he'd brought Black in, and he had no more information about the Potter's than he'd had when he began his interrogations. He snarled to himself in annoyance. In a way he could understand what Voldemort was doing to him. In catching Black when the humans could not, he exceeded his authority, and had given him this near impossible task just so he could watch him fall and be put back into his place.
As much as they would be loath to admit it, the Death Eaters functioned much like a pack, with Voldemort as the Alfa and Remus having the unfortunate luck of being an Omega. But Remus really didn't care if he'd overstepped his bounds, in fact he was beginning to be disgusted by the whole lot of them.
His mutinous train of thought was broken by a knock on the door and he stalked over to the door and yanked it open.
"What?" he snarled. He'd worked himself into a foul enough mood not to care if Voldemort himself was at the door. But, unfortunately, it was only Snape there to bother him yet again. "Yes?" he prompted when all the human did was stand there staring at him in shock and smelling slightly of fear.
"Our Lord wishes your presence," the other Death Eater finally said, backing away from him.
"What is wrong with you, you're not usually this spineless." Remus spat out.
"Your eyes are glowing," Snape said simply, though he did stand up a bit straighter at Remus' barb. Remus sighed and rolled his eyes as he figured out what had set Snape's nerves on edge.
He hadn't bothered to light any torches, so the room behind him would be pitch-black to a human. All that Snape was seeing was the torchlight from the hall reflected in his pupils. "humans…" he muttered under his breath.
"Tell our Lordship," he said mockingly. "That I am interrogating the prisoner and that I refused to let you bother me and was unable to get your message."
"But you're not!" Snape said in protest, looking quite shocked, but lacking the righteous anger at disobeying their 'esteemed' leader that Remus had expected.
"I will be in a minuet, and who's to say I haven't been there since sunset?" he said, smiling wide enough to ensure that his canines glinted in the dim light of the hall. And with one last mocking smile he closed and warded his door and pushed past Snape and down the hall.
It took him less than a minuet to be standing in front of Blacks cell door wondering if he'd gone insane. If Snape reported any of his behavior to Voldemort he was as good as dead. But frankly he was beginning to think that might be a blessing.
He closed the cell door, locked it and then leaned back against it, letting all the pain, weariness and anger that were eating at his body show through his usually ridged control. He didn't even look at Black, instead closing his eyes and truly enjoying the deathly peacefulness of this glorified cage.
The silence stretched taught until finally Black spoke.
"Well?" his once rich voice was by now little more than a croak from too much screaming and not enough talking.
"Well what?" Remus countered, eyes still closed, the cold of the steel door sinking into the muscles of his back.
"Aren't you going to talk? Threaten? Hit me?" Black asked. Remus snorted and shook his head.
"I'm not here for you," he said quietly, letting himself slide down to sit at the foot of the door. "This is the only place where they will leave me alone." He finally opened his eyes to see Black staring at him, confusion and mistrust warring to be the dominant expression on his battered face.
"What do you mean?" he asked tentatively. He looked like he expected him to leap up and strike him at any moment, and on any other day he would. But not today, he was too tired for that game.
"If I'm in here with you, they think I'm doing my job," Remus said, sliding down the door to sit on the solid rock that made up the floor. "I don't get bombarded with insults and orders and cruciatus spells in here." For some reason his comment made Black laugh, a dark humorless laugh that sent chills down his spine.
"That's funny, that's all I do get in here," he said once he'd gotten himself under control again. Remus had gotten so used to not hiding his emotions in front of Black that he didn't even realize the regret and guilt that was plain on his face until he found himself clamping his teeth on a verbal apology. He shook his head to clear it and turned away from Black's piercing stare.
Remus tried to order his thoughts, to focus on what he thought he was doing. He'd gone down there to hide from Voldemort and his lackies, but what was he doing, why was he being so nice to Black?
"If you hate being out there so much, I'd be willing to trade places with you," Black said casually, distracting Remus from his thoughts. He turned back to stare at him incredulously.
"An interesting idea," he said not quite sure what to make of the suggestion. "But I don't think you'd make a very good Death Eater."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Black said, his cracked lips forming the slightest of uneasy smiles. They sat in silence for a while before Black seemed unable to stand the silence anymore.
"If this is some sort of new way you think will get me to talk it's not going to work," he said, glaring at Remus as if he were trying to bore a hole in him with sight alone.
"Ah, yes. I'm trying to drive you mad with useless drivel and boring conversation," he said, not bothering to hide his amusement. "Shall I start reciting the one thousand completely useless uses for Floberworm skin? Or would you prefer an in-depth explanation of the nature of Centaur hoof care?" Remus congratulated himself on actually making Black laugh, though why he thought that was a good thing escaped his reasoning at the moment. After a few moments Black's mirth died out and he stared at Remus again.
"You're really not here to pummel me?" Black asked incredulously.
"Nope," he said. "But I would appreciate it if, when someone walks by, you'd scream or curse or something. Just for good measure."
"Um…okay…" Black said, still not looking quite convinced, or maybe he was just questioning the sanity of his captor, Remus couldn't quite tell which. "Why are you hiding in here?" he asked after yet another uncomfortable pause.
"I basically just told your friend Snape to tell Voldemort to go fuck himself," Remus said, smiling mirthlessly. "So I'm just waiting here for the others to come and drag me to my funeral." Black just raised an eyebrow.
"You'll forgive me if I don't believe you," Remus just shrugged, he didn't really care if Black believed him or not.
"Why are you doing this?" Remus asked suddenly and at Black's confused look he elaborated. "What's so special about this Potter person that you feel the need to protect him like this?" Black's eyes narrowed.
"I'm not talking about James to you," he spit out, looking like Remus had somehow betrayed him.
"It can't be because he's your lover," he continued, not deterred in the slightest by Black's reaction to the change of topic. "He's married, isn't he? I doubt his wife would put up with something like that."
"I doubt someone like you would understand," Black said, staring at the wall of his cell.
"Someone like me? A Death Eater, you mean?" Remus asked, but Black shook his head.
"Is there anything that you believe strongly in, so strongly that you would fight for it? Die for it?" Black asked. Remus sat there, trying hard to think of anything that made him feel the emotion that he saw flickering behind Black's eyes.
His sudo-crusade to better the lives of werewolves by killing off those who hunted them? No. He did that more to be rid of the childhood fears that the existence of such humans instilled in him that for any loftier ideal. Really the only thing he'd give his life for would be…Remus sighed and bowed his head at how utterly childish he truly was. But he now understood Black a bit better. To be accepted, to be thought of as an equal, for his Lycanthropy to be seen as a part of him, but not all that people ever saw him as. He would die for that, or to protect it, if he ever did find it.
"Yes," he said at last, not all that thrilled to learn that about himself. Black looked surprised but nodded.
"Then imagine all that embodied in one person," he said. "And that's why I'm do this."
"And James Potter really means that much to you?"
"James? No," Black said, shaking his head. "I love James. Like a brother!" he added at the look Remus was giving him. "But I'm doing this for my Godson."
"Your godson?" Remus asked, looking confused. Black nodded.
"James' son, Harry," he explained. "He'd be…What's the date today?"
"May 15," Remus said numbly. The Potters had a son?
"He'd be nearly two years old now. I wonder if he even remembers me?" He said, more to himself than Remus, who continued to stared at him in shock. "What?" Black finally asked.
"I just didn't realize the Potter's had a cub, that's all," Remus said, feeling slightly ill. Killing children had never sat well with him, but Voldemort rarely left them alive to mourn their parents' death. So Black was protecting a cub, that made more sense to Remus than any of the theories that he had been batting around.
"Cub?" Blacks voice brought him back to the present.
"I meant child," he said quickly, mentally kicking himself. It was slipups like that that made people begin to wonder about him. He tried to train himself to think of thing differently, but it never worked.
"But you said cub, why?" asked Black, looking at him quizzically.
"I meant child," he repeated, annoyed with himself for that slip up and annoyed with Black for pushing the issue. His mother had called him 'cub' when he was little and he always forgot that most humans didn't refer to their offspring that way.
Black just sat there staring at him like he were a puzzle and Black couldn't find where to put the last piece in place.
"What are you?" Black finally asked. Remus sighed and smiled humorlessly but didn't say anything for a long moment. He just looked up to met Black's gaze with his own and let the wolf closer to the surface than he normally would. Black stared at him for a moment, considering, trying to putty that last puzzle piece in place.
"Are you a vampire?" Remus was so completely thrown by that question that he sat there staring dumbly at the other man for quite a while before throwing his head back and laughing.
"Is that a no or a yes?" Black asked, looking at him warily.
"No," Remus said, amusement still evident in his voice. "I am most definitely not a vampire." He was smiling and he couldn't help but notice that Black was staring at his teeth.
"You're not human." He said definitively. "I figured out that much a while ago."
"No, I'm not human," Remus confirmed. Black just sat there quietly, watching him, waiting for him to speak. But when if became obvious that Remus wasn't going to say anything more he asked again.
"What are you?"
"From a human's point of view, you were close to right," he said at last. "They tend to lump werewolves and vampires in the same category. Mostly because they were both human once and now they're not."
"You're a werewolf," Black said. It wasn't quite a question, but Remus still nodded in assent. He looked up to see how the other man reacted to it, thinking he knew what he would find. But Black looked, of all things, morbidly impressed. "I'd heard that Voldemort was getting werewolves to join his ranks, but I never thought that bigoted bastard would let one into his inner circle."
"He didn't know I was a werewolf until I was already in the inner circle," Remus countered grimly. Musing that he really should have realized that the Dark Lord prejudices were not limited to muggles after what he'd done to Remus when he'd found out.
"Why'd he let you stay?" Black asked.
"He would rather suffer a werewolf among his most trusted followers than admit to anyone that he hadn't been able to tell what I was on sight," he said, contempt dripping from his words.
"Why haven't you just left?"
"Being a Death Eater is a great deal like being a werewolf, they only 'cure' for it is death," Remus said. "Neither will let you just leave its curse behind. What?" Remus stopped his verbal musings at the look on Black's face. Your life had to be pretty bad for someone in Black's position to pity you.
"You're as much a prisoner as I am, aren't you," he asked. Remus glared at him for a moment then just let himself slump further against the door.
"Maybe," he admitted quietly. "But if we really are in the same position, then, as morbid as it sounds, why haven't you just killed yourself?" Remus asked. Black pulled a face and shrugged.
"The Fidelius Charm brakes if I d…" the whole world seemed to pause for just a moment as Black's words stuttered to a halt. Remus turned to look at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. Black looked back just as shocked and quite definitely terrified. He looked at if he were about to say something when a sharp knock reverberated against the cell door.
Remus leapt open in surprise and pulled the door open without thinking. On the other side stood Lucius Malfoy, one of the highest ranking, and most vicious, Death Eaters in the circle.
"Lord Voldemort summons you," he said coolly. He looked past Remus to the prisoner he was supposedly interrogating. Remus tensed nervously, hoping that Malfoy wouldn't notice anything amiss and that Black wouldn't give anything away.
"Well, he certainly looks terrified. What did you do, threaten to eat him?" Malfoy asked, laughing at his own cleverness. Remus forced himself to smirk.
"Something like that," he said, struggling to put back in place the mask of confident vicious predator that the other Death Eater was accustomed to seeing. "Shall we?" he asked, walking out of the cell and closing the door behind him. He didn't even spare Black a parting glance.