Remus

He stumbled backwards into the space where the chair had been. But – no, he didn't feel like that, one part of his brain clamoured. Voldemort was watching him; smiling and watching him. "The truth is a dreadful thing," he murmured but Remus did not hear him; too locked in the tempest of his own mind. This couldn't be happening.

In the beginning he had thought the plan was working. As Severus and Dumbledore had predicted Voldemort did not bother questioning him with legilimency. Remus was a skilled Occlumens and even had he had not been, there are certain defences that evolve naturally when one is a werewolf; non magical ones that merely involve concealing from everyone possible, who and, more importantly, what you are. If Voldemort had probed Remus' mind, doubtlessly he would have been able to penetrate it eventually but the process would have been long and irksome to him. Above the fire was a large cauldron and from this a goblet was withdrawn and passed to the Dark Lord who held it out to Remus. "For my piece of mind," he suggested, with a smile, as if he trusted Remus implicitly but merely – wanted to be sure.

It was at least half full, silver and coiled with snakes that writhed beneath Remus' touch as he took it from Voldemort, careful not to touch the long, corpse white fingers. Voldemort's red eyes watched him eagerly and, though he could not see them, so did the eyes of the Death Eaters gathered around him. Remus drank and felt the veritaserum rush through his system. Voldemort smiled again like Remus was and old friend, who had been missing a long time but had, now, returned, and beckoned him forward. The Death Eaters moved backwards and revealed a second chair opposite their lord's in which he was clearly supposed to sit. It was the twin of Voldemort's and incredibly uncomfortable; the Dark Lord seated himself with subtle grace and regarded Remus thoughtfully. "Tell me why you want to become a Death Eater," he ordered quietly and Remus told him.

Minutes of intensive questioning followed this and it was with a powerful surge of relief that Remus eventually rose to his feet with Voldemort. He looked somehow sad, as if Remus' story had touched him and filled him with pity he had not felt before. He extended his long fingered hand to the werewolf. "You're life is indeed been filled with tragedy, my friend," he said sorrowfully. "I promise you if the means stand open to me I shall take them at any cost to ensure your future happiness." He stepped closer and Remus stepped with him, until they stood together in the circle of a ring of Death Eaters. "Now, take my hand and call me brother. Your new family awaits you."

Remus' eyes met the ones opposite his; the eyes of the most evil man in England if not the world, and saw writ in them, sadness. He took the offered hand and his body spasmed in rebellion as the horror inside Voldemort tried to seep through his skin. Remus fought back the urge to run and the tremors and managed two words: "my brother."

Surely, he thought headily, Voldemort was about to release him but he did not.

"It is time, my Lord," a voice rumbled.

"Thank you," Voldemort murmured. "Now Remus, why don't you tell me again why you want to join my family." All the pity in his eyes seemed to have fled; he did not let go of Remus' hand. "It touched me so deeply the first time that I simply must hear the story again."

And Remus wrenched his hand away.

"I can't join you. I will never join you" he panted, backing away into the arms of the two Death Eaters who had stepped forward in order to retrieve him.

Once again the sadness filled Voldemort's face. "No, I did not think you would." A long finger caressed the edge of Remus' face, filling him once more with inescapable agony. "It's a terrible thing to be lied to Remus," he said softly as Remus skin writhed away from his touch. "You tried to join my family under false pretences but," he lifted Remus' chin with one finger so that the werewolf was forced to meet his eyes again, "I am willing to forgive you. Just tell me what I have to offer you for the offer of your friendship to be real."

"I can think of nothing," Remus spat.

Voldemort withdrew his finger. "I know you cannot," he said simply. "Fortunately, I have thought of it for you, or rather, to give him credit where credit is due, your friend Wormtail has provided you with a means of entering my family. He would not, it seems, see you die." Remus felt his eyes swing involuntarily to the man with the silver hand; he looked so much taller here: shrouded in a black cloak, hidden by a white mask. "Remus," Voldemort murmured again, "what are you feelings on Sirius Black?"

Remus felt hatred explode inside him but the answer rushed up to his mouth. "He was my-" It was as if time had slowed down. Let me say 'friend' Remus thought. 'Best friend,' 'Lover' even; anything that suggested even a hint of impartiality but the veritaserum was singing in his veins and the answer welled up unbidden. "Soul twin," Remus said miserably. "He was the part of me that had always been missing."

"I know," Voldemort said. "It must be terrible to be without him, but what would you say if I told you I could bring him back?"

"You can't bring people back from the dead," Remus exclaimed, horrified. "It's not possible."

"It is," Voldemort assured him. "I can bring back Sirius Black, the other half of your soul, if you take my hand once more." The Death Eaters clutching Remus' arms fell away and he was left standing in the centre of the circle with Voldemort once more. "Tell me truthfully Remus," the Dark Lord said. "What would you give to have Sirius back?"

"Everything," Remus voice said.

He staggered backwards.

Everything? He'd give them the Order? Give them Harry?

Give them his soul?

For Sirius.

No, it couldn't be tr-

But it was. Veritaserum never lied.

Strong hands gripped him as Voldemort said, "I'll leave you to think about it Remus. My offer still stands."

Remus tried to say "I'll never join you," but the words stuck in his throat and all he could manage was a faint moan of agony. Voldemort smiled sadly and Remus knew that sooner or later he would give in; he would give anything just to speak to Sirius one last time and it terrified him.

"Malfoy," Voldemort called, and another man stepped from the ranks and approached his lord respectfully. Voldemort spoke softly to him, and handed him a similar goblet to the one Remus had been presented with. The man removed his mask revealing shimmering silver hair and drank from it before speaking briefly, bowing to Voldemort once more and leaving. Throughout the exchange Voldemort kept his eyes on Remus and, now, finally, he nodded and the Death Eaters tore him away from the crimson gaze. As they walked, Remus stared blankly down at the hands supporting him. Neither were silver. Peter was obviously still part of the gathering around the fire, but the hand gripping his left arm was covered in a series of tattoos that were horribly familiar.

"August?" Remus gaped as they deposited him in the walled garden just behind the main courtyard and bound his legs and arms with cords. Like Snape did in the Shrieking Shack, Remus thought and wished he hadn't as he remembered the scream of rage that had followed from Sirius. August did not reply, he merely turned on his heel and followed his companion towards the archway that separated them from the courtyard. "But Dumbledore trusted you," Remus yelled after him. He felt like adding 'how dare you be a Death Eater; how dare you put me in this position!'

August turned slightly and though he was wearing a mask Remus could almost see his smirk. "As you said yourself," August growled, "the old fool's getting senile." He turned and left.

Remus sat in the darkness and thought.

Through the wall he could hear the sounds of the meeting. Voldemort, perhaps inspired by his success, had decided to distribute the veritaserum among the rest of his Death Eaters to gauge their loyalty. In any other circumstances Remus was sure he would have found it fascinating to hear the innermost thoughts of these men who had sold themselves to abomination. Indeed it still was to a certain extent [under truth's influence he heard one of them say "Hey guys, I'm going to the bathroom. Okay?"] but now every veracity uttered reminded him of his own.

"What would you give to have Sirius back?"

"Everything."