(Thanks for not flaming too badly. Sorry, but I have been very evil writing this. But I have an 'excuse'! When I wrote this, I really didn't feel well. Plus I had too much homework. Or I had had one of the worst days ever. I was not a happy bunny, and my muse Annie Hermione helped me with this … she is good when you need to inflict pain.)


Chapter 25 – Snakes, Scars and Sorrow

Remus woke up again. He could remember being hit by Death Eaters with stunning charms once he and Sirius were dressed. Suddenly, he looked around desperately until he saw Sirius, who was staring past him at something behind and above his head. He turned and froze.

It was Lord Voldemort. He was sitting on a high throne that was designed to look as though it was made of a thousand living snakes. Or maybe it was made of a thousand living snakes; Remus didn't know and really didn't care. Whatever it was, it made him feel sick to the core. The Dark Lord himself was swathed in a long dark green robe with a hood that shadowed his face, but his eyes gleamed evilly from the shadows. His fingers were long and thin and almost bone-white. They were idly stroking a very real, poisonous green snake.

"Ah, so good of you to join us, gentlemen," he said, his voice echoing. Sirius turned and saw what a huge room they were in. It was octagonal and on each wall was a large black door flanked by two black-robed Death Eaters. Above four adjoining doors behind the throne were long windows through which dim sunlight streamed. There were also torches flickering above the heads of the Death Eaters, illuminating the room. The floor was made of cold black marble flecked with white, and the walls were panelled with something black – probably ebony. Apart from the throne, which was set against the wall furthest from the largest door, there was no furniture in the room.

Sirius looked back at the Dark Lord and stared at him, sidling closer to Remus. The werewolf was shivering. /It's OK./

/No it isn't … what's he going to do to you? He could do anything …/

Voldemort stood. "Where are Lilly and James Potter?"

"Go to hell, Voldemort! I'll burn in Satan's pit before I tell you that," Sirius said firmly, his eyes flashing pure hate. Voldemort shrugged and sat again. "You will tell me eventually. Malfoy, Black. Take them to the cells and let them rot for a while."

Malfoy and Regulus approached from the shadows beside the throne and grabbed Sirius and Remus before they could protest, dragging them through the largest door. They were taken out of the throne room and into the rest of a large castle, made of dark wet stone. Regulus, who had taken Remus, cringed every time he looked at his brother as though expecting him to lash out with his free arm. There was little decoration, but moss grew in the corners and the walls were slowly turning green from the damp.

They were led down some steps and into a long corridor lined with doors. Small, weak voices called plaintively from some of the cells; Voldemort's prisoners. Remus and Sirius were pushed into the end cell. It was lit by a single window, too high to reach but barred anyway, and a torch that lit itself automatically when it got dark and did not burn flesh. Or so they were told, at least. There was a double bed with clean white sheets opposite the door, but that was the only furniture.

They were pushed inside and left to their own devices, after being told food came twice a day, morning and night, and there was a tap and two cups for water in the corner. Once the Death Eaters were gone, Remus sat down on the bed and took a deep breath. Sirius walked over and slid his arm around his mate's shoulders. Remus burst into tears. Sirius rocked him back and forth gently until he stopped crying. Then they waited.
2 days later

Sirius leant against Remus, watching as the light from the dying sun, shining through the cell's barred window, deepened from gold, through crimson and into darkness. Suddenly, the door was opened for the first time since they had been sent to the cell; food was pushed through a small hatch at the bottom. Regulus and Malfoy stood in the doorway. Sirius stared at them levelly. Malfoy snapped his fingers and beckoned to Sirius. "You. Come with us. We have tried to be civil; now you will see the Dark Lord's wrath."

Sirius stood, ignoring Remus' whimper of protest and the whispers in his head, and walked to the door. Malfoy grabbed his arm, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. Regulus took his other arm, more gently that Malfoy, and he was pulled out of the cell. Remus shut his eyes and rested his head on his chest, hoping with all his heart that Sirius wouldn't be hurt too badly yet knowing that when he returned he would barely be able to move.
Sirius was towed down several long corridors, heading downwards all the time, until they reached a large stone room decorated with several mouldering, green tapestries and a few torches. The floor was slightly sticky and in some places completely covered in moss. On one wall was a row of shackles. All were for hands, though some included ankle, waist and neckbands to ensure total immobility. Near the wall was a table and a brazier. On the table was an assortment of items, most of then sharp, all of them designed to cause pain. Sirius noticed a large selection of sharp knives, thumbscrews and many other things he was sure he would soon find the use of.

Malfoy and Regulus bowed, forcing Sirius to do the same. While Sirius' head was down, the back of his neck prickling as it was exposed, the Dark Lord himself swept out of a shadowy corner of the room. When Sirius was forced back upright, he took in Voldemort very quickly. He wore black and green robes; he was tall and had an almost emaciated look. His face was skeletal, his eyes seeming huge in the sunken sockets. His nose consisted of two snakelike slits, and his mouth had no lips. His hair was greasy black. Around his neck and across his shoulders hung a fat black snake that shimmered green in the torchlight. When he spoke, his voice was high-pitched and slightly poisonous.

"Put him in the shackles nearest the brazier."

Regulus and Malfoy muttered a quick, "Yes, Lord," before shoving Sirius towards the wall and fastening the handcuffs around his wrists. On principal, when they moved away, he gave the chains an experimental tug. They were totally firm. He looked across at the hot coals next to him. The heat from them was just enough to make him uncomfortable, and the proximity to the table was disconcerting.

Voldemort walked over until he was standing right in front of Sirius. His snake slithered to the floor and curled around one of Sirius' feet, almost protectively. Voldemort kicked it, and it hissed in annoyance, rearing as though to strike. Voldemort hissed at it for a long moment, speaking Parseltongue, and it slowly slithered over to Malfoy. He picked the snake up and placed it back around Voldemort's shoulder. The snake lay still, watching Sirius through large, almost kind black eyes. Sirius had no idea why the snake had done what it had, and he was sure he would never find out, but he silently thanked it for delaying the torture for another couple of seconds. Finally, Voldemort turned his attention back to Sirius. "Tell me the location of Lilly and James Potter."

"No."

"I will spare you if you tell me."

"Sorry, I thought I just said no, did I mishear myself?"

Voldemort lashed out with the flat of his palm, slapping Sirius across the face. It was surprisingly weak. Sirius winced but otherwise did not move. The Dark Lord scowled and hissed, "You will tell me eventually, if I have to torture it out of you."

Sirius shrugged as best he could with his hands chained above his head. "Do what you like. I'm not going to tell you where they are, Tom."

Voldemort gave him another pathetic slap. "You will call me Lord, or you will die."

Sirius smiled. "But your name's Tom Marvolo Riddle. You're not 'Lord' anything. You're just a disgusting little upstart with a grudge against his father."

Voldemort screamed in rage, grabbed a knife from the table and slashed it down on Sirius' shoulder. The animagus gritted his teeth against the pain, closing his mental bond with Remus as the werewolf fought to take some of the agony. Voldemort then stuck the knife up to the hilt in the coals in the brazier. "Just wait, Mr Black. You haven't learnt the meaning of pain yet, and I am about to teach you."

"No, I know the meaning of pain, Tom. My parents hate me because I don't agree with them. My brother hates me because I get to inherit everything because I'm older than him. I've been betrayed by someone I thought I could trust, as have all my friends. Every one of my best friends has hated me at some point – especially Remus. Now that hurts. That's torture. Nothing you could do to me could compare with how I felt with Remus hated me. So do your worst to me. Kill me, maim me, scar me for life – and see if I care. I swear to you, Tom Riddle, there's nothing you can do to me to make me scream."

Voldemort pulled the hot knife from the brazier and held it up next to Sirius' face so he could feet the heat. "We'll see, shall we?"

Slowly, slowly, slowly he lowered the knife against Sirius' skin, just on his jaw line. Sirius' eyes screwed shut against the ache, his teeth grinding. He turned his head away from the knife, but Voldemort just followed. The acrid stench of human flesh charring filled the room. Then the Dark Lord pulled the knife away, his non-existent lip curling in distaste. Sirius still hadn't made a sound. The animagus collapsed against the wall, breathing heavily.

The Dark Lord stuck the knife back into the brazier and picked up a small, circular item with a wicked spike sticking off it. He asked, "Where are the Potters?"

Sirius laughed. "You think I'd sell them to you? I'm not a sneaking traitor like Wormtail."

He reached out and ripped Sirius shirt off him so his chest was bared. He placed the point of the probe just above Sirius' collarbone directly under his right ear, where one of his neck muscles stretched under the skin. Sirius leaned back against the wall. Voldemort hissed, "Tell me and I'll make it stop."

Sirius shook his head. Voldemort put his palm to the flat end of the probe and started to press down. Sirius' breathing speeded up rapidly, as pain started to well on the point. The skin broke and, after a few seconds, blood started to bead around the instrument. Sirius looked into Voldemort's eyes and ground out, "I'm not going to tell you."

The probe was now so far into Sirius' flesh that it would stay in him if Voldemort took his hand away, as he did now. Then he slammed the palm of his hand back into the end. The spike drove almost its entire length into his neck. His whole body jerked, his heart pounding fit to burst. He snapped his eyes shut, his face contorting into a mask of agony. The hurt was so focused, so intense, it set the neurons in his brain on fire. Every nerve was suddenly on edge. But he didn't make a sound.

Then someone started to twist the barb. Sirius' muscles, already clamped down on the metal, started to rupture as the metal ripped past them on its way from his body. This torture was intense, even worse than when the spike entered him. The movement was slow, almost leisurely. He tilted his head back, his eyes opening to stare at the ceiling, his mouth hanging open as he panted for breath. Voldemort gripped the spike tighter in the tongs and started to pull back and wriggle it around. Sirius gasped in pain as Voldemort jerked his arms back and the spike was wrenched out of his flesh and muscle.

Sirius' chin collapsed onto his chest, his breathing erratic. Voldemort used the bloody spike to move his hair away from his ear so he could whisper, "Had enough yet?"

Sirius turned to face the Dark Lord, getting a smear of his own blood across his cheek. "Bring it on, you great mudblooded nancy."

Voldemort dropped the spike, simultaneously yanking the knife back from the brasier and holding it close to Sirius' chest. Then he brought it down onto Sirius' skin. Not only did it cut the skin, but sealed it by burning the flesh. The smell and sound of skin burning filled the room. Slowly he scored down Sirius' chest, bringing the knife round to curve across his stomach. Sirius grunted in pain, closing his eyes again and biting on his tongue until blood filled his mouth. He felt sick. The smell of his own skin burning was almost enough to make him throw up.

Finally Voldemort lifted the knife from his skin. Sirius spat the blood out, right into the Dark Lord's face. Voldemort yelped and then slash at Sirius blindly with the knife. He caught Sirius' arm, scoring down his upper arm with the lukewarm knife. Blood started to trickle sluggishly down Sirius' arm. Voldemort, furiously scrubbing at his eyes, yelled, "Get him out! Away from here! Out of my sight!"

Sirius laughed, although it was pained. "I'm out of your sight already, you Muggle-born fool!"

Malfoy took off the shackles and Sirius fell to the floor. He grabbed Sirius' arm to tow him, but the animagus shook him off. He growled insistently, "I can walk!"

Using the wall as a support, he stood shakily. Malfoy grabbed his arm and dragged him away, out of the torture chamber.
Remus rubbed his eyes and tried to pull himself together. It would be no use if Sirius came back in a state and he was unable to see for tears. But he had felt that first shocking jolt of suffering Voldemort had inflicted, then he had been blocked so he had no notion of what was happening to his mate. Sirius could be dead, but that Remus could sense him. And he was getting closer.

He scrubbed at his eyes again and sat up on the bed, watching the door intently. It opened slowly and Peter stood in the doorway. Remus dived off the bed at him, rage filling every fibre of him, but Peter stepped back and Malfoy dragged Sirius into view. Remus froze.

Sirius' dark head was down, his eyes fixed on the floor, and he looked ready to collapse. Blood was dripping from the fingers of his right hand, and he could see dark rivulets of blood running all down his arm. He could also see the sealed cut on Sirius' stomach.

Remus felt sick. Voldemort had tortured his mate. He had made him bleed, and burnt his perfect skin. He had cut him and marred his faultless body. He had hurt Sirius. No one was allowed to hurt Sirius. He would pay for this.

Malfoy pushed him to the bed and then went away, closing the door behind him, leaving Remus stunned. As soon as the door closed, Sirius fell to his knees, leaning on the bed. Remus rushed behind him, his heart in his throat constricting every breath, and helped him onto the bed to see the extent of his wounds.

Blood was running fairly freely from the wound in his shoulder and more slowly from the one on his arm. He could see the heat-sealed wound down Sirius' chest and across his stomach. However, the last thing he noticed was the burn on the left of Sirius' jaw. He didn't see it until he reached over to Sirius' cheek and accidentally brushed against the burn. Sirius yelped and turned his head sharply away. Remus gasped when he saw it. The burn was shiny and red and was at least an inch wide.

"Oh, good Gods … Why …"

Sirius touched Remus cheek. "I can't sell Lil and Jim …"

Remus smiled and stroked Sirius' hair. "I'm glad you're my friend, Sirius. I'm glad you're on my side. I love you."

"How can you? Look at me. I can barely move, I'm going to have these scars forever …"

"It doesn't matter," Remus replied, bending to kiss Sirius' right cheek. "Not to me."

Then he lowered his mouth to the wound on Sirius' shoulder and started to lick away the blood. It was a crude, primal, animal thing to do, and Remus knew it was more the wolf's response than his own. He didn't care. He had read somewhere that saliva had some kind of weird property that helped cuts to scab and heal more quickly. After a moment's confusion and a weak attempt to push him away – Remus' low growl made him drop his arm to the bed again – Sirius accepted it. After a second, he raised his arm again, this time to hold Remus there. The werewolf's touch took some of the pain away, even if he wasn't allowing him through their mental bond yet to share it. Remus nuzzled into his neck and whispered, "I'd heal you if I had my wand."

"I know," Sirius murmured back sleepily. He was dead tired, although he knew most of the problem was probably the effect of shock. Remus kissed the spike wound. "You sleep now. I'll save you some of our food for when you wake."

Sirius didn't reply, except to make a small, sleepy-sounding noise and turn his head towards Remus. The werewolf continued the lick at the bleeding wounds as Sirius fell into a deep sleep until the blood flow ceased. Only then did he lie down beside his mate's pain-wracked, scarring body and try to sleep.
Twenty-four and a half hours later, Malfoy and Peter returned to Remus and Sirius' cell. Malfoy walked in and looked down his nose coldly at Sirius, who was leaning against Remus with a look of total hatred on his face. Peter stuttered, "M-my Master w-wants to know if – if you'll tell him where the Potters are o-or – or he'll – he'll tor-torture you again. Now."

Sirius shook his head, taking a deep breath. "He can torture me 'till the cows come home. I won't tell him."

Malfoy nodded curtly and strode over to the bed. He dragged Sirius to his feet and towards the door. Remus growled and leapt towards him. He slammed him against the wall and slammed his fist into his stomach. Peter grabbed him from behind and pinned his arms to his sides. Malfoy grabbed Sirius' arms again before he could do anything and pushed him out of the room, closing the door until it was open only a crack. Peter transformed into his rat form and scurried away. Remus leapt at him in an attempt to catch him, but Peter was already through the door and it was shut firmly and locked. Remus smashed into it, pounding on it with his fists until long after they were gone. Finally, he fell to his knees on the ground, sobbing.
(A/N: I don't know how I managed to be so evil! Please review. I LOVE all the nice reviews I've been getting for the last two chapters. Don't make me go back to begging – please, it's humiliating. But I will do it, if you don't review! This is the last post before I go on holiday to Italy. Can't wait! Anyway, you've got quite a wait before the next chappie – so you have plenty of time to send in reviews!! Please review so I have something nice waiting for me when I get back home! 'hints' shamelessly that she wants lotsa reviews Please? Adorable puppy-dog eyes. Decides to beg shamelessly Review?)