"When this is all over," Remus had said to him once, years ago. We're all going to go on the best vacation of our lives. We're going to get so far away from fucking England that we pick up foreign accents."
It had sounded like a plan.
He was not at all surprised when they came for him. Middle of the night, all in hooded black cloaks like this was some kind of witches' midnight dance party, or a trip to Hogsmeade after hours. Silly, but effective. Every time they pushed him down another flight of stairs, every time they spit on him, asked him a question, applied a nice fat Crucio, all he could think was- they're never going to get it out of me, because it's impossible. It gave him the ability to be downright cheerful about it. To see Voldemort and Co. make such an vast mistake was actually kind of refreshing. He told them so.
"Downright fucking refreshing." he said, as they beat him. Lucius Malfoy was apparently trying to break his cane over his back. Sirius glanced up through the blood, just long enough to add "Here, you missed a spot." Somebody clapped once for attention, and the sound reverberated around the room- one of those stone chambers, great acoustics. What a boring place to die. They left off hitting him, and he was wrenched bodily up off the floor.
"Sirius Black… the blood traitor." sneered the tallest figure. "Slowly, surely, I think you're beginning to understand… that you will die here, tonight, unless… unless…"
"Could you speed this up ?" Sirius paused to spit out a tooth. "I've got to be dead before the first of the month, or rent's due." There was a tense moment, then Malfoy cracked him another good one across the tendons of his already jellied knees and he sat down hard.
"Insolence." he purred, and bowed politely out of the circle, for his master to continue.
"Sirius Black, you are the Secret-Keeper. Reveal to me the hiding-place of the Potters, and I will spare your life. Perhaps even allow you to join my ranks."
"No." he said honestly.
"Reconsider. Crucio !" There was an arc of pain, white-hot, sweet at the core because Sirius was hoping please come on you pansies please it'd finally kill him this time. Convulsions followed, and consciousness, which was disappointing. He tried to mutter a curse, or even a dirty word, and found he could not, at the moment, locate his jaw. Fuck. Meanwhile, the firmly bolted door that Sirius had been eyeing earlier chose that exact stop in the action to do a wholly unexpected thing, and exploded.
"EXPELLIARMUS !" bellowed a familiar set of lungs, and most of the wands in the room wrenched themselves free and flew against the back wall. "STUPEFY !" came a second shout, and slightly over half the wizards surrounding Sirius went down with pained expressions.
"What in the bugger fuck is going ON ?!" Lucius Malfoy, wandless and yelling and incapacitated from the waist down, was crawling towards the dark lord in disgust. "SERIOUSLY ?!"
In the doorway, framed by a delicate smoke and the remaining shards of the door, was Remus Lupin, wand raised to the level of one's eyes, and all that rot.
"Let him go." he said.
"Er…" a fairly young witch, holding the first wand she'd retrieved, pointed it at him. "No ?"
"No." Voldemort repeated, without cracking that sharp, oily-silk voice. "Nice of you to join us, Mr. Lupin." Remus made an airy, disrespectful gesture, not removing his eyes from the speaker. He was in the prime of his power, and clearly barking mad as well.
"Pleasure's all mine, and so on. Let him go. He doesn't know what you're trying to get out of him." Sudden understanding dawned in Sirius' battered head. Me. Not Secret-Keeper. Remus… He made a brief and unsuccessful lunge, as his legs gave out.
"REMUS YOU PIGFUCKER ! I WILL KILL YOU AND-"
"Silencio." it was the werewolf's wand that charmed him quiet. Voldemort gave what could have passed for a friendly smile, amongst the dead.
"You've some skill. You're fast, faster than all of them." he indicated his recovering inner circle. "Join me. I've got more to offer a… man of your afflictions… than the rest of the world. Your talents could be put to use here. Imagine…" the cords of his voice wrapped themselves slowly around the young man's body, "…admiration, instead of scorn. Prestige, instead of…" the tattered elbows of his coat fluttered slightly. "I think you take my point." Sirius, pressed to the floor by more than a few boots, raged in silence when Remus gave a slight nod.
"I do. I'll consider your offer, after he's released."
"You've some affection for this man."
"Old friend. What can I say ?" the tilt of his shoulders was dangerous, mocking. "Weakness. I'm overly sentimental. Besides, he's not the Secret-Keeper. I am." There was a collective gasp from wizards picking themselves up off the floor. Sirius' eyes rolled back in his head, and it looked as if he were attempting to communicate with generations past, or else hex the scarred man into oblivion through sheer will. "So ?" Voldemort glanced at his scowling, sluggish troops, and nodded.
"Send him away." again the bizarre smile. "If he attempts to reach the Potters, their deaths can be easily blamed on this waste."
The grabbed him, and he fought valiantly for a man with so many broken bones, but it was clearly over. For all Sirius' raging, they held him like a child as a one-way portkey was thrust into his hands, a small, smooth object shaped like a handheld globe. His eyes sought his old friend's, and he was horrified to see a flicker of amusement circling the edges of his smile.
"Send him to Bermuda." Remus said faintly. "There's sharks." Bermuda ? Bermuda. This meant something. Bermuda Bermuda Ber- REMUS !
As he vanished into thin air, his lungs at last released and screaming in fury and grief at the trick, the last thing his disappearing eyes took in was Lupin turning his wand on himself and muttering "Avada Kedavra-"