Day Two

James curled tightly into a ball.  He was thoroughly exhausted. He was beginning to believe that they'd never let Sirius sleep.  Though the screams from the next cell had subsided, his best friend had not fallen silent.  He was still crying with the pain.  Every time James would almost think that Sirius was about to get a rest, an ear-piercing shriek would shatter the quiet, and it would begin again. 

So cold… so cold.  James shivered as he tried to pull his robes tighter around him.  He dutifully tried to stay awake, to listen, to bear witness, but his ordeal had drained all his energy.  His eyelids betrayed him as he fell into sleep.

James was walking through a garden path.  Sunlight filtered through the flower laden trees, and he could hear laughter from up ahead.

"Lily!  Harry!"  He picked up speed to catch up.  He could see them sitting there, on their picnic blanket, taking food out of a basket.  Harry couldn't be more than three years old, peering into the basket to see what there was.

James cleared the trees, and sat down on the blanket.  He took the plate that Lily handed him, and picked up the sandwich that was on it.  The sandwich disintegrated into ashes at his touch. 

"Lily?"  He looked up.  Lily and Harry were both still there, lying perfectly still on the ground.  Spills of red hair sank into the ground as the world faded around him. 

His tried to whirl around at the sounds behind him, but his feet had rooted into the ground with his wife's hair.  Everything was the same flaming red.

"JAMES!" 

"Lily… I can't move… I can't save you…"

He awoke with a start as Sirius shrieked again.  Damning himself for falling asleep, James pulled himself upright.  Hugging his knees, he listened as the worst of the cries died down again.  Images of red hair haunted him every time he closed his eyes.

All around him, the cries continued.

"JAMES!"

"Lily…"

"Daddy…"

James tore himself loose and ran wildly toward the voices.

When his eyes snapped open again, James cursed himself once more.  Finally resigned to the fact that he had to get some rest whether he liked it or not, he curled into the corner and tried to shut out his mind.

The red became more vivid.  It changed from the color that he knew so well from years of caressing Lily's hair to a much fiercer red.

Laughter.  Cold, high-pitched.

"James!  Save me!"  The high-pitched voice was mocking him. 

Falling.

James grasped the air to try and find something to grab onto.

He landed hard on cold stone.  The red coalesced into two points as Voldemort started striding toward him.

"Save me, James."

"I can't move."  James lay on the ground at odd angles, certain that his back was in at least three pieces.

"You're broken, James, of course you can't move.  Only I can move you."

James found that there were strings attached to his joints.  He was lifted up off the ground.  His broken bones made him shriek in agony, but there was no one that cared.  Music box music reminiscent of a circus began to play.  An invisible hand began to work the strings jerkily, forcing James to dance to the music.  Voldemort clapped in delight.

The sugared music played on, and the puppeteer manipulated the strings faster and faster until James was whirling faster than he could comprehend.  The colours that swirled around him moved with sickening speed.

The music stopped.  James found himself staring down Voldemort once more.  The strings caught fire at Voldemort's intense gaze.  Free of the manipulating strings, James fell to the cold stone.

Rising to one knee, he looked up at his adversary.  The circus music started to play slowly and quietly, one music box note at a time.  Voldemort extended his hand, as a lover might extend a hand to his fallen companion.  James took the hand and rose to his feet.  As the music picked up speed and volume, the pair began to dance.  The music mutated into a waltz as James and Voldemort flawlessly fell into the three-step pattern.

Around and around they danced.  "My James."

"Yours forever." Dreamy.

"JAMES!" A shriek.

"Lily?"  Confusion.

"Forget her."  A cold but oddly comforting command.

"Forget who?" Hazy.

"Exactly."  Self-pleased.

"Look who's sleeping so peacefully.  Isn't he so cute when he's sleeping?"  James woke with a kick to the side.  He realized that he'd been screaming when the breath of cold, stale air he drew in hurt his throat.  The world was still hazy through heavy sleep laden eyelids that did not want to open.

"Wakey, wakey, Jimmy."  A giggle.  Another kick, this time to the stomach. Had his mind been alert enough to register such a complex thought, he would have thought the little bit of sleep he'd gotten wasn't enough to restore him.  Slowly, he opened his eyes.  He immediately knew that it was a mistake.  The cell came into view just in time to see two Dementors float into the room.  He was not awake enough to fight them. 

The memories surfaced as soon as the Dementors roughly picked him up by the arms. 

Harry ran out the door to investigate the source of the bright tinkling music.  The major pitfall of living in a Muggle neighborhood was the little things.  Things like ice cream trucks.  Ice cream trucks and four year olds mixed, be they Muggle children or wizards.

"Harry!  Come back in the house!"  But it was too late.  No one except James saw the man that appeared out of the shadows.  James rushed out of the house, running with all his Auror's speed to reach his son, but he was not in time. 

It was a week before they rescued Harry, barely alive.  It was almost a year before the scars healed.

"Come back…"

James half registered his legs dragging along the stone floors as he was hauled down the corridor, and forced into the Interrogation Chair once again.  Although he was expecting the burning chains this time, it did not keep him from crying out when they wrapped around him, or from choking when they wrapped around his throat.

  When the Dementors retreated, James opened his eyes; a grain of him glad that he wouldn't be expected to move in his half-awake state.

All thoughts of sleep fled his mind as Sirius was dragged in.  The Dementors dropped him in the doorway.  Rabastan Lestrange dragged him the rest of the way in the room. 

"Dear, dear.  It doesn't look like you've slept very well."  Rabastan laughed a hearty laugh.  James didn't think that he'd ever heard that sort of laugh from anyone except large men that had their jolly smiles permanently etched onto their round whiskered faces.  He was highly disturbed to hear it here and now.

"He hasn't slept at all, brother." Rodolphus' eyes gleamed.  He addressed Rabastan, but he looked at James when he spoke.  "His cell's charmed.  Suspended Cruciatus.  He falls asleep, it kicks in.  No sleep for the wicked, as they say."

James bit his lip.  It was all he could do not to curse them both for speaking so gleefully. 

Sirius whimpered in pain as Rabastan lifted him by his bound arms and inspected the bindings.  Frowning, he tapped the chains with his wand.  They glowed and shifted position.  Sirius gasped as they tightened, pulling his arms even farther behind his back.  His broken shoulder creaked in protest, and Sirius finally gave a howl of agony.  The chains dimmed and settled as his elbows met, his forearms pressing firmly into each other.

"Stop it!"

"Manners, Potter.  Manners.  This is a spectator sport, not a participatory one.  Rodolphus, if you would?'

Rodolphus pointed his wand at the ceiling, and a new chain grew from it, firmly embedded in the stone.  Link by link, it formed.  As soon as it was long enough, Rabastan lifted Sirius up onto it, expertly binding him to the end of it securely.

"There.  That's a better view, now isn't it?  Easier access, don't you agree, brother?"  Rabastan let go of his burden and Sirius began to swing and turn like a pendulum, letting out a small whimper every time he changed direction.

"Oh, quite, brother."  Rodolphus walked over and gave Sirius a push on his broken right shoulder and he began to spin wildly out of control.  He shrieked with the pain.

The door opened and shut almost without James noticing.  A third figure joined the two brothers.

"Oooh, it's almost like a piñata, isn't it?  Do you think there's good candy inside?"  Bellatrix pushed Sirius in the other direction, causing new, louder screams.  "Humph.  I think this piñata's broken.  I don't like toys that are broken.  I think we'll have to try a little harder to get at what's inside, or I shall be very upset.  Besides.  It makes such wonderful noises."

Drawing her wand, she cried, "Verberovox!"  James was unfamiliar with that spell, but the effect was immediate.  A long thread of glowing energy extended from her wand, growing in size until it was at least six feet long and thick and twisting as a serpent.  Taking his cue from her, Rodolphus repeated, "Verberovox," and his wand in turn formed the same thick cable of energy.

Bellatrix was first.  "Is there any candy to be found?  Let's find out, shall we?"  She flicked her wand, and it cracked like a… like a whip.

No.  Oh, no.  Not that.  Not that.

Bellatrix clearly knew what she was doing.  The whip sped and cracked clear across the dead center of Sirius' chest, eliciting fresh cries of pain.  Again, and again the whip cracked.  Rodolphus moved around behind Sirius.  His whip landed across the back of Sirius' legs. 

Husband and wife soon had Sirius spinning and swaying in patterns, his shrieks falling into similar patterns.  Rabastan applauded.  Each crack of the whip was perfectly timed to catch the arc of a swing or twirl of the body.  Blood soon started to fall to the floor. 

"Ah, there's the candy I was looking for."  Bellatrix dipped her finger in the flowing blood, and licked it clean.  "Sweeter than wine, cousin.  But then, I never had a taste for wine."

She walked up to Sirius, gripping his shoulders to still his swaying.  Dipping her fingers in blood once again, she stroked his cheek gently, leaving a red streak there.  "Rabastan, I believe it's your turn?  Turns are only fair, after all.  I just want one last crack at him.  I do believe that my dear cousin looks better with some color in his cheeks, don't you?"

Stepping back, Bellatrix drew her arm and let her whip fly.  It landed perfectly on the streak of blood she'd made on Sirius' cheek.  New blood, fresh blood, cascaded down his face as he screamed.

"There you are, Rabastan.  All yours."  She retreated back and waked over to James.  Leaning over him, she asked, "Would you like some candy?"  Bellatrix put her bloody fingers to James' lips.  He pursed them, eyes wide with panic.  "Oh, come now.  It's very good."  She painted his lips with the blood, and sat down on his lap, giggling when she felt his muscles tense.  "Let's watch the show, shall we, Jimmy?"

James bit his lip.   He regretted it immediately when he tasted Sirius' blood there.

"It really ought to be quite the show.  Rabastan never had my flair for aim, but he can't be faulted for sheer strength.  The speeds he can get that thing to, it's incredible."

The resounding shriek that pierced his ears confirmed Bellatrix's words.  James grimaced.

"Isn't he amazing?"  Bellatrix absent-mindedly began to play with his hair.  James tried to jerk his head away, nearly choking himself with the effort.  "There's nothing quite like seeing two brothers playing so nicely together, is there?"

Turning her attention to James, she patted him on the cheek.  A spark of fancy seemed to take her as she snatched his glasses off his face.

"My glasses… I can't see…"  James flicked his eyes left and right, but everything had been reduced to blurs and swirls of color.  Somehow, the sounds of the continuously swishing and cracking whips and the screams of his friend seemed heightened. 

"How do you see through these things?  They're so strong!"  Bellatrix's voice, even, took on a different quality.  It seemed to echo in his ears.  "And so dirty!  Didn't your mother teach you to clean them?"

He could hear her spit, and could only assume that she was cleaning them.

"You killed my mother."

"Did I?  It was such a long time ago.  You probably don't want to see this anyway.  There's quite a lot of blood.  Just listen to those screams.  And I'll tell you a little secret."  Bellatrix's voice dropped to a whisper, and James could feel her breath on his ear.  "Personally, I hope you don't break yet.  I'm enjoying myself entirely too much with him to let you end it all too quickly.  But everyone breaks in the end, Jimmy.  Even you."  The last two words were so quietly said; James would almost have called them intimate.  The thought made him ill. 

Just as his stomach started to turn, the room grew very cold.

Not now, oh, God not now.

"Bellatrix, leave our honored guest alone.  You have other things to attend to."  The cold voice cut right through James.  Bellatrix stood up and bowed low, though James could not see it.

"Voldemort."  His eyes tried to force the world into focus through sheer strength of will.  He took in every sound with intense concentration.  Sirius' screams drowned out any smaller sounds he might be able to hear.  He was completely blind, and Voldemort was remaining completely silent.

Minutes passed in silence that was broken only by the crack of the whip followed by a shriek.  James could hear the blood dripping on the floor.  It felt like hours. 

"Where are you?  You're there.  I know you're there."  He could take the tension no longer.

"Impatient little whelp, you are.  I'll have to teach you patience."  James couldn't tell where the voice was coming from.  It seemed to come from inside his head and echo off the walls at the same time.

"Rabastan, Rodolphus."  The whips stopped.  "A history lesson is in order.  But first things first."

James flinched when he felt a cold hand slide down the side of his face.  In his head, he could hear a faint music box play a waltz.  Every part of him froze into ice.  The defiant words formed on his tongue instinctually, as an act of sanity, though he knew that they were anything but sane.  "You're a lousy dancer, Voldemort.  My cat waltzes better."

The hand stopped at his chin.  "Resorting to school boy insults, are we, Potter?  I thought you were above such things."

James breathed again.  He didn't know what had possessed him.  But Voldemort hadn't understood.  Relief flooded through him. 

"As much as I'm enjoying all this, you're here to see."  The hand brushed over his eyes, pausing there before moving on.  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the world came into focus as his glasses were put back into place.  They weren't quite adjusted properly, but at least he could see.  There were red smears on the glass where Bellatrix had spit on them.  She'd still had blood in her mouth when she'd done it.  There was a definite fingerprint in blood on the left lens.

The first thing to come into focus was Voldemort's face.  James closed his eyes.

"I said you were here to see, Potter.  Open your eyes."  The serpentine face came back into view as James obeyed. 

"Rabastan.  From the looks of things, you're the one that hung him.  It looks like your work."  Voldemort looked Sirius up and down.  James could hardly bear to look at his friend dangling from the ceiling so precariously.  And to hear Voldemort discussing him like a piece of art.

"Yes, my Lord."  Rabastan bowed his head, smiling.

"Then why is he so… comfortable?"

James' breath caught.  This couldn't be good.  Tears were flowing down Sirius' face from the pain he was in, and Voldemort was calling him comfortable?

"Look at him.  Well, we can't have him dying of blood loss.  We'll have to fix that before anything.  Constosanguim."  The blood stopped flowing from his dozens of wounds, congealing at the source.  Before lowering his wand, Voldemort regarded the links of the chain supporting Sirius.  With a swish of his hand, one of them dissolved, sending Sirius crashing to the floor.

"Stand up, Black."  Sirius didn't move. 

"He said, stand up, Black."  Rabastan kicked him squarely in the chest.

"Make me."

Rodolphus took a hand full of hair and pulled his head up.  "My pleasure."  He hauled Sirius to his feet.  As soon as he let go, Sirius fell again. 

"Leg broken… arms bound… off balance… you try… standing… that way…" Every word was thick with pain, but the defiance still managed to come through.

Stop, Sirius… stop… you're going to get yourself killed…

Pulled to his feet once more, Sirius managed to find his footing, though James marveled that he didn't fall a third time.  Wordlessly, Voldemort manipulated the hanging chain until it was just long enough to attach to the bindings at his wrists. 

"If you know your history, they once did this to wizards.  Just for being wizards.  Fitting, isn't it?"

Bellatrix was the first to light up.  She looked at Voldemort, and getting a nod from him, drew her wand.  The chain retracted into the ceiling with startling speed, wrenching Sirius' arms up behind him.   His shoulders cracked audibly as the joints dislocated.  Bellatrix dropped him back to the floor as he screamed.  The floor was still slick with his blood.

"Stand up, Black," Voldemort commanded again.

"Ma… ke… me…"  Sirius was breathing heavily.

The chain was shortened just enough to drag Sirius to his feet.  Voldemort drew his wand.  James shrieked when he saw him conjure weights at Sirius' feet.  "No!  You'll kill him!  You'll tear him apart!"

"Oh, look.  Potter has something to say.  You can stop this, you know.  You know what you have to do.  Are you willing to do it yet?"  Voldemort seemed amused.

James looked at Sirius, whose face was set.  No, it said.  He hated himself for doing it, but he held fast.  "No."

The chain retracted into the ceiling.  The scream was deafening.