Day Five
"James…" Again, he coughed painfully. "Don't…give him what he wants…"
James had swallowed. "I won't."
"Promise me." Sirius' blue eyes finally flickered open and met his with something very close to desperation. "I didn't come this far…to watch you give up everything."
"I'm not letting you die," he'd whispered, then swallowed again. "But I promise."
Sirius could hardly scream, now.
Day after day, James had watched his best friend tortured, and had hated his own foolish promise the entire time. Principles were beginning to fall by the wayside as he was forced to watch Sirius suffer, watched him grow weaker and weaker and struggle to not die inside. Somehow, he knew that despite the ten years Sirius had already spent in hell, this was far worse. His friend's tense form gave that away, and no matter how deeply Sirius tried to hide it, James could tell he was afraid. He was struggling and he was fighting, and it was obvious that Sirius would never give in—but he was in so much pain.
And James had watched, for five days, as the Lestranges tortured Sirius in every way known to wizard kind. He had watched, sickly, as they forced potions down his throat to keep him alive and revived him when he passed out from weakness and pain. All the while, Voldemort had only smiled, laughing softly and knowingly. The Dark Lord was waiting, James knew. Waiting for him to break.
But what had seemed like such a distant possibility five days ago now looked downright attractive. If it hadn't been for the knowledge that in two more days' time he would be able to save his friend, James knew for sure that he would have given in. Voldemort had been right about one thing: he loved Sirius like a brother, and he couldn't bear to watch him suffer. Watching Sirius die little by little was killing James inside…and there had been several moments when he would have given anything to save his friend, hidden wand and Portkey or no. This was going too far.
Sirius' painful struggle for air filled the silence. He lay on the floor, now, released from the hold of two Dementors and with Rodolphus Lestrange standing over him. Surprisingly enough, the Dementors drifted back, still present but obviously out of the way—however, that change was far from relieving, and a sudden sinking feeling developed in James' stomach.
Sirius lay on his side, half-curled into a ball, limp and shaking. James saw the blood trickling out from the corner of his mouth as he moaned softly. Though his eyes were only half open and unfocused, Sirius was obviously conscious enough to feel pain. He moaned again as Rodolphus kicked him over to his stomach, but James could see that he was barely registering anything other than the agony. Fear made him swallow, though James wasn't quite sure what he dreaded so much. On one hand, he was terrified that they would push too far and kill Sirius—but on the other, he desperately hoped that they would let him slip into unconsciousness and give Sirius even that small amount of peace.
Rodolphus kicked him again, but there was hardly any response. When he did a third time, all Sirius did was twitch. The Death Eater snarled under his breath, glancing at his wife. "Another potion?"
Bellatrix suddenly shook her head, raising her wand. "There are other ways, Rodolphus," she reminded her husband, stepping forward. "Crucio!"
Sirius gasped, but his reaction could hardly be called a scream by any means. His body jerked weakly off the floor, and it was clear that he had to fight to breathe through the pain. James struggled not to shout at Bellatrix while she held his best friend under the torture curse, only doing so because he had learned the hard way that he wouldn't be the one to pay the price for that. After a few moments, though, Bellatrix withdrew the curse and walked over to Sirius' side. Carelessly, she shoved him over to his back, intentionally kicking him in his broken right shoulder as she did so.
"Wake up, cousin." She chuckled as Sirius moaned in pain.
There was no further reaction, but when Bellatrix raised her wand again, Sirius flinched. She only smiled, turning to her husband. "I think he'll be suitably…attentive, now. Don't you?"
"Indeed." Without further ado, Rodolphus turned back towards Sirius, lazily pointing his wand at the helpless wizard. "Rumperis."
The tone had been mild, but the sickening crack the bone breaking spell caused was not. Sirius cried out, and James saw his body jerk as his left shoulder broke. But Rodolphus was far from finished, and his wand found a new focus on Sirius' left arm as he spoke the spell a second time.
They're not—James felt sick; he couldn't even finish the thought. But they were. Methodically, Lestrange broke bone after bone, smiling slightly as Sirius cried out in agony and his body convulsed in pain. All the while, Bellatrix only grinned, standing a few feet away from James and glancing at him from time to time.
"Did you think we'd stop at simple whippings and torture curses, Jimmy?" she mocked him gleefully. "Do you think this is the worst we have done?"
James didn't even look at her; he wouldn't give her the satisfaction. His eyes were still locked on Sirius, though he could not bear to watch. Even his friend's cries were weakening again, and now he was shaking erratically, alternately twitching and convulsing as if his body could not find the strength to cope with the pain. But Bellatrix leaned close to him, whispering in his ear.
"Do you think that he's not afraid?" she asked quietly. "He hides it well, but not well enough. And no matter how strong he is, he'll give in eventually. There will come a point when he won't want to hang on, where he just wants to die…"
Sirius screamed as Rodolphus cast the bone breaking curse on his already broken right shoulder. Bellatrix chuckled softly.
"He's been there before, you know," she continued with satisfaction. "More than once. But we've never let him die…and we won't. He's suffered for ten years. How much longer will you make that?"
James closed his eyes, trying to shut her voice out. He didn't need to listen to her sick parody of his conscience, didn't need to be reminded of how this was all his fault. Two days, he told himself once more, struggling for self-control. Two days. Just two days. It was his mantra, now. Two more days, and then this will be over. The darker side of his mind, though, added a new thought to that vow: And I'm going to kill Bellatrix Lestrange before this is over. There were very few certainties in his life at that moment, but James knew two for sure: he was going to rescue Sirius, and he was going to kill Bellatrix. End of story. Soon.
A sharp scream made his eyes fly open. "Pay attention, Jimmy," Bellatrix chided him, not giving him time for more murderous thoughts. Sirius was writhing again under the influence of Rodolphus' Cruciatus Curse, but she pointed her wand in his direction anyway. "This is for your benefit, after all—Adficios Me!"
The screams turned immediately to strangled gasps. Sirius' body shuddered, and James could see the weakness hit him as Bellatrix's spell sucked his strength away. He felt his eyes widen in shock, though, when Bellatrix held the spell—he couldn't believe that she would dare. Within seconds, Sirius was hardly breathing. He was straining for air, making soft noises of agony with each breath he managed to drag in. But both of Voldemort's torturers maintained the curses, and the moments ticked by like hours. Sirius' body stopped jerking, and he lay almost still, shaking and gasping. When a strained cry died off into choking, James snapped.
"Damn you! Don't you see he's going to—"
"Crucio!" In the blink of an eye, Bellatrix withdrew the Strength Stealing Curse and replaced it with the Cruciatus. Sirius shuddered sickly, letting out another choked cry of pain. "Manners, Potter," she drawled.
James' mouth shut with a snap. He was so angry that he was shaking, but one look at his best friend drowned all his fury into worry. Sirius was fading quickly—and then it happened. His attempts at breathing failed, and he started to choke.
Seconds ticked by. James bit his tongue, hard, only able to keep his silence because he feared what Bellatrix would do to Sirius if he didn't. He could only watch in sick fascination, praying helplessly. Please hold on. Don't let go. But how long did she think she could push this? Couldn't she see that Sirius didn't have anything left? But they both held him under the curse, and Sirius' choking began to slow and fade. Finally, as he stopped struggling altogether and slumped, the Lestranges released him.
There was only silence. Sirius lay on the floor, limp and unmoving. He choked once, and then lay still, exhausted. Frozen, all James could do was stare, unable to even reach his friend because of the chair he was bound to. He was holding his breath, desperately hoping that Sirius would start breathing again—but he remained still. James saw his body twitch once in agony, but there was nothing else. No. Please, no… James was shaking. Not now. Not Sirius…
Suddenly, Rodolphus moved forward. He no longer held his wand; instead, there was a small vial in his right hand. Bending over, the Death Eater grabbed Sirius by the hair with his left hand, dragging his head up. There was no resistance, no response. Quickly, Rodolphus forced the potion down Sirius' throat. Then he released Sirius and let him drop back to the floor with a sickening crunch. A long moment passed before Sirius choked again.
"Ennervate." Bellatrix's voice was cold, but her spell was well aimed. Sirius choked once more, twitched in pain, and then finally began to breathe raggedly.
Sirius moaned softly, and James blinked back tears of relief. His friend still laid half-dead on the floor, but he was breathing. He was alive.
"Well, well, well…" She stepped forward, poking Sirius again in the shoulder with her foot. He moaned again. "Trying to give up now, are we?"
Sirius only twitched, beginning to shake as the potion took further affect. James bit his lip, praying that the Lestranges wouldn't be stupid enough to hurt him more—not now, when he was so weak. But they hadn't stopped torturing him for the last five days; always, either Bellatrix, Rodolphus, or Rabastan was present, not letting Sirius rest and keeping him in pain. They had no reason to stop now; the Death Eaters didn't care how close he came to death, only that they didn't kill him. James swallowed, forcing back tears that threatened to rise. He doesn't deserve this! Sirius was moaning quietly again, shaking as the Lestranges stood and watched. They hadn't even done anything else, but he was so weak…
The door opened. The immediate feeling of coldness told him who it had to be, and when Bellatrix and Rodolphus stepped back, bowing, James knew he was right. He heard the rattling breathing of Dementors come and saw Sirius shudder weakly. Not now, he wanted to plead aloud, and almost did. Of all times for Voldemort to show up, this was quite possibly the worst for Sirius. The limp way in which his friend lay on the floor told James that he had so very little left at all. Soon, Sirius wouldn't be able to fight any more, regardless of what he wanted to do.
James had known Sirius for years. No matter how long they had been apart, he still knew him like a brother, still knew what made Sirius Sirius. He knew that his friend hadn't ever had an inch of give in him, hadn't ever learned how to surrender or how to give up—but he also knew that a dark and terrible truth was unavoidable. Sirius, no matter how strong he was, was human. And sooner or later, his body would not let him fight.
When that moment came, he'd die.
There wasn't any option or choice about it. The human body could only go so far. Sirius had already survived ten years of hell—how, James did not know—but there was only so much further he could push himself. Did Voldemort realize that? James shivered as the Dementors drifted closer, but the question still lurked in his mind. The Dark Lord had spoken of keeping Sirius alive, of forcing him to live until James gave in…but even Voldemort was not infallible. Sooner or later, someone make a mistake, and Sirius would die. Cold. He could only pray that day would not be today.
"Any second thoughts, yet, James?"
The voice was sickeningly friendly. James blinked, suddenly realizing that Voldemort was standing right over him; he'd been lost in his dark and frightened thoughts, more influenced by the Dementors than he'd realized. Behind the Dark Lord stood Lucius Malfoy, whose aristocratic face was alight with curiosity and glee. The Death Eater's gray eyes were focused on Sirius, and they were every bit as calculating as James had ever seen them—but he saw a hint of triumph there that he hadn't expected. He already knew about Sirius, James realized furiously. The bastard has known for years.
Of course he had. Veiled little comments that Malfoy had made during their past encounters suddenly made so much more sense, and James would have slapped himself if he had been able…but Sirius was alive, and that was all that mattered. Now I just have to keep him that way. The thought made him swallow, feeling cold inside. Such a simple task…yet it could possibly be the most difficult thing he'd done in his life. It all boiled down to choice—and to two days. Two days. Only two more days…
"I see you've learned the value of silence," the Dark Lord commented with a chuckle. With an effort, James brought his eyes up to meet that burning red gaze, struggling not to shudder. Yes, he had learned the value of silence; rather, he'd learned the price of defiance. He hadn't broken, not by any means…but he'd not make Sirius suffer more. Voldemort knew exactly how to make James behave. All it took was a simple threat.
He did not answer, did not need to. Both he and the Dark Lord knew it was useless. He only had eyes for his best friend, who still lay helpless and shaking on the floor. There was nothing he could do…nothing at all. James swallowed again, and tried to force himself to remember. Two days. Two days and I can save him. Voldemort's soft chuckle made his eyes snap away from Sirius once more, though.
"There are, however, a few lessons you have left to learn." The Dark Lord never turned his gaze away from James. He spoke, instead, with complete confidence that his orders would be carried out without hesitation. "The Poenatoxicum, Lucius."
Although the name meant nothing to James, his mind immediately translated the words far enough into English to identify the term as a potion name. More like poison. His worried gaze quickly followed Malfoy the senior Death Eater turned to Bellatrix Lestrange with a slight smile. "Would you care to do the honors?"
Sirius' cousin stepped forward immediately. "Why, thank you, Lucius," she purred, accepting the vial he held out. Neither of them cast so much as a glance at Sirius' shaking form during their exchange; for all the world, the two Death Eaters could have been discussing that night's dinner selections.
Without further ado, Bellatrix strode over to Sirius' side, glancing only to Voldemort for permission. The Dark Lord nodded, making a sinking feeling twist James' stomach into a knot. But he did not dare object.
Sirius still lay limply, straining for air and shaking. His eyes were only half-open, but he had to be aware because he flinched as Bellatrix grabbed him by the hair, forcing his head back just as Rodolphus had done before. She laughed as Sirius moaned in pain. "Drink up, cousin."
He gagged and choked as she forced the Poenatoxicum down his throat. Then she dropped him again, and Sirius shuddered painfully. Bellatrix stepped back, grinning and there was a short moment of silence. James, the four Death Eaters, and Lord Voldemort merely watched, waiting—though for what James did not know. And he dreaded finding out. A long second passed. Then another.
Sirius twitched.
At first it was nothing. He only twitched again. But then Sirius gasped, and then his body began shaking harder, until finally he began to convulse in pain. A sick cry shattered the silence and suddenly James became aware of Voldemort standing beside him.
"Poenatoxicum, James," the Dark Lord said softly. "A very dark and very old potion—almost impossible to brew." Even though his eyes were still fixed on Sirius, James heard the smile in his voice. "Fortunately, I have an expert Potions Master."
Snape. Suddenly, he hated the old enemy who had long ago become a valued ally. It wasn't rational—Snape likely had no idea who he brewed the potion for use upon—but James still wanted to murder him for causing Sirius so much pain. Sirius was screaming weakly now, though the noises he made could not really be called screams at all. They were more like high-pitched gasps of pain, a cross between agony and a struggle to breathe.
Voldemort leaned close to him. "As you can see, Poenatoxicum is every bit as agonizing as the Cruciatus Curse—even more so, I would dare say. But there is far less risk of insanity involved."
Sirius' body was jerking as he screamed. Staring, James blinked back tears. He knew where this was going.
"Unfortunately for your friend, the pain is only stopped by one of two things: the antidote or death."
Sirius was almost wailing in pain.
"So the choice is yours. Agree to serve me, and I will give him the antidote. Otherwise…"
James bit down on his lower lip until he tasted blood. He knew that Voldemort would not kill Sirius—but God, how much more will he make him suffer? James hadn't thought that he could hate himself any more than he did right now. Even the burning hatred he felt for Voldemort was no match for how much he despised himself for letting this happen. For not stopping it. For asking Sirius to be his Secret Keeper back in 1981—He doesn't deserve this! James wanted to sob as he watched his best friend writhe in pain, his screams interspersed with weak moans.
"Which will it be, James?"
It was not a question he should have asked, for they both knew the answer. No matter how much James was beginning to want to, he couldn't. And duty alone could no longer stop him, but Sirius had made him promise. He couldn't break faith with his friend, even though he should—his heart was screaming at him. You have to stop this! He can only last so long, and if Sirius dies, everything you've been fighting for during the last ten years will have been for nothing. James wanted to cry. He's been fighting for me for so long. It's time that someone fought for him. Yet what would he be if he broke the promise that Sirius had demanded he make? He felt so cold, so helpless, so cruel.
"You know my answer," James whispered painfully.
"Do I?" Voldemort's reply was surprisingly gentle. "Your loyalty is your weakness… can you bear to watch him die?"
Silence, broken only by Sirius' agonized cries, which were growing more quiet by the moment. He was writhing weakly in agony, and his eyes were tightly shut now; they had almost disappeared into his sunken face. Matted black hair covered some of his features, but even behind that, James could tell that Sirius' face was contorted in pain. He was suffering greatly, even though his cries were quiet.
"The real question, though, is how long you will make him suffer," Voldemort said after a long moment. "It's up to you."
Oh, Sirius…
"What will it be, James? The longest he's ever been under Poenatoxicum is thirteen hours. Would you care to see how long he can really last?"
James closed his eyes. "No."
"Crucio." Sirius screeched. "Open your eyes, Jimmy."
It was Bellatrix. James' eyes flew open immediately, but she held his friend under the curse. Sirius' body jerked off of the floor and came back down on his right shoulder with a sickening crunch.
"Enough, Bella," the Dark Lord commanded. She complied instantly, leaving Sirius gasping for air.
"Yes, Master." Bellatrix stepped back to her husband and brother-in-law's side.
"So what will it be? Your service, or his pain?" Then Voldemort turned back to face James. His red eyes were like ice.
He couldn't bring himself to say it, could hardly even bear to think it. Please forgive me, Sirius. Finally, James managed to whisper, "My answer is still the same."
"Very well." Voldemort gestured imperiously. "Put our guest back in his cell, Rabastan. Bella, Rodolphus, Lucius, come with me."
"And him, Master?" Rabastan Lestrange spoke for the first time, gesturing at Sirius. James' friend was moaning quietly.
"Leave him. He'll suffer alone."
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