Note — To explain the time frame, this happens about three weeks before Chapter One.

Chapter Two

Anything

Lord Voldemort was not pleased.

Remus Lupin was kneeling on the floor in front of him, battered and bleeding. He had been subjected to days of torture. The Cruciatus Curse began it. Lord Voldemort very much enjoyed hearing the normally calm, dignified werewolf scream. This was accompanied by physical beatings, and by the various forms of torture possible for a skilled Occlumens.

Yet Voldemort was still not pleased.

He had not yet broken the werewolf's dignity. Lupin endured it all with an iron determination. He had not yet revealed any information on the Order of the Phoenix. Voldemort had then thought that he could wrest the information from Lupin's mind. This was his most recent experiment.

Lupin was kneeling on the stone floor, now, in the center of the round, high-ceilinged room, at Voldemort's feet and surrounded on all sides by cloaked and masked Death Eaters. He knelt because he literally did not have the strength to stand. He was visibly trembling. Good. This assuaged Voldemort's anger somewhat.

"So," Voldemort said, in a silky hiss, "the wolf protects your mind, where the man cannot. An animal after all, then."

Lupin made no reply. Voldemort gestured to a Death Eater, who kicked the werewolf viciously, knocking him fully to the floor. A low, quickly stifled sound escaped his lips. It was something like a moan. "You answer when Lord Voldemort speaks," Voldemort hissed. "Now. Tell me. I am growing impatient with you, werewolf. Give me the names of the members of the Order of the Phoenix."

"No," Lupin whispered. Slowly, with a titanic effort of will, he pushed himself up, from the floor to his knees, and more shakily, from his knees to his feet. He stood there, swaying, in the center of the room, the effects of the week's torture showing clearly. Voldemort felt a faint and reluctant respect. Lupin was a worthy adversary indeed.

"No?" Voldemort repeated softly. They had this conversation daily.

"No," said Lupin.

"Crucio," said Voldemort, softly, his tone almost pleasant, and Lupin's pained screams filled the chamber.

I can't do this much longer, thought Remus.

He had long since given up on any hope of rescue. He had grown very familiar, over the past nine days, with the stone floor of the room where he was tortured. He knew every stone and every stain or dent where some previous victim had broken, shrieking and groveling and mocked as pathetic for giving in to what was far past human endurance. Only one thing did he hold onto; No one else would suffer this because of him. No one else would have to listen to their own screams because he had spoken their name.

The torture ended. He imagined Voldemort wanted to keep him at least partially sane.

"We are finished for the day," said Voldemort impassively.

A pair of Death Eaters seized his arms and pulled him up. He had stopped trying to identify who lay under the masks. Now it was back to the tiny, windowless room where he was kept. Back to the collar and chains. Back to his cage.

A voice spoke as he left, though, a voice like a childhood nightmare. "My lord," said the voice of Lucius Malfoy. "I recommend ..."

The door clapped shut, cutting off the rest of Malfoy's words.

Remus put it out of his mind as he was chained. Manacles at his wrists, the heavy leather collar around his neck. It was deeply humiliating, but it could have been worse. The chains and the clasp on the collar were iron. It could have been silver. Silver would have branded his wrists to the bone by now.

Remus curled himself up against the wall as the Death Eaters left, shivering in his thin robes.

It was one of those very annoying things about life that trouble was something you got yourself into. Remus was so logical he irritated himself sometimes, so it was hard to blame anyone else for his troubles. It always managed to be his fault, somehow. If he hadn't been so blindly trusting, he wouldn't have gotten into trouble with Lucius back in third year. If, however, he had trusted Sirius and had talked to him, Sirius would have trusted him in turn, and neither of them would have spent those thirteen years alone. If he'd taken his potion that night two years ago, Peter would have been safely locked away, and Sirius free.

If ... if. If he'd kept his head after Sirius died, instead of getting lost in his own terrifying grief, he wouldn't be in this situation. But as it was, he had allowed himself to be cornered, trapped, and dragged back here. Wherever "here" was.

Oh, God. Sirius ...

Exhausted, Remus managed to sleep.

Some indeterminate time later, he was awakened by the creak of the heavy door. He blinked and tried to look somewhat alive, disinclined to show his weakness more than absolutely necessary. He was surprised by a gentle, stroking hand on his shoulder.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position, and found himself looking into Lucius Malfoy's cold, slightly amused eyes.

"Oh, no," Remus said despondently, without thinking.

Malfoy caressed his hair lightly, laughing. "Oh, no? Is that how you greet your old lover?"

Remus scowled at him. He was not good at scowling, and he knew it, but better that than nothing. "We were anything but lovers, Lucius," he said grimly, "and I'll thank you not to bring up that old nightmare."

Lucius examined him closely. "You look much the worse for wear," he commented. Remus raised an eyebrow at this statement of the readily obvious. Lucius ran the edge of a light finger over Remus' bruised cheekbone, his soft lips. Remus shuddered, but didn't pull back. I'm not thirteen anymore, he told himself. He shouldn't be able to bring back ... everything ... with barely a touch ...

"Isn't this interesting," Lucius interrupted his thoughts, touching the collar. "Didn't I put one of these on you some years back?"

Remus moved away. "You did. And it would have to be some years back, wouldn't it. I haven't so much as seen you since I was fourteen."

"Yes, twenty-one years. But the memories come back, don't they?" said Lucius. "The collar ... the belt ... and the gag, of course ..." He studied Remus' face closely. "Why don't you stutter a little, Remy?" he asked. "It was always so very cute." He then leaned forward and pressed his mouth to the werewolf's. His lips were firm and insistent, his tongue caressing the inside of Remus' mouth, his hand on the back of the other's neck to restrain him from pulling back. Remus struggled, scared and repulsed, but even as he did, he felt a slow yearning. He wanted so much to be kissed ...

But not by Lucius Malfoy. Yet the memories, the good ones, and the bad ones, both came back so strong ...

Finally it ended, and Remus leaned back, panting slightly – not from fear, nor yet from arousal, just because he hadn't much been able to breathe. "Why do I get the feeling I'm going to need years of therapy when you're through with me?"

"You probably are," Lucius commented. He cupped Remus's face with one hand.

"Aren't you married?" Remus demanded, twisting away.

Lucius laughed softly. "Come, now. Fidelity isn't expected in arranged marriages."

"I am not thirteen anymore," said Remus, his eyes locked on Lucius, in fascinated horror. "You don't have anything to blackmail me with."

"But I do have you chained down," Lucius pointed out. "I can do whatever I want, and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it." His hand ran along Remus's collarbone, down his ribs to his hip, and further –

Remus closed his eyes, shivering. "This isn't going to work. I've lived through this before, it's horrible, but it's no worse than anything else."

"If it's so horrible," said Lucius, "then why do you have a male lover? Out of curiosity. Or rather, why did you have a male lover ..."

Remus kicked out sharply, abruptly, catching Lucius in the thigh, just below the groin. Lucius jumped, and then caught the werewolf's throat, forcing him to the floor. Remus lay on his back, breathing painfully past Lucius' hand. He felt with a grim satisfaction that it had been worth it. Lucius eased the pressure slightly. "Answer the question."

Remus suppressed an insane urge to laugh. He's so bent on being a miniature Voldemort ... "Because," he said painfully, "I did love Sirius. He never raped me. Whereas you ..."

"I have no intention of raping you, Remy," Lucius said calmly. His free hand travelled down Remus's torso, slow but rough.

"No?" Remus asked, pushing at the hand on his throat. The other hand he preferred not to think about.

Lucius smiled. "No. You will be perfectly willing, and you will do as I say, exactly as I say. I won't have to force you."

"Nice fantasy," said Remus scornfully. "Pity it won't happen."

Lucius caressed him casually, starting with his hair, exploring his face, at length his fingers resting back on the werewolf's throat. "You will be rewarded if you do as I say."

"Rewarded?" His laughter sounded harsh, and more than a little mad. "Rewarded, you say? Will this be before or after Voldemort finishes torturing me?"

Lucius slapped him. "Don't say the name."

Remus didn't put his hand to his face, though his skin was flushing livid in the mark of Lucius' fingers. "I'm not telling you anything."

He looked at Remus with a patronizing smile. Remus winced as his hands applied skillful pressure in their different locations. "Oh, Remy," he said. "Don't you realize? We already know who is in the Order of the Phoenix." Watching Remus' face closely, he began to recite the list of names. "Yourself, Sirius Black, Dumbledore. Arthur, Molly, Bill and Charlie Weasley. Kingsley Shacklebolt. Mad-Eye Moody. Arabella Figg. Mundungus Fletcher. Nymphadora Tonks ..."

Remus realized what was happening, and made his face blank, but it was too late. "Ah!" said Lucius, his eyes sparkling. "So they are in the Order! Well, thank you, Remy."

"Fuck you!" Remus hissed. He'd never before used the word while sober. He generally liked to be more original in his epithets.

Lucius laughed. "Good choice of words."

Remus pushed his hand away, hating himself. "All right," he whispered. "You have what you want. Go away."

"No," said Lucius. "I won't. I don't have what I want."

Remus sighed, struggling to collect himself again, and largely succeeding. "Isn't this a little far to take a schoolboy obsession?"

"Remy," Lucius chided, "you haven't asked me what your reward will be." His eyes suggested. So did his constantly moving, skillful hands.

Remus turned away, or tried to. "I don't want to know." I'm an adult, he told himself. I'm not a little boy to be taken advantage of any more. But he was too weak to fight back. Nine days of torture and the chains had left him more or less helpless.

"But since I'll be doing it anyway," Lucius said persuasively, "why not submit? Especially when you can be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams."

Remus stared at the wall. It didn't look back.

"The Dark Lord did not lie," said Lucius, "when he said Harry Potter's parents could be returned to life."

Remus froze, swiftly making the connection. Slowly, he turned back from the wall to Lucius. The older man had removed his hands. "You must be joking," Remus whispered, pushing himself into a seated position.

"The Dark Lord will give you back your lover, if you do as I say," Lucius said softly.

The two men looked at each other, Remus tense, and disgusted to find tears in his eyes; Lucius triumphant, smirking slightly, certain of his victory. "How much would you do, Remy?" asked Lucius, voice teasing. "How far would you go?"

"Anything," whispered Remus. "Anything you want. Anything he wants. I'll do anything."

Lucius smiled. "I thought you'd say that."

I'll pretend he's Sirius, Remus told himself.

That proved to be impossible.

TBC