Thanks for the reviews, everyone! Just to explain, the POV changes each ch, and the M rating kicks in this ch. I don't think it's all that graphic, but if you're anyway squemish, you mightn't like this one. And yes, this is SS/PP, and proud of it.
Chapter 2
The Spy
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Remus stretched his legs out in front of him to relieve the cramps, then pulled them back up under him in case he had to move. He was desperately thirsty, but knew better than to ask his leering guards for anything, even a simple drink of water. There was no point in drawing any more attention to himself. Leaning back against the wall, he dozed fitfully.
The rattle of the bolt on the cell door woke him. Blinking rapidly to clear the sleep from his eyes, he struggled to his feet. He met Greyback's gaze squarely as the alpha entered , causing the older werewolf to sneer. 'The Dark Lord has seen fit to invite you to tonight's entertainment, traitor,' he said brusquely. 'Before moonrise, you will watch our human counterparts have their fun, then you will run for the last time with our pack.' He grinned unpleasantly. 'You should enjoy this. The main attraction is one of yours, after all.' Remus' head snapped up, fear suddenly evident in his eyes. Greyback licked his lips, predator instincts tingling with anticipation.
'Wh...who? Who have you captured?' Remus stammered. 'What have you done?' One of his guards snorted. 'Hah! Will you look at him? And we thought he was such a shite actor. To hear him now, you'd never think he'd been sent to get yer man out.' The two laughed to themselves, but Greyback strode forward and seized Remus' chin, forcing their eyes to meet. They stayed frozen in that tableau for a long moment, then Greyback threw back his head and laughed.
'You didn't know, did you? You, all of you, actually believed the old man's deception! Ha! Oh, that's rich. You handed him to the Dark Lord on a silver platter! By Loki, that puts a different face on the man. Guess Dumbledore really had something on him. He couldn't have actually cared, or he would have left a way out. Stupid way to lead a pack. No surprise the old bastard's dead.'
He looked at Remus consideringly. 'You know, the man should have been a werewolf. Better than you at any rate. To walk into death knowing the people you fight for would as soon kill you themselves. Shows guts, and pride. No trust, only truth. Do what you must, and let the world go hang. Way of the world, that. Wasted on the power freaks like Voldemort, or the wash-out, 'love-rules-the-world' lot you belong to. Pity. Could have made something of him. What a spirit to fight with come Ragnarok!'
The alpha werewolf left the cell, shaking his head in wonder at the world. Remus, shackled between his two guards, followed, a sick feeling Growing in his stomach. What had they done?
The circle of Death Eaters stood in absolute silent, eerily lit in the flickering green light from the braziers lining the walls. Remus, chained at one end of the hall, shuddered. Enthroned at the far side of the hall, flanked by Greyback and Bellatrix, lounged the Dark Lord himself. He was listening intently as the werewolf whispered in his ear. The red eyes swept the hall, and landed on Remus. The reptilian face slid into a disturbingly knowing smile. The captive couldn't hide the flinch. The smile broadened.
Voldemort stood, causing all eyes to be drawn to him. He clapped his hands imperiously, either not knowing or not caring about the melodrama of the action. He gestured towards the smaller of the hall entraces, the one through which Remus had come, up from the dungeons.
A phlanx of Dementors glided, achingly slowly, into the room, the distinctive aura of horror and despair preceding them to pervade the room. Such was the depth and power of that aura that it took Remus some moments to climb out of his own dark memories and see the man walking in their midst.
And he did walk, calmly, his face set and blank, showing none of the unease that even the most vicious Death Eaters displayed in the presence of the beings that formed his guard. He was indeed a prisoner, the deep bruising on his face, the hanging arm, and the tattered and bloody state of his robes were evidence enough of that. Yet he didn't slump, he didn't cower, he didn't flinch at the gazes of his tormentors. He was the image of captive strength, and the sight of him caused Remus to cringe inside in a way even the Dark Lord had not.
As the Dementors fanned out from his battered form to surround the room, Severus Snape faced his lord and master, meeting the red eyes unwaveringly. In the silence that followed, the sound of Voldemort's hands clapping was ridiculously loud. He chuckled darkly as he swept down to stand before the prisoner.
'Oh, that was quite the performance, my pet!' he rumbled, reaching up to stroke Severus' face possessively. Severus stiffened slightly under the touch, but did not flinch back. The Dark Lord circled him, trailing a hand lightly from his face to the back if his neck. When he was right behind his prey, the hand tightened suddenly, and yanked the man back against him. 'Do you know what Greyback has told me, pet?' he hissed in Severus' ear, loudly enough to be heard round the hall. 'Do you know what he has discovered?' He spun the man and seized him by the upper arms, pulling him right up into the reptilian face. 'Do you?'
Remus shrank back against the wall, shame tearing at him, making him wish the earth would swallow him. He didn't know what had happened, but he could see that something somewhere had gone horribly wrong. The gentle werewolf, who did his best not to cause pain to anyone, desperately did not want to see the betrayal on Snape's face when he realised he'd been abondoned. He closed his eyes as Snape answered.
'I imagine, my lord, that he has pointed out to you the second spy you failed to see until something so blindingly obvious happened that you couldn't possibly miss him. Not a good record, master. I wonder what else you have missed?'
A low gasp reverberated though the room, and Remus' eyes flew open in horror, gazing expectantly, like everyone else, at the Dark Lord and the captive in his arms, wondering how he would react to such a defiant statement. He was as shocked as everyone else when Voldemort threw back his head and laughed, pulling Severus into a bear hug, ignoring the tightening in his eyes as his broken arm was crushed against his body.
'Ah Severus, entertaining as always! I shall miss your wit after tonight. Such a loss.' His face changed, the eyes blazing fiercely. 'But all who betray me shall perish. And you, my love, you most of all shall suffer!' Remus gasped. His ... love? 'Greyback has told me, love, that the spy believed you mine. All of them believe you mine. They will not come for you. Rather, they would spit on your grave if you had one.' Remus shrank back once more. Voldemort stared into Snape's face, which hadn't changed in the slightest. 'But I see you knew this. All along? But of course, you are not so easily fooled.' He reached up to stroke the bruised face. 'Why, love? Why turn from me for them? Why throw away your future?'
The hall was silent. It seemed that all present hung on Snape's wprds as he replied. He smiled sadly, gently. 'Because your love I am not. Because Lucius sold my services to you as price of his own freedom from your bed. Because I have been a slave most of my life and expect nothing more, but I cannot hand others to you as Lucius handed me. Because the faces of children I taught, lost to you, haunt my dreams more than any torture. because, perhaps, I am foolish in the extreme. I have lived my life as my masters, all three, have dictated. I have failed all of them.' he smiled hauntingly. 'I have no future. I never did. I had nothing left I could lose. That's why.'
Voldemort stepped back from him, his visage impassive. 'There's always more you can lose, slave. And many who are willing to take it from you.' He gestured to the surrounding Death Eaters. 'Begin.'
As the white masks closed in around him, as the first cruciatus was cast, as the first Death Eater rammed himself violently home, the knowing, haunting smile never left the face of the condemned. The dark fathomless eyes stayed locked on Voldemort's red ones until the yanking of his tormentors forced him to break the stare. And if anyone had studied the Dark Lord's face then would have seen fear and hunger. But no-one did. Their attention was all for the entertainment.
Leaving his followers to their games, Voldemort approached the other prisoner cowering against the wall, staring in horror at the melee. Remus paid him no heed, his mind still trying to grasp the horror of what he had learned. Slavery. Lucius, Voldemort. Love...rape. Betrayal. They had made no effort to understand the man they so casually hated. This sufferring, this pain, was their fault as much as Voldemort's. Greyback was right. They had handed the man who had sacrificed more, risked more, than the rest of them put together, to the Dark Lord on a silver platter.
'Beautiful, isn't it?' Remus looked at the creature towering over him in horror. The Dark Lord laughed. 'I suppose one of your kind cannot appreciate the stark beauty of death , the hyponotism of watching another's fear and knowing it is of you. Not that Severus ever showed the slightest fear. Even now, if you watch him, he'll make no sound, show no pain. Never once, in all his years of service to me, has he screamed. He is the most fascinating creature I have ever met. Don't you think so?' He looked at Remus expectantly, but he could find no answer. Over the years he had found Severus to be many things. Pityful, annoying, hateful. Later, cold, distant, embittered. Now, knowing what he did, he saw the pain of the man, but could no longer pity him. He could only admire the fierce courage that could drive the man to endure so much for people who couldn't care less about him. Fascinating was not the word.
Voldemort leaned down to him and whispered earnestly in his ear, as if imparting a great secret. 'You know, it's a great pity he couldn't stop your canine friend the night he was flushed out. He went to such lengths to convince us that the renegade Black was dead. Imagine how disappointed I was to learn that this was not the case. If only he had told me the truth, I might not have been so suspicious of him, hm?' He leaned back, apparently delighted at the sight of the tears that Remus could no longer hold back.
'Now, now. Hush. Don't cry. I'll make it all better. After all, with Severus gone, I'm free to keep you company in the night.' He stroked Remus' face, much as had done with Severus. Remus shuddered uncontrollably, wondering through a fog of sudden terror how the man had borne it so long. The hand that stroke his face moved to brush the hair from it. Voldemort grasped his chin, lifting his face to move it from side to side. 'Hm. You are not so attractive as he. You flinch too readily, and your eyes show your fear too clearly. If you wish to survive after tonight, you must learn to interest me. Too many of my lovers have failed in that regard. Only Severus remained a persistant mystery.'
Suddenly flinging Remus from him, the Dark Lord spun, fury on his face. 'Damn you for turning from me, dark one! Damn you for taking my pleasure. I'll finish you right here, right now, for that. You had no right, slave, to defy your master. No right!' He strode forward, encompassing all present in a furious slashing gesture. 'SILENCE! Give me the traitor!'
The Death Eaters scattered before him, terror evident in their frenzy. In the centre of the hall, abandoned by their retreat, Severus lay in a ragged, bloody heap. Scrambling to his feet, Remus watched as the Dark Lord knelt over the tattered form. Severus' eyes were closed, and Remus desperately hoped that he would be unconcious for whatever was to come. No such luck. The black eyes slid open and stared expressionlessly at the creature crouched over him.
'It's time, love. I made you a promise, that I would teach you to scream before you died. I will keep my word to you, although you afforded me no such courtesy.'
He turned Severus onto his stomach, holding almost gently. Then he withdrew his wand from a billow of his robes. Moving slowly, tenderly, he pulled the tatters of cloth away from his captive's torso and legs. He slid the wand up into him. Severus' head came up, eyes suddenly wide. Unable to control the wolf's instinct to protect its pack, Remus lunged forward, horror and the influence of a fast approaching full moon making him snarl incoherently. Desperately straining, he watched as Voldemort's other hand held Severus' head still, and in a sick parody of a lover's whisper, the Dark Lord said one word.
'Crucio!'
Severus' back arched violently upwards, and his mouth opened in a silent scream. It didn't remain silent long, however. His face contorting in agony, he let loose an inhuman cry, for no human throat should be capable of producing a sound to encompass such pain. All the werewolves present angled towards the sound, hunters recognising the death cry of a wounded prey, animals knowing the sound of the greater hunter, Death.
Moments before the writhing of his victim snapped his wand, Voldemort withdrew it. The form beneath his hands collapsed, the scream dying. The Death Eaters and Remus cranned forwards, trying to see if he were dead or alive. A tense, straining silence followed. Then Severus drew in a harsh, ragged breath, and the tension broke. The Death Eaters cheered their master, for none yet had seen such a technique. In fact, it was the first time even Voldemort had used it. Remus wept, for the ruin of a courageous man, for the loss of one he had come to realise was pack to him, if only too late.
Voldemort stood, wiping the blood and fluid from his wand. 'Come my servants. It's past time to be gone, and the hour of our wolfish breathren approaches.' Behind him, a massive doorway, the width of the hall, opened out onto a snowfilled forest. In the growing gloom of twilight, a faint silver glow indicated the approach of moonrise. As his wholly human followers appartated out, the Dark Lord beckoned Greyback,
'Do as you will with the corpse, but he is not to survive, nor become as you are. I wish him dead.' With that, the Dark Lord disappeared, leaving Remus bound in a room full of werewolves, himself one of them, with the full moon on the rise, and a barely-alive comrade lying helpless in their midst.