Chapter Twenty Seven

Snape raised his wand. Remus flinched back - not sure what to expect exactly, but nevertheless expecting pain.

But instead of levelling it at the werewolf, Snape pointed his wand at the door and yelled 'expecto patronum'. A large, silver shape crashed out of the end of the wand, hit the floor and then stood guard in the doorway, pawing at the ground with its hoofs.

The dementors were forced backwards - and suddenly Remus' head was clearer and he felt warmer and better than he had since he had first been handed over into the custody of the Azkaban guards.

He felt a flush of heat, and then behind the warmth came a wave of happy thoughts, crashing over him. And he could think of Sirius - without fear or pain or aching loneliness. He thought of Sirius' eyes and his laugh and the morning they had woken up together after the full moon. And after a moment, breathing in happy memories - letting himself remember soft kisses and gentle touches, he found he was strong enough to get to his feet - though his legs trembled as he stood.

'Easy there, wolf,' one of the aurors, Dawlish, he thought - said to him. 'We've got you covered. Don't even think of making a break for it.'

Remus just stared at him like he was mad. If he ran, he would pass the patronus and be back out there with the dementors. He wasn't going anywhere. He was not going to willingly leave heat and hope behind, when he had been starved of both for so long.

...

He turned to look at Snape - and saw the other man's face twisted with loathing. It reminded him of the morning they had been arrested; Snape had looked just as angry with him then as well. He didn't understand it. He knew Snape didn't like him - the feeling was mutual after all - and he knew Snape thought he was a Death Eater. But … Remus was pretty sure Severus Snape had been a Death Eater, as well - in his own time. The level of hatred, the vitriol, he saw in Snape's face was what made no sense. He just couldn't fathom why Snape would care that much.

'Se - Severus,' he croaked. His voice was still raspy. He so barely used it other than to scream in agony. His throat was sore from his howling but his words were halting and difficult - from lack of use. 'Why are you here?'

He tried to raise his head proudly. Tried not to show any of the shame he felt at being seen locked in this cramped, dank cell - in clothes he had worn for weeks now, unwashed and unkempt and half starved. It was much worse to be seen this way by Snape - who had known him at school, who had known him as a man - than it was by the Ministry strangers who saw nothing but the wolf. They expected nothing but a caged animal, whereas Snape could see just how far he had fallen … and that stung.

...

Snape's eyes were still glittering strangely. 'Are you trying to pretend you don't know?' His voice was a low and venomous hiss.

Remus' eyes darted to the door - past the patronus, and he became aware of the wands being readied to hurl curses at him if he tried to make a run for it. But he was only looking out, looking at where the dementors were banished behind the softly glowing, silver light - and working things out in his head. 'Something has happened,' he said slowly. 'I've had more guards at my door today - and they seem … angrier. Something has happened and that is what has brought you here.' He turned his eyes back to Snape, 'but I swear I don't know what.'

'Liar. '

...

Remus actually laughed - the sound just bubbled up inside of him and escaped his throat, without his even meaning it to. He clapped a hand to his mouth. He had almost forgotten laughter. Never thought he would do it again. And - although this was a dark and bitter laugh - it came from dark and bitter amusement. Amusement . The patronus was strong, the difference it was making to him was stark. And he was going to enjoy it as long as it lasted. He did not fool himself he would ever feel this good again. When they had got what they wanted, Snape would leave, his patronus would flicker and die and Remus would be left the way he had been before - drowning in grey misery and hoping for the end. He was going to make the most out of every last second he felt strong.

'Look at me, Severus,' he opened his arms wide so that Snape could take him all in. 'I haven't left this cell in weeks. I haven't seen or spoken to anyone. The dementors are not exactly forthcoming with information - what could I possibly know? Locked away in here, rotting in prison?'

'You know what your master has done. I know you do.'

'My master?' he furrowed his brow. 'I'm innocent, Severus - I never worked for Voldemort, if he has done anything - he was never my master and I know nothing about it.'

...

He noticed the way the three wizards all flinched and paled when he said Voldemort's name. Pathetic. Here he was, locked in a prison of bars and stone walls - as well as a prison of his own mind, barely fed and waiting to die - in less than a week, if his calculations were correct, and these three,big wizards, armed with their wands, flinched when he said a scary word. He felt a surge of contempt for them - and maybe it showed on his face, because Snape's expression became even angrier.

...

'I do not speak of the Dark Lord,' he spat. 'I mean your other master… your lover.'

Remus felt himself blush; acutely aware of all three sets of eyes on him.

'How has he done it - where has he gone?'

But Remus was still nonplussed. Fighting down his humiliation, he shook his head: 'Sirius? I - don't know what you're talking about, Severus. I'm sorry.'

'Yes you do - tell me.'

'Ask a clearer question and I'll answer it.'

...

Dawlish suddenly snorted. 'Enough with this - just give him some veritaserum, Snape - that'll make the beast talk.'

But Snape only tutted - and gave Dawlish a scathing look. 'One cannot just force veritaserum down the throat of a conscious wizard and expect it to work. It must be administered in secret - when they do not suspect. And you have just announced an intention to use it. I could empty an entire vial into his water jug and force him to drink every last drop and it would make no difference. He knows - he is on his guard. The creature's mind is not so weak that it cannot guard against a truth potion it knows it has taken.'

'He,' Remus said.

They looked at him. 'What? '

'He. I'm - I'm not an "it". I'm not a thing , I'm a man.' He didn't know where that had come from - he had been called an 'it' and an animal and a monster many times over the years, many many times over the past month or so. He didn't usually correct people - it was… it was normally too humiliating to correct people, he would just ignore it - and hope no one else had noticed. But now, the light of the patronus was making him feel stronger and better than he had done in weeks and these three wizards, Snape especially, they were … they were really pissing him off, if he was honest.

...

Standing there - protected by the gleaming shape in the doorway, he was more aware of himself and who he was than he had been since he got here. He was Moony. Of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. He was a marauder. And a marauder did not take crap from Snivellus. Padfoot would expect him to stand his ground. Prongs - wherever he was now - would be watching him. He couldn't stand there and let Prongs watch him allow Snivellus to call him an "it" - and let him get away with it. He would be joining Prongs soon enough - he didn't want his friend's first words to him to be: what were you thinking, letting old Snivelly walk all over you?

He wished he had a wand so he could yell 'levicorpus' and haul "old Snivelly" up into the air by his ankle - exposing his greying pants to the aurors, the way James had once done - back when they were young and the world was still golden.

...

Perhaps there was something in his eyes that betrayed his thoughts, perhaps Snape could somehow divine what it was he was thinking about - the memory that had just been brought to mind - because he flicked his wand and yelled 'incarcero'.

Ropes flew out of the end of his wand and tied themselves around Remus, binding him hand and foot.

'Get down, wolf,' Snape snarled, keeping his wand pointed as Remus, as Remus slowly lowered himself back down onto his mattress - struggling to do so now he was tied up.

Then Snape's wand was levelled squarely between his eyes. 'What do you want, Severus?' he asked, his voice was even - he was growing accustomed to speech again.

'I want you to tell me how it is your master has escaped from the prison - and where it is he has gone?'

...

Remus felt a sudden jolt inside of himself, like a highly charged magical surge passing right through him. 'Si - Sirius has escaped?'

'Don't play dumb with me, wolf.'

But Remus was barely paying attention. He had turned to stare out of his window - at the grey sky, which was all that was visible from down on the floor. Sirius had got out? Sirius was free? Sirius had … left him here?

He looked back round at his interrogators - and saw a satisfied gleam in Snape's cold, black eyes. 'What's this?' he sneered, 'trouble in paradise? Hardly the love affair of the century - if he runs off and abandons you here, saves his own skin and leaves you waiting for the axe.'

Remus took a deep breath - and said nothing. Because what Snape had said was so very close to what he was thinking and feeling. How could Sirius have possibly escaped this place? And why - if he had found a way out - would he go and leave Remus behind?

...

He tried to imagine their situation reversed, him the one who had discovered a path to freedom and Sirius the one locked helplessly in his cell. The thought of leaving Sirius behind made his gut twist inside of himself. He would never leave Sirius… but then he would never have suspected that Sirius was the spy either. And yet Sirius had suspected him.

Perhaps - when it came down to it, he just loved Sirius more than Sirius loved him. And that made sense, Sirius was whole and beautiful - and Remus was tainted and broken and ugly … of course it was easier for him to love Sirius. And of course a - a filthy halfbreed like him would want more love than anyone in their right mind would ever be able to bestow on him… But none of this made Sirius' abandonment hurt any less. If anything it made it hurt worse.

...

'Come now,' Snape's voice was silky. He sounded like he was enjoying himself - like he was enjoying Remus' distress … And Remus felt himself harden up again, pushing his fears and feelings of betrayal aside and feeling sudden iron clenching inside of him - refusing to let this known enemy get between him and Sirius - no matter what they said.

'You seem heartbroken - a beast without a master… You really expect us to believe that a creature like you knows nothing of where Black went? Or what dark magic he used to do it?'

Remus stared back up at him, trying to pour as much hatred into his eyes as came from Snape's - trying to match him loathing for loathing. 'Sirius does not know any dark magic,' he spat through gritted teeth. '- He is not a Death Eater, Snivelly . And neither am I. You would be better placed to answer your own questions, I think. You're the only one here who was ever a servant of Lord Voldemort.'

...

Severus' wand was a blur, there was a loud bang and Remus felt himself suddenly thrown back - as if he had been punched in the face. When he sat back up, Snape's face was white and he was shaking with anger.

'Enough of this,' he said - and flecks of spittle actually flew from his lips as he spoke. 'look at me - you dirty werewolf - look me right in the eye.'

Remus glared up at him.

Snape raised his wand - pointed and yelled: 'Legilimens!'


It had begun to rain - soft raindrops pitter pattering onto the mossy roof of the cave. It was strange the way he could hear that, even over the sound of the little waterfall. Sirius huddled closer to his fire.

He had found the article he was looking for - on page 8. Clearly Peter was edging back towards the headlines - day by day, becoming more important. Well, if Sirius got his way, then Wormey would be front page news for at least a week. And he would have granted Peter's fondest wish: the little rat would be famous forever. Or at least infamous .

He hoped that that same infamy, which dogged him now, would not follow him and Remus forevermore, though. That they would be able to slip back into their old lives, their old anonymity - no one important, no one scandalous - no one well known. That they could live quietly together until the end of their days - and be allowed to forget everything that had happened these past few weeks.

...

Azkaban already felt distant. His soul already felt refreshed and restored. He hoped Moony would bounce back just as quickly… though he had had it considerably harder.

Thoughts of Moony made the flames of his magic fire grow a little hotter, a spark flew up towards the ceiling - and he only just had time to pull the newspaper out of the way and stopped it setting alight.

Turning slightly, to protect the pages from the crackling flames, he furrowed his brow and concentrated on Rita Skeeter's latest article.

...

The Boy Who Lived, His Loving Uncle And The Leaky Cauldron

...

The headline said.

...

Venue set for historic meeting between the wizarding world's tiniest hero and his last remaining family.

...

The lede then followed up.

...

Plans are being set in motion for the touching reunion between little Harry Potter and his doting Uncle Peter - the best friend of war heroes James and Lily Potter. Your intrepid reporter (Rita Skeeter - whose warm words across the pages of this very publication have shone light into the darkness and reunited many an old friend - Potter and Pettigrew being only the latest) has all the details.

'I know this will be a very special occasion,' Pettigrew, 21 - whose unassuming form hides the massive heart we have all come to know so well this past month …

...

Sirius snorted.

...

This past month - says. 'And I know that everyone is eager to share in the joyous occasion - and I am equally eager to share with them. As are Petunia and Vernon - Lily's delightful muggle family, who are taking such good care of little Harry out in the safety of the muggle world.'

...

Sirius snorted again. He remembered Petunia and Vernon - from the wedding. They were … they had not been delightful. That was not the word he would have used.

As the best man, it had been his job to make sure everyone was having a good time - to act like the host … Trying to be a good host to Petunia and Vernon had been an uphill battle to say the least. Wherein the hill was Mount Everest and the battle was a pitched fight between one man and a horde of sabre tooth tigers - and the man was only armed with a blunt stick.

...

They had been able to tell he was magic - of course. He was James' best friend. And they despised James. So no matter how hard he had tried - and he really had tried to be charming, and he was a man capable of no small amount of charm - he had been met with a terrified iciness from Lily's sister and angry aggression from her brother in law.

And Moony had fared little better. They hadn't immediately clocked him as a wizard, as he was just another guest - and as a man with a muggle mother, he was rather better at blending in than some of the rest of their kind. But - his suit had been a little on the shabby side. He had got it second hand, and he had had dark circles under his eyes from the full moon and - even before she realised he was magic - Petunia had eyed him up with distaste and more than a little fear. As if a man who looked so obviously poor might be dangerous as well. That fear had turned to loathing once she had seen him with Sirius and James ... and figured out he was one of them.

...

Perhaps she had hated Wormtail a little less … Sirius honestly couldn't remember. Although this was long before they suspected there was a spy - possibly even before Peter was a spy. The marauders had been one big, happy foursome - he couldn't imagine the eagle eyed Petunia had failed to notice Wormey hanging around with the other three of them. And he couldn't imagine she had forgotten who he was when he turned up on her doorstep.

...

And that was why none of this seemed to make sense. Petunia hated magic. Vernon hated magic. They probably hated Harry, they certainly would not want him having any contact with the magical world … Sirius could not understand why they would suddenly lose their senses and agree to this big meet and greet surrounded by wizards. It was like they'd suddenly had drastic personality transplants…

… Or been confounded.

...

So - that was it, was it? He scratched his chin, thoughtfully. Peter wanted this so badly he was hexing the Dursleys and forcing them to play along.

Well - he would rue the day he did that. Sirius was only out of jail because of what Peter was doing. If the little rat had just stayed quiet, he would have got away with it all…

Still - Sirius had not won yet. Peter was still getting away with it for now - and Sirius needed to get a move on. He went back to his reading.

...

In order to ensure that as many people can attend the reunion as possible, Pettigrew has arranged for it to take place at none other than the world famous Leaky Cauldron pub - the gateway to Diagon Alley.

'Tom has been so helpful getting everything ready,' Peter says, 'he's booked Caradoc Carew's Classic Catering Company to provide the sandwiches and pumpkin juice and it really should be the most fabulous event…'

...

Sirius stopped reading. That was what he had needed to find out. And he couldn't quite stomach the thought of any more Peter - couldn't bring himself to read his poison in the rest of the article.

It was going to be held at The Leaky Cauldron. He needed to get to Diagon Alley as quickly as possible.

...

He dropped the paper into the fire - burning away the evidence that a wizard had ever been there and then stared intently at the flames, using more wandless magic to put his little campfire out; quashing the flames instead of kindling them this time, until there was nothing left but rapidly cooling ash.

And then he turned up his collar, transformed back into Padfoot - and went back out into the rain, heading in the direction of the road to London.


Just as he had been when Snape had hit him with the knockback jinx, Remus felt himself thrown backwards, as the force of the spell rushed over him. And then all of a sudden - completely unbidden - a whole load of memories began to swarm into his mind, swimming before his eyes before he could stop them. He knew Snape could see them too - but there was nothing he could do - as memory after memory washed over him.

He saw himself in bed - a tiny, little boy - and a dark shape at the window. And then teeth and fur and pain … and Lyall was crying, Hope was screaming - and little Remus was hidden away and not allowed to talk to other young witches and wizards anymore.

He saw himself on the Hogwarts express for the first time - and then the sorting. He saw his mother's funeral, and himself curled naked on the floor of the shrieking shack after a full moon, his body covered in bright red scratches. He saw James and Lily's wedding - and him and Sirius drinking together while muggle songs played - and then Sirius barging into his home, Harry under one arm and telling him Lily and James were dead.

And then he saw the fire in their living room, and Sirius leaning forward - wrapping his arms around him and pressing lips together. 'Me too - It's been always for me too' . And then Sirius was taking Remus' shirt off - and then they were naked and …

...

No. His mind suddenly rebelled and the memory hit against a blank wall. That's private, Snivellus. You're not seeing that.

...

The memories died away as quickly as they had come - and when he looked back up, Snape had lost his balance - as if the force of Remus' mind had caused him to stumble. Remus looked up at him - and saw the curl of his lip, his disgust at that final memory. He felt himself flush - but refused to break eye contact. He shouldn't have to be ashamed of loving Sirius - and he wasn't going to let himself be.

'What happened?' Dawlish asked.

'I saw rather more of the beast than I ever wanted to - and now it's fighting me.'

'He.' Remus said again. 'He is fighting you.' He stiffened his spine and sat up straighter.

'You won't fight when we're done with you, wolf,' Dawlish said to him. 'You'll beg us for mercy.'

'I won't beg.'

But the two aurors just grinned nastily - as if they knew something he didn't.

Snape raised his wand again. 'Legilimens!' he cried.

...

But this time, Remus was ready for him. His defences were up, his mind remained completely blank and he fought against the spell - pushing it away from himself until - just as suddenly as his own memories had opened up - he saw a small boy cowering in a corner while an angry, hooked nosed man yelled at him, and a flash of two girls - one with dark red hair - playing on a muggle playground, and Snivellus hanging upside down - his robes over his head and his pants exposed for the world to see - while James held him there, laughing, and a young Remus, wearing a prefect's badge, pretended to read a book and refused to look up.

...

'Enough!' Snape yelled - and the connection was broken. He looked at the two aurors. 'He's too strong - he's fighting too hard. He's too talented at occlumency. I thought you said this place would have broken him?'

The aurors shrugged. 'It's the patronus,' Proudfoot said. 'It's shielding him from the dementors as well as us - this is the strongest he'll have felt in weeks.'

'But if I get rid of the patronus - then we will be weakened as well. I cannot protect us and leave him weak at the same time.'

...

But Dawlish was laughing - as if this was not unexpected, and was no great problem. 'This is why we paid a visit to the Dangerous Beast lot before we came, borrowed some of their toys.' He began to root in his bag - looking for whatever it was he had taken from the cruel wizards who were so eagerly anticipating executing Remus.

'Careful now, Snape,' he said - as he brought the object from his bag and approached Remus. 'This is not going to be for the faint-hearted.'