This Beastly Salvation

Chapter Twenty-One: I'll Be Careful

October 15, 1996

Remus found it difficult to raise his eyes from the ground below him, having still not fully recovered from the news that Lucius had broken the day before. It was a relief to be outside again, but it didn't fix anything.

He'd known since the first time he'd heard it that it would be difficult to be rescued if the Death Eaters made good on their threat to set him loose on a town. He'd been relying on the Order to pay careful attention, listening as closely as they could so that they would know exactly where and when he would be free from the Death Eaters' direct control. Still, it had presented a somewhat more straightforward option than trying to launch a full-scale mission at the Manor itself. Remus felt himself reeling, thrown back to where he'd been at the beginning of this endeavour, wishing he'd focused more on finding out exactly what wards did or didn't protect the grounds.

Lucius's gaze wasn't helping Remus's mood either; the way his eyes kept flickering over Remus while they walked made the younger wizard think that it was unlikely he'd be left to rot (and therefore be more easily rescued) after the full moon. Even if he survived the night of the full moon—far from a given, considering the threat he knew he'd be posing to everyone who came to watch—the sick twisting in his gut told him that his observation would be far from over.

And on top of it all, a sinking feeling. That the Order might leave him. That they might see the usefulness in letting him suffer for another month, after this change. That he'd signed up knowing the risks, and that in his absence, they'd become more and more willing to take advantage of that.

"I thought we'd agreed that you were going to try to regain some… dignity."

Remus startled at the sound of Lucius's voice, raising his head up and becoming suddenly aware of how grey and bright the sky was, and how close Lucius was, though his eyes were looking straight ahead. The wizard's lips seemed to burn at the word dignity, as if he regretted having ever said it in the first place.

"It's difficult to feel dignified when your life is someone else's plaything," Remus replied honestly, licking his lips and looking down at the ground again. "You told me that when I was dealing with how little time I had left. Now I'm trying to cope with how much more remains. Because of the Dark Lord's whims."

"Whims?" Lucius sounded displeased.

"What else should I call them?"

"Plans."

Remus had nothing productive to say to that—nothing that wouldn't put him at risk of losing his new bed and perhaps his ability to look Lucius in the eye, anyway—and so he bit his tongue and gave a single, uninvested nod.

"Did you know whose letter that was, once you saw the handwriting?"

The sudden change in topic caused Remus to pinch his eyebrows together and bunch his fists up inside of his pockets.

"Pardon?"

"You heard me."

Remus had. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Abraxas's house as they passed it. Remus's collar was off again, but it still felt as though something was tying him and his captor together, a force pushing and pulling them as they continued in the same direction they'd walked on the equinox.

"I did know, yes."

It was strange to admit it, somehow, as if he'd divulged something intimate.

"There were several letters from her—and a few others. Sirius had terrible penmanship."

A genuine, very unexpected snort escaped Remus. An image of Sirius hunched over a piece of parchment, scratching out a letter in the Gryffindor common room flashed through his mind's eye.

"He really did," Remus sighed through a dry chuckle. "Atrocious."

Lucius didn't say anything at first, and when Remus glanced over at him, the Death Eater's eyes were a bit wide, as though he'd been caught off guard by Remus's good humour. Remus had been, too.

"Anything interesting?" Remus asked, tentative. He hadn't broached the topic of the letters since Lucius had arrived to take him outside. Hadn't wanted to, really. He was curious, but at what cost?

"Obviously there was, if the Dark Lord wanted to reward you," Lucius sniffed, sounding as though he was trying to regain his composure. "Some useful names, new directions to move in."

"Anything of interest to you, sir?"

It was a dangerous question to ask, but Remus had planned to ask it eventually. It had been difficult to gauge where things had stood between the two of them during Lucius's extended absences, and he knew that left him at a disadvantage; this question was sure to get a rise out of his captor, one way or another. There was also the added benefit that this line of inquiry was not focused entirely on his profound existential dread.

"Other than your lover's terrible handwriting? Not particularly. It was all a bit saccharine. I do know how you take your tea, now, though."

"Do you, sir?" Remus feigned impress, surprised by Lucius's apparent attempt at… what? Casual humour? "Well, I'm sure that'll come in handy, won't it?"

"Of course," Lucius replied, and Remus could tell that his captor was looking at him again, but the younger wizard didn't want to make eye contact. "That was the next reward I was cooking up for you, actually. Afternoon tea."

Remus let out another unexpected chuckle, catching them both off guard again. "Naturally. I'm glad those letters could save you the embarrassment of asking."

"Indeed," Lucius replied, voice awkward but not antagonistic.

Remus was still on his good side. He could work with that.

October 16, 1996

Lucius narrowed his eyes as he watched Lupin settle back into his cell. The werewolf's cheeks had colour in them again, and the dark circles under his eyes were lighter. His mood had improved after they'd stopped talking about his imminent change, and the more positive tone had continued over the last day. The dog hadn't said much that was new during the walk they'd just returned from, only confirmations and discussions of what Lucius had already guessed—but they were breadcrumbs that might lead him to a feast.

Lucius knew that he would need that positivity now, bringing up the topic that he was about to. Another kind of feast.

"The dinner will be happening soon," Lucius said as his captive bent down, picking up his water bowl and bringing it to his lips.

"Can't be that complicated, can it, sir?" the werewolf asked a moment later, wiping his mouth and setting the bowl back down. "Don't be an idiot. Don't speak unless spoken to—and only once you've given me your permission."

Lucius lifted his brows, a bit annoyed by Lupin taking the words out of his mouth and a bit pleased that he seemed to have actually paid attention to what Lucius had said in the past.

"Keep your eyes down, too. And certainly do not eat without my permission."

"Are they actually going to feed me?"

They. As if Lucius wasn't a part of it.

"I don't know."

As if he thought he wasn't a part of it either.

"Do you know how many are coming?"

"More than enough, I'm sure."

"Including V—the Dark Lord?"

"Of course."

"And…" the werewolf hesitated, eyes flickering around the cellar as he considered what he was going to say next.

"And?" Lucius pushed.

"And Bellatrix?"

"Of course," Lucius repeated, his stomach tightening. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"No," Lupin answered a little too quickly. "No, it won't be."

"This is serious, mutt. There is a very real possibility that the Dark Lord changes his mind in that room and kills you right then and there. No more mission. No more purpose. Just death."

Lupin considered the words and Lucius's face for a moment. "I know," he finally spoke, voice very serious. "I'll be careful, sir."

Lucius blinked several times, jutting his head backward as if he'd come too close to a flame. The words set him ill-at-ease. I'll be careful. They weren't even said in a joking tone; Lupin seemed to be trying to soothe his captor.

"Good," Lucius finally managed to spit out, clenching his jaw. "Good, then."

October 17, 1996

"Is your puppy all ready to be put on show, Luci?"

Bellatrix's mocking tone landed like so many knives on Lucius's ears. He had just showered and was headed back to his bedroom, still in a half-undone shirt and loose trousers, hair sopping wet. It was embarrassing enough to have to slink around his own home without running into his sister-in-law.

He sighed, turning around to look where she was standing, just down the hall—and found the much worse alternative to running into his sister-in-law. Running into her and his wife. Narcissa was with her, wearing a dark blue dress he hadn't seen in years, hair half-down. The sight of them alone together felt like an omen.

"Yes, sister," he forced out a reply, feeling keenly aware of how vulnerable and childish he must've looked to them.

"You could just ask to use our bathroom when you need it, Lucius," Narcissa cut in before her sister could speak again. Her whisper was low but infuriated. "You're embarrassing me."

Lucius baulked. "I—"

"Oh leave him alone Cissy," Bellatrix snickered, wrapping an arm around her sister's shoulders. "Men get strange when they're preparing to show off. He can't help his own vanity."

Narcissa's lip twitched, showing that her anger was not exclusively reserved for her husband, and that did make him feel a bit better.

"Have you prepared him yet?" Bellatrix asked, a twisted grin on her face. "Grooming is so important in these situations."

Lucius bristled. He hadn't.

"You haven't?" Bellatrix yelped, eyes wide, having clearly read the expression on Lucius's face. "Oh, my dear brother. You're missing out on such a lovely opportunity to watch him squirm. The Dark Lord did say you were enjoying that part, didn't he?"

Lucius thought he might choke on his own saliva. He ground his teeth and realised that his left hand had found its way to his pocket and the wand within.

"Enough, Bella," Narcissa hissed. "We're in public."

Bellatrix cackled and let go of her sister, announcing that she would leave them to their lovers' quarrel before she slinked off.

There would be no quarrel, though. Narcissa made sure of that. Instead of shouting, she looked Lucius dead in the eye and pressed her lips into a line. She had clearly understood what both Voldemort and Bellatrix were insinuating, but Lucius knew her well enough to know that she would never stoop low enough to ask him if it was true. It went against everything they'd ever done together.

"Good luck," she muttered, and then she was spinning on her heels and following after her sister, abandoning whatever mission had sent them in Lucius's direction in the first place.

Lucius slumped, turning around and walking back to his makeshift bedroom as quickly as he could.