Disclaimer: I don't own HP.
To Eos-fiordineve: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I was so happy to get a response. I can understand your dislike for Remus and Dumbledore. Perhaps you'll enjoy the subtle negativity towards Remus in this chapter. Thanks again!
Chapter 2
"Just let me die," Sirius muttered to himself when he was finally left alone.
Every part of him hurt. His head throbbed, his back stung, his stomach growled from hunger, his throat felt like it was on fire, and the skin on his wrists was rubbed raw from the chains. Sirius tried to lay down, but finding a comfortable position proved to be difficult. Whether he lay on his side, back, or stomach, he couldn't ease his strained muscles or aching bones. It didn't help that Voldemort left him in a dungeon with freezing air that had four small walls and a floor just as cold. It also didn't help that he wore nothing but a tattered pair of trousers that hardly covered anything. Sirius finally settled to sit as far away from the door as he could without pressing any of his skin to a wall. He pulled his knees close to his chest with his arms and rested his head on top.
About twenty minutes passed before the room's temperature dropped even further and a familiar feeling of dread and panic fell over him. How foolish he was to believe that his torture would end simply because the Dark Lord and his followers needed to rest or eat. The man tried to stay calm as the Dementors approached him. He thought of Harry and Remus and James and Lily, but eventually those thoughts disappeared and all he had was fear, guilt, and a thousand awful memories.
"We switched!" Sirius was screaming at nobody about thirteen years ago. "It was Peter! That rat!"
He punched the walls and kicked at nothing, imagining it was Wormtail. No wonder people had no trouble believing he was a deranged serial killer. Sirius continued to shout, not caring that none of this would be heard. He had simply needed to get it all out.
"I'm sorry, James! I'm sorry, Lily! It's all my fault, Harry," he sobbed on, knowing that Harry would now be forced to grow up an orphan in his aunt's home. Sirius had heard nothing but awful things about Lily's sister. Hopefully, Remus or anyone else would volunteer to take in the child. Almost anyone would be better at raising him than a bunch of magic-hating Muggles. Harry deserved to grow up with someone who gave him everything he needed, someone who could tell his stories of his parents, and love him unconditionally. Would Petunia and her family even love him at all? Could they be that cruel?
"Remus, please save me, Sirius begged. "You have to know...you have to know deep down that I could never have given them up to Voldemort. I would've done anything for them. No matter if I was threatened with death or tortured. Remus, you have to know I'd rather have died than hurt them."
Remus wasn't there to hear him.
The memory faded to one more recent.
It was the first night he got to meet Harry and it went all wrong. Remus was slowly transforming and he hadn't taken his potion. Sirius told Harry to run as it happened, but the boy refused to move (likely idiotic bravery, one of the lesser qualities of his father that he inherited). The werewolf freed himself from Peter and the Weasley boy and was now snapping his jaws and growling.
Sirius became Padfoot in that moment, launching forward at his old friend to protect the children. Remus must have scratches or bitten him. It hurt, but it hardly matter as long as the others were safe. He couldn't be changed in his Animagus form so he could be torn up as he needed to be.
In the midst of the fighting, Peter stole one one of their wands, transformed, and slipped away. Sirius felt the dread falling over him just as it had that night when Harry told him what happened. One of the major reasons of escaping Azkaban besides keeping Harry safe was killing the rat. The rat also remained the only proof that he was innocent unless one counted the words of a werewolf and three children. Sadly, most did not.
He thought everything was over then.
A little over a year passed.
Against all odds, Sirius managed life on the run pretty great and soon he would have an actual home. Of course it was a home he hated, a home filled with dark magic that once belonged to the family he hated (he almost preferred bouncing between deserted islands and strange Muggle cities), but a home nonetheless. The process of reviving the Order of the Phoenix seemed to be going well. He thought it was safe to return. Dumbledore, Remus, and a small crowd of others were waiting for him at Grimmauld Place but he never even made it there.
"Sirius Black," an unfamiliar voice greeted him from behind.
He jumped an turned around to face the man, but he wore a mask. Obviously, he was a Death Eater. One by one, over a dozen like him appeared on the spot. Sirius put up a fight, throwing curse after curse and taking two or three down, but they overpowered him.
He was taken to Voldemort.
Every memory after that was the same torment. The Dark Lord and his followers hurt him in almost every way imaginable, Muggle and Wizard methods. He was beat and whipped and cursed and jinxed. They pressed knives against his skin, denied him food, and cleaned dried blood off of him by dumping both ice cold and burning hot water over him. Sirius tried to run, but he never got far. He begged and pleaded with no result. They laughed at him, kicked him, slapped him, spat on him, and tore away his clothes. Voldemort continued to remind him that it all would stop if he simply joined him and knowing that he had an easy way out nearly destroyed him. Sirius felt like giving in, but something inside him told him not to even though he couldn't remember it now.
AN: So there's the second chapter. It's a bit longer than the first. Tell me what you think! Thanks for reading! Either the next chapter or the one following that one will feature everything going on from Remus's view and what's happening elsewhere.