Bellatrix Lestrange was breathing hard. She had been holding this Cruciatus for over an hour, putting everything she had into it. It was exhausting, but it was working. She was sure of it. Yes, her foolish little cousin was still screaming like a banshee and flopping around like an earthbound fish, but she believed in him. He was so much like her, her favorite cousin. Any minute now, he would pull himself together and just cast one, miserable little wandless stinging hex. He could do that much. That's all she needed, then she would patch him up and let him rest. She laughed delightedly when Sirius finally, finally stopped screaming, though he continued to twitch spasmodically. "Yes, good boy. That's the first step. Now, hit me with something." She waited. Coming on two hours. Any moment now...

"Bella?" someone called her from the house. Dolph, probably. She ignored him.

"Come on, make me proud, Siri."

"Oh, Salazar. Expelliarmus!" Bella's wand flew from her hand. She spun to face her husband and snarled. "Don't interrupt me when I'm dueling, Dolph!"

"You weren't dueling anymore, Bella," Rodolphus said grimly. He darted past her and descended on Sirius, casting several diagnostic healing charms.

Bella rolled her eyes. "He's fine, Dolph."

"He's not fine."

All the anger suddenly fled her body. Nononononono. She lurched forwards, crashed to her knees next to Sirius and shook him. "Sirius, talk to me," she whispered frantically. Rodolphus cast a knock-back jinx at her. She growled at him.

"He's got blood in his lungs. Back off." She looked at Sirius again and really saw him, saw what she had done to her beloved little cousin. Half-lidded, staring eyes, left arm and leg twisted at unnatural angles... Still occasionally twitching. "How long were you holding the Cruciatus for? There's no physical head injury, but he's not waking up."

Panicked now at what damage she might have caused, Bella did the only thing she could think of. She yanked up the sleeve on her left arm and pressed her wand into the Dark Mark. Her skin blistered with the urgency of her summons.

And her merciful Dark Lord came to her, appearing less than five minutes later like an angel descended in majesty from heaven. She threw herself at his feet. "I'm sorry, my Lord. Save him, please. I'll do anything!"

"Apologies? From you? What have you done, Bella?" he asked, his words curious and unbearably slow.

"Tortured Sirius within an inch of his life," Rodolphus answered briskly.

Lord Voldemort made no move towards her cousin. "...Why?"

"I- it was a mistake, my Lord. I was trying to- to teach him. To fight through the pain..."

Voldemort tsked. "Bella, Bella, Bella, it is the Imperious curse that can be fought against and resisted, not the Cruciatus, not when cast by an expert as I trained you to be. Have you forgotten so quickly? Why don't you try? Crucio!"

The Dark Lord's power hit her like a thousand knives stabbing into her flesh, like hellfire burning her skin, like acid dissolving her insides. It was perfect, as always. And he was right, she couldn't fight it, only cower and writhe and howl in ecstatic agony. He let the spell go and dove into her mind. Bellatrix could Occlude, of course, but she never resisted him. He glanced through the disastrous duel, then reached back further, dwelling on the conversation she and Siri had had in the ballroom. The Dark Lord specifically said there was to be no public retaliation...Let's duel tonight. That way you can 'let off steam' without disobeying orders... disobeying orders... disobeying orders...

Voldemort wrenched his thoughts away, which elicited a horrible headache and urge for her to vomit. He turned from her to kneel next to Sirius. He pried open Sirius' eyelids. He gazed into Sirius' glazed and sightless eyes, frowning in concentration. Rodolphus fidgeted. Bella inched her way over to reach out and stroke Sirius' warm, slightly swollen hand. He would be fine. She believed in her Dark Lord. He could work miracles as no one else in this world could. Lord Voldemort leaned forwards, nose inches from Sirius' when he whispered, "It's over. You are Sirius Black. Remember that. Reopen your mind. Come back to us." Then he straightened up and idly tapped his wand against her cousin's forearm. She couldn't see the spell exactly, but thought it was a kind of glamour. "Rodolphus, come up with an explanation for how he came to be this way and have Abraxas or someone take him to St. Mungo's."

"Can you not heal him, my Lord?" Bella asked, shocked and afraid.

He glared disdainfully at her. "I did what was needful. I have better things to do this evening than correct your mistakes, Bella. He will be no use to me for weeks, because of your mistake. And if you ever need call me for a mistake like this again, you will regret it. It is hard to gain my favor, dear Bella. It is easy to lose it, and I have little patience for those who tamper with that which is mine. Assuming my faithful servant here survives, you will never have the honor of training him again. He will practice with Rodolphus, or Antonin, or myself. You will not even be permitted to watch. We will speak more of your further punishment in the morning." He stood up and flicked an immobilization charm over Sirius. "Go, Rodolphus."


Severus Snape was getting really, extravagantly bored helping Lily Evans organize her wedding planner. He almost regretted agreeing to be her un-traditional Man of Honor, but he stuck with it because he so much enjoyed Tuney's jealousy. He enjoyed James Potter's painedly tolerant expression at each planning session even more. Severus would have preferred Lily to pick some other groom, of course, but one took pleasure where one could these days. It could have been far worse. Sirius Black could still be part of their lives. Fortunately, the brute seemed to have slunk back to the mad, incestuous family that bred him and had not been heard from in months, much to James' disappointment, Lily's occasional concern, and Severus' glee.

He supposed he should thank the overly violent ex-Gryffindor. In a way, it was Black who had blessed him with his present, favorable circumstances. His brush with death had won back Lily's sympathy and friendship, which was worth losing Richard's and Felix's, all things considered. His humiliating defeat at Black's hands had eliminated the Dark Lord's interest in him. James' guilt over the whole affair led him, reluctantly of course, to recommend Severus for the open position in his father's potions company. Severus' initial job as one of several full-time potions brewers was easy and reasonably well-paid for a entry-level position, enough to cover his contribution to a modest two-bedroom apartment he split with Lily, at least until the wedding.

Fleamont Potter for Voldemort was a great trade in potential employer. Fleamont shared none of his son's worst traits (nor even a remote similarity to Voldemort, obviously). He had noticed and appreciated Severus' meticulous brewing and aptitude for invention within a few weeks and promoted him to part-time researcher, tasked with developing new Sleakeazy variants for different hair types and health conditions (including Severus' own greasy-scalp variety). He even blocked additional time in Severus' schedule for independent research towards a potions Mastery, without Severus ever needing to ask. Either sympathy and guilt went a long, long way, or Fleamont was a genuinely generous boss. He could never have achieved similar contentment joining the Death Eaters, even if he had somehow won himself a similar research-type position as Richard swore he could.

Severus found he quite appreciated comfort over excitement, thank you very much.

And so he helped Lily sort through tablecloth and napkin colors, floral arrangements, and so on and so forth without complaint.

They had just finished laying out fifty different shades of purple fabric swatches on the work bench in his research lab (the only table they could think of big enough to hold all of them), when the Terrible Trio burst into the room. They all looked pale and upset. James ran straight over to Lily, holding out the morning edition of the Daily Prophet. "Did you see this?"

"Calm down, dearest," Lily said with admirable patience. "See what?"

"Black Heir Admitted to St. Mungo's," he quoted immediately. Severus looked over Lily's shoulder to read the headline splashed across the top half of the front page. He gently tugged the paper from her unresisting hands.

"That's who it was?"

James nodded. "Pete sneaked in after the meeting and confirmed it."

"But... It sounded like Moody knew who it was when it came up. Why wouldn't he tell us? How could he think we wouldn't want to know? Need to know?"

"No idea."

Severus listened to the discussion with half an ear while he read the article. There wasn't much, more tabloid rumor than actual news.

Sirius Black, 18, was admitted to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Daily Prophet reporters can exclusively confirm. The young Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black was seen being transported urgently through the hospital lobby in care of Lord Abraxas Malfoy, to whom he is related by marriage (see page 6 for pedigree reproduced with permission from Nature's Nobility author Theodosius Nott). He appeared unconscious, and representatives from St. Mungo's declined to comment on either his identity or his condition. However, astute observers can only conclude even the status and reputation of the Black Family cannot guarantee safety in these troubled times...

The rest of the article speculated on what might have befallen Black, with possibilities ranging from youthful experimentation with mind-altering potions, to an assassination attempt, to punishment by his decidedly strict and forbidding family, to torture by the Death Eaters for nobly refusing to join their cause, like only a good Gryffindor and/or privileged elitist would when pressed. The only evidence to support any of these speculations was the poor-quality photograph accompanying the article, in which Black floated across the hospital lobby, half-obscured by a sea of scurrying people, probably both healers and hangers-on. The article called attention to the asymmetry of his hands, suggesting the left one was swollen from some injury. It also spoke of bruises and subtle spell signs that Severus could see for himself were embellishment at best but more likely totally imaginary. He folded up the paper and set it down on the purple-swathed table.

"He looked bad, real bad," Peter Pettigrew was saying. "I think someone tortured him. I heard one of the healers say every single bone in his left arm was broken and half the ribs on that side, but I didn't see any visible bruising. That's a bone-break curse. Can't be anything else. And he kept twitching."

"His parents must have gotten their claws back into him somehow," James muttered darkly. "He left all his stuff at my folks' place the day he disappeared. They probably snatched him off the street and imprisoned him in that awful townhouse or something." Severus raised an eyebrow. This sounded a little extreme even for highly controlling and abusive parents. More likely Black had run afoul of the Death Eaters somehow, probably by doing something exceedingly rash and stupid. Not that he cared.

"I thought he'd been sighted at the Malfoys'," Remus Lupin broke in.

"Maybe that was actually Regulus?" Peter said. As if anyone could mistake the rakish, rebellious Sirius for the always perfectly proper, always perfectly groomed Regulus Black, Severus silently scoffed.

"It doesn't matter where he's been all this time. The question now is what do we do?" Lilly said firmly.

"I'm going back tonight," Peter said instantly. "I'll go back every night to keep watch, at least until he wakes up and can tell us what happened." Peter was always the one volunteering for any of the Terrible Trio's adventures that required much sneaking about, for some reason. Perhaps because he was quieter than James and wouldn't show up on Dark Detectors like Remus.

"And I'll talk to Dad about visiting or if nothing else setting up a watch during the day. We can't let the Blacks take him again."

"I'll be part of the watch, absolutely," Remus said. Lily nodded firmly.

For some reason, they all looked at Severus. Severus stared back. "What?"

"Will you help?" Remus asked impatiently.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Will I abandon my full-time job to loiter outside the hospital room of my most hated enemy in hopes of putting myself between him and his famously violent and prejudiced pureblooded family? Hmm, let me think. No. And you shouldn't either, Lily. The Blacks would happily put a curse on you for breathing in their presence if they knew you were muggle-born."

"I'll wear a bubble-head charm then," Lily said stubbornly.

"Very funny."

"You're not going to talk me out of helping Sirius escape from the people who hurt him, Sev. Sirius has done a lot of things I don't agree with, and I'll never forgive him for hurting you like he did, but I don't leave people to be tortured and killed, either."

Severus sighed dramatically. "Fine. Go do your silly, Gryffindor saving-people-thing. If you are determined I help, I suppose I'll brew you some polyjuice, so at least you can be a little less obvious in your celebrity stalking."

James scowled, understanding perfectly well that polyjuice took a month to brew and therefore would be useless to their endeavor in all likelihood. Lily smiled serenely, even though she knew it too. That was a bad sign. "Sounds good. And you can also help by taking over all the wedding planning if James and I are too busy with this."

Severus smirked. "You think that's a threat, eh? Better be careful. I might let Tuney pick a yellow dress or give you a bouquet of skunk weed."

"As if. Nope, we're nailing down colors today." She gestured at the table of purple swatches.

"Better run while you can, Maurauders," Severus drawled.

"Go on. We have to figure out what's happening before we can do anything else. We'll talk later, James," Lily assured him. She kissed his cheek. As soon as the door closed behind the three men, she turned back to frown at him. "How can you be so blasé about something like this, Sev?"

"What part of 'he's my worst enemy' was unclear?"

"I know. I get it, and we will never be friends with him, but that doesn't mean we do nothing and let him be tortured. How can you be content to stand by when they're murdering people left and right?"

Severus groaned inwardly. That's what she was annoyed about. It wasn't about Sirius Black, but rather that Severus had no interest in joining Albus-bloody-Dumbledore's not-that-secret anti-Voldemort club. Lily and the Terrible Trio were all in it, he knew, although Lily was the only one who had explicitly told him so. He loved Lily like a sister, he really did, but she had a very annoying tendency to think all of her friends and loved ones should share her interests and opinions.

Severus folded his arms across his chest. "The same way you and Remus were content to stand by when Black and Potter were after me in school, I imagine. I don't care about the ideology of this war, Lily. I never did."

"Oh, really? You were going to join up on the other side if the Potters didn't swoop in and offer you something! Don't tell me you weren't."

"I was," Severus agreed. "Because I had no alternative. It was join, or else. I was working towards joining on my own terms, preferably in a non-combatant role." He spread his arms, gesturing around his laboratory. "But then this came my way. I'm neutral, and I'm staying that way."

"That's... that's so..." she struggled to complete the thought, because she didn't want to insult him out loud. The omission made her opinion obvious. Fill in the blank: cowardly, callous, evil. He had no insecure need to accept that kind of criticism from her anymore, though.

"You wanted me out Lily, and I am," he said in a tone that hopefully let her know he would take no helpful suggestions about his moral caliber today. "What more do you want?"

Lily glared at him. "You know why you have this job, don't you?"

"My peerless qualifications, surely," Severus said sarcastically.

"No. Sirius talked Fleamont into it."

"You're joking," he said after a minute.

"I'm not. He told Fleamont all about your potions grades, then told the Death Eaters he would join up but only if you weren't allowed in. And then he spied for Dumbledore for the last six months." She choked up. "And now he's in a coma or something." She scuffed her foot and looked up at him warily. "I shouldn't have told you. I shouldn't know in the first place, but I was there when Dumbledore brought Marlene and Ben McKinnon to hide with the Potters after the massacre. James wasn't. He was still helping with the obliviation effort at that concert, but the Ministry had let me go by then... Sirius saved them, Sev, faked their deaths for them. He's trying to make up for what he did. That's why I'm so upset..."

Severus didn't know what to think, so he merely said, "That is the most stupidly Gryffindor thing I have ever heard." He paused. "And remind me never to ask you keep a secret, you are so bad at it."

"You won't tell, will you?"

"Should have thought of that earlier, Lils. But no, I won't tell. Like I said, I'm neutral, and I'm staying that way. In fact, you should obliviate me of this juicy little piece of gossip so I can continue hating Black in peace, without fear of some Death Eater getting mad at me in the future for failing to leak it to You-Know-Who."

"...I'm sorry, Sev."

"You should probably ask Dumbledore or somebody to obliviate you, too."

"I'll think about it, depending on what happens with Sirius."

"Especially if you're going to be bravely and foolishly lurking around his hospital room where you can bet undercover Death Eaters will also be keeping watch."

"Okay, that's actually a really good point. I'll have Euphemia do it this evening, once Fleamont and I are done with the mandrake potion for Marlene..."

Severus suddenly recalled a few other random requests for mandrake potion over the summer. He'd brewed it and delivered it to Fleamont's desk without question at the time, because he honestly didn't care. He decided he still didn't care. "Thank you. Do you want to obliviate me now or later?"

"Now, I guess."

"Can you do an occlusion tag with the obliviation?" Such a marker would let his subconscious recognize that he had submitted to obliviation voluntarily and make it less likely for him to accidentally break through the memory charm. He was good enough at Occlumency it was worth the risk, since the tag would also allow him to Occlude the memory charm. Paradoxically, putting an occlusion tag on an obliviated memory in someone who was a mediocre Occlumens was as good as putting up a sign for any passing Legilimens to look here! Thank Merlin he had taken the seventh-year elective on a whim.

"Yes, if you think it's a good idea."

"Do it." He sat down in his desk chair and looked up at her, focusing intently on the conversation she needed to remove.

She pointed her wand at him. "Obliviate."

Severus blinked a few times and smirked at his best friend. "Going to jinx me, Lily? Was the threat of a bridesmaid dressed in yellow really that dire?"

"Yes. Can you imagine it with Tuney's complexion and my hair?"

"That was rather the point."

Lily lowered her wand and turned back to the table to admire the various shades of lavender, lilac, mauve, periwinkle, plum, and violet. "We're doing something with one of these purples, Sev, whether you like it or not."

"Well, it's your wedding. I suppose I can concede."

Author's note: I'd originally thought this story might have a fair amount of Snape's perspective in it, but then I realized, no, I just want Snape to be able to settle down and sit out the war for a change, maybe even get a chance of being happy. But I couldn't let go of the scene I had thought of ages ago of Snape hearing exactly what Sirius got up to. Mostly had to keep it for the "that's so stupidly Gryffindor" line, lol. Thank you for the reviews, much appreciated as always. Probably be back to Saturday updates this weekend.