There are more snippets of dialogue over the next few chapters taken directly from or greatly inspired by the 1935 film and/or the 39 Steps novel.
Sirius was dumped onto his arse into the middle of blistering rain, his entire body aching. Within mere seconds he was freezing cold and soaked through. He could not see a thing, could hear nothing but the thumping of blood in his ears and the raging of the wind. Trying to focus, he heard a trickling sound somewhere beside him, which indicated some kind of stream, and…
Oh, Merlin, Sirius thought, as everything began to sink in.
There was a pull on the handcuff. A werewolf was sat beside him in the dark. His brother's murderer had taken both their wands and apparated them away. Sirius had no idea what to do. The night, and the thick clouds of the storm made him blind.
Sirius' body ached all the more as he tried to move himself as far away as he could get. His skin on his leg and hip felt like it had been shredded from his hit against the road. Cold rain was sticking his hair to his forehead and running down beneath the collar of his jacket.
'Where are you? Where are you, you bastard?' Sirius yelled into the raging winds, but his words were ripped immediately away from him.
His breaths came short and quick as he listened for a response. A thousand protocols were spinning through his head, but not one case study involved being physically attached to your assailant whilst he also happened to be a werewolf who had just murdered your brother that very morning.
Against the howling of the storm, Sirius heard a faint voice from somewhere to his left.
With a wince of pain, Sirius pulled his stiff body up into a crouching position amongst what felt like sodden rocks and scratchy plants, not daring to stand and feel the full force of the storm. He attempted to cover his face, but his right arm was throbbing with pain, and he could barely raise it above the height of his elbow.
'Give me back my wand,' Sirius yelled, but there was no response. He wanted to run at the werewolf, kick him into the mud, but there were bigger things at stake now than his own longing for retribution.
Sirius knew he had to think fast before he was murdered in cold blood, just like his poor wretch of a brother. There was nothing to stop the werewolf from simply cutting Sirius' hand off and making a break for it, leaving Sirius to bleed out on the desolate hillside.
Sirius cried out when he felt a hand grab at his sleeve. With his left arm pulled out taught into empty space, he scrambled backwards, but as he moved, his right arm buckled beneath him, and a harsh pain flared from his wrist to his shoulder.
There was obscure shouting on the air. The grabbing hand started up again. Summoning all his courage, Sirius kicked in the direction of the arm, and he heard a muffled yell.
More indistinguishable words sounded beside Sirius, and then there was a flash of light, and a strange bubble sensation enveloped him, wrapping silence around Sirius like a blanket.
The rain that had been hitting his face at a horizontal angle completely disappeared. Sirius felt the need to make his ears pop, and he might have worried he had gone deaf if it had not been for the sound of the werewolf breathing heavily beside him.
'Lumos Maxima,' said a soft voice.
An orb of bright white light flew up into the air above them. The light immediately lit the whites of the werewolf's eyes, who was far too close to Sirius for comfort.
'Give me back my damned wand,' Sirius yelled, even though the wind was now just a faraway hum.
The werewolf slumped back in his seat on the ground. 'Erm, I think not,' he said sardonically.
Sirius had been trained to deal with such high-risk individuals. The trick was to ask them questions and keep them talking, make them see you as a person, not as someone who is expendable.
Except this was a werewolf he was dealing with. There was no use in trying to appeal to his humanity. Sirius was simply prey to him, and as soon as the werewolf could, he would get rid of him. Why he had not already, Sirius was not sure.
The creature looked just as sodden and cold as Sirius felt. His side, front, and both of his arms were covered in a light brown sludgy mud. Looking down at himself Sirius realised that he too was drenched in the stuff.
They were on some kind of desolate moor, on an earthen path surrounded by thick lumps of scratchy heather.
The werewolf watched Sirius carefully. He had his knee pulled up to his chest and his wand in his left hand. 'If you make any kind of move for it,' he said, gesturing with the wand, 'I'll transfigure you into a toad.'
Sirius sneered at him. He was about to inform him that the handcuffs were imbued with magic that prevented such a spell, not to mention he doubted the werewolf could pull off such an advanced transfiguration, but then he looked properly at the bubble they were sat it. It was akin to an extended version of the Bubblehead charm, keeping back the elements whilst giving them a steady supply of fresh, clean air. It looked like advanced magic, and Sirius was impressed despite himself.
It was a relief to be out of the storm, even if the ground they were sat on was still sodden and the air freezing. The werewolf was shivering where he sat.
Sirius reached up his hand to wipe water from his face, and his arm flared with pain again. 'Oh, Merlin,' he muttered, trying to examine his arm beneath his leather jacket. From what he could see, the angle of the bone did not look at all natural.
'Look what you've done to me,' he bit out, pouring every ounce of his own hatred and disgust into his expression.
The werewolf cast his arm a glance, but his expression did not change.
Not only was Sirius' arm broken, but copious amounts of the pale mud were smeared all over his favourite leather jacket. His arm could be fixed up in no time, but his jacket was a one-off piece, his favourite possession, in fact.
It was like stubbing your toe at the end of a bad day. Sirius did not have any space left in him to be afraid as he roared at the top of his lungs and launched himself at the werewolf. He did it without thinking, forgetting about his broken arm, and as he swung widely, Sirius saw a flash of wide, shocked eyes. The werewolf said a spell, and Sirius was flung backwards.
Sirius fell back to the ground with a groan, almost hitting his head against a rock. The threat felt real to him now. It had been years since he had been so vulnerable.
Almost with longing, Sirius thought of how he had battered the werewolf to the ground in front of all those muggles. It was uncouth to throw a punch at someone, and it did not happen very often, but sometimes a red mist would consume his senses, and he would mindlessly lash out, wand completely forgotten.
The time he had laid one into Lavigne in fifth year was always the first instance Sirius thought of, and it had been worth it, even if he had had detention for months afterwards. When they were children, Regulus had always been upset when Sirius had fought back against their parents, before Reg had grown up and started calling Sirius' behaviour common.
Thoughts of his brother sent Sirius' mind reeling, and he scrabbled around in his mind for anything to drown them out.
'Can you just calm down for a moment?' the werewolf asked, his fingers flexing on his wand. 'I can't let you have your wand, can I? You'll take me to the Ministry.'
The werewolf's face was covered in blood from where Sirius had hit him earlier. It had smeared in the rain, spreading across his chin, making him look like he had been ripping into big chunks of meat with his teeth.
'Calm down?' Sirius asked as he pulled himself upright. 'You killed my brother.'
The werewolf looked quite frightful, covered in blood and mud as he was, but his expression did not look particularly murderous. He just looked tired, but looks could be deceiving.
'I swear, I didn't kill him,' the werewolf said, and Sirius was immediately irritated by how sincere he looked. 'They've framed me for it.'
The bastard was trying it on already, lying to him.
'Why have you brought me here?' Sirius asked, gesturing wildly at the moor. 'Good place to leave my body?'
The werewolf let his shoulders slump. He considered Sirius for a long moment, his eyes tracing over Sirius' face. 'If I wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead.'
Sirius had suspected as much, but he was not ready to feel relieved just yet.
'I'm not entirely sure where we are, actually,' the wolf said, not taking his eyes off Sirius. 'I was a bit distracted when I apparated.'
'Too busy staging a kidnapping?' Sirius spat.
The werewolf raised an eyebrow. 'Indeed.'
He looked too calm… worryingly calm. Was this ordinary for him, holding people hostage in the middle of nowhere, where no one could hear their screams?
'Can I take your hand?' the werewolf asked. He sounded fatigued, and Sirius noticed a slight Welsh lilt to his voice.
'What?' Sirius snapped, thinking he had misheard.
The werewolf then, to Sirius' surprise, put both wands into an inside pocket and began buttoning his coat up with one hand.
'I don't really want to spend all night up here. I would like to apparate us somewhere else, if you don't mind.'
Sirius was too slow as the werewolf's free hand grabbed his shackled wrist. With a quick flit of apparition, they had vanished from the wind-swept moor.
They landed on a damp patch of grass beneath a tree. The air was cold, but free of rain and wind, and the sky above was clear.
They were on the edge of a field, at the bottom of a steep valley. Long blades of grass were a purplish-blue colour in the moonlight, and they swished lightly in the wind, like someone was shaking out a piece of silk.
An old stone wall ran down the edge of the field. Looking over his shoulder, Sirius saw warm lights coming from a row of aged, stone dwellings in the distance.
'Where's this now?' he asked, forgetting his anger for a moment.
The werewolf looked around. 'This is where I meant to take us,' he said. 'It's a quiet village in the Lake District. Hopefully there won't be any aurors up here.' He stopped and tilted his head thoughtfully. 'Well, except you, of course.'
Sirius shivered involuntarily as a cool wind blew through his jacket. The werewolf shifted beside him, then muttered a quick spell. Sirius felt a wave of warmth envelop him.
'Should've done that earlier,' the wolf muttered, doing the same to himself. He had pulled out his wand from inside his coat pocket, but he put it away again just as quickly.
'We need to find somewhere to spend the night,' he said pragmatically. 'If I remember correctly, there's a bed and breakfast just down the road from here.'
'I'm not going anywhere with a werewolf,' Sirius said at once, as he clutched his broken hand to his chest.
The werewolf sighed, pushing himself to his feet. He looked quite a state, his long woollen coat still covered in mud as it was. 'My name is Remus, if you don't mind, and yes, you are.'
Adamantly, Sirius stayed sat on the wet grass.
Remus, as he so wished to be called, sighed. He reached into the breast pocket of his coat for a moment, but when he brought it out again his hand was empty. He shoved his hand into his front coat pocket instead.
'It'll be easier if you just do as I say,' he said. 'I have your wand, in case you've forgotten.'
Sirius considered this. Reluctantly he pulled himself to his feet.
The werewolf turned and started walking across the field towards the houses, pulling Sirius behind him as he went. Their arms swung awkwardly between them as they walked.
The werewolf then began whistling the same tune he had in the car. Sirius felt irritation flicker through him. He could see through the wolf's bravado. Sirius knew he was in pain. It was written in the tense look of his shoulders.
Despite it all, however, the wolf still had a glow to him, a warmth that earlier in the day had stuck out against the train seats and grey sky, and now seemed to radiate off him in the moonlit night. He had looked fuller and healthier in his photograph, but the wildness that had seemed to claim him since suited him. His hair was longer and kept falling into his eyes. It was still wet from the rain, but his loose curls looked more refined now, as if the rain had nursed them back to life.
It was all the more terrifying that he could look so inviting, when Sirius knew what he was.
Sirius had fancied the pants off Remus Lupin in that train compartment. He still did, if he was being completely honest with himself. Remus was still tall and striking. His round eyes and curls gave him an alluringly soft, androgynous air, and yet his scars made him feel dangerous. It made something zip in Sirius' stomach.
Sirius looked away and clenched his teeth. He knew he tended to go for mysterious bad boys, but fancying his brother's murderer was a new low, even for him.
Half of him could still not quite believe it, the fact that his brother had been found murdered in a pub in Knockturn Alley.
Someone at the Ministry had sent an owl directly to Moody on the train, apparently baffling the muggle passengers and forcing Moody to claim he was part of a travelling circus.
The more Sirius thought about it, the more he realised he could not remember his reaction to what Moody had told him. He remembered Moody's words, how he had been succinct in his explanation, as he handed over Remus' photograph.
It had made Sirius angry; he knew that much. The werewolf's split lip was evidence enough of that. Who would not be enraged, when faced with their brother's killer? His precious little brother, who should have outlived him, now destined for a cold hole in the ground.
A precious person, who Sirius had painted as evil and abandoned. The hypocrisy was not entirely lost on him.
A particularly tuneless note of Remus' whistling cut across Sirius' thoughts.
'What's the point?' Sirius cut out, feeling the insatiable desire to fire a barb at the werewolf in any way he could. 'What chance have you got, really, tied to me like this?'
Remus hummed under his breath as he walked along. 'Well, you see, I'm not the kind of girl who gives up just like that.'
'What?' Sirius asked, nonplussed. He was made all the more irritated when he saw the werewolf smirk.
'Nothing, nothing,' he said with a sigh. 'I like my chances more out here compared to with those two back in that car.'
'Because they followed the law and arrested you?' Sirius queried, hurrying to keep up with the werewolf's long strides.
'There was no portkey, Black,' Remus said blandly, 'or if there was, it wasn't taking us anywhere we would want to go.'
'Are you mad?' Sirius huffed, stopping in his tracks.
Remus winced as he felt the pull of the handcuffs, before he halted his own step, turning back to Sirius.
Sirius looked the werewolf up and down. 'You are. You're actually insane, aren't you, werewolf?'
Remus set his jaw, the lids of his round eyes withering slightly. 'I've already told you more than once; my name is Remus. It's quite rude to call someone by their species rather than their name, don't you think?'
'So sorry, Remus,' Sirius said, leaning forwards with derision. 'I do apologise if I offended your cold, twisted sensibilities. Do excuse me.'
'You're excused,' Remus said, in that infuriatingly bland tone of his. He looked in the direction of the muggle dwellings, then turned back to Sirius. 'Come on, let's get going.'
Sirius stood his ground. 'Don't you think it's better that we go to the Ministry, and you hand yourself in?' he tried to reason.
Remus just shook his head and laughed.
'If they catch up with us, they'll use the killing curse on you, especially when they see you're holding me hostage like this.'
The bastard only rolled his eyes at that. 'Can we get moving please?'
Sirius glared at the werewolf but reluctantly fell into step just behind him. His arm twinged as he walked, and he lifted it up to examine it. It looked like it was swelling, and in order to combat that he had half a mind to raise it above his head. He did not, however, want to look completely stupid in front of the werewolf, so he elected for pressing the arm to his stomach instead.
They came to another field, and he followed the werewolf as he climbed over the stile that separated it from the first. They stepped into shadow as they walked beneath a patch of trees that grew at the field's edge.
'The aurors will get you eventually,' Sirius insisted.
'They might get me,' Remus said quietly, 'but they weren't proper aurors.'
'Of course they were aurors,' Sirius muttered, half to himself, but it felt like a lie as soon as he said it.
Sirius had never seen Withers or Higgs before. The others aurors in Edinburgh had seemed to recognise them, and Sirius had seen a couple of them in the Ministry, but now he thought about it properly, the connection felt too tenuous.
Remus turned his head and looked Sirius right in the eye without a moment of preamble. 'They were Death Eaters.'
Sirius looked quickly away. Sirius had been wary for a while now, but hearing Remus say it so brazenly made him feel exposed, like he had been pulled naked into an arena with a thousand people pointing out his shame.
Of course, there had been whispers at the Ministry, mainly condemning the blatant corruption, but nobody had dared to suggest the cause, the reason for the new watchful eyes in their ranks. Even more unsettling were the people whose eyes sometimes looked glazed over, their personalities watered down compared to how they used to be.
'Even if you're right about that,' Sirius said slowly, weighing his words as he spoke, 'that isn't proof of anything else you've told me. It doesn't justify cold-blooded murder.'
'Ah, so you did suspect it already, hum?' the werewolf asked with a knowing tone.
'Us aurors are overworked as it is,' Sirius said, feeling defensive. 'Anyone and everyone could be a Death Eater or under the imperious curse. We've just been trying to get along as best as we can.'
'Indeed,' Remus said, nodding his head, 'and I'm getting along as best as I can by running in the complete opposite direction.'
Sirius stopped in his tracks again, pulling purposefully on the handcuffs.
Remus stumbled as he stopped this time and let out a hiss of pain, He turned to Sirius, the line of his nose curving upwards to where the tip of it was red from the cold. 'What are you doing?'
'Wherever you think you're running to, you're not bringing me,' Sirius stated, taking a step backwards.
The werewolf's eyes seemed to flash in the moonlight as he tilted his chin. 'Yes, I am.'
With his good hand, he reached out to pull on Sirius' wrist, but Sirius pulled from his grip, angling his body away from him.
Sirius was not entirely sure what he wanted to achieve. There was no way out of the handcuffs, and he had no wand to apparate himself away, but it felt wrong to not put up at least a little bit of a fight.
'For all I know, you're a Death Eater,' Sirius accused, tossing his hair out of his face. This accusation, Sirius was pleased to see, made the werewolf's expression grow graver.
'I'm not,' he stated plainly.
'You're a werewolf,' Sirius said, taking another swift step back, and feeling gratified when the werewolf lurched in his direction. 'I thought the Dark Lord loved working with your kind.'
'That might be true, but I don't want to work with him,' Remus said resolutely. 'I'm about as far away from being a Death Eater as it's possible to be.'
'Oh, yeah?'
'Yes,' Remus affirmed, clearly keeping his voice purposefully calm. 'As it turns out, they know that I know something I shouldn't, and I would venture those two in the car suspected you might know it too. They were taking us out into the countryside to get rid of us.'
'I'm a Black, they wouldn't dare. They would never get away with it.'
Remus huffed with derision. 'It's very convenient for them, isn't it, me being a werewolf. Gives them a good excuse. What's one more dead werewolf to anyone? And how unfortunate that the promising young Auror Black fell in the line of duty as he attempted to apprehend the escaping and terrifyingly dangerous dark creature. Job done.'
Black let the werewolf's words sink in. It was not too crazy in the sense that it could happen, but that did not mean Sirius believed it.
'I'm telling you the truth,' Remus said. He fixed Sirius with a resolute stare, and then his words seemed to spill out of him. 'I tried to tell you on the train,' he said, gesturing to emphasise his point. 'I can appreciate it sounded far-fetched, but it doesn't change the fact that You-Know-Who is up to something twisted.'
The werewolf pointed out into the night, like if Sirius were to look sideways, he would see the Dark Lord maliciously hunched over a cauldron in the corner of the field.
'And I mean way, way more twisted than normal,' Remus continued, taking a step closer to Sirius. 'Your brother told me about it, and now that he's been murdered, only I have a chance to stop it, and I could really do with some help, actually, if you wanted to stop being so bloody difficult.'
Sirius could not help but splutter and take another step back. 'I'm being difficult?'
'Please,' Remus said, looking over his shoulder, 'can we just…?'
'No way,' Sirius asserted.
Remus took a hold of Sirius' shackled arm again, but Sirius dug in his heels, refusing to move.
'Get… off…' Sirius bit out. He did not want the werewolf to touch him, did not want him anywhere near him, but his arm was still broken, and the werewolf was freakishly strong.
Sirius whacked his shackled hand against Remus' injured wrist, and finally the werewolf lessened his grip.
Sirius felt uneasy when he saw anger flash on the werewolf's face. He had seen the results of several horrific werewolf attacks. He had helped the Werewolf Capture Unit clean up the mangled bodies of their victims. Only half the time did they capture the werewolves responsible. For all Sirius knew, Remus was one of those werewolves that attacked people every month.
Moody had said that Reg had been killed with a swift Avada Kedavra. Perhaps, in a sick and twisted way, Sirius should have been grateful he was not ripped to shreds instead.
'If you think I'm going anywhere with you that isn't a Ministry cell, then you must be as stupid as you look,' Sirius said.
Remus let his head tilt back with frustration, his hair falling back out of his eyes. 'If you would just listen to me properly for one moment.' His golden-brown eyes were wide and sincere as he looked at Sirius. 'They were going to murder us back there.'
Sirius just sneered at him. 'So, I suppose in your mind you're being almost gallant, taking me away from them?'
'I just saved your life,' Remus said with conviction. 'Now I'd appreciate it if you didn't keep trying to snuff out mine.'
'I'm not trying to…'
'You're trying to convince me to hand myself in to the Ministry, and that in itself would be a death sentence, Death Eaters or no Death Eaters.'
Sirius was momentarily lost for words, and he was irritated when Remus rolled his eyes.
'They're rounding up all the werewolves. They've already executed one and no one cares. It'll be easy enough to pin us all with crimes that warrant execution.'
'Greyback deserved it,' Sirius spat at once.
'Yes, I know Greyback deserved it,' Remus said through gritted teeth, 'but you're missing the point. The Ministry has now established a system where they can kill werewolves as they see fit, completely without trial, and I don't really feel like being murdered by the state, thank you very much.'
Sirius just stared at the werewolf across from him. A light wind whipped down the valley, blowing Remus' hair about his face. Even in the low light, Sirius could still make out the numerous scars that littered his face.
'Can you not hear yourself?' Sirius asked. 'You're being so high-and-mighty, but you're just as bad. You deserve it just as much as Greyback did. You're a murderer, just like he was.'
Sirius knew he was being too antagonistic. The werewolf still had the upper hand. If Reg had been there, he would have rolled his eyes at Sirius for being so provocative, so stupid, when the odds were so clearly not in his favour.
But thoughts of Reg only made Sirius angrier, and opening his mouth he lashed out again. 'Death Eaters or aurors, you deserve whatever they dish out to you. Do the world a favour.'
Remus tilted his body backwards, his eyes blown wide. 'You seriously think I deserve death?'
'Maybe I do,' Sirius shot back.
Despite everything he had seen as an auror, he did not believe the werewolf should be executed. Sirius just wanted to make the werewolf hurt, make his face twist with pain.
Behind Remus' fierce expression, he did indeed look upset, and this fact alone made Sirius smirk.
The werewolf's eyes shifted then, growing narrower, more piercing, and a cold look of resolve came over him.
Sirius' satisfaction faltered as Remus took a step towards him. Sirius tried to stand his ground, but within mere seconds the werewolf had grabbed him by the scruff of his t-shirt and was pushing him backwards, deeper into the shadows of the trees.
Sirius' heels hit a trunk behind him. Remus closed in on Sirius, pushing his fist up towards his throat. His breath was warm against Sirius' face as he spoke.
'Alright then,' Remus said lowly. 'You're alone in the muggle countryside, wandless, in the dark. You're manacled to an evil, murderous werewolf; a known killer who doesn't hold an ounce of pity for your pathetic human life. If that's what you would rather believe, then by all means,' he said, and his eyes flared, 'be my guest.'
I'm not sure what the rules are exactly with apparating and having your wand, but I'm going to take it as a witch or wizard must have a wand on their person to channel the spell, but they don't necessarily have to be holding it in their hand.