Desperate Times

Sirius gazed numbly at the spot where Snape had been until moments ago. "I assume that was the call, then?" he said vaguely, even though he knew the answer. He knew perfectly well. Only one person, if he could indeed be called a person, could inflict that much sudden pain on someone.

"Yes," said Remus softly. "I hope he's okay. I'll tell Albus."

To say the least, Snape had risen a few notches in Sirius's estimations. Obviously, since he had found out that Snape was a spy, he had known that it would be unpleasant -- probably downright awful, in fact -- but he had never really thought about it. Snape was a proud bastard, he'd give him that, and he'd never admit to any weaknesses. Well, not in front of Sirius, he wouldn't, anyway. It was for this reason that Sirius had been shocked at the expression of outright agony on Snape's face, no matter how controlled he had managed to keep it. He had seen in his eyes an amount of emotion that he had never seen in them before. Disgust, fear, pain, anger. The spiteful words always coming from Snape's mouth had always been enough to seal his impression on Sirius. But in those few moments his face had been an open book.

Sirius still didn't like him, couldn't like him -- years of arguments, fights and hatred couldn't and wouldn't allow it -- but he seemed to have developed a sort of ... respect ... for what he did. And to never get any recognition for it. No credit, no respect. For a reformed Death Eater wouldn't be given any respect. And, frankly, Sirius felt more than a bit guilty. Maybe it was because he knew what it was like to be branded a criminal, a murderer.

As long as Snape never found out.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Severus Apparated into what appeared to be a graveyard, the pain in his arm mercifully gone. Of course, Severus knew that more was to come, if the Dark Lord's past behaviour was anything to go by. He looked around, a humourless smile gracing his lips. Typical. Of course he would feel most at home amongst the dead. The odd swaying yew tree broke up the endless panorama of gravestones around him. A few feet ahead stood a ring of cloaked figures. Severus walked forward, head held high, and took his place. Not everyone had yet arrived. "Why, Severus," muttered the person to his right. "How nice to see your senses haven't taken leave of you."

"Lucius," Severus greeted stonily. "I assure you that my senses are as good as they ever were."

"I'm pleased to hear it, Severus," Lucius replied. "We were rather worried when you didn't turn up to the first meeting." He sounded as though he wanted to say more, but at that moment Lord Voldemort stepped into the centre of the circle and everyone went silent.

"Ah, I see that one has come crawling back," he hissed. "Severus. Why, pray tell, were you not at our last meeting?"

Severus adopted a contrite tone of voice. "I deeply apologise, my Lord. I was unable to attend because I was in the presence of Albus Dumbledore at the time." He spat the Headmaster's name, feeling disgusted with himself as he did. "When Diggory and the Potter boy disappeared everyone was on red-alert. If I had Disapparated I would have been discovered."

"Ah, I see," said Voldemort. "So you choose your own skin over your Master?"

"No, my Lord. I would never. I merely thought it would be more beneficial if I were able to keep spying should anything go wrong. I was under Albus Dumbledore's nose all night, and I was unaware that Mad-Eye Moody was actually Barty Crouch."

Voldemort's red eyes narrowed. "And yet, when it was discovered you were unable to prevent that fool, Fudge, handing him over to the Dementors."

"My Lord, he was never out of Dumbledore's sight. I had no chance to set him free." It was a lie, of course, but Voldemort couldn't know that. "If I had been able to let Crouch go I would certainly have done so."

"Cowardice," hissed the Dark Lord, "is not something I am willing to tolerate."

"No, my Lord," murmured Severus. "Of course not. I will do better next time."

Voldemort considered him. "I know not whether to believe you, Severus. However, I am willing to give you the chance to redeem yourself."

Wonderful. "Yes, my Lord?"

"Two things, actually. One is to bring young Mr. Malfoy with you next time. It is high time he is brought into our ranks. Isn't that right, Lucius?"

Lucius Malfoy nodded. "Yes, my Lord. He has been looking forward to it. He will make you proud."

"I hope so, Lucius, I hope so." Voldemort turned his attention back to Severus. "The other thing I would like you to do for me is to find Potter's godfather and bring him to me. Wormtail tells me that Potter knows of his innocence, so undoubtedly that Muggle-loving fool Dumbledore does, too. Undoubtedly the werewolf will come after him, and if luck favours Lord Voldemort, so will the Potter boy. But of course, the attacks on the castle will prevent Dumbledore from leaving."

Good God. "Yes, my Lord. You will have him as soon as I find him."

"Good. Crucio."

Pain. Severus began to scream.

Thousands of white-hot blades were tearing him apart from the inside...the muscles were spasming, twisting, tearing...fire was ripping through his body.

It went on for a long time.

Just when Severus thought he was going to pass out from the pain, Voldemort lifted the spell. Severus lay sprawled on the ground, gasping. He couldn't have stood up if he had tried. His legs were like jelly, his arms were useless. He could still feel his muscles twitching, in shock from the abrupt end to the pain.

"Let that be a lesson to you, Severus," whispered the Dark Lord, looking disdainfully down at him. "I showed you forgiveness this time. Do not disappoint me again." Severus nodded weakly, dimly aware of a hot trail of blood streaming from his nose.

Two large, hulking Death Eaters hauled him to his feet and stood on either side of him, holding him up, for the rest of the meeting.

What was said wasn't particularly useful. The Headmaster had already guessed at most of it. Voldemort wanted to recruit the Dementors, the giants, werewolves, the Veela. He assigned the Death Eaters to various groups of creatures, and the circle disbanded.

Severus was just preparing to Disapparate when someone put a hand on his shoulder. He turned around. "Pettigrew," he spat.

Wormtail lifted his chin defiantly, though his eyes showed fear. He's no less of a snivelling coward than he was as a child, Severus thought disgustedly. "S-Snape," Wormtail began. "Has Sirius been at Hogwarts?"

"How the hell would I know?" Severus snarled. "What your psychotic friend Black does is nothing to do with me."

"Who knows of his innocence?" Pettigrew asked nervously. "Because if he finds me ..."

Severus's nose hadn't stopped bleeding and his muscles were still trembling. He bit back a sarcastic reply. It probably wouldn't do to get into an argument with Voldemort's lackey. "I don't know."

"W-Well ..." Pettigrew stuttered. "Well, if you find Black, he's an Animagus. A big black dog. Cast the irreversivo spell on him so he can't transform." His eyes took on a nasty gleam. "I wonder what he'd prefer ... torture at the hands of the Dark Lord or the rest of his life in Azkaban ...?"

"I don't know and I don't care, Pettigrew. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back."

He Disapparated.

**

Stumbling painfully through Brasov a few second later, he wondered whether he should just have stunned Pettigrew and brought him with him. As much as he enjoyed Black's status as the second most feared wizard in the world, he would also enjoy seeing Pettigrew's ratty little face when he realised he was stuck in a room with Black and Lupin. He knew for a fact Black wouldn't think twice about laying into him, but he was quite curious as to how Lupin would react. Ah, the possibilities ...

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Sirius and Remus were sitting in tense silence in the living room when they heard the front door open. They both jumped up and once and went out into the hall. There stood a pale, shaky Severus, glowering at them from beneath a curtain of greasy hair. A trail of dried blood crept down from his nose.

"Severus," Remus said, looking at him in concern. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Lupin," snapped Severus.

"What happened?" asked Sirius.

Severus scowled and began walking stiffly towards the stairs. "I'll explain tomorrow."

He got up about three steps when he went pale and would have fallen down if Remus hadn't reacted quickly and grabbed his arm. Severus blinked dazedly a few times.

"Do you need a hand?" asked Remus. Severus was looking extremely dizzy. He was holding the banister so tightly his knuckles were white.

"No, thank you," Severus snapped, regaining his balance, and began up the stairs again. He made it to the top in one piece.

Remus sighed. He looked at Sirius, who was glowering up after him. "Bloody idiot," he muttered. "Too much pride, that one."

"Well, he probably wants some rest. That looked like the after-effects of the Cruciatus."

"Hmm," said Sirius. "Well, seeing as that's him back, I think I'll head off to bed."

Remus nodded. "Me too."

It was a while before either of them got any sleep. Voldemort was obviously strong again, and the Death Eaters had been only too ready to return to him. Things were looking bad.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

The next morning Sirius wandered into the kitchen to find Remus standing with a cup of coffee in one hand and the Daily Prophet in the other. He looked up as Sirius came in. "Morning," he said, folding up the paper and putting it in the bin, an action that wasn't lost on Sirius.

"Morning," said Sirius. "Anything interesting in the Prophet?"

"No," said Remus. Too quickly. Sirius raised an eyebrow. Remus sighed. "Yes."

Sirius looked at him expectantly.

"Well, you're apparently being blamed for attacks on Muggles and Muggle-borns back home. I don't know whether they genuinely think it's you or they're just trying to cover up behind the Death Eaters, but ... well ... you can read it."

Sirius grabbed the paper out of the bin. His picture was on the front page. Well, if nothing else, I looked the part, he thought.

Sirius gaped furiously at the newspaper. "I can't ..." he began. "Shit!"

Remus was looking worriedly at him. "At least if everyone thinks you're over there they won't come looking for you over here," he said, sounding somewhat uncertain. "And they don't know you're an Animagus, still."

"Pettigrew does!" Sirius snapped. "All he has to do is tell his little friend, McNair, and I'm completely stuffed."

Remus shook his head. "They won't. The Death Eaters won't want you to get caught. They're using you as a scapegoat. You see? As long as you're free ..."

"They can keep blaming me," finished Sirius dully.

Remus sighed. "I know it doesn't seem it, but for now it's probably for the best."

"Yep," Sirius said with a mirthless laugh. "What's a few more names to my list, anyway? I'll get the Kiss if they catch me. Simple as that. I won't get the chance to say my piece. Even if they did give me Veritaserum they'd just think I could lie through it."

"We'll find Peter," Remus said. "They're getting confident. They'll make a mistake sooner or later."

"Knowing Peter, it'll be sooner," muttered Sirius. "Little rat. How is it that Voldemort and his little followers have everyone terrified when they're made up of people like Pettigrew, Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy?"

Remus shook his head. "Who knows? Lucius Malfoy can be pretty ruthless, I hear, but I see what you mean. Anyway, we'll just have to concentrate on finding Vladimir before they do."

Sirius nodded resignedly. "Is Snape up yet?"

"Yes, Black, I am," said a voice from behind him.

"Morning, Severus," said Remus. Sirius rolled his eyes. Why did Remus bother? Snape didn't have a civil bone in his body. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes." Snape walked into the kitchen and poured himself some coffee.

"So what happened last night, then?" Sirius asked impatiently.

Snape scowled and explained. Sirius wasn't remotely surprised to hear about either Draco Malfoy or himself. He didn't know much about the Malfoy boy, but if his father and what Harry said were anything to go by, he'd jump at the chance to be just like Father. "So what are you going to do?" he asked tightly.

"I'm going to speak to the Headmaster first. See what he thinks. I suggest you try to keep a low profile, Black, difficult as that may be for you."

"Why don't you just do it, Snape?" snapped Sirius. "Nothing would make you happier, would it? Especially if Harry did come after me. Two birds with one stone and all that."

"Sirius--"

"Don't be a fool, Black," hissed Snape. "I'm surprised you haven't gone barrelling in there already to get Pettigrew. Bloody Gryffindors. He was another one I spoke to last night, by the way. He seemed very pleased about the prospect of you being taken to Voldemort."

"Well, as long as you two are happy," Sirius replied, his voice dripping with malice. "You Death Eaters have to stick together, don't you?"

"Sirius--"

"You're as bad as any of them, Black. You just preferred to work under your own steam, didn't you? Or have you forgotten about the little attempted murder back at school? You didn't give a toss about your friends. Potter could have been killed and he --" here he jerked his head towards Remus "-- could have been disposed of. Isn't it odd how Pettigrew was the only one who wasn't involved? It must have been your influence in the end, mustn't it?"

"Haven't forgotten about that yet, Snape? I suppose, after all you did for your Master, it's the one pathetic little shred you could hold onto that could let you put the blame elsewhere. The important difference being that I didn't kill anyone. How many innocent people did you kill, Snape? And enjoyed it? You probably don't even know, do you? Typical Slytherin. No wonder you all went running to Voldemort. It's pathetic. You and your little friend Malfoy. You two were doomed to become murderers from the start and --"

"What was that, Black? Coming from the idiot who couldn't even tell that one of his best friends was one? The idiot who left Precious Potter and family in the hands of a Death Eater? Messed up a bit there, didn't we?"

Sirius saw red. He swung at Snape and was rewarded with a loud smack! where his fist made contact with Snape's face.

"Sirius!" Remus started forward to place himself between the two, but before he could, Snape had his wand out and had it trained on Sirius's face.

"If you ever do that again, Black," he said in a low, barely-audible voice, "you will be very sorry indeed."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. The dull ache in his right hand was satisfying. He was shaking with rage. "True colours showing themselves again, Snape?"

Remus stomped over, grabbed the wand out of Snape's hand and tossed it through into the living room. Sirius was surprised at the thunderous expression on his friend's face. One look at Snape, who was looking blankly at his wand hand, told him that he felt the same. "You two are just beyond belief," Remus stated flatly. "Can't you stop hurling accusations at each other? You keep covering the same ground, over and over again. Why can't either of you just let ... it ... go?"

His angry, questioning gaze flitted between the two. Snape pushed past Sirius and left the room. Sirius glared after him. "Bastard."

Remus shook his head. "Leave it, Sirius."

Sirius's mind felt split in two. He knew Remus was right. It was all in the past, and he knew it would be easier if he and Snape could just ignore each other. But just the sight of him made Sirius so angry. He was one of the scum who had worshipped the man -- the thing -- who had killed James and Lily. And countless other people. And he had the nerve to call him, Sirius, a murderer? If there was any justice Snape would have been the one who had served twelve years in Azkaban. But instead he got a good job -- a respectable job -- and suddenly everything he did is okay. Forgotten about. When Sirius's own face was plastered all over Wanted posters the world over. But, of course, Sirius had learned the hard way that there was no justice.

Generally, Sirius wasn't one for self-pity. But if one thing could drive him to it, it was seeing how the guilty party got treated when he himself didn't have a home, a wand, and was going to have to spend the next God-only-knew how long masquerading as a dog just to keep his own soul.