Punished

Punished

*

Chapter 1

Something Wrong

*

"What's wrong, Remus?"

The werewolf's eyes shot up to his companion as he heard this question. With a slight sigh, he replied, "Nothing... Why do you think something is wrong?"

Lowering his book, Severus watched him intently over it with his piercing onyx eyes. "I've come to learn that if a Gryffindor is quiet for five minutes, they're either asleep, unconscious, or seriously ill."

"Sorry. I was just thinking."

"See? Just what I said, seriously ill. Or should I say, 'seriously hurt,' instead? For thinking must really hurt you. After all, you're a Gryffindor."

"Oh ha ha. You're so funny, Severus. Remind me to laugh." Despite his slightly depressed mood, Remus couldn't help but smile. He and Severus had become friends through the longest and most difficult way imaginable during the Second War. Nowadays, he was one of the very rare people Severus called by their first name - the others being Albus, Minerva, Poppy, and, rather surprisingly, Victoria Vector - but this hadn't stopped the insults and bickering between them. Other people watched their relationship in half amusement, half confusion, not knowing whether they hated or liked each other, and they fully intended to keep the others in confusion. It was much easier to them that way.

"Sure I will, my dearest friend. Unlike most people think, I actually have a sense of humour. It's maybe rather dark and twisted, but still, it's humour." Placing his book to the nearby table and turning the chair directly towards him, Severus asked, "Now, what were you thinking about? I've become so used to your presence that the previously comfortable silence is disturbing me. You were the one who spoiled me, so now it's your duty to satisfy my desire for noise and babble."

Laughing slightly, Remus replied, "I was just thinking about Sirius." His laughter died away as he said the words. He still missed his friend and lover, no matter how long time it had been since Sirius's death in the Department of Mysteries.

A slight sneer appeared on Severus's face; Sirius was a topic they'd never come to an agreement about. "Ah, the Headmaster's Golden Boy," he said. "Or should I say, one of the Golden Boys. Both Potters are the others, getting away with anything."

"You're still bitter about that incident on our fifth year, aren't you?" realized Remus.

"Why wouldn't I be?" the other man snorted. "Black almost got me killed, and you, too. I doubt the Ministry would have been merciful enough to put a werewolf to Azkaban, if that could be called mercy. And still, he got away from it after a bit of scolding. Do you call that justice?"

"He didn't get away with it," Remus said quietly. Suddenly, he felt bad in more than one way. How could he ever explain it to Severus? "Believe me, Severus, he paid for it. Paid dearly indeed."

"And how, may I ask?" snorted the Slytherin, clearly not believing him.

"Well, since Headmaster saw that he couldn't care less about what would happen to you," Remus said, "he decided to force Sirius face what could have happened to me."

Severus didn't say anything, he merely nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"Dumbledore got a magical record," the werewolf continued, his eyes wandering to the ceiling. "Of a real execution of a werewolf, by Ministry. It was a young girl, only seventeen, and she resembled me in a way - I think that Dumbledore did that on purpose."

"Figures that the person resembling you would be female," the Slytherin muttered. Remus shot him a glance, but didn't say anything. Soon, his eyes wandered back upwards.

"Dumbledore forced Sirius to watch it," he said softly. "Two hours a day, for two months. He couldn't turn his head, couldn't close his eyes. Whatever he did, he always saw - and heard."

"Didn't seem to affect him too much," the other man pointed out.

"That's because you never saw him in private. In public he kept up his tough mask as usual. But when nobody was around... Every time he came from his 'detention,' like they called it, he cried like the world had come to its end. He clung on me, asked a thousand times if I was real, if I was still alive. He apologized to me a thousand times, wouldn't let me leave his sight, watched my every step like the next one would throw me to the Ministry's hands. He had nightmares, he'd wake up in the middle of night screaming and sobbing, and would only calm down when we convinced him that I wasn't dead."

Severus nodded grimly. "Sounds like he really got punished."

"He really did," Remus said with the same soft tone as before. "In the end of it we were afraid that he'd lose it. He couldn't tell difference between me and the werewolf who'd been killed in the record. For a week he was convinced that I'd killed you and then I'd been executed, and I and you both were just ghosts wandering around, reminding him of what he'd done."

"Sounds just as insane as Black is usually."

Remus gave him a quick glare. "It isn't a thing to joke about," he said snappishly. "The point of this is that Sirius paid for his mistake, paid very dearly. He maybe hated you even more after it, but he has paid for what he did to you, despite all you might think."

"Fine," said Severus, with a surprisingly soft voice. "I believe you." For a moment, they were both quiet.

"You know," said Remus suddenly, breaking the silence, "that was what led us together. During one of his crying fits, he confessed his love to me. And I, well, I kissed him." Noticing the weird gaze Severus was giving to him, he said defensively, "What?"

"Nothing," the Slytherin replied, shaking his head slightly. "I was just thinking that that's just the usual Gryffindor behaviour. Rush into things your head first, ask questions later. Sounds bloody typical if you ask me."

"Well, fortunately I don't have to ask what you think of anything I do," replied Remus lightly.

Again, they were silent for some time. Then Severus suddenly said, "Show it to me."

"What?" asked Remus, slightly startled. "What do you mean?"

"Show it to me. Your memories of that time," said Severus. "I can see them with Legilimency, if you allow me that, but as you're a werewolf, I cannot penetrate your mind without your permission. So, I'm asking you to show them to me."

"I knew there was a reason I made friends with you," muttered Remus. "You know that it'd be more than polite to ask, even if you could snatch the memories by yourself, right? The penetration of mind required to find and see that many memories is forceful enough to be called a mental rape."

"I'm well aware of that," said Severus gloomily, and Remus immediately regretted his words. It was often easy to forget just how much they'd all been hurt in the War, mostly because he wanted to forget all that. Thus, he'd also forgotten that Severus had had his mind attacked and torn into pieces by Voldemort, who showed no mercy to traitors. It had been a miracle, a miracle caused by Merlin's grace and, by Albus's words, "Severus's stubbornness, which is too great to let him give up," that the man hadn't been turned into a babbling fool for the rest of his life. Most people would have been left to the state of little children after that - if they were lucky. More probably they'd just become insane and killed themselves.

However, Severus had come out of that hell. He knew everything there was to know about being the victim of "a mental rape," like Remus had called it. And now Remus had halfly accused him of doing that himself.

It was a pity that you couldn't pull words back. It was also a pity that biting his tongue into half wouldn't help any, either. Knowing both these facts, Remus stopped trying the latter, saying softly, "I apologize, Severus. I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," the Slytherin replied briefly. "I'm the one to blame, for saying it the wrong way. But anyway, will you show it to me?"

"Very well." Drawing a deep breath, Remus concentrated on the memories he wanted to show to Severus. Then, feeling the other man's mind probing his, he pushed the memories towards the other mind through the link of their locked eyes.

Severus fell into memories that were not his own, seeing the extreme punishment of his archenemy.