The Most Bitter Sting

By DuoLordOfDeath

~*Prologue - Death*~

November 4, 1980

8:24 AM

A silencing charm...that was why it was so quiet. The screams of the damned couldn't escape those hellish walls. But the cold...the bitter cold...it was unearthly, ethereal...not at all a normal chill. The gloom grew as the small craft neared the isolated island, and those aboard it felt the iciness of lament and grief, as though all cheer was being taken from their minds. Beneath the craft, the icy water sloshed heartlessly, promising a painful, wicked, and slow death to any who fell into those cruel depths. The morning was cloudy; and the fog was so thick that it seemed to permeate everything. No smiles graced the few that were aboard...for they were nearing fear and hatred incarnate.

Azkaban.

The word was enough to send shivers up and witch or wizard's spine...for fear itself resided there. The stench of death and hatred were its marks, and terror guarded those black gates. Anyone sent to this place would die a terrible, ghastly death...for they would never die. Only their souls would perish, leaving them a shell of a person...the death of their souls, taken by the ever-hungry guards of Azkaban. The dementors.

Silver-blue eyes looked up from the grey water as the looming prison came into view through the soupy fog, and his strong, able hands pulled thick, patched robes closer about his thin form. The icy wind brushed harshly against his face, blowing silver-flecked hair from his face, revealing his stern, emotionless expression. Fists clenched around the folds of his robes, and anger once again filled his mind. The dementors would have little effect on him. He had little to be cheerful for now...

"'And the devil, who decieved them, was thrown into the lake of fire...he will be tormented day and night for eternity...'" he said softly, quoting the book of Revelations. "I never thought to see the gates of hell...but here I stand..." he added in his silent, angry reverie. Traitor...deciever...murderer...lover. Sirius Black had been many things...but now, he was nothing to Remus Lupin. Nothing but a betrayer. He had believed the false trust he had found in Sirius' arms...and found nothing now, but emptiness and hatred for him. "And now, you bring me to the gates of Perdition...how swiftly you went from being my heaven to my hell..."

He looked up at the huge, black prison with quiet contempt as the small boat docked; the slight jolt moved him slightly but he did not flinch. After a long moment of staring into the fog, he slowly stepped from the craft and onto unholy ground. Icy water leapt at his ankles as he stepped to the land, and he looked up as the Minister of Magic stepped up to him. There was a silent acknowledgment between the two, and Remus could sense that this man did not trust him at all. But how could he...the signs of lycanthropy were obvious upon his young face. Nevertheless, Remus extended his hand grimly, but his greeting went unheeded.; his hand looked down upon as if it were diseased. The Minister looked at him with suspiscious disdain, then turned, his footfalls faint upon the dirt path. The air hung heavily with eerie silence; the slight sounds of the small party's footsteps sounding obscenely loud to Remus' enhanced lycanthrope hearing. He held his head high as a line of dementors, tall and ominous, met them at the door. A slender, rotting hand slid out from under the ebony robes and looked at the group silently for a moment before pushing the great doors open.

Loud, terrible shrieks fell upon the still wind as the door creaked open, causing Remus to look up with a pained expression. The Minister looked unmoved, though his face was creased slightly with the strain of the dementor's influence. He looked over at Lupin with a strange look; finding it odd that the lycanthrope was seemingly untouched by the dementors. He stopped for a moment, and finally stepped in. Remus followed, but instead of the warmth that comes from a building, a chilling sensation met him, creeping to the very marrow in his bones. Gently, he reached a hand into a pocket in his robe, and took himself a piece of chocolate, which he ate grimly as the Minister led him into a quiet, confined room. Remus looked about; he could not see any of the inmates...but their screams...he heard them despite the silencing charm that was upon the room.

"So, I understand that you are here to speak with Sirius Black, is that correct?" the Minister asked Remus, venom clear in his tone. Remus swallowed the warming chocolate and nodded firmly, slight tones of fury and hatred gleaming in his eyes.

"Yes, that's correct," he replied, standing near the door. He could see the dementors wafting across the floor outside, feasting on the terrified emotions of the inmates...he could feel the despair and terror in this place...

The Minister chuckled slightly. "I have a feeling you will be his only visitor," he replied, and stepped up beside Lupin, reaching for the door. He noted Remus' expressionless face, and stopped. "Mr. Lupin..if I may..." he paused, and Remus nodded firmly. "Well...Black is silent when he is awake...I've never seen anything like it. He dosn't scream; nor speak...he just sits there. But...in his sleep...for the past two nights since he was brought here after the death of Pettigrew, he mutters a name in his sleep..."

Remus felt his blood run slightly cold. "Really?" he asked softly, his voice cracking slightly with a burst of anxiety. The Minister nodded.

"Yes, he keeps whispering the name, "Moony". Do you have any idea what this might mean?"

Remus fixed the Minister with a firm, haunted look. He swallowed hard.

"Moony...yes...he was once a dear friend of Black's...but Moony's dead now..."

A strange, almost wounded expression floated upon Remus' countenance for a split second as he spoke this, and then it was gone, replaced by the same firm visage. The Minister looked at him oddly, and nodded.

"I see...well, then I will let the dementors lead you to him. I will await your return on the boat outside."

Remus nodded, and stepped out of the silence and into the horrid screams. The dementors glided beside him; nearly blending in with the inky black walls. At the end of the small corridor there was a great pair of double doors, and with a mere glance at the door, the dementor opened it, and the screams were amplified tenfold.

The stench of blood and death was nearly as pronounced as the screaming. Sweat and fear came from each cell, and more than a little blood crossed his path as he walked. Wild-eyed witches and wizards hung on the bars as he passed, screaming horridly. Others babbled indecipherably, reaching their dirty hands out to Remus. He pulled away instinctivly as they passed through the first wing, his eyes trying to block out the horrors of this place. What the rumors had said of this place hardly did it justice. In some cells, bodies lay, covered in blood and other bodily fluids, awaiting their last resting place at the bottom of the icy North Sea. Vomit stained several of the live inmates' ragged attire, and some...some said nothing. Some were deadly silent, but eerily staring ahead at nothing with wide, unclosing eyes. Looking away, Remus closed his eyes for a moment...these terrible images...

It seemed like an eternity before the dementors stopped him. Remus looked ahead for a moment, then slowly turned to his left, looking into the shadows of a dark cell. His eyes narrowed slightly at the figure who sat complacently before him, surrounded by darkness and magically reinforced bars. Messy black hair hung damply to his handsome yet haunted face, and ragged black robes hung upon his slowly thinning frame. His face was hidden by darkness, all but one haunted grey eye, that peered down at something invisible upon the damp granite floor. His knees were drawn up to his chest, and his strong arms were wrapped about his knees. But he said nothing, nor did he look up Remus.

Remus lowered his arms, his fists slowly clenching as the dementors floated away to the head of the wing. Silvery eyes gleamed with betrayal in the dim light, and his face was stern with hatred.

"Sirius..." he began, his voice quavering slightly with unbridled anger. "I have to wonder...was I next? I suppose it was the only respectable thing to do; kill all your friends for your dark master, and then come after your...your lover." He spat out the last word as if it held a terrible taste upon his tounge. "Did you keep a gun with silver bullets in the chamber under your pillow at night; awaiting the proper time to put the barrell to my head and finish your holocaust? I only suppose it would be right, now wouldn't it?"As he spoke, his voice rose to a slow shout, rage dripping in his words.

But Sirius spoke not a word. Silent, he sat there, not even acknowledging that Remus was standing there.

"Too ashamed to even look at me; I might have known" Remus spat, stepping up to the bars. He gripped the bars, tuning out the terrible shrieks behind him. "You sit here in this hell, thinking about your glorious deception...you bastard; I feel no pity for you." His voice again grew deadly soft, and his eyes narrowed. "That night you left to hunt down Peter, you left me alone under that moon...you left me alone in my own personal hell...so why should I pity you, traitorous bastard?" He paused, gripping the magical enhanced bars so tightly that his knuckles started to turn white. "Come to think of it...you've always been somewhat of a traitor...I remember that incident with Severus Snape...Why I let pathetic sentementality sway my judgement after your first betrayal, I'll never know. I guess once bitten twice shy doesn't apply to werewolves. Why don't you save us both the pain and the torment and just kill me next time?"

Finally, slowly, Sirius raised his head heavily, and looked Remus in the eye. "There won't be a next time...will there...?" he asked, his charming voice no longer smooth and warm...but cold and harsh...

Remus gave him a cold look. "I thank God for that..." he spat. "But now...now you'll know my pain...we are alike...you and I, though I hate to compare myself to a backstabbing murderer...you will live jut like me...with no friends...no family...and no one who loves you..." The silver-blue eyes had gone emotionless and hard. "Good bye, Sirius..."

Sirius watched his lover's hands fall icily from the bars, and lowered his head again. If only he knew...he closed his eyes as he heard Remus' footsteps echo down the hall, and for the first time in the past three days, a few tears fell down his sweat-streaked face.

"Moony...you've died...and with you...so have I..."