The Last Marauder

The Prisoner

[nearly two months ago]

Shortly after Sirius had stormed off from his cottage after they had had this horrible fight, Remus started preparing for his werewolf transformation that night.

How painful the transformations were depended on his emotional state and he could already guess that tonight would become a torture. He was still angry, confused, hurt and sorry at the same time, not a pleasant combination for what was about to come.

Now it was time to check the wards around the garden shelter.

Remus stepped into the garden and took a deep breath of the early evening air. He didn't feel like locking himself up, tonight he felt like running free.

Normally he was too scared that he could hurt somebody and only ran free when Sirius was with him but tonight he put all the doubts aside. His cottage was far away from any town and even if he ran towards the nearest inhabited house during the night he would never reach it before the dawn would come. And it wasn't hunting season so his chances of biting a nightly hunter were extremely low.

No, he would run free tonight.

An hour later, the werewolf Remus Lupin was running off into the forest at the precise moment when the door of his cottage burst open. He did neither see nor hear the nine hooded figures entering his house, searching it for him.

Remus returned hours afterwards. The night was not over yet, the moon would still be there for at least an hour or even slightly more, but he had run enough tonight. He wanted to lie down in the garden shelter and wait for the transformation.

As he ran out of the forest, he saw that his house was on fire. His eyes widened at that sight, for the Dark Mark was shining in the sky over his house.

The animal instincts that still had control over Remus' actions told him that the danger might still be present, maybe only waiting for him to return behind the garden door.

He turned around and ran off towards the forest again.

Remus ran away from his cottage as fast as he could. He knew that he needed to get away fast, he had only a couple of precious minutes left before he would change back into human again.

By the time that happened he was so exhausted that the transformation turned out to be awfully painful.

He needed to find people to help him and he needed to find some clothes. The most vicious thing about those werewolf transformations was that, unlike in case of the animagi transformation, he couldn't keep his clothes on.

When he had regained human form again he found himself lying naked on the ground, somewhere in the middle of the forest.

He heard a twig break under the weight of someone behind him, but before he could turn around he received a blow on the head that knocked him out. Far in the distance he could hear voices.

"Was hard enough to keep his track. What are we supposed to do now?"

"At first we'll cover him in this cloak. Then we shall bring him to the Mansion."
"He will be very pleased with us."

"Indeed."

Something warm fell onto his body and then everything went black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he opened his eyes again it took Remus some time to recall what had happened. He didn't know where he was.

Remus sat up carefully for his head was hurting like mad. He examined the back of his head with his hands and was not the least surprised to feel a huge bump that hurt when he touched it. He looked around.

He was sitting on a prank bed which was located in some sort of dungeon.

There was no further furniture, only the plank bed and the stone walls, a small sink in one corner. A door was in the wall on the opposite side of his bed, but it was closed.

Remus knew that he didn't have his wand with him, it was still lying in the living room of his cottage - no, it surely wasn't lying there anymore. The house had been on fire when he had last seen it. He'd be surprised if there was anything left of it, let alone his wand.

While he had been unconscious, someone had put a pair of trousers and a shirt on him, a fact for which he was nearly thankful. This dungeon felt like an icehouse.

In front of the prank bed stood a pair of boots, which Remus also pulled on.

He was just about to start examining the dungeon, when the door flung open and a blond, pale faced man stood in front of him.

Though Remus had never seen him in person he recognized him. He had taught his son at school. The resemblance between the two of them was unmistakable.

"Malfoy."

The man smirked and stepped a little closer.

"I see that the transformation doesn't rob your senses, at least the parts of it that were left to you anyway."

"What do you want? Why did you bring me here?"

Lucius Malfoy laughed coldly.

"I am not here to inform you about what I intend to do with you. You are here for a reason, believe me.

I just wanted to make sure that you are perfectly comfortable...and to have some entertainment."

He pulled out his wand, pointed it at Remus' chest and yelled.

"Crucio!"

It felt as if his intestines were going to burst. Remus sank down to his knees and screamed in pain.

The werewolf transformations always took a lot of strength from him, and last night had been the worst for ages. He would not be able to stand the Cruciatus Curse for very long.

Obviously Malfoy knew that as well, for he removed the curse from Remus quite soon.

"I'm sorry I cannot entertain myself any further, but driving you insane with that curse would not be supportive for my master's plan. I'll think of something else before I come down here again."

He turned around towards the dungeon door, but spun around as if there was something important he had forgotten to do.

"Oh, I nearly failed to remember one thing. You surely need something to distract you while you are sitting here in the dungeon."

He took a copy of the Daily Prophet from the inside of his robes and threw it on the floor next to Remus.

"You will be here a little longer, maybe I can find a nice article on your funeral to bring you in a couple of days."

He left the room and slammed the door shut behind him.

It took Remus a couple of minutes before he was able to rise to his knees again, but he immediately grabbed the paper.

What had Malfoy meant with 'your funeral'?

When his eyes fell on the front page, he knew. He saw a picture of his house, only that very little of his house was still there, it was all burned down. So was the garden shelter.

He read the article and felt like throwing up. The Ministry thought he was dead! Malfoy must have left the body of someone in the garden shelter!

Surely they had expected him to hide there and wanted to take him, but when they found out that he had run free that night, they must have followed his track.

'Oh shit! Sirius! That...that's too much for him!' Remus clearly remembered the last words he had said to his friend. '...I don't want to see you again. NEVER.'

He had regretted those words immediately after Sirius had left and now his friend thought he was dead...

Remus crawled into the corner and was violently ill into the sink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following days had dragged on. He had had very little distraction in his dungeon, but he was rather thankful for it.

Remus sat on the prank bed in the dungeon and stared at the latest edition of the Daily Prophet he held in his hands.

Malfoy had made sure he received it, but the price had been high. So far, Malfoy had entered the dungeon every day, and every day he had used various curses to torture Remus. Or he had simply beaten him up muggle style.

Every muscle in his body hurt and he was sure that he had broken at least two of his ribs when Malfoy had kicked him in the side, but that was nothing compared to the pain he felt when he looked at the pictures in the Daily Prophet.

His own funeral seemed to be the main issue in today's copy. A large report covered the front, and a list of the guests and reports concerning his life and that of his friends covered the following pages.

There were two pictures on the front page.

One showed Dumbledore, the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry and Sirius sitting in the church. Though it was a magical picture, the figures hardly moved. Molly Weasley dried her eyes from time to time with a handkerchief and Dumbledore threw angry glances at the photographer, but Harry and Sirius simply stared into the direction of his casket.

They were sitting close to each other but appeared to be worlds apart. Sirius' eyes were empty, Remus had only seen him like that once before - on the pictures that showed Sirius being arrested and brought to Azkaban.

The other picture had been taken on the cemetery itself. It was hard for Remus to look at a tombstone that carried his own name.

The picture must have been taken long after the service had been over for there were only Harry and Sirius standing in front of the grave. They had their backs to the camera and didn't move, but Remus could see that they held tightly onto each other's hand.

He threw the paper onto the floor and started sobbing into his small pillow.

Sirius had not earned to go through this! He was alive, but his friend was mourning for him, that wasn't fair! If he would ever get the chance to lay his hands on Malfoy, he surely would not show any mercy.

He let out a groan as a sharp sting of pain coming from his ribs nearly made him faint.

He would have lost track of time already if he hadn't had his supply with papers that Malfoy gave him nearly every day. More often than food anyway. But Remus wasn't hungry. All he wanted was getting out of this fucking dungeon and tell his friend that he was alive, but he saw no chance.

He was too weak to escape, and nobody would be searching for him. Why search for somebody whom you had just buried?

Remus closed his eyes and fell into a sleep that resembled an unconsciousness more than anything else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He remained in that state for the following weeks.

Everyday, Lucius Malfoy came into the dungeon and delivered a copy of the Daily Prophet. Everyday, he tortured and cursed him.

Lucius seemed to enjoy Cruciatus more than anything else but he didn't use it often enough to make Remus go insane. He had other means to torment him. Remus' body was covered in marks from the many curses and hexes he had to endure, there were bruises all over his chest, belly and sides and dried blood covered the scratches he had received from falling to the floor or being thrown at the wall.

Remus had not seen his own face for some time but he was sure that it didn't look any better. One of his eyes had been bruised badly last week and the swelling had not gone back completely.

The only time when Lucius had left him alone had been during full moon. He had stayed without water or food for three days and the transformation had nearly killed him. His body did not have any resources to gain strength from and he had hurt himself badly while being a werewolf.

Obviously it was Malfoy's task to keep him alive for he had provided him with more food and water after full moon. Not that Remus cared.

Whatever they wanted to use him for, he was sure it was better to be dead than to be used for Voldemort's purpose.

With a sigh he looked at the date on the front page of the paper. September 12^th. He was here for nearly seven weeks now.

Remus let the paper fall onto the floor and closed his eyes.

He had just drifted off into sleep when he heard the door being unlocked and the familiar face of Lucius Malfoy appeared. He seemed to be more angry than ever.

Without any word, he pulled Remus to the floor and put him under Cruciatus. Just as Remus thought he would faint, the curse was removed from him.

"Can you guess what I just got to know?"

He pulled Remus up by his hair and slammed his fist into his face. Blood began oozing out of his nose.

"Do you know what they just told me? They told me that they might not need you anymore!"

A lump of fear formed in Remus' stomach. Had Malfoy come to kill him eventually?

"They told me that they might have discovered a better way to get hold of Potter, a better way to torture him and Black, a better way than using you!"

The fist connected with his throat and took away his breath.

"I have had to keep you here for nearly two months. Two months I have waited patiently until my master would tell me what to do with you. Two months I have kept you alive and resisted every urge to kill you. Two months I've lived with a werewolf in my house! And now they tell me that probably this has all been in vain! That you are nothing but a last resort! That I won't get awarded for capturing you, for capturing Potter! No, it will be Wormtail who will be rewarded, he of all people, can you imagine that?"

For the next twenty minutes, he hit and kicked Remus, totally out of his mind. Several times, Remus' head collided hard with the stone wall of the dungeons and blood from a wound on his temple began mixing with the blood of his nose on his face. He could not move his left arm anymore after Malfoy had tried to pull him to his feet, he had lost all feeling in it.

Remus lost consciousness towards the end of the beating, after a very hard kick against his broken ribs (he suspected that by now nearly all of them were broken) had sent a wave of pain through his body. He felt that something inside of him had been torn apart, felt that breathing became more and more difficult with every attempt he made. Sharp waves of pain shot through his body whenever he tried to breathe and an ugly rattling sound came from his throat every time he did try. He felt as if he consisted of nothing else than of pain.

The last thing he thought of before unconsciousness claimed him again was Sirius. 'I'm so sorry mate', he thought. But he had the strange feeling that maybe Sirius had not mourned for him in vain, he knew that if what Lucius had told him was right, he would not have very long to live. 'So sorry mate. It should all have been different.' And then came only blackness.

Lucius soon lost his fun in beating Remus up after he didn't respond to his beatings anymore and threw him onto the prank bed before leaving the dungeon, still fuming with anger.

If that werewolf really was not needed, then he would have to suffer badly.