Secret Keeper

Chapter Eight:

October 26, 1981

Remus Lupin watched apprehensively as Millicent Bagnold reappeared in front of him with a group of Aurors in tow. Most of them were unfamiliar to him, but he saw one or two familiar faces, including a heavily scarred wizard that he knew to be Mad-Eye Moody.

“Lupin,” Moody nodded in greeting, “I haven’t seen you around in awhile. How’ve you been?”

“Fine,” he said quickly, trying and failing to hide the impatience in his voice. “Listen, we have to-”

“Find Black, we know,” interrupted a short feisty-looking wizard. “Where are they holding him?”

“The abandoned manor north of Hogsmeade,” explained Bagnold. “We believe that he’s been there for about a day.”

“I see,” the wizard said. “In that case, I think we should leave immediately.”

“Yes,” Bagnold agreed, “and while you’re at it, try to bring in some Death Eaters, will you? I have a strong hunch that someone working here is passing information to You-Know-Who. There are spies everywhere. After all, we’ve already discovered that Peter Pettigrew is a Death Eater. He’s the one who brought Black to You-Know-Who.”

There were several audible gasps. “Pettigrew?” asked a slim blonde witch in disbelief. “That short, fat kid?”

Remus nodded dryly. “Yes, he’s in Dumbledore’s custody now.”

Several of the Aurors’ faces still looked shocked. Moody, however, said calmly, “We ought to be leaving now. No telling who’s working for You-Know-Who, he may already know that we’re coming. Let’s go.”

He turned on his heel, walking away from Remus. Several of the Aurors had followed him. They were almost to the door, when Remus blurted out, “Wait! May I come with you?”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Lupin.” A squat frizzy-haired witch with large spectacles looked at him appraisingly. “After all-”

“It doesn’t matter, Whitman.” Moody looked at Lupin carefully before saying, “If he wants to come, let him come. Goodness knows we could use some help here.”

The frizzy-haired witch looked as if she were about to protest to this, but before she could open her mouth, Bagnold cut in, saying, “Jill, he’s right, I think it may be a good idea if you let Remus accompany you. He is a close friend of Black’s, after all.”

The blonde witch that had spoken earlier nodded her agreement. “Come with us then, Mr. Lupin.” Remus followed the group of Aurors out of the Ministry.

“How are we getting there?” Remus asked casually.

“Apparation,” replied Moody tersely. “Quickest way.”

“I see.”

“Well, are we ready?” asked Jill Whitman, the frizzy-haired witch. The group gave a collective nod. Then, together, they Apparated.

Remus looked around him. He was standing on a grassy hill that overlooked a small Muggle village. He heard pop sounds all around him as the Aurors began to Apparate. Finally, when they were all accounted for, Moody spoke.

“The abandoned mansion is behind us,” he said, turning and pointing to a dilapidated structure about fifty feet away from them. “If Pettigrew’s information was correct,” he shot a glance at Remus, “then You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters should be here, along with Black.”

Several of the Aurors exchanged apprehensive glances. Remus could tell that they were not exactly thrilled by the prospect of having to face Voldemort. They’re all cowards, he thought impatiently, biting his lip. They were supposed to be Aurors, the fighters of the Dark forces, the leaders of the war against Voldemort, and yet, none of them (with the possible exception of Moody) had courage that equaled Sirius Black’s, who willingly put himself at risk of capture and torture in order to help a friend. This sucks, Remus thought bitterly, this really sucks.

Slowly, the group traipsed towards the old manor. It had not been inhabited for several years; indeed, no one seemed to want to go near it. A perfect hideout for Voldemort, Remus realized. As they began to near the decrepit mansion, Moody began to walk more and more cautiously, stealing furtive looks behind him as if he were afraid that there were spies everywhere, waiting to capture them in their tracks.

“Constant vigilance,” he whispered to the people behind him, “constant vigilance!”

Several people gulped nervously.

Remus was quite nervous as well, although for quite a different reason than the Aurors. He was not concerned for his own well-being; in his opinion, his life was so wretched that being killed might be something of an improvement, but he was fiercely loyal to his friends. He did not like to think that anyone close to him might be in danger, especially not someone as close to him as Sirius was. Sirius was one of his only true friends, one who had not ostracized him for being a werewolf. The thought of Sirius having to go through so much was deeply unpleasant.

“Lupin,” whispered Moody abruptly.

Remus turned to face him.

“What?”

“You take half the group and go to that side of the building. We’ll go around the other side. When I send up sparks from my wand, we’ll all storm into the manor. That way, at least we’ll have the element of surprise. Agreed?”

“Yes,” Remus whispered. It didn’t seem like that great of a plan, but he knew that nothing else he could come up with would work much better. It was hard to find an advantage when you were working against Voldemort.

Moody turned around and explained this to the other Aurors, who all looked pale and grim. They nodded resolutely, as if they expected this to be the last thing they ever did. Remus smiled inwardly.

Leading his group, he crept quietly to the entrance that Moody had mentioned to him. When he noticed wand sparks flying up from the opposite side of the mansion, he and the others quickly burst into the room brandishing their wands, breathless with anticipation, ready to hex everyone and everything in sight. Across the room, Remus saw that Mad-Eye Moody and the other Aurors had done the same thing.

The house was empty.

Remus stared around him, not believing what he saw. There was no one here. How could this be? Had Peter lied to them? This was indeed a possibility, but yet, something about the way Peter had divulged the information led Remus to believe that he had been speaking the truth. But if Peter hadn’t been lying, then where was Sirius? Where was Voldemort? Where were the Death Eaters? It didn’t make sense.

“There’s no one here,” Jill Whitman complained loudly.

Well, thanks for stating the obvious, Remus remarked to himself sarcastically, that really helps us clear things up.

Moody looked at Remus from across the room. “Lupin? I thought you said Pettigrew told you that Black was here...”

Remus was puzzled. “He – he did, Mad-Eye,” he said slowly. “I don’t think he was lying either... didn’t sound like it.”

A tall burly wizard stepped further inside the mansion and walked around, examining the contents of the room closely. A few pieces of worn out furniture adorned the spacious living room, which had paint peeling from the walls. The place certainly looked like it had seen better days. There was no sign of Sirius anywhere.

“There’s no one here,” Whitman complained again, “we’re just wasting our time! Pettigrew obviously lied to you, Lupin, and you fell for it!”

“Do you really think so?” Remus asked in a tone of false pleasantness. “Unfortunately, you were not present when he divulged the information, and are therefore unfit to make such judgments.”

Jill Whitman’s eyes flashed, and she looked as if she was about to send an insult flying in Remus’ direction, when a quiet wizard standing in a corner of the room spoke up.

“Black was here.”

Remus’ head jerked in the wizard’s direction.

“What? How do you know?” he asked, a note of urgency present in his voice.

“Blood,” the wizard said quietly, pointing to a spot on the floor. “There’s blood on the floor. Someone was tortured here.”

Moody had crossed the room and was standing by the wizard’s side, examining the spot on the carpet. Squatting down, he gingerly reached out and touched the dark red stain with the tip of a finger. Quickly, he withdrew it.

“He’s right,” Moody said breathlessly. “It is blood. It’s still wet. Black must have been here earlier.”

Remus shuddered. Merlin, he thought, looking at the deep red splotch on the carpet, Sirius must be really hurt. That’s a lot of blood.

“They must have taken him somewhere else,” Moody stated calmly. “I was right – they knew we were coming... no telling where Black is now...”

But where could Sirius be? Remus wondered. Where would they take him?

“Ennervate!”

Groggily, Sirius Black opened his eyes. His vision was slowly coming back into focus as the blurry shapes in front of him materialized and became solid objects. Where was he? What had happened? Suddenly, he remembered. He had been Stunned. He had been with Bellatrix, who was forcing him out of the room, when Malfoy came and Stunned Sirius.

He smirked in satisfaction. He still ached all over, but it was nice to know that Voldemort considered him enough of a threat that Malfoy had had to Stun a bound and injured man in order to keep him from escaping. Pathetic, the whole lot of them, Sirius remarked bitterly to himself. Then again, Bellatrix and her lot never did amount to much.

“Hello, Sirius Black,” said a high, cold voice. Sirius groaned inwardly. Great. Voldemort. Just the person he really wanted to see right now.

“I hope you’ve had time to think things over again,” Voldemort said smoothly. Death Eaters were standing on both sides of him, looking on as their master addressed Black, who was lying on the floor, unable to move. “Would you like to tell me where the Potters are, Mr. Black?”

“Never,” Sirius whispered. “I would never tell you.”

“Really?” Voldemort asked, taking a step towards Sirius. “How... sweet, Black. It’s so amusing to see how people like you think.”

“People like me?” Sirius snarled.

“Yes, precisely, people like you who believe in love,” Voldemort said contemptuously. “You are all fools, you know. People like you are so easy to manipulate.”

“And how is that?” Sirius spat, gritting his teeth.

“It’s so easy to use you, Black,” Voldemort explained with the air of one speaking to a very dim-witted child. “Do you think that the only reason you are here is because you are the Potters’ Secret-Keeper? Think again. There are other advantages to having James Potter’s best friend in my custody,” he said with relish.

Sirius looked at him stonily, his face expressionless.

“Potter, being the sentimental fool that he is, will undoubtedly come looking for you himself,” Voldemort said, chuckling softly. “He will expose himself and put his life in danger because he cares about you. He is just like you, you see? He has a certain fondness for heroics. He would gladly die to save your life.” Voldemort smiled cruelly. “Tell me Black, how does it feel knowing that your being alive will kill your best friend?”

“James isn’t that stupid,” Sirius whispered fiercely, hoping that what he said was true. “He knows not to come looking for me here.”

“Is that so, Black?” Voldemort asked, raising an eyebrow and looking amused. “Why, I was under the impression that one of your friends, a certain Remus Lupin, is already out looking for you. Of course, he’ll never find you,” Voldemort added with satisfaction. “I will make sure of that.”

Remus... Sirius couldn’t believe that he had ever suspected Remus of working for the Dark Side. After hearing Voldemort and the Death Eaters talk about him, the idea of Remus being a traitor seemed utterly ridiculous, even in the most paranoid part of Sirius’ mind. But if it wasn’t Remus, then who was it? Who was spying for Lord Voldemort?

“Well, Black, it certainly doesn’t look like the Cruciatus Curse will be able to loosen your stubborn tongue,” Voldemort drawled. “Let’s try a different approach, shall we? I want you to tell me that the Potters are at Godric’s Hollow.”

A different approach? Sirius was worried. What exactly did Voldemort have in mind? He found out soon enough.

“Answer me. Imperio!”

Sirius’ mind felt wonderfully blank, and the sensation was one of utter peace and bliss. Answer me. I want you to tell me that the Potters are at Godric’s Hollow.

No! No, he couldn’t betray James! He couldn’t betray Lily and Harry!

Answer me. Just do it.

No! NO!

Sirius struggled to fight the feeling of euphoria that was washing over his body, fighting to control him. Tell me that the Potters are at Godric’s Hollow.

I won’t.

Do it.

I won’t.

Do-

“I WON’T!” he screamed aloud. “I WON’T!”

Voldemort stared at him, hatred gleaming in those terrible red eyes. “You won’t?” he asked quietly. “I see, Black...”

Sirius shuddered. The wonderful feeling that had engulfed his body was gone, and in its absence the pain left behind by the many Cruciatus Curses used on him had returned. Again, he felt the aching in every bone in his body. Even his mind felt sore.

“Your skills at resisting the Imperius Curse are impressive, Black, impressive indeed,” Voldemort said softly.

“Why thank you!” Sirius said in a mocking tone of voice. “I’m so glad you noticed!” he added sarcastically.

“Not really so great when it comes to manners though, aren’t you?” hissed Voldemort quietly. “I see you are not a coward... apparently you are quite unlike your brother – stupid fool that he was-”

“For the last time, he was not my brother,” Sirius said coldly. “None of them were my family. My family is with the Potters.”

“Yes, well, we never liked you either, Black,” came a harsh female voice from behind Voldemort. It was Bellatrix. “You are nothing but a nasty blood traitor, a disgrace to your family name-”

“Oh yes, and you’re a wonderful contributor to your family name, dear cousin,” Sirius drawled. “Torture and murder – what wonderful ways to bring honor to the family! Killing Muggle-borns and half-bloods... what did they ever do to you?”

“They are not worthy of living,” Bellatrix hissed, “they are dirty, filthy-”

“Really? Because you know, your master,” Sirius put a mocking emphasis on this word, “isn’t exactly a pure-blood himself, isn’t that right?” he said, looking at Voldemort with hatred burning behind his eyes.

Bellatrix emitted a shriek of fury. Quickly, she pulled out her wand and brandished it at Sirius, muttering a curse.

He yelped in pain. A large gash had appeared on the side of his neck. Blood seeped out of the wound and on to the shirt he had borrowed from James. Wincing, he sat up a few inches, craning his neck to see the extent of the damage. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of the blood that was dripping down his neck and onto his chest.

“Now, now, Bellatrix,” said Voldemort, sounding quite amused, “don’t be too enthusiastic. We don’t want to kill Black. Yet.”

Her face still glowering, Bellatrix stepped backwards and shoved her wand back into her robes. She was still glaring angrily at Sirius, who stared back at her, pleased that he had managed to annoy his cousin to such an extent.

Sirius smirked inwardly. He knew he was being foolish for trying so hard to annoy Voldemort and his cousin when it would only bring him additional pain, but he was hurting so much anyways that any extra injuries did not really make a difference. So what was a little bit of blood anyways? The curse that Bellatrix had hit him with was definitely not lethal; it did not feel good to have blood seeping down his neck, but things were a lot better than they could have been. It was definitely worth seeing her angry expression, Sirius thought to himself. If he was going to die the way Voldemort said he would, he might as well have some fun before he went.

He did not realize that one of the Death Eaters had just left the room.