Blood Traitor

Chapter One

December, 1983

Azkaban. Dark, narrow cells filled with filth and grime and what once were people. The chilling wind, not blocked by the walls, for the Dementors do not feel cold. A feeling of despair so heavy it is in the air itself. One man shivering on the icy floor, murmuring in his sleep. Lines on his face, his hair matted, his clothing filthy, but still youth about him. "Remus," his whispering barely escaping his lips, "James, Remus, where are you? I'm cold..."

***

July, 1976

A dark-haired, extremely handsome boy stood at the window of an elegant and ancient wizarding house in London, poised with his expensive broomstick in one hand and a crammed leather suitcase in the other as though he were trying to decide where to go. If anyone had been watching from the lawn- which of course they weren't, as the Blacks would never allow any common person to stand on their lawn for no reason- they would have wondered what thoughts kept flicking different emotions across his face, and why they were all so angry.

In fact, most of the Blacks would also have wondered why Sirius was so angry, as an absolutely lovely dinner party was going on downstairs, at which he had been congratulated several times about his performance on the O.W.L.s, and which was now filled with a fascinating conversation about the ideals of a new group that Regulus had been quite enthusiastic about. And it was worthy of enthusiasm, most of the Blacks would have thought, because proper respect for wizarding blood had been going through an awful decline for the past few years. It was high time the true order was reestablished.

They would have been shocked to find that Sirius did not agree. There would have been far more reaction than the mere polite raising of an eyebrow if he had responded as he really thought at dinner, that not only was one of the best witches he knew Muggle-born and one of his dearest friends a werewolf, but that Regulus and his friends were a load of blithering idiots and that the entire Black family was arrogant beyond belief. There were quite a few things he longed to say that he would never have dared to admit.

He had sat through the meal in silence, forcing himself not to speak as his family cheerfully said terrible things about anyone whose blood was less than entirely wizarding. Their opinions tended heavily to the prejudiced and bloodthirsty. At first it had been no more difficult than any day in this house; he had gotten used to keeping his political views quiet and not responding to words like "Mudblood". He was accustomed to meals where he had to keep his hands under the table so that no-one would see that they were clenched into fists. Before, he had always managed to save up his reactions for later, alone in his room. Tonight, however, a particularly touchy subject had come up: part-humans.

"Disgusting," had been his mother's opinion, and everyone around the table had heartily agreed. "Worse even than Mudbloods, I'd say, at least those think, albeit not too well. I've heard a centaur can't understand a word of English, and they're supposed to be reasonably intelligent. Why they would even be protected under the law- and as for werewolves-"

"Someone told me there's a werewolf at Hogwarts," Bellatrix had interrupted with a look of horrible glee on her face. Narcissa had squealed. If Andromeda had been there, she would have frowned and glanced sympathetically at Sirius, but with her new Muggle-born husband, it was impossible for her to be present at a Black family dinner party. Sirius missed his only sympathetic cousin dreadfully.

"Ridiculous, darling, that's impossible," Mrs Black had dismissed Bella's gossip. "They're no more than animals, and they'd be sure to savage the students. They're violent even in human form, you know. I don't see why they're not all exterminated." Narcissa had giggled and muttered something quite rude and unladylike under her breath, and the guest of honour for the evening, Mr Lucius Malfoy, had promptly replied with his plans to reform the Ministry and start a large (and in Sirius' opinion brutal) campaign against half-breeds. Lucius was also a relative, fairly distant but still family, and therefore worthy of respect.

At this point Sirius had excused himself and gone to stand in the bathroom until the feeling that he would be ill passed. Then, as the feeling of sickness left him and that of anger returned, he had stormed into his room, thrown everything he needed into his suitcase, grabbed his Cleansweep, and stood at his window, shaking with rage. If he had ever told his parents the real reason why they had never met his friends, they would probably be as horrified as he was now.

Bella had been right; there was a werewolf at Hogwarts. He was also one of Sirius' favourite people in the world. Everything Sirius' family had raised him to believe had been instantly dismissed from his mind as soon as he discovered that Remus Lupin was a werewolf. Remus was far more intelligent, kind, and funny than anyone in the Black family, and if James was a closer friend, it was only because Remus had a tendency to go to bed at a reasonable hour.

Yet what would probably disturb the Blacks even more than knowing that Sirius had befriended a werewolf would be to learn that, fully without intending to, Sirius had fallen in love with a werewolf. Their feelings would only be exacerbated by learning that the werewolf in question was male. On the other hand, Sirius reflected, Remus himself would probably be disturbed by this information, which he planned never to reveal to him. Nor would James be pleased to know that he really was as attractive as he believed himself to be, not with this information coming from Sirius rather than Lily Evans.

One thing was obvious. It had instantly become clear this evening that Sirius could no longer live in the Black house. The only question remaining was that of where he would go. Certainly not Peter's house; he had no interest in sitting around impressing the boy for the rest of the summer. Remus' house also presented problems, as Sirius would not be able to turn into a dog in front of the other Lupins when Remus transformed. James' would be the best place to go, but- he cursed himself when he remembered this- he'd had a bit of a row with James, and he hadn't bothered to make it up...

***

June, 1976

James was staring irritably into the fire of the Gryffindor common room, but no one seemed to have noticed. Remus, the only one who was bothering to study for their final O.W.L. tomorrow, was reading his Transfiguration textbook as though an invisible barrier had formed between his armchair and the rest of the world. Sirius was standing next to James with several packs of Exploding Snap cards he had nicked from some first-years, juggling furiously. Every time he thought one was about to explode, he would hastily chuck it at someone else, but his judgment was very poor; as often as not, the bystander would be left holding an ordinary deck of cards, while the rest blew up in Sirius' face. Peter watched with terrified fascination.

"So I'm just a massive git, am I?" James finally muttered, only barely loud enough for the other three to hear. Remus looked up from his book, and Peter managed to tear his eyes away from Sirius' juggling, but Sirius was still fixated on the Exploding Snap cards, not wanting to hurt himself.

"What? Course not," he answered absentmindedly, catching a pack just as it was about to fall on the head of an unwary girl sitting nearby, who had closed her eyes and was reciting her notes over and over again, not noticing the explosions rocking the common room right behind her.

Peter shook his head fervently, but Remus hesitated a moment, closing his book before he answered. James glared at him petulantly, waiting for a response. "You're not a massive git-" Remus began-

"Thank you," James interrupted, apparently thinking he was done.

"-but you act like one sometimes," he finished. Peter's jaw dropped open in amazement. Sirius looked at Remus instead of the cards, then jumped as they all blew up on his feet. Several people cheered, thinking this was part of the show, but Sirius ignored them and sat on the side of Remus' chair.

"Go on, then, Moony," he said, balancing the one remaining deck of cards on his friend's blond head. "Tell us about James being a git." James shot a look at Sirius that was trying very hard not to be a scowl.

"I said he wasn't a git," Remus replied evenly, taking the cards off of his head and slipping them into Sirius' pocket. Sirius tried not to jump at being touched so casually. "He just- both of you- you show off too much. It'd be okay if you didn't do it by hexing people. I'd hate to be Snape."

"Well, obviously," Sirius said, grinning. "He must sleep in a vat of slime to get that greasy."

"That too. He is a long-nosed little creep, but I meant that you think he's a dummy to practice curses on. Forget about Snape, what about Andrew Macmillan? Remember you turned him into a tomato just to prove you could? A house-elf picked him up and was about to take him back to the kitchen, he'd've been served for breakfast the next day if your spell hadn't suddenly reversed."

"He made a very amusing tomato," Sirius replied stubbornly. Unlike James, he wanted to defend himself. He hated having people think badly about him, especially James or Remus. James never did, of course, but Remus had an extraordinary power of making him feel guilty.

"I know he did, I saw it. I just wouldn't've been amused if he showed up at breakfast on my plate instead of at the table. Imagine biting into your tomato and hearing it say "ouch"...anyway, it's not just him, it's loads of people. I'm not saying it wasn't funny most of the time!" he said hurriedly, as Sirius started to interrupt. "You just started being mean about some of them, and then the rest of them sort of stopped being funny because no one ever knew which kind they were. Right, I'm done now, say whatever you want."

"I don't hex Snivellus because it's funny, I do it because he's a right bastard who's going to kill us all if he isn't taught a lesson," James pointed out very quietly. However, he did not protest anything else Remus had said.

"Well, maybe he wouldn't've been a right bastard if you hadn't taught him a lesson in the first place," said Remus. James didn't say anything. He ruffled his hand through his hair, but then stopped halfway through.

"Now, the hair thing, that's annoying, that is," Sirius joked, trying to lighten up the mood. It didn't work at all. James sprang out of his chair in a huff, his already bad temper pushed over the edge.

"Look, I might've been a bit stupid, but I didn't ask you to tell me every dumb thing I've ever done in my life, so shut up," he shouted at Sirius, storming off up the staircase to the boys' dormitories. Sirius stared after him incredulously.

"I was joking!" he yelled to James' back, but James didn't stop. "Fine, it's not annoying, it's dead sexy, what the hell's wrong with you anyway?" There was no answer. "What's wrong with him?" he repeated to Remus and Peter.

"Well, either he's gone mad from having to see Snape's pants, or Evans got to him today," Remus said. Peter was still sitting there in shock, unable to believe that his idols could argue.

"He'd better not expect me to make it up, he started the row," Sirius muttered mutinously, ignoring Remus' answer. He began pulling Exploding Snap cards from the deck and flicking them into the fire, only stopping when a booming explosion threw him off the arm of the chair.

***

July, 1976

Sirius landed his broomstick in front of the Potters' house, hoping desperately that Mr and Mrs Potter would be happy to see him even if their son wasn't. Their house was fairly respectable, though nowhere near as old as the Black house, but it was also comfortable-looking. A few fruit trees dotted the yard, which was lined with herbs. The main difference between this lawn and a lawn a Black would have was that, while this one was perfectly free of gnomes, a Black lawn would have never needed a degnoming in the first place.

Precious few places could have been further apart in his feelings than this house and 12 Grimmauld Place. They were also quite far apart physically, and Sirius was exhausted from his nighttime flight across England. His arms and legs were numb from the effort and the cold. He had begun to regret not finishing dinner last night. The sun had already risen, and he wondered whether James would be at breakfast yet.

As if in response to his thought, the door of the house swung open and out stepped James Potter, a skinny teenager with tussled black hair. He had a broomstick slung over his shoulder and was gazing up into the sky, assessing the flying conditions. It seemed he hadn't seen the boy on his lawn. Sirius was reluctant to attract his attention, considering that they had parted on bad terms, but after a minute James looked down, saw Sirius, and burst into an enormous grin.

"Padfoot! You must've been flying all night, what're you doing here?" He had thrown down his broom and rushed over to Sirius as though he were going to hug him, but had punched his arm instead. His roguishly attractive grin was impossible not to answer with a companion smile, even though Sirius' was slightly weak.

"Selling tickets to the International Toad Racing Tournament, what d'you think?" Sirius shot back in friendly sarcasm, but then instantly began telling James exactly what his family had said, and felt his actions entirely justified by the look on his best friend's face. James felt exactly as indignant as he did.

Sirius told him almost everything, from exactly what he would have liked to yell at his relatives during dinner to how he had nearly lost his luggage several times as he had tried to balance everything on his broomstick. He did not tell him that he had reacted even more severely than he would have because of how he felt about Remus- which, as a matter of fact, was fairly close to how he felt about James- but it wasn't important that he couldn't tell him this, because it was so wonderful to be able to say what he wanted at all. James listened attentively, nodding in support when it was needed and making violent gestures whenever anything particularly awful occurred in the story.

"C'mon, then, have breakfast," James said finally, pulling Sirius towards the house. Sirius could not even express his gratitude at this offer. He followed happily, but the moment he took a step he realised exactly how tired he was, and felt that it would be much nicer not to have to stand up anymore...

***

October, 1988

The noise of approaching footsteps pulled him out of sleep and back into the world of cold and pain.

"This is the prisoner Sirius Black, is it?" said a voice that sounded as though it were normally quite cool and calm, but had been put off slightly by the presence of Dementors. It didn't expect an answer, which was lucky for it, because nobody got answers in Azkaban. None of the monstrous guards ever spoke, and most of the prisoners were too far gone in their madness.

Sirius couldn't see the person the voice belonged to, since the sudden torchlight was blinding him, but he imagined a tall and middle-aged wizard looking at him with disgust. He hoped, whimsically, that the wizard was thinking, Merlin, he may be a bundle of rags, but if Azkaban ever held a beauty contest he'd win it. This was unlikely, because no one with anything better to think of would come up with the idea of Azkaban holding a beauty contest. Sirius had an incredible amount of time, and had thought of things like this.

"I, er, regret to inform you that your mother has died," the wizard continued, not meaning it at all. He was clearly bored with this routine visit, and eager to get away from the creature Sirius could hear and feel breathing beyond him in the dark. "I believe she has been ill for a long time, so it was not unexpected. My, ahem, condolences."

"Glad she's dead," Sirius managed to croak. It was all he could do to get these three words through his parched mouth; he had not had water all day. The wizard, despite his own lack of sorrow for Mrs Black's death, became even more aggravated at this statement.

"Filth," he hissed, his voice echoing off the walls of the cell. "You're just like her- don't you deny it- both of you, despicable criminals. She ought to have been thrown in her with you. You, still pretending you're innocent, you traitor, when you're just what your mother was. It's amazing you weren't given the Kiss."

Somehow, Sirius worked up enough saliva to spit at the man's feet. He was used to the sentiment, but still hated it as much as ever. He heard a noise of disgust, and then the wizard turned to go, taking the light with him as his footsteps echoed down the halls. The ragged prisoner tried to stay angry instead of collapsing, but it was too much effort. His head sank to his knees once more.

"Remus, tell me I'm not," he whispered. "Tell me I'm not like her, James. Tell me, please, tell me..."