Disclaimer: I'm obviously not Jo Rowling, blah blah blah.
Warning: This chapter is a major angst fest, but I hope you'll like it. Pleeaase review. I'll update faster if people review.
Remus Lupin thought his head would explode with the pain. Blood was seeping through his pants from a gash in his calf. His knuckles were bruised and his lip was split. The darkness seemed to be suffocating him. Where was he? It looked like he was in a cell...how did he get here?
"Remus, how good to see you're finally awake." An unfamiliar voice said.
Remus looked up. Somewhere to his right there was a man standing behind the bars of the cell. The man had cold eyes, brown hair and a wicked smile on his face. He looked around the same age as Remus but Remus couldn't recall seeing him before. But something about the man's smile told Remus the man was no friend of his.
"Who are you?" Remus asked.
"I'm Larson Wormwood, the man who kidnapped you and brought you here, also a faithful servant of the Dark Lord." The man said. "Pleasure to meet you."
"You're a Death Eater." Remus said, wincing at the pain in his leg.
"Oui, I am." Wormwood said proudly. "If you're wondering why you're here, its because the Dark Lord wants you here, and I won't go into further details than that. Don't even bother trying to leave this cell, because you can't get out. Its also impervious to magic, so don't bother trying to curse the cell door off its hinges. And naturally, you can't Apparate here."
"Voldemort wants me here?" Remus gasped in shock. "Voldemort is dead."
"Au contraire, my filthy halfbreed friend. He's quite alive and well now, thanks to an ancient blood ritual." Wormwood smiled. "And how brave of you, saying the Dark Lord's name. Unfortunately, bravery can only get you so far in life. Look what happened to you when you showed bravery last night! You got yourself all beaten up. Yes, you put up quite a brave fight when Avery and I were bringing you here. But in the end, we did more damage to you than you did to us."
"Voldemort is back." Remus whispered to himself.
"Yes, isn't it grand?" Wormwood grinned.
"But people can't just come back to life." Remus argued desperately. "People don't come back from the dead."
"Oh, if only you knew." Wormwood cackled before turning away from Remus. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have another guest to greet..."
"NO! COME BACK!" Remus tried to stand but his injured leg collapsed beneath him. "LET ME OUT OF HERE!"
He shuffled forward on his knees, grabbed hold of the bars, and fit his head through them. He looked into the corridor outside his cell, staring after Wormwood as he walked away. Through the greenish gloom, he could make out the bars of another cell at the end of the hall. The room behind the bars was lost in darkness so Remus couldn't see whoever was inside. Wormwood stopped in front of that cell and started talking to whoever was in there. Remus could only catch a few words.
"Au contraire, mon frere..." Remus heard him say. Then he heard Wormwood say, "James..."
James? Remus' James? James Potter? Was Wormwood talking about James Potter? James was a common name, so maybe not, but still. Remus strained his ears, trying to hear more.
"Six years...all according to plan..." Wormwood was saying. Remus couldn't hear what the person in the other cell was saying, he could only hear Wormwood's responses occasionally. "A coma...frankly, you're an enemy...c'est ridicule!...the Dark Lord needs me...your family? Murdered your only son...reflect on that..."
Wormwood turned away from the cell at the end of the hall and started making his way back toward Remus' cell. Remus backed away from the bars and slouched down on the floor, pretending he hadn't been trying to listen to the conversation.
"Well, as I said before: don't try to escape, because it won't work. Just have fun counting the stones in the wall here, and someone will be down with your dinner later tonight. We have to keep you alive, unfortunately, so that means we also must feed you." Wormwood said. "Goodbye for now!"
Wormwood walked away from Remus' cell. A few moments later, a door slammed somewhere down the corridor, letting Remus know Wormwood had left. Everything was completely silent except for the pounding of Remus' heart in his ears.
Now, I have to think of an escape plan, Remus thought. There must be some way out of here...
But before Remus could start thinking of an escape plan, a loud scream came from the end of the hall, making Remus nearly jump out of his skin.
The screaming didn't stop. The minutes dragged by. It seemed like the screams intensified with every passing second. Remus had only heard screams like that a few times before. It sounded like the man in the cell at the end of the hall was under the Cruciatus Curse with the way he was screaming, but Remus knew better. The man was not under the Cruciatus Curse. The Cruciatus Curse causes you intense physical pain. The man in the cell at the end of the hall was suffering from emotional pain, not physical. Remus could hear the emotion in his screams. Those were screams of anger and sorrow and grief. Screams of a man who'd lost everything. It cut Remus like a knife because he heard someone screaming like that before: himself.
Yes, Remus had been that man in the other cell before. He himself had screamed that way, the day after Lily and James were killed, the day Sirius killed Peter and a street full of muggles, the day Sirius went to Azkaban, leaving Harry an orphan who had to live with relatives his parents had hated. The day Remus' life crumbled apart leaving him with nothing but memories of a different life, a life that was so much better. And it was the happy memories that were hardest for Remus to deal with: the memories of James and Sirius laughing on their way back from detention, memories of all the Marauders laying in the grass by the lake, memories of Lily and Harry, James and Harry, Sirius and Harry, and how could Sirius do what he did? How could he hold Harry in his arms, knowing he was going to betray everyone to Voldemort? How could Sirius look James in the eye and smile like he wasn't already planning on selling him out to Voldemort? How? How? HOW?
Remus forgot all thoughts of an escape plan. He lay on his back on the floor, his heart caving in from the weight of painful memories, listening to the screams from the cell at the end of the hall. The man's screams sounded how Remus felt inside: angry, broken, and alone.