Good News, and Veilfic Snippet
Finally heard from the DMV:
We have been informed by the court that you have paid your fine, and no suspension is on your license.
YES!
Still working on the next chapter of Pro Bono Publico.
In the meantime, here's part of the story I'm writing for the Veil of Possibilities challenge. The premise is that--as it says on the site--'when Sirius fell through the veil, he didn't die, but entered an alternative reality, a parallel dimension of his own world. In order to get back to his own reality, he has to travel through the veil again and again, until he finds his own dimension from a myriad of possibilities.' Sort of "Harry Potter meets Quantum Leap."
In this scene, Traveller Sirius is in Alternate Dumbledore's office, talking to Alternate Dumbledore, Alternate Remus and Alternate Snape. It's unbeta'd, as I'm still writing the rest of the story.
***
"Have you ever heard of erotomania?"
Sirius glanced at Snape--this world's Snape, he reminded himself, but just as much of a greasy git as he is back home--and bared his teeth in what he hoped would pass for a smile. "Not off-hand. Sounds like a pleasant occupation, though. What is it, being mad about erotica? Or just crazy about love?"
"Erotomania is a mental disorder." Snape's tone was coldly disapproving, as if he didn't find the subject humorous in the least.
"Well," said Sirius, shrugging casually, "they do say that lovers are all a bit insane, or they wouldn't be in love."
"Mr. Black," Snape said in tones that made a glacier seem warm, "kindly put your vast ego aside for the moment, cease flaunting your puerile wit, and listen to me. If, that is, you wish to know anything about this world's Sirius Black. I would prefer that Professor Lupin not have to answer too many questions. He has had to deal with Sirius Black far too frequently as it is."
"Had to deal--?" Sirius turned sharply to Dumbledore. "What did he do?"
Dumbledore sighed, looking momentarily old and worn. "Quite a lot," he said softly. "Professor Snape can explain it, however."
Snape nodded an acknowledgement in the Headmaster's direction before resuming the conversation. "Sirius Black has been after Remus Lupin for the past eighteen years. It's earned him six life sentences in Azkaban, not to mention Lupin's undying hatred. So far, he's broken out of Azkaban three times and come close to killing Lupin at least once. Nothing stops him. I do not believe that anything ever will stop him, except--possibly--death. And even then I would not discount the possibility of his returning as a zombie to finish what he started."
Sirius felt dizzy. "He hates Remus that much?"
"Oh, no," said Snape, a tinge of bitterness tainting the words. "That's the most amusing part of all this. He doesn't hate Lupin. He loves him. He loves him more than anyone else in the world. And he won't let anyone stand in the way of true love."
"Ever since I was sixteen," Remus added softly, gazing with great concentration at a spot on Dumbledore's carpet. "Well, that was when things went bad. Before that, he was more of a nuisance. Anonymous notes protesting love. Gifts of Chocolate Frogs from a secret admirer."
"Not so secret," said Snape. "Everyone in Slytherin knew he was after you."
Remus exhaled slowly. "Not too surprising, considering that was his own House."
"Wait a second," protested Sirius, holding up a hand like a traffic warden. "I--he--was in Slytherin? Not Gryffindor?"
"A Black in Gryffindor?" Snape studied Sirius incredulously. "Though I will admit that your counterpart was a perfect Slytherin. His ambition meant everything to him. And he was more than willing to use any ends to achieve it. Unfortunately, his ambition is, was and always will be Remus Lupin, whom he regards as something of a demi-god."
"He believes that I initiated what he refers to as 'our affair.' " Remus laughed shakily. "He really believes it. I've gotten passionate notes from him talking about the first time that he knew I loved him, because my dress robes third year were red with gold trim. Gryffindor colours, anyone else would say, but not him. No, he went into meticulous detail about how red is the colour of passion, hearts and true love, and gold shines like the sun. And he knew as soon as he saw those robes that I thought of him as my heart and that he was as important in my world as the sun."
Sirius stared. "He just assumed that? But that's--"
"Crazy?" Remus' mouth twisted into an oddly bitter expression. "Yes, it is."
"Technically, he did not assume anything," said Snape gravely. "Assuming would imply that he had thought things through and jumped to an erroneous conclusion. Sirius Black does not need to assume anything; he knows that Lupin loves him. He knows this as surely as he knows that the sky is blue; it is unshakeable. That Lupin has not yet come around to admitting it means nothing; plenty of people, real and fictional, do not instantly admit their love to those who love them. And often there are obstacles in the way of that love. Once the obstacles are overcome, and the beloved is persuaded of the other's passion and fidelity, then all will be well and the two will live happily ever after." He smirked. "Sounds like a fairy tale, doesn't it?"
Sirius nodded.
"Good. Then imagine what it is like to be pursued by someone who sees you as his romantic ideal--someone whom you utterly detest, and yet who loves you no matter what happens. Imagine hundreds of letters, all professing mad, passionate affection, slipped under your door each day. Imagine dozens of owls delivering messages and gifts that you do not want. Imagine a person who sees your actions in the actions of everyone else in the world. Imagine someone who is certain that when some stranger bids him good morning, you are in some way greeting him and wishing him well. When the world is unkind, you are testing his love. When he fails a test, you told the teacher to fail him. When he loses his job, you wrote a cruel letter that forced his employer to fire him. You, and only you, are the author of his joy and his misery. Nothing else matters."
"And God help you," said Remus in a grey, dead voice, "if you should love other people. Because they, too, become things that don't matter."
Sirius felt his bones grow cold. "He's committed murder?"
"Six murders that we know of," Dumbledore replied quietly. "There may have been more. We aren't sure."
"The first people Black killed were his parents," Remus said, still speaking in that grey and chilling monotone. "No one really knows what happened, except for them and him...but I suspect that either his cousin Narcissa told her parents about his interest in me, or else he told them that he was gay and in love with the most wonderful person in the world. Who just happened to be a werewolf. I can just imagine how well his mother would have taken that."
"We know how well his parents took the news, whoever told it," retorted Snape. "That, at least, is a matter of public record, thanks to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The last spell his father's wand cast was Imperio. The last spell his mother cast was the Cruciatus Curse."
Sirius thought back to his own sixteenth summer. His parents had boasted of their support of Voldemort, and had held up his younger brother Regulus as a shining example of pride and political acumen in a pureblood family.
At first he had listened, growing more and more furious at the callous, vituperative lies he'd heard from his family his whole life. Then his mother had whirled on him and begun shrieking that he was a total disappointment, a failure, a violator of all the family held dear, a supporter of Mudbloods and halfbloods and nonhumans, and what decent daughter of a pureblood family would choose to wed that?
And he had screamed back that he wouldn't want a daughter of a pureblood family, he was in love a pureblood already--a pureblooded gay werewolf, and nothing, absolutely nothing she could do could keep them apart...
She'd kept him under Cruciatus for five hours.
The pain had stopped only when he passed out. When his mother had permitted him to pass out.
He knew to this day that she had not ended the curse to spare him. She had stopped because she didn't want the eldest son of the Blacks to end up insane or dead. Compliant as a result of the pain, yes. Crazy, no.
He had stumbled to his feet, barely able to see. For a moment--a brief moment--unholy rage had flared within him, and he had thought of killing his mother. While he was thinking about it, he had recalled James' invitation before school had ended: "If you ever need a place to stay, you're welcome at my house, any time."
And suddenly, escape--which he hadn't even thought of at first--was a wonderful possibility.
This world's Sirius hadn't run.
"Why?" Sirius asked aloud. "Why didn't he go to James? James was his brother, in everything but blood."
Remus regarded him with a probing expression for a few minutes. "He didn't know James," he said at last. "He didn't run with our crowd."
Snape snorted. "Be honest. He didn't have a crowd."
No James, Sirius thought. No Peter. No Remus, except in his imagination. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs didn't exist in this world.
Padfoot...
A swift and unwelcome thought invaded his mind. No. Not possible. It can't be.
Still, better to test the theory.
He glanced at Remus. "There were three boys you ran with, correct? And in their fifth year, they became Animagi, in order to keep you company on full moon nights."
Remus said nothing. But the sharp inhalation of breath told Sirius that he was on the right track.
"You were Moony," he continued relentlessly. "Peter Pettigrew was Wormtail. James was Prongs." He glanced at Remus. "Who was the fourth?"
Remus smiled slightly. "Quoth."
"Quoth? What kind of name is Quoth?"
"It was James' idea, actually." Remus still looked faintly amused.
Snape snorted. "That boy had the worst taste in puns." He intercepted an inquiring look from Sirius and scowled. "I'm a raven Animagus. Put the form and the name together."
Raven...Quoth...Quoth the Raven...
Sirius groaned.
"Yes," said Snape dryly. "Precisely."
"The other Sirius," Sirius said, twisting about to look at each of them in turn. "He's not an Animagus, too, is he?"
"If he is," Dumbledore replied, "he's become one in Azkaban."
Sirius nodded. He struggled to find a diplomatic way of asking the next question before realising that there was no way. "Er...you two," he said, gesturing toward Snape and Remus. "You're not...er...a couple, are you?"
Remus looked blank. "A couple of what?"
Snape stiffened. "Mr. Black," he said with considerable disgust, "are we, perchance, in your world, friends?"
Sirius thought over and rejected several sarcastic answers before opting for the simple truth. "Actually, being in the same room and not killing each other is something of an accomplishment."
"Oh, good," Snape murmured. "It would be a shame to ruin a perfect relationship such as ours with amity. Tell me, Mr. Black--given that we neither like nor trust each other either in your world or in mine, what in the name of all that is holy gives you the right to ask a question like that?"
The words emerged haltingly. "You seem to have taken my place in almost every other respect. You were a Marauder. You became an Animagus because of Remus. I just wondered."
Remus was staring at Sirius with dazed horror in his eyes. "We--in your world, I'm..."
"My lover. Yes."
Remus blanched, shuddered and was suddenly and comprehensively sick on the carpet.
"I'm sorry," he said a few moments later as he removed his wand from a pocket in his robes and muttered a quick, "Scourgify!" "It's just the idea of being locked into a relationship with him forever. I couldn't endure that." He shivered once more, this time violently.
"I'm not him," Sirius said patiently.
Remus' agreement was automatic, almost mechanical. "No. Of course you're not." He cleared his throat. "But, in answer to your question, no, Severus and I are not together. I have no lovers--male or female, human or nonhuman. I dare not. He would think that any lover of mine was keeping me from realising that my destiny lies with him." He studied the ceiling as if reading a message of vital import. "I will not be responsible for the death of anyone else who loves me."
The pain and guilt in Remus' eyes was almost too much for Sirius to bear. He turned away, loathing the other Sirius.
"Why was he admitted back at Hogwarts after the death of his parents?" he asked Dumbledore. "Somebody must have suspected something."
"Oh, many people had suspicions," said Dumbledore, sighing. "I was but one of a vast number. But there simply was no evidence. No one saw him enter or leave the house around the time of the murders. He had a new wand from Ollivander's--the old wand, which would have cast the Killing Curse, inexplicably vanished, and no trace was ever found. And he had an alibi for the time of the murders. One supported by ten or twelve older wizards." A raptor gaze met Sirius'. "You may know some of the names. Rodolphus Lestrange. Rastaban Lestrange. Warren MacNair. Lucius Malfoy. Narcissa Black."
"Death Eaters," Sirius breathed. "He blackmailed them. 'Don't tell about me, and I won't tell about you...' "
Dumbledore nodded. "I suspected something of the kind at the time. But the Ministry refused to believe it. He was a sixteen-year-old boy. How could those alibi-ing him fear him?"
"I'm sure he was convincing," Remus said wearily, as he continued to stare at the ceiling. "He's very good at being charming when he wants something."
"What happened after that?"
"The other Mr. Black," said Snape in a scathing tone, "decided that Remus was vanishing each month for--oh, well, various reasons. One time he believed Lupin was having a tryst. Another time Black insisted that he was attending an orgy. I think at one point he even accused Lupin of serving the Dark Lord."
"At one point, he accused me of being the Dark Lord." Remus laughed bitterly. "But no matter how ludicrous his claims were, he always found someone to believe them."
"And still no one realised that he was insane?" Sirius demanded, leaning sharply forward.
"He isn't," Remus replied. "Medically, yes, he's quite delusional. But he's not legally insane. He knows he's Sirius Black, not a-a cantaloupe or something. He knows that I'm Remus Lupin. And he even knows the difference between right and wrong...even though he usually chooses wrong."
"Not from his perspective," said Snape in an icy tone. "Everything he has done is moral in his eyes--because everything has been done with the goal of being united with his 'true love.' " His lip curled disdainfully as he spoke those last two words.
"Sixth year," Remus said, rubbing his chin. " He tried to get into the Shrieking Shack. He followed James and Peter on the full moon...and Severus followed Black."
Sirius' mouth went dry. "He tried to get into the Shrieking Shack," he repeated numbly.
"He did get in," Snape said. "His delusion that month was that James and Peter were trying to keep Remus all to themselves. And he pushed past them into the Shack."
"But not past you," said Remus.
A slight flush crept into the Potion Master's sallow cheeks. "Only because I wasn't thinking about what was in the Shack. I didn't know you'd transformed fully. I assumed it would take longer."
Sirius stared at Snape in utter disbelief. "You knew. How the hell did you know?"
Snape rolled his eyes expressively. "It was hardly difficult to discover. A month or two of research, no more. All I had to do was correlate Lupin's monthly illnesses with the lunar charts we were using for Astronomy Class. It did not take long to realise that he was always ill on the three days of the full moon. If he had been a girl, I'd have thought that the problem was of a rather different sort, but since anatomy made that impossible..."
"But it took James and Peter and me three YEARS to figure it out!"
Snape looked slightly smug. "I am hardly responsible for the mental deficiencies of juvenile Gryffindors, Mr. Black."
Sirius bristled, and was just opening his mouth to say something he hoped would be witty and savagely cutting when Remus glanced in his direction.
"You do know that Severus is just winding you up, don't you?"
"Of course," said Sirius hastily. "What else would he be doing?"
Snape snorted loudly, but made no other comment.
"Anyway," said Remus tiredly, as he looked in every direction but Sirius', "Severus was getting the worst of it--"
"I was getting stabbed by Black and clawed by you. That's why."
"Stabbed?"
"Yes, Mr. Black. Stabbed. It came as quite a surprise to me. Though not nearly the surprise it would have been to Lupin."
"It was a letter opener shaped like a dirk," said Remus quietly. "Buying knife-like objects is illegal in most places, but you can pick up letter openers shaped like daggers in almost every tourist trap in Scotland. And--this one was silver."
"Black saw me and decided that I was part of the conspiracy to keep him and Remus apart," continued Snape in an almost pedantic tone. "He rushed at me. I tried to Expelliarmus the letter opener. He, of course, summoned it right back."
Sirius envisioned the scene in the Shack that night. A crazed sixteen-year-old, armed with a dagger, or as close as made no never mind, ready to kill anyone who prevented him from finding his love. Snape, wounded, frightened and trying to dodge both lunatic and lycanthrope. Remus, newly transformed and half-insane from the presence of silver and the smell of fresh blood.
"You took a huge chance for someone who wasn't a friend," he said quietly to Snape.
Snape shrugged. "Not so huge. I thought I had another half hour to an hour of safety when I went after Black. I also thought that it would be far easier to subdue Black than it actually was. I was not anticipating a wizard's duel with a maniac, much less a battle to evade a full-grown werewolf."
"Peter and James stumbled into the Shack at that point," said Remus. "They grabbed Black, pulling him off-balance and down the Whomping Willow tunnel. I'm not sure what James did--transformed and butted Black into the tunnel wall, I think. I didn't see."
"Nor did I," Snape replied. "I had barely dodged past the wolf into the tunnel--and sealed the door to the Shack--when I heard someone shouting, 'Obliviate!' "
"Peter," said Remus wanly. "The boy had a real gift for Memory Charms."
"So--Black--didn't remember what happened that night," said Sirius slowly. "And after you tried to help Remus--despite the fact that he was a werewolf--Remus and his friends decided that you weren't such a greasy git of a snake after all."
"What an unbelievably gracious way you have of putting things. Your words and manners speak volumes. I can tell that you are truly one of the aristocrats of the wizarding world."
"Gentlemen," and from the emphasis Remus gave the word, Sirius could tell that he thought it wholly inappropriate, "this is not helping. And there is still more that he needs to know."
"To the best of my knowledge, Black never remembered what happened," Dumbledore said. "Remus and Severus were badly wounded that night, but, as you can see, both recovered. It could have been worse. Much, much worse."
Sirius nodded, trying not to picture sixteen-year-old Remus lying in Madam Pomfrey's Infirmary, hundreds of claw marks and bites scoring his all-but-bloodless body. That had been worse. So had Madam Pomfrey's answer to his frenzied demand for reassurance.
"How is he? Please! You've got to tell me how he is!"
"Breathing. Barely."
Involuntarily, he winced.
"Mr. Black?" inquired Dumbledore. Sirius could hear the polite but impersonal concern in the old wizard's voice. The impersonality hurt for a moment, despite the fact that Sirius didn't know how Dumbledore could be concerned about this world's Sirius Black, or anyone who even remotely resembled him.
"I'm fine," he said, more harshly than he had intended. "Go on. What happened next?"
"Your--" Remus checked himself in mid-sentence. "His brother died. He'd been hit with Cruciatus and the Killing Curse."
Sirius felt dizzy, as if all the blood were rushing away from his head. "Regulus?" His voice sounded half-choked, even in his own ears. "I--he--killed Regulus?"
"At first it was thought that Regulus Black had been slain by his fellow Death Eaters," said Snape. He surveyed Sirius for a minute or two to see how he took the news. "But then a journal was found. Regulus Black had feared his brother. With good reason."
"Black became convinced that his brother had persuaded their parents to evict him from the house at the age of sixteen," Dumbledore said, picking up the thread. "He told Regulus--who recorded the conversation in his journal--that if Remus refused to--what was the term?--'unite with him on the shores of destiny by the next full moon'--"
"I have no idea what that meant," Remus interrupted.
"--then he would be forced to eliminate the rival who was attempting to ruin his chances with Remus. The one who had stolen his home, his share of the family fortune, his position as favoured son..."
Sirius stared incredulously at Dumbledore. "But--but none of that makes any sense! I was never the favoured son, and I hated Twelve Grimmauld Place...and anyway, he wasn't evicted at the age of sixteen--you just told me that he killed his parents himself!"
"Mr. Black," Dumbledore said, his voice heavy with infinite patience, "you forget: Sirius Black is mentally ill. Do not expect logic."
***
We have been informed by the court that you have paid your fine, and no suspension is on your license.
YES!
Still working on the next chapter of Pro Bono Publico.
In the meantime, here's part of the story I'm writing for the Veil of Possibilities challenge. The premise is that--as it says on the site--'when Sirius fell through the veil, he didn't die, but entered an alternative reality, a parallel dimension of his own world. In order to get back to his own reality, he has to travel through the veil again and again, until he finds his own dimension from a myriad of possibilities.' Sort of "Harry Potter meets Quantum Leap."
In this scene, Traveller Sirius is in Alternate Dumbledore's office, talking to Alternate Dumbledore, Alternate Remus and Alternate Snape. It's unbeta'd, as I'm still writing the rest of the story.
***
"Have you ever heard of erotomania?"
Sirius glanced at Snape--this world's Snape, he reminded himself, but just as much of a greasy git as he is back home--and bared his teeth in what he hoped would pass for a smile. "Not off-hand. Sounds like a pleasant occupation, though. What is it, being mad about erotica? Or just crazy about love?"
"Erotomania is a mental disorder." Snape's tone was coldly disapproving, as if he didn't find the subject humorous in the least.
"Well," said Sirius, shrugging casually, "they do say that lovers are all a bit insane, or they wouldn't be in love."
"Mr. Black," Snape said in tones that made a glacier seem warm, "kindly put your vast ego aside for the moment, cease flaunting your puerile wit, and listen to me. If, that is, you wish to know anything about this world's Sirius Black. I would prefer that Professor Lupin not have to answer too many questions. He has had to deal with Sirius Black far too frequently as it is."
"Had to deal--?" Sirius turned sharply to Dumbledore. "What did he do?"
Dumbledore sighed, looking momentarily old and worn. "Quite a lot," he said softly. "Professor Snape can explain it, however."
Snape nodded an acknowledgement in the Headmaster's direction before resuming the conversation. "Sirius Black has been after Remus Lupin for the past eighteen years. It's earned him six life sentences in Azkaban, not to mention Lupin's undying hatred. So far, he's broken out of Azkaban three times and come close to killing Lupin at least once. Nothing stops him. I do not believe that anything ever will stop him, except--possibly--death. And even then I would not discount the possibility of his returning as a zombie to finish what he started."
Sirius felt dizzy. "He hates Remus that much?"
"Oh, no," said Snape, a tinge of bitterness tainting the words. "That's the most amusing part of all this. He doesn't hate Lupin. He loves him. He loves him more than anyone else in the world. And he won't let anyone stand in the way of true love."
"Ever since I was sixteen," Remus added softly, gazing with great concentration at a spot on Dumbledore's carpet. "Well, that was when things went bad. Before that, he was more of a nuisance. Anonymous notes protesting love. Gifts of Chocolate Frogs from a secret admirer."
"Not so secret," said Snape. "Everyone in Slytherin knew he was after you."
Remus exhaled slowly. "Not too surprising, considering that was his own House."
"Wait a second," protested Sirius, holding up a hand like a traffic warden. "I--he--was in Slytherin? Not Gryffindor?"
"A Black in Gryffindor?" Snape studied Sirius incredulously. "Though I will admit that your counterpart was a perfect Slytherin. His ambition meant everything to him. And he was more than willing to use any ends to achieve it. Unfortunately, his ambition is, was and always will be Remus Lupin, whom he regards as something of a demi-god."
"He believes that I initiated what he refers to as 'our affair.' " Remus laughed shakily. "He really believes it. I've gotten passionate notes from him talking about the first time that he knew I loved him, because my dress robes third year were red with gold trim. Gryffindor colours, anyone else would say, but not him. No, he went into meticulous detail about how red is the colour of passion, hearts and true love, and gold shines like the sun. And he knew as soon as he saw those robes that I thought of him as my heart and that he was as important in my world as the sun."
Sirius stared. "He just assumed that? But that's--"
"Crazy?" Remus' mouth twisted into an oddly bitter expression. "Yes, it is."
"Technically, he did not assume anything," said Snape gravely. "Assuming would imply that he had thought things through and jumped to an erroneous conclusion. Sirius Black does not need to assume anything; he knows that Lupin loves him. He knows this as surely as he knows that the sky is blue; it is unshakeable. That Lupin has not yet come around to admitting it means nothing; plenty of people, real and fictional, do not instantly admit their love to those who love them. And often there are obstacles in the way of that love. Once the obstacles are overcome, and the beloved is persuaded of the other's passion and fidelity, then all will be well and the two will live happily ever after." He smirked. "Sounds like a fairy tale, doesn't it?"
Sirius nodded.
"Good. Then imagine what it is like to be pursued by someone who sees you as his romantic ideal--someone whom you utterly detest, and yet who loves you no matter what happens. Imagine hundreds of letters, all professing mad, passionate affection, slipped under your door each day. Imagine dozens of owls delivering messages and gifts that you do not want. Imagine a person who sees your actions in the actions of everyone else in the world. Imagine someone who is certain that when some stranger bids him good morning, you are in some way greeting him and wishing him well. When the world is unkind, you are testing his love. When he fails a test, you told the teacher to fail him. When he loses his job, you wrote a cruel letter that forced his employer to fire him. You, and only you, are the author of his joy and his misery. Nothing else matters."
"And God help you," said Remus in a grey, dead voice, "if you should love other people. Because they, too, become things that don't matter."
Sirius felt his bones grow cold. "He's committed murder?"
"Six murders that we know of," Dumbledore replied quietly. "There may have been more. We aren't sure."
"The first people Black killed were his parents," Remus said, still speaking in that grey and chilling monotone. "No one really knows what happened, except for them and him...but I suspect that either his cousin Narcissa told her parents about his interest in me, or else he told them that he was gay and in love with the most wonderful person in the world. Who just happened to be a werewolf. I can just imagine how well his mother would have taken that."
"We know how well his parents took the news, whoever told it," retorted Snape. "That, at least, is a matter of public record, thanks to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The last spell his father's wand cast was Imperio. The last spell his mother cast was the Cruciatus Curse."
Sirius thought back to his own sixteenth summer. His parents had boasted of their support of Voldemort, and had held up his younger brother Regulus as a shining example of pride and political acumen in a pureblood family.
At first he had listened, growing more and more furious at the callous, vituperative lies he'd heard from his family his whole life. Then his mother had whirled on him and begun shrieking that he was a total disappointment, a failure, a violator of all the family held dear, a supporter of Mudbloods and halfbloods and nonhumans, and what decent daughter of a pureblood family would choose to wed that?
And he had screamed back that he wouldn't want a daughter of a pureblood family, he was in love a pureblood already--a pureblooded gay werewolf, and nothing, absolutely nothing she could do could keep them apart...
She'd kept him under Cruciatus for five hours.
The pain had stopped only when he passed out. When his mother had permitted him to pass out.
He knew to this day that she had not ended the curse to spare him. She had stopped because she didn't want the eldest son of the Blacks to end up insane or dead. Compliant as a result of the pain, yes. Crazy, no.
He had stumbled to his feet, barely able to see. For a moment--a brief moment--unholy rage had flared within him, and he had thought of killing his mother. While he was thinking about it, he had recalled James' invitation before school had ended: "If you ever need a place to stay, you're welcome at my house, any time."
And suddenly, escape--which he hadn't even thought of at first--was a wonderful possibility.
This world's Sirius hadn't run.
"Why?" Sirius asked aloud. "Why didn't he go to James? James was his brother, in everything but blood."
Remus regarded him with a probing expression for a few minutes. "He didn't know James," he said at last. "He didn't run with our crowd."
Snape snorted. "Be honest. He didn't have a crowd."
No James, Sirius thought. No Peter. No Remus, except in his imagination. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs didn't exist in this world.
Padfoot...
A swift and unwelcome thought invaded his mind. No. Not possible. It can't be.
Still, better to test the theory.
He glanced at Remus. "There were three boys you ran with, correct? And in their fifth year, they became Animagi, in order to keep you company on full moon nights."
Remus said nothing. But the sharp inhalation of breath told Sirius that he was on the right track.
"You were Moony," he continued relentlessly. "Peter Pettigrew was Wormtail. James was Prongs." He glanced at Remus. "Who was the fourth?"
Remus smiled slightly. "Quoth."
"Quoth? What kind of name is Quoth?"
"It was James' idea, actually." Remus still looked faintly amused.
Snape snorted. "That boy had the worst taste in puns." He intercepted an inquiring look from Sirius and scowled. "I'm a raven Animagus. Put the form and the name together."
Raven...Quoth...Quoth the Raven...
Sirius groaned.
"Yes," said Snape dryly. "Precisely."
"The other Sirius," Sirius said, twisting about to look at each of them in turn. "He's not an Animagus, too, is he?"
"If he is," Dumbledore replied, "he's become one in Azkaban."
Sirius nodded. He struggled to find a diplomatic way of asking the next question before realising that there was no way. "Er...you two," he said, gesturing toward Snape and Remus. "You're not...er...a couple, are you?"
Remus looked blank. "A couple of what?"
Snape stiffened. "Mr. Black," he said with considerable disgust, "are we, perchance, in your world, friends?"
Sirius thought over and rejected several sarcastic answers before opting for the simple truth. "Actually, being in the same room and not killing each other is something of an accomplishment."
"Oh, good," Snape murmured. "It would be a shame to ruin a perfect relationship such as ours with amity. Tell me, Mr. Black--given that we neither like nor trust each other either in your world or in mine, what in the name of all that is holy gives you the right to ask a question like that?"
The words emerged haltingly. "You seem to have taken my place in almost every other respect. You were a Marauder. You became an Animagus because of Remus. I just wondered."
Remus was staring at Sirius with dazed horror in his eyes. "We--in your world, I'm..."
"My lover. Yes."
Remus blanched, shuddered and was suddenly and comprehensively sick on the carpet.
"I'm sorry," he said a few moments later as he removed his wand from a pocket in his robes and muttered a quick, "Scourgify!" "It's just the idea of being locked into a relationship with him forever. I couldn't endure that." He shivered once more, this time violently.
"I'm not him," Sirius said patiently.
Remus' agreement was automatic, almost mechanical. "No. Of course you're not." He cleared his throat. "But, in answer to your question, no, Severus and I are not together. I have no lovers--male or female, human or nonhuman. I dare not. He would think that any lover of mine was keeping me from realising that my destiny lies with him." He studied the ceiling as if reading a message of vital import. "I will not be responsible for the death of anyone else who loves me."
The pain and guilt in Remus' eyes was almost too much for Sirius to bear. He turned away, loathing the other Sirius.
"Why was he admitted back at Hogwarts after the death of his parents?" he asked Dumbledore. "Somebody must have suspected something."
"Oh, many people had suspicions," said Dumbledore, sighing. "I was but one of a vast number. But there simply was no evidence. No one saw him enter or leave the house around the time of the murders. He had a new wand from Ollivander's--the old wand, which would have cast the Killing Curse, inexplicably vanished, and no trace was ever found. And he had an alibi for the time of the murders. One supported by ten or twelve older wizards." A raptor gaze met Sirius'. "You may know some of the names. Rodolphus Lestrange. Rastaban Lestrange. Warren MacNair. Lucius Malfoy. Narcissa Black."
"Death Eaters," Sirius breathed. "He blackmailed them. 'Don't tell about me, and I won't tell about you...' "
Dumbledore nodded. "I suspected something of the kind at the time. But the Ministry refused to believe it. He was a sixteen-year-old boy. How could those alibi-ing him fear him?"
"I'm sure he was convincing," Remus said wearily, as he continued to stare at the ceiling. "He's very good at being charming when he wants something."
"What happened after that?"
"The other Mr. Black," said Snape in a scathing tone, "decided that Remus was vanishing each month for--oh, well, various reasons. One time he believed Lupin was having a tryst. Another time Black insisted that he was attending an orgy. I think at one point he even accused Lupin of serving the Dark Lord."
"At one point, he accused me of being the Dark Lord." Remus laughed bitterly. "But no matter how ludicrous his claims were, he always found someone to believe them."
"And still no one realised that he was insane?" Sirius demanded, leaning sharply forward.
"He isn't," Remus replied. "Medically, yes, he's quite delusional. But he's not legally insane. He knows he's Sirius Black, not a-a cantaloupe or something. He knows that I'm Remus Lupin. And he even knows the difference between right and wrong...even though he usually chooses wrong."
"Not from his perspective," said Snape in an icy tone. "Everything he has done is moral in his eyes--because everything has been done with the goal of being united with his 'true love.' " His lip curled disdainfully as he spoke those last two words.
"Sixth year," Remus said, rubbing his chin. " He tried to get into the Shrieking Shack. He followed James and Peter on the full moon...and Severus followed Black."
Sirius' mouth went dry. "He tried to get into the Shrieking Shack," he repeated numbly.
"He did get in," Snape said. "His delusion that month was that James and Peter were trying to keep Remus all to themselves. And he pushed past them into the Shack."
"But not past you," said Remus.
A slight flush crept into the Potion Master's sallow cheeks. "Only because I wasn't thinking about what was in the Shack. I didn't know you'd transformed fully. I assumed it would take longer."
Sirius stared at Snape in utter disbelief. "You knew. How the hell did you know?"
Snape rolled his eyes expressively. "It was hardly difficult to discover. A month or two of research, no more. All I had to do was correlate Lupin's monthly illnesses with the lunar charts we were using for Astronomy Class. It did not take long to realise that he was always ill on the three days of the full moon. If he had been a girl, I'd have thought that the problem was of a rather different sort, but since anatomy made that impossible..."
"But it took James and Peter and me three YEARS to figure it out!"
Snape looked slightly smug. "I am hardly responsible for the mental deficiencies of juvenile Gryffindors, Mr. Black."
Sirius bristled, and was just opening his mouth to say something he hoped would be witty and savagely cutting when Remus glanced in his direction.
"You do know that Severus is just winding you up, don't you?"
"Of course," said Sirius hastily. "What else would he be doing?"
Snape snorted loudly, but made no other comment.
"Anyway," said Remus tiredly, as he looked in every direction but Sirius', "Severus was getting the worst of it--"
"I was getting stabbed by Black and clawed by you. That's why."
"Stabbed?"
"Yes, Mr. Black. Stabbed. It came as quite a surprise to me. Though not nearly the surprise it would have been to Lupin."
"It was a letter opener shaped like a dirk," said Remus quietly. "Buying knife-like objects is illegal in most places, but you can pick up letter openers shaped like daggers in almost every tourist trap in Scotland. And--this one was silver."
"Black saw me and decided that I was part of the conspiracy to keep him and Remus apart," continued Snape in an almost pedantic tone. "He rushed at me. I tried to Expelliarmus the letter opener. He, of course, summoned it right back."
Sirius envisioned the scene in the Shack that night. A crazed sixteen-year-old, armed with a dagger, or as close as made no never mind, ready to kill anyone who prevented him from finding his love. Snape, wounded, frightened and trying to dodge both lunatic and lycanthrope. Remus, newly transformed and half-insane from the presence of silver and the smell of fresh blood.
"You took a huge chance for someone who wasn't a friend," he said quietly to Snape.
Snape shrugged. "Not so huge. I thought I had another half hour to an hour of safety when I went after Black. I also thought that it would be far easier to subdue Black than it actually was. I was not anticipating a wizard's duel with a maniac, much less a battle to evade a full-grown werewolf."
"Peter and James stumbled into the Shack at that point," said Remus. "They grabbed Black, pulling him off-balance and down the Whomping Willow tunnel. I'm not sure what James did--transformed and butted Black into the tunnel wall, I think. I didn't see."
"Nor did I," Snape replied. "I had barely dodged past the wolf into the tunnel--and sealed the door to the Shack--when I heard someone shouting, 'Obliviate!' "
"Peter," said Remus wanly. "The boy had a real gift for Memory Charms."
"So--Black--didn't remember what happened that night," said Sirius slowly. "And after you tried to help Remus--despite the fact that he was a werewolf--Remus and his friends decided that you weren't such a greasy git of a snake after all."
"What an unbelievably gracious way you have of putting things. Your words and manners speak volumes. I can tell that you are truly one of the aristocrats of the wizarding world."
"Gentlemen," and from the emphasis Remus gave the word, Sirius could tell that he thought it wholly inappropriate, "this is not helping. And there is still more that he needs to know."
"To the best of my knowledge, Black never remembered what happened," Dumbledore said. "Remus and Severus were badly wounded that night, but, as you can see, both recovered. It could have been worse. Much, much worse."
Sirius nodded, trying not to picture sixteen-year-old Remus lying in Madam Pomfrey's Infirmary, hundreds of claw marks and bites scoring his all-but-bloodless body. That had been worse. So had Madam Pomfrey's answer to his frenzied demand for reassurance.
"How is he? Please! You've got to tell me how he is!"
"Breathing. Barely."
Involuntarily, he winced.
"Mr. Black?" inquired Dumbledore. Sirius could hear the polite but impersonal concern in the old wizard's voice. The impersonality hurt for a moment, despite the fact that Sirius didn't know how Dumbledore could be concerned about this world's Sirius Black, or anyone who even remotely resembled him.
"I'm fine," he said, more harshly than he had intended. "Go on. What happened next?"
"Your--" Remus checked himself in mid-sentence. "His brother died. He'd been hit with Cruciatus and the Killing Curse."
Sirius felt dizzy, as if all the blood were rushing away from his head. "Regulus?" His voice sounded half-choked, even in his own ears. "I--he--killed Regulus?"
"At first it was thought that Regulus Black had been slain by his fellow Death Eaters," said Snape. He surveyed Sirius for a minute or two to see how he took the news. "But then a journal was found. Regulus Black had feared his brother. With good reason."
"Black became convinced that his brother had persuaded their parents to evict him from the house at the age of sixteen," Dumbledore said, picking up the thread. "He told Regulus--who recorded the conversation in his journal--that if Remus refused to--what was the term?--'unite with him on the shores of destiny by the next full moon'--"
"I have no idea what that meant," Remus interrupted.
"--then he would be forced to eliminate the rival who was attempting to ruin his chances with Remus. The one who had stolen his home, his share of the family fortune, his position as favoured son..."
Sirius stared incredulously at Dumbledore. "But--but none of that makes any sense! I was never the favoured son, and I hated Twelve Grimmauld Place...and anyway, he wasn't evicted at the age of sixteen--you just told me that he killed his parents himself!"
"Mr. Black," Dumbledore said, his voice heavy with infinite patience, "you forget: Sirius Black is mentally ill. Do not expect logic."
***