Veilfic, Part 2
Here's some more veilfic. Currently working on the scene following this, in which Erotomaniac Sirius appears onstage for the first time.
***
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--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."
"He was locked up this time," Remus said quietly. "I had to testify. Not one of my favourite memories. It was bad enough having to be in the same courtroom with him staring at me, but the barristers were worse. Merlin's Counsel or defense, it didn't matter--neither of them believed that there was no relationship. That there had never been a relationship. That it was all in his mind. They just looked at two men, one of whom claimed to be in love with the second, and decided it was some twisted homosexual love affair gone horribly wrong. And that somehow, some way, I must have led Black on. Because it wasn't logical otherwise, was it? 'Right,' I kept telling them, 'it's not logical. Now you're starting to get it.' But they never did."
"There had to be some sort of record," Sirius half-whispered as he leaned forward. "You couldn't have just been putting up with this for years."
"There's not a lot I can do," Remus said, flinching away from Sirius. "All I can do is file for restraining orders...and even permanent restraining orders only last six months. Not that it's easy to get a permanent one; sending me gifts and love letters are not considered threatening by the law or by Aurors.
"Anyway, restraining orders don't work. Black has no incentive whatsoever to avoid me, and he has plenty of incentive to violate the order. If he violates the order, he gets to see me. If he's caught, he either gets an arrest citation for committing a misdemeanor--quite a minor fine--or he gets brought up on charges of harassment. Which means that I have to go to court and testify. Which means he gets to see me again. And, if he doesn't have a barrister, he gets to represent himself--meaning, among other things, that he gets to cross-examine me. I can't win."
"Oh. My. God." Sirius took several shuddering breaths before continuing. "And no one has done anything?"
Remus grimaced bitterly. "The Ministry of Magic is hardly concerned with the rights of werewolves. What privileges I possess are limited; it was a battle to be permitted to testify against him, since werewolves are, legally, beasts, and are considered innately evil, lying monsters." He snorted. "More than one person at the Ministry has told me that given my situation, I ought to be grateful for the obviously deep affection of a pureblood wizard, instead of trying to get him to leave me...the...hell...alone." The last word emerged in an agonised groan.
"He wasn't imprisoned, unfortunately," added Snape. "Only locked up in an asylum for close to a year. He was, I understand, a model inmate--well-controlled, lucid of speech, clean, able to function much as allegedly sane people do. He attended therapy groups, admitting to addictions to various magical potions that could have deluded his mind. He mourned most publicly for his brother, expressing deep remorse for what he called his "part" in Regulus' death."
"And he talked his way out," Sirius concluded, gritting his teeth. "Bastard!"
Remus glanced from Snape to Dumbledore helplessly. "I...can't talk about this," he said in a choked tone, and buried his head in his hands.
Without thinking, Sirius reached out, ready to place a comforting hand on Remus' shoulder. "Remus...I..."
A sallow, talon-like hand, which was stained and spotted with chemicals, gripped his forearm in an iron vise. Beetle-black eyes glared into Sirius' dark ones.
"Don't. You. Touch. Him," Snape hissed. "He has been through enough."
"Jealous?" taunted Sirius. Damn the Potions Master--Remus was right there, his shoulders shaking, obviously in misery. He needed comfort, the kind only Padfoot could provide. It wasn't fair...
Abruptly, he became aware that Snape was staring at him as if he were a new and particularly lethal bacterium.
"Jealous?" Snape's voice was blistering in its loathing and contempt. "Why would I want to be anything like you?"
Sirius sneered. "Oh, let me count the ways."
"Would you like to know what you're really like in this world, Mr. Black?" Snape inquired politely, as if the question were of little import. "I don't think you quite understand just how detestable the other you is."
Sirius thought of Azkaban, and shivered. "I've faced the worst. Go on. Tell me."
"Telling you doesn't seem to be making enough of an impression." Snape rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I could show you, however."
Remus, his eyes suspiciously bright, glanced up at Snape. His voice trembled. "No, Severus. Please."
A swift, implacable retort. "He has to know."
"These are my memories you're talking about." Remus fired a pleading look in Snape's direction. "I know I shared them with you and Dumbledore, but--I don't want...him...knowing."
"How many times do I have to say that I'm not your world's Sirius Black?" Sirius said with irritation.
"You are. That's just it. You are." Remus avoided Sirius' eyes. "You look like him. You sound like him. For all I know, you're exactly like him."
Sirius shook his head slowly. "I'd never harm Remus."
"Funny," Remus retorted. "He says the exact same thing."
"Would you take the word of a Legilimens?" inquired Dumbledore. "This is not the same man."
Remus simply shook his head slowly and rhythmically. "Knowing isn't the same as feeling."
"Thank you for proving my point," said Snape. "Think of it this way--if you let him see the very worst, he'll understand what he...and you...are facing. Possibly allowing him to leave this world a bit faster than he would otherwise."
Sirius regarded Snape with deep suspicion. "Leave this world how?"
Dumbledore glanced sharply at Snape over his glasses. "I cannot say that I approve of this, Professor."
"Noted, Headmaster." Snape swiveled back toward Remus. "Well?"
"If it will get rid of either of them any faster, I'm all for it." Remus struggled to get to his feet. "I--I can't stay and watch this, though," he muttered, as he strove to push himself to his feet by leaning against Dumbledore's desk.
Snape gave an exasperated sigh. "You won't see a thing if you don't glance in the Pensieve, or touch him while he's...observing. And if you don't want to hear any of his reactions--well, I daresay I could manage a Silencing Charm. But stay. There's something he really needs to see after he hears this part...and," he continued imperturbably, turning back to Sirius, "kindly remove your mind from the gutter, Mr. Black."
"Did I say anything?" Sirius demanded of the air in an aggrieved voice.
Remus studied Snape's stern features for a moment, closed his eyes and nodded.
Snape stood up and swiftly exited Dumbledore's office. He returned perhaps fifteen minutes later, carrying a shallow stone basin edged with ancient signs and symbols regarding time and memory. Placing it on Dumbledore's desk, he removed his wand from a pocket in his robes, sketching a complex rune with it. "In Auribus Soli Sirii Nigrantis!"
In the ears of Sirius Black alone, Sirius translated mentally.
Snape gazed at Sirius, his black eyes unreadable. "There are a few things you need to know before you peer into Lupin's Pensieve. Your other self was released in September. No one bothered to warn Remus; Black's record had been sealed upon his discharge from St. Mungo's. And the Healers considered him safe."
"Obviously, this is some new definition of 'safe' that I've never heard before," said Sirius bitterly. "What did he do as soon as he got out? Make a beeline for Remus' place?"
"No. Lupin had moved several times since Black's incarceration."
Sirius grinned. "So he didn't know where to find Remus. Good."
Snape raised a dubious eyebrow. "He didn't know enough to head for the Werewolf Registry, no. He did, however, remember the names of Remus' friends. I was at Hogwarts; Black made no move in my direction. Either he bore some dim memory of our battle in the Shrieking Shack, or he feared attacking anyone at Hogwarts because of Dumbledore. James, who was married by now and had a child, was in hiding--"
"--in a place called Godric's Hollow," said Sirius, as if the words were being pulled from him by sharp hooks. "They were living there as Muggles. And Voldemort killed them."
"You seem to know a great deal about it," Snape said slowly, as he surveyed Sirius with a probing look.
"I've thought of little else for years." Unaware that he was doing so, Sirius shot Snape a pleading glance. "Just tell me one thing. Did they ever catch Peter?"
"Peter?" The shock in Snape's voice was almost palpable.
"Peter," Sirius repeated too quickly, as he fought down an unformed yet dreadful certainty. "The one who betrayed James and Lily to Voldemort. The traitor."
"I suppose that Peter might be called the traitor." Snape's voice was flat and emotionless, but his black eyes blazed with scorching hatred. "By one who had no appreciation for truth or accuracy, at least."
Sirius clenched his fists, his nails digging painfully into his palms. No. Please, no.
"Peter...was their Secret-Keeper," he forced himself to say. "In my world, anyway."
"As he was here."
"Until the other Sirius Black killed him. Right?"
"Nothing so clean as that." Snape spoke in a slow, chill tone, as if every word was weighted with lead. "Sirius Black saw, in Peter, the only hope of learning where James was...and, through James, where Remus was. Black was most...inventive...in his methods of persuasion. Peter must have fought him--if he had broken more quickly, he would have died faster, and saved himself considerable pain. As it was, he survived Black's ministrations for almost a week. He may have gone mad before the end. If he did, I hope it was a madness beyond fear or pain."
Sirius tried to picture little Peter Pettigrew trying valiantly to resist torture. He couldn't do it.
"The rat never had that kind of courage," he said. "He was weak. And cowardly. He'd never sacrifice himself for someone else."
Snape barely glanced at him. "Just as your counterpart would never become dangerously obsessed with another, no doubt."
"Peter did talk, though," Sirius said, focusing on what he saw as the real issue. "Regardless of how brave he was"--he couldn't help sneering at the word 'brave'--"he still talked."
"Oh, yes," Snape agreed. "He talked."
He paused for a moment. "As for what happened next...well, I cannot tell you. I was not there. But Remus was. Use the Pensieve if you wish to discover what occurred that night. That is," Snape added contemptuously, "if you dare."
***
***
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--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."
"He was locked up this time," Remus said quietly. "I had to testify. Not one of my favourite memories. It was bad enough having to be in the same courtroom with him staring at me, but the barristers were worse. Merlin's Counsel or defense, it didn't matter--neither of them believed that there was no relationship. That there had never been a relationship. That it was all in his mind. They just looked at two men, one of whom claimed to be in love with the second, and decided it was some twisted homosexual love affair gone horribly wrong. And that somehow, some way, I must have led Black on. Because it wasn't logical otherwise, was it? 'Right,' I kept telling them, 'it's not logical. Now you're starting to get it.' But they never did."
"There had to be some sort of record," Sirius half-whispered as he leaned forward. "You couldn't have just been putting up with this for years."
"There's not a lot I can do," Remus said, flinching away from Sirius. "All I can do is file for restraining orders...and even permanent restraining orders only last six months. Not that it's easy to get a permanent one; sending me gifts and love letters are not considered threatening by the law or by Aurors.
"Anyway, restraining orders don't work. Black has no incentive whatsoever to avoid me, and he has plenty of incentive to violate the order. If he violates the order, he gets to see me. If he's caught, he either gets an arrest citation for committing a misdemeanor--quite a minor fine--or he gets brought up on charges of harassment. Which means that I have to go to court and testify. Which means he gets to see me again. And, if he doesn't have a barrister, he gets to represent himself--meaning, among other things, that he gets to cross-examine me. I can't win."
"Oh. My. God." Sirius took several shuddering breaths before continuing. "And no one has done anything?"
Remus grimaced bitterly. "The Ministry of Magic is hardly concerned with the rights of werewolves. What privileges I possess are limited; it was a battle to be permitted to testify against him, since werewolves are, legally, beasts, and are considered innately evil, lying monsters." He snorted. "More than one person at the Ministry has told me that given my situation, I ought to be grateful for the obviously deep affection of a pureblood wizard, instead of trying to get him to leave me...the...hell...alone." The last word emerged in an agonised groan.
"He wasn't imprisoned, unfortunately," added Snape. "Only locked up in an asylum for close to a year. He was, I understand, a model inmate--well-controlled, lucid of speech, clean, able to function much as allegedly sane people do. He attended therapy groups, admitting to addictions to various magical potions that could have deluded his mind. He mourned most publicly for his brother, expressing deep remorse for what he called his "part" in Regulus' death."
"And he talked his way out," Sirius concluded, gritting his teeth. "Bastard!"
Remus glanced from Snape to Dumbledore helplessly. "I...can't talk about this," he said in a choked tone, and buried his head in his hands.
Without thinking, Sirius reached out, ready to place a comforting hand on Remus' shoulder. "Remus...I..."
A sallow, talon-like hand, which was stained and spotted with chemicals, gripped his forearm in an iron vise. Beetle-black eyes glared into Sirius' dark ones.
"Don't. You. Touch. Him," Snape hissed. "He has been through enough."
"Jealous?" taunted Sirius. Damn the Potions Master--Remus was right there, his shoulders shaking, obviously in misery. He needed comfort, the kind only Padfoot could provide. It wasn't fair...
Abruptly, he became aware that Snape was staring at him as if he were a new and particularly lethal bacterium.
"Jealous?" Snape's voice was blistering in its loathing and contempt. "Why would I want to be anything like you?"
Sirius sneered. "Oh, let me count the ways."
"Would you like to know what you're really like in this world, Mr. Black?" Snape inquired politely, as if the question were of little import. "I don't think you quite understand just how detestable the other you is."
Sirius thought of Azkaban, and shivered. "I've faced the worst. Go on. Tell me."
"Telling you doesn't seem to be making enough of an impression." Snape rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I could show you, however."
Remus, his eyes suspiciously bright, glanced up at Snape. His voice trembled. "No, Severus. Please."
A swift, implacable retort. "He has to know."
"These are my memories you're talking about." Remus fired a pleading look in Snape's direction. "I know I shared them with you and Dumbledore, but--I don't want...him...knowing."
"How many times do I have to say that I'm not your world's Sirius Black?" Sirius said with irritation.
"You are. That's just it. You are." Remus avoided Sirius' eyes. "You look like him. You sound like him. For all I know, you're exactly like him."
Sirius shook his head slowly. "I'd never harm Remus."
"Funny," Remus retorted. "He says the exact same thing."
"Would you take the word of a Legilimens?" inquired Dumbledore. "This is not the same man."
Remus simply shook his head slowly and rhythmically. "Knowing isn't the same as feeling."
"Thank you for proving my point," said Snape. "Think of it this way--if you let him see the very worst, he'll understand what he...and you...are facing. Possibly allowing him to leave this world a bit faster than he would otherwise."
Sirius regarded Snape with deep suspicion. "Leave this world how?"
Dumbledore glanced sharply at Snape over his glasses. "I cannot say that I approve of this, Professor."
"Noted, Headmaster." Snape swiveled back toward Remus. "Well?"
"If it will get rid of either of them any faster, I'm all for it." Remus struggled to get to his feet. "I--I can't stay and watch this, though," he muttered, as he strove to push himself to his feet by leaning against Dumbledore's desk.
Snape gave an exasperated sigh. "You won't see a thing if you don't glance in the Pensieve, or touch him while he's...observing. And if you don't want to hear any of his reactions--well, I daresay I could manage a Silencing Charm. But stay. There's something he really needs to see after he hears this part...and," he continued imperturbably, turning back to Sirius, "kindly remove your mind from the gutter, Mr. Black."
"Did I say anything?" Sirius demanded of the air in an aggrieved voice.
Remus studied Snape's stern features for a moment, closed his eyes and nodded.
Snape stood up and swiftly exited Dumbledore's office. He returned perhaps fifteen minutes later, carrying a shallow stone basin edged with ancient signs and symbols regarding time and memory. Placing it on Dumbledore's desk, he removed his wand from a pocket in his robes, sketching a complex rune with it. "In Auribus Soli Sirii Nigrantis!"
In the ears of Sirius Black alone, Sirius translated mentally.
Snape gazed at Sirius, his black eyes unreadable. "There are a few things you need to know before you peer into Lupin's Pensieve. Your other self was released in September. No one bothered to warn Remus; Black's record had been sealed upon his discharge from St. Mungo's. And the Healers considered him safe."
"Obviously, this is some new definition of 'safe' that I've never heard before," said Sirius bitterly. "What did he do as soon as he got out? Make a beeline for Remus' place?"
"No. Lupin had moved several times since Black's incarceration."
Sirius grinned. "So he didn't know where to find Remus. Good."
Snape raised a dubious eyebrow. "He didn't know enough to head for the Werewolf Registry, no. He did, however, remember the names of Remus' friends. I was at Hogwarts; Black made no move in my direction. Either he bore some dim memory of our battle in the Shrieking Shack, or he feared attacking anyone at Hogwarts because of Dumbledore. James, who was married by now and had a child, was in hiding--"
"--in a place called Godric's Hollow," said Sirius, as if the words were being pulled from him by sharp hooks. "They were living there as Muggles. And Voldemort killed them."
"You seem to know a great deal about it," Snape said slowly, as he surveyed Sirius with a probing look.
"I've thought of little else for years." Unaware that he was doing so, Sirius shot Snape a pleading glance. "Just tell me one thing. Did they ever catch Peter?"
"Peter?" The shock in Snape's voice was almost palpable.
"Peter," Sirius repeated too quickly, as he fought down an unformed yet dreadful certainty. "The one who betrayed James and Lily to Voldemort. The traitor."
"I suppose that Peter might be called the traitor." Snape's voice was flat and emotionless, but his black eyes blazed with scorching hatred. "By one who had no appreciation for truth or accuracy, at least."
Sirius clenched his fists, his nails digging painfully into his palms. No. Please, no.
"Peter...was their Secret-Keeper," he forced himself to say. "In my world, anyway."
"As he was here."
"Until the other Sirius Black killed him. Right?"
"Nothing so clean as that." Snape spoke in a slow, chill tone, as if every word was weighted with lead. "Sirius Black saw, in Peter, the only hope of learning where James was...and, through James, where Remus was. Black was most...inventive...in his methods of persuasion. Peter must have fought him--if he had broken more quickly, he would have died faster, and saved himself considerable pain. As it was, he survived Black's ministrations for almost a week. He may have gone mad before the end. If he did, I hope it was a madness beyond fear or pain."
Sirius tried to picture little Peter Pettigrew trying valiantly to resist torture. He couldn't do it.
"The rat never had that kind of courage," he said. "He was weak. And cowardly. He'd never sacrifice himself for someone else."
Snape barely glanced at him. "Just as your counterpart would never become dangerously obsessed with another, no doubt."
"Peter did talk, though," Sirius said, focusing on what he saw as the real issue. "Regardless of how brave he was"--he couldn't help sneering at the word 'brave'--"he still talked."
"Oh, yes," Snape agreed. "He talked."
He paused for a moment. "As for what happened next...well, I cannot tell you. I was not there. But Remus was. Use the Pensieve if you wish to discover what occurred that night. That is," Snape added contemptuously, "if you dare."
***