Chapter Text
As the Lupa neared the Black’s Port, they took down the Lycan flag and replaced it with a white hammock that rippled in the wind.
The crew was gathered on deck, weapons in hand. The night was black, no stars, no moon. The wind was rough and men clutched at their hats. A storm was brewing. Inky black waves crashed against the hull and the ship lurched from side to side. Thunder crackled in the distance, charging the humid air.
Remus had ordered Bill to stay in the navigation cabin. If he desperately needed someone, go to Sticks. Whenever Sticks laid eyes on Bill, he called the boy Remus. Nobody corrected him.
Now, above deck, Remus stood with Marlene and Dorcas by the helm. Dorcas wasn’t coming with them, so she’d stay at the wheel.
“You really don’t wanna come?” Marlene asked her.
“Absolutely not,” Dorcas said. “Greyback’s under the illusion this barter will go well. My presence is guaranteed to cause an uproar.”
“Suppose I’d be mad too, if I lost my best captain.”
“Best?" Dorcas scoffed. "Hardly. And that’s not why they care, they’re just mad anyone defected in the first place. I’m a stain on their reputation. Besides, I want nothing to do with this.”
Remus, on the other hand, didn’t have a choice. Greyback was forcing him to come.
He’d slipped on a pair of fingerless gloves, his long brown coat and tricorn hat. He angled the wide brim low to shadow his eyes. He held the metal mask in one hand. In the other, he held a small chest. He couldn’t bare to look at it.
Greyback marched over. “Lupin, where’s the stone?”
Remus handed the chest over. Greyback took it and walked off, not bothering to look inside. How satisfying it would be to bury a knife in the back of his skull.
Marlene batted her eyelashes at Dorcas. “Do I get a kiss for luck?”
“You need luck, McKinnon?” Dorcas deadpanned.
“You never know… what if I die?” Marlene spoke in jest, but the prospect troubled Dorcas, so much so that - to Remus’ surprise - she granted Marlene a swift peck on the cheek. Even Marlene was shocked, but she hid it with an easy grin. “Oh come on. Am I not good enough for the lips?”
“Come back in one piece and I might reconsider.” Dorcas turned to Remus, “The same goes for you, Lupin.”
“Oh yeah?” He tried to ease the tension out of his voice. “Do I get a kiss?”
“I’d rather not, but I don’t want you to die all the same.” Dorcas slid one of the many rings off her finger. “How about you borrow this instead? A lucky ring. Genuine ruby stone, and the band’s twenty carat gold. Lose it and I’ll kill you myself.”
Remus’ mouth parted. “You’re giving this to me?”
“Temporarily loaning, yes. Take it, Lupin. Now you’ve no choice but to come back alive.”
Marlene laughed and said, “You fret too much, Meadowes.” But she had never encountered Death Eaters before and didn’t quite grasp the gravity of the situation. The entire crew was more tense and uneasy than Remus had ever known them before a potential fight.
He accepted the ring, but rather than wear it over his gloves, he slipped it into the pocket of his coat for safe-keeping.
The port loomed before them, ships docked between the piers, lights twinkling in the windows of large waterfront buildings. Joe dropped the anchor.
Remus nodded his goodbye to Dorcas, then followed Marlene to the edge of the ship. Men leapt overboard into the boats below. They’d be a struggle to row to shore in these rough conditions.
As Remus secured his mask round his face, Marlene remarked, “You look like your Wanted poster wearing that, Lupin. No wonder people say what they do.”
“Mask on, McKinnon,” Greyback barked.
Remus kept his head down. Somewhere in the distance, a siren began to blare.
They made it past the docks before the Port Black townsfolk realised something was amiss.
Being owned by the Black family, the town was swarmed with Death Eaters. The Lycans were walking into a den of snakes, but if anything, they knew stealth. It was the reason they pillaged coasts so efficiently; by the time a fight broke out, they only needed to get back to their rowboats and flee. But this wasn’t a raid, nor did they want a fight to come of it.
As soon as Remus and the crew reached shore, they dispersed into the shadows of the streets. Every building was grand and gothic, crisp white fronts with black wooden beams. There was nothing ancient nor historic about the place, only the facade of it. It was as if the entire town had been stripped of authenticity, and standing in its place was a veneer of boasting wealth. Even the cobbled streets were not real cobble, instead concrete slabs shaped into fake, flat stones.
Remus chose to walk along the rooftops. He climbed up the side of a house, scaling a vine-wound trellis. From there he darted across the rooftops, stepping from beam to beam.
He could see everything from up here. The sea stretched to his right, an endless black expanse that blended into the night. Lightning split the sky, and the brief flash of light illuminated the Lupa which lurked on the horizon. Then it faded into darkness, like the glimpse of a ghost. In the distance, a lighthouse blared the monotonous siren that rang in Remus’ ears. Its beams of light scoured the sea, but the Lupa strayed just out of sight.
They knew they had intruders but couldn’t find where. Other Lycans had chosen to walk along the rooftops a few streets over. Remus avoided peering down at the sharp drop beside him; one small misstep could have him splattered on the fake stones below.
The Black Manor loomed at the very end of the street. Each of the Lycans were heading towards it in their own way. Marlene decided to stroll through the back gardens, hopping over fences and slipping down alleyways. A few had walked along the docks until they reached the courtyard of the Manor, which stuck out over a rocky cliff-face. They’d climb up the side of the cliff to reach it.
Greyback was the only one who didn’t hide. He ventured through the streets in plain sight of anyone who happened to glance out their window. He wore no mask. He was their face, their voice, their Captain. The word soured in Remus’ mind.
Soon enough, the townsfolk flooded out of their houses and hounded Greyback. They brandished pointy, gold-hilted swords but Greyback showed no fear. Even as he was encircled by armed men, Greyback flashed them a grin and spread his arms out wide.
“A warm welcome! I’d expect nothing less! Cygnus Black’s invitation to parlay with him this fine evening was nothing short of an honour.”
Someone yelled, “You disgrace the Blacks, you filthy liar! They’d have nothing to do with you and your mutts!”
Which was true. Cygnus Black had not invited them to anything. But now Greyback had planted the thought in their heads, doubt washed through the angered crowd. Nobody challenged Greyback. They kept a wide berth around the man as he strolled down the street, unfazed by the weapons pointing his way. Wary eyes scanned the street, searching anxiously for the rest of the so-called mutts. From above in the shadows, Remus couldn’t help but smile.
Greyback said, “You’ll be kissing our feet once you hear what we’ve brought for you. Your precious Master Black wouldn’t be happy if you chased us off before we had the chance to… negotiate.”
The crowd murmured among themselves, conflicted. These people were loyal to whichever family owned their harbour, and that family would be loyal to Tom Riddle. They were afraid to defy them, because in turn they’d be defying a tyrant. What if Cygnus Black really had agreed to this deal?
Remus reached the edge of the last rooftop and crouched down to scan the surroundings. Below, Greyback strode up to the ornate iron gates of the Black Manor courtyard. It was sealed with thick chains and a large padlock. The crowd gathered behind him, weapons raised yet no one attacked.
Greyback unhooked the two sabres strapped to his back. He swung them down on the chains with a reverberating clang and the chains clattered to the floor. Greyback pushed the gate open with a slow, teasing creak. As he stepped into the courtyard, he slotted his sabres back in place and turned to face his wide-eyed audience.
The Manor's courtyard was surrounded by a high stone wall. The grounds were entirely concrete; no grass, no flowers nor foliage. A grey marble fountain in the centre spewed water from the mouth of a snake statue, poised to strike. Other statues were dotted around the place, each with a pair of cold, unseeing eyes.
By the gates, Greyback bowed and tipped his hat with an exaggerated flourish. Remus took that as his cue. He dropped from the roof edge and landed on the courtyard’s stone wall.
Further down the wall, Marlene had pulled herself up and mirrored Remus’ crouched position. Over the black mask that hid her face, she winked at him.
Other Lycans appeared along the wall-top. Some also dropped from roofs while others, like Joe, clambered up the cliffside that the courtyard jutted out over. Remus spotted Joe crouched beside a gargoyle, equally as immobile.
David (the man Marlene had duelled) appeared on the roof of the Black Manor itself. David slid down the tiles to the lip of the roof and dropped to a balcony. He held the doors shut with a metal pole through the handles, then hopped up onto the balcony rails. He perched there like a watchful crow.
They were all still and silent, shrouded in the darkness of night, no distinguishing gargoyle from man. Lycans had entirely surrounded the courtyard like a pack of wolves around prey.
As Greyback sauntered towards the central fountain, the front doors of the Manor swung open. A man in his late fifties wearing a smart black suit and monocle barged outside. It was Cygnus Black, and he looked furious.
“Greyback!” he bellowed. “Step a single foot closer and I’ll have your head!”
Others followed Cygnus Black out the Manor; a man and a woman who resembled Cygnus so starkly they could only be his brother and sister, Alphard and Walburga. Remus tensed at the sight of them. He’d never encountered these three, but heard enough of their reputations to be wary. Remus watched Walburga in particular, who stood at Cygnus’ shoulder. Her dark wavy hair and silver grey eyes were painfully familiar.
“Now, now, Cygnus.” Greyback held his hands up. “Nothing but peace on our part. Your loyal subjects over there kindly showed us to your doorstep.”
The townsfolk fought to press their faces up to the iron gates. Alas, a single vicious glare from Cygnus scattered them away.
“Before we get ahead of ourselves,” Greyback continued, “I’d like to ask something of you, Cygnus. As I understand it, Riddle’s had some of his men searching for a certain stone for quite some time, hasn’t he? I was wondering how much you’d pay for it.”
Cygnus’ hand tightened round the sword at his hip. “You’re more insane than I thought. You think I’d believe you could find the Philosopher’s Stone?”
“Ah, but that’s the thing…” Greyback pulled the small chest out of his pocket and presented it with a sly smile. “We already have.”
Upon displaying the chest, Cygnus flinched back and drew his sword. He swung for Greyback, who jumped away just in time. Alphard, his brother, surged forwards and pulled Cygnus back by the arm.
Greyback signalled to Remus and Marlene. Together, they dropped from the wall to the courtyard grounds. They marched towards Greyback and flanked either side of him like bodyguards.
“Calm yourself!” Alphard hissed in Cygnus’ ear. “Think about this before you act so rashly, brother.”
“Rash?” Cygnus spluttered. His sword-point shifted from Remus to Marlene, then back to Greyback. “I’d argue this is perfectly reasonable! Kill the lot of them before they kill us!”
“Did you not listen to what I said?” Greyback drawled. “We’re not here for your blood, we’re here for your money.”
Alphard snatched the sword out of Cygnus’ hand. Walburga had not moved a muscle, rather unimpressed by the whole ordeal.
Alphard said to Greyback, “I’m sure you can understand the scepticism.”
“Can I? I thought we were money-scrounging mutts to you anyway. It shouldn’t be surprising we’d put aside dignity for a drop of gold- right, Black?”
Yes, Remus thought. Yes, that is fucking right. After all the effort he and Dorcas had gone through to find that godforsaken stone, all Greyback wanted to do was sell it off like a cheap trinket.
“I’m sceptical about what’s in that chest,” Alphard said. “How can you prove this isn’t a trick?”
Remus was glad for the hat and mask, which hid the conflicted emotions playing on his face. He seethed at the thought of the stone falling into Death Eater hands, but Remus had a plan - a plan already underway. He could only hope the Blacks wouldn’t figure it out until it was too late. Alphard’s interrogation wasn’t promising.
“I’m more than sceptical,” Walburga chimed in. Her lips twisted as she spoke, as if she was sucking a lemon. “The Philosopher’s Stone has been lost for centuries, and we have the very best searching for it. Alphard - why don’t you call for Bellatrix? And tell her to bring that friend of my son’s, the Crouch boy who mans the Salazar.”
Alphard looked hesitant, but complied. He disappeared into the Manor to retrieve Bellatrix and Crouch. Remus remembered them all too well from the skirmish near the Rosier’s port. The Salazar was the ship Dorcas used to be captain of, a ship dedicated to searching for the Philosopher’s Stone.
While Alphard was gone, Greyback continued, “You claim to have the very best, but not only did Dorcas Meadowes defect to me, I have the protégé of Alastor Moody as my navigator. They were responsible for finding the Stone.”
Cygnus’ searing glare shifted to Remus. “Ah yes, you’re the bastard that sunk my Man-of-War.”
So Cygnus was the fool at the wheel of the Deathly Hallow when it crashed into a rock while chasing them. Remus bristled under the weight of their stares.
“I’ve heard what they say about you, Lupin,” Walburga mused. “Such that I might just believe Greyback’s claims.”
“I’ve seen what he’s capable of with my own eyes,” Cygnus said. “Go on then, boy. If you really did, tell us where you found it.”
Remus said nothing.
Greyback rolled his eyes. “He’s wearing a mask, you fool. Does that monocle not work or are you just an idiot?”
Before Walburga could retort, the doors of the Manor flung open and Bellatrix Lestrange marched out with a manic glint in her eye.
She was as wild as Remus remembered her. The side of her black dress was fastened up to her hip, revealing the fishnets that cross-hatched her legs. There was a dark tattoo on her pale forearm, a snake emerging from the mouth of a skull. Her heels snapped sharply against the ground as she approached.
“Neither,” Bellatrix said as she stopped before Greyback. “My father simply can’t fathom why you muzzle your crew, unless you really do hire savage dogs. I, for one, find it amusing to watch. Blondie’s dying to get a word out, you can tell by the eyes.”
Bellatrix smiled wickedly at Marlene, who glared in return.
By the Manor, Alphard returned with a boy in tow. It was Crouch, the one who’d stood by Evan Rosier’s side as he slashed Mad-Eye’s throat. Crouch eyed up the Lycans surrounding the courtyard with the same manic bloodlust as Bellatrix.
“Are you seeing this, Barty?” Bellatrix called to him. “I think the blonde one wants to kill me.”
Crouch- Barty Crouch, stood at Bellatrix’s side and shared her snarling grin. “Go on,” he provoked Marlene. “Take it off. Or is that all you are? A gagged bitch?”
Rage flared behind Marlene’s dark irises, but she refused to react.
“Save it, will you both?” Alphard warned. He turned to Greyback and explained, “Barty Crouch here is one of the men Riddle has searching for the Stone. He knows first-hand how difficult it is to find.”
“Near impossible,” Barty said. “But you took Dorcas from us, you fuckers. If anyone could’ve found it, it’s her.”
“And so she did.” Greyback smiled. “But I’m not one to hoard all the glory. We have no use for the stone, not as your dear Mr Riddle does. We’re willing to sell it to you- for the right price, of course.”
“You’re not getting a single sickle from us!” Cygnus spat.
Alphard, once again, restrained his brother. “If that’s what it takes, Cygnus, we’ll do it. Riddle would be furious to hear we disregarded this opportunity.” He then said to Greyback, “I’ll give you fifty galleons for it.”
“Alphard!” Walburga chided. “Don’t be ridiculous, they’ll have ten galleons at most!”
“Yeah, Alphard,” Greyback chortled. “Don’t be ridiculous - we’ll take a hundred!”
“One hundred galleons?” Bellatrix said. “For a stone? You can fuck right off.”
“Language, Bella,” Walburga scolded.
“This freak show wants to rob you blind!” Barty said. “We may as well take it from them-”
“No,” Alphard snapped. “Don’t be so irresponsible, Crouch. If you want to cause bloodshed, do it on your own turf. But I’m willing to give fifty. That’s enough to buy yourself a whole new ship, Greyback.”
“You calling us poor? Eighty galleons.”
Alphard seemed to consider it.
Walburga swatted his arm. “Stop thinking about it, Alphard! They’ll take twenty galleons and be glad we caused no issue for their intrusion.”
“If we can’t compromise,” Greyback said, “I’ll have Lupin put the Stone right back where we found it. Or maybe a merchant will be more willing. I reckon we could even swindle a Ministry official for it.”
Barty said, “Good luck with that, my father’s head of law enforcement.”
Alphard ignored this and pressed, “Sixty galleons.”
“Hm. Seventy-five.”
Alphard pondered again.
Cygnus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t you dare, Alphard-”
“Is this really such an issue? I’ll pay out of my own pocket, and that’s only if they have the stone. We don’t know for definite yet! If they do have it, Riddle’s reward is sure to make up for whatever we pay.”
At that, Cygnus shut his mouth. Barty Crouch, for some reason, kept glaring at Remus.
Alphard begrudgingly agreed, “Seventy-five galleons-”
“And twenty sickles,” Greyback added.
“Fine. That’s a deal.”
“Open the chest first!” Cygnus demanded.
Greyback smirked and flicked back the lid. Sat upon a black velvet cushion was a stone, no bigger than an eyeball, with a glassy surface that reflected the moonlight. It shone crimson red, exactly as the Philosopher’s Stone was described.
“Voila,” Greyback declared. “The one and only Philosopher’s Stone.”
But it was nothing more than a paperweight.
“Crouch,” Cygnus said, “You take it.”
“Me? Why me?”
“You’re the goddamn expert, aren’t you? Take it.”
Greyback shook the chest enticingly. With a grimace, Barty reached for the stone inside. As soon as his hand wrapped around it, Greyback snapped the lid shut. Barty flinched back before it could trap his fingers and cursed under his breath.
“Well?” Alphard pressed. “What do you think of it, Crouch?”
A knot twisted in Remus’ chest.
“Err…” Barty turned it over in his hand. “It looks like it, I guess?”
Bellatrix frowned. “Is that it?”
“Well I don’t know! It’s a red rock, what more do you want? I can sort of feel a pull in the air, can’t you? Dorcas always said we’d feel it when we found it.”
“Hm…” Cygnus considered. “I suppose there is a strange air to it…”
“Because it’s the real stone!” Greyback said. “Do you think I’m idiotic enough to show up with a fake?”
The real thing, the true Philosopher’s Stone, was currently sat snug within Remus’ coat pocket, right beside the lucky ring Dorcas gave him. He patted the lump in his pocket, as if it might somehow escape. Remus worried they’d realise the tug was coming from him, not the paperweight in Barty’s hand, but a mere vibe was a hard thing to pin down.
“You have to be sure, Crouch,” Alphard said.
“You’re asking the wrong guy.” Barty thrusted the stone into Alphard’s hands. “Lucky for you, the one person who might know is just inside. You don’t like to hear it but it’s true.”
Remus’ brows furrowed, but the Black family shot each other knowing looks.
“Oh Merlin,” Bellatrix sighed. “Not him.”
“Who?” Greyback questioned.
“My son,” Walburga muttered.
“You have multiple.”
“The eldest, you fool. Sirius.”
Remus’ heart skipped.
“No.” Cygnus shook his head. “I’m not bringing that boy into this, he’s too careless.”
Good, Remus thought. Don’t call for him. Leave the arrogant sod out of it.
“But Crouch is right,” Alphard argued. “If anyone could confirm this is the true stone, it’s Sirius.”
Of course it had to be him. Remus might have laughed if his nerves weren’t so frayed.
“I don’t think that’s wise,” Walburga said. “My son is unpredictable, he can hardly be trusted in situations such as this.”
“Just bring the little bugger out already,” Greyback said. “We won’t judge whatever unfortunate miscreant you’ve produced.”
Alphard ignored Greyback and pressed to his siblings, “You underestimate Sirius. If you appreciated his eye for this sort of thing, you’d see how valuable he can be.”
Cygnus said, “Paired with that lax attitude, the boy is practically useless. He’d be better off a court jester. It’s a good thing you’re sending Regulus off on the Salazar, Walburga, it’ll do him well to be away from his brother.”
“Say what you like,” Alphard continued, “I need Sirius to look at this stone. Crouch, make yourself useful for once and call for him.”
Barty grumbled about it but did as he was told and trudged back into the Manor.
“Well,” Greyback began with a chuckle. “Won’t this be a charming family get-together?”
No one laughed - except Marlene. Behind her mask, she tried to stifle her snicker, but the faint shake of her shoulders gave her away.
Bellatrix’s eyes snapped to her. “Think something’s funny, blondie? Would you still be laughing if I cut off those pretty locks of yours?”
“Bella,” Alphard warned.
“This is your trade, Uncle, not mine. I can do what I like and this one’s easy to rile up. Tell me, blondie, if I throw a stick will you fetch it?”
Before anyone could react, a new voice rung out across the courtyard.
“It’s impolite to play with for food, Bella. Did no one teach you?”
The voice was deep and honey smooth, with a mocking lilt that made Remus’ mouth go dry before he even set eyes on the man.
Everyone turned to Sirius Black as he strode out of the Manor.
Over two years had passed since Remus last encountered him, and something about Sirius had changed. He didn’t seem so much of a boy anymore. He’d lost his angelic softness, yet was all the more handsome for it. The moonlight cast hard shadows on Sirius’ face and a ribbon tied back his long black hair.
He clasped a glass of wine in his hand that swirled precariously as he walked over. Each finger was adorned with an array of silver rings; skulls, snakes and sparkling gemstones.
Bellatrix glowered at him. “You can hardly lecture me on etiquette, Sirius.”
His shirt had flamboyant ruffles down the front. From his thick, black leather belt, silver chains looped down to the pockets of his breeches. A long, thin rapier sword with an elegant hilt was sheathed at his waist.
Remus instinctively glanced down at Sirius’ boots. They were heeled, black and polished, not scuffed or marked like the pair Remus wore. Would Sirius even remember all those years ago, when he dared to swap his shoes with a street boy’s rags? Remus doubted it.
“Nothing wrong with little advice, Bella dear,” Sirius teased. “You’re picking the wrong fight, can’t you see? It’s the quiet ones you want to look out for.”
Sirius’ eyes fell on Remus, unwavering. Sirius raised one brow, as if they were sharing a secret, and continued to stare hard at Remus over the rim of his glass as he took a sip of wine. Remus refused to be the first to look away.
Lips stained red, Sirius asked, “So what’s all this about a pebble?”
“Stone,” Walburga corrected.
This finally dragged Sirius’ attention away. Remus felt like he could breathe again.
“Stone? As in the Stone? Well that makes more sense. Here I was thinking this was a family get-together.”
Greyback scoffed.
Bellatrix gestured to the Lycans surrounding the courtyard. “With this lot present?”
Sirius shrugged. “Distant cousins, you never know. Then again, with all the inbreeding, I doubt our genes know the meaning of distant…”
There was a tense, awkward pause where no one was quite sure what to say. Once again, Marlene had to smother her laughter.
“Tough crowd,” Sirius mumbled into his glass as he took another sip.
Alphard put his hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “Greyback claims this is truly the Philosopher’s Stone. You’ve done research on it, haven’t you? I need you to make sure it’s really the one, to the best of your ability. I don’t want to waste seventy five galleons.”
“And twenty sickles,” Greyback added.
Sirius whistled. “Got off cheap there, haven’t you? If this thing really does make you live forever, I’d have paid a thousand.”
Greyback lit up. “Now there’s an idea-”
“Stop talking, Sirius.” Alphard shoved the stone into Sirius’ free hand. “Just look at it.”
Sirius weighed up the stone, then raised it to the moonlight. His eyes glinted as he scrutinised it. Feeling lightheaded, Remus clasped his hands behind his back and picked at the skin of his fingers till they bled.
“Well?” Bellatrix prompted.
“Give me a second, will you? This is a delicate art. I know that’s not something you’re acquainted with, Bella, but-”
“Sirius,” Alphard said. “The Stone.”
“Right, Stone, sorry- well, those dusty old books in the library say it’s like glass, not quite quartz, almost a cooled-lava type stone. Then again, we’re talking alchemy here which isn’t my strong suit-”
“That’s fine, I just need to hear your thoughts.”
Remus swore Sirius would spill even a drop of wine at the rate his hands moved when he spoke, but he never did. “Alright, let’s say we trust what the books say. Dorcas always did - I can’t imagine she’s all too happy you’re selling this to us, but I digress. The Stone does have the right markings. Red, reflective, weighs a fair bit. If this thing is real, it should be impossible to scratch or smash-”
There was something about Sirius Black that made Remus feel breathless. He hated it. He wanted to drive a knife into Sirius’ porcelain beauty and watch it crack. It was as if in every moment, Remus was waiting for Sirius to slip up and prove he was exactly the same as his family - violent, arrogant snobs.
“If you’re gonna fake it, you’d most likely use glass, even though it scratches easier. Still, you can tell the difference. A stone will make different sounds when tapped on others, while glass tends to have little bubbles inside, though it’s too dark out here to tell. I doubt you’re willing to invite this lot into our well-lit home?”
The silence was a resounding no.
Remus considered running off there and then. But then he’d have not only Death Eaters but Lycans after him too. That didn’t sound pleasant. He could only hope Sirius was rambling because he liked the sound of his own voice and nothing more.
“So can you tell or not?” Alphard asked.
“Of course I can.”
Remus closed his eyes and wished he were anywhere else. Why did he think this was a good idea, putting himself in such a risky position when he had Bill to get back to? Even Marlene didn’t know what he’d done. He was entirely on his own.
“The best comparison I can give is obsidian. That takes a whole lot of power to even dent. That’s what the Philosopher’s Stone is supposed to be. But glass…?”
Sirius lifted both his wine glass and the paperweight high above his head.
“You see… when glass is held at a good height and promptly dropped, you find it tends to-”
He let go. Both the wineglass and paperweight dropped. Remus’ hand twitched to catch it, but all he could do was watch.
The wineglass hit the ground and shattered.
So did the stone.
Because it was a cheap fucking paperweight and Remus Lupin had never felt more of a fool.
They both smashed into hundreds of tiny shards at Sirius’ feet. The fractals twinkled like stars and dregs of wine trickled between a groove in the stone floor.
“Smash,” Sirius concluded, as if the broken glass weren’t enough.
Silence. No one moved. No one except Sirius, who turned his palms towards the sky - arms still up - as his lips unfurled into a grin. “Whoops.”
A dagger flew at Marlene’s face.
“McKinnon!”
She dodged it in time. The blade impaled itself in the fountain behind her, right through the eye of the snake statue.
Marlene blinked in shock. She turned to Bellatrix, whose hand was extended, post-throw, a murderous look in her eyes. Marlene touched a drop of blood from a cut on her ear. Then she reached for her axe, and all hell broke loose.
Lycans dropped from the walls and swarmed the courtyard. The Blacks drew their weapons with shouts of alarm. Marlene charged at Bellatrix.
In the sudden rush of panic, Remus had only one thought. Run.
The chaos caused plenty of distraction for him to escape the onslaught of fighting. There was no time to be subtle about it so he sprinted for the far wall of the courtyard. After pushing past Lycans charging the opposite way, he reached the wall and dug his fingers into the grooves. With a last glance at the fight behind him, Remus hoisted himself up the wall, vaulted over the top, and disappeared down the other side.
A steep drop loomed below him. Where the wall ended, the cliffside began. Remus fumbled for somewhere to dig his feet it, scraping his boots against any ledges.
Once he clambered down the wall to the rocky cliff-face, it became easier to find more secure holdings. He scaled his way down it, adrenaline thrumming through him. Right hand down, left foot down, left hand, right foot and so on. Over and over until he was low enough to jump the rest of the way.
He landed on the sturdy wooden planks of the docks. The narrow promenade ran all along the harbour, where piers jutted out into the sea, an assortment of ships tied to them.
Lantern light glowed up ahead, but Remus was shrouded in darkness where he stood beneath the overhanging courtyard. Dorcas wouldn’t be able to see him from the Lupa, not a chance. He had to get to the boats.
Ignoring the cries of battle overhead, Remus set off running down the docks. His eyes raked along the piers in search of a boat, all too big, too bulky, too-
He spotted a small sailboat bobbing in the water. It was dwarfed by all the other ships, with a single triangle sail fluttering against a short mast. Waves crashed high and a salty spray freckled Remus’ boots. The small boat thudded against the pier, tied to a post with a thick rope.
Remus tugged at the knot, but it was tight. Cursing under his breath, he pulled and pulled at the rope, palms burning at the friction until finally, it came free. But as Remus uncoiled the rope, his ears pricked to another sound behind him. Footsteps.
They were quick. Someone running. The sharp thud of boots growing louder and louder until-
Remus didn’t think. He crouched over the boat, grabbed the oar, and hoped to God it wasn’t a Lycan behind him as he swung it round with full force.
The flat end smacked across Barty Crouch’s face, then it snapped off and fell into the water.
Remus was now holding a short stick as Barty stumbled back, dizzy. Then he righted himself and lunged at Remus. As they grappled with each other, the stick was flung into the water.
Barty grabbed Remus’ coat and yanked him close, but Remus used the momentum to swing one leg around Barty’s and swept it out from under him. As Barty fell, he dragged Remus down with him.
They landed on the deck with a thud, Barty on his back, Remus straddling him.
Barty had a vice grip on Remus’ neck. Remus reached up to pry the fingers off his throat, but Barty let go anyway and bent Remus’ fingers back hard.
They cracked.
Remus barely suppressed his yell as pain rippled down his hand. It felt like every knuckle was broken.
Barty kneed him hard in the groin then lurched up from under him, swapping their positions. Now Remus’ back hit the floor and his hat skidded away.
Barty wrapped his legs round Remus’ waist and grinned down at him, all teeth. A bright red mark had bloomed on his left cheek.
“Thought you could run off, did you?”
Remus couldn’t move his hand. It was numb. Barty leaned his full weight on Remus’ thighs and held his uninjured arm above his head, pinning Remus down.
Barty still had a free hand. With it, he plucked out Remus’ own knife from inside his coat. Barty admired the blade, then pressed the edge of it to the top of Remus’ mask. His eyes widened.
“Loopy, loony Lupin…” Barty drawled. “Y’know, I heard a rumour that you were the kid that killed Corban Yaxley. That true?”
Barty trailed the knife upwards, a cool line along Remus’ skin, raising goosebumps. He only pressed down harder when Remus tried to move his head away.
“Ah-ah-” Barty warned. “Don’t fucking try it, Lupin. Mad-Eye’s protégé, ey? Think you’re like that son of a bitch, do you?”
As the blade curved around Remus’ eye, Barty’s intentions dawned on him with horror.
“Not all the same though, are you, Lupin? What a nice fuckin’ eye, you’ve got. How ‘bout I sort that out?”
So he stabbed the knife into Remus’ left brow and dragged it down through his eyeball.
Remus writhed and thrashed but Barty was unfazed. The knife drove right through his eye with a sickening squelch.
Remus’ leg jerked outwards, heel slamming against the pier. The pain was a white-hot poker through his skull.
“Go on, Lupin,” Barty snarled. “Let it out, you know you want to. Scream.”
Remus desperately tried to cut off the sound emerging in his throat, that deep-rooted desire for silence deteriorating fast. He was far past any sense of comprehension. The blade twisted in his face and the agony made all thoughts disappear. Barty had gutted his mind out.
Remus might’ve screamed at this point, if only Barty’s weight hadn’t suddenly disappeared from on top of him.
He was just- gone.
The knife clattered to the floor beside Remus’ head.
At first, he couldn’t fathom it. Then a shriek sounded nearby.
Remus grunted as he pushed himself up on his elbows, straining one eye to see past the haze of blood.
It was Marlene.
He couldn’t see her properly, but he was sure the yelling belonged to her. It was followed by a scream- of anger or pain, he couldn’t tell. But they were fighting, Barty and Marlene, pulling each other around, blades flashing.
Remus couldn’t feel his face.
“Go!” Marlene shrieked.
It occurred to Remus, mindlessly, she must’ve taken her mask off. Lucky, he thought. She can scream.
“Remus, go!”
What? Go? But how-
“Leave! Quick!”
You have the stone. The boat. Go.
Remus squinted at their blurred figures. Marlene hooked an arm round Barty’s neck, yanking him away. Giving you time. Go.
Remus threw himself off the pier and collapsed into a heap on the small boat. He fumbled for the rope and threw his whole weight back, pulling it free from the pole.
The sail caught the wind and flung the boat away from the pier. From there, it was out of his control.
Marlene and Barty’s cries grew quieter as the sailboat receded. Soon, Remus could hear nothing but the crashing waves and blood that rushed to his head.
He curled up in the middle of the small boat like a whimpering cub. He managed to pull the glove off his broken hand, which was entirely limp and useless. He balled up the glove and stuffed it into the bloody hole of his eye socket.
His movements were weak and sluggish. Nothing felt real. No way to reach the Lupa, not without an oar and not in the pain-consumed, delirious state he was in. Remus let himself be swept away by the ocean, at the mercy of its whims.
The last thing he remembered was ripping off his mask and tossing it aside. He filled his lungs with air, then tied the boat’s rope around his head to hold the glove in place.
It blinded him fully, but it didn’t matter. Everything around him was black anyway - the sky, the sea. He was a boy playing at being a wolf; blinded, broken and bleeding, fed into the mouth of a storm.
The moon was gone when Remus next awoke, groggy and groaning and entirely unaware of his surroundings. But he knew the moon was gone for certain.
His back ached and his head imploded over and over again, burying any thoughts he had before he could process them. At least the world no longer rocked from side to side. That small gratitude encouraged Remus to push himself up into a sitting position.
He was still inside the boat. He realised this as he gripped onto the mast for stability. His other hand sat broken and bloody in his lap.
There was something wrapped around his head, crooked so that it didn’t quite cover the one eye he could see with. Remus pulled it off- the rope, he recalled. I tied a rope around my head. He blinked slowly and rubbed at the red flakes that had dried on his lashes. His other eye was the source of his most agonising pain.
How long had he been at sea like this? Hours? Days? Did it matter? He’d washed ashore. He was somewhere and that was better than nowhere. Somewhere with a hole in his face, mouth parched and hand broken.
Remus pushed his weight against the side of the small boat. It tipped sideways and he tumbled out onto the sand- warm, soft, golden sand. He lied in a sprawl on his stomach, in the middle of a beach that stretched for miles either side of him.
Squinting, he spotted a ridge in the distance, a small cliffside where the beach met dirt and grass. He clawed his hands into the sand, trying to drag himself toward it, but the exhaustion won over and Remus slumped onto his back.
Blue sky. No moon. A few white, fluffy clouds that morphed before his eyes, spinning and dizzy. He could feel the light-headedness creeping back over him, black spots crawling across his vision.
He fumbled with his pockets and pulled out a red stone and a ruby ring. Relief thrummed through him, though he couldn’t remember why. He clutched the stone and ring tightly to his chest with his good hand and squeezed his working eye shut.
As his mind tumbled back into unconsciousness, two strong hands wrapped under his arms and hauled him away.