A Little Help from a Snake // Tomarry

Part 62*

Azkaban. He was in Azkaban.

Tom shuddered as he remembered exactly how he came here. He had received a note telling him to come to Remus' office. For some reason, he had not checked it over, so he had gone through, only to find himself face to face with Dumbledore while a bound Remus lay between them.

Tom mentally kicked himself for not being more careful. You'd think he would have been more suspicious.

A whimper broke him out of his thoughts.

"Remus?"

He could only just make out the figure huddled in the cell next to his, trembling.

"N-no... Don't... Don't hurt him..." His voice grew more desperate and an agonized groan slipped from his lips. "No! Please... I'll do it..."

"Remus. Remus! Wake up, it's not real!" But even as Tom said this, coldness seeped into body, chilling him to the bone.

He heard screaming — his own screaming — and could see himself as clearly as if it had been yesterday as part of his soul detached and absorbed into the diary.

Happy memories, Tom. Think!

But none came, only the overwhelming despair and desperation he had felt all that time.

"My Lord?" a voice rasped.

Tom's eyes flew open. When did I close my eyes?

He forced himself to look, and found himself staring into the dark eyes of a tall, skinny man in the cell across from him.

It took a moment for Tom to speak. "Who are you?"

"You don't remember?" Surprise flickered in the man's eyes. "Rodolphus Lestrange. I am one of yours, my Lord."

Bellatrix's husband. Not that she really cared for him. A marriage contract joined them together, but that was as far as it went on both sides.

"I'm not your Lord," Tom murmured.

"But you are." Rodolphus shifted around. "That's what they've been saying."

"They're wrong," Tom said as harshly as he could with his memories raging war inside his mind.

"Wrong? How are they —"

Another voice, this one less gruff, spoke. "My Lord?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "I just said I'm not your —" He broke off as a growl sounded from next to him. Remus had lifted his head, hostility darkening his features.

"Pettigrew."

Tom was instantly more alert. He leaned forward as far as the manacles would allow him to and peered closer to get a better glimpse of the other man.

He was very short and had mousy brown hair that had thinned out over time. He blanched at Remus' less-than-happy response but pressed on. "Moony, my old friend."

"You lost the right to call me that when you decided to stab your friends in the back," Remus snapped, turning away and curling up. The dementors didn't seem to have an effect on him at that moment.

Pettigrew recoiled again but persisted. "But you serve our Lord —"

"I'm not his Lord," Tom interrupted him. "And if I could, I would hex the next person who so much as thinks that."

Pettigrew fell silent.

Remus groaned softly, his head in his hands. His momentary show of strength was gone as his memories clouded his mind once more.