InsaneJournal

Fic: Red Serpent (8/12)
Title: Red Serpent (8/12)
Author/Artist: skitty_kat
Rating: R
Warnings: death, destruction, sex, violence, torture and a gratuitous explosion or two. Yikes.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and associated characters belong to JK Rowling. James Bond was created by Ian Fleming.
Word Count: 2338 (31881 overall)
Summary: Remus Lupin is a spy, one of British Intelligence's finest, and this may be his most deadly mission yet. Armed with only his native wit and courage and assisted by the enigmatic and magnetic Severus Snape he must penetrate deep into Communist Russia to bring down the powerful Lord Voldemort.
A/n: This fic contains illustrations, set in the appropriate places within the text. Love to drachenmina for the fabulous beta and, this chapter, a really bad joke.
Chapter One: M's Man - Chapter Two: A Bar With A Reputation - Chapter Three: Dinner For Two - Chapter Four: Small Spaces and Close Encounters - Chapter Five: The Howl Of The Wolf - Chapter Six: To Travel Lustfully... - Chapter Seven: Arrival At The Truth



The cell was as bleak as before and this time the door was locked. Lupin checked for ways to escape almost mechanically. Medieval builders knew their job well. The walls were thick and in a disappointingly good state. The door was no better; a great wooden affair with stronger hinges than any so-called craftsman would bother with today. Ventilation shafts large enough to fit a man - such as had served Lupin beautifully before - were unsurprisingly lacking. And the little lock pick in his watch could do nothing against the bolts on the other side of the door. All in all, the cell was something its builders could be proud of; still inescapable long after its makers had crumbled to dust.

Lupin paced, sat down, and then paced some more. He cursed Riddle, Snape (though this made him feel faintly guilty so he cursed Riddle again), medieval workmen, M for sending him on this godforsaken mission in the first place, Riddle for a third time and finally himself for being such a damn fool. Riddle had left him the photos again, spread out in lewd display. Lupin gathered them into a neat pile and left them face-down on the floor. He had looked through them as he did and was a little perturbed by the arousal he felt. He eventually stopped examining them as he piled them up, not wanting to be in that state at such an inopportune time.

The chair he had been chained to earlier was still there. Lupin sat on it, elbows on knees and head on hands, eyes staring blankly at the white backs of the photographs and mind racing. How had Riddle known to find him? If Snape hadn't informed on him - and Lupin was prepared to believe that now - then who had? Riddle's plan, twisted as it was, had required preparation. He couldn't just have hoped a British agent would fall into his hands. Lupin had been led, blindly, by the nose through all of this and, apparently, so had Snape. Riddle knew he was coming, Lupin was sure. But how?

Muffled noises began to seep through from outside the cell, disrupting his contemplation. They were too quiet to distinguish at first, playing on the edge of hearing. Lupin's head rose in curiosity. It was something else to concentrate on other than endless questions, at least.

A few minutes later he wished he hadn't been listening quite so intently. A choked scream stuttered through the wall, followed by a howl of laughter that chilled Lupin even more. It was Snape, it had to be. Somewhere nearby they were torturing Snape and Lupin couldn't do a damn thing to stop it. It wasn't even torture for a reason; they weren't trying to pry information from the man. It was torture for the cruel joy of it. Lupin felt sick to his stomach. He dropped his head to his hands once more and tried not to listen.





He had been in the cell for about an hour before Crabbe and Goyle – who he recognised from Snape’s descriptions; there probably weren’t too many Death Eaters who looked like they’d been “kicked out of the giant clans for being too stupid” - came to fetch him. He went with them quietly biding his time. A too-early attempt fight, even supposing it had gone well, would probably only have left him injured and lost in the dungeons of the huge castle. As it was he walked docilely beside the two thugs, restrained only by their hands on his shoulders. The steps up from the dungeons were rough-cut stone blocks, uneven and worn, and more than easy enough to stumble on.

He fell into Goyle. The man did not even stagger, apparently being as solidly built as the stones around them. He smelt, though, of sweat and meat. Lupin was grateful when he was pulled upright again. He was more grateful, however, for the little pick-pocketing he had managed in the fall and the useful item he had stolen. A Swiss army knife, blade retracted, was in Lupin's possession and that was a good deal better than nothing.

Crabbe and Goyle kept a tighter grip on him from that point, pulling him through high-arched hallways without a sideways glance. Hogwarts Castle was old, Lupin realised, glancing around as he was led along. The cells had seemed old, of course, but a dungeon in one place could be remarkably similar to a dungeon in another. Here in the castle proper Lupin had the bizarre impression that he had been transported back several centuries. There were tapestries on the walls; not in the best condition but there nonetheless. Threadbare eyes watched the three pass and were joined in their surveillance by gazes of dimmed and cracking paint. Portraits stared down from all sides: a knight, a centaur, and a lady of operatic proportions. As Lupin watched the fat lady tried to pull her hand free from the damaged section of paint, stamping her foot in frustration when she couldn't. This was a magical place then, he realised, or had been some time ago. It had clearly fallen into disrepair but the magic was still there, hanging in the air. This could be a place of power, which explained why Riddle wanted it.

A long corridor led to the largest set of doors Lupin had seen yet, beside a grumbling generator. Dark, heavy oak was held with ornate iron hinges that swung easily at Crabbe's push. Beyond them lay a great hall; long and wide with a high arched ceiling almost too high to see. Tall diamond-paned windows shone with moonlight, illuminating areas the electric light setup did not reach. It was like being in a church, not that Lupin felt in the least bit reverential. The priest of this pale stone was not a godly man; for all that his dark robes gave that impression. Lupin spotted the shadowy figure among the fluorescent lighting and moonlight easily. Riddle waited a little way down but he was not alone.

Lupin recognised the slightly hunched figure in front of Riddle instantly, and reacted with fury.

'Pettigrew!' he spat, lunging for the man.

Crabbe and Goyle's hands pulled him up short but he continued to glare at him. Pettigrew was secretary to James Potter, M's chief-of-staff and one of Lupin's dearest friends. What Pettigrew was doing here, apparently in obeisance to Riddle, was slowly dawning on Lupin with sudden clarity. Riddle had known he was coming and Pettigrew had to have been how he knew. The sneaky little rat must have been passing information directly from within the secret service!

'You traitor, Pettigrew,' he growled, wanting nothing more than to wrap his fingers around that pudgy throat and squeeze the breath out of the loathsome creature. 'You damned traitor!'

Riddle, watching with clear amusement, chuckled. He ran a long finger along the side of the large python incongruously wrapped around his neck, keeping his eyes on Lupin the whole time.

'You don't seem to mind traitors when they're in your bed,' he commented slyly.

The snigger from Pettigrew was enough to set Lupin fighting against the two thugs guarding him again, though still with little success. The fact that Pettigrew knew was the worst. It was one thing these Russians knowing but Pettigrew, someone who knew him from home and normality, having that information made him feel sick.

'I always knew there was something ... unnatural about him,' Pettigrew was simpering, 'something perverted.'

'Not as perverted as you selling out your country for your thirty pieces of silver!' Lupin shouted, struggling against Crabbe and Goyle. 'What do you think you're getting, Pettigrew, a chance to rise above your own pathetic mediocrity?'

'A chance to save my country from the bloated plutocrats!' declared Pettigrew. 'Communism will overcome, Lupin, and when it does the rich and the wealthy and those like you who prop up the outmoded, so-called democracy will pay for their crimes. Ordinary people will have the right to run their own lives!'

'You fool,' said Lupin, 'you stupid fool. It'll never work, especially not with power-hungry idiots like him in charge! You can't listen to his lies!'

'Shut up! You just don't want true democracy!'

'Now, boys,' Riddle's voice cut across like a knife through silk, shredding their argument with charismatic authority. 'Let's not bore ourselves with politics. You won't sway dear Peter with your silly arguments, Mr. Lupin, he knows what's right. He's been persuaded of that for quite some time, in fact. Thanks to Peter we knew your friend Black was heading for Russia almost before he did. And that provided us with the admirable opportunity to flush out our own little traitor.' He sighed a little theatrically. 'And to think it was Severus. I always thought he was so intelligent.'

'He's more intelligent than the rest of your little friends,' Lupin shot back. 'He, at least, has worked out that while the theory is sound the practice most certainly isn't. You might come out of this just fine but no one else will. All men are equal except those who are more equal: namely you, am I right?'

'How witty you are, Mr. Lupin,' Riddle drawled. 'You've read your Orwell, at least. As to Severus; if he were clever enough he'd never have put any trust in that fool Black.'

'Sirius wasn't a fool!'

Riddle laughed. 'He wasn't the man you like to think he was. Bella had barely had him for half a day before he gave us Severus's name. After that, of course, it was … curtains for him.' Riddle’s laugh gained something of a maniacal edge.

Lupin's blood roared in his ears. Heat spread across his face. Black had betrayed Snape under torture; under the same torturess that had Snape in her clutches even now. Lupin's fists clenched. The Black he knew would never have given away his friends even under the worst of circumstances. Either the torture was that bad or Black had given away Snape easily. Neither was a welcome thought.

'I don't believe the two of them got along very well,' Riddle continued. 'Some of the names your friend Black came out with ... well, I dare say he would not have approved of your relations with Severus. We let him believe that Severus had betrayed him, of course. He believed that until the end. We let Severus think that Black had kept his silence and that way he led you straight to us. Clever, is it not?' He smiled. 'I am rid of my traitor and gain a way into Britain in one fell swoop.'

Pettigrew sniggered, rubbing his hands. His weak, twitchy eyes squinted at Lupin.

'We didn't expect you to end up in bed together though,' said Riddle. 'That was most obliging of you. You saved us a great deal of trouble.'

Not for the first time Lupin cursed his own libido. It had got him in a real mess of a situation all right and it was his own fault. He couldn't blame Snape. The man had proved to be trustworthy, at least as far as Lupin was concerned, and he couldn't help what he was. Besides, from the sounds of it Riddle had had his own plans along similar lines. Lupin's own actions hadn't helped but the outcome would probably have been the same. He could imagine the look on M's face already.

'Of course,' Riddle continued, 'we still have some work to do. Namely, your deaths.' He turned his head, the snake mimicking his move, as the doors opened again. 'Ah, Severus. I do trust Bellatrix has been expressing herself adequately.'

Lupin winced as he saw Snape being dragged in. By the looks of things the man couldn't stay on his own feet and was instead being hauled along by two Death Eaters. His skin was horribly pale and covered in a cold sweat, not to mention several bruises. Blood had dried around his nose and mouth and when he opened his mouth to spit curses at Riddle Lupin could see that some of those crooked teeth were missing. One of Snape's wrists flopped at an angle that Lupin's experience told him meant it was broken. Lupin's eyes met Snape's briefly but the eye contact was abruptly broken by Snape looking pointedly away.

'Not quite the passionate reunion you were hoping for, Mr. Lupin?' Riddle asked. 'Severus is very good at holding grudges, I'm afraid. You seem to have rather upset him by thinking he had betrayed you. Never mind, you won't be getting the cold shoulder for very long.'

His snake uncoiled from his neck, her head rising. She flicked her tongue at Snape, tasting the air he breathed out with lascivious hunger. Snape glared at her, though there was a visible jerk backwards from him as her head darted forwards a few inches. Riddle chuckled and ran a finger across her scales.

'No need for that, Nagini, my love,' he said softly, 'we have a far more ... romantic fate in store for our two lovers. A tragedy worthy of Shakespeare.' He continued talking to the snake, though his occasional sly glances at Lupin and Snape revealed his true audience. 'Two men from different sides; doomed never to be together in life but forever entwined in death.' Nagini hissed appreciatively, the tip of her tongue just brushing Riddle's nose in a grotesque parody of affection. 'I doubt the great British press will take such a sentimental view of the story though. The more lurid aspects of a top British spy being hauled from a lake wrapped around his homosexual Russian lover will keep them busy enough.'

Lupin saw Snape flinch and felt a momentary pang of pity for the man. International espionage was a nasty business and he wondered if Snape had fully considered the consequences of turning on his own side. Spies had no rights and defectors even fewer.

'It's time for a short swim, Mr. Lupin,' Riddle said, 'downwards.'



Chapter Nine: A Cold Final Kiss