What if Peter hadn't been the secret-keeper, but still a traitor?

[alwaysimpure]

It wasn't often that Sirius considered, even for a moment, being grateful to his mother. She had made his life misery, she had turned his brother from him, she had messed him up the way only family could. But at least she had also prepared him for pain, definitely for more pain than any growing child should have to experience and through enough that he had been able to withstand more torture than most minds could take since he'd been captured.

A trap, a simple one, but he had trusted Peter and that had made this so easy. Of course he'd trusted Peter. Not because Peter was brave or overly loyal, but because he just didn't seem capable of deceit. Too much the coward, too stupid. he had underestimated him and that's how he ended up here. Some dungeon, who knew where, chained to the wall, wandless and in pain.

Deatheaters weren't gentle captors, especially not to bloodtraitors. He hadn't eaten or drunk, hell, hadn't slept or pissed since this started, not that he had any way of telling how much time had passed. But as long as there was so much importance on getting the truth from him, at least Sirius knew that they were still safe and that gave him strength like nothing else.

There was no one with him at the moment, a short but welcome reprieve. Sirius had closed his eyes, tried to use wandless magic to find some spell to break the chains, hopeless as that was. He'd have been better of focusing his strength on a healing spell, but that had never been his style. Too much of a fighter.

Comments

[the_corsair]

As far as Death Eater's went, John was a fairly simple Wizard. He did not want fame and glory, didn't actually care all that much about the mudbloods or the muggles. Just about the only thing he did care about was the ability to give the ministry a giant fuck you and do as he pleased with his magic. Why should they cower and hide like cockroaches from light, when they had magic at their disposal? If the argument was to do with numbers, he was fairly certain the fear they could invoke, and the aid of their magic, was more than enough to compensate.

What he did dislike, however, were holier than thou blood traitors who thought that they could actually measure up against The Dark Lord and play the roll of the white knight. So when given the chance to go wild with his dark desires, magical and sharp alike, he agreed to the task with a chipper grin that flashed white teeth and cruel intentions.

"Not falling asleep on me, are you, Black?" His wand flicked idly but he didn't cast another spell just yet, dragging the door shut again behind him.

[alwaysimpure]

"Not tonight, love. I've got a headache."

Sirius's mother had been fond of prophesying how his tongue would be the death of him. Currently death was pretty low down on the list of terrible things that could happen to him and all he had left in the way of defense, in the way of showing how little they actually got to him was his humor. Although, admittedly, his humor was better when he hadn't been tortured for a few days.

He opened his eyes, fingers curling in so his nails could press into his palms. He wasn't scared of John, he told himself, just not comfortable with being at his mercy.

"People often fall asleep on you?" he asked, faking polite interest.