Title: Killer
Author: Draconn Malfoy
Feedback: lionora@hotmail.com
Summary: When Remus has gone to missing, everybodyís convinced that he is dead -- or that the Death Eaters have captured the werewolf. In the end Severus finds out that everyone has been terribly, horribly wrong...
Challenge: 193) SS/RL is (presumed) dead, but comes back. The other has to cope...
Rating: R
A/N: When Iíd written When the Shadows Cry, somebody said that I could make them believe anything. So, I attempted making Remus evil. Whether I succeeded, you decide.
My thousand thanks to Lyssepoo, who was my beta.
WARNINGS: implied violence and madness, very implied non-con, obviously evil!Remus. NOT for Remus-lovers. (Merlin knows Iím one, but, oh well...)




For the fifth time in the last quarter of an hour, Severus tried to struggle against his chains. Well, not really chains, rather magical bindings. But whatever they were called, they bound him tightly to the floor of the small stone cell.

This was all just some long, dark nightmare -- it had to be. This couldnít be true. After hearing of the Dark Lordís newest plans, Severus had of course immediately informed Dumbledore. Theyíd planned a counterattack -- except that the Death Eaters never attacked their original goal. Instead, theyíd come right to the backs of the Light forces, winning them with the simple surprise factor. There was no way he could have maken a mistake -- unless somebody had betrayed them.

But who? Who could it have been? Everybody who knew of his spying had been there, on their side in the battle -- and they were all dead now. Severus had seen them fall. Dumbledore, Shacklebolt, Moody, even the Potter boy -- they were all gone now, the children never having a real chance at life. The only ones he hadnít seen there were those who were dead -- Black, and Remus.

Remus. That thought still stung. He hadnít seen the goldenhaired Gryffindor after the Ministry had forced through its latest regulation a month ago. Before, theyíd only required the werewolves to carry a "wolftag" on a necklace or a bracelet -- but now, they demanded them all to take a special tattoo on their cheek, so everybody would immediately see them for what they were. Of course, Remus hadnít wanted to obey such a horrible order, and had escaped.

It hadnít been until the werewolf had gone into hiding that Severus had admitted that Remus maybe wasnít just a murderous beast, and not until heíd disappeared entirely that heíd realized his feelings for him. Heíd realized that he was in love with the man -- but not until he was dead. Dead, or kidnapped by the Death Eaters, which was a fate even worse than the death.

He should know that. It was what had happened to him, after all. It was what he was -- a prisoner of the Dark Lord. Heíd only been saved in the battle so that he could be "properly punished" now for betraying his Master. Voldemort had personally told him that, and heíd also told him that his executioner would arrive soon.

The door was opened, and Severus raised his eyes exhaustedly. At first, he only saw a Death Eaterís robe, and a white mask, and hoped that he would be killed as soon and painlessly as possible, not that that was very probable. As soon as the person started to remove his mask, he knew that his death would not be fast.

And when he saw the face of his killer, he knew that even if heíd been given the gentlest of potions from this man, the death wouldn't have been painless.

"Nice to see you again, Severus," Remus said with a smirk. "The Dark Lord has decided that as I was the one to reveal your true colours, I shall also be the one to execute you."

Severus sighed resignedly, not wanting to believe it to be true but knowing that it was. "So he knew, didnít he?" he asked blankly. "Even before the attack, he knew of me. You had told him."

"Why, of course," replied the Gryffindor lightly. "A spy is your enemyís tool only for as long as you donít know of them. After that, they are your tools." With an even broader smirk, he added, "Or, as you could also put it, keep your friends near... and your enemies even nearer."

"Like Albus kept you?" spat the Slytherin. "He gave you a place where you were safe, and you betrayed him!"

"A place to be safe, indeed," said his former ally dryly. "He spent me to the most secluded corner of the Earth -- I could have been in the outer space just as well. I was hiding there -- or at least I was supposed to be. Except that I never even arrived to this Ďsafeplaceí -- instead, I wandered around the woods until the next full moon. And after that, I came to Voldemort, knowing that at least here my kind would be appreciated. And so I am. No brands, no tattoos to mark my race. I am just like anybody else in his forces -- free to act like myself."

Severus shivered. Hearing these emotionless, unfeeling words so casually rolling from the gentle manís tongue hurt him more than any of Voldemortís tortures could have.

"You all thought that, didnít you, Severus?" asked the werewolf with a frighteningly calm voice. Frighteningly, since nobody with that gleam in their eyes should be able to appear calm. "You thought that Iíd just went into hiding. That once again Iíd given up my true self to escape the worldís hatred."

"Yes," replied the Potions Master quietly. "Yes, that is what we thought."

"Well, you were wrong." Remus got to his feet and stretched in a feline manner that shouldnít have fit him so well. "I was tired of pretending to be something that I was not. Pretending not to be what I was. All my life Iíve pretended -- all my life, Severus! I was bitten when I was three, and since then, my life has been just lies -- and now Iím finally got fed up with it."

"You didnít have to pretend," tried Severus to argue, even though he knew it to be in vain. "You could have just been yourself. Your friends would have cared for you even then."

"Oh, but they wouldnít have, Severus, my dear," chuckled the werewolf with some dry amusement. "They cared for the calm, quiet Remus they saw. But that was not me, no, it was anything but me. That was how I had to act in order to keep the Ministry off my neck. I was what my wolf was -- or, rather, half of me was what the wolf was. But I tried to deny it -- I tried to deny that the wolf was in me. I tried to deny myself."

This time, Severus didnít say anything. He just bit his lip, feeling angry, angry and disappointed and betrayed all at the same time.

"Ever heard of Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde, Severus?" asked Remus in his ever-cheerful manner. "That was one of my favourite Muggle novels when I was young. They were the same man, really -- Doctor Jekyll had everything good and kind there was in him, while Mister Hyde had all his so-called Ďevilí characteristics. My friends thought I found it fascinating because it represented me and the wolf -- the wolf was evil, nasty, bloodthirsty, anything like that, while I, I was the perfect angel boy."

"But it wasnít so," guessed Severus. For some reason, he felt tired -- too tired to do anything.

"No, it wasnít so. It definitely wasnít. You see, while Mister Hyde let all his evil deeds and desires in charge, Doctor Jekyll was in a complete control of himself. And I realized even back in my childhood that that was where Iíd gone wrong. I tried in vain to control my both sides -- and that was plain impossible, of course. Only a part of me could be controlled. So, when I tried in vain to stay in control of my wolf side, I couldnít show my true human side, and had to resort to that faint reflection instead."

"Have you now let your wolf side free, then?" asked Severus with a broken voice. He knew already what the answer would be.

"Yes, I have," said Remus simply, like heíd told that heíd written a letter. "Last full moon, I killed. Iíve never killed before, Severus, not in my wolf form, at least. You wouldnít believe the feeling of power it gave to me. I tore them into shreds -- there was a woman and her two children, Severus, you wouldnít believe how they screamed! -- and I drank their blood. I drank their blood, and it was like the nectar of the gods."

Severus tried to turn his head away, unable to face at the werewolf. However, the spells wouldnít let him to do that. "Youíve become a monster," he accused tiredly. "Youíre nothing but a bloodthirsty monster. Thatís all youíve become!"

"No, Severus, this is not what Iíve become," told Remus amusedly. "This is all Iíve ever been. This is what you refused to see -- you all. You told me that I had to fight the wolf, that I _could_ fight the wolf, but you didnít realize that I _was_ the wolf. Thereís no telling us apart, Severus, not a line you could draw between me and the wolf. I _am_ the wolf, the wolf _is_ me, and at last, Iím wholly free." An almost insane laughter escaped his lips as he said, "You told me to fight it -- and while doing that, you were digging your own grave. Telling me to deny myself, not realizing that one day the true me would break out -- and that you wouldnít like that me. Well, this is what I really am -- or if not, then this is what _you_ have made me. The Ministry, the Order, Dumbledore, my so-called friends. Iím your creation."

"Thatís not true!" argued the Potions Master. He couldnít believe that Remus was saying all this!

"Oh, but it is true, Sevvie my dearest, isnít it. Iíve always had to fight my true self -- to be allowed to the school, to be accepted to the world, to have the little of a job you allowed me to have. To stay alive, I had to put aside everything of my wolf side, and everything of my human side also -- if Iíd been even a bad-tempered teenager, Iíd been called a monster and executed. I didnít have the right to have human feelings, since any negative feelings from me were taken for sure signs of a beast. Well, now all those suppressed feelings have broken free -- and you lot will suffer the consequences."

Severus looked into Remusís amber eyes, and at that moment he knew that he was fighting a losing battle. There was not a single hint of the previous man in those eyes -- just cold, bloodlusting malice. It was the wolf -- the wolf that had taken over Remus.

After a moment of silence Remus smirked a bit. "As wonderful our little chat has been, Iím afraid I have to end it now," he said with an almost careless tone. "Itís three nights to the next full moon, so brace yourself, Severus, mídear. Iíll see you then -- if you live that long." With a flick of his wand, he lit flames along the walls in a flickering firewall that went around the room. The flames were shining brightly, and an almost unbearable warmth enveloped them immediately. "You always liked Light, didnít you, Severus?" he purred. "Well, light you will surely have -- light and warmth, all youíve ever craved. Donít worry, they wonít kill you -- just leave you weak and defeated for the time I come to meet you. Who knows? Maybe Iíll have a bit of fun with you before the moon rises. Unless, of course, you decide to take the easier way and throw yourself to the flames. I hope you wonít -- I expect better from you, Severus." With a cruel laugh, he turned around and walked to the door, the only place where there were no flames. As soon as the door was closed, the spell binds tying Severus let go, dropping him to the cold stone floor. Also, the hellish wall of fire became complete, flames now dancing in front of the door as well.

Severus wanted to shout. He wanted to scream, to voice all the anger and hatred and desperation that was boiling inside him. But in the end he knew that it didnít matter, that he could shout his throat dry and nobody would ever hear. He knew that just as well as he knew that the werewolf had been right.

There was no more telling Remus from the wolf, if there ever had been. The wolf was Remus. Remus was the wolf.

Now Severus screamed, not in physical pain but in a horrible, endless pain that comes from a broken heart -- a heart he hadnít even known he possessed before it had been broken by a pair of fine, delicate hands. A pair of wonderful hands that had fallen to evil deeds.

And he screamed still.




A/N: Oh, my... That was frighteningly _pleasant_ to write. Seemingly I enjoy the thought of the not-so-nice Remus more than I let out to even myself.

Oh, and I wonít accept reviews like "You horrible bastard bitch you should die a very painful death for making my beloved Remmie so evil" and so on. I warned you. Itís your own fault if you donít read Author notes, there are sometimes some very important points in those. I like Remus myself, too; I only wrote this tiny ficlet to see whether I could make him appear even the slightest bit evil, at least believably so.