Title: Undone Pairing: Kingsley Shacklebolt/Gideon Prewett with a side of Remus/Sirius Rating: NC-17 Warnings: Dubious consent leaning toward non-con Summary: Sirius Black is captain of a pirate ship, Kingsley Shacklebolt is first mate for Lucius Malfoy. Order members Remus Lupin and Gideon Prewett are pulled into an adventure that ends at the Isla de la Muerta from PotC in an attempt to thwart Malfoy.
It's an HP alternate universe story, set inside PotC thank you, kennahijja (on lj), so don't take this too seriously.
Disclaimer: Situations and characterizations are shamelessly stolen from PotC, as well as JKR. Publishing rights belong to Bloomsbury, Scholastic, Raincoast Books, Warner Bros, Walt Disney Pictures, Jerry Bruckheimer Films and First Mate Productions. I don't own them, and I definitely don't make any profit from them. But I do have a lot of fun.
Many, many thanks to fabu for her beta and suggestions. All mistakes are my own since I kept tweaking it.
Captain Lucius Malfoy was content. A rarity, to be sure, but the crew accepted their luck quietly. He stood on the quarterdeck, wind blowing through his hair while he watched his capable first mate hand out the orders for the day. If it wasn't for the compass that he refused to share with anyone, his first mate would be at the helm. However this compass, which didn't point north, guided him toward treasure. He wasn't willing to let Shacklebolt handle the compass, therefore he guided his own ship.
Instead, he kept Shacklebolt entertained with their latest swag. He snagged a handsome treasure two weeks ago when he sunk the Exchequer heading to Cairo. Included in the loot was a young man with bright red hair. According to the ship's roster, his name was Bill Weasley.
Malfoy had heard of Weasley, but had never met him before finding him battling on the deck when they attacked the Exchequer. He was considered a noteworthy warrior, but more importantly, a curse breaker. He would help Malfoy with the Aztec treasure – in exchange for his life. A fortunate find indeed.
There had been enough perishables aboard the Exchequer to satisfy his crew, and the promise of torture thrilled the carnal natures of his men. Malfoy would have been satisfied with that booty.
However, a second ship had appeared off the port bow that morning, white sails reflected by the full moon just before it gave up the sky to the rising sun. He had given into the requests of his crew, and let them ravage the passengers on the merchant ship. There, in its hold before they sunk it, they had found a gaunt, sick man lurking in the dark.
He had been one of the few people the crew left alive, so Malfoy brought him back to his ship. He had intended to let him heal some, then let the crew kill him for fun. Malfoy, following Crabbe and Goyle into his hold, and had been privy to the look of sheer panic on Weasley's face. He had recognized the sick man. That information alone made it worth Malfoy's energy to keep the second prisoner alive.
Smiling at the memory, Malfoy checked the compass again; confident they were almost to the Isla de la Muerta.
* *
Duties finished for the moment, Kingsley casually made his way to the galley. Malfoy let him care for the original prisoner as long as it wasn't on the captain's time. After finishing his dinner, Kingsley nonchalantly stretched and announced he was off duty the rest of the night. No one except Malfoy would challenge his proclamation.
Kingsley had sworn, upon seeing the pale red hair, blue eyes and masculine body dragged into the hold that no one else would touch him. So far, no one had dared his wrath. It was his job to mete out punishment as well as rewards. Kingsley rarely rewarded a crewmember.
Malfoy had ignored his interest in Weasley so far, assuming Kingsley was toying with the man. Weasley's spirit remained unbroken, though Kingsley, by now, had learned to bend it around his will.
Cock hardening at the thought of spending some time alone with him, Kingsley walked straight to the hold. He made his way inside without a light, the moon was almost full and Kingsley stepped round the sickly man tied up on the near side of the hold.
Weasley looked up at the footsteps, "Oh thank Merlin you're here. What's the lunar phase?"
For a moment, Kingsley felt his heart stutter at the warmth of Weasley's greeting. Then the words, as well as the look of utter terror on his face, settled into his mind.
"Lunar phase?"
"Damn it, Shacklebolt. The moon. Is it full tonight?"
"Nay, that was last night, 'tis waning now. And I understood the term, just not the reason behind it."
"Then we're safe," he sighed, nodding toward the other prisoner.
Kingsley eyed the sallow man that lay on the deck. He was tied from neck to ankle, practically wrapped solid with rope. Hell, Kingsley wouldn't be able to move in those bindings. "Safe? From him? What could that slip of a man do?"
Sighing, the man nodded, "He is an acquaintance of mine. I've known him for some time now."
Kingsley looked at the sad face of his captive, "And you feel honor bound to protect him why?"
"You're a merc, Shacklebolt, paid to run Malfoy's crew. How can you question my honor, when you have none to speak of yourself?"
"Do not speak of honor, Weasley. You know nothing of it." Once upon a time, before joining Malfoy's crew, Kingsley knew of honor. It had been forgotten though during the time he spent on this ship.
"I know nothing of it? How many defenseless men have you killed these last few weeks? How many people have died in your search for Cortez's treasure?"
"None that you care for, you told me that yourself last week."
"Shacklebolt, you're a talented wizard, I've watched you. You could be so much more, if you only walked away from this. Choose another way."
Kingsley laughed, mocking him, "Easy words for a pureblood, a man of money and education. You've lived a life I know nothing about."
"My family is not rich. What I've made, I made for myself. We are considered eccentric among the elite, only barely tolerable as purebloods. We are not like the Malfoys of society, piranha that eat away everything good until only their twisted version is left."
"I see what you are doing, Weasley, you try and give hope where none is. You would never accept me outside of these bonds."
"And you will never know if you do not try."
"But why should I? When I have everything I want at my fingertips?"
"Forcing yourself upon me isn't truth."
Kingsley laughed sharply, "Who speaks of force? You've begged for it each time."
Weasley's face changed to a bright shade of red, hiding with the faint dusting of freckles across his nose and cheekbones. Two nights ago, Kingsley had excited him to such a degree that he left Weasley begging. It was a pleasant memory for Kingsley and he ignored the twinge of guilt that Weasley's words caused.
Thinking about that was enough to make Kingsley want to end the pointless conversation. Dropping his wand out of the reach, he pulled Weasley up by the shreds of shirt he still wore. Pushing him against the wall, spreading his arms and holding them against the chains that bound him, Kingsley leaned in slowly, inhaling his scent.
* *
He turned his head away; it had been the same for the past week now. At first, Malfoy had sent his first mate down to intimidate him, and it had worked for the first few days. He kept a tight pretense that he was Bill Weasley, afraid they would kill him if they realized he wasn't.
His nephew had been sick the day the Exchequer left port for Cairo, so Gideon had taken his place, a last-minute decision for a much-needed vacation. Being captured by pirates was not the adventure he expected to find.
After Gideon endured a week of endless questioning, Shacklebolt, frustrated with not getting any more information, leaned in and kissed him, threatening so much more with his lips. To Gideon's eternal shock, he could barely breathe, more excited than revolted by it. As Shacklebolt realized it hadn't worked, he pulled back, hands cupping his jawbone to look at him.
Gideon had initiated the second kiss. He had softly licked Shacklebolt's lips, inviting a bit of tenderness, and Shacklebolt had responded similarly, gently pushing him against the wall, covering his body, devouring it with nips from teeth followed by gentle licks from his tongue.
Within moments, they were thrusting against each other, pelvises twisting for friction. Gideon had wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Kingsley, but the chains that bound his wrists weren't long enough. The manacles tied to his wrists ran through a pulley on the wall above and to the sides of his head. He could pull his hands even with his shoulders, but no further across his chest or down.
It had made for some awkward sex that night, with Gideon forced to hang onto his own chains for balance. However, it hadn't stopped them that time. Or the time that followed. Kingsley had unchained him to eat, to use the chamber pot, even to clean himself a few times with a bucket of seawater and a dingy rag. But Shacklebolt refused to leave him free.
A smart enough man to admit his own faults, Gideon knew he was in trouble the moment he had begun looking forward to evening and Shacklebolts' visits. Nothing good could come from this, though Gideon refused to give up completely.
Shacklebolt laughed softly, making him open his eyes and concentrate on the present.
"Pointless conversation, anyway," Shacklebolt muttered into Gideon's neck, licking the exposed collarbone. Gideon arched his back away from the wall, waiting for more. Kingsley quickly shed Gideon's breeches, fumbling with his cock for a moment; then Kingsley braced himself against the wall, arms spread wide. Hanging onto Kingsley's forearms, Gideon hoisted his legs up and around Shacklebolt. He was sore, and dirty from two weeks in the hold without a proper bath, but he willingly gave himself. Shacklebolt, the damn bastard, was correct on that account. As Shacklebolt slowly slid inside, he groaned appreciatively. At least Shacklebolt had found something to ease the passage this time.
* *
Kingsley groaned as he thrust inside one last time, spilling inside Weasley as his muscular legs tightened around him. It scared Kingsley to think about how much he wanted this.
Kingsley, shaken by his desire to murmur endearments while kissing him, realized this obsession had to end. He unwrapped his hand from around Weasley's cock, leaving him hard, and shoved his legs to the ground. If he continued, Malfoy would kill Weasley, whether he needed him or not.
He watched Weasley – freckles starting to fade from lack of sunlight and covered with sweat from their recent activities – take a deep breath and lean back, body shaking with need.
If Kingsley continued to spend time with Weasley, if he continued to pursue the feelings the man brought out in him, Malfoy would kill him. Kingsley knew it as sure as he knew his name. And then Malfoy would kill Kingsley.
He wasn't ready to die, no matter how good the sex was. Glancing up, he could see the lust dying in the blue eyes watching him. Unwilling to answer the questions, Kingsley tucked himself back into his breeches, and stumbled out of the hold.
"Sail ho," rang out a strident voice as he climbed out of the hold. Phrases such as that quickly burned the feelings away, leaving room only for anger. And anger was far better than what he had felt below deck. Anger he could channel into his ship.
Kingsley sent the nearest crewmember to rouse the captain while he took the rungs two by two to reach the helm. Calling out to run up the sails, two wizards scurried up the rigging. Any wizard worth his salt could cast a spell to see the approaching vessel. It would only be moments before Kingsley knew who was there.
* *
Gringotts must be desperate, Sirius decided. They were rather vague about the location of their curse breaker, but not so vague on the importance of finding him – and how many Galleons they were willing to spend to have him back. Returning the curse breaker alive to England was worth going home. Somewhere he hadn't been for fifteen years.
They'd owled him that the Exchequer was under attack in the North Sea, which could only mean one thing – the French. For a chance at striking those bastards, Sirius would willingly forgo the reward. However, that would make him a privateer, and not a pirate.
Moreover, what better reason to strike at the French than to hope that the Exchequer had been attacked by the very man he sought. Lucius Malfoy.
Three years in jail was enough to drive a man insane. Hell, Azkaban usually drove its prisoners insane in months. But survive it Sirius Black had, and for one reason only - revenge.
Malfoy would pay for killing everything Sirius ever cared about, the bastard would pay with his life. It was only fair - after all, his family, his love and his best friend all died under Malfoy's wand.
His only advantage was that Malfoy assumed Sirius dead as well. And Sirius, normally an impatient man, had spent much of that time plotting retribution. He even spent a year acquiring a crew and training them. He stayed away from English and French shores until he was confident of his crew's skills, envisioning each night what fear would look like in Malfoy's eyes.
He dreamed of Avada Kedavra.
For the last several months he'd chased Malfoy with a vengeance, usually reaching the last reported site long after Malfoy and his crew of miscreants had departed. But Sirius had hope this time, a tingling in his bones signified change was coming.
After three years locked in a cell that Padfoot could cross in two steps, Sirius welcomed change. If he could escape from Azkaban, he was confident that the winds of change had finally begun to blow his way. It was time to make Malfoy pay.
* *
Shaking with need, he closed his eyes. He needed off this ship - he needed away from the devil that stole his soul. Soon they would begin to use Lupin against him. He was sure Kingsley knew he wouldn’t give up any further information. His usefulness was almost over.
"Lupin?" he whispered, "Remus?"
Struggling with the ropes that bound him, he slowly rolled over, opening bright brown eyes. "Do I know you?" he asked.
"Weasley, Bill Weasley. You know me from the Order."
"You don't look like Bill."
"I believe you've been hit over the head, there's dried blood in your hair."
"Can you free yourself?" Remus asked.
He shook his head, "Can't do wandless magic, I'm afraid." Positive he was a sight between bloody scratches across his chest and the torn clothing, he blushed. He hoped the hold didn't smell of sex, but there was little chance that Lupin had missed the exchange between himself and Shacklebolt.
"What do you expect me to do?" Lupin asked, rolling his shoulders a little inside the ropes.
"Nothing, we can't do anything. Yet. I just wanted to make sure you're all right."
* *
Sirius was confident of his crew; he pulled his first mate, Podmore, into the great cabin to finalize their plans.
"Take whatever you find that you want for swag. I have to find one man, he should be a prisoner, answers to Weasley."
"I know 'em, all redheads and freckles. Which one?"
"The oldest son, Bill."
Podmore nodded, "I'll distract them as I can, captain."
"You're a good man, Podmore. Thank you."
With nothing to do but wait, Sirius stayed at the helm reciting spells, preparing himself. His ship, the Marauder, was fast, probably the fastest on the seven seas. Malfoy didn't stand a chance as she lurched forward, the wind catching her full sails.
They had maybe an hour before they overtook Malfoy and his brigands.
* *
"Stun them," Malfoy said, "and hide them."
Nodding sharply, Kingsley pulled his wand from the waist of his breeches and slid down the ladder to the hold. It was the first time he'd heard fear in his captain's voice. Kingsley didn't know all the history, but he knew enough to realize Malfoy and Black had a grudge against each other. This attack from Black wasn't simply about the prisoners in the hold, or the treasure. It was something personal.
Weasley was leaning against the wall, head lolling to the side as he slept while Lupin was squirming across the deck.
"What's your problem?" Kingsley asked, prodding him with his foot.
"Need to pee," he answered, his voice muffled.
Sighing, Kingsley sheathed his wand and rolled him over toward the chamber pot.
"My hands would help," Lupin said.
"No such luck," Kingsley said, loosening his breeches for him and, frowning, bent him around for a better direction. The things he had to take care of for prisoners.
"I hope Weasley doesn’t wake up and see this," Lupin said, humor evident in his voice.
"Nothing I haven't done for him either."
"I can think of a few things I've already witnessed I expect doesn't go with the territory, Shacklebolt."
Instead of responding that what he did with Weasley was no one's business, Kingsley rewrapped his ropes – tight – and rolled him into a corner behind the barrels of grog.
Holding a still-sleeping Weasley with one arm, he used his wand to unlock the manacles and transferred him across his chest to undo the other side. Something wasn't quite right in the way that Weasley's head lolled about and concerned, Kingsley shook his jaw, trying to wake him.
"Weasley?" he said, shaking him again.
"Bill!" he said sharply, slapping his face.
"Gideon," he muttered before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he passed out.
He heard Lupin's muffled laughter and wished he was close enough to kick the git for good measure. Dropping a blanket over Lupin, he gently set Weasley down on top of him, wondering who the hell Gideon was.
* *
Overtaking Malfoy's ship as night fell, Sirius and his crew attacked with finesse and careful planning. As Podmore and two others kept Malfoy busy, Sirius snuck into the hold and found an unconscious man sprawled in a corner.
Carefully picking him up, Sirius hastened back to the Marauder with his treasure. Holding Malfoy's crew back with wands and the ship's cannons, Sirius dropped Weasley on the deck and waited for Podmore and the crew to return.
With one magically aimed blow from the cannon, they shredded the main mast on Malfoy's ship as the Marauder escaped with their precious Gringotts treasure. It was strange to think of the man on his deck – almost Sirius' age – as treasure. However, his rescue meant several Galleons to Sirius, and that was what the crew wanted.
Releasing the owl the goblins gave him, Sirius picked up the unconscious man and carried him to his cabin, settling him in a hammock. He was warm to the touch and Sirius, worried, called in the healer to look at him.
"It's nothing some water and food won't heal," Bones said finally. "He's worn out and malnourished, from the looks of his wrists he's been constantly chained the past two weeks. There's a few bruises on his shoulders and hips that look like teeth or finger prints, I questioned him about any personal abuse, but Weasley swore it's not so.
"He should heal quickly."
"Thanks, Edgar," Sirius mumbled, taking a swig of rum as he ushered the healer out of his cabin.
The following morning, Podmore knocked on the cabin door, bringing in a tray of food for Sirius and Weasley.
"Captain?" he said, setting it down and moving the blanket that covered Weasley, "How's our swag doing?"
"See for yourself," Sirius said, yawning, "I'm sure he's starving, Bones said he seemed underfed."
"I’m sure Malfoy's bastards didn't treat him…. Er, Captain?"
"Yeah?"
"This isn't Bill Weasley."
"What do you mean?"
"He looks like a Weasley, with the red hair and freckles and all, but this isn't Bill."
The man on the hammock opened his blue eyes, looking confused, "Where am I?" he said, slurring his words. Podmore handed him a container filled with grog and Weasley – or whoever it was – took a deep sip and choked on it before swallowing.
"Who are you?" Sirius demanded, suddenly nervous, thinking he rescued the wrong man from Malfoy's ship.
"Bill was sick, couldn’t take the vacation. I went instead of him."
"Are you his brother?" Sirius asked.
"Where am I?"
"Aboard the Marauder, a privately owned ship rescuing you for Gringotts. I’m the first mate and this is Captain Sirius Black. Where's Bill Weasley?" Podmore said.
"Home in England, I'd assume. I'm his uncle. Name's Gideon Prewett. "
Sirius held up one hand, forgoing Podmore from speaking any more. He already knew how his crew would react once they learned the truth. Gringotts wouldn't pay for Weasley's uncle once they learned that their employee was safe in England.
"Podmore, not a word of this leaves this room, understand?"
"Aye, Captain," he said, escaping quickly.
Shoving the food toward him, Sirius sat in a chair, bare feet propped on the edge of the table.
"What's wrong?" Weasley – Prewett – asked.
"Gringotts hired me to rescue their kidnapped curse breaker. Not his uncle."
"They'll never pay for me," Prewett said, nodding in agreement.
"Oh bugger," Sirius mumbled.
Gideon sat bolt upright, "What about Lupin? Where is he?"
"Lupin?" Sirius asked, "Lupin who?"
"Remus Lupin, he was in the hold with me."
Gideon had never seen someone's face transform so quickly with so many expressions.
"Tell me everything," Black demanded.
Relating what happened, and how he was positive – really - that is had been Remus Lupin in the hold with him, Gideon realized he was very confused as Captain Black began pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath.
"This will work," he said, turning back around to Gideon.
"What will work?"
"I'll tell them that there's more treasure to be had if we reach the island. Then we can chase Malfoy down and get Lupin off that damn ship."
Confused, but unwilling to tell him that, Gideon simply said, "Okay."
"Well, you don't expect me to leave Remus there, do you?"
"Of course not," Gideon began, then bit his tongue. It suddenly made sense - the captain had to know Lupin. Instead of returning to England, they would chase Malfoy. "How do you know him?"
"I've… worked with him before," Black said without looking at Gideon. Narrowing his eyes, Gideon knew an evasion when he saw one, he opted to accept the captain at his word. Who was he to question Black?
* *
Kingsley had three crewmembers mending the sails. He'd already ordered the damaged lines replaced and magically braced the mainmast at first light. Malfoy hadn't emerged from his cabin yet, but the men were already fearful. Kingsley liked it, fear made them work faster.
He purposely didn't consider his actions once he regained consciousness and made it to the hold. Lupin lived still, but Weasley was gone. Malfoy had been convinced that Sirius Black led the attack and Shacklebolt, who had never met the man, didn't contradict him.
It was possible that someone paid very well to have the curse breaker rescued, which meant Gringotts.
Malfoy would be in a foul mood.
He removed the ropes and put Lupin in the manacles that Weasley had escaped. Kingsley cast Silencio as soon as Lupin asked, with a smirk, whether or not he was expected to fill the rest of Weasley's role as well.
* *
Repairs on the Marauder took the entire morning. Gideon sat on the bowsprit, staying well out of the way as he watched, fascinated with the magic and skills involved with running the ship. Black and Podmore made a good team, and the crew seemed content. unlike Malfoy's ship who were ruled by fear.
Biting into a hard piece of something – Black had called it food – Gideon jumped when he heard a popping noise and someone Apparated next to him. He looked up to see a slightly younger version of himself, with more freckles, longer hair and a dragon tooth earring.
"Hello, uncle," he said as Gideon squinted his eyes at him.
"You must be the real Bill Weasley." Black said as he approached and waved at the dagger Bill held in his hand, "Using a portkey to get here wasn't very savvy."
Bill stuck a hand out, "I understand you rescued my uncle. Our thanks for that." Bill dropped the dagger into Gideon's lap, who scooped it up and tucked it into the top of his breeches.
"Didn't need rescued," Gideon muttered under his breath, "I wasn't in any real danger."
Both men laughed at him. Damn, Gideon hated wizards.
"Only of death once they learned the truth," Bill said. "I’m sorry, uncle, for doing that to you."
"It wasn't any worse than my real job," Gideon said, shrugging his shoulders. "Besides, you're my nephew, you shouldn't have to be in danger."
"Good man," Black said, nodding toward Gideon.
"Why are we chasing them again?" Bill asked Black.
"I have to pay my crew somehow, and there's treasure on that island."
"Cursed treasure."
"Not planning on touching the cursed bits, mate. Just the rest of the swag."
"All right," Bill said, frowning as if he didn't believe him.
"And Lupin," Gideon said, hiding a smile, "We have to rescue Lupin."
"Definitely, I can't leave Remus with Malfoy."
"How do you know him again?" Gideon asked, casually brushing Bill's arm, telling him to pay attention.
"He's an innkeeper, I stayed there often."
"I had the impression you've been in Azkaban, Sirius, not hiding out in an inn."
"It was a long time ago, Bill."
"Azkaban?" Gideon asked.
Black laughed hard enough to lose his breath, "How can you not know about Azkaban, Prewett?"
Bill shook his head, changing the conversation, "I've met Lupin before, but it's been a long time. Remind me again?"
Sirius smiled, glancing up at the sails, staring off into memory. "He's a bit shorter than myself and thin as the mizzenmast. He has plain brown hair that's hard to remember, and sharp, brown eyes that are hard to forget. He's an innkeeper, so he looks off balance with empty arms. I haven't seen 'im for a few years, but I don't imagine he's changed much."
Bill didn't say anything, but exchanged a significant glance with Gideon.
"What do I need to do, Bill?" Gideon asked when it became obvious that Black was lost in his thoughts.
"Trade Lupin for me," Bill said easily.
"Not you - Prewett," Black said.
"They'll kill him," Bill said, shaking his head.
"Not right away, and I may have some help in that quarter," Gideon said, refusing to explain when Black questioned him further.
Black nodded, "We need you, Bill, you're the only chance we have at fooling them. Give your uncle what he needs to stall Malfoy and we're figure out a way to rescue him."
"I need a wand," Gideon said.
"Why?" Bill asked as Black nodded, "I've some below. Did you lose yours?"
Gideon grinned, but didn't answer.
* *
Kingsley was in a foul mood. Malfoy had been furious to lose the curse breaker and damn near found an excuse to flog Kingsley for it. He had barely escaped, thankfully Malfoy took his anger out on the poor fool that let the Marauder approach without fair warning.
Irritated, Kingsley spent his free time overseeing the few minor repairs left. He wasn't thinking about Weasley, or his sudden abstinence now that Weasley was gone.
He'd stolen the manuscripts that talked about the cursed treasure years ago, and it was a total coincidence that he had overheard Malfoy one day discussing pirating and ways to rule the sea. What better way than not dying to rule the ocean?
Kingsley had discovered that the Blacks had the compass, and Malfoy, already married to Narcissa, easily found it. Malfoy had told Kingsley one drunken night that it hadn't taken long to kill her and blame Sirius Black. It must have worked well, Kingsley thought, Sirius Black had been sent to Azkaban for murder while Malfoy was still free.
There had been rumors almost two years ago concerning Black. First that he escaped, then that he died. Kingsley had heard them and had given them no credence. No one escaped from Azkaban.
Today, he was questioning that idea. Malfoy was convinced that Black himself had led that raid. Kingsley didn't know, but Malfoy was worried, and that had never happened before. If it were true, then Black would chase them to the end of the world and back. They would never be free.
"Shacklebolt!" Malfoy yelled, sending Kingsley skittering for the helm. "Why are they back?" he asked, handing him the spyglass.
Black's ship – if indeed it was Black – was in the horizon again. "Maybe for the other bloke in the hold?" he asked, gesturing toward the hold.
"It has to be," Malfoy said. "Guard him well, and don't give him up."
Obviously, Kingsley thought. They had plenty of time before they were caught, and knowing Malfoy, he'd cast a spell or two to increase their speed. Malfoy pointed toward the hold, "Step lively, Shacklebolt."
For the first time in months, he had nothing to do but watch a prisoner. Remus opened his eyes as Kingsley settled on the floor in front of him.
"You could loosen my chains, you know, I'd love to sit."
Kingsley just looked at him, but didn't speak. Weasley had been terrified that first night, demanding to know what the lunar phase was, and Kingsley frowned as he watched Lupin.
He squinted, looking closely at his arms and realized that several of the deep scratches had faded. Frowning in thought, he stood up and moved closer. Lupin, eyes widening as he watched him, shook his arms about, making it hard for Kingsley to study them.
Muttering under his breath, Kingsley grabbed one of the manacles and held it still. There, beneath the steel cuff, were faded marks. As he looked closer, he saw several other bite marks, all old with age and faded, barely showing against his pallid skin.
"You're a damn werewolf!" he said, whipping his wand out and pointing it toward Lupin's neck. Kingsley gave him credit; he didn't whine or beg, he only pursed his lips and frowned at him, as if Lupin wasn't a breath away from dying. "So I am, but you can't kill me."
"Give me a one good reason why."
Lupin looked around, "Are we safe down here?"
"I'm safe enough from the likes of you," Kingsley said with a sneer.
"Not me, from your captain."
Sighing, Kingsley cast a quick spell on the hold, cutting off all noise from the outside. "All right, explain yourself."
Remus nodded, "Because I'm the only one who knows the truth."
"What truth?"
"The truth of who you are," he whispered, leaning closer. "The truth of why you work for Lucius Malfoy."
With a furious roar, Kingsley grabbed him by the neck and shoved him against the wall. "You know nothing about who I am, worm. Nothing." Remus didn't struggle in his grip, he calmly watched Kingsley until he let him go and stepped back.
"Who do you think sent you on this mission? If you kill me, you'll die Malfoy's man."
"I am no traitor."
Remus nodded, "I know you are not. I only tell you this to make sure you protect me. It's vital I live – that you live."
Kingsley considered the truth of his words; no one really knew why he was there. It had been a very secretive mission that he'd been assigned years ago. Lupin could speak the truth, and Kingsley always assumed Dumbledore himself asked him to take this mission. He had told Kingsley that day that no one else would know. Killing Lupin, who obviously knew, would be a mistake.
"Very well, I agree."
* *
"Are you sure about this, uncle?"
Gideon nodded, "You need to be free, this curse needs broken, and I'm expendable. I'm sure."
"You're my family, Gideon, you're not expendable."
"All will be well, Bill. I can feel it in my bones."
"Are you suddenly a seer to know such things?" Bill asked, his laughter terrible.
"Don't fret, Bill, I'll be fine."
"Just tell me what to do, how to act until you arrive, that's all I need."
"I don't know."
"What do you usually do when investigating a curse?"
"Wave my wand, mutter, pace a little, cast a few spells…"
Gideon put a hand on his shoulder, "That's all I needed to know, thank you."