Frigus . Sirius Black (Mortem BOOK 2)

chapter eighty-nine

a/n: it's late, it's late, i know, but i re-wrote this 5 times in its entirety because i really wanted to nail it, also, please accept the fact that it's 5k words as my personal apology 

April 6th, 1981 - Auror Office 

Sirius was exhausted, to put it simply. It was about 10 at night, and he had been working non-stop since the early hours of that morning when he had been called to aid against an attack in a wizarding village.

He hadn't arrived in time. Eleven dead, a total of four families. They had fled as soon as they saw the Aurors coming in. According to Nephera, they attacked in the middle of the night to tire them out, and it worked perfectly. Sirius had been called into another attack, a smaller-scale one, two or three rogue lower members in Diagon Alley. 

Call it lack of sleep, or morale, or hope, but he had been sloppy, plain and simple. The only reason why he had managed to come out with only a couple of bumps and scratches and capture one of them, was because the imbecile was sloppier than he was. 

And now, he was locked in a dungeon in the Auror wing of the Ministry with said imbecile, shackled to a  chair, "Speak," he ordered, his head hurting, they had already been down there for an hour, and the idiot was refusing to cooperate 

"I would never betray the Cause," spat the Death Eater, "Not like you- how dare you, how dare you-" 

"You idiot!" interrupted Sirius, shouting, "You think they care about you? You think they give a single flying fuck about what happens to you?" a laugh escaped him, "Look at where you are now, mate! Look around you!" 

The Death Eater, a guy probably a few years older than him who he did not recognise, did not speak further. 

"You're in a dungeon, with no one coming to save you, there's not even a window here for fuck's sake," he grabbed the Death Eater's face, "Look at me when I fucking speak to you," he grunted out, "And you know where they are? They're at one of the Manors, having dinner and drinking expensive alcohol, laughing at little people like you," 

"That's not true!" the Death Eater screamed back, "The Dark Lord-" 

"Is playing you like a fucking puppet on a string." he said, "You call me a traitor? I am a Black, I am heir to the House of Black, I am part of the very people you worship, and I can tell you, they're not coming to save you," 

For his entire life, Sirius had tried to distance himself from his family as much as possible. Try to show he wasn't like them, he wasn't cruel like his mother, mad like his cousin, power-hungry like his father... He had truly thought he was nothing like them, until the war, that is. Since the war had started, he was ashamed to admit that he had become every bit the heir of the House of Black his parents had wanted him to be, barring the blood purity, that is.

Every day, interrogating Death Eaters, and fighting with them on the streets, he found more and more of his mother's tactics slipping into his wand-wielding. 

The Death Eater was stumped over that, not that Sirius could blame him. The lines of this war were so obviously drawn between the two sides, the Sacred Twenty-Eight and their puppets on one, and the rest of the wizarding world on the other, that people often forgot where and how he and Nephera grew up. 

They forgot that Nephera and himself were two of the very people that they either worshipped or set out every day to kill.  

That was their first mistake. 

He released his grip on the Death Eater's face, taking a few paces back and shaking his head,  "They don't care about you, you are useless to them, you are willing to give your life up for people who would not think twice about killing you,"