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The Flayed Toad was a pitiful excuse for a pub- the air was thick with smoke, the rough stone floors sticky with stale beer, and the stench of unwashed drunkards hung in the air. But it was also exactly the place they needed to be for their mission. The perfect place for Death Eater sympathizers to meet without drawing attention, a breeding ground for whispered schemes and loose tongues.
Sirius leaned against the bar with an air of boredom, while every nerve in his body was on edge, calculating and ready to react. A weak fire in the dusty hearth barely illuminated the grimy faces of the regulars, hunched over their tankards of ale. Sirius’ sharp grey eyes briefly flicked toward a shadowed corner where Remus sat, his watchful gaze silently urging Sirius to be careful.
They’d done this sort of mission before- carefully planned, yet wildly unpredictable. They knew the risks, but Remus couldn’t shake the churning unease in his stomach as their target approached.
The burly man who slid onto the barstool beside Sirius was as large as he was unpleasant, bulking shoulders stretching his patched coat tight at the seams. His massive hands- one gloved, its knuckles reinforced with glinting metal studs- rested heavily on the bar. A dark tattoo of a skull and snake peeked out from under his grimy sleeve, confirming their suspicions.
“You’re too pretty to be drinking here alone,” the man drawled, voice low and gravelly, an unsettling grin stretching across his scarred face. The look of a thug who’d done violence- and enjoyed it.
His stale alcoholic breath made Sirius’ skin crawl, but he didn’t flinch.
“And you’re too drunk to be talking to me,” Sirius retorted smoothly. “Why don’t you go back and chat with your usual mates? Or better yet, tell me why you’re here?” His tone was light, but his hand hovered near his wand.
The man laughed, an ominous rather than amused sound. He leaned closer, his broad frame practically towering over Sirius, who didn’t budge. “What’s your name, pretty boy?”
Sirius had handled creeps before and wasn’t easily intimidated. He raised an eyebrow and looked the man straight in the eye. “You first.”
His grin widened, revealing swollen gums and yellowed teeth, though his eyes retained their predatory glint. “I think I’ll just call you ‘mine’.”
Remus’ knuckles whitened around his glass of Firewhisky. He didn’t need to hear the words to know something was wrong, the tension in Sirius’ jaw and his unnaturally still posture said it all. Quietly, Remus’ hand slipped to his wand beneath the table, though he didn’t draw it. Not yet. Drawing attention would blow their cover. He’d been listening to the conversation at the table next to him, where a Death Eater was trying to lure a werewolf to join Voldemort’s side. Neither of them could afford to ruin the mission now. The urge to jump up and intervene was almost unbearable, but he’d have to wait for Sirius’ signal if he really got in trouble.
“Come on now,” the man said, his horrible grin widening. “No need to be shy.”
He reached out, his gloved hand sliding across Sirius’ shoulder. Sirius flinched- just barely- but enough that the man noticed. His smirk turned cruel.
“Get your hand off me,” Sirius growled, grabbing his wand.
The man didn’t listen. Instead, his hand clamped down on Sirius’ arm, hard enough to bruise, and his wand clattered to the floor. Before Sirius could react, he was yanked forward and slammed against the edge of the bar. The impact knocked the wind out of him, but he swiftly drove his knee into the man’s gut.
While the stranger stumbled, clutching his stomach, Sirius snatched his wand from the filthy floor, a hex already forming in his mind.
The man was faster.
His gloved fist crashed into Sirius’ abdomen, the metal studs ripping through fabric and skin. Sirius gasped and doubled over, the pain blinding for a moment. Before he could recover, the man grabbed his wrist and forcefully wrenched it backwards with a sickening snap. Sirius gasped in pain, his wand slipping from his fingers again.
“Thought you’d be more of a fight,” the man sneered, pulling a glistening knife from his tattered coat. “Shame. You’re still pretty, though. Maybe I’ll-“
“Move, and I’ll kill you.”
The man froze as Remus stepped forward, wand raised, expression hard as steel. His brown eyes burned with fury, though his voice was deathly calm.
The man growled at Remus, weighing his options, but Remus didn’t give him a chance to decide. “Stupefy,” he snapped, and the man flew backward, crashing into a table. Chaos erupted. Wizards shouted and drew their wands, foamy ale spilling over the tables and onto the sticky floor.
Remus grabbed Sirius by the shoulder, hauling him close as curses started flying. “Side-along, now,” he hissed.
“Remus, the mission-“
“Not a bloody word,” Remus snapped. He gripped Sirius tightly, and with a loud crack, they Disapparated.
***
They Apparated in a dim safe house, Sirius immediately stumbling to his knees on the pine floorboards. Blood had seeped through his shirt, his broken wrist hanging awkwardly at his side. Remus crouched beside him, a grim look on his face, still gripping his wand as if expecting another attack.
“Let me see,” Remus demanded, voice tight with worry. He reached for Sirius’ shirt, but Sirius jerked back.
“I’m fine,” Sirius snapped, wincing as he tried to push himself upright.
“Fine?!” Remus barked, his composure cracking. “You’re bleeding everywhere, your wrist looks like it’s fucking broken, and you’re telling me you’re fine?”
“Don’t shout at me,” Sirius glared despite the pallor in his face. “You think I asked for this to happen?”
“You didn’t signal me!” Remus shot back, trembling as he shoved Sirius’ hands out of the way and pulled his shirt up anyway, revealing several jagged gashes and angry bruises along his stomach. His wand hovered over the wounds, but he hesitated. “You should’ve let me step in sooner.”
“Oh sure, because that would’ve saved the mission,” Sirius growled, wincing as Remus muttered an incantation, the edges of the wounds knitting together but still raw.
“At least you wouldn’t have ended up like this!” Remus snarled. “You’re too bloody reckless, Sirius, you always have been. You think you’re invincible and it gets you hurt- every damn time!”
“So I should’ve waited for you to come save me? Sit there and let that bastard take advantage of me?”
“You were supposed to trust me!” Remus interrupted, his voice cracking. “You were supposed to signal me if things got out of hand! Do you have any idea what it was like for me, watching that bastard with you-“ He stopped, breathing deeply.
For a short while, the only sound in the room was Sirius’ labored breathing. “I couldn’t blow the mission, Moony. You know what’s at risk- they’re looking for James, Lily and Harry-“
“And I couldn’t risk you,” Remus retorted, his voice low and trembling with barely disguised emotion. He squeezed his brow, composing himself, and turned his focus to Sirius’ crooked, swollen wrist. “Hold still.”
Sirius sharply sucked in a breath as Remus muttered another spell, bandages whirling out of the tip of his wand and creating a makeshift splint. It was crude but functional- Remus didn’t dare to use a more complex healing spell while he was still so on edge.
“You alright?” Sirius asked, his voice softer now that his anger and adrenaline were ebbing away.
Remus didn’t answer immediately. He stood, bloodied fingers tightly gripping his wand. He sighed deeply and went to draw the checkered curtains closed. Finally, he looked back at Sirius, his shoulders slumping. “You scared me,” he admitted quietly. “And not for the first time.”
Sirius looked away, guilt sinking to his stomach. “I’m sorry, Moony.”
Remus sighed, running a hand through his tangled hair. “Just… Don’t let it escalate next time.”
“Alright,” Sirius said finally, “But not a word to James about this. And you’re healing me properly and without fuss when we get back home.” He leaned back against the couch with a pained grimace.
“Deal. And you’re buying me a bottle of Firewhisky after.”
Sirius snorted softly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Deal.”