Note: Yay, A-levels are over, I'm back among the writing. I was a bit surprised that you all liked Hermione's appearance in the last chapter, I thought it was a bit deus ex machina. Well, then you'll probably believe the bit of wandless magic that Regulus performs in this chapter, too...
Thanks to my beta, rambkowalczyk!
12 Legilimency
Confused and frustrated, Remus left the bathroom and their obnoxious prisoner to get a few moments of rest. He also decided to look for Snape, who had not yet come back. Of course confronting an angry Snape conflicted with his wish for rest, but he had to have priorities.
He couldn’t afford to make a mistake now, so to be one hundred percent certain that Regulus could not escape, he Stunned him before he left.
Snape wasn’t in the drawing room, nor was he in the kitchen. On the little square kitchen table where they had eaten breakfast he had set up a small potions lab, with a miniature glass cauldron. But the Potions Master himself was nowhere to be seen.
Remus started to make tea, the Muggle way, because the slow boiling and the measuring of the tea-leaves with a spoon was far more comforting and calming that just conjuring a cup of ready made tea. The kettle was just beginning to whistle when Snape entered the kitchen, his black robes covered in grey dust and cobwebs. He was carrying an old carton and several small wooden boxes, each about the size of a shoebox. He put them on the table in a wave of stale dust.
“What are these?” Remus asked in surprise.
“Some of Dumbledore’s old stacks. He had been an alchemist’s apprentice for years, he would keep some of these things at home,” Snape said. His voice didn’t betray any of his earlier aggression. In fact it was even and neutral.
He started to unpack the boxes and soon the table was littered with vials and tiny pill boxes, dried substances and sleazy liquids that Remus didn’t recognise. Snape seemed to be satisfied, though.
“I found them in the attic.”
“Well, I doubt if he’ll complain about you borrowing them. What are you brewing? Veritaserum?”
Snape grimaced disdainfully. “Veritaserum takes a full moon cycle to mature, as you should well know. A simpler Truth Serum will have to do.”
“I don’t know,” Remus said, wrapping his cold fingers around the teacup. “Maybe I should just have let you done whatever it was you wanted to do... I could have left the room, you know. No one would have asked about it. No one would have even cared, except for me.”
Snape didn’t answer him for quite a while. He worked on the potion with an expression of concentration, devoting his full attention to the Truth Serum. When he left it to boil, he turned around and carefully washed his hands in the sink.
“I’d say he doesn’t deserve your mercy, Lupin, but I’m not an expert in these things,” Snape said, scrubbing his fingers vigorously. Remus couldn’t tell if the other man was being sarcastic or serious.
“He probably doesn’t deserve it,” Remus admitted. But as he said it, he realised that he didn’t feel that way. There was something about their enemy that made him pity the man. He had tried to suppress these feelings, as he suspected that he only felt that way because the man resembled Sirius so much. But he couldn’t help it. While he hated the things Regulus had done, he felt pity for him.
Snape turned off the water and started to dry his hands, taking more time than necessary. His voice still had that strangely even tone. “Would I deserve mercy, were I a captive?”
Remus looked up in surprise. In all the time they had spent together, be it in Azkaban or the Order, Snape had never said anything that even hinted at guilt. Bitterness, or maybe something akin to regret... but never guilt. He turned around and Remus could now see his face. Despite his even voice, Snape’s expression was hard and remote. Remus tried to say something. He wanted to say ‘yes, you deserve it’, but he hesitated and the other man answered for him, his tone as harsh as his face.
“I do not expect mercy, though. Only fools and innocents expect mercy and only those can show mercy.”
Snape moved swiftly over to the table and resumed his brewing. He stirred the clear liquid in the glass cauldron. Acid steams rose from it. “This will take 12 hours. If it doesn’t work, we’ll resort to other methods.”
++++
Remus returned to the bathroom. He should have taken a book with him, he thought, as he settled down on the small chair. Regulus, still Stunned, lay limply in the bathtub. His head lolled against his chest and Remus barely saw his face. Strangely now, he didn’t resemble Sirius. After Azkaban, Sirius had always been tense, always nervous, always on the verge of slipping into a darker, more dangerous mood... Sirius had been unstable and intense, hurt and hurtful when he didn’t keep himself in check for the sake of the kids.
This explained why Regulus now resembled Sirius so much more when he was awake. It was the tension, the instability, the intensity. Remus found himself longing to talk to the man some more. He had his hand already on his wand. This isn’t Sirius, he told himself. He isn’t at all like Sirius. But he still wanted to talk with him.
“Enervate.”
Instantly, Regulus’ head jerked up. He hit the wall behind him and winced, unable to rub the bruise as his hands remained shackled.
“What’s this, Lupin?” he muttered. “Subtle torture? Another round of question the captive? You know, you’re supposed to respect my dignity. I don’t think that includes Stunning me whenever you don’t need me...”.
“Snape is brewing Truth Serum. Soon enough you will tell us how to wake Dumbledore.” Remus willed his voice to sound hard and cool.
“Why doesn’t he try Legilimency if he’s so good at it?” Regulus snapped.
Remus frowned. “Who told you that Snape is a Legilimens?” It wasn’t common knowledge; at least it hadn’t been so far. Of course, Lord Voldemort might have guessed if he had access to Harry’s mind, but Remus severely doubted that Dumbledore would have risked exposing Snape that way.
“How do you know I’m not one myself?” Regulus he asked in a cocky voice.
“I don’t think so. So, how do you know?”
“Dumbledore told me. Just wouldn’t shut up about it. Snape is a Legilimens! Snape is an Occlumens! He can lie to the Dark Lord and nobody notices, isn’t that great? He’s so clever, too, such a great spy...” the younger man ranted. He seemed to hate Snape with a vicious passion. “But he’s not that great, is he? Can’t get into my mind now, the master spy!”
Remus nodded calmly. “Why can’t he?”
“My mind belongs to the Dark Lord,” Regulus replied cryptically. Remus realised that his questions had hit another wall. He fell silent, not knowing how to proceed.
The minutes passed by in excruciating silence. It was clammy and cold in the little bathroom and Remus counted the hours they’d already lost. It was past six now and in another ten hours they would perhaps learn how to wake Dumbledore up.
He got up and directed his wand at the man in the bathtub. Regulus returned his look impassively. His eyes were blank and emotionless, no more human than the eyes of a corpse. Remus Stunned him, wondering why he hadn’t let Snape use the Cruciatus Curse. Did it really matter how they forced him to talk whether by potions or by using the Unforgivables?
He left the room and joined Snape in the kitchen. The potion was brewing quietly in the glass cauldron. It had the rusty-red colour of dried blood. A bowl of black rooster feathers stood next to it, smelling of dead chickens.
“Well?” asked Snape, who sat at the table, watching the potion.
“Nothing.” Remus leaned against the cold stove. “He’s insane, if you ask me. Stark raving mad.”
Snape raised his brows at him but didn’t answer. The kitchen was gloomy and dark except for the bluish flame under the cauldron. It was as if Snape had brought the Slytherin dungeons with him to this place.
“Couldn’t you try Legilimency?”
“He’s probably an Occlumens. He managed to deceive the headmaster,” Snape answered with a shrug.
“No, he isn’t. He just told me so.”
Snape stared at him in disbelief, then this expression turned sour. “It doesn’t matter. Legilimency is no better than the Cruciatus Curse, and you wouldn’t want that, would you.”
“No better? Why does Dumbledore use it, then? He even let you use it on Harry,” Remus objected. After what Snape had told him about Voldemort’s way of abusing his Legilimency powers, Remus could understand what Snape was trying to say, but after all, they would not use it like that, would they?
“It depends on your point of view... or perhaps your tastes,” Snape replied with an edge of dark amusement. “Some prisoners might prefer having their mind violated, but I would always choose Cruciatus, if I were in the same situation.”
Remus nodded. “You’re probably right.”
Snape started sorting through the boxes he had brought from the attic. They contained all sorts of ingredients that didn’t mean a thing to Remus.
“It’s different with Dumbledore,” Snape said unexpectedly. “He’s far better at Legilimency than I am. For one thing, he doesn’t need a wand or an incantation to do it. Just like with the Dark Lord, eye contact suffices for him. And he can look specifically at the things he wants to look at. He doesn’t drag up all the rest.”
Remus’ thoughts drifted off to Regulus, then to Harry, then back to Snape. He had questions on his mind but it was difficult to formulate them now.
“Legilimency, Occlumency... they’re not arts that can usually be taught, are they? You must have some talent for it, right?”
Snape nodded. “Occlumency can be trained, but not actually taught. It’s a matter of control over your mind. Most people who have a natural talent at Occlumency have developed it as some kind of self-defence. People like Potter, who throw their feelings at everyone who comes their way don’t learn it easily.”
“So you didn’t teach Harry badly out of spite?”
“It’s hard to do anything not out of spite when it comes to Potter,” was the sour reply. “But yes, he is also naturally incompetent at it. And control over your mind is also not an art best learned at fifteen.”
++++
It was about four in the morning on October the 28th when the potion was finally ready. Remus and Snape, who had stayed awake throughout the night, didn’t waste anymore time. They went into the bathroom, lifted the Stunning Spell and showed Black the potion.
“We can force you to drink this,” Snape said, sounding hopeful.
Regulus sneered. “I’m sure you can, Severus.”
Snape grabbed Black’s chin and forced his mouth open with the vial. Their captive stared at him with the cold vicious rage of an animal, but he opened his mouth and drank. Snape let go of him and threw the vial into the sink. He washed his hands while Remus watched Regulus. At first there seemed to be no effect at all. Then the younger man started to shudder, he closed his eyes and bared his teeth in a grimace of pain. He groaned and convulsed, banged his head against the tiles and quickly broke into a sweat. Again, the smell of cat became overpowering in the small room.
Snape looked down at him in disgust. “Black!” he barked, trying to get his attention.
Regulus’ head lolled from side to side, but he managed to tilt it up and open his eyes a little bit. Beads of sweat ran down his face like tears.
“How can the Merlin’s Tree spell be lifted?” Snape asked loudly.
The shackled man made a horrible sound, half retching half growling. Snape repeated his question. A spasm went through the body in the tub, then Regulus suddenly went limp. A crease appeared between Snape’s dark brows.
“He’s withstood it.”
Remus felt nauseous. The room smelled of fear and pain and of rotten things. For the last few minutes, Regulus had barely looked human. Was this what he looked like when he transformed into a werewolf, Remus wondered.
“The reaction was strange,” Snape observed. He didn’t look sympathetic in the least. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”
++++
It was half past eight when the man in the bathtub woke again. He looked ruffled and almost filthy now, but he quickly regained his composure. His hair was tangled like the tawny mane of a lion and his eyes had taken on an almost yellow hue.
“I told you,” he said, looking exclusively at Remus. “It won’t work. It might do me in, though, if you try that again.”
“Can he be physically immune against Truth Serum?” Remus asked Snape, ignoring their prisoner. Snape let his gaze wander over the chained man.
“There are antidotes, but they have to be taken immediately before or after one drinks Truth Serum. No, I think he withstood it by will-force.”
Regulus looked at Snape, but he said nothing. His expression was tight and strained, and more sane looking that Remus had seen him since they caught him. The defiance and mockery Black had shown before was gone. Remus scratched his cheek, asking himself how they should proceed. He ought to shave, he noticed dimly, and then his eyes darted back to Regulus’ face. No stubble, not the slightest bit. No sign of hunger or thirst, for almost twenty hours now. He hadn’t asked to use the toilet. He had complained about the cold, but had he ever shivered or had goosebumps on his bare arms? No.
Remus got up and came closer to Regulus. The man had had his hands tied above his head for such a long time... shouldn’t he have complained about that?
Suddenly Snape whipped out his wand and pointed it at Regulus.
“Legilimens!”
Regulus stared up at the two men standing in front of him, with much the same indifferent expression as before. But Remus noticed a spark of defiance growing again in those eyes, almost daring them to do this. What was wrong with Regulus? His thoughts raced. Of course, he suddenly realised. Of course! It all added up to... Regulus was... he got out his wand.
Snape and Black still stared at each other in a mute duel of willpower. Remus raised his free hand, wanted to warn Snape.
“Don’t ““
But suddenly Snape winced, and a shiver went through his whole body, starting from his head, down his arms and torso, until he stumbled backwards, clutching his forehead and then his chest as if he were having a heart-attack. Remus grabbed his arm, but Snape was unexpectedly heavy and for a moment they lost their balance, swaying first against the bathtub and then back against the wall. Remus let go of his wand, otherwise it would have been crushed between him and the wall.
Snape grabbed Remus’ shirt, a crazed expression on his face and then he bit his lip, so hard that drops of blood welled up beneath his teeth. Blood also came from his nose. Snape screamed and Regulus shouted something.
“Severus!” Remus grabbed the hand with which Snape was still clutching his own wand. “Stop it! He’s dead! He’s dead Severus, stop it!”
He heard the whispered spell too late, and turned to face Regulus’ devious smile, Regulus, who had freed himself with Remus wand, which he had accioed, Regulus, who was “
The world froze suddenly and faded.