Thin White Duke

Sirius was pacing. Pandora had gone to fetch Regulus and James ages ago. Had something happened? Had Regulus regressed? Was he dead? Why hadn’t anyone come for him?

“Stop catastrophising, love.” Remus chided from the comfort of his armchair. He wasn’t sure how she had done it, but Pandora had managed to secure a hotel suite, complete with separate sitting and bed rooms. The five friends had taken up residence in the sitting room, while their captive had been placed bound and unconscious in the bedroom. 

Sirius spun on his heel at the sound of the door opening and hurled himself at Regulus who immediately cast a shielding spell. 

James let out an “Oomf” catching Sirius who had crashed into him. 

“That wasn’t very nice,.” Sirius pouted. 

“You know how I feel about physical contact.” Regulus replied, continuing into the room. 

“You let James hug you.” 

“Yes. I’m not sure if you noticed, I also couldn’t move on my own.” Regulus said, sarcasm rife in his tone.

James and Remus exchanged an amused glance. ‘This is going to be fun. The pouting prince and snarky snob.’ James thought cheerfully. 

“Everyone sit please.” Pandora said and closed the door. She seated herself beside Lily on the couch, Tara was sitting on the floor in front of Willow who sat in one of the armchairs. Sirius did the same in front of Remus. James sat on the other side of Pandora. Regulus remained standing, staring out the tall window at the river in the distance.   

James noticed the minute roll of the shoulders as Regulus turned to face them. He scanned the faces of his friends. They were alert. Pandora had brought them up to speed before making their way here. What happened next was clearly up to the man at the window. 

“Do any of you know who the man in the bedroom is?” Regulus began. They all shook their heads. Regulus knew Pandora did, though they hadn’t discussed it, but said nothing. “Whatever happens in that room, I need each and every one of you to promise not to interfere. I would prefer you were not here, however as you captured him you retain the right to know. Not the right to get involved. Is that clear?” 

A myriad of emotions crossed the faces before him. Remus understood. Tara and Willow exchanged a glance. They had been here before. James and Lily were resigned to letting Regulus take the lead. James even seemed slightly amused. Sirius was, predictably, upset at being left out. 

“Why you?” He asked starting to rise from the floor. 

Remus put a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. He also knew who the man was. Scents never lie. “Because Regulus knows what he’s doing.”

“And I don’t?”

“When was the last time you interrogated a prisoner for information?” Regulus asked, his tone mild, his eyes like steel. 

James winced. They were about to witness the side of Regulus that had kept him as one of Voldemort's most trusted lieutenants. Killing and injuring in a battle was one thing. Interrogation, torture. That was something quite different. James really hoped the man would be sensible and talk freely. For all their sakes. 

“Good.” Regulus continued when Sirius remained silent. “You will be able to see and hear us. We shall not be able to see or hear you.”

“A classic two-way mirror. Like in cop shows.” Willow said. “This should be interesting.” 

“Reg.” James blurted, just managing not to put out his hand as Regulus strode past. 

Regulus looked down, the steel in his eyes melting for an instant. “I always am.” He said quietly and went next door. Instantly the doorway went black before slowly clearing to reveal the man tied to a desk chair, his back towards them. Pandora's jumper had finally been removed. 

Regulus examined the man with a bored expression. He had found over the years that his victims thinking he was bored made the process go more quickly. Nobody wanted to believe they’re not interesting, so they would fill the silence with rambling, some of which was useful.  Regulus waited. He actually liked silence. It gave him time to think and observe the person before him. He wasn’t expecting this man to last very long. 

The silence stretched. Regulus waited. The man fidgeted. The sounds of winter birds filtered in through the window. Incongruous given the situation.  Regulus gave a polite yawn. 

“Usually I introduce myself, but in this case I believe you already know me.”

The man snarled. 

“What name would you like me to call you!” Regulus continued. 

“I’m called Raoul.” The man ground out.  

“Raoul. Did you come up with that or was it bestowed upon you by your master?”

“Our Master.” 

Regulus didn’t react. It was always best to get that relationship established early. It meant they made more assumptions. 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone the Master was alive after the battle? It gave us a terrible scare, destroying many families and followers when the Order declared victory.” Regulus paused. “If we had known, you would have received help. Healers. Potions. Money.” 

“Help? Help? I would have been shoved aside. Ignored. I did not need any help from the likes of you or your pathetic family.” 

Regulus said nothing. 

“The Dark Lord instructed the Lamia to assist when I required it. He had money here I could access and instruct me on what I needed to know to heal him. I was also able to do small favours for Nagini and Zmija from time to time.”  The man paused, his tone had grown lascivious, his cheeks flushed. “Their payments were most … satisfying.”

Regulus suppressed a shudder. One man’s dream, another man’s nightmare. Regulus circled the man slowly, assessing, before stopping in front of the man again. 

“Clearly you learnt quickly. Tell me more about how you served the dark lord.  I must confess, you were a very well kept secret. You must have been extremely valuable to him.”

The man preened at the false flattery. “The Dark Lord recognized my worth. He approached me the evening we were scouting potential packs.  He said that he believed I had a great deal of potential. Where others saw only a pathetic youth with more interesting friends, he saw the making of a great wizard.  A wizard far more powerful than any other he had come across.” 

Regulus turned and moved to the window. It took longer to stop the laugh threatening to emerge than it should have. Regulus had heard Volfemort use a similar line with many people, including him. And nearly everyone believed it. He stared at a crow. The crow stared back. He regained control. “You certainly displayed untapped potential at your lecture a few nights ago.” He said, watching Raoul's reflection in the window.  Merlin! How he hated this form of flattery. 

Raoul sat up as straight as he could in his bounds. “The Dark Lord declared I was a natural at the dark arts.” He said proudly.  

Regulus let him preen. The silence stretched to the point even the crow flew away. When it felt thin enough, Regulus glided back to Raoul. Raoul’s eyes widened. A mantle of darkness now enveloped the young Lord making him seem taller and more menacing then before. Raoul felt himself deflate but refused to let it show. Regulus saw it anyway. 

“He recognised your potential. He taught you dark magic.” A pause. “What did you do for him?” A demand. 

Raoul swallowed past the lump of fear lodged in his throat. He felt the anger rise. Embraced it. Raoul hated being afraid. He had spent so much of his life hiding in other people’s shadows, unwilling to go against his so-called friends and their hair-brained pranks, for fear of being ridiculed or forgotten. Being singled out by, and working for, with, the Dark Lord had given him purpose. Had shown him that fear was a weapon to be employed to defeat his enemies. He would not be afraid of this jumped up rich boy with his family money and two-bit tricks. 

“I did whatever it took. I lied and cheated. I made sure that our dark lord always knew when shipments were coming in and what wizards had been assigned to the most valuable assignments. What did you do Lord Black?” Raoul spat. “With your fancy dinners and family connections, when did you do anything that damaged the enemy?”

Regulis refused to bristle. This despicable rat had no idea. “You betrayed your friends, your family. Everyone who ever trusted you.  For what? The dark lord is dead and most of the death eaters are rotting in Azkaban.” 

“But I’m not. I’m stronger than ever. You think you have me caught. You are wrong.” Raoul stated angrily. “Displodor.” He snarled. “Obitus.”

Regulus yawned a genuine yawn this time. He really was exhausted and all his energy needed to be focused on what magic he had left. 

“Crucio” Raoul yelled, pouring everything he’d learnt into the spell. 

Regulus deflected the curse with a contemptuous flick of his hand. 

“You do need to practice more for such spells to be effective.” Regulus said and cast the spell at Raoul, without a sound and also without a wand. 

Raoul screamed. Regulus watched impassively and then abruptly dismissed the curse. 

“That is how you do it. Would you like another go? I have all night.” 

Raoul remained quiet, glaring at Regulus. Regulus flicked his fingers.  Raoul writhed in his chair, fighting the spell's effect. Regulus dismissed the curse. “Another one?” he asked casually. “Perhaps this is more to your style.” Regulus cast a double spell, freezing Raoul and then covering him with flames. The stench of burning flesh filled the room. Regulus waited a few minutes before dismissing the spells. 

Raoul was unharmed, and badly shaken. He screamed again. This time in frustration. “What do you want from me?” 

“I want to know why and how.” Regulus said reasonably. 

“I told you. Power. Recognition,” 

“You had recognition. Others knew who you were.” 

“I was an afterthought. Even the swot was better known than me. It was always James this and Sirius that and isn’t Remus handsome and do you think James will go out with me what about Sirius I heard  he’s a great kisser. They’re so clever and funny and good looking. No one ever talked about me! They barely even talked to me.” Resentment  layered Raoul’s voice.  

Regulus waited. 

“There was never any recognition. Ever. Even though I came up with the best pranks. I was the smartest of us all. I won the most house points. I was the best chess player the school had ever seen. Even when we left, it was always about James Bloody Potter and Sirius Bloody Black. They would be sent on the best missions, and people would wonder and worry and celebrate when they came back. Never once did anyone say hey Pete, how you going, you did a brilliant job there, so glad you didn’t get caught in the cross fire. We missed you. No one ever paid attention to me until the Dark Lord came along and recognized my potential. He understood what it was like to be destined for greatness but always overlooked. I enjoyed watching the order squirm, sitting with my so-called peers trying to figure out who was passing along information. Nobody ever suspected polite Peter Pettigrew, the mild mannered general dogsbody who never questioned orders, of having the brains to infiltrate discussions and design systems to extract information that could be used by the other side. Bloody stupid bastards. They even believed the rumours I started about Sirius being the traitor because he was a Black and still loyal to his psychotic family. The one about Lupin didn’t take off because not enough people believed he was a werewolf. Fucking idiots. He’s the scariest of the lot.” Peter paused in his rant, chest heaving, eyes glinting with barely suppressed rage. 

“What about Potter?”

Peter let out a bark of laughter. “Mr bloody perfect. Not likely. Everybody likes him. Plus Effie’s one of the scariest women I’ve ever met. Don’t let her friendliness fool you. If I’d started a rumour about her precious son I’d be lying dead in a ditch by now and the entire order would have known I was the brains behind the internal destruction. No. He was protected.” Peter grinned maniacally. “Best years of my life. I was the perfect spy. And bloody good at it too. It’s a pity the hotel ambush failed so badly. Why’d you do it Black?” 

“Do what?”

“Betray our Dark Lord,” 

Regulus considered the question and decided on the truth. “I didn’t. That was all Snape.”

“I don’t believe you. We used to meet. He was so badly treated by James and Sirius, and Dumbledore thought he was rubbish, he would never betray his vow. Plus he was a trusted part of the inner circle. He told me on more than one occasion how he admired the Dark Lord and how grateful he was to learn so much from such a great wizard.” 

“All the same reasons I would not betray him.” 

Peter snorted. “Prove it.” He demanded. 

Regulus smiled, a cold, predatory smile, and stepped up to the chair. “Are you sure?” He asked with icy glee. 

Pater nodded, completely regretting his challenge. Regulus dropped his wand into his hand and placed the tip against Peter’s temple. He didn’t need to but it was far more effective for eliciting fear. “Legilimans,” 

Regulus stood on a chess board. Broken chess pieces lay scattered around the edges. In the middle of the chessboard he saw Peter and Snape drinking beer at a random pub. Regulus replaced the image with one he had found in a Snape’s head of Snape meeting with Dumbledore at the same pub, though a different table.

Other images started to crowd the board. Regulus wandered through them until he came to the memories he was looking for. In one corner was the hotel ambush followed by a mad dash to the continent and the several weeks it took before arriving at the cathedral, where he was met by Nagini, Zmija and Walburga. Well that confirmed what he had seen in Walburga’s mind, though her version was far more grandiose. 

Regulus removed his wand. “Satisfied?” 

Peter nodded, eyes wide with fear. “How? How did you do that? I built that board so nobody could see anything and get lost in endless chess games.  You walk in and all the pieces explode leaving everything exposed.”

“I told you. Practice. The dark arts take lots and lots of practice. I’ve spent years building and tearing down protective spells in other people's heads.” Regulus grinned nastily. “I can make people believe what I want them to. And destroy them from the inside out.”

Peter blanched. “What else did you see?” 

“Enough to know you’ve been telling the truth. And to answer my questions.” 

“If you could do that so easily, why this charade? Do you get some sick pleasure from making people spill their secrets to you?” 

“Not at all. That’s my mother. You’ve met her, but she made sure you don’t remember the encounter.” 

“Then how? Why?” 

Regulus raised a haughty brow and ignored the question.  “Is there anything else you would like to add regarding why you betrayed your best friends?” 

Peter shook his head and slumped in his chair “They’re not my friends. I was a satellite. They never cared for anyone but themselves.” He muttered sourly. He had been so fixated on his revenge and desire to be a great wizard it had never occurred to him that he would be caught and forced to confess. Rallying Peter stared up at Regulus. “What happens now?”

“How do you feel about torture? Some more crucio, I find that one particularly unpleasant, or participating in Snape’s favorite cutting spell? I’m happy to practice that one, but it’s still somewhat unreliable at keeping victims alive.” Regulus paused thoughtfully. “Perhaps some good old fashioned digit removal to send to your mother. Or a memory loop of all the innocents your actions destroyed. I can add Zmija in there for a little self relief if you’d like.” Regulus said as though he was discussing what to order for dinner. “Tell you what. Have a think about what you’d like me to do and I’ll see if I can accommodate your request.” Regulus added as though an afterthought and left the room to the sound of Peter shouting his name and screaming in a mix of terror and fury