"I've been practicing that one for quite some time," Voldemort continued, "and I thought I might use it on the Potters, once you've led me to them, but I decided to treat you to a little show instead, Mr. Black, since you're about to do me the kind favor of telling where they are hiding."
"You seem pretty sure of that," Sirius growled. His heart was pounding furiously and his hands felt clammy, but he knew that Voldemort wouldn't be able to sense his fear if he kept it locked away in the farthest corners of his mind and didn't think about it.
"Oh, I am, I am," said Voldemort cheerfully, as he sauntered over to Sirius's sofa and sat down. "After all, Mr. Black, you seem a perfectly reasonable fellow, and even if you aren't, I can be rather persuasive, you know."
"So I've heard."
There was suddenly a painfully loud ringing in Sirius's ears, accompanied by the feeling the feeling that his head was being squeezed in a metal vice. He fell to his knees, the pain was so great. After about ten seconds, though, it stopped.
"A mild example of my abilities, Mr. Black," Voldemort said with a menacing smile, "very mild. I don't much like your disrespectful tone, sir, and I expect it to improve immediately."
Sirius didn't reply.
"That's better already. Now then," he continued, standing up and beginning to pace slowly around Sirius where he was still crouched on the floor, "I'll tell you something interesting; killing people can be quite enjoyable, Mr. Black," Voldemort went on, "so can torturing them. However, when it comes to recreation, there are more than enough Muggles around to suit my purposes. As far as wizards are concerned, I generally find it in my best interest to make allies of them instead. Therefore, I'm going to make you a rather generous offer," he stopped pacing and bowed his head to whisper in Sirius's ear, "Anything you want, anything in the world. Do you have any idea what sorts of things dark magic can give you that your stupid, weak, good magic cannot? I'm not asking you for lifetime service and commitment, I'm not even asking you to swear loyalty to me or to put yourself in danger from those idiots in the Ministry of Magic. I'm asking you for one small piece of information, and I'll give you anything you desire. I can fix it so no one will ever realize that you betrayed your precious friends..."
But he stopped in mid-sentence as he saw that Sirius was already shaking his head vigorously.
Behind the closet door, Mathilde was wringing her hands nervously. Lie to him, Sirius, she thought, can't you just lie, and then run for your life?
A cold sweat was now standing out on Sirius's brow, and even Mathilde could see it. His jaw was set, though, and his face showed no fear.
"Think of this, then," Voldemort said venomously, "I can also offer you life instead of death, Sirius. Don't you think that's a good price for a little secret?"
"Not quite good enough," Sirius growled.
"Oh dear," said Voldemort, shaking his head, "it would seem that you're one of those infuriatingly noble types, aren't you? Too bad you refused my offers, Sirius, because you're going to tell me anyway. Only now, you've lost the chance to get anything for yourself out of the deal. Even your life."
The Dark Lord took a few steps away from Sirius and stood facing him for a moment, tapping his wand against his hand.
Sirius knew what was coming. He also knew how much Voldemort enjoyed delaying it, letting Sirius's fearful anticipation build.
Then it happened. Voldemort pointed his wand at Sirius and cried, "Crucio!"
Inside the closet, Mathilde stuffed her fist inside her mouth to keep herself from screaming out loud as Sirius's collapsed on the floor, shaking uncontrollably. He was screaming, too, and it was the most fearful sound she'd ever heard. It was so loud, she thought perhaps it would carry far enough for someone to hear it...but what could anyone do to help him now?
Stop it, stop it, she screamed in her head, Please stop it. Oh, God help us.
Then, with a tiny flick of his wrist, Voldemort ended it. Sirius stopped shaking, and lay panting on the floor. He groaned quietly.
"I'll give you a moment to recover your voice, Mr. Black," Voldemort told him, "and then you can decide whether or not you wish to cooperate."
But Sirius shook his head, and braced himself for the next blow.
It came again almost instantly, and lasted longer this time. Mathilde turned her face away from the keyhole this time, and began to sob silently.
This time when it ended, Sirius struggled to raise himself to his feet, but he was so weakened by the pain that he only managed to make it to his knees.
"No," he said firmly to Voldemort, "No again. And it's getting easier to say 'no' to you each time, Voldemort," he spat out the name boldly.
"So," Voldemort said menacingly, "you won't tell. Fine. I'll find someone else who will, mark my words."
Voldemort glanced around the room, and smiled. "This is quite a lovely home you have here, Black. Very lovely....however," he said, moving slowly toward the closet that hid Mathilde, "I think you may just have an infestation of some kind. Yes, there's definitely some kind of ...vermin hiding here somewhere!"
And with that, the closet door flew open to reveal a very, very frightened looking Mathilde.
"Just as I suspected," Voldemort cried triumphantly, "you've got Muggles in your closets!"
Sirius's eyes met Mathilde's, and he wished he could communicate telepathically without Voldemort hearing. He thought quickly; if only he could convince Voldemort that she meant very little to him, that she was nothing more than some stupid little tart he was having a bit of fun with...perhaps he wouldn't try to hurt her to make him talk... Voldemort could usually tell when people were lying, but he wasn't infallible...
He fixed Mathilde with a sour, apathetic glare.
"There you are, Mathilde," he said with a shrug, "you're too stupid to run away, and I guess you're too stupid to even hide yourself properly. Well, he's probably going to kill you now, you know. Serves you right, you half-witted tart," he added.
The look on Mathilde's face told him that she'd caught on to his game; he knew that Mathilde would normally react to being spoken to that way with hot rage and sarcasm, but the look on her face was a hurt one, but without surprise.
"What a pretty little Muggle plaything you've got here, Sirius," said Voldemort, grabbing hold of Mathilde's arm and jerking her out of the closet, "perhaps she can be of some use to me..."
"You're welcome to her," Sirius said casually, "she means nothing to me."
"Perhaps not," Voldemort said, "and I can see you wouldn't put your darling friends in danger for the sake of this thing," he threw Mathilde to the floor at his feet, "However..." He turned to Sirius again.
"The unfortunate thing about the Cruciatus Curse," he said, "is that its victims are unable to speak while they are under it. Interrogations would be much more efficient with something more than just the memory of pain to motivate someone to speak..." he turned to Mathilde, "My dear, I would like you to provide a voice for your dear Mr. Black, if you please."
Before Sirius could say a word, Voldemort had pointed his wand at him and yelled, "Crucio!" once more. Again, he fell to the floor, screaming.
"No!" Mathilde sobbed, and tried to reach for Voldemort's wand, but she found that her body was frozen. "No, please," she cried, "stop it!"
Sirius continued to thrash about, screaming. Mathilde found that she could not look away.
"Certainly, my dear," said Voldemort pleasantly, "once you've told me what you know about the location of the Potters."
Mathilde continued to stare at Sirius. She had to say something, anything...she had to stop this...
"Please," she cried, "I don't know where they are! Sirius can't lead you to them either."
To her surprise, Voldemort pulled his wand away from Sirius and turned to look at her.
"You're telling the truth," he said, sounding incredulous, "I can tell when people lie. You don't realize what you've just told me, do you?" he said with a laugh. "If your precious Black can't bring me to the Potters, then it means he's not their Secret-Keeper."
Voldemort threw back his head and emitted a high-pitched, evil shriek of a laugh.
"Yes, Mr. Black, I know about the Fidelius Charm. I've known for quite some time, now."
Then Remus is the spy Sirius thought grimly, No one else could have told him that except Dumbledore and Peter.
"So, tell me, my dear, who is the Secret-Keeper?"
"I don't know."
"You're lying! You're lying!" he cried gleefully, "I know you are. Tell me who it is."
"It's Dumbledore," Sirius insisted.
"Liar! Ha!" Voldemort cried, "I know who it is! It's Wormtail!" He laughed again. "You fool," he said to Sirius, "I'm not going to kill you after all. No, it's going to be much more fun to leave you to live with your mistake."
And then he vanished.
