Chapter 3
No Veritaserum.
Hermione furrowed her brows at the message. Who was he kidding? Had being Crucio'd addled Malfoy's brain? She shook her head in disbelief and shoved the Galleon back in her pocket, returning to the matter at hand.
Hermione sat with Ron and Harry in their bedroom at Paddington safe house, mulling over what was known of the Horcruxes. As per Tonks' instructions, she Obliviated them after requesting their permission. Neither one of them was happy about it, but they grudgingly allowed her to do what was necessary. Ron managed to see a bright side, in the typical fashion that Ronald Bilius Weasley would.
"If I kill the ponce in battle, then I won't have to feel bad about him turning rat on his friends, now will I? Obliviate away."
She looked down at her notes. With the help of Dumbledore's memories and books Minerva had been smuggling them from the Hogwarts' library, they were somewhat more intelligent now than a few months ago. The trio didn't know who R.A.B was or what the actual Horcrux where they'd found his note was supposed to be. But they had identified the Hufflepuff cup and Ravenclaw diadem, which was somewhat encouraging.
Where they were located remained to be determined.
"I think we need to raid Ministry files," Harry said, breaking the silence. "R.A.B. is our only lead on that locket."
"Don't you have any ideas Hermione?" Ron asked.
He always looked to her to provide the solution. She usually had one. This time, she was coming up short.
"Dumbledore suggested that the Horcruxes would be hidden in places that were meaningful to You-Know-Who." Hermione replied. "Hogwarts is an obvious location, but where? And I doubt he'd put all of the Horcruxes there."
"We need to go to Hogwarts anyway to get the basilisk teeth," Ron reminded her.
"Yes, but we shouldn't go there until we know where to look. We can't just go wandering around, even if Minerva is still there," she countered. "It's too risky."
"He trusted Lucius Malfoy with one of them," Harry reminded her. "Who else would he trust?"
"Peter Pettigrew?" She offered. He had brought Voldemort back.
Harry shook his head. "No, I didn't get the impression that Volde-"
"HARRY!" Ron shouted.
"-that You-Know-Who," Harry continued with a glare. "thought very highly of him from the way he was treated at the graveyard."
"Snape?" Hermione asked. "Yaxley? Bellatrix?"
Ron groaned and rubbed his eyes. "There are too many Death Eaters to choose from. They're like a fungus. Leave them alone for too long and they spread."
Harry snorted.
She let out an exasperated sigh and looked up at the ceiling. Perhaps this was something she could try and figure out with Malfoy. Who Voldemort trusted the most. At least he was communicating with her, nonsensical as his communications may be.
"I'm going down to the kitchen to make tea. You want some?"
Harry looked up. "Yeah, that would be nice. It'll wash the taste of beans away."
Funds were tight. Since they had so many new recruits to feed and recently acquired Paddington safe house for the much needed residential quarters, the quality of food had gone down dramatically.
"Nothing will wash the taste of beans away," Ron grumbled. "I don't know what's worse. Endless beans, or Fred and George singing variations of 'Beans, beans they're good for your heart' every night at supper."
"Definitely the song," Hermione replied, opening the door to their bedroom.
"Bring the sugar bowl," Harry told her. "You can't be trusted to add enough."
She smiled at him cheekily. "You'll thank me when you reach the ripe old age of 160 without a single cavity."
"Sugar bowl!" he called from the room as she descended the stairs.
'No Veritaserum.' What did that even mean?
He was completely barmy. Hermione wondered if Malfoy had recovered from being Crucio'd this morning. She recalled the sound of his screams and winced. Why would the Malfoy's allow their son to get caught up in such a terrible situation?
The water in the kettle boiled while she set up a tray with some biscuits.
Malfoy knew they were going to interrogate Dolohov and Bixley. He knew they'd use Veritaserum. So why tell her not to? What would happen if they did? It's not as if Veritaserum was deadly. If so, it would be nullified as an interrogation tactic. They'd lose their prisoners before asking a single question.
Her stomach lurched.
Was that… possible?
She pulled out the Galleon, sent a quick reply and shoved it back in her pocket.
"Harry! Ron!" she called up the stairs, her voice ringing with alarm.
"Sugar bowl!" was Harry's answer.
"I have to leave for Pinner now!" she called frantically.
They came thundering down the stairs at the urgency of her tone. "What happened?" Ron asked.
"Something with the interrogation. I'll be back in five." She set the mugs back on the counter. "If you're patient, I'll still make you tea."
"With sugar?" Harry quipped.
She ran out the door and Apparated, giving him a smile and the two fingered salute.
oooooooooooooooo
"No wonder Dolohov seems so calm," Remus commented after Hermione relayed the news. He, Tonks and Hermione stared down at Dolohov, his dark eyes glaring right back at them underneath thick black eyebrows. He was sitting on the cot in his cell, completely silent. "Bixley isn't though."
They shifted their focus to the Death Eater in the other cell, who was shaking, and visibly nervous. He alternated between biting his fingernails, pacing back and forth, glancing at them, and sitting down on his cot.
Two cells were all they had at Pinner safe house right now. If the Order wanted to expand their capture and interrogation operations, they would need to enlarge Pinner. Hermione knew Tonks would be pressing for their scant funds to be used for precisely that after today's success. Everyone wanted another safe house to ease the cramped living conditions and better food. But Hermione wanted Portkeys. They were all sitting ducks. One well-executed safe house raid with anti-Apparition wards and they'd be finished.
The senior leadership meetings revolved mostly around fund usage and strategic planning. Funding was quickly becoming a sore topic for all of them.
"Have you ever heard of a potion that would have such an effect?" Hermione didn't know what it would be, but a potion seemed the most logical answer. A potion could stay in the body for some time before it was completely excreted, but a charm wouldn't interact physiologically in such a manner. Perhaps a charm could be used to retain the potion inside the body for a longer period of time.
Tonks shook her head and continued staring at Dolohov in thought. His black eyes studied them. Hostile, giving away nothing and yet daring them to try. He couldn't hear them through the charmed cell bars, but with the way he was so intently focused on them, she wondered if he could read lips.
"Snape might have invented something new," Tonks surmised.
"We could take blood samples," Hermione suggested. "To see what the potion ingredients are and how long they remain in the system. I don't understand what would make Veritaserum deadly. Especially in the small amounts used in interrogation scenarios. Do you?"
Remus turned to face them.
"Perhaps it's the other way around," he replied. "Veritaserum makes the other potion deadly." He approached Tonks and said with a sad expression on his face. "You know what this means, Dora, if you can't use Veritaserum."
Tonks curled her lip in disgust as she looked on at the two Death Eaters.
Hermione wasn't quite sure she understood Remus' meaning. Was he referring to torture?
"Are you…" Tonks and Remus looked at her as if she were intruding on a private conversation, despite her being right there. "Are you going to torture them?"
Hermione was stunned, and tried to keep the judgement out of her voice. She didn't have experience as an Auror like Tonks, and she hadn't fought in (and lost) the First Wizarding War like Remus. Discussion of torture made her feel young and inexperienced.
Naïve, even.
If you fought on the side of good, then you didn't torture.
Did you?
"Do you have any other ideas?" Tonks asked her. Hermione knew the question was rhetorical. Tonks had already gone through the options.
"Legilimency?"
That was obvious, wasn't it?
Tonks gave her a wry grin. "Have you got a Legilimens on hand? Confessions under pain of torture are not always reliable. Veritaserum and Legilimency are preferable. Now that we suspect we can't rely on Veritaserum, we either need to find a Legilimens or make one. I'm not sure which is more difficult – and that's assuming Dolohov isn't an Occlumens."
"I'll add a Legilimens to the list," Remus replied dryly. Hermione felt a looming anxiety. Their 'list' was a three-foot roll of parchment filled with things they couldn't afford. The Order leadership needed to rework their priorities… again… considering the lack of funds.
"Anything else?" Tonks asked.
"Tongue Loosening Serum?"
Tonks shook her head. "Extremely unreliable. If they catch on quickly enough, they can lie to you through all the babbling."
Hermione was out of ideas.
So. Torture.
Was it really that easy to justify?
Hermione was shocked as she contemplated this new war-torn world where two people that she held in such high esteem were seriously considering torture as an option. Accepted it as an option. And now… preparing for it? Remus had been her professor in Defense Against the Dark Arts of all things, and he was sanctioning the use of Unforgivable Curses?
Tonks had become somewhat of a mentor to Hermione over the past month that she participated in the Order meetings. Hermione admired her to no end. Mentored by Mad-Eye Moody of all people, she was one of the youngest Aurors ever to join the department and one of several women in a profession mostly dominated by older men. And she was okay with… torture?
Hermione eyed Tonks and Remus as if she had never seen them before. Would Dumbledore have condoned this? She had the feeling that Kingsley would. Did Minerva? She thought about the strata of information and the 'need to know' policy that the leaders enacted. Maybe they didn't even know? Was this something Remus and Tonks would keep from them?
The couple gazed patiently back at Hermione. Neither one appeared surprised at her reaction.
"But," Hermione protested, still horrified. "Wouldn't using torture make us as bad as them?"
This line of reasoning was the classic Nietzsche argument. When fighting monsters, don't become a monster in the process. It was one thing to argue philosophical points on a theoretical basis, it was quite another for the theory to become reality, staring you directly in the face.
Tonks sighed, glancing at Remus affectionately and then back to Hermione with a tired smile. Hermione had a feeling that they had gone through these exact points together already. Perhaps multiple times. Remus must have convinced Tonks that the use of Unforgivable Curses would be a necessary evil.
"If you get captured by Death Eaters and tortured for information, is Dora the same as your interrogator?" Remus posed the question in a tone of voice reminiscent of his lectures back in third year.
Hermione pondered his question and swallowed. "Of course not."
Remus leaned against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. "Why not?"
Hermione licked her lips nervously and shifted her gaze to Tonks. She tried to picture Tonks standing above Dolohov, pointing her wand, and standing above him while he writhed on the ground, screaming in between questions. She couldn't do it. She couldn't see Tonks using the Cruciatus Curse at all.
"She doesn't want to do it," Hermione replied.
He shrugged. "What else?"
Still gazing at Tonks, Hermione replied, "She went through all the other options first."
"Well, not entirely." Tonks interrupted. "The Aurors have other methods that aren't so brutal." She flexed her fingers and stretched. "I'll start with the Confundus Charm and Imperius Curse on Bixley here combined with sleep deprivation. I might have to smack him around a bit. That should be enough to get what we want out of him." Tonks' lips lifted slightly. "He already looks scared."
Hermione's eyes widened. Was Tonks being entirely honest in that she didn't want to torture Death Eaters? Then again, Hermione remembered the perverse sense of satisfaction from when she smacked Malfoy in third year. And when she sicced those nasty birds on Ron. And when she held Rita Skeeter in a jar. And when Marietta Edgecomb got those boils. And when Umbridge…
Hermione was a hypocrite. It was only human to enjoy inflicting pain on someone that wronged you.
"So you don't have to use the Cruciatus Curse," she said, feeling better already.
"Bixley hasn't spent nearly twenty years in Azkaban, he'll be easier to break." Tonks sighed. "Dolohov will require more serious methods. If it's a potion barring us from using Veritaserum, maybe it will leave his system."
Tonks sounded doubtful. Hermione was too. If Voldemort had gone to all that trouble of rendering Veritaserum useless, he would have made the effect permanent.
"And if it doesn't?" she prodded.
"Then I Crucio him," Tonks replied, blinking at her.
"But you have to hate them. Doesn't that imply that on some level you want to do it? Just like them?"
The Cruciatus required you to hate. Deeply. And channel that hatred.
"Do you hate anyone, Hermione?" Remus asked curiously.
She recalled his desire to kill Peter Pettigrew in third year. Remus was capable of hatred. With a start, she realized he would have channeled his hatred with the Killing Curse that night had Harry not stopped him. Sirius had escaped Azkaban to do precisely that. To channel his hatred into a Killing Curse.
But Hermione didn't hate anyone. Well… maybe Umbridge. She thought some more. Definitely Umbridge. And Rita Skeeter. Yes, she hated them. But she would never cast a Cruciatus Curse on them. Even Harry couldn't do it properly on Bellatrix in the Department of Mysteries right after she killed Sirius, and he hated Bellatrix more than Hermione hated Umbridge or Skeeter.
"I do," she replied. "But I don't want to Crucio them."
He held his hands out to her. "Hating isn't the same thing as wanting to torture."
Hermione furrowed her brow in thought. He was right, but Remus was rationalizing torture away. That's what this whole discussion was for. But it was wrong. There was a reason they were called Unforgivable Curses. There was a reason you were sent to Azkaban for using them.
"But it's evil," she was nearly pleading with them now. She still couldn't believe they were justifying the use of the Cruciatus. "Wouldn't it be preferable to not torture Dolohov? We're not evil. We can find another solution. We can work with Bixley. Maybe it won't be necessary on Dolohov. There must be another way, we just haven't found it yet."
Tonks turned to her this time. "If Dolohov has information that helps us win the war, and torture is the only way to get it out of him, what would you do?"
Tonks was putting her in the position to make the decision. That's what being part of Order leadership meant, wasn't it? Making tough decisions that others didn't have to. Like this one. Would the Order use evil methods or not? How would they be defined as a movement? How would they be regarded by historians?
She thought of Harry and Ron. Much as Ron had been dismissive about Dolohov torturing Malfoy, she was certain he would never condone the use of the Cruciatus Curse by Tonks. By the side that represented good. Harry wouldn't either.
"I just wouldn't do it. We're defined by how we act in moments like these," Hermione raised her voice, feeling more confident now. "We should choose the high road. It's what Dumbledore would have done."
"Even if there is no other way?" Tonks prodded.
"Even if there is no other way."
Tonks tilted her head. "Did you know that Aurors were allowed the use of Unforgivable Curses back in the First Wizarding War?" Hermione shook her head to the negative. "And we started again a few years ago. Sometimes they were necessary, the Imperius Curse in particular. But they shouldn't be used lightly."
Hermione eyed her. Tonks was appealing to authority. But the Ministry was hardly a paragon of ethics. Perhaps this was why she was ready to use Unforgivable Curses. Tonks already had. With a start, Hermione realized it was Tonks that had convinced Remus that the Order should be using the curses, and not the other way around as Hermione had originally thought.
She was floored.
Who was this woman who changed the color of her hair for fun? She had just cheered Hermione up by transforming her mouth and nose into a duckbill.
Did she really know Tonks at all?
"It's still wrong," Hermione retorted. "Just because the Ministry authorized Aurors to use them doesn't mean that we should. The Ministry does a lot of things I don't agree with, even before Voldemort took over."
Remus chuckled at her comment and Tonks smiled as well.
"What if we lose the war because of the decision to never torture for information?" Tonks posed the question to her. "Many people will die because of it, and the rest will be subjected to an autocratic regime that rules by fear. What if your 'high road' condemns countless people to torture and death, and the remaining to oppression? Remember, this is your choice. And those are the consequences. You condemned everyone."
Hermione swallowed audibly at the weight of responsibility that Tonks had just placed on her. She was asking Hermione to place herself in her shoes for a moment. What if that was the result of her decision? Keep to the high road, and the Order might lose. And if they did, the resulting death and oppression would be her fault, because it was her decision.
"So what it comes down to is that this is the lesser of two evils?" Hermione asked. She couldn't argue with that logic, brutal as it was. The war was real. The consequences were real. This wasn't a theoretical argument. "I... I agree with you," Hermione explained, somewhat in shock. "I can see it now. It just… it still feels wrong."
Hermione thought back to the Death Eaters that she had hexed while riding the thestral with Kingsley. They had fallen to their deaths from their brooms. It didn't feel like killing because she was fighting for her life and was so far removed from the actual death of whomever had fallen. But it was death nonetheless.
Hermione was a killer. She killed two people already and the war had only just started.
It was all real.
Tonks laid a hand on Hermione's shoulder and looked deep into her eyes. "I'll tell you what the difference is between us and them, Hermione."
"Please do," she replied softly.
Tonks gave her that sad smile again and squeezed her shoulder. "Because it is wrong, and we know that. It will never be right to willfully inflict pain on another human being in such a manner. When I've used the Cruciatus Curse in the past, it feels like a small part of me dies inside each time. Even if I don't use the Cruciatus and in lieu of other methods to torture, it still feels terrible. And I do doubt myself every once in a while. Sometimes I do wonder if I've turned into one of the monsters I'm supposed to protect people from."
Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had only really thought of the implications of using torture on the Order, and what they all represented. And of course, she was concerned with the victims of the curses themselves. She had never considered how the use of Unforgivable Curses affected the caster. She felt a pang of sympathy for Tonks, who clearly was not looking forward to having to torture Bixley and Dolohov, and was glad she didn't have this particular responsibility placed on her.
Hermione realized that her initial revulsion and shock was replaced by relief that she herself had no part in this, and admiration in that Tonks shouldered that responsibility for her. For all of them.
"Did you know they're addictive?" Tonks asked, her eyebrows raised.
"The Unforgivable Curses?" Hermione had never heard that before.
"Yes," Tonks continued. "Using the Imperius Curse makes you want to control and manipulate others. The Aurors have to meditate regularly to counteract those negative effects on our mental state. Some with more severe symptoms have taken potions, and all of us saw Mind Healers regularly."
Hermione's eyes widened. "It's that bad?"
Tonks nodded sagely. "The Imperius Curse is particularly insidious because it doesn't feel as terrible from an ethical standpoint as killing or torturing. The Cruciatus and Killing Curses damage you differently. They blend your hatred with your magic, making you feel more powerful. Almost like getting high off potions, but with more clarity. It gets easier to cast them each time, and makes you more prone to giving into hatred."
Hermione nodded wordlessly and Tonks turned back to Dolohov.
"Be thankful you're not the one doing it," she murmured, hands on her hips and staring down at the Death Eater.
"I am," Hermione agreed in earnest.
She had no idea they were so harmful to the caster. She glanced at Tonks out of the corner of her eye with a newfound respect. No wonder she was the one of the youngest Aurors ever to work in the Auror Office. No wonder she wasn't fazed by being a young woman in a profession dominated by older men. Or maybe she was, but didn't voice her doubts.
Hermione felt heartened that Tonks was helping to lead the Order. Her skill, talent and sense of conviction regarding hard decisions gave Hermione a sense of security about the Order's ability to win that she hadn't felt previously.
Tonks smiled appreciatively at Remus. "It's good to have someone that understands and can help when you need it."
Remus leaned wrapped his arm around Tonks and pulled in her for quick hug before appraising Hermione.
"Having a seat at the table," He was referring to Hermione's participation in the senior leadership meetings. "Means you will be forced to make difficult decisions that others do not. Decisions which don't always have a clear, correct answer. You're extremely bright, and think strategically. The focus on getting Muggle-borns into hiding and actively increasing the size of the resistance was not something we had thought of prior. And now," He turned his back on Dolohov, perhaps also suspecting that he could read lips. "We may have a spy to replace Snape. But if you would prefer not to participate at this level any more, none of us would think any lesser of you."
Remus was giving her an out. She could wash her hands of all this. If she wanted, she could turn around, be kept in the dark and not have decisions like these weigh on her conscience.
Hermione straightened her spine. She didn't want them to think she was abdicating responsibility. She was used much better by aiding the Order from a strategical standpoint. How else would she be filling up her days when they didn't have combat training? Horcrux hunting only took up so much time, especially with the lack of leads.
But having a seat at the table, as Remus explained, meant she'd have to make difficult decisions. Like she witnessed now. This wouldn't be the last time she'd have to choose between the lesser of two evils. It was the price to pay for being a leader.
But this was what Hermione wanted. She would pay that price.
"No, of course not. I just… wanted to understand."
Remus's lips lifted in a small smile of approval and Tonks rubbed her arm affectionately.
"About your spy," Remus scratched his stubble in thought, changing the subject. "You said Dolohov Crucio'd him this morning?"
She nodded. "What of it?"
"This might be revenge. Not help."
"What if it's both?" she countered, slightly horrified at the prospect that she brought two men to be tortured by Tonks. And at Malfoy's bidding.
"It might be. You have to be careful with him."
Yes.
She did.
oooooooooooooooo
A loud crack from one of the house elves woke Draco up. He rubbed his eyes, feeling like he got hit in the head with a Bludger. Too many muscle relaxant charms.
"You is wanted in the dining room in an hour, Master."
The rumbling in his stomach reminded Draco that he didn't know how long he slept, or when he had his last meal.
"Father called me?"
"Yes, Master."
Groggily, he stretched his limbs and pushed himself to a sitting position. The blankets fell down, pooling around his waist. He looked over at the clock. It was nearly dinnertime.
"How long did I sleep?" he asked, running a hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes.
"Sixteen hours."
Draco waved his hand dismissively and the elf Disapparated.
Curious, he reached under his pillow to find the Galleon warm. He pulled it out and squinted at the message.
Explain. How long in body?
He rolled his eyes, Still bossy.
Granger must think it was a potion that would wear off with time, and she'd be wrong. He had no intention of helping though, she could do her own bloody homework. The longer they took to figure it out, the longer Dolohov would get tortured. He swiped the edge and the message was replaced by another from her.
Thank you.
Whatever.
He swung his long legs over the side of the bed and stood up, wobbling slightly. At least there wasn't any more pain. He walked over to the bathroom to wash up, flipping the Galleon between his fingers, watching the gold flash over his knuckles. He hadn't had an Occlumency lesson with Snape in over a month. Draco was good. He'd had to be. But a refresher wouldn't hurt, especially with what he'd just told Granger, and Snape was the only one he trusted.
He smiled cruelly.
Let the Order have fun with Dolohov.
Chapter end notes:
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