A swish and flutter. Blue and silver. Fine things, old money. Much like his house, except with an entirely different air. An old carved desk separated the nervous Regulus from the regal Dumbledore, much like the desk in Regulus's house. This one has been used, though, and the seat worn to a comfortable cushion. The edges of the desk worn to a smooth curve by the thousands of nervous hands nervously playing with the edges as a nervous youth sat, much like Regulus today, across from the most powerful man in the school. And, Regulus reflected, one of the most powerful men in the world.
"You do know why you're here, don't you Regulus?" rang the voice again. It sent chills down the boy's spine. He didn't know how to answer.
Well – I might have my suspicions, he thought. But to know? Knowing anything for certain is impossible.
Dumbledore carried onward, sensing Regulus's hesitation. "I have a report here from the hospital wing, which states that on April 14 an unconsious Ms. Dorcas Meadowes was admitted with a near fatal wound. I understand that you were the party to assist Ms. Meadowes' arrival."
"Yes, sir, I was."
"Ah. Thank you, Regulus." The ominous sound of shuffling papers accompanied the answer.
"I didn't do it though, sir. I didn't have any part in the – uh - "
"Regulus, I know. It's been confirmed it was a self-inflicted wound. However, the circumstances surrounding the actual infliction of the wound appear somewhat murky. I was hoping you might be able to enlighten me."
"About – what she did to herself?"
"If that is helpful."
"Well, I don't know how she did it. I just found her." This was not a lie. In fact, it was entirely the truth.
Dumbledore pushed his spectacles up, leaned forward and looked Regulus in the eyes. "I don't know if you understand the importance of this information. I need to know exactly how you came to be the one to find her and, frankly, save her life. You are a sharp boy. You know this as well as I. But as it stands, even if this story contains – uncomfortable details – I need you to lay out the facts for me. Dorcas's life might depend on the matter."
He let the words fill the air. "Let me repeat. Dorcas's life might depend on the matter. I need to know what you did on April 14."
Regulus's mind went blank. And then, one thought:
Shit.
Fifteen minutes later, Regulus walked calmly down the stairs and down a hallway. As soon as he turned the corner, he broke into a run. Dumbledore must know that he was lying. It would only be a matter of time before he would find out the truth. Regulus had to hide the book for Dorcas and make it appear no one had ever spent time down by the Perfect Tree. Then he would write a letter to Dorcas and tell her the "official" story. And hope it's what she would tell her parents.
He had to do it quickly. He had plans tonight.