#veritaserum

[digitkame]

“…vVeriTaSerum…”

*spoken in dramatic hissing voice*🌚

———

PRINT available

[managone16]

Marauders playing Never have I ever part 4: (With Veritaserum) Lily: Never have I ever—gotten married!! *Dorcas, Marlene, Remus and Sirius all drink* Marlene: Boo you whore. *Regulus and James looking at each other before drinking* Everyone: *dead silent* Suddenly, they explode. Sirius: WHAT. Dorcas: Oh my fucking god. Marlene: Merlin’s saggy tits. Evan: Since WHEN?? Regulus, rolling his eyes: Since april. Regulus: Seriously guys we’ve been dating since 5th year. Regulus: We literally cuddle with each other in front you guys? Sirius: Well- Regulus: We live together.

[heartoftheserpent]

Veritaserum, Legilimency, and the DMLE

One of the most frustrating things in the HP canon is that they have access to a fantastic and essentially PERFECT truth potion, as far as we know.

Some additional information:

Sirius was sent to Azkaban without trial, and this is mentioned in the same book that introduces us to Veritaserum.

While Veritaserum is obviously difficult to make (Snape is the only person we know of who makes it, Umbridge doesn't seem like she has any other options to get it), we have no information that it's prohibitively expensive, impossible, or volatile/dangerous to make

One thought is that maybe the potion is dangerous to take, so it would be like a Victim's Rights Advocacy thing to get it banned from trials, because you can't force someone to incriminate themselves...but this does not seem to be something the wizarding world is concerned with.

In Half-Blood Prince, Albus says that when Morfin Gaunt was prosecuted for murder, there was no NEED for Veritaserum or Legilimency, since he confessed. This makes it seem like those were considered a real option!

So if that was an OPTION in the 1940s, why wouldn't Sirius be able to demand that?

For that matter, why isn't that an option at the end of Prisoner of Azkaban?

My postulation is that it depends on who's in control of the DMLE at the time - and who they think counts as "trustworthy."

At the end of Prisoner of Azkaban, even though Sirius says he's innocent and there are three other witnesses to Pettigrew being alive, Albus insists no one will listen to them, because Harry and Hermione are underage ("the word of two thirteen-year-old wizards will not convince anyone"), and Remus is a werewolf ("werewolves are so mistrusted by most of our own kind that his support will count for very little"). There's no need for that kind of qualification if you have access to Veritaserum. There's no evidence that Veritaserum doesn't work on children, or on werewolves.

So if they allow Veritaserum to be used in trials, they would have to accept that everyone's word is worth just as much as everyone else's. And they don't want that. This administration puts more weight on certain people's opinions than others. They wouldn't be able to preserve that power if they were seeking objective truth.

[darkgreeninked]

Ask Me Again After Class

Hogwarts’ unapologetic Slytherin royal couple get paired for a Veritaserum exercise. What should be a harmless class turns into seductive mind games, sharp confessions, and tension thick enough to cut with a wand.

WORDS: 2,750–2,900 word

MASTERLIST

At last, the moment had arrived. To everyone’s surprise, Slughorn had finally given in to the students’ persistent requests to brew a particular potion. It hadn’t been part of the official curriculum, but the excitement that had spread through the classroom had been enough to convince him.

Veritaserum.

After reading about it in every kind of book and newspaper, none of them could wait to begin brewing the miraculous concoction that wiped away every doubt or hesitation when it came to “truth.”

Once everyone had completed the preparation, Slughorn clapped his hands a few times to draw attention and rubbed them together with enthusiasm.

The students moved away from their cauldrons, and Ramona crossed her legs on her desk, while the familiar scent of potions and extinguished flames spread through the classroom.

“You all have your small dose of freshly brewed Veritaserum in front of you, ready to be tested! …Of course, what I haven’t told you yet is how we’ll be testing it!”

Slughorn’s eyes sparkled as he looked around, clearly enjoying the reactions of the students, who had already started whispering nervously.

“Well, it won’t be on yourselves, but on one of your classmates. But don’t worry…” he added, raising a pacifying hand as some students exchanged frightened and uneasy glances.

“I’ve already formed the pairs you’ll be working in, and I promise none of you are paired with your worst enemy. We wouldn’t want to ruin friendships or create scandals in your final year, now would we?”

Then, with a mischievous smile, he added:

“Well… let’s hope not.”

A piece of chalk began scribbling noisily across the blackboard on its own, making a neat list of names appear.

Granger – BrownPotter – WeasleyGoyle – CrabbeNott – Zabini

When Malfoy – Grimsby finally appeared on the board, Draco and Ramona exchanged a knowing, amused glance.

“Slughorn’s got it in for you, Draco” Theodore chuckled, shooting Ramona a smirk. “A Veritaserum session with your girlfriend is lethal…” “Not as lethal as pairing Granger and Brown” Draco muttered with a hint of sarcasm, nodding toward the fiery glares Hermione and Lavender were already exchanging across the room.

Ramona laughed along with the others, and as Draco approached the desk to return to his seat, she tugged lightly on his tie, pulling him closer to her ear.

“Looks like it’s going to be a fun afternoon, love… I’ve already got a couple questions in mind for you.”

Draco stared at her for a moment, amused by the mischief curling on her lips. But before he could reply, Slughorn’s stern voice rang through the room.

“Miss Grimsby, for heaven’s sake! This is a classroom, not a private corner!” he snapped, visibly annoyed. “Take your seats and behave like students… Oh, I should’ve paired you with Mr. Potter instead, that’s what I should’ve done.”

“Yeah… I don’t think so” Draco said venomously, not bothering to lower his voice.

Ramona slowly let go of Draco’s tie, returning to her seat with an innocent look that fooled no one. For some strange reason, Potions always seemed to bring out the best in her, at least when it came to teasing Draco.

“Be a good girl, Ray” Draco murmured into her ear before taking his seat across from her.

Ramona simply bit her lip, then grabbed the ladle with a lazy gesture and dipped it into the cauldron in front of her. She let the liquid drip into a bronze goblet, and Draco did the same.

They exchanged a mock toast and a sly smile that revealed just how aware they were of the potential disaster they were about to unleash.

In one swift gulp, the viscous liquid slid down their throats, leaving behind a bitter, metallic aftertaste.

Ramona coughed lightly, swallowing to get rid of the unpleasant taste, while a warm sensation began to spread from her throat to her chest. Draco blinked a few times, feeling the same warmth spreading under his skin. His hands, usually so steady, started to tingle slightly.

“I love the Christmas presents your mother gives me” Draco said, licking his lips. “Hmm, no… I can still lie. You must’ve messed something up” he added after a moment, setting the goblet down.

Ramona raised an eyebrow, but before she could respond, Slughorn’s familiar voice interrupted them from behind.

“Nothing’s wrong, Mr. Malfoy” he interjected calmly, though a glint of amusement sparkled in his eyes. “The potion takes a few minutes to kick in… and when it does, believe me, you’ll know.”

Slughorn watched them for another moment, then added with an impish smile: “I paired you two together trusting in your… relationship as a couple. And also because I didn’t trust either of you with anyone else. And please.. don't be too...intrusive" he added as he moved to the next table. “When have I ever been intrusive?” Ramona sighed, shrugging.

From the next table, Pansy let out a snort of laughter.

Blaise muttered a “Good luck” to Draco before snapping his gaze toward Theodore.

“Their potion’s already working” Draco murmured, watching Blaise laugh at something Theodore had whispered. Then both of them turned toward him. Or rather, not exactly toward him.

“Oh, I don’t even want to know what Theodore just said.” “Probably something about offering me a shoulder to cry on when you reveal all your dirty secrets” Ramona muttered, glancing the same way and drumming her fingers on the desk.

She felt her temples pulsing slightly and the warmth in her throat rising, clear signs their potion was beginning to take effect.

Draco smirked faintly, studying her face as if analyzing every flicker of emotion. “And would you cry on Theo’s shoulder, Ray?” he asked slowly, every word sharpened like a blade.

Ramona turned to face him, lips parting slightly as her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She could feel the Veritaserum coursing through her, an invisible grip making it impossible to lie, even if she wanted to. And Draco had noticed.

A smirk spread across his face, and Ramona realized, in that moment, just how dirty he planned to play.

“Hmm… not a fan of Theo’s shoulders, to be honest…” “Oh, no?” he raised an eyebrow. “Then what do you like?”

Ramona felt a flush of heat bloom in her stomach. The potion was betraying her, dragging thoughts to the surface she would’ve rather kept buried. She tried to keep control, but resistance was slipping.

“Your hands” she said finally, the words disarmingly sincere as her gaze dropped involuntarily to Draco’s hand resting just inches from hers on the desk. “When you touch me… and hold me down.”

Draco stiffened for a moment, his smirk replaced by a frustrated look.

If he had played dirty, Ramona had no intention of holding back either. She licked her lips slightly, eyes locked on his, knowing it was now his turn in the hot seat.

“Ready?” she asked with a playful smile, tilting her head.

Draco gave a challenging nod, and Ramona took a beat, as if evaluating her options.

“When did you know you wanted to be with me?”

Draco gave a small smile, as if surprised by how simple the question was.

“Third year” he answered quickly. “During a Quidditch match. You were in the stands and…” Draco paused, as if making sure not to leave out any detail. “…I think you made Potter’s cloak levitate behind him on his broom.”

Ramona let out a clear, crystalline laugh.

“Oh, McGonagall kicked me out of the pitch for that…” she added “I think Potter fainted, thought it was a Dementor or something…”

Ramona ran a hand through her hair, tucking a lock behind her ear, then narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“Wait a second” she said thoughtfully. “We’d already been dating for months when that match happened… before that, what... you weren’t sure? Or… were you considering other options?”

Draco bit the inside of his cheek. He knew it wasn’t going to be an easy question.

“I was… considering other options” he confessed against his will, his voice almost irritated by the Veritaserum forcing him to spill the truth.

Ramona tensed for a moment, then tilted her head slightly, taking in a breath to stop herself from exploding.

“Such as…?” she asked with apparent calm, but Draco raised a hand to stop her.

“It’s my turn to ask...”

“What other options, Draco?” she insisted, and the potion prevented him from changing the subject.

He couldn’t lie. He couldn’t redirect the conversation. He sighed.

“Pansy… Daphne… Astoria…”

Ramona stopped drumming her fingers, her hands now still on the desk. She didn’t speak immediately, knowing her first reaction would be too impulsive, too explosive. She took a deep breath, as if silently counting to ten.

“Pansy, Daphne, and Astoria” she repeated slowly, letting each name brand itself into her mind. “How far exactly did you explore these options?” she asked, and Draco couldn’t help but laugh.

Very few things genuinely amused him. But watching jealousy burn in Ramona’s cerulean eyes was one of them.

“What exactly are you asking me, Grimsby?” he said, eyeing her like she was his favorite pastime.

“What do you think?” she shot back flatly, not a hint of humor on her face.

Draco slowly licked his lower lip, as though weighing his words carefully, but he knew he couldn’t play games. Not under Veritaserum.

“Pansy and Daphne, I never touched, and you know it” he said, his tone tired, as if the answer was self-evident. “You live with them, for Merlin’s sake. If anything had ever happened, you'd have known the same night.”

Ramona didn’t reply right away, but the way she tilted her head made it clear she wasn’t satisfied.

“And Astoria?”

Draco rolled his eyes, like the question was far too ridiculous to even deserve an answer.

“Ramona, she was twelve. The most we ever did was go to Honeydukes to buy sweets.”

Ramona barely parted her lips, but her stern expression didn’t fade.

“I know for a fact I wasn’t the first girl you slept with, Draco. So… who...”

Draco raised a finger dramatically, cutting her off before she could finish the sentence.

“Ah, ah! My turn” he said with a satisfied little smirk, while Ramona bit her lip in frustration.

Slowly, Draco leaned back on the desk and fixed his gaze on her, sharp and deliberate, ready to strike where it would land hardest.

“How many times have you thought about cheating on me with Nott?”

Ramona pressed her lips together, the flush on her cheeks deepening as she felt the Veritaserum keeping her from dodging the question. There was no way out. Not this time. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again and rolled her eyes.

“Never” she finally said.

But then she raised her eyes to him, a flicker of defiance in her gaze.

“Not for the pleasure of doing it, at least… But I’ve thought about it countless times just to make you jealous.”

Draco stared at her for a moment, surprised by the answer. Then, slowly, a smirk crept back onto his lips.

“Shame I always knew you were doing it on purpose” he said, letting his eyes fall lazily to her lips. “You bat your lashes when you talk to others… with me, you barely blink. Like you’re too caught up to even remember to breathe.”

He bit his lip as if this whole conversation was truly making it hard for him to keep it together in class.

Ramona tilted her head slightly, her expression somewhere between amused and provocative. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“Oh, am I making things difficult for you, Malfoy?” she whispered, leaning forward slightly, her elbow resting on the desk, chin propped in her hand.

Under the desk, Ramona had slipped off one shoe, and Draco felt the pressure of her foot between his already tense legs.

“I do hope you two are sticking to academic questions, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Grimsby!” came Slughorn’s voice suddenly, making them both jump.

Ramona quickly pulled her leg back and Draco straightened up in his chair with casual composure.

“I was just asking her what her favorite part of the last lesson was, Professor” Draco replied with a flawless little smile, and Ramona bit her tongue, squinting slightly.

Slughorn eyed them for a few seconds, as if judging whether or not to believe him, but eventually gave a nod and moved on.

“…Last lesson, you said...Hmm, I’m rather torn between you slipping two fingers between my legs or begging me to leave class before the bell” Ramona murmured sweetly once Slughorn was out of earshot, biting a fingernail lightly.

“Ramona… for Merlin’s sake…” Draco began, running a hand over his face, and Ramona couldn’t suppress a smirk.

“If you keep this up, we’ll be scrubbing cauldrons in detention until graduation.” “Not my fault if Veritaserum makes me more creative” she replied, her fingers playing with the rim of her goblet still on the desk.

Draco brought a hand to his mouth to hide a crooked smile and took a deep breath. He was on the edge.

“Your turn… and be gentle” he said, the ghost of a smile already forming.

Ramona looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then back at him thoughtfully.

“Did you… consider any more options?” she asked at last, her tone lighter than the weight of the question suggested.

“No” Draco answered without a second’s hesitation. Then leaned back in his chair, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You’re a sociopath with delusions of grandeur, poor impulse control, a quick wand, and an unhealthy obsession with me” he added, his lips curving into a grin. “Why would I go looking elsewhere and risk to have you sent to Azkaban?”

Ramona leaned in slightly, smiling wide.

“You really need to stop complimenting me like this, Malfoy, or I’m going to get a big head.”

Draco leaned in just a touch, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“Oh, that head’s already swollen beyond help, Grimsby” he said, amused but genuinely fond.

Ramona rested her face in her hands, her eyes half-closed, lips curling into a smile. To the untrained eye, she might’ve seemed like the calmest, most smitten girl in the world. But Draco knew how to read her smiles.

“Back to the ‘shoulders’ conversation…” she began, her voice velvety with a touch of mischief. “The moment we get out of here, my legs will be very well-positioned… over your shoulders.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, his crooked grin returning as if he could already picture it.

“Hate to break it to you, Grimsby, but I don’t think you’ll have any authority over what your legs do once we leave this room.”

[astrarium-angel]

A Bitter Draught of Honesty

The dungeon was restless.

Not loud, exactly—not yet—but full of the kind of shifting, scraping, low-grade chaos that meant the lesson had already been lost before it had even properly begun. Cauldrons simmered with uneven heat. Glass vials clicked against stone worktops. Someone near the back was repeatedly tapping a spoon against the rim of a mortar like a death march. The air was thick with the bitter, herbaceous tang of crushed dittany, the sharp sting of alcohol from freshly uncorked tinctures, and something sweeter underneath it all—some floral note from the pale silver potion steaming in every cauldron across the room.

Slughorn stood at the front in all his velveted, moustached irritation, pretending with admirable commitment that he was not, in fact, one second away from snapping.

“Class,” he said for the fourth time in as many minutes, in the tone of a man trying very hard to sound genial while internally planning several funerals, “if you continue to stir as though you are churning butter in a barn, the potion will be ruined.”

A beat.

Then James Potter snorted.

Sirius Black dropped his forehead dramatically onto the desk.

Peter Pettigrew wheezed laughter into his sleeve.

And Remus Lupin, who at least had the decency to look mildly apologetic, kept his eyes fixed on his cauldron and said, “He means you, you know.”

“I think,” said James, flicking his spoon lazily through the potion, “he means all of us. Equality.”

“Very noble,” Sirius murmured, not lifting his head. “A true man of the people.”

Across the room, Lily Evans shut her eyes for one long, exhausted moment.

Mary Macdonald leaned against Marlene McKinnon’s shoulder and whispered, “Ten galleons says Slughorn finally kills one of them today.”

“Only ten?” Marlene asked. “Coward.”

Near the Slytherin table, Barty Crouch Jr. was sitting half-sideways in his seat with the kind of sharp, entertained stillness that meant he was fully awake now. Evan Rosier lounged beside him, all careless posture and watchful eyes. Pandora Rosier was doodling something in the corner of her parchment that looked suspiciously like Slughorn with bat wings. Dorcas Meadowes, sitting nearby with her chin in one hand, looked like she’d already decided this lesson was a write-off and had made peace with that.

Regulus Black, two seats down, was actually brewing properly.

Of course he was.

His sleeves were rolled just enough to keep them clear of the work, dark hair falling slightly forward as he bent over the cauldron, expression cool and distant and so infuriatingly composed that it made half the room look even more unruly by comparison. He moved with quiet precision, long fingers steady on the ladle, eyes fixed on the slow silver whirlpool in the potion as though the rest of the class simply did not exist.

Which, in fairness, to Regulus, it probably didn’t.

Slughorn’s eyes swept the room once more and landed, with the inevitability of a curse, on the Marauders.

He inhaled.

Smiled.

And that was far more frightening than if he’d shouted.

“Well,” he said warmly, “since Mr Potter and Mr Black seem to believe themselves so entertaining, perhaps we might put that energy to productive use.”

James straightened at once. “Professor, I’d love to help, obviously, but I’m really more of a behind-the-scenes artistic mind.”

“Terrible stage fright,” Sirius added solemnly. “Tragic, honestly.”

Peter shot up a hand so fast he nearly smacked himself in the face. “I’m allergic.”

Slughorn blinked. “Allergic.”

“Yes, sir.”

“To what, exactly?”

Peter glanced at the board, where the ingredient list for Veritaserum Practice Draft Version Three was still written in chalk.

“…moonseed.”

Pandora made a choked sound that might have been a laugh.

Slughorn folded his hands over his stomach and regarded Peter with the expression of a man staring at a particularly stupid hat. “Mr Pettigrew. There is no moonseed in this potion.”

Peter paused. “Then… that other thing.”

“Powdered sage?”

“Yes.”

“You are not allergic to sage.”

Peter wilted. “No, sir.”

“Thought not.”

Slughorn’s smile sharpened. “Then perhaps Mr Lupin will do us the honour, since he is the only one at that table who occasionally behaves like he has been raised by civilisation.”

The entire room turned.

Remus looked up slowly.

“No,” he said.

Slughorn clasped his hands tighter. “Yes.”

“Professor—”

“Mr Lupin.”

James sat up immediately. “Actually, I volunteer as tribute.”

“You do not.”

Sirius pointed across the room. “Can’t we use Snivellus?”

“No,” said Slughorn.

“Barty, then?” James suggested. “He looks medically unwell enough to survive it.”

“I’d ask what that means,” Barty drawled, “but I don’t respect your opinion enough to bother.”

Remus turned to his friends with betrayal written all over his face. “Help me.”

James gave him a solemn pat on the shoulder. “You’re the bravest of us.”

Sirius nodded. “The most expendable.”

Peter whispered, “I’ll miss you.”

“You are all horrific,” Remus muttered.

But Slughorn was already beckoning him forward.

“Come along, come along. It’s only a demonstration.”

“That is never a reassuring sentence,” Remus said darkly, pushing back his chair.

He made his way to the front through an immediate storm of interest. Heads lifted. Elbows planted. Even people who had been half-asleep moments earlier were suddenly wide awake. A lesson involving one of the Marauders being forcibly dosed with a truth potion was, quite frankly, the best thing that had happened to this class all term.

Remus stopped beside Slughorn’s desk and eyed the small crystal vial set there like it personally offended him.

“It’s a controlled classroom batch,” Slughorn said. “Mild. Temporary. Quite safe.”

“Wonderful,” Remus said. “That really eases my spirit.”

“Drink.”

Remus took the vial, glanced back once at his table—James grinning, Sirius already vibrating with the anticipation of violence, Peter trying not to look delighted—and then, with the air of a man stepping off a cliff, tipped the potion back and swallowed.

The room went dead quiet.

Remus grimaced. “That is vile.”

Slughorn looked pleased. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three.”

“What is your name?”

“Remus John Lupin.”

“Your house?”

“Gryffindor.”

“Are you presently in my Potions class?”

Remus stared at him. “Unfortunately.”

A ripple of laughter broke across the room.

Slughorn’s moustache twitched. “Do you feel compelled to answer truthfully?”

“Yes.”

“Can you lie?”

“No.”

“Excellent.”

That one word changed everything.

The class straightened like wolves hearing a dinner bell ring.

Slughorn turned slowly to face them all, hands spread in gracious invitation. “Since the potion is clearly effective, we may as well turn this into an educational experience. You may each ask a question.”

For one dazzling second there was silence.

Then the room erupted.

“Oh, this is beautiful,” Sirius whispered.

James was on his feet so fast his stool tipped over backwards.

Mary slapped both hands over her mouth and then failed completely to contain her grin.

Marlene actually pounded the desk once with delight.

Alice Fortescue sat up straighter, eyes bright. Frank Longbottom leaned in at once, already laughing. Fabian and Gideon Prewett exchanged the exact same dangerous expression that meant everyone nearby should brace themselves. Lily folded her arms, but she was smiling despite herself.

At the Slytherin side, Barty looked almost reverent. Pandora dropped her quill entirely. Dorcas turned fully in her seat. Evan, who had thus far affected the lazy boredom of a man above all this, was now openly interested.

Regulus glanced up from his parchment.

Only once.

Only briefly.

But he looked.

And that alone felt like the opening crack in a dam.

James raised both hands. “Me first.”

“Of course,” Remus said flatly.

James beamed. “What is the most humiliating thing Sirius has ever done?”

Sirius gasped. “Traitor.”

Remus answered instantly. “He once spent three straight hours trying to look seductive in a mirror after a fifth-year Hogsmeade trip because a waitress called him pretty.”

The class screamed.

Sirius clutched at his chest. “That is slander.”

“It’s not slander if it happened.”

“You swore never to speak of that.”

“You made finger guns at your own reflection.”

Marlene nearly slid off her stool laughing. Mary was fully bent over the table. Fabian slapped Gideon’s arm hard enough to make the vial rack shake.

James was wiping tears from his face. “Oh, that is monstrous. That is the best day of my life.”

Sirius pointed at Remus with righteous fury. “You are dead to me.”

“Ask another one,” Peter pleaded. “Ask another.”

Lily raised her hand with eerie calm. “What is the stupidest thing James has ever done for attention?”

James turned to her, horrified. “Evans.”

Remus didn’t even hesitate. “Second year. He tried to fake a mysterious curse scar because he thought it would make him look dangerous.”

The dungeon exploded.

“No!” James shouted.

“Yes,” Remus said. “He scratched his own shoulder with a quill, then spent all day leaning dramatically against walls.”

“I was twelve!”

“You called it your burden.”

Peter folded over onto the desk, cackling. Sirius was making a sound like a dying engine.

Lily put both hands over her face, laughing helplessly. “Oh my God.”

Slughorn, to his credit, had stopped pretending this was educational and was now just enjoying himself.

Gideon raised a hand without waiting to be called on. “What about Peter?”

Peter froze. “No.”

Fabian grinned. “Yeah. What about Peter?”

Remus sighed through his nose. “Peter cries when dogs in books die.”

“A lot of people cry when dogs die in books!” Peter yelped.

“He cried at a painting once.”

“It looked sad!”

“It was a bowl of fruit.”

The room lost it again.

Pandora had tears in her eyes. Barty was laughing hard enough that he’d gone silent, which was somehow worse. Dorcas put her head down on the desk. Even Regulus’s mouth had shifted very slightly at one corner, not quite a smile but close enough that Sirius saw it and nearly lost his mind from triumph.

“Again,” Sirius demanded, wiping his eyes. “Tell us something about Moony.”

Remus went still.

The class noticed.

And the mood changed at once—not darker, exactly, but sharper. More intent. More predatory.

Because this was the good part now.

Mary leaned forward. “What’s the most embarrassing thing about you?”

Remus stared at the opposite wall. “There are so many.”

“Pick one,” said Marlene gleefully.

Remus exhaled. “I once wrote an entire page of notes in the margin of a library book because I forgot it wasn’t mine.”

“That’s not embarrassing,” Alice protested. “That’s deeply on brand.”

“Another one,” James said at once. “A worse one.”

Remus closed his eyes. “I rehearse conversations in advance.”

“That’s adorable,” Lily said.

“I rehearse arguments I lost three years ago and win them in the bath.”

The laughter came easier that time, warm and immediate.

But Fabian, sensing blood, leaned over the table and said, “No, no, no. Real embarrassment. Something scandalous.”

“Yes,” Barty purred from the Slytherin side. “Do keep up, Lupin.”

Remus looked actively miserable now.

And that only made everyone lean closer.

Frank rested his chin on his hand. “All right. Have you ever fancied someone in this room?”

Dead silence.

James slowly turned.

Sirius slowly turned.

Peter made a strangled little noise.

Remus said, with the doomed calm of a man watching his own execution, “Yes.”

The dungeon detonated.

“No way!”

“Who?”

“Tell us!”

“Holy shit—”

Slughorn half-heartedly raised a hand. “One at a time, one at a time—”

“Who is it?” Sirius demanded immediately, standing.

Remus did not answer.

Because he did not have to.

Because every eye in the room had already found somewhere to land.

Somewhere dark-haired and composed and sitting very still at the Slytherin table.

Regulus, to his enormous credit, did not visibly react for a full two seconds.

Then Barty made the softest, most delighted sound anyone had ever heard.

“Oh,” he said.

Pandora slapped a hand over her mouth.

Dorcas turned so sharply to stare at Regulus it was a wonder she didn’t wrench her neck.

Evan’s brows lifted by a fraction.

James looked between Remus and Regulus like he’d just been handed the meaning of life.

Sirius, meanwhile, went through six separate emotions in the span of one breath—shock, disbelief, offence, delight, outrage, and something perilously close to hysterical joy.

“You,” Sirius said to Remus, voice cracking, “have a crush on Regulus?”

Remus stared at the ceiling. “Yes.”

The screaming started.

Actual screaming.

Marlene slammed both palms on the desk. Mary was doubled over. Fabian had fallen sideways into Gideon. Alice was choking on her own laughter while Frank thumped her back uselessly because he could not stop laughing either. Peter had both hands over his face. James was making wild, incoherent gestures at absolutely everyone.

Sirius looked ready to ascend.

“My brother?” he cried. “My baby brother? My horrible little snake of a brother?”

“Do not call me that in public,” Regulus said coldly, finally speaking.

That only made it worse.

“Remus,” James gasped, gripping the edge of the desk for support, “since when?”

Remus swallowed. “A while.”

“A while how long?” Lily asked, eyes alight.

“Since last year.”

Pandora made a shriek so sharp it could have cut glass.

Barty clapped once, delighted. “This is the best day of my life.”

Slughorn was openly fascinated now. “Well, Mr Lupin, perhaps you ought to be more specific.”

Remus laughed once, hollow and humourless. “You are all evil.”

“Specific,” the room chanted.

“Specific.”

“Specific!”

Remus squeezed his eyes shut.

Then opened them.

And because the potion would not let him stop, because there was no refuge left, because every secret he’d carefully kept folded away was now being pried open in front of half the school—

He said, hoarsely, “It’s not just a crush.”

Another stunned beat.

Then James, very softly, “Oh, no.”

Remus kept going.

“It’s worse than that.”

Sirius put both hands over his mouth.

Remus spoke like every word physically pained him. “I’m a little obsessed with him.”

The class erupted again.

Regulus went utterly motionless.

Barty had stopped laughing now—not because he wasn’t entertained, but because this had become too interesting to interrupt.

“What do you mean,” Dorcas said, with terrible calm, “a little obsessed?”

Remus dragged a hand over his face. “I mean exactly what it sounds like.”

“No, no,” Mary said, almost breathless. “Explain.”

“Please,” Marlene begged.

“Expound,” Gideon said grandly.

Fabian pointed dramatically. “Tell the court everything.”

Remus groaned like a man in active prayer for death. “I notice him all the time.”

Regulus’s gaze was on him now.

Not amused.

Not flustered.

Just fixed, unreadable, dark and sharp as a blade left in velvet.

It was somehow worse than if he’d looked angry.

Remus swallowed and kept talking.

“I know when he’s in a room even if I’m not looking at him first. I know the sound of his footsteps in the corridor. I know when he’s had a bad day because he goes quieter than usual. I know when he’s irritated because the left side of his mouth twitches. I know he acts like he doesn’t care what anyone thinks, but he always tightens his grip on his books when people stare too long.”

The room had gone quieter now—not silent, not with this many people packed into one dungeon, but quieter. The laughter was still there, but softened by attention.

Even Slughorn did not interrupt.

Remus let out a shaky breath. “I know he wears baggy clothes all the time, and I know that makes most people underestimate him.”

Regulus’s expression flickered.

Only once.

Sirius lowered his hands from his face. James stared at Remus like he’d never seen him before in his life.

And because fate was cruel, because truth was crueler, Mary said gently, “What happened?”

Remus looked at her. “What?”

“You said you know he wears baggy clothes. You said most people don’t know what he looks like. So what happened?”

The dungeon leaned in as one.

Even the potion bubbling in the cauldrons seemed quieter.

Remus’s ears went red.

Slowly. Visibly.

“Oh, hell,” Sirius whispered.

Remus laughed once without joy. “It was an accident.”

Pandora made the tiniest delighted gasp.

“What was?” James asked.

Remus did not answer.

So Barty did.

“The seeing,” he said, smiling like a knife.

Remus looked like he wanted the floor to split open and claim him.

“It was an accident,” he repeated.

“Remus,” Lily said, voice dangerously calm, “what did you see?”

He stared at her in mute despair.

Then, because the potion held him by the throat, he said it.

“I saw his waist.”

The noise that left the class barely qualified as human.

Sirius folded over the desk like he’d been shot.

James shrieked.

Peter made a wheezing sound so violent Frank had to steady him.

Marlene actually slapped the tabletop hard enough to rattle everyone’s ingredients.

Regulus did not move.

Not a muscle.

But Evan turned to look at him now with a kind of slow, sidelong interest, as though the next five minutes promised to be extremely worth living through.

Remus was bright red.

“It was an accident,” he said again, absolutely to no one’s sympathy. “I walked into the hospital wing one evening because Madam Pomfrey had asked me to drop off a book, and the curtain around one of the beds wasn’t fully shut, and he was there, and he was changing his shirt, and I only looked for a second—”

“A second?” Fabian repeated.

Remus’s eyes closed. “Fine. Longer than a second.”

Laughter burst again.

James was openly crying now. “Moony, no.”

Remus ignored him with the bravery of the truly damned. “He always wears oversized jumpers, or robes, or layers, and I had never— I mean, I knew he was slim, obviously, but I had never actually seen—”

He broke off, swallowed, then forced himself onward.

“His stomach.”

Regulus’s fingers tightened around the stem of his spoon.

“His waist.”

A stunned little hush.

Remus’s voice got lower. Rougher.

“Small. Slim. Properly cinched.”

Nobody breathed.

“He had these sharp hip bones,” Remus said, staring at the floor now as if it might still save him, “and long legs, and I could see the line of him properly for the first time and I have literally not stopped thinking about it since.”

The dungeon went mad.

People were shouting over each other now, half scandalised, half ecstatic.

“Merlin above—”

“He said hip bones—”

“Remus!”

“You are finished!”

Sirius was laughing so hard he could barely remain upright. “My God. My God. You’re foul.”

James had both hands on his head. “This is unbelievable. This is transcendent. This is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Mary was gasping for air. Marlene was pounding her fist on the desk in a broken rhythm. Alice had tears streaming down her face. Frank was fully red with it. Fabian and Gideon looked like they wanted this moment preserved in stained glass.

At the Slytherin table, Pandora had her face buried in her arms, shoulders shaking. Dorcas was staring between Remus and Regulus with naked fascination. Barty looked lit from within.

Evan alone looked almost thoughtful.

Regulus sat perfectly straight.

Too straight.

His face unreadable.

His ears, however, had gone the faintest shade pink.

Remus, to his horror, kept speaking.

“It was like a religious experience.”

That did it.

The room dissolved again.

James was folded in half.

Sirius clutched at his own throat, choking on laughter.

“Religious?” Peter squeaked.

Remus covered his face with one hand. “Yes.”

“Explain,” Barty said immediately.

Remus dropped his hand and glared at him with tragic fury. “It was awful.”

“That is not an explanation,” Dorcas said.

“It felt,” Remus said through gritted teeth, “like God himself had singled me out for torment.”

Pandora hit the desk with both palms and howled.

Remus forged on, because he had no choice, because every instinct to stop was now irrelevant. “I saw that waist for maybe ten seconds, and it has haunted me ever since. Absolute nirvana. Horrific. I’ve been miserable for months.”

Sirius had gone silent with laughter again, which was somehow more unhinged than the noise.

James clutched at his shoulder. “Moony, mate—”

“No, let him finish,” said Marlene instantly.

“Oh, definitely let him finish,” said Fabian.

“Hands down,” Gideon agreed.

Lily, trying and failing to sound stern, said, “Remus. How bad is it?”

Remus looked at her.

Then said, with quiet devastation, “Very bad.”

“How bad?” Mary pressed.

He hesitated.

Then the potion yanked the truth out of him anyway.

“I think about grabbing him by the waist more often than is probably healthy.”

There was a split second of silence.

Then every single person in the room lost their mind.

Regulus blinked once.

Slowly.

Sirius physically sat down on the floor.

James had gone fully boneless against the desk.

Peter made the sign of the cross for reasons known only to him.

“What do you mean, grabbing him by the waist?” Frank demanded, half-laughing, half-yelling.

Remus’s whole face burned. “Exactly what it sounds like.”

“Remus,” Alice said, wiping at her eyes, “for the love of God.”

“I just—” He stopped, jaw tightening. “Every time I see him, I have the most deranged urge to put my hands there and pull him closer.”

The class made a collective sound somewhere between scandal and worship.

“Because he’s small,” Remus said helplessly, furious at himself, furious at the potion, furious at the room. “And I’m not.”

James stared. “That’s your reasoning?”

“It’s part of it!”

Pandora’s laugh came out strangled and bright.

Remus looked like he wished he’d died in infancy. “He’s just— he’s built in a way that makes me insane.”

Barty slowly put a hand over his heart. “What poetry.”

“Shut up,” Remus snapped.

“You can’t tell me to shut up while drugged into honesty,” Barty said cheerfully. “This is not how tyranny works.”

Slughorn, who really should have intervened by now and plainly had no intention of doing so, polished his spectacles and asked, “Would you care to elaborate on ‘built in a way that makes me insane,’ Mr Lupin?”

Remus turned to stare at him with naked betrayal. “Professor.”

Slughorn smiled blandly. “For the integrity of the demonstration.”

“You are a terrible educator.”

“Nevertheless?”

Remus made a noise deep in his throat and looked back out at the class.

At James, already dying.

At Sirius, flat on the floor and weeping with joy.

At Lily, who had given up all pretence of control.

At the Gryffindors, openly feral.

At the Slytherins, no better.

At Regulus—

Who was still watching him.

Still not looking away.

Remus’s voice went rougher.

“His whole frame is unfair.”

Nobody moved.

“He’s all sharp lines until he isn’t. Slim shoulders. Narrow waist. Long legs. He looks delicate until he doesn’t, and then you realise there’s something mean in the way he carries himself, and that makes it worse.”

The dungeon was a live wire.

Remus was no longer even speaking quickly now. He sounded resigned. Doomed. Like he knew he’d be replaying this humiliation for the rest of his natural life and had accepted it with bleak dignity.

“And yes,” he said, staring at a crack in the stone wall behind the Slytherin table, “I think about biting him sometimes.”

The class erupted so violently that one of the Ravenclaw girls at the back nearly fell off her stool.

Sirius let out a laugh so loud it echoed.

James was pounding the table now.

Peter had stopped pretending he was embarrassed for Remus and was fully enjoying himself.

Dorcas looked like Christmas had come early.

Pandora made a shocked little noise into both hands.

Evan finally smiled, small and sharp.

Regulus’s expression did not change.

Not much.

But one eyebrow lifted.

Just slightly.

And Remus saw it.

Which, tragically, made everything worse.

“Not in a murderous way,” Remus said at once, as though that helped. “In a—”

“In a what?” Fabian yelled.

“In a yearning way!” Remus shouted back, scandalised.

The roar of laughter was almost enough to shake dust from the ceiling.

James had collapsed into Lily’s shoulder. Even she had tears in her eyes now. Frank was bent over, clutching his ribs. Alice was trying and failing to breathe normally. Mary and Marlene looked half a second from full possession.

“Yearning,” Gideon repeated faintly.

“Oh, he is finished,” Marlene gasped.

Barty, with all the delighted evil in him, leaned forward on his elbows and asked the question that should never, under any circumstances, have been asked.

“What do you dream about?”

Remus froze.

The room froze with him.

Even James stopped laughing.

Because they all knew.

All of them.

They all knew this was going to be catastrophic.

“Don’t,” Remus said.

“I think,” Barty said softly, “that is an answer in itself.”

Pandora stared at Remus in horrified fascination. Sirius had risen halfway off the floor, hand over his heart, face lit with the kind of terrible joy only siblings could feel at each other’s ruin.

“Remus,” James whispered, reverent with dread.

Lily looked like she wanted to stop this and also absolutely did not want to stop this.

Regulus, for the first time all lesson, looked the faintest bit tense.

Remus’s hands clenched.

Then unclenched.

And the potion dragged him under.

“I have had dreams about him,” he said.

The class made a sound like a chapel full of sinners.

Remus stared fixedly ahead. “At night.”

Sirius shut his eyes and whispered, “No.”

“Yes,” said Remus miserably.

Mary pressed both hands to her cheeks. “Oh my God.”

Remus said, because the truth was merciless, “They are not innocent dreams.”

Absolute bedlam.

James shouted something incomprehensible. Peter actually stood up and then sat back down again because he had nowhere to put the energy. Fabian nearly throttled Gideon by accident in his excitement. Marlene was openly shrieking. Alice fell against Frank’s shoulder. Slughorn’s eyes gleamed with awful scholarly interest.

And across the room, Regulus was no longer pink at the ears.

He had gone properly, visibly flushed.

Only a little.

Only if one was looking.

But he had.

Remus looked like he wished a meteor would hit the dungeon.

Barty, because he was a menace upon the earth, asked sweetly, “About what, exactly?”

Remus laughed, once, in despair. “You know exactly about what.”

“Say it,” Pandora whispered.

Dorcas elbowed her without even looking away from the front.

Remus dragged a hand down his face. “About touching him. Pulling him close. Kissing him until he stops looking so composed.”

A wave of sound rolled through the room.

Sirius’s mouth fell open. “Remus John Lupin.”

James pointed a trembling finger at him. “You filthy liar. You’ve been secretly the worst of us this entire time.”

“That is untrue,” said Sirius.

“No, actually, I think it’s true,” said Lily.

Remus was beyond shame now. There was something almost eerie about it—the way embarrassment had peaked so violently it had become a strange, calm kind of ruin.

“And yes,” he said, voice hoarse, “sometimes when he walks past me, all I can think about is grabbing him by the waist and pulling him back.”

The room screamed again.

Regulus finally looked away.

Only for a second.

Only down at his desk.

But it happened.

And Evan noticed.

Barty noticed.

Pandora noticed.

Dorcas absolutely noticed.

So did Sirius, whose eyes widened with the speed of revelation.

“Oh, my God,” he said.

James turned. “What?”

Sirius was staring at his brother with religious intensity. “Nothing.”

Which, from Sirius Black, meant absolutely everything.

But before anyone could pin that down, Fabian shouted, “What else?”

“Yes!” Mary said. “More!”

“Enough,” Remus groaned.

“Absolutely not enough,” Marlene replied.

Alice raised a hand like this was still somehow civilised. “You said you think about his waist. Fine. You said his whole frame is unfair. Fine. Is there anything else?”

Remus should have lied.

He couldn’t.

He exhaled through his teeth and said, “His arse.”

For one stunned, glorious heartbeat, the room was silent.

Then the dungeon ceased to function as a learning environment entirely.

Sirius made a noise no human had ever made before.

James physically slid off the edge of the desk.

Peter clapped both hands over his face and bent double.

Lily was laughing too hard to even protest the word choice.

Frank slapped the table. Alice wheezed helplessly against him. Gideon fell into Fabian. Mary and Marlene were all but shrieking.

Pandora had simply given up and was lying flat across her table.

Barty was glowing.

Remus looked like a saint in a martyr painting.

“He has a cute arse,” he said into the chaos, because of course he did, because apparently his suffering was not yet complete.

Regulus went rigid.

“He’s tiny,” Remus said with sickening sincerity. “I know I could fit my whole hand over one cheek.”

The class lost every remaining shred of sanity.

Slughorn took one step back from the force of it.

Sirius sat on the floor again.

James was making helpless grabbing motions at the air.

“No,” Peter cried. “No, I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can,” Barty said, laughing. “And you will.”

Remus kept speaking, inexorable, unstoppable, the truth pouring out of him like blood from a wound.

“It’s the fact that he’s small and I’m bigger than him that makes it worse.”

“Oh, he said it again—”

“He said bigger—”

“Merlin save us—”

Remus’s voice cracked with fury. “It’s not my fault that’s hot.”

The response to that was pure anarchy.

Even Slughorn laughed outright.

Even some of the quieter students at the edges of the room, who hadn’t said a word all lesson, were now openly in hysterics.

And in the middle of it—at the very center of that storm—Regulus Black sat very still indeed, face composed with murderous effort, ears red, throat slightly flushed, eyes lowered to his notes as though he could will himself somewhere else by sheer concentration.

It did not work.

Because Sirius saw everything.

Sirius always saw everything about Regulus.

And a slow, wicked grin began to spread over his face.

“Oh,” he murmured.

James looked at him blearily through tears. “What?”

Sirius stood up.

Straightened his robes.

Turned.

And in a voice of pure brotherly menace, asked, “Regulus.”

The room snapped quiet at once.

Because this was new now.

This was dangerous.

Regulus lifted his gaze. “Don’t.”

“Do you,” Sirius said, smiling like the devil himself, “have any thoughts on this?”

Regulus stared at him.

At Remus.

At the entire room waiting like held breath.

And said, icy and precise, “Yes.”

The class leaned so far forward it was a miracle nobody toppled.

Sirius’s grin widened. “Go on.”

“No.”

“Coward.”

Regulus’s eyes narrowed. “Keep speaking and I’ll poison you in your sleep.”

“See?” James whispered to Remus in delight. “He does like you. That was practically flirting.”

“It was a threat,” Lily said.

“With chemistry,” James argued.

“With homicide,” Dorcas corrected.

Remus had gone so red he might actually combust.

But Sirius wasn’t done. Of course he wasn’t.

He folded his arms. “Do you object to being admired, little brother?”

Regulus’s mouth tightened.

Then, after one long second, he said, “I object to hearing about it in Potions.”

A fresh wave of chaos crashed over the room.

James shouted, “That’s not a no!”

Pandora sat up so fast she nearly knocked over her ink. “It is literally not a no!”

Barty pressed a hand to his chest again. “I’m going to frame this day.”

Evan, at last, spoke from where he lounged beside Regulus, voice smooth with amusement. “You’re blushing.”

Regulus turned to him with killing intent. “Die.”

“That’s a yes,” Barty sang.

“It is not.”

Dorcas, chin in her hand, looked Regulus over with maddening calm. “You’re not leaving.”

Regulus said nothing.

Which was the worst possible thing he could have done.

Because now everyone saw it.

The way he stayed seated.

The way he did not tell Remus to shut up.

The way his expression was controlled, yes, but not disgusted.

Not angry.

Just… shaken.

Interested, maybe.

Only maybe.

But maybe was enough to kill a room like this dead and then bring it roaring back to life.

Remus looked like he might pass out.

Sirius put both hands on his hips, glowing with infernal satisfaction. “This is better than Christmas.”

“You don’t even like Christmas,” Regulus said.

“I do now.”

Slughorn finally cleared his throat, though he sounded like a man reluctant to end a masterpiece. “Well. This has certainly been illuminating.”

“That is one word for it,” Lily muttered.

“I think,” Slughorn continued, moustache twitching, “we have perhaps extracted all the educational value possible from Mr Lupin’s current condition.”

“No!” half the class shouted immediately.

“Yes,” said Remus.

Slughorn ignored them both. “Five points to Gryffindor for… participation.”

“Only five?” James cried. “Professor, we’ve given you theatre.”

“You’ve given me a headache.”

He waved his wand, Summoned a goblet of water, and handed it to Remus, who drank it like a man trying to drown himself from the inside out.

The class was still buzzing, still laughing, still turning to one another in breathless disbelief.

Snatches of it broke loose all over the room.

“Did you hear him say hip bones—”

“Whole hand—”

“Yearning way—”

“Religious experience—”

“Not innocent dreams—”

Remus made a sound of profound, exhausted suffering and dropped his forehead onto the edge of Slughorn’s desk.

James strode up immediately and draped himself over Remus’s back. “Mate,” he said, voice wobbling with suppressed laughter, “I need you to know that I will never let this go.”

Sirius joined him a second later. “Never. Ever.”

Peter appeared at Remus’s side and patted his arm. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re smiling,” Remus said into the wood.

“I’m trying not to.”

“You’re failing.”

“Yes.”

When Remus finally lifted his head, he made the mistake of glancing across the room.

Straight at Regulus.

For half a second, everything else dimmed.

The noise, the laughter, the scraping stools, the hiss of potions over flame.

Just that look.

Regulus met his eyes.

And this time he did not look away first.

His face was still controlled. Still cool. Still impossible.

But there was colour in it now.

And something else.

Something sharp and unreadable and almost—almost—curious.

Then Barty leaned in to say something in his ear, Pandora hissed at Dorcas, James started laughing again beside him, Sirius was already plotting six months of psychological warfare, and the moment broke apart into noise.

But it had happened.

Remus had seen it.

And judging by the expression on Sirius’s face, so had he.

Slughorn clapped his hands sharply. “Back to your seats, all of you. If even one of these cauldrons is ruined while you gossip, I shall assign three feet of parchment on the ethics of veracity potions.”

There was a general groan.

Stools scraped.

Students rose.

The lesson attempted, bravely and without much hope, to become a lesson again.

Remus walked back to the Gryffindor table like a condemned man.

James was grinning so hard it looked painful.

Peter would not stop making tiny distressed noises every time their eyes met.

Sirius looked like he had swallowed the sun.

“I hate you all,” Remus said, sitting down heavily.

James clapped him on the shoulder. “Counterpoint: this is the greatest day in academic history.”

“I’m transferring schools,” Remus muttered.

“You can’t,” Sirius said. “You’re spiritually chained to this dungeon now.”

Peter leaned closer. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t know.”

“None of you knew,” Remus said bitterly.

James winced. “That part, admittedly, is true.”

Sirius propped his chin on one hand and looked far, far too delighted. “You do realise, obviously, that I’m going to watch both of you like a hawk now.”

“Please don’t say ‘both of you’ like that,” Remus said.

“Oh, no. Absolutely both of you.”

“Nothing happened,” Remus hissed.

Sirius arched a brow. “Nothing happened yet.”

Remus closed his eyes in pain.

At the Slytherin table, Barty was still talking. Pandora was still cackling softly every few seconds. Dorcas kept glancing between Regulus and the Gryffindor side with the open interest of someone following a particularly juicy serial. Evan had that same unreadable little smile still playing at the corner of his mouth.

And Regulus—

Regulus had gone back to his potion.

Mostly.

His hands were steady now.

His face composed.

But every now and then, against his will or perhaps because of it, his gaze flicked once—only once—toward the opposite side of the room.

Toward Remus.

And every single time, Sirius noticed.

So did James.

Eventually Lily did too, and then Mary, and then Marlene, and then Fabian and Gideon, and once that happened, the knowledge spread through the room like spilled ink.

Nobody said anything outright.

Not yet.

But the air had changed.

Potions resumed.

Quills scratched.

Flames hissed.

The silver draft in the cauldrons thickened and darkened by degrees.

And beneath all of that, something else simmered too—something meaner, sweeter, more dangerous.

The aftermath.

The talk that would follow in corridors and common rooms.

The weeks of merciless torment Remus would endure.

The weapons Sirius would fashion from every single word spoken today.

The way Barty would absolutely tell this story again with added dramatics.

The way Pandora would start saying “religious experience” at inappropriate moments for the rest of the year.

The way James would bring up “yearning way” until one of them died.

And underneath even that—

The quieter thing.

The look across the room.

The fact that Regulus Black had not denied anything that mattered.

Remus sat very still at his desk and stirred the potion far longer than necessary.

Beside him, Sirius leaned in and whispered, bright with wicked delight, “So. My brother’s waist, hm?”

Remus put his face in his hands.

James nearly choked laughing.

Across the dungeon, without looking up from his cauldron, Regulus said coolly, “If either of you says the word waist again, I’ll hex your tongues together.”

Sirius threw his head back and laughed.

And just like that, the dungeon exploded all over again.

[kricketwritesstories]

Veritaserum or Dare

A Hogwarts Legacy Fic

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow/MC; Sebastian Sallow/reader

Summary: You and a bunch of your friends are at Hogwarts during Christmas break. Garreth overhears you explaining the muggle game truth or dare and decides to “enhance” it like one of his potion experiments.

Hilarity and confessions ensue

“What afraid of the truth Gaunt,” Imelda taunted.

Ominis chuckled, “It’s not me, it’s the rest of you I fear for…but if it’s truth you guys want don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Before anyone could protest he had already downed the vial of veritaserum Imelda was holding out for him.

“Well now you will all see what I’ve had to deal with for 6 years,” Sebastian said smugly before he drank his vial. He grimaced, “Good luck to us all!”

The odd circle of friends gathered around the fire of the Slytherin common room look at one another with excitement and apprehension. It was Garreth who suggested Veritaserum or Dare after overhearing you explain truth or dare to Imelda, Natty, and Poppy. How he got everyone to agree - specifically Ominis and Amit - was a mystery to everyone. He was the one who suggested to play in the Slytherin common room as well to “be as far away” from his aunts meddling as possible.

“The only reason I agreed to this is because Sebastian is the one who brewed this,” you admitted.

Sebastian’s cheeks reddened at your compliment and in that moment he was thankful he was seated the closest to the fire. His voice portrayed his usual confidence as he teased, “Here that Weasley? I’m the trusted potionier here!”

“Yea, yea,” the redhead dismissed, “let’s get this started before the effects wear off…with how strong this is we’ve got what an hour or two tops?”

The game commenced and after a few rounds everyone was frustrated. Not one person had picked truth. As frustrating as that was at least the dares were amusing:

Amit had to use the disillusionment charm and retrieve one of Professor Garlick’s undergarments. When he came back red faced and explained she didn’t own any, the roars of laughter echoed throughout the dungeon.

Natty had to run around the faculty tower in her animagus form without getting caught. Watching a gazelle attempting to go up and down the spiral stairs was too much. She was almost caught because the group of you watching couldn’t stop laughing. Professor Onai stepped out of her room at one point and looked around to find nothing there.

“Hearing wild animals in the hallways,” she said as she looked down at her mug and whistled lowly, “I better slow down on the fire whiskey.”

As soon as she went back inside the lot of you hauled ass back to the Slytherin common room and only then did you start laughing again.

Natty swatted Amit hard on his shoulder, “Don’t you ever try to mount me like I’m some kind of horse when I’m in my animagus form ever again or I’ll shove your precious telescope so far up you-“

“I’M SORRY I PANCIKED,” Amit cried running away from Natty, “YOU KNOW I CAN’T RUN FAST!”

Poppy had to down a shot of fire whiskey that Gareth had pilfered and then try to steal Leander’s toad that he left behind while he went home for the holiday. After several run ins with walls and hiccuping pleas that she would be a better owner than Leander, she finally got him.

“I’m *hiccup* keeping him. What kind of soulless *hiccup* git *hiccup* leaves a creature behind,” she declared before she started crying. It took several minutes of soothing and petting the toad to calm her down. She still cuddled him now and randomly reassured him that he was safe now she would treat him better anyway.

Imelda had to “makeout” with a portrait - specifically Sir Cadogan - and she did so with gusto and way too little shame.

“You know as amusing as all these dares I’ve witnessed tonight are,” Ominis deadpanned at the group, “what’s the point of downing vertaserum if we aren’t planning on taking advantage of its effects!”

No one spoke up.

“Fine I’ll start: truth ask me anything,” he sighed in frustration.

“Umm do you have a crush on anyone,” Natty piped up, unsure what else to ask.

“How original,” he sighed but there was no real venom in his voice, “I suppose if I didn’t have a crush on my girlfriend she would be highly put out don’t you think?”

The group gasped. You giggled furiously. Sebastian whipped his head around to his best friend, “Girlfriend?! What girlfriend? And wait why is y/n laughing? Did you know he has a girlfriend?”

“Yes and it’s not my turn,” you laughed as you answered strategically

“Traitors! The both of you,” he exclaimed, “well who is it?!”

“Sorry, my turn is over and it’s my turn to ask,” Ominis stated simply. He smiled as he heard the uptick of Sebastian’s heart. It was too easy…might as well make him sweat a bit.

“I think I shall ask….Imelda, truth or dare?”

“Truth, bring it Gaunt, I have nothing to hide,” she said proudly.

“The other day I was taking a walk outside, right around Kogawa’s office and summoners court,” Ominis started.

Imelda’s face fell immediately and she looked like she was about to be sick.

“As I walked past the room where the quidditch supplies are kept I couldn’t help but hear your outcries of distress,” Ominis grinned as he emphasized outcries, “or was it distress? Or rather the true question: what were you doing in there?”

Everyone looked at her expectantly. She gripped her mouth until her knuckles were white. She felt like she was going to be sick if she didn’t answer soon. “Oh come now Imelda, I thought you had nothing to hide,” Ominis teased mercilessly.

The serum was burning through her forcing the truth out. In one breath she exclaimed, “I was getting myself off on my broom.”

There was a beat of silence before everyone lost it. “I told you I wasn’t the one who should be afraid,” Ominis said smugly.

“I knew how much you loved flying but I didn’t KNOW how much you LOVED flying,” Natty said in between giggles.

“How does one even do something like that with a broom,” Poppy asked innocently confused.

“Good question Poppy,” Gareth interjected, “I dare you to show us how!”

All the girls threw pillows at him shouting choruses of, “You’re disgusting!” and “How dare you?!”

Imelda sat a little straighter, “Too bad. My turns over and you know what Sallow you’ve been a bit too quiet.”

Sebastian’s eyes went wide, “So wait, I didn’t say anything like these guys - all I did was laugh - and you’re after me now?!”

“Afraid of the truth Sallow,” Imelda dared, knowing Sebastian never backs down from a challenge.

“Absolutely not, fire away,” he declared with forced casualness.

“Last year,” she started slowly.

You, Sebastian, and Ominis tensed slightly and stole glances at one another.

“There was a rumor that you took the fall for breaking into the restricted section for this one,” she nodded her head at you, “Why?”

You cut in laughing, “Everyone knows he likes having people owe him favors so -“

“I thought she was gorgeous and I wanted to both impress and protect her,” he admitted with a red face, not daring to look in your direction.

As a chorus of “ooos” and “I knew it”s rang out you reached for the fire whiskey so you could blame your deep red body blush on that instead of Sebastian’s admission.

“Hey that’s not butter beer,” Poppy whispered knowing you never touch fire whiskey.

“I know,” you whispered back right before you downed a huge gulp.

“Gareth,” Sebastian said briskly, determined to get the spotlight off him, “who’s name do you pant when you get off - anyone here?”

This is when Sebastian finally looks at you. He has a triumphant grin as he’s sure his point is about ready to be proven.

“Poppy,” Gareth said sheepishly.

Poppy immediately spit her butter beer out and it sprayed all over Amit.

“I’m sorry,” Gareth winced, “I didn’t mean for you to find out my feelings for you this way.”

He shot a glare at Sebastian at the same time you shouted, “HA! I told you he was never flirting with me that we’re just friends!”

Sebastian gaped open mouthed between Poppy (who had just taken another shot of fire whiskey herself) and Gareth.

“But…but I swear he was all over you and flirting all last year,” Sebastian doubled down.

“Yea I was,” Gareth explained as he scratched the back of his neck, “I thought if I flattered her she would be able to get me an in with Poppy. Y/n is the first person to gain any headway with her so….”

“Wait a minute,” Amit piped up, “why does it matter to you if he was flirting with her or not?”

Ominis chuckled, but said nothing.

“Yea and why is it so important that Sebastian know that he wasn’t y/n,” Natty asked knowingly.

“And those are the million Knut questions aren’t they,” Ominis said smugly as he raised his glass of butter beer and took a drink.

“Wh- wh- who’s turn is it now,” you asked in a high pitched voice.

“Everyone’s gone but you sweetheart,” Gareth said.

“Knock that off Weasley or I swear to Merlin I will curse you so badly your future generations will feel it,” Sebastian barked.

You could hear a pin drop as everyone turned to stare at him. Everyone, except for you, was holding in so much laughter it hurt.

“DARE,” you screamed to break the tension, “I will take any dare you throw at me right now!”

The heads that were turned on Sebastian all creepily turned towards you with that same “cat who got the cream” facial expression. You shuddered as you realized your mistake, and braced for what was to come.

“I DARE you,” Gareth declared with purpose, “to tell your crush that you like him.”

Sebastian held his breath. He was torn between loudly protesting and begging Merlin that it was him. All those feelings still when he saw a tear stream down your face - then all he felt was anger.

“Look what you did Weasley,” he said enraged as he pulled out his wand, “couldn’t give her a break? Or be more original?”

“It’s okay I’m just scared of rejection and I definitely didn’t want to say these words with an audience but if I don’t say it I’m going to explode,” you explained quietly as you put a hand on Sebastian’s arm to lower his wand.

He turned to face you and you looked up at him through your lashes.

“I love you Sebastian,” you said in a small voice, “I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you in our common room, pacing in concentration nose deep in a book. When you called me a kindred spirit I thought for sure you could see I was a goner. I come with a lot of baggage and we’re so close as friends. I understand if this puts you off and you want space from me.”

Sebastian just stared open mouthed back at you. He did so a beat too long and you start walking to your dorm while furiously wiping at your face, “I’m off to bed. Happy Christmas guys!”

When you were completely out of the room everyone turned their eyes to Sebastian who was still frozen in place.

“SALLOW YOU ABSOLUTELY ARSE! I MAY FUCK MY BROOM ON OCCASION BUT THAT’S NOTHING COMPARED TO HOW BADLY YOU JUST FUCKED UP RIGHT NOW,” Imelda screeched and cringed at her own admission. Her anger for her friend overriding her embarrassment.

“Imelda is spot on Sebastian,” Ominis sighed in judgment as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Suddenly he stood up and announced, “Sebastian: you’re not allowed back in our room until after you’ve fixed this, you utter imbecile. Garreth, you don’t deserve Poppy, but she seems to be into you despite your revelations. Don’t. Muck. It. Up. She’s not a potion to be experimented with. Natty, Poppy - you two are lovely, never change. Amit: good luck not picturing Professor Garlick naked from now on. Imelda: you fuck your broom, enough said. Now goodnight!”

Everyone was silently holding their breath as he headed towards his room. Right before he walked out of eye sight he turned around and said, “Oh yes, and Sebastian? I’m courting Anne, because I am a man who can express his feelings and do something about them. I’m blind not dumb.”

After a few moments of silence Garreth shrugged and spoke up, “He did warn us about him joining in. He was not kidding.”

“I’m - regrettably - a Gaunt. We don’t kid,” Ominis shouted from the hallway, “and before you comment I’m blind not deaf and you have the shrillest voice I’ve ever heard from a man Garreth!”

“What are you still doing here,” Amit questioned the still frozen Sebastian.

“I think he’s still in shock,” Natty giggled.

“HEY SALLOW! HAVE YOU BEEN PETRIFICUS TOTALUSED?! NO? THEN GO FIX THIS NOW OR SO HELP ME I WILL HEX YOU MYSELF,” Poppy threatened.

That snapped Sebastian out of it and he turned to look at Poppy. When he saw the dangerous look in her eyes he scrambled tripping over his feet and took off for your dorm.

“That…was incredibly sexy,” Gareth said as he slid closer to Poppy, “I knew you had a little Gryffindor inside you….would you liked some more?”

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as Imelda yelled at him and Poppy giggled.

“Buy me a butterbeer first and then we’ll talk,” she said flirtatiously.

Sebastian could barely hear the roar of his friends’ laughter over the rapid beating of his heart. He knocked on your door a couple times before coming in. You were sat on the side of your bed with your back to him.

“Go away Sebastian. I don’t want your pity,” you said tiredly, “I know I’m a lot to deal with so I’m not surprised and you don’t have to worry I won’t fawn all over you.”

Hearing your self deprecating side hurt him to his core and gave him the strength he needed. In a couple quick strides he made it over to face you. Then he said something you did not expect:

“I know you didn’t take the veritaserum,” he said softly.

“What are you talking about,” you said defensively.

He gave you a knowing look and you sighed, “How did you know?”

It was his turn to sigh as he sat next to you on your bed tilting his body to face you.

“Because I know you. You’re so caring and responsible I know that there is no way that you would ever risk accidentally letting out the…how shall I say…more confidential details about last years events. Which is something I didn’t even think about, no surprise there,” he reasoned before giving you that lopsided grin that made you weak in the knees, “and I might have definitely seen you put the full vial in your pocket when you thought no one was paying attention. And if there’s one thing I do thoroughly is pay attention to you.”

“Sebastian don’t say things you don’t mean just to make me feel bet - OH MERLIN WHAT ARE YOU DOING,” you exclaimed as he bent over you to root through your right pocket.

“See I pay attention,” he said with a grin before he downed the serum, “Just in case the first batch wore off…I need you to know I’m being completely honest.”

He waited a moment and then stood up to move in front of you. You couldn’t stop the billions of butterflies that fluttered around in your stomach as he crouched down and gently took your hands in his.

You’d never seen him look this serious - well other than his frustrated and angry seriousness from last year. This was different. This was softness and so very vulnerable.

“The day you came bursting in the great hall out of breath but still maintaining a confidence that showed us all you belong here…I just knew you were special. I was hoping desperately you’d be sorted in Slytherin. I chided myself for that. See I know everyone thinks I’m a big flirt but it’s not on purpose. I can’t help how naturally charming I am,” he visibly cringed after he said that last sentence.

You chuckled and gave him a deadpan look.

“Okay yea, maybe you’re right and I am a but arrogant, I heard it then,” he admitted and shook his head, “regardless, love and those kind of relationships just weren’t on my priority list. Anne and I went through so much. When I wasn’t at Hogwarts I was just trying to survive being around my Uncle and how he treated me. Then when I was here I had my sister and Ominis and my studies - and yes okay being generally popular has been fun. Yep heard it that time too - Merlin I didn’t know I thought so highly of myself!”

“Go on,” you encouraged through your soft laughter, “before the serum wears off and I don’t believe a word you’re saying.”

“I know you’re teasing but ouch. You’re right though. When you came over and spoke to me I called you a kindred spirit because I knew if I said soulmate I would’ve scared you away. It didn’t make sense to me I didn’t even know you but you felt like home almost immediately. Then you knocked me on my ass and I was done for, I had to do whatever I could to be close to you. I do pay attention. I look for you everywhere when we’re not together. I come up with any excuse I can to be near you. Then when everything went sideways you stayed by me even when I was nasty to you, when I cursed you, when I took more than I gave. I was horrible and I don’t deserve you. You. Beautiful. Incredible. Kind. Feisty. Witty. Intelligent. Wonderful you. I love you darling, I’ve been yours since I laid eyes on you.”

Tears spilled from your eyes as you lunged forward to capture his lips in a kiss. He responded in kind and as the kiss deepened you grabbed a hold of his shirt and pulled him up onto the bed with you. Neither of you broke the kiss during this, each of you needing the other more than air.

He caged you between his arms and the bed. Then just as suddenly as it started he pulled away looking confused and slightly upset.

Your mind started racing: did you go too far, did he change his mind now that you’ve kissed, were you a bad kisser?!

“Wait a minute,” he said slowly processing something as he looked towards your door, “Did Ominis say that he’s dating Anne - as in my twin sister Anne?!”

You burst out laughing underneath him, “You’re slow, but you get there!”

While he was distracted you used your legs to flip him over on his back so you were on top straddling him. You smirked as you took in his shocked and reddened face. Thank Merlin for all that galavanting in the highlands, you were a lot stronger than you looked

“Now that I’ve knocked you on your ass again, how about we put Ominis and Anne on hold and focus on you and me, huh,” you said lowly causing Sebastian to shiver.

He reached a hand out to tuck some of your hair behind your ear and whispered, “Merlin I love you!”

His face broke out in a devilish grin, “I could get used to this view you know.”

Normally you’d blush and turn into a puddle at his words. Not tonight, not now that you know he feels the same.

“Well then let’s experiment and see how many ‘views’ we can come up with,” you said suggestively.

Sebastian gulped but maintained his confidence when he spoke, “I am a sucker for research and experiments. And we do have a lot of time to make up for, don’t we darling?”

As you both got lost in one another you didn’t hear what was going on outside your door.

“Well I guess I’m not sleeping in my room tonight,” Imelda sighed, “I mean good on them - about time honestly. However I don’t even want to sleep in this house tonight, Sallow seems like a screamer to me.”

“You would know,” teased Poppy referring to Ominis hearing Imelda having fun with her broom

“That’s it you’re never touching firewhiskey again,” Imelda scolded as her cheeks heated up, “can I stay in your room Natty, since Poppy here is being a jerk.”

Natty put an arm around Imelda and smiled warmly at her.

“Of course you can, my friend…just uh…leave your broom behind please,” she joked and then bolted before Imelda could hex her.

“OH COME ON, YOU TOO,” Imelda shouted as she took off after her back to the common room where Garreth and Amit were still lounging.

“Do you think she gets splinters…you know….there,” a wide eyed Amit asked Garreth.

“Weasley. You. Are. DEAD,” Imelda yelled as she pulled out her wand.

“WHY ME,” he shrieked.

“Because this game was your damn idea to begin with now stay still you rotten bastard,” she ordered.

“POPPY SAVE ME! YOU’RE SCARY ENOUGH ON FIREWHISKEY TO TAKE HER! HELP!,” Garreth screeched as he ran.

In that moment you broke your kiss with Sebastian. You looked absolutely panicked as you whisper yelled, “Oh no Professor Weasley! I can hear her voice coming from the common room she sounds horrified! Merlin she’s going to kill us if she finds us like - Seb why are you laughing? Seb come on this is serious! She’s got that shrill upset tone she gets when she’s livid.”

“Just trust me, we’re safe. Now kiss me,” he promised.

“Screw it, you’re worth all the detentions!”

With that the two of you became lost in one another once more. It was a Happy Christmas indeed!

[fannedandflawless]

The Veritaserum Paradox: When One Drop Became a Flood

He told Harry that a single drop was enough. "Veritaserum. A powerful truth potion. Three drops, and you would answer any question put to you." The implication? Lethal precision. Controlled power.

And yet—when the time came to extract the truth from Barty Crouch Jr., Severus Snape tipped the entire vial into his mouth. Not a drop. Not three. All of it.

Was it a contradiction? A mistake? A forgotten line? Perhaps.

But if you look closer—if you know Snape—perhaps not.

🖤 Theory 1: Tactical Intimidation

The "drop" line was never about dosage. It was theatre. Psychological warfare. When Snape speaks, it’s not just for information—it’s for effect. With Harry, it was a warning dressed as education. With Barty Jr., it was certainty dressed as silence.

He didn’t need to empty the vial. But Snape never takes chances. Not when the truth is this dangerous.

🧪 Theory 2: Variable Potency

Veritaserum isn’t static. The dose depends on the strength of the subject’s Occlumency, their magical resistance, and even their mental state.

Harry, a 14-year-old boy? A drop might do. Barty Crouch Jr.? A trained Death Eater with a gift for deception?

You drown liars. You don't drizzle on them.

🎭 Theory 3: Alan Rickman knew what looked good on camera

Let's be honest. A single dainty drop would not have carried the same visual weight. The steady, deliberate pour? The silence? The glint of the vial?

Rickman performed Snape as someone who embodied gravitas. He didn’t administer truth. He delivered judgement.

—

So was it a contradiction?

Maybe.

But more likely—it was Snape doing what he always does: Choosing precision when possible. Certainty when necessary. And theatre, always.

[lotetsu4]

Something that frustrates me so much is the fact that they never used Veritaserum on Sirius during his trial. Like he wouldn’t have been sent to Azkaban and so much in the story would change