"What is your name?"

"I had a pet dog when I was thirteen," he replied, staring blankly back at his interrogator. "I turned him into a rabbit so he could stay in my room at night."

"What is your name?" More insistent this time.

"The Dark Lord promised he'd kill my family if I didn't, but then he killed them anyway."

"What is your association with the Dark Lord?"

"I went to a church once, when no one was around. Stood inside and stared at the windows. It was evening, beautiful in the sunlight."

"He's lost his mind."

"No, occlumens. While Veritaserum forces only truth to be spoken, a wizard very skilled in the mental arts can instantly redirect their mind to safe truths. Veritaserum also does nothing to counteract the effects of even a simple confundus. Between that and the potential side-effects, there's plenty of reason it isn't more widely used."

"What is your association with You-Know-Who?"

"Four was always my favourite number. Four, fourteen, twenty-four, thirty-four, forty-four. . ."

"Can we give him more? Make it easier to get sense out of him?"

"Five drops is already the upper bounds of what can be safely used. Any more and we risk his mind twisting itself permanently out of shape. More so if he continues to resist."

"Why were you skulking about in the Ministry after hours?"

"I always wanted to take Muggle Studies, you know, but they said it wasn't proper for a pureblood of my standing. But I've been out there, I know what I've seen. They have cars that go faster than our best racing brooms, around and around in their little circles, they know things. They can fly too."

"Why were you at the ministry last night?" Demanding, angry.

"There was a prophecy," he said slowly, his mouth tilting into a crazy grin. "I made my own breakfast from then on, she never did get up early enough."

A hand slammed onto the table separating them, the noise sharp and abrupt. "A prophecy? Tell me!"

"The itsy-bitsy spider climbed up the magic sprout. Down came the rain and washed the spider out. Out came the Hagrid who picked up the spider, and it lived a long long time getting bigger and bigger."

"Is there nothing we can do to get sense out of him? I feel like this is only devolving into complete madness."

"Do you think the Dark Lord is careless with his followers? If you'd lived through the last war, you'd understand that this is exceptional only because we managed to capture him at all."

"What do you know about this prophecy?"

"I held her hand, but I wasn't looking at her. I didn't even see it happen. I was trying to save her, but I should have just been with her." There were tears in his eyes, but he continued to stare blankly as though unaware.

"Everyone has lost someone, You-Know-Who doesn't care who he hurts. If you cooperate we can protect you."

"Black for midnight, black for song, black for silence on and on, black for watching, black to wait, black to bind the final gate."

And then he screamed, long and shrill and piercing and desperate, thrashing against the chains, convulsing and straining. Then he stopped, suddenly collapsed back, breathing heavily but staring just as blankly as before.

The interrogator was clearly unnerved, but glanced down at the pages he held.

"You attempted to infiltrate the Ministry last night—"

"Not attempted," he corrected, his voice wavering. "I did infiltrate the Ministry. All your guards and spells, all your charms and hexes, worthless."

"Finally we're getting somewhere."

"You don't sound surprised."

"It isn't trivial to outwit Veritaserum, even if you've trained to do it. Eventually, everyone gets tired of fighting."

"Why were you in the Ministry last night?"

"Lies. They're building lies. Even he wouldn't go that far, you know. It amuses him to watch you fight yourselves, refusing to see the truth."

"Is this enough to prove—"

"Not to those who won't take our word. I'm afraid it's useless without anything more concrete. A location, plans for the future, we need something more."

"What was your goal in infiltrating the Ministry last night?"

"No."

The interrogator leaned forward. "Are you telling me you didn't infiltrate the Ministry last night?"

"No."

"Did you sneak into the Ministry?"

"No."

"We caught you there. Found you in the Department of Mysteries. Were you trying to steal a prophecy?"

"No."

"What were you trying to accomplish?" Irritated again. Very much so.

"No."

Silence for a long moment. Then, "What did you do?"

"It's nearly midnight, isn't it?"

"What did you do?"

"I went to Hogwarts as a child, Hufflepuff. They always said don't mess with the Hufflepuffs, they stick together, but somehow even there I didn't fit in."

"What did you do in the Ministry of Magic last night?"

He twitched, his breathing went sharp, and for a moment his eyes lost their vacant stare. He smiled unsettlingly at his interrogator. "You really should let me go. Spend time with your family." His expression went dull again. "I know I should have with mine," he murmured, as though an afterthought, his voice trailing down.

"Is that a threat?"

"It's a warning."

"Why were you at the Ministry?"

"I work there."

"You're not an Unspeakable, so you had no business in the Department of Mysteries. Why were you on that particular floor?"

"Deception. I am a deception. What's more powerful than death?" His finger twitched, tracing a rough triangle on the arm of the chair, a loop, and a line. Wands were trained on him at once, but it wasn't a wordless wandless spell, not a runic silent casting. Nothing happened.

"Why do you call yourself deception?"

"Unbreakable. Even you, nothing. Deception. All deception."

"I think it's time we left."

"Why? It's just getting interesting."

"No, it's getting dangerous."

"How do you know?"

"If you wish to stay, I cannot stop you. I'm merely warning you. He admitted to being a deception, that his entire mission was a deception, and he said the word unbreakable. That means he was almost certainly sent deliberately to be captured, prepared to be interrogated, and is also completely innocent and part of some larger scheme of the Dark Lord's. Remaining here only wastes our time and resources. What happens at midnight?"

"I don't know."

"Exactly."