Out of Duty

In my private moments when I am absolutely certain I will not be bothered I allow myself to remember, occasionally. I am not proud of my past - the affair, the abuse, the addiction, nor am I proud of the way I conduct my life at present. But given the chance, I would change nothing.

I left you without a word, naked; in the bed we called ours. Never did I send an explanation; never will I send an explanation. But in the darkness where I know you will never hear these words spoken I can admit the basic truths that haunt me. I love you, and despite whatever you may think I left you for your own sake.

He was onto you, so close and we never even knew. Had I stayed any longer I fear your life would have been lost. I was supposed to be nothing more then a cleverly placed chess piece. A knight if you will. Important for a short while, critical to reach a certain point yet dispensable in the end. But I failed my mission in more ways than one, and He was onto me, well before He was onto you.

It was considered to be a sacred oath and perhaps the night I took the vow I believed it was sacred. That belief was short lived, if it ever truly existed. I was brought up to be the perfect heir. I was to follow the footsteps of generations before, no questions asked. Although I knew *I* couldn't, I did, out of duty. And that was when my life truly became a sacrifice. But I'm still not sure what side I sacrificed myself to.

There were very few people more in love than you and I. Everyone knew that, including Him. And while our families did not approve, we didn't care. It was one of a very few rebellious acts I took place in. The consequences didn't matter, as long as we were together. But He was going to use our love to destroy you, it was to be my downfall too. And I couldn't let that happen. Your world needs you too much. And my life, I felt, was worth the sacrifice.

So, I touched my lips to yours one final time, ever so gently. Then softly whispered words of affection I never knew myself capable of and left. I was gone for less than an hour before the mark began to burn and I knew in that moment what I had expected for quite some time; we were being watched.

It was a suspicion I had been carrying for quite some time. Why would He let one of His followers, His slaves, return to the bed of His enemy night after night if He didn't have someone else watching? Of course, the cover was that I was going to betray you. I was merely using you to make you fall in love then lure you into His trap where you would be ultimately killed.

I knew I couldn't do it. I couldn't be the reason you died. And He knew it too. And I knew I was going to die for it. I wasted no time responding to His beckoning. And when He accused me of betraying Him I didn't bother to deny it. Although I may not have been the traitor, I was a traitor. And when He whispered 'Crucio' in the most menacing voice I had ever heard I didn't flinch, I only waited for the pain I knew would come.

I'm not certain how long it was before I woke up. I just know I did and remember wishing I hadn't. I was naked, covered in my own blood and bile, alone in an isolation cell that I recognized at once. How many times had I been in here to observe how prisoners were treated? How many times had I been in here to punish prisoners?

Three days later when no one had been in to see me I began to worry. It wasn't His style to leave a prisoner untortured. It wasn't like Him to let a prisoner begin to heal. Physically I may have begun to heal but psychologically I was more danger than ever. With the role reversal, I was suddenly remembering the hundreds of unthinkable acts I had participated in during my short time as one of His followers. And while my heart may have never been in it, I had still committed those actions, those crimes.

I had seen more torture and rape in my short eighteen years than any person should see in several lifetimes. And the only thought, to this day, that allows me to live with my past is knowing I have never been involved in a rape, other than the role of an observer.

In my mind as I continued to be in solitude I replayed hours of attacks. I watched in my memory as I cast the spell to bind a woman, a child, of sixteen years so that she could not move as she was ridiculed, beaten, raped, and eventually murdered. I was seventeen, it was my initiation to capture her, my first order after being marked for dead. I have never forgotten her face or the way her eyes stayed locked on me even after her life had been taken.

It was two weeks before the door to my cell was opened. And when I looked into a mirror image of my own eyes and saw disappointment I breathed a sigh of relief. Somehow my father had talked Him into sparing my life. I knew that the moment I saw Father's face. But I knew it had come at a cost. Father merely expressed his disappointment before leading me out of the cell and back to the Manor where I began to live in conditions that were less than fortunate.

It was one year, three months, two weeks, and four days before I left the Manor again. And in that time I had done nothing of value but think of you. I had all that time to consider the sins of my past. And to think of the one thing in my past I do not regret. I'm not sure which tortured me more. But He knew torture and somehow He knew leaving me alone to consider all the things that might have been different, that could have been changed, was a more affective method of torture than any beating or curse could ever be.

When my year and a half of arrest in my home ended I was sent back to His duty as if only my assignment has changed. I was no longer assigned to break you. I was no longer assigned to kill. I was no longer assigned to inflict pain. I was to break people in a different manner. I was assigned to interrogate and when that didn't work I was to brew truth serums much stronger than Veritaserum could hope to be.

My job was simple enough. I was assigned to glare, to bark threats, to snark others. I was assigned to brew potions. I was placed on the assignment because it was considered to be the lowest position a member of His faithful could serve. Lowest because it didn't involve physical torture and in this position one was not allowed to inflict physical pain. But I knew above all that mental torture was far worse than any form of pain. While the marks of beatings may fade the mental scars remain just as strong years later as they were the day they were inflicted.

The task of interrogator suited me quite well. I was no longer involved in things that made me hate myself. While my job may not have been honorable I could still live with myself. I took confessions, occasionally forced them with potions. But when a person is in fear for their survival they will usually tell you everything you want to hear.

I could live with what I was doing until she was brought into my interrogation chamber. As I looked into the familiar brown eyes of the woman who had been your best friend for as long as I could remember I wanted to be ill. I swallowed the bile that rose in my throat and began my typical routine. I remember trying to forget how well I knew this woman. Trying to forget she had once been my friend. But when she softly said my name I couldn't go on. I fed Him lies and bullshit. With an understanding never put in words I knew she was telling me lies interweaved with just enough half truths to save not only your life, but mine as well.

She was considered a premiere find and was placed in a high security cell. She is the only person I ever remember being captured that was too important to be tortured. She was harmed, but not in the usual ways. Underfed, harassed but never touched. She was in my interrogation chamber three times before He believed the lies she told. Lies she had been taught to believe. Even under my strongest truth serum she told the same story she had the night she was brought in. And if she had been anyone else, I would have suspected she had been assigned to be captured.

The last I heard of her was during her final interrogation. And it was almost two years before I learned of her fate. After the third interrogation He believed what she told us the latest plans were. And sent out all of his most faithful. Of the thirty-five dispatched ten were killed and six were captured. Including the traitor to your cause.

I breathed a sigh of relief when the traitor to His cause brought me a new potion recipe three days later. I knew this man would be my greatest asset. I knew he would help me find a way out. I had finally learned everything I needed to know. But the most important lesson I had learned years before.

In that year and a half of nothingness when I was confined to the Manor, I realized I had but two options. I could surrender the information I knew. Or I could continue to be what I hated. And that was why when I was allowed back into His meetings and when I was assigned to be His interrogator I followed every command and every order without question. I knew I had to become trusted again. I knew I had to learn of His plans. And I knew after I had the information I wanted I had to escape. And I did. With the assistance of the traitor to His cause on a moonless February night with the aid of an experimental cloaking potion I disappeared, I escaped.

This is my story; my present and my past. The events of my life are what have led me here, hiding in the dark woods on a cold night, preparing myself to write a short note that could cost me my life. But in the end if you win, my life is well worth the sacrifice. One can only do so much when he belongs to the side that has to lose, one can only do so much when he chooses to be the 'bad guy'. Perhaps I have always known someday I would be everything my family has never been. Perhaps I will die before I can prove what I am really am. But I can warn them, I can warn you. And if I survive this maybe my future will be a little brighter.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Albus Dumbledore smiled as if he had always known he would some day read the parchment the stealth owl had just left.

Professor Dumbledore,

While I don't have to explain my actions please be warned the following attacks have been planned. You'll be especially interested to note proper preparation for the third attack could win the war for the side that has always been correct. While I cannot explain why I have sent you this I trust someday I will be able to tell you, but for now you should know, I've always been on your side.

DM