Regulus swallows against his dry throat, but he reaches for the cup without hesitation. It's the only way, he knows it, and it's the least he can do. He owes them this. He needs to do this to prove himself to them. To Remus.

He's only heard stories of veritaserum, he's never experienced it, and he shudders as a wave of cold rolls through him, making his limbs heavy and his thoughts slow. Any lingering wariness or fear shivers into stillness and he closes his eyes, fingers curving around the empty teacup as his head tips backward and he takes a long breath. And smiles, the signal that the subject is fully under the sway of the potion.