Reaching for the Moon

CHAPTER FOUR

Reaching for the Moon

Saturday 17 August – Sunday 3 November 1985

Old Basford, Nottingham; Pitlochry to Foss, Perthshire.

Rated PG for hints of the Dark Arts.

It took a long time for Sturgis to convince his friends that he had told them everything he knew. "They've applied for Portkeys for Walden, Gertrude, Crudelia, Humphrey, Coira, Dragomira, Regelinda... It must have been all the Macnairs who still live in the castle. It was Coira – that's Walden's daughter-in-law – who came to deposit the paperwork, and she mentioned that they were going for a year to look for Demiguises and dragons. But there wasn't a passport for Jane Smith, or for anyone else who might have been Veleta."

"Then they are remarkably confident that she won't run away!" protested Sarah.

"Or that she cannot," said Ariadne. She went into the kitchen to brew coffee, while Remus moved the guests onto their periwinkle-blue sofas.

"Sturgis, what else – ?" began Richard.

"No, nothing else," said Sturgis. "It was against the rules to tell you that much – applicants' business is supposed to be confidential. But the Macnairs aren't keeping it much of a secret among their friends, and I don't feel any obligation to protect their evil interests." His expression reminded Remus of their days in the Order when Sturgis was listening to the news of the latest Death Eater atrocity. "So, anyway... if any of you want to visit your friend Veleta, you might be able to do so safely after 15 September."

"But it can't be that simple," said Hestia. "Surely we don't just knock on the door and ask the house-elf if we can see Mrs Smith?"

"It might be easier to take broomsticks and work our way down from the roof," said Richard.

"Sturgis, would you be able to authorise a Portkey?" asked Ariadne.

"For a place as large as Macnair Castle, you'd have to know the exact room you wanted," said Sturgis.

"We need to know more about the enchantments around the castle before we risk tackling them," said Kingsley.

"We could try Flooing, and at least speak to Veleta first," said Sarah.

"But Ariadne can't be involved with any of it," said Remus.

He felt all eyes turn in his direction.

"It's less than six months," he said, "since Ariadne asked innocent questions about whether a Macnair employee had ever been known by any other name. And Macnair tried to kill her for it. I think he would also have tried to kill Ivor if Ivor hadn't been out of the country at the time."

"But the Macnairs will be away," said Glenda. "They'll never know who visited."

"Don't say 'never'," said Remus, "because they could find out after the event, and Ariadne and Ivor are already on their blacklist."

"Then Ivor's not going either!" Hestia exclaimed.

"But Ariadne and I are the only real witnesses," said Ivor. "One of us has to go."

"Don't be silly," said Sarah. "I know what Veleta looks like. I can walk into that castle as well as you can. And I will, too."

"Glenda tells me that the castle radiated Dark magic," Horatio Chittock reminded them. "I hope nobody would mess around with that without taking due care."

Ivor seemed to approve of this remark, but Mercy Macmillan burst out, "We cannot use caution as an excuse for doing nothing! We have to try something!"

"It couldn't hurt to do more research into the enchantments first," said Emmeline.

"There won't be any book that publishes a list of Every Secret Spell the Macnairs Ever Cast," Richard pointed out. "Any useful research will have to be done practically, on the castle premises."

Ariadne came to perch on the sofa-arm next to Remus. Neither of them needed to say much because everyone else's conversation was buzzing with a vengeance. Kingsley did ask Emmeline about the publishing list, and Horatio did ask Sturgis about Ministerial policy, but the focus always came back to Veleta – despite the fact that no new ideas were expressed. Ariadne seemed to be following everyone's contribution with intense interest for a couple of hours, apparently with nothing to say herself, then happened to glance up at the clock. At once she sprang to her feet.

"It's time to stand up. Sarah – Richard – Emmeline – we're needing to clear these two sofas."

Emmeline politely rose, and Remus began to urge the others to their feet. The party had lasted longer than he had expected, and the guests were still enjoying themselves... but the clock was striking eleven, and Ariadne had done the sum correctly.

At the final stroke, Joe crashed to the floor, as the two Conjured sofas, the thirteen dining chairs and the damask table cloth vanished, the Sheraton table reverted to a battered formica-top, the crystal goblets were thick glass tumblers, and the silverware dulled to pewter. Ariadne silently laughed as Mercy plaintively remarked, "But it seemed so real. If I could Conjure like that I'd never buy anything."

Joe stood up, rubbing his head. Remus was relieved to see that, in their real sofa, the Consuo charm was still holding.

* * * * * * *

Ariadne was very quiet the next day. Her attention to her new garden was half-hearted, and she spent most of the time reading for Professor Jigger. Remus waited for her to finish a chapter before placing his hand on the open page and asking, "Are you angry with me?"

She nuzzled up to him and said nothing.

"Are you going to tell me about it?"

She took so long to arrange her thoughts that he almost prompted her again. But in the end she admitted, "Veleta was my closest friend. I was thinking I would be the one to go to Foss."

It was on the tip of his tongue to repeat his speech about safety, but something in her face warned him off. Instead, he said, "Are you angry that I'm telling you what to do?"

"I know you're feeling you have to," she said dully. "I'm just not... happy about it."

"Ariadne, I promise you'll be included the first moment we've established that it would be safe."

She nodded. "That was not in doubt. And I am grateful to you for caring about Veleta when you've never met her." She closed the book and kissed him.

He supposed they had had their first quarrel.

* * * * * * *

Once Remus had returned to college, the evenings became alarmingly short. He tried to finish his homework in the college library, but the library was full of distractions. On the second day of lectures, he was interrupted from his first essay plan by the chattering of his fellow-students.

"Swot!" teased Claire, the green-haired girl. "Won't you have time to run our study group this term?"

"Of course he will," said Valerie, the woman in the business suit, taking the seat next to him. "Remus, did you catch what Dr Fogg claimed to be the premise of the Summerhill experiment?"

Simon, the boy with the safety pin through his nose, took the next seat and opened his folder. "Wait a minute, let's begin at the beginning. The topic was Alternative Pedagogies – what does 'pedagogy' mean?"

So with his classmates insisting that they hadn't understood a word that Dr Fogg had taught them, Remus found himself re-delivering the whole lecture, and it took all the time until the tutorial. When he arrived home, he decided to read for the next lecture (The Origins of the Montessori Philosophy) before beginning dinner. Then he lost track of time and resuscitated his essay plan. The next moment when he was aware of other responsibilities was when Ariadne knocked on the study door to tell him that dinner was ready.

He was very contrite about leaving all the work to her, even though she said she didn't mind – and she really didn't seem to. He followed her downstairs, wondering if Claire or Simon worked remotely as hard as Ariadne did.

"Would you be happier if we agreed to cook on different days?" she asked.

"I'd be happier if you left it all to me, as you used to."

She shrugged. "It was different in summer, when you had not to bring your work home with you. Now that you have to pass exams, you cannot do all the housework too."

He did not want to provoke another disagreement on the topic of what constituted Ariadne's best interests, so he meekly ate her lima bean stew. After dinner they cleaned the kitchen together, which left less than an hour to continue their studies before they became too tired to read.

And that was the pattern. Ariadne worked eleven-hour days for Jigger, while Remus attended lectures, tutored his classmates, and tried to make a head-start on the housework. They were both supposed to study in the evenings and they were usually too tired to achieve much. Remus made up for lost ground over the weekends; he went to the council library to write up essays. But Ariadne rarely reached Sunday evening feeling finished; she had to read, design experiments, make trial runs in the laboratory that she had set up in the spare bedroom, and tend her garden often enough to provide enough herbs to make it happen.

"Ariadne, what does Jigger require of you that drives you so hard?"

She shrugged. "The diet pills are nearly finished, and I'm supposing Professor wants to start marketing. We've finished the human trials now; I'll have to write it all up. On Sunday, when I'm less tired. What about you? How many essays have you to write this term?"

"Eight – not counting my presentations."

"And have you to write them all with that – that birro?"

"To be honest, I don't find Muggle writing implements very comfortable – I sometimes Transfigure a quill to look like a biro."

She smiled, as if this commonplace detail were wildly fascinating. She had, he noticed, moved the conversation from her work to his. Before he had time to tease her about it, the fireplace crackled, and Hestia's head appeared.

"Ariadne, you're finally home and awake! Don't you and Remus ever do anything except work?"

"We're not working now, Hestia."

"Well, it's finally happened. The Macnairs have gone to Korea – and we have a plan to visit Veleta."

Remus followed Ariadne to the fire. Hestia held out a pale pink block.

"It's... soap," said Ariadne.

"Yes. I learned something useful from Snape after all! It's a wonderful cake of almond-oil soap. And I've been making aloe vera and lime-blossom too. Perhaps I'll try gardenia next. But it's taking me a long time to make enough."

Remus did not understand, but apparently the story made sense to Ariadne, for she sniffed at the soap, handed it back, and asked, "How long are you thinking it will take?"

"Ariadne, don't be disappointed... but it isn't really a matter of how long the saponification will take. I can make soap any time, and Mercy is helping. Even Sarah wants to help – only she can't be allowed near a cauldron, of course. The problem is that I'm only six weeks from exams, and I don't want to try the adventure before my exams are over."

"It's fine," said Ariadne softly. "You've done more than I have, Hestia. What will you do when you're ready?"

"Take the soap to Foss and try to enter the castle somehow. Bet on the assumption that, if the Macnairs are out, the person whom I'll see will be Veleta. It might just be a house-elf, of course; but I'll take a chance on asking to see a human."

Remus interrupted, "Hestia, are you planning to go by yourself?"

"I'm not so foolhardy. Ivor wants me to take you or Sturgis or Emmeline – someone with some experience against Dark magic."

"Fine. I'll be with you." It wasn't fine, of course; a girl like Hestia would be helpless against the Dark enchantments of Macnair Castle. But they had to take someone who had known Veleta, and women made more convincing hawkers than men.

And Ariadne was radiating hope and gratitude.

* * * * * * *

Ivor broke his usual rule of saving money to splurge on perfumes and stationery from the junk-shops in Diagon Alley. Hestia finished her exams, and Remus chose a Sunday when there was a lull in his essay-writing. He didn't dare leave Ariadne behind altogether, but she was still grateful to him for acting, and she agreed quietly to wait with Ivor in Pitlochry. The shops were all closed, and it was too frosty to sit outdoors, but in the end they found an open church and disappeared into a pew to sing hymns.

Hestia had stacked her "merchandise" in a cumbersome cart, almost as large as an old-fashioned baby's pram, which she borrowed from her employer. Remus shrank it to a size that he could keep in his pocket. But they could not Apparate, since they had no way of knowing how many Muggles they might meet in the wilderness, so the only efficient way to reach Foss was to walk the ten miles along the River Tummel.

It was an absurd scheme, thought Remus. They had no guarantee of entering the castle, or of meeting Veleta, or of escaping safely. But Hestia was marching with a determined air that reminded him she was Caradoc Dearborn's sister; all Remus could do was hold his wand tightly.

When the castle snapped into view ("The air is colder here," said Hestia, her teeth chattering) Remus restored the cart of soap to its natural size and they pushed it down the path to the portcullis. Remus had no idea how they were going to persuade whoever kept the doors that they should be allowed in, but, to his surprise, a panel of the front door was open. He hesitated for a moment, then stepped through, and Hestia followed with the cart. He wondered how long they would have to wander around the castle, looking for a hidden door that could be anywhere, while pretending that they weren't looking for anything at all.

But they had no sooner stepped into the entry – a mess of corridors and staircases and doors – than a woman in grey Macnair livery stepped out from behind a pillar and said, "Miss Dearborn? Mr Lupin?"

She was carrying a toddler, and a small girl clung to her free hand. All three of them had huge chocolate-brown eyes. The little girl had chocolate-brown curls spilling over her shoulders from her filet cap, but the woman's hair was hidden under a net.

Hestia recovered from her astonishment and exclaimed, "Veleta!"

Ignoring the name, the woman said, "Come this way."

They had no way of knowing whether she were leading them into a trap, but Hestia only hesitated a moment before following.

The stranger led them through a narrow corridor to a staircase, then up two flights of stairs – Remus Charmed the cart weightless so that Hestia could hold it a steady two inches above the stone steps – then eight or ten paces along a gallery, and finally tapped at the stone wall with two fingers.

An invisible door swung open to reveal a square room with three lancet windows overlooking a high-walled network of gardens. Each window was draped in red velvet, and a soft Persian carpet, like a field of red grass, covered the floor. There were star charts on the wall to their left, and some three-dimensional astronomical models, while a huge crystal ball on a small table dominated the centre of the room. There were two arrangements of red sofas – Remus was reminded of the Gryffindor common-room – and, on either side of the magical door, shelves loaded with books and toys.

"It is safe to enter," said the chocolate-brown woman.

Remus knew that Hestia was wondering if the stranger were telling the truth, but the only options were to trust her or retreat. Remus stepped into the room. Nothing happened. Hestia entered behind him. At once the door swung closed behind them and clunked. They knew, without looking, that it had locked itself without the aid of wand or key.

"I have no wand," the stranger explained. "The door recognises my fingerprints. Be seated, Miss Dearborn." She indicated one of the sofas. As they went to sit down, she stood the toddler on the floor, lifted down a box from a shelf, and began to set up a model railway. This took some time, since the track was very elaborate, but then the little boy began to play with what was unmistakably a miniature Hogwarts Express. Meanwhile, the little girl took a family of dolls from another shelf, and began to play some kind of hairdressing game.

After the children were settled, the chocolate-brown woman sat down opposite Hestia, and asked, "Do you know who I am?"

To Remus, she was unquestionably the face he had seen from a window at Foss Castle two years ago. For Hestia, the question was more complicated, but her reply was simpler. "You are Veleta Vablatsky."

"So says the man called Ivor Jones," agreed the woman. "But how would he know?"

"How do you know our names?" asked Remus.

"I may not say. I know your names, but I do not know who you are, or why you are interested in me."

"Veleta," said Hestia, "don't you remember that we went to school together?"

"I do not remember school. Please tell me about it."

With more enthusiasm than prudence, Hestia launched into a description. "We travelled on a train exactly like that toy one – only it was real – the Hogwarts Express. It took us to the castle – the school – called Hogwarts, and we had to wear the Sorting Hat. You and I were sorted into Gryffindor. And we learned Potions and Transfiguration and History and a whole lot more. Your grandmother was a teacher at the school – don't you remember that she taught Divination? I had two cats, even though it was against the rules to have two, and the Headmaster made me give one of them to you. And your best friend was Ariadne MacDougal – "

"I know who the woman Ariadne is," their hostess interrupted. "She is now Mr Lupin's wife. But I do not recall that she was my friend, or any of the other things you tell me."

It was obvious to Remus that the woman in front of him was either a very cool liar or else in the grip of a powerful Memory charm. If she were lying there was nothing he could do – indeed, he had no idea how far they were at her mercy, imprisoned as they were in her sitting room – but he did know something about how memory worked.

"Mrs Smith," he said, "what do you remember about yourself?"

"I may not say."

Hestia latched on. "Are there things you can't talk about? Things you mustn't say – or are Charmed not to say – "

Their hostess did not say a word, but she nodded slowly.

"There are things you can say," said Hestia. "You were allowed to say that you had lived here all your life, and the name Jane Smith – how much of that is true? Won't you tell us from the beginning what you do know about yourself? I mean, not what you have to say, but the things you know for sure are true? You can leave out anything that's untrue or forbidden."

"That leaves – little." The words came out with a great effort. "The first thing I remember in all my life is waking up in that bedchamber." She indicated a door behind them, opposite the astronomical models – very obviously an ordinary door, not like the magical entry to their left. "That was in April, five and a half years ago. I don't remember anything before that. They told me I had an accident that caused me to lose my memory. They told me that this is Macnair Castle, and that I have lived here all my life. They told me my name is Jane Smith. They told me that I am a member of the household because of the work I do. They told me I have enemies. And I believed them."

It was obvious that huge parts of the story had been omitted already – information that, through magical compulsion or ordinary self-interest, their hostess could not or would not tell.

"Many things have happened since," she continued, "and I remember them all. Perhaps the Macnairs tell the truth sometimes. Perhaps I do have enemies outside Foss, or perhaps the real enemies are here at the castle. I do not know. Perhaps you are enemies; but perhaps you are the people who can tell me the truth about myself. I had to take the chance."

Suddenly Remus realised what Ariadne would have sensed from the first moment: this woman was more frightened of them than they were of her.

"Aurors came to Foss about six months ago," the woman said. "They were looking for someone called Veleta Vablatsky. I do not know who she is, but I wondered if she were anything to do with me. They asked question after question, and to some questions I could give truthful answers. But other questions were about things I did not remember. So I told the story as the Macnair family had told it to me. And – " She winced, as if a painful charm had suddenly suppressed her voice. She changed her mind about what she was going to say. "Since then I have been waiting... waiting for you to come and tell me more about this Veleta."

"Were you expecting us today?" Hestia sounded thoroughly bewildered.

"I thought the woman called Ariadne would come. But that doesn't matter; I know you are her friends. I could not come to you; there are charms on this castle, and I may not step outside its boundaries. Nor may I send an owl, or use the Floo. That is to protect me – " She winced again. " – My enemies must not know that I am living here. So I had to hope that some of you would one day come to me."

Hestia was looking at the crystal ball. She suddenly asked, "What work do you do?"

"It is better not to say."

The pause that followed this statement was uncomfortable, as if their hostess had already said too much. Remus broke it.

"It seems to me that someone has placed a very powerful Memory charm on you."

"What is a Memory charm?"

"A spell to make you forget... did you know that this was possible?"

"I did not know. But perhaps that is why I do not remember my earlier life. Perhaps that is what the mysterious enemies did to me, the ones from whom I am hiding here." But she sounded doubtful, as if she already suspected that no-one outside the castle could be the culprit.

"Veleta, we can tell you your life story," said Remus. "But why should you believe us rather than the Macnairs? Perhaps it would make more sense if your memory could be restored, and then you would know the truth for yourself."

For a moment she lost poise; a huge smile flooded her face. "Can you do that, Mr Lupin? Is it a very difficult magic to undo these – these Memory charms?"

"It is complicated to do them well, and they can go wrong. I would rather not do it myself, but I have a friend who is good at it. Can we bring our friend here one day soon?"

She nodded.

The next pause was more comfortable. It seemed they had reached a conclusion; nothing useful could be discussed until this woman had recovered her memory. And she was willing to attempt the recovery.

Or else she was lying, to lure them into a trap.

Finally she said, "You claimed you were selling something. They will ask me about that, so I must really take some merchandise."

Remus had nearly forgotten about that, but Hestia uncovered the cart. Their hostess extracted a glass bottle of cologne and three slabs of soap – a lemongrass, a strawberry and a lavender – with far too much speed to qualify as real selection.

"Write me a receipt for one Galleon and three Sickles," she instructed.

Remus scribbled, then returned the cart to his pocket, while Hestia asked, "When can we come back?"

"Do not come if you hear that the Macnairs have returned. They plan to remain in Korea, but if the house-elves tell them you were here, they will be angry, and it won't be safe for anyone to visit me. You must keep to the story that you are selling something, and perhaps they won't suspect."

Remus was rather alarmed when the brown-eyed woman actually handed over twenty Sickles. "I have so little opportunity to buy anything that they watch every Knut," she apologised. "Toady – the bailiff – will certainly notice if I keep in my purse what I claim to have spent."

"If the Macnairs stay in Korea," said Hestia, "when shall we come again? Shall we owl you?"

"No, I'm untraceable. But if you have a message for me, speak it out loud in the solar – I mean, in the living room – of your own homes, between eight and nine in the evening. Do this every day, and in the end..." A choke cut off her voice. She drew a deep breath, and continued: "I won't be able to reply to your messages, but come as soon as you can." She stood up. "I will show you to the front door. Do not speak on the way out."

The magical door opened at the tap of two fingers. She gathered up her children and led Remus and Hestia across the hall, up the steps, along the corridor, down the stairs, around the corner, and out to the huge double doors. They stepped across the bridge, across the innocent-looking grass, and through the invisible barrier. Because they had their backs to the castle, they did not recognise the moment at which it vanished from their view.

* * * * * * *

The river-bank seemed to be deserted, so Remus and Hestia were able to Apparate most of the way back in leaps of a hundred yards. On the outskirts of Pitlochry Ariadne came racing towards them and flung herself into Remus's arms. Ivor, with his face still creased in a frown, followed at a more sober pace. The session of rapture and relief was quite long, but in the end the story was told, and Hestia affirmed, "It was Veleta," and Remus said, "It was a major memory charm, unless it was a major trap."

"She hadn't forgotten everything," said Hestia. "She knew our names. She even knew Remus, whom she had never met."

"Then it was not memory," said Ariadne. "It was watching. She's probably been looking at us ever since the day the Aurors visited her."

Ivor frowned. "How could she watch us? We haven't been there."

"Did I never mention," said Ariadne, "that Veleta is a Locospector?"