Portkey Moonshine

CHAPTER FIVE

Portkey Moonshine

Sunday 3 November – Sunday 1 December 1985

Pitlochry, Perthshire; Foss, Perthshire.

Rated PG for violence.

Hestia gave a half-strangled cry. "But that's impossible! Ariadne, how could Veleta have been...? We were at school together, and she never said a word..."

"You were not needing another shock today," said Ariadne.

"No, I – I – Ariadne, how much else don't I know?"

"None of us knows very much," Ariadne soothed. "The Aurors would consider you to be the person who knows more than anybody. They've dismissed Ivor and me because we never saw the woman in the castle at close quarters, and Remus only met her for the first time today. Whereas you knew Veleta before she disappeared, and now you've met the woman in the castle closely enough to confirm that she really is Veleta. And I'm imagining that that was a shock for you."

"It was," said Hestia, holding a hand to her forehead. "She was so – so obviously Veleta, yet she didn't recognise me, and she had no memory of herself, or of anything. What have they done to her?"

"A fairly thorough Memory charm," said Remus. "One that wiped out her previous memories, but didn't prevent her acquiring new ones. Either that, or the woman was lying to us... somehow inviting us into a trap."

Hestia rounded on him furiously. "It was not a trap! Veleta would never... It was Veleta, and she's our friend! Even if the Macnairs did mean us harm, Veleta wouldn't play the accomplice!"

Ivor held down Hestia's shoulders. "Remus has a point, Hestia. Veleta wouldn't deliberately harm us, but she didn't recognise you; she didn't even know herself. And she certainly might not know the Macnairs' real business. They could have tricked her, or placed her under Imperius... I wouldn't assume anything."

Hestia calmed down. "She's alive... she has children... she has no memory... they've done Merlin knows what horrible things to her... and now she's a Locospector! Ariadne, are you certain?"

"Veleta told me herself," Ariadne confirmed, "but it was a secret. I've never told anybody."

Ivor frowned. "I'm surprised you felt bound to keep Veleta's confidence after she was supposed to be dead." There was an edge to his voice.

"Are you wishing I'd told you?" asked Ariadne.

"It was a rather important secret under the circumstances," said Ivor coolly. "It would have been helpful to mention it to the Ministry two years ago."

Remus knew exactly why Ivor was annoyed, but found himself saying, "Ariadne is very good at keeping secrets."

"Sorry," said Ariadne. "I was thinking it better not to mention sensitive information to the Ministry, since it's not had... a helpful attitude. But the truth always seemed obvious to me. The Macnairs kidnapped Veleta because she's a Locospector."

"How would they know about that when her friends didn't?" Hestia was still nettled about being left in the dark.

"Veleta once spoke carelessly in front of Dragomira Macnair. After Dragomira had worked out her secret, she must have told her father, and he'd not be wanting a Locospector left on Dumbledore's side. Even after the war ended, they could force a Locospector to be useful to them. And if they stole her memory, she'd have no reason to disoblige them..."

"It's surprising she spoke to me at all today," said Hestia. "But she seemed to want to know whatever we had to tell her. She said she had been waiting for us ever since the day the Aurors came."

Ariadne winced painfully. "That means she Locospected the Aurors back to their homes that day. She must have watched them interviewing Ivor and me, and learned our names. She must have watched us every day, hoping one of us would come..."

"But why?" said Hestia, "If she doesn't even know who we are, or whether we're the Enemy..."

"I think it's reasonable that she'd want her memory back," said Remus. "She'd be interested in anyone who might be able to help with that."

"I'm thinking," said Ariadne darkly, "that she cannot like the Macnairs. Whatever they're doing to her, she's hoping we can rescue her from it."

"Do you think she's watching us now?" asked Hestia suddenly.

"Quite likely," said Ivor. "But, as Remus told her, what needs to happen next can't be done by any of us. It's time to talk to Kingsley Shacklebolt."

* * * * * * *

Remus himself caused the next delay, because his classmates had another spate of essays due. Remus also had essays due, of course, but what ate up the spare moments in the library was the proof-reading for his classmates.

Claire, the girl with green spiked hair, could not define a scalene triangle.

Melanie, the girl in the gipsy skirt, had designed the most elaborate simulation of the water cycle that any of them had ever seen, but she had no idea how to write down her lesson plan in an orderly fashion.

Simon, the boy with the safety pin through his nose, had not read any of the books that he was reviewing for his children's literature essay, and he wanted his classmates to give plot-synopses of any that they had read. When Nicky – who had taken the trouble to plough through ten children's novels in order to select three – indignantly protested that this was cheating, Simon sulked and complained that she wasn't willing to help a friend.

Remus compromised with, "I can tell you which three are the shortest." Simon happily scribbled down the three titles, and wandered off to the reviews shelf to find a professional critic's opinion.

Valerie, the woman in the business suit, had written a well-researched and soundly argued essay about the Reggio Emilia philosophy, but she didn't trust her spelling, and she required Remus to comb through her work with a red pen. When he found only two mistakes, she asked, "Are you sure you read it properly?"

"Your spelling is fine. But..." He didn't know if she wanted the bad news or not. "The mistakes are more with grammar."

It took a very long hour to explain to this aspirant teacher how the English language was constructed.

That evening Remus shut himself up in his study, promising himself that he would only write until it was time to start cooking. But of course he became completely absorbed in his essay ("Discuss three major difficulties in teaching Geometry in Year Three, and evaluate the most common solutions") and did not raise his head until an overpoweringly sweet odour from the next room told him that Ariadne had arrived home.

He was contrite; once again, there was no dinner. He opened her door softly. The room had no hearth, but Ariadne had built a brazier for her cauldron in the centre of the room. The cauldron was softly steaming, throwing the rich sweet aroma all over the room, but Ariadne herself was standing near the shelves, inspecting a cage of rats.

"A new rat poison?" Remus asked.

"As bad as," Ariadne agreed. "How is your essay, Remus? You said it was about geometry... Is that like Muggle Transfiguration?"

"I suppose there is a similarity. But Year Three means seven-year-olds. They don't learn vectors and vertices. I only have to write about teaching children about areas and perimeters... You're changing the subject! Are you back on diet pills for rats?"

"I am not; the diet pills are finally out of my life. Our report is to be published, and we might work on a Muggle-friendly translation later. But Professor Jigger is thinking I might finally be ready to work on my sleeping draught. I'll be doing something useful for a change."

"So these rats... are you putting them to sleep?"

"It appears not." She lifted a rat out of the cage and showed him. And the rodent was not a rat after all, nor was it a guinea pig; it was covered with a thick white fleece, and its nose was distinctly rounded, and its ears hung long and low.

"Is this a new breed of sheep?"

She placed it back in the cage. "Unfortunately, it's a rat. The potion did not work. Results like this are the reason why unsupervised experimental research is illegal."

"Unsupervised?" He stepped back. "Doesn't Professor Jigger know about this?"

"It's irrational, is it not? Professor Jigger supervises my feeding diet pills to rats. The first batch dies, and that's the price of science. I feed my own potion to rats. They turn into sheep, and that's unethical."

"So why isn't Professor Jigger working with you on this?"

"I'd stopped hoping that he might... accept new ideas. I had to make a beginning by myself. Remus, it's late. Did you begin cooking? We've yet time to make a cheese soufflé."

* * * * * * *

Remus submitted his final essay and recovered from the November full moon (he had to miss the last day of lectures).

"About going to Foss," he said to Ariadne. "I expect it's no good mentioning this to you..."

"But you're wanting me to bide in Pitlochry."

"I want you to stay alive."

"But the Macnairs are away. Whatever jinxes are on the castle itself... can it hurt if I go to the edge of the boundary, and no further? When you say you're seeing the castle, I'll stop."

"I don't see how that would be any more interesting than staying in Pitlochry – although it would be possibly less safe."

"I'm thinking Veleta will maybe come out of the castle to speak to us. But if she cannot or will not do that, I'll return to Pitlochry while you and Kingsley go inside."

Remus had to accept this promise. His first weekend of exam revision coincided with Kingsley's, so they all abandoned their books and took the Knight Bus into Pitlochry.

It seemed a long stroll along the River Tummel, a more deathly march even than the hike of two years earlier. Remus did not let go of Ariadne's hand, but her fingers lay in his like lead, soft and cold and heavy. He shouldn't have brought her to the home of the people who had tried to kill her. Even though the Macnairs were away from home, he should have overruled her. What would it matter if she became angry, if she never spoke to him again? She would be alive.

Kingsley broke the silence with, "Have you thought how we're going to get out if things turn ugly? It might not be the type of place from which we can Disapparate."

"If I must, I'll make an illegal Portkey, and hang the consequences," said Remus shortly.

Ariadne's lead fingers stirred. He crushed her hand briefly and kept walking.

No-one spoke again until the village of Foss came into sight. Then Ariadne suddenly stopped short and exclaimed, "She's there!"

A small figure had appeared ahead of them, standing alone on a grassy plain between the trees and the village. To Remus, she was just a grey-gowned blur who might have been wearing a filet. But Kingsley had stopped walking too.

"Merlin's beard! It is Veleta!"

Remus gripped Ariadne's hand before she could have any ideas about racing on ahead.

Kingsley was staring as if he had never before quite believed in Veleta's survival. It was a long moment before he said: "We must be close to the castle boundary. Ariadne, don't move another step until I tell you it's safe."

Remus expected a protest, but Ariadne only nodded and asked, "Why are you thinking we can see Veleta, when we cannot see the castle or anything else within the boundary?"

Kingsley took the lead; Remus and Ariadne followed. The grey-gowned figure waved to them, and soon Remus could see that she was indeed the brown-eyed woman whom he had met inside the castle last month. At a distance of twenty paces, she called: "Can you hear me?"

"Yes," said Kingsley.

"Don't come any closer." By this time they were so close that they did not need to raise their voices, but they stopped obediently. "Can you see me?"

"Yes."

"Mr and Mrs Lupin must stay where they are, but Mr Shacklebolt may step forward."

Remus caught Kingsley's eye: Is this a trap?

Kingsley shrugged, and stepped forward. He held out his arms to their hostess as if he were about to hug her, then changed his mind and dropped them, for she was gazing at him with all the politeness of a stranger.

"We need to talk about safety," she said. She bent down and went through the motion of lifting something, then settled her arms, as if she had just picked up an invisible person. She continued, "This whole castle is booby-trapped. The boundary is right there, between Mr Shacklebolt and Mr Lupin. It repels Muggles, and people outside it can't see the castle. I cannot move beyond it, so I can't come any closer to you. More importantly, the boundary is cursed to kill any Banned wizard who tries to cross it. I've lately discovered that Mr and Mrs Lupin are both Banned."

Instinctively, Remus drew Ariadne back a pace, and said, "I entered safely last month. What has changed?"

"As soon as you had gone, Toady – that's our bailiff – entered my chamber and asked who you were. I showed him the cosmetics you had sold me, but he didn't believe me. He reminded me that, since I have enemies, Master does not allow me to receive visitors. He extracted the grease of Miss Dearborn's fingerprints from the cologne bottle, and that of Mr Lupin from the receipt. Humphrey Macnair came home from Korea to cast the Banning Curse on you both. I knew you would drop down dead as soon as you touched the Macnair boundary, but I had no way to warn you not to return."

"So you watched," Ariadne filled in the gap. "You Locospected Remus and Hestia every day, so that you could come and warn them in person if they tried to approach."

The huge chocolate-brown eyes widened in alarm, as the woman slowly nodded. "I asked Humphrey if the Aurors who came last spring were also enemies," she said, "but he said no, they were just doing their job, and they were no danger to me if I did not contact them again. But he said that the Aurors had come because two enemies had sent them, and that he knew the names of those enemies, and that he had Banned them."

"And you already knew who Ivor and I were," Ariadne supplied, "because you had already Locospected the Aurors until you found out the names of the people who had begun the inquiry."

Their hostess opened her mouth, then shook her head. Locospection was evidently a forbidden topic. "I know the names of Ariadne MacDougal and Ivor Jones," was all she could say. "Humphrey Macnair has returned to Korea, but he instructed the house-elves to look out for enemies. It's only a matter of time before they find me talking to you today – and then one of the Macnairs will come home and Ban Mr Shacklebolt too."

"What you're saying is," said Kingsley, "that no-one can visit you more than once."

He might have said more, but something apparently cut off his speech. The brown-eyed woman seemed distracted, then turned her attention back to them.

"What happened?" asked Remus.

"Did you not see?" said Ariadne. "The lassie tripped over, and Veleta picked her up."

"What lassie – ?"

"My daughter, Mary." Their hostess held out her arms in surprise. "Can't you see her?"

"This is complicated," said Kingsley. "I don't think Remus can see your children – or hear them. I couldn't before I crossed the boundary. If it comes to that, I don't understand how he and Ariadne can see you, since they're outside the boundary-line."

"I don't understand it myself," she said. "Certainly no-one beyond the boundary-line can see the castle or anything inside its walls. But I've noticed before that some of us – mainly the house-elves – become visible when we're between the wall and the boundary."

"But your bairns..." mused Ariadne, almost dreamily. "Even beyond the boundary, they are visible to me, yet not to Remus or Kingsley. Yet we all saw you, Veleta..."

"Never mind that," Kingsley told her suddenly. "It doesn't matter exactly how the magic works. The point is, we can see Veleta, but this is probably our last chance to see her, since the Macnair house-elves are spying on her every move. Veleta..."

It took a moment for the brown-eyed woman to respond. "Sorry, that's your name for me, isn't it? You think I'm someone called Veleta Vablatsky. And you think I've had my memory magically suppressed."

"That much can be checked quite easily," said Kingsley. "Do you want me to try?"

"Of course I do!"

Ariadne gasped so loudly that Remus Conjured a rug, a yard further back than they had been standing, and pulled her down to sit on it. "Remember," he whispered in her ear, "you're Death-cursed. You can't afford to become too interested." He tightened an arm around her waist. "Keep your mind on that boundary."

"I know. But she sounded so... so Veleta-like just then."

Kingsley had thrown a spell at the brown-eyed woman. "Exhibeo Memorias Modi!"

Bright green light streamed off her forehead, danced a wavy pattern, and faded.

"The spell works. Exhibeo Memorias Rei!"

This time a silvery-blue light glanced off her head, twisted around, and faded.

"Exhibeo Memorias Sui!"

A rosy glow shone for an instant, sputtered, and abruptly died.

Kingsley stood poised for a moment, as if waiting for something to happen, and then said, "That explains everything."

Remus felt that it didn't explain much to him, and evidently the brown-eyed woman was no wiser.

"There are different kinds of memory," said Kingsley. "Veleta, there's no damage to your memory for how to do things – ordinary things like walking and knitting and riding a broomstick – if anything, I'd say someone's been dosing you with potions that artificially enhance that part of your memory. And there's no damage to your memory for facts and ideas – you'd have no problem reciting the multiplication table, or naming the goblin rebellions. But your personal memory... the way you remember your own life-history... that only seems to go back about five years. Then it just dies, quite suddenly. It's what I'd expect in a five-year-old child – there's simply no memory at all of anything that happened more than five years ago."

"No, there isn't," the woman agreed. "I could have told you that."

"Personal memories don't disappear that completely unless they've been deliberately wiped."

"But that's what I've been telling you!"

"You could have been lying to trap us." Kingsley's tone was so business-like that the others forgot to take offence. "But we know now that you weren't. You really don't have those memories. They can be brought back... but, really, it's a job that I'd rather leave to the experts."

"But you can't do that to me!" The brown eyes were huge and moist with sudden desperation. "I can't pass the castle boundary... and Healers won't leave St Mungo's to come to me! And it's only a matter of time before someone interrupts us here today. If you don't restore my memory now, it will probably never happen. Mr Shacklebolt, can't you do anything?"

"No. Only a qualified Healer could break through a charm as powerful as the one that's been placed on you. If I tried to reverse it, I'd probably do irreparable damage to the rest of your mind in the process. What we have to do is take you to St Mungo's."

The woman laughed bitterly. "If I walk through the magical barrier, will you give me a lift on your flying carpet?" She moved, as if to put down something she had been carrying, and threw herself towards them. The angle was so sharp that she should have fallen, but instead she remained diagonal in the air, as if an invisible wall were supporting her. "See, it's solid. I can't come any further. And your friends not only can't cross, they'll die if they try."

"Can you Apparate?" asked Kingsley without much hope.

"Of course not. And even if I could in general, the charm that keeps me inside the barrier would probably prevent my Disapparating too."

"Floo?"

"I am not authorised to travel through the castle's Floo network."

"Then we must make a Portkey. A Portkey is a powerful instrument; the reason it's illegal is that it works under all kinds of conditions where Apparition is prevented. Do you have anything, Remus?"

"I'll make it," said Remus suddenly. "We'll be in trouble, and Kingsley can't afford to be thrown out of Auror training." He took a Runic dictionary from his pocket. "Portus." The book glowed blue, shivered, and lay still. "I've set it to Transport to St Mungo's in ninety seconds."

He threw, and Kingsley caught it. The brown-eyed woman looked sceptical, but all she said was, "Mary."

Kingsley made a swooping grab and apparently picked up something in his left arm. The brown-eyed woman also picked up some invisible burden and settled it on her right arm. Kingsley held out the dictionary, and the woman gripped its other end with her free hand.

They looked at each other.

"You think I should know you, don't you?" she said. "I'm sorry. I don't."

Remus heard a catch in Ariadne's throat. She stood up on the rug, without moving forward, but trying to meet her friend's eye.

"I'm sorry," said the woman to Ariadne. "Perhaps I knew you too. I hope I did. But perhaps I've been Watching a stranger."

Ariadne nodded and waited. Remus tried not to count the seconds.

Suddenly Kingsley, the woman and the dictionary had vanished. And Remus was screaming Ariadne's name before he was consciously aware that she had leapt forward. His heart stopped beating as he grabbed for her, but she was beyond his reach, hurtling towards the invisible barrier.

And the world moved in slow motion as Ariadne was flung backwards and fell lifeless to the earth.