A Collusion of Moon-Cursers

CHAPTER TWENTY

St Mungo's Hospital, London; Old Basford, Nottingham; Sherwood Forest.

Rated PG for Ministry corruption and environmental destruction.

"Mr Lupin, your wife is perfectly well," Healer Smethwyck repeated. "The werewolf didn't touch her. It is you who are suffering from shock. So keep drinking that potion while I talk about bites."

Remus took a token sip. This liquid didn't smell like any of Ariadne's morning-after potions. Ariadne was smiling encouragingly in the hard-backed chair next to his own, but of course she would claim to feel perfectly well in order to protect the werewolf community.

"Can you imagine the horror of my Mediwizards when they arrived in Spurge Street to find a dozen Transformed werewolves, and one solitary girl casting Stunners at one wolf while she patted another on the head like a dog? Her claim that only one of the wolves was dangerous – and not the one who was howling – would be very difficult to explain in polite society."

Remus gave a low laugh as he set his empty goblet on the table. He was not a member of polite society. And surely last night had destroyed Ariadne's final chance of pretending that she was. Now she must grow up and realise the true consequences of her actions.

"What I need to know, Mr Lupin," said the Healer, "is how much you remember about last night."

"After the Mediwizards Stunned us, we revived in hospital, and you tested the werewolves all night. A Mediwitch took a blood sample, and your assistant was taking notes on reflexes and memory, and you were trying to assess literacy and reasoning and... No, I don't remember all those tests. There were too many of them. And I remember Ariadne telling you that it was no good trying to do the reasoning test on Connell because it wasn't the kind of thing he could do even in his own body, but I didn't hear much of the rest of your conversation with her."

"In other words, you do remember last night. That drug you've all been illegally imbibing... it's no mere sedative. There seems little doubt about Mrs Lupin's claim that it allows a werewolf to keep his human mind."

There was nothing to say to that.

"It doesn't look good for your friend Mr Oldfang. There are three witnesses that he tried to bite Mrs Lupin, and now we have evidence that he was in full possession of his right mind at the time. I wonder, Mr Lupin, why Oldfang was so set on – quite literally – biting the hand that was feeding him?"

Remus had been tormenting himself with that question all night. "We never trusted Oldfang," he said. "He isn't – isn't a friend."

"We dripped Veritaserum onto Oldfang's tongue the second the moon set," said the Healer. "He admitted that he had acted under the order of Walden Macnair, who is apparently a longstanding acquaintance of his. Oldfang says that the Ministry doesn't yet know about a Muggle whom he killed last year, and Macnair threatened to report him unless he bit Mrs Lupin. I am rather interested to know how Macnair could uncover Oldfang's personal secrets like that, and why he would wish to harm Mrs Lupin."

Remus held his head in his hands, not knowing where to begin.

But Ariadne did not seem worried. "It is all right to explain, Remus. Healer Smethwyck, there is a Locospector at Macnair Castle. I'm not knowing why the Macnairs would set her to watch Oldfang in particular, but they probably spy on all their acquaintance in the hope of uncovering guilty secrets. It would be an obvious strategy to have her watch werewolves at the full moon. And they are wanting to punish me because I've been trying to help the Locospector escape... oh, a long story... but that's why they'd send Oldfang to bite me, and why he'd have to agree."

"I heard Glenda Chittock's wireless broadcast about the captive Locospector," said Healer Smethwyck. "So it was a true story, was it? And you were behind it? That explains why the culprits would want to punish you."

"No, it doesn't," said Remus. His wits were creeping back to him through the morning-after fatigue. "Oldfang first came to us in May – before Glenda Chittock's indiscreet broadcast."

"But that was after Sarah's indiscreet visit to Veleta's parlour. And after Richard's indiscreet aerial survey. I'm thinking the Macnairs have been watching us for a long time... that we've no privacy at home, because they're maybe spying on us at any time... that they were intending Oldfang to attack us even before Glenda spoke..."

"Enough," interrupted Healer Smethwyck. "You have plenty of witnesses. I can call the Aurors now and have them arrest Oldfang. The problem is, I can't report this case without incriminating Mrs Lupin for brewing her illegal potions. You tell me, Mr Lupin... do you want the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to know about all this?"

Of course he did. He would be glad if Oldfang met the silver bullet. But the truth was, Oldfang hadn't bitten Ariadne, and his arrest would be unlikely to lead to the prosecution of any of the Macnairs. It wouldn't help Veleta, but it would brew up a cauldron of trouble for Ariadne and her illegal potions.

"No," he said. "If we can drop charges... but it's only a matter of time before the Macnairs punish Ariadne by reporting the Wolfsbane Potion."

"I hope Mrs Lupin will not be so foolish as to brew anything else illegal in her own home," said the Healer. "It seems that Ankarad Murray's granddaughter is willing to travel a long road in placing the science of healing ahead of the letter of the law. But it really isn't safe – legally or medically – to brew such a toxic and controversial potion anywhere except in a hospital. Mrs Lupin, I will arrange to keep you out of trouble, but you must give me your word that from now on you will brew the Wolfsbane only under my supervision."

That was the last thing Remus had expected to hear from a respectable Healer.

"I'm sure you understand that this is not the first time that politics has stood in the way of healing," Smethwyck continued. "Should Muggles be informed of the cure for Bubonic plague? Should we give them a hint on how to prevent smallpox? Should we share the secret of how to defeat a Dementor?" The Healer Summoned a yellow folder and brought out a document. It was set with the crisp type of the Western Journal of Apothecarism, but it was dated autumn 1916, and the header began:

Murray, A. P., and Smethwyck, H. C.

Resuscitation from the presence of Dementors

Remus ran his eye down the abstract, but Ariadne was quicker. "Did my grandmother write this? Was she responsible for the discovery that chocolate is the remedy for being drained by a Dementor?"

"She and I together. It was very unpopular when we first discovered it. There was all kinds of fuss that people might sneak chocolate in to their friends in Azkaban, and that Dementor-victims who deserved to suffer would miss out on their punishment, while no-one outside of Azkaban was ever in danger of meeting a Dementor anyway. The Ministry suppressed every known copy of this article within twenty-four hours of its printing. If I hadn't happened to do a Zerocso on it an hour earlier I'd never have been able to prove my authorship. The tables were turned, of course, twenty-five years later, when the Dementors were loosed from Azkaban during the Muggle war. That's when unquestionably innocent people began to need the chocolate remedy. Anyway, my point is, if an article looks at all controversial and even a little interesting, I know to make a Zerocso immediately. This one, for example."

The second document had identical print, but it was dated spring 1987.

Belby, D. F., Jigger, A. C., Jigger, B. L., and Lupin, A. F.

Hope for treating Lycanthropy

"I have the recipe, so we can brew the Wolfsbane Potion here. It will be very illegal, and there will always be the risk that someone in the werewolf community will turn against us and report us. But it will be safer, since we have the facilities here to keep the Transformed wolves under surveillance, and it will be more efficient, because we can organise Portkeys to transport those without access to Floo. So you must both promise me that you won't take any more risks in your own home."

Ariadne looked doubtful, but Remus swiftly interposed, "I can promise that without hesitation. We will definitely not be playing at hotels and hospitals again."

Ariadne smiled weakly.

"Next month, Mrs Lupin, you may visit me here after work to check that we are brewing it correctly, but otherwise you must concentrate on your apprenticeship. In August your apprenticeship will be finished, and I suggest you take a holiday. Then in September... if you have no other plans, you should consider returning here permanently." He brought another document out of his folder, florid Edwardian lime-green script glittering on lush pink paper. "The sudden creation of a new full-time post would arouse too many questions, so I can only offer you twenty hours a week. But it's a genuine research fellowship, and it will take you to Masters level in the end."

Twenty hours a week. That sounded blissful. Remus clamped back the shout, "Take it, take it!" Instead, he sat quietly, while Ariadne, of her own volition, picked up the quill and signed her name in lime-green ink.

* * * * * * *

Remus flew through his final week of revision. The concepts in Practical Pointers for the Prudent Pedagogue leapt off the page, and he could have written out his notes on "The Child, the Family and Society" blindfolded. All he had to do was study, and he already knew the material thoroughly.

Ariadne – when she was home – tiptoed around the house. She barely asked him after his day before fading into her own pile of notes. She placed Muting Charms on her cooking pots and a Silencer on the washing machine. Visitors were dismissed with a soft, "I'm sorry I cannot invite you in, but Remus is studying for his finals."

He knew she was avoiding speaking to him, so one evening he caught her around the waist as she handed him a mug of tea and asked, "Ariadne, haven't you anything to say? Aren't you happy about having a job?"

"Of course I am, but we can talk about that later."

"Aren't you worried about what the Macnairs might do next?"

A shadow crossed her face, but her tone was cheerful. "I am not. I've spoken to Madam Bones, and she's made it all right. I'll explain later... but we'll have no more trouble."

He wasn't unduly worried by her saying no more. She obviously had reached some kind of understanding with Madam Bones. The Wolfsbane Potion would continue to be brewed, at no extra trouble to themselves. Her future job would be short hours. Only a few days more, he promised himself, and then we'll have time to talk. Everything was going to be all right.

His exams were all right too. He wrote twice as much as anyone else, yet his pen flew across the booklets so fast that he still managed to leave both exams early. He joined his classmates for drinks in the Little John afterwards, but he sat quietly in the corner, nursing a tomato juice while their conversation washed over him.

On Friday evening Ariadne kept him talking about his exam and job prospects. On Saturday she had to go to work. In the evening they went out to dinner with Ivor and Hestia. So it was Sunday before Remus had Ariadne to himself. She agreed to follow him through their fireplace to the public Floo at Edwinstowe, and out into Sherwood Forest.

* * * * * * *

The sun was emerging from a flat grey sky for the first time in months as they wandered onto the track through the birches. It was several minutes before Remus dared to break the peaceful atmosphere with the question, "What happened between you and Madam Bones?"

Ariadne seemed ready to discuss this much. "She personally checked all the files in the Aurors' office. Scrimgeour was not best pleased, but she gave him no choice. And the end of it is... Auror Scrimgeour has had to make a deal with the Macnair family." She picked up a birch branch, and hurled it with uncharacteristic force into a clump of ferns. "They'll drop their libel case against Glenda and cease all attacks on me – on all our friends. Any further assault will reflect very, very badly on them. But in return..." She grabbed a handful of fern and shredded it mindlessly. "Veleta's file has been closed. If she's yet not willing to speak in her own defence, it's to be assumed that she's not wishing to do so. So her own word that she is happy in the Macnair household is to be accepted as an absolute proof of the Macnairs' innocence."

Remus was surprised that Ariadne had accepted this.

"Of course I'm not happy about it." Her blue eyes were moist. "But Madam Bones gave me no choice. She says she's worrying about my safety, and is not wanting to wait until I'm already dead before acting. Whereas whatever they're doing to Veleta is not... not life-threatening." She frowned. "So Madam Bones has placed Veleta's file in her private safe at home, and has promised that the M.L.E. will never again intervene unless something happens to me. Remus, you're knowing what this means, are you not?"

"It means you're safe," he blundered, then amended, "Yes, I know, it also means that we've reached an impasse in the Veleta situation. There's to be no more help from the Law."

"I'm understanding why Madam Bones acted as she did, but I'd not have asked her for help if I'd known that she'd make bargains with criminals. My original query was only whether she could help prevent the – the spying."

Remus had tried not to dwell on that distasteful thought. At any time, in any place, Veleta might be forced under Imperius to watch them, to invade their innermost privacy, and then to reveal their secrets under Veritaserum. "And can she?"

"The only way would be to arrest Veleta for abusing her magical powers. That would most likely end with Veleta in Azkaban, while the Macnairs could probably employ a good enough barrister to keep them from being incriminated. So we cannot pursue that. Dearest, I'm knowing it's horrible, but it will not be forever. Veleta has always been so careful not to abuse her gift. I'm thinking she would spy on us as little as she could, and lie to the Macnairs as much as she could... she will not tell them anything really important. And they'll lose interest in the end... they'll stop forcing her... once it's clear that we're no further threat..."

She looked so sad at the thought of being no further threat that he remembered that he was keeping a secret from her. "Ariadne, we won't give up yet. I... I've something to tell you. When Richard visited Veleta a few weeks ago she suggested to him that the essential spells that are holding her children in the castle might be Runic magic. If we dusted off our Elder Futhark spells..." He trailed off.

Ariadne was staring at him very oddly, her eyes very large. Slowly, she stepped backwards, and seated herself on a convenient oak log just off the track. She held out her hand to draw him to sit down beside her – her fingers were suddenly icy. When he had arranged himself on the log, and she had arranged her thoughts, she spoke in the lowest whisper.

"Had you a message from Veleta that you did not tell me?"

"You were so busy... with work, and with brewing Wolfsbane, and then with the Macnairs... I didn't want to lay another task on you."

"I see." She bit down whatever words might otherwise escape. "So you decided for me... you were protecting me..." Her voice was so soft that it was almost drowned out by the breeze in the leaves above them.

"Yes, I did it to protect you." He was disconcertingly uncertain of her thoughts, but he knew he did not dare reach for the hands that lay stiffly still in her lap. "Ariadne, are you angry with me?"

She nodded slightly. "When you hide... when you treat me... when you overrule... Remus, I do understand why you were wanting to protect me!"

Suddenly he wanted her to lose her temper. At least then she would be telling the truth about whatever she was really feeling. But already Ariadne had expressed as much anger as she ever would, and, seated on the other end of their fallen log, she seemed a mile away...

"Ariadne," he said, "did you never keep a secret to protect someone?"

Her head whipped around to face him, and her mouth fell open in shock. "Well... of course... of course I'd not deliberately tell somebody something that would hurt him!" She recovered. "Remus, I do understand that you were protecting me. But I'm not liking it. Would you be liking...?" But her voice faded again, as some new thought struck her.

"No, I wouldn't like it if you 'protected' me by not telling me something. But I'd understand it. Ariadne, did you ever think to protect me by keeping silent?"

"You're already knowing I did," she said on a tremble. "I worked on the Wolfsbane Potion for three years before I told you about it, rather than risk a disappointment."

"What else did you never tell me?"

She seemed to move several inches closer and she looked right at him. "I've never liked to ask why you're so dutiful about visiting Mrs Pettigrew."

The words sounded like a test, but he had no idea what he had to say to pass. "What? She's my friend's mother... my last link with my past..."

"But you're not liking her."

There was a small explosion in his head, as if he were seeing sunlight for the first time, and he found himself trying out the words that had never before formed in his mind. "I don't like her." They rang true. "You're right, I suppose I don't. But she's lonely and unhappy, and no-one else bothers with her much..."

"But they do! She told me that she goes to her Muggle neighbours' coffee mornings three times a week, and to the Witches' Institute for craft classes and excursions at least twice. And the local council and a couple of the churches are always keeping in touch with her. But she's not liking any of these people – she complains that they're not interested in hearing about Peter. Remus, when Mrs Pettigrew talks about her son she makes me feel that... that I'd not have liked Peter."

It was unnerving to hear his most private and unconfessed feelings so clearly verbalised, but Mrs Pettigrew's influence had sometimes engendered disloyal thoughts towards the memory of Peter. "Do you think," he asked her, "that Mrs Pettigrew would be very distressed if we stopped visiting her?"

"I'm thinking she'd not even notice. She's not able to distinguish one person's attention from another's."

Remus was meanly glad to acknowledge that they need not maintain contact with Mrs Pettigrew, but he knew that this wasn't really what Ariadne had been hiding. "That wasn't so terrible," he said. "Is there anything else you've avoided telling me – something you've hidden to protect me?"

"Why should there be?" She paused to read his face, and her own flushed with shame. "Remus, I'm not liking... really not liking... to say what will hurt you."

"So there is something." He took her hand and her fingers curled around his. "Ariadne... if you're disappointed in our life together... in me... I'd rather know."

The flush vanished. Completely stunned, she asked, "How could you be thinking... of course I'm not disappointed... Remus, why should there be a problem with you?"

"I told you that being married to a werewolf would be difficult, and it has been. You must understand that by now."

"But it has not been." Her hands slid up to his shoulders, so that he was forced to look at her full in the face. "We've had our problems, but it's other people who've been difficult. Never you. Why did you not tell me that you were worrying that I...?" Her voice faded again. "Is this another time when you've kept quiet to protect me?"

"We've both been doing that," he conceded.

"And neither of us is liking it," she said.

"Don't protect me any more," he said quickly. "It doesn't make me at all happy that you have a problem that you feel you can't discuss with me. It makes me worry that I'm your problem. So if this problem isn't with me... what is it?"

"I was not wanting to discuss my family problems with you." She swallowed, and summoned her voice. "Kenneth was so unkind – so unfair – so stupid – you were not needing to hear about his nastiness. Remus, he told me more than a year ago that he'd be keeping his family away from us. He's thinking you're some kind of Dark wizard – a danger to his bairns – he will not listen to reason, he's just wanting to stay away from you."

"Is that all?" Remus had to steady himself on the log so as not to float away on the warm waves of relief. "Knowing that Kenneth finds me inadequate is far less hurtful than believing that you might. Sweetheart, don't you think Kenneth might have hurt you more than he could hurt me?"

"I'm sorry." Her cheek nestled comfortably against his shoulder. "There's Glenda. It's nasty of me, but I have not been happy to admit... how angry I'm feeling with her. I'm knowing it's my fault that I never told her not to broadcast Veleta's story, and Glenda has apologised to me for doing it. But I'm still... not feeling the same way about her as a friend."

"That's natural. You may feel better over time."

She nodded, not quite convinced.

"Ariadne, did something happen last autumn? You seemed quite distressed at that time, but you wouldn't tell me about it."

"Remus, it's nothing between the two of us. I'm sorry if you were thinking it was. It's just something Sarah told me about her visit to Veleta... something I'm wishing I did not know..."

"Something that's been haunting you ever since. If you're to be tormented, I want to know why."

She sighed. "Very well, but it's..." She leaned her hands against his shoulders, and studied his face while she spoke. "Veleta told Sarah that the Macnairs sometimes put her under Imperius. One of the worst times was seven years ago. Walden Macnair marched her out to the forest under the full moon..."

He still did not know what was coming, but his stomach lurched anyway.

"... and forced her to cast the Frango charm that broke Connell Dewar's chain. And Connell attacked the nearest person... that is, Caradoc Dearborn. You're remembering that he said that when he Transformed back at moonset, there was a witch standing near him? Remus, that witch was Veleta!"

Bile churned up through his throat, and he did not try to hide his disgust. People did this to werewolves. It wasn't news that Connell had been forced to kill Caradoc. That Veleta had in her turn been forced to release Connell was only one more link in the malicious chain.

"I told you this story was... Anyway, Uncle Macnair lifted the curse from Veleta just as the moon was setting, so that she'd know what she'd done. She saw at once that she or Connell could be in trouble, so she cast the Reducto onto Caradoc's body and repaired Connell's chain. Then she tried to run – this was before she had any children – but of course Uncle Macnair re-cast the Imperius and sent her back inside the castle... oh dear, I should not have told you!"

"Yes, you should." The last knot in his stomach uncurled and melted. Ariadne really had been trying to protect him. "I didn't like what I heard, but I'm glad you told me. Is there any more?"

She shook her head. "Dearest, are you happy now?"

"Yes." Whatever he had been imagining might be wrong, those topics didn't seem relevant any more. Against all odds, her infatuation with him was miraculously intact. "Yes, I am." He helped her up from the log, and she kept her hand clasped in his.

Hand in hand, they walked away from the track, through the oak trees, and further into the forest.

A/N. "Moon-Curser" is slang for a smuggler.