Forbidden Fruit

Chapter 4: Through the Portal

Thursday, July 3, 1980 8:00 hours

The warm sun beat down on Remus' bare head, as he trekked down the dirt path to the archeological excavations at Akrotiri. Sweat soaked his cotton button-down shirt even at this early morning hour. This day was going to be a scorcher.

A canvas knapsack chafed against his shoulder. All his belongings had been shrunk down and transferred into this pack. One of Dorcas' brilliant ideas. You've got to look like a Muggle tourist. How could those Muggles stand these ruddy things?

Wormtail rode in a side pocket of the knapsack. The pink nose and whiskers peeked out at intervals to assess their progress, tickling Remus' arm. "Lucky chap," Remus whispered, half to himself. "Getting a free ride in this heat."

In the lead, Dorcas' sandals slapped against the path with a military stride. Remus could see the back of her head, wrapped in a white scarf. Her dark brown hair, pulled back into a ponytail, swayed in rhythm to the beat.

Just ahead, Sirius stopped and shifted his knapsack to his other shoulder. "Hey, Meadowes," he called. "Hold up."

Sirius pulled out a water bottle, took a swig, then dumped some of the liquid on his black hair. Water trickled down onto his t-shirt in rivulets. The clear liquid mingled with sweat, causing his shirt to cling to his chest.

Dorcas pulled up short and spun around to face Sirius. Her flowing skirt spiraled around her long legs. She hadn't even broken a sweat.

"What's the matter, Black?" Dorcas said, peering over the top of a pair of dark sunglasses. Her lips curled into a challenging smirk. "Can't take the heat?"

Sirius winced. "Easy for you to say, Meadowes," he shot back with a scowl. "What the hell did you put in your luggage?" He pulled the knapsack off of his shoulder. His bicep bulged under the weight of the pack. "This thing must weigh four stone."

"Well, I didn't ask you to carry my things." Dorcas flashed him a sly grin. "You insisted."

"Fine," Sirius snapped. "Carry your own suitcase."

The knapsack hit the ground with a sound reminiscent of a bowling ball hitting nine pins. Sirius opened the pack. A leather valise lay tucked among his belongings. He unceremoniously dumped the valise into the dirt and cinched his pack shut. Remus' eyebrows shot up. What had she packed in that little case?

Dorcas seemed unfazed. She whipped out her wand, aimed it at the case, and whispered "Mobilifollis. Accio." Instantly, the case floated into the air and disappeared into the woven handbag that she carried. She turned and marched down the path. To the average eye, the handbag appeared to dangle from Dorcas' shoulder. But Remus could see it levitate and glide by her side, guided by a gentle push from her hand. Good Godric! Why hadn't he thought of that?

Remus glanced over at Sirius. His companion exhaled a stream of swear words in a whispered rush. Then Sirius shot Remus a disgruntled look.

"Don't look at me, Padfoot," Remus said with a shrug. "You're the brains of this operation."

Wormtail's pink nose and beady eyes peeked from the pocket of Remus' pack. The rodent emitted a squeaking laugh. Sirius' grey eyes narrowed, staring daggers at the Animagus. His nostrils flared.

"Careful, Wormtail." Sirius whipped his wand from his belt and pointed it at the rodent. "You don't want to wet yourself all over Moony's things."

The rat squeaked and disappeared back into Remus' pack. But Sirius turned and trained his wand on his own pack. "Mobilifollis." The canvas bag levitated into the air. Sirius slung the knapsack on his back and turned to follow Dorcas down the trail. Remus did the same with his pack, his load now much lighter.

The pathway led to a kiosk at the entrance to the excavations. Tourists had already started queuing up for tickets. Dorcas stood waiting for Sirius and Remus. Her head was bent over the glossy brochure in her hands. Remus approached and surveyed the document, a map of the archeological ruins.

"The excavations house the remains of a Minoan city dating from 1000 B.C..." Dorcas read aloud. "...Among the many valuable discoveries were the famous frescoes." She glanced over the top of her sunglasses at Sirius and Remus. Her finger skimmed the map and tapped on a spot deep within the excavations. "The frescoes have been moved to the National Archeological Museum in Athens, but the spot were they were taken from can be found here."

Ah, their meeting spot. Remus rehearsed the instructions that Dorcas had given them earlier that morning. Blend in with the other tourists. Make your way to the designated meeting spot, the site of the Portal. Once we're all gathered at the site, I'll activate the Portal and we'll pass through.

"Here are your tickets and maps," Dorcas said, handing small slips of paper and site brochures to Remus and Sirius. "I think we should split up. Blend in with the crowd. And watch for the guards."

Dorcas cast a stealthy glance over Remus' shoulder at the tourists in line. He watched a small shiver travel over her features. Odd in this heat.

"What's wrong?" he whispered, casting a quick glance at the crowd.

"Nothing," Dorcas whispered back, her face resuming its confident look.

"Come on, Meadowes," Sirius said. His grey eyes bored into her face. His hand gripped her arm. "What is it?"

Dorcas faltered. Doubt flashed in the brown eyes. "Woman's intuition, I guess." She chanced another glimpse at the crowd. "Something doesn't feel quite right...Ever since that sneakoscope went off yesterday, I get the feeling..." She shook her head and pulled free of Sirius' grasp. "Never mind. It's nothing. We're wasting time."

Without looking back, Dorcas marched off to join the line of tourists. Sirius' eyes were glued to Dorcas' retreating form. His expression reflected his puzzlement.

"Women," he mused with a shrug.

Sirius trudged off after her, his boots sending little clouds of dust into the dry air with every step. Remus watched Sirius disappear into the crowd.

The glossy paper of the map felt smooth between his fingers. He tore his eyes from Sirius and studied the map, mentally marking a path to the site of the frescoes. Then he folded the map and joined the line of people funneling into the tourist attraction.

A large group of Germans gathered in front of him. A tour guide gave instructions, the guttural tones tripping from her tongue. The blond hair and fair complexions of the Germans stood in stark contrast to her dark hair and olive skin. Remus shuffled in behind them, pretending to listen. Today, he was glad to look the part of the foreign tourist.

Remus descended into the excavations. The coolness of the caves tingled when it met the sweat on his skin. A maze of scaffolding supported a roof overhead and shielded him from the morning sun. Yellowish spotlights bathed the ancient stones of the city in a golden glow in dim imitation of the celestial orb. Rubble and broken walls outlined what had been dwellings, bustling streets, and busy squares.

Remus could feel the age of the place seep into his bones. In the low light, it seemed as if the shadows of former inhabitants still walked the same stones that he trod. He cocked his head and listened. Perhaps it was just the babble of the tourists, their languages blending into an unintelligible foreign tangle. But he thought he heard a more ancient tongue among them, the language of people long dead that had once dwelt here.

Snide mutterings in a familiar voice cut short his reverie. He twisted around to catch a brief glimpse of a man with greasy, black hair and a hooked nose. The man turned his back to Remus and continued what appeared to be an intimate conversation with a woman. Could it be? What was Snape doing here?

The mere speculation piqued Remus' curiosity. He edged closer and shot furtive glances at the couple, while pretending to study his map. Their conversation was carried on in sotto voce whispers now. He could not catch even a single phrase amid the babble of the other tourists. He chanced a bolder glance.

One of the Germans shouldered his way forward, blocking Remus' view of the man. But Remus got a better look at the woman. She was Greek, not British. Dark hair, olive complexion, eyes that flashed with passion, and clothing that clung to every sumptuous curve.

What would a woman like that be doing with Severus? Some woman somewhere might possibly find Snape attractive. After all, there was no accounting for taste. But the thought raised some uncomfortable questions. If Snivellus could land a woman like that, what was wrong with him? Remus jerked his head, shaking the notion from his mind. That couldn't be Severus. It just couldn't be.

Remus glanced up again. The couple had moved away, heading toward the remains of a two-story structure. Just opposite the direction that he needed to go to meet up with Sirius and Dorcas. He must stay focused on the mission.

Remus turned abruptly and almost stumbled into one of the Greek security guards patrolling the exhibit. The guard straightened and surveyed Remus up and down. His mustache bristled.

"S-sorry," Remus said, backing away and ducking in among the German tour group.

Remus planted himself in the middle of the pack of German tourists. Out of the corner of his eye, he peered at the security guard. The man's dark stare was still fixed on him. Of all the bad luck! Just what he didn't need now.

The tour group began to move off in the wrong direction. Remus' gaze flitted from the security guard to the archway that led to the frescoes. How could he get past that guard without being spotted? He needed a solution and he needed it now.

Out of sheer instinct, his hand inched toward the wand tucked into his belt. His fingers stroked the smooth wooden handle. He mouthed the incantation. A cold, tingling sensation trickled down his body, as the Disillusionment Charm took effect. He glanced down at his hand. A shimmering outline took the shape of his palm and fingers, but reflected the pattern of the cobblestones on the street. His body was still solid, but camouflaged to match his surroundings.

Remus slipped between the German tourists, taking care not to jostle anyone. He threaded his way to the side of the cave, right past the security guard. The man's mouth hung open. His dark brows were knitted in a look of puzzlement, his black eyes staring with disbelief into the crowd of German tourists. Remus headed through the entrance to the frescoes, suppressing a chuckle.

There were few tourists in this part of the exhibit. Remus quickened his pace. His shadow glided across the walls, reflecting his movements. His body remained camouflaged against the amber stone and rock. His eyes caught glimpses of phantoms mingling with his dark shadow on the walls. In the tense silence, the whispers of ages past grew louder in his ears. Eerie haunted voices of people long dead.

Remus reached for his wand and rounded another corner. Replicas of the historic frescoes were painted on the far wall of this chamber in a roped-off area. A plaque designated this as the location of the original frescoes. The room appeared devoid of people.

"It's about time, Lupin," Dorcas' exasperated voice whispered from the shadows. "Hurry."

"Where have you been, Moony?" Sirius whispered.

Remus squinted in the direction of the voices. A shimmering figure with shapely curves moved against the backdrop of the frescoes. The outline of a tall man hovered next to her. Remus stepped over the rope and approached them.

"I-I'm sorry," Remus pointed back over his shoulder. "But there's something you should--"

"We don't have time for that," Dorcas snapped.

Remus heard a crinkling sound. A yellowed parchment appeared, supported in midair by Dorcas' transparent hand. Remus glanced at the paper. Two phrases were scrawled across the parchment in Dumbledore's handwriting. He could not get a good look at the first, but the second contained a single word: Paradiso.

"Ecce sto ad ostium et pulsio." Dorcas whispered the incantation.

The fresco behind them began to glow with a celestial blue light. Remus raised his arm to shield his eyes from the blinding beam, but his arm only reflected the harsh radiation back into his face. Damned Disillusionment Charm.

He jerked his head away. When the glare subsided, he turned back. A crystalline lintel and the side posts of a doorway had materialized in the midst of the fresco. Smoky mists billowed and churned within the door frame. The Portal.

"And now for our destination," Dorcas whispered.

Remus heard sounds of a scuffle. The parchment ripped from Dorcas' hand. She gasped.

"Give that back, Black," Dorcas said, a dangerous edge in her voice. "That's an order."

"No." Sirius' voice echoed in the chamber in a low growl. "Listen, Meadowes. Just hear me out. We have a chance to end this war once and for all. Don't you see? Take the Portal back to 1970, hunt Voldemort down, and kill him."

"Black, I have my orders. I will not go off on some rogue mission." Dorcas lunged for Sirius, but his shadow danced out of reach.

"Meadowes...Dorcas." Sirius' voice sounded desperate, pleading. "Forget Eden. Think of the lives we can save. Lives we can get back."

Remus didn't have to see Sirius' face to know what his friend was thinking. The corpse of Regulus Black, Sirius' younger brother, surfaced in his thoughts. Remus could hear the raw emotion in Sirius' voice, the same bitterness that had marked their conversation two months ago. My brother...stupid idiot...joined the Death Eaters...trying to be a right little hero. He got in so far, then panicked. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. They killed him...snuffed him out. Remus understood. He choked back a ragged breath.

"Black!" Dorcas' misty profile straightened, standing eye to eye with Sirius. "Don't force me to pull rank."

"Damn you and your rules, Meadowes," Sirius barked. "Just think. We can end this now."

Red sparks from a wand ignited in front of the Portal. Dorcas' cry of surprise filled the chamber. Remus could just distinguish the outline of Sirius' arm staying Dorcas' hand. Then their hazy silhouettes clashed and merged in front of the enchanted doorway.

Something jostled against Remus' arm. He overbalanced and pitched sideways. Wormtail emitted a shrill squeak from the confines of the knapsack. The rodent scrambled from the pack and scampered to the floor.

"No, Wormtail," Remus said, reaching for his wand.

A blast of light stopped the rat in his furry little tracks. Remus pounced on Wormtail, clutching him in his fist. The rodent struggled in his grasp, twisting and biting. The worm-like tail whipped against Remus' hand.

"Calm down, Wormtail," Remus whispered. "I've got you."

Crouched on his elbows and knees with Wormtail in one hand and his wand in the other, Remus looked up. New shadows, inky black and menacing, slithered across the walls toward him. The hairs on the back of Remus' neck stood on end. These weren't harmless spirits, remnants of a past time, but rather real demons.

He blinked. Slinking shadow took corporeal form. Six Death Eaters materialized before his eyes.

"Impedimenta!" Remus yelled.

A jet of red light flew from his wand. The spell hit, blazing against the chest of the nearest Death Eater. A crimson glow illuminated the startled expression on the man's face. The force of the hex blasted him off his feet into the hooded and robed bodies of two others.

Remus scrambled to his feet, fired off another hex, and rushed toward the Portal. There was no time to spare. No time for arguments. Padfoot would forgive him for what he was about to do. Remus headed for the hazy silhouettes of Sirius and Dorcas, frozen in surprise in front of the Portal.

"Paradiso!" he yelled, gripping Wormtail in hand.

He barreled into Sirius and Dorcas with all his might. He felt the solid resistance of their bodies against his chest. But the force proved sufficient. All four bodies hurtled through the Portal.

The instant he crossed the threshold of the Portal, Remus' body was thrown flat against an invisible barrier. The view around him tilted and whirled past his startled eyes. His stomach lurched. Centrifugal force pinned his arms and legs to the sides of an enormous spinning Catherine wheel. He was unable to move a muscle. He gritted his teeth and struggled to keep hold of the trembling rodent in his hand.

He spiraled downward in rushing current of wind. Spinning out of control. Bolts of red and green light burst past his vision. Rainbow shards swirled around him in a manic dance of color. Images blended into a sickening blur.

He clenched his eyes shut, but the visions would not stop. His twenty years flashed before his eyes. A celluloid history replayed in rapid reverse.

Dorcas giving him instructions that morning...Peter's horrified expression at Marlene McKinnon's funeral...Emmeline's kiss... Lily in a wedding gown with laughing green eyes...Severus' ashen face starring at him through the entrance to the Shrieking Shack... a buck loping across the lawns of Hogwarts with a rodent riding on its antlers and a shaggy black dog nipping at its heels...the gaping mouth of a savage wolf clamping down on his leg...his mother crooning a lullaby...a burst of light...a dark tunnel...then nothingness.