Forbidden Fruit

Chapter 5: Paradise

Tuesday, July 8th

The darkness seemed to last for only a moment, then the whorl of lights resumed in a burst of garish orange and saffron. The invisible barrier that had kept Remus from hurtling through space and time suddenly gave way. His body lurched forward, flung free in a tangential trajectory like a stone from a sling shot.

In the next instant, Remus hurled through a flap of canvas. His knees hit a dirt floor, sending shooting pains up his thighs and clouds of dust into the air. His hands reached forward to break his fall. His wand flew from his grasp. Wormtail slipped from his fingers just before the moment of impact. The ground seemed to rise to meet his face and knock the wind from his lungs. Remus lay still and groaned.

Air, acrid with incense and herbs, filled his nostrils and rushed into his chest. A sudden wave of nausea swept over him. His stomach churned. He vomited into the dirt.

His shaking hand swiped the spittle from his lip. The other reached for his aching head. A feeling worse than any late-night hangover pounded in his brain. He would give anything to make it stop.

His vision swam into focus. He watched the four feet of the rodent patter across the floor in a dizzy, drunken run. A pair of dusty sandals protruding from the hem of an embroidered robe stepped into view and barred the rat's escape. Long, bony fingers grabbed the worm-like tail and hoisted the rat aloft.

"Ah ha!" An old man's croaking laugh rang out. "What is this that has fallen through my door?"

Remus looked up, still struggling to shake off the needles of light and color that jabbed in his head. A careworn and creased face loomed into view. A silken turban wrapped his head. Bushy white brows, singed black in spots, sprung from his forehead and tuffs of beard on the old chin. Brown eyes, bright and intelligent, stared back at him. A gap-toothed grin worked over the aged countenance.

Remus moaned. Saliva and bile spilled onto the earth in another round of illness. He clamped his eyes shut. Where was he? And how did he get here?

His memories came flooding back: the flight, the Portal, the Death Eaters, Sirius and Dorcas. He wrenched his eyes open. Where were his companions?

"There will be time for questions later," said the raspy voice of the old man, as if he had read Remus' thoughts. "Come. You must rest."

The bony fingers clasped upon Remus' arm. Remus tensed and recoiled from the touch. His hand fumbled for the wand that should have been tucked in his belt. But there was no wand. Of course, he had lost it in his fall.

"Resistance is futile," the ancient mage said. His perceptive eyes glistened, vaguely reminiscence of Dumbledore's. "Why do you waste your strength in the fight of a fool?"

The old conjuror must have cast a spell. Remus felt his muscles relax. His resistance evaporated. His pack slipped from his back. The gnarled hands lifted him from the floor and eased him onto a Spartan pallet. Without further explanation, the old man hobbled across the room.

Remus surveyed his surroundings. He lay in the midst of an immense tent woven in bright colors. Bundles of drying herbs hung overhead from hooks on the tent supports. Dried flower heads drooped downward in a myriad of exotic shapes and forms. Several cauldrons lined one wall, steaming vapors rising from their black bellies. Miles of tubing floated in midair above the cauldrons. Vapors collected in their corkscrew turns, condensed into colorful liquids, and dripped into beakers and flasks. This tent was a vast apothecary. This man must be a Healer.

The old wizard, his back to Remus, labored in front of a cupboard. The dresser overflowed with small clay vessels, labeled and stoppered with corks. The nimble fingers selected jars from his stores, extracted pinches of their contents, and added them to his concoction.

The old man approached with a steaming goblet and held it out to Remus. Invisible hands forced Remus into a sitting position. He reached for the goblet held out to him and stared into the vessel. He sniffed. Lemon and herbs. Tea.

"Drink." The old man cackled again. The brown eyes glittered with mirth. "It is not poison."

Remus sipped the brew, savoring the tang of lemon on his tongue and the pleasing blend of other flavors that he could not recognize. The warmth of the beverage permeated his whole body. The pain in his head dulled. Remus took a deeper draught, allowing its healing powers to wash over him.

"Better?" asked the raspy voice.

"Yes, thank you," Remus said. He drained the cup and handed it back.

"We have been expecting you, Mr. Remus Lupin." The old wizard made a low bow in oriental fashion. "I am Ahmed. Welcome to my home."

"Thank you," Remus replied with a polite nod of his head. Then his eyes widened. "H-how do you know my name?" Remus studied the man's face. "Have we met before?"

"Never." The old man shook his head. "But I was told to expect you...We have a mutual friend." The old wizard raised a long, bony finger. "One moment please. I must notify him of your safe arrival."

Ahmed cupped his hands to his wrinkled lips and whispered into them. When he opened them again, a white mist in the shape of a small bird rested in his palm. "Go, little messenger." At his command, the white bird took flight and soared through the tent flap that Remus had fallen through. Remus' eyes widened.

"Is that the Portal?" Remus pointed back at the opening. "Where I came from? You can send messages through there? You can send messages across time?"

"So many questions." Ahmed's croaking laugh rang out again. The dark eyes sparkled with amusement. "I was told that you were an inquisitive one."

The ancient wizard hobbled to the cupboard, and returned carrying a sharp knife and an onion. Remus inched back on the pallet, his muscles tensing again. What was the old man doing?

"What do you see before you?" Ahmed held the onion up before Remus' face.

"An onion." Remus' gaze flicked from the vegetable to the old man's eyes. "But I don't under--"

"Patience." The old wizard wagged a cautionary finger. "Time is like an onion. Ages wrapped upon ages in layers."

With a deft flick of his wrist, the aged Healer sliced the onion in two halves. The pungent aroma filled the tent. Stinging vapors pricked Remus' eyes. He blinked and turned his head away.

"Look closely at the onion," Ahmed said, holding the root aloft. "Tell me, what do you notice about the rings?"

Remus blinked back the moisture in his eyes and stared at the onion. The root vegetable had a deformity, a dimple in the side. Instead of concentric circles of white, the layers pinched together at one point to form heart-shaped cardioids.

"They're deformed," Remus replied. "They thin at one point."

"Ah, yes." The old man grinned, displaying wide gaps between yellow, tea-stained teeth. "Similarly, there are places in time where the fabric is deformed like this onion, and the distance between ages is very thin. At such places, people in different times seem almost to overlap. Almost to touch. Did you not feel it?"

Ah, like the shadows in the excavations. Remus could feel their presence. He could hear their voices, their whispers. The warlock nodded, reading his thoughts.

"And the shadows?" Remus leaned forward on the pallet, his eyes riveted on the old wizard's face. "Do they come through the Portals?"

"No." The old wizard shook his head. "The shadows are shades of a former time. You only feel them where the mantel of time is thin. They tell you of the presence of the Portal."

"But I traveled through the Portal, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did." Ahmed nodded. "But the trip is punishing on the body, is it not? Intentional discomfort to discourage misuse."

"But your message traveled through the Portal?" Remus said, struggling to comprehend.

A flash of brilliant crimson and gold streaked through the flap. A beautiful bird lit on Ahmed's shoulder. Enchanted, eerie birdsong filled the room. Remus would recognize that bird anywhere. Dumbledore's Phoenix.

Ahmed inspected the bird, stroking the downy feathers. He extracted a small roll of parchment tethered to the bird's talons. The minute that the note was taken, the bird flapped his wings and flew away.

The long, nimble fingers unrolled the parchment. His eyes clouded over as they read the message. The bushy brows knitted. The wrinkled lips pursed. Bad news, Remus surmised. Trouble brewing.

"What is it?" Remus asked.

"Ah, it is nothing." Ahmed pocketed the message and turned back to Remus, his face brightening. "Just the pains of an old man. What were we discussing?"

"Messages." Remus motioned toward the flap, where the Phoenix had just been. "That bird, did it pass through the Portal?"

"All things must pass through the Portal to reach this place." The brown eyes of the Healer sparkled with amusement again. "Only one way in, only one way out. But as you can see, some creatures may pass with ease and others with greater difficulty." He picked up Wormtail and handed him back to Remus. "Creatures, like your little friend here, can pass with few ill effects. To our winged friends, the Portal is just another door." The troubled look returned to Ahmed's face. He stared for a moment without appearing to see. Then he jerked his head to face Remus once more. "So many questions. I have time for only one more."

"What is this place?" Remus whispered. "Where am I?"

"Eden." A knowing smile twitched on the wrinkled lips.

Eden? Had he made it to the legendary garden? Could this be real? But this tent hardly resembled a garden.

"The garden lies outside the tents of Ahmed," the old man answered, again reading his thoughts. A thin long finger pointed toward a set of flaps just opposite the ones that Remus had entered. "What you seek can be found there."

Remus' mouth dropped open. Could it be possible? He cast the old mage a questioning look. Ahmed nodded, the brown eyes glittering brightly. Remus rose to his feet and walked to the opening. He lifted the flap and peered out.

Bright sunlight flooded into the tent. Lush foliage of every conceivable shade and shape met his eyes. A tropical paradise unlike anything he had ever seen spread out before him. Perhaps this was some mirage, some residual illusion from his fall.

Remus glanced back into the tent. The laughing eyes of the aged Healer regarded him. The old man shuffled toward him, Remus' wand in his grasp. "I believe this belongs to you." Ahmed nodded again and shooed Remus from the tent. "Go on. Your friends are waiting."

Remus took hold of Wormtail and his wand, and ventured out into the garden. A pleasant breeze caressed his cheek. Moss padded his footfalls and cushioned his steps. All around him spread a vast orchard of fruit trees and vegetation of every conceivable variety known to mankind. Within the trees, birds twittered and chirped, plucking ripe cherries from the branches. Remus surveyed it all, drinking in every detail.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he whispered.

Wormtail gave a squeak of assent, scrambled up his sleeve, and perched on his shoulder. The whiskers tickled against Remus' neck. The small creature twisted this way and that to take in the view. Then the small rodent scrambled to the top of his head.

Beneath a grove of apple trees in the distance, Remus spotted a familiar mane of black hair. Padfoot! At first glance, Sirius appeared to be alone. But as Remus drew closer, he could distinguish another figure standing behind his friend. Dorcas, wearing camouflage fatigues, was harder to spot, but her stiff posture was unmistakable. She had survived the fall through the Portal as well.

"Sirius!" he called out. "Meadowes!"

Sirius turned, his face lighting up at the sound of Remus' voice. "Remus, why you old wolf."

Remus winced at the greeting. Sirius bounded toward him, and embraced him like a long lost brother. Sirius always was the demonstrative one.

Remus returned the gesture, glad to be reunited with his friend. But troubling thoughts filled his conscience. He remembered Sirius' words with Dorcas at the Portal. His friend had not wanted to come here. Would Sirius forgive him for spoiling his plan?

"I...er...We thought we'd lost you," Sirius said in his ear.

"I'm sorry, Padfoot," Remus whispered at the same time. "About your brother...your plan, but there wasn't time."

Sirius straightened, releasing Remus and looking him in the eye. "What?" An unreadable expression passed over Sirius' grey eyes for just a moment. "No...er...you did the right thing." Then the wily grin erupted over his face. He patted Remus' shoulder. "Just like old times, eh? What an adrenaline rush." He glanced up at Wormtail, now balanced on Remus' head. "Even Wormtail here made it."

"Lupin, it's good to see you alive," Dorcas said, approaching him. Her bearing was business-like and professional, but her mouth had softened a little at the edges. "Quick thinking back there at the Portal. Saved the mission. I owe you." She thrust out her hand. "Thanks."

"My pleasure," Remus said, shaking her hand. He managed a half-hearted smile and glanced back at Sirius, trying to gauge his reaction. Whatever Sirius was feeling remained hidden behind a congenial façade.

"What's that on your head?" Dorcas asked, staring the rat perched in Remus' hair.

"What?" Remus had forgotten all about the rodent. A grin of embarrassment worked over his face. He reached Wormtail down. "Oh, you mean, this little thing....erm... my pet rat...Whiskers. S-sort of tagged along."

Sirius snorted behind Dorcas' back. Even Wormtail emitted a squeaking laugh. Damn! He always was a terrible liar. Remus chanced a hopeful glance at Dorcas. Had she bought his fib?

Dorcas' forehead creased in puzzlement. All traces of the faint smile vanished. "Honestly, bringing pets on a mission. What will you two do next?" She shook her head.

Oh, Merlin. He'd botched it again.

"Well, I'll leave you two gentlemen," Dorcas cocked a mocking brow. "I need to speak with Ahmed about the wards." Then she executed a brisk turn and marched off toward the tents.

As soon as she'd gone, Sirius burst into laughter. Wormtail leapt from his perch in Remus' hair, landed on the soft earth, and resumed his human form. The round face lit with mirth. The watery eyes twinkled.

"Way to score points with the boss, Moony." Peter nudged Remus in the ribs and chuckled. "Couldn't think up a better lie, eh?"

"Whiskers, here, could have done better." Sirius clapped Peter on the back and shot him a teasing look.

"Course, I could." Peter's chest puffed out with pride.

That was true. Peter was quick with a fib in a tight spot and could pull it off brilliantly. Remus couldn't count the number of times that Peter's quick tongue had gotten them out of a scrape. He wished he'd had the benefit of that help a few minutes ago. He kicked his foot in the dirt and stared down at the ground, trying to disguise his embarrassment. He searched for another topic. Anything to deflect attention away from his gaff.

"Must have been the trip through that Portal," Remus said, rubbing his forehead. "I'm not in top form." A lame excuse, he knew. But it was the best he could do on the spur of the moment.

"That was wicked." Sirius grimaced. "I haven't felt that bad since that weekend bender in Hogsmeade before Prongs' wedding." The grin crept back over Sirius' face. He shot Remus a meaningful look. The sparkle had returned to the grey eyes. "Except without any of the fun of actually getting drunk."

Remus remembered that weekend all too well. The goal had been to get James rip-roaring drunk before the wedding. But the lot of them had ganged up on Remus instead. Apparently, it was more fun to ply a teetotaler who couldn't hold his liquor with drinks. He'd been as sick as a dog for the wedding. Even Lily had commented on his green complexion. Come to think of it, they'd all looked a bit worse for wear.

Remus chanced a glance at Peter. He was grinning broadly. Apparently, he had remembered that incident too.

"The Portal wasn't that bad," Peter said. "I don't know what you two are complaining about."

"Not that bad?" Sirius shot Peter a look full of scorn. "It took me a full day to get over it, even with the concoctions of that mad chemist."

"A full day?" Remus' head jerked up to stare at Sirius. "But we only just arrived. I know I blacked out...but you went through the Portal only seconds before we did."

"Meadowes and I arrived yesterday, Moony," Sirius said. "It's July eighth. Been five days since we entered the Portal." Sirius dropped his head. His voice grew quiet. "When you didn't show, we...we thought you'd been hit...Didn't make it."

"Five days?" Remus' hand fished in his trouser pocket for his chronometer. Although old, it still kept pretty good time. The tiny ticking gears were still moving even after the all the jolts and spins of the fall. He read the date: Thursday, July 8^th. Remus cast Sirius a puzzled stare. "But that's impossible. I know I blacked out....but I...I couldn't have been out for that long. I don't understand."

"The Portal," Sirius replied. "It steals time."

"That can't be." Peter bent over to read the timepiece in Remus' hand. "I was awake the whole time. We were only in that bloody thing for an instant." Peter's watery eyes shot back up and focused on Sirius' face.

"I wouldn't expect you to understand, Wormtail." Sirius crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at Peter with a haughty expression. "Meadowes and I checked it out. Our chronometers kept accurate time. No tampering. No spells." He nodded in the direction of Ahmed's tents. "And the old man confirmed it."

"That addled old fool." A sneer of derision appeared on Peter's face. "If you ask me, he's gone round the twist. Spent too many days by himself, sniffing the fumes in his laboratory." Peter's eyes darted to Remus. "Eh, Moony?"

Peter was looking for affirmation, an ally against Sirius. But Remus didn't know how to answer. Ahmed was odd. That much was true. But so was Dumbledore for that matter. Crazy as a fox.

Remus fingered his chronometer. The old reliable timepiece had indicated that five days had passed since he'd fallen through the Portal. Sirius said that he'd taken four days to pass through and arrived the day before they did. Why would Sirius lie? As implausible as it sounded, it must be true. Somehow the Portal had absorbed the time. Dumbledore had always said that tampering with time was dangerous.

"I-I don't know." Remus stuffed the timepiece back in his pocket. He kicked his foot against the ground and watched the little clods of rich, brown earth turned up by his boot. His head shot back up. "Ahmed's explanation of the Portal certainly made sense." He cast a pleading glance at Peter. "And you did have an easier time passing through it. Just like he said."

"What's that?" Sirius' grey eyes were trained on Remus' face. He ran a hand through his black hair, the way he did when he was thinking hard.

Remus turned to Sirius. "Ahmed said that animals and birds have an easier time passing through the Portal. The passage is harder for humans...How did he put it?...To...to discourage misuse."

"Any proof?" Sirius' head nodded toward Peter. "Aside from Wormtail here."

"Dumbledore's Phoenix arrived with a message," Remus replied. "It didn't appear to suffer any ill effects. And Ahmed sent a message in the shape of a bird."

"Ahmed sent a message?" Sirius' stare was so intent that Remus wanted to look away, but he held his ground. "Through the Portal?"

"What is it?" Remus asked.

"Could pose a security risk," Sirius replied with a shrug. "I'll have to tell Meadowes."

Remus shot a glance at Wormtail. Peter's expression was inscrutable. What was he thinking? But when Peter caught Remus' look, his face brightened.

"There's something else you should know." Remus looked back at Sirius. "Back in the ruins, I saw...erm...at least I think I saw...Snape."

"Snivelly!" Sirius' face contorted in a look of hatred. "That greasy-haired git."

"What would Snivellus be doing in Santorini?" Peter's eyes grew wide and round.

"His Pocket Crosswords, you idiot." Sirius shot Peter a sarcastic look. "What do you think he's doing? He's up to his old tricks. Spying on us for Lord Voldemort, no doubt."

Remus nodded. That seemed a plausible explanation.

Sirius paced back and forth, beating a path in the moss with his boots. His face screwed up in a look of concentration. His fingers worked in his hair.

Remus looked away, trying to remember the man in the ruins...and the woman. The woman? That part just didn't fit. Perhaps it wasn't Snape after all. What if he was wrong?

"It may not have been him," Remus said. "I can't be sure. I didn't get a good look. At any rate, I don't think he spotted me."

"But someone sent those Death Eaters after us." Sirius spun around to face Remus once more, but his composure had returned.

Peter turned away from his two friends and surveyed the orchard. "So where's this mythical tree we're supposed to be guarding?"

"We haven't located it yet," Sirius replied. A troubled look clouded the grey eyes.

"Maybe there isn't one." A smirk worked over Peter's face.

Sirius ignored Peter's remark and addressed Remus. "According to Ahmed, this is only a small corner of the garden." Sirius gestured around him. "Wards prevent us from traveling to the center where the tree is supposed to be."

"That's because there is no tree." A squeaking snigger erupted from Peter. "I told you, the old man is daft."

Sirius pulled out a piece of fresh parchment, unfolded it, and held it out for Remus and Peter to see. Detailed sketches filled only a small portion of one corner. An incomplete map.

"Meadowes and I began mapping the garden and the wards today," Sirius said. "We'll need to complete it to assess the security and formulate a plan of defense." His finger pointed to a sketch of some tents in the corner of the map. "We are here."

Remus glanced over at Peter. Wormtail's snigger had fallen silent. He stared at the beginnings of the magical map with his mouth agape. His nose twitched. The nervous tic.