Forbidden Fruit

Chapter 6: Corner of Heaven

Saturday, July 12

Remus surveyed the thick wall of fog before him that marked the boundary of the wards protecting the Garden of Eden. The smoky barrier hung before his vision. The boundary appeared flimsy and ethereal, a mere cloud or mist. Leaf and shadow were visible through the barrier in shades of dull grayish green. He felt as if he could pass right through. His hand shot forward to grope his way in the mist, but his fingers jammed into an invisible solid barrier. He winced, and jerked his stinging hand away.

"Hard to tell where it starts, eh mate?" Sirius flashed Remus a roguish grin.

"Don't let him needle you, Lupin," Dorcas said. She cast a look of reproach at Sirius. "Even an experienced professional would have difficulty with this."

Sirius' barking laugh rang out in response. "She'd be the last to admit it, mate, but she ran smack into it the first day."

Dorcas stiffened and frowned. Sirius cocked his head. A lopsided grin worked over his features. Remus suppressed a chuckle and massaged his smarting fingers.

"There's only one sure way to know where the barrier starts," Dorcas said. "Black, you know what to do." Dorcas gave her head a sharp nod.

Sirius pointed his wand at the bank of fog. The hex he fired slammed into the barrier in a flash of light and discharged. Veins of electricity crackled across the surface, demarking the wall. Remus jumped clear, as the charge dissipated near him. Dorcas approached and inspected the point of impact.

"Nothing," she said, running her hand over the wall. "Not a dent." She flashed Sirius a knowing stare. "Just like Ahmed said. It's impenetrable."

"Try a shot over the top." Remus gave his head an upward nod.

Sirius fired off a bright red flare. The hex blazed in a graceful crimson arc high above the barrier of fog. As the hex crossed the barrier, a golden light shot from the mist and intercepted the hex like a hawk closing in on its prey. The magical charm exploded. Plumes of smoke and scarlet rays blossomed in the sky overhead.

"Seems secure to me." Dorcas crossed her arms over her chest and flashed a self-confident smile. "Looks like we've got ourselves as easy assignment this time."

Remus pulled a parchment from the back pocket of his trousers. He unfolded the paper and pointed his wand at the barrier. "Scripsi aedificium." A trail of ink flowed across the map in his hand, completing the sketch of the wards.

A black border outlined a large rectangular area on the map with a corner notched out. Detailed diagrams filled only this eastern corner of the map. A stream bisected the rectangle. But apart from that, the area within the black boundary appeared blank.

"That's the last of it," Remus said, handing the completed map over to Dorcas.

Dorcas surveyed the map. Sirius positioned himself behind her, and peered at the map over her shoulder. He reached around her to point to the empty space in the middle.

"Where do you suppose the tree is, Meadowes?" Sirius asked, his lip right next to Dorcas' ear.

Dorcas edged away and bristled. "According to Ahmed, it's in the very center." She pointed a slender finger at the center of the map to a spot where the stream bed turned in an arc around some unseen obstacle. "It's supposed to be fed by this stream. So I'm guessing that it's right about there." Her finger tapped on the crook in the brook.

Sirius crinkled his brow and stared. Remus could see the thoughts working in his head. But whatever he was thinking, he kept it to himself.

"Well, that's a wrap." Dorcas refolded the map. "We've tested the entire periphery. I don't see any weak spots." A challenging smirk played on her lips. "I'd like to see What's-His-Name get through that." She handed the map back to Remus with a brusque motion of her hand. "Lupin, Black, take this map back to the tents for safe keeping."

Remus took the map and turned to go. Sirius started after him. Remus glanced over his shoulder at his friend. The dark brows knitted and the grey eyes sparkled. Remus knew that look.

"What's up, Padfoot?" he asked.

"Nothing," Sirius replied, with a shrug. But then, Sirius stopped short. "Look, Moony. I need to check something out." He motioned toward Ahmed's tents. "You go on. I'll catch up with you later."

Sirius spun around and bounded back through the orchards with the enthusiasm of a playful puppy.

"Meadowes," Remus thought. A wry grin worked over his face. He shook his head. "He never gives up."

* * *

Remus lifted the flap of canvas, ducked, and entered the tent. Smells of cardamom, sandalwood, and smoky incense met his nostrils. He blinked to adjust to the dim candlelight within the Healer's tent. He strode to his pack, opened it, and stowed the map.

Wormtail's little bed, nestled within a clean shirt in the pack, was empty. Where had the rodent gone? Remus surveyed the tent. Wormtail was nowhere to be seen.

Ahmed stooped over his cupboards, grinding ingredients with a mortar and pestle. Beside him on the dresser lay a stack of parchment and an ink quill. Next to the papers, an injured sparrow twitched and twittered.

The old Healer seemed distracted and absorbed in his work. Remus could hear him muttering under his breath. The bushy brows joined in a scowl.

"Crows," Ahmed whispered, audibly this time. "Again the crows."

Remus hesitated for a moment. Perhaps he should leave the old man to his work.

"Ah, Lupin," Ahmed said, looking up from his mortar. The worry that had clouded the old face instantly faded. "Your assistance, please? My little friend here is injured and I am in need of an extra pair of hands."

Remus approached the cupboard. The sparrow lay on its side. The tiny heart pounded and the bird shook with fright. One wing was held open at an odd angle. A broken wing.

"What would you like me to do?" Remus shot Ahmed an apologetic look. "You should know that I've never been very good with potions."

"I know." The brown eyes of the healer glittered with amusement. The turbaned head nodded. "But I need your hands."

He scooped the tiny bird in his long, bony fingers and placed the trembling creature in Remus' hands. Remus looked from the little bird back to Ahmed with a questioning glance. But Ahmed had turned back to his mortar, dumped the ingredients into a larger vessel, and kneaded it into wet, reddish clay. The wrinkled face turned back to Remus.

"Now hold open the broken wing," Ahmed said. He nodded at Remus with an encouraging look. "Gently now."

Remus took hold of the wing, feeling the bird shudder in his fingers. The nimble hands of the Healer scooped up some of the mud from his bowl and gently dabbed it on the broken joint. The wrinkled lips pursed and blew softly on the wing to dry the mud.

"There now." Ahmed pointed a bony finger toward a shallow basin filled with clean water. "Into the water."

Remus stared at the old man in disbelief. What did he mean? Did Ahmed really want him to drop the bird into the basin of water? It would drown.

The bushy brows of the old wizard rose with expectation. "Into the water."

Remus hesitated. He hoped that the old warlock knew what he was doing. The commanding gaze of the Healer was locked on his face. The little sparrow slid from his fingers into the water.

The sparrow began to flutter the minute it entered the basin. One tiny wing, then two, beat against the surface, sending droplets splashing across the countertop and the parchment. In the next instant, the bird spread its wings and soared into the air. It circled the room twice and then disappeared through the flap of the tent, completely restored.

Remus' mouth fell open. "But how?"

A wide gap-toothed grin swept over the wizened face. Ahmed cackled. "The mud when mixed with the waters of the spring has the power to heal physical injury." The old man's eyes fell to the angry red scars that crisscrossed the backs of Remus' hands, then darted up to Remus' face. "It can work for you, too."

Remus stuffed his hands into his pockets, hiding the scars from view. "I...I'm fine. Thank you."

Ahmed shrugged, pushed the basin of clay aside, and turned back to his work. Remus shuffled his feet in self-conscious silence. He looked around, hoping for some question that would steer the conversation away from him. He caught sight of the water-spattered parchment on the table. The droplets had smudged the ink, but the words were still legible. Laboratory notes on the properties of aconite.

Remus read the words written in English: Experiments have shown that aconite in a potion form can reduce dementia. Without access to suitable test subjects, my experiments are inconclusive; but I have great confidence that this might be of use to the medical community in the treatment of...A long list of ailments followed, but one word among them leapt out at Remus. Lycanthropy.

"These experiments." Remus gestured toward the stack of parchments. "They are your work?"

"Yes." The sharp eyes glanced up to lock on Remus with a knowing stare. "You see, the garden is full of plants, some found no where else on the earth. Plants with healing powers." His hand swept in a gesture toward the beakers and cauldrons around the room. "I study the plants and their extracts, and record my findings. I have partners in the medical community who review my work and send me their results. Experiments on human subjects are impossible here naturally." The old healer took a step toward Remus. The brown eyes glittered. "You are interested?"

Remus took a step back. What was the old man getting at? Was the Healer suggesting that he become a test subject for one of these odd experiments? That couldn't be. Remus gulped and looked back at the parchment.

"Of course, I'm interested in your findings." Remus pointed toward the parchments. "What's this bit about aconite, if you don't mind my asking?"

"The latest of my work." Ahmed shuffled the papers to reveal a parchment entitled Wolfsbane and its Effects on Dementia. "It is still in the experimental stages."

He motioned toward a stem with lobed leaves and spikes of helmet-shaped blue flowers lying on the dresser. Remus reached for it. The Healer's bony fingers seized Remus' wrist.

"Careful," Ahmed said. "All parts of the plant are highly poisonous."

"I didn't know." Remus jerked his hand away. "But if it's poisonous, then how can it cure anything?"

"That is the difficulty," Ahmed said. "The extracts must be mixed in precise proportion. Too much and the potion becomes deadly. Not enough and the result is unpleasant, but ineffective." He shuffled the papers again to reveal the beginnings of a potions recipe. "It is a very complex procedure."

"May I?" Remus gestured toward the parchments.

"Of course." The turbaned head nodded again.

Remus scanned the potion. Six pages of detailed instructions. Twenty-three separate ingredients in more than one hundred steps. He swallowed hard and replaced the parchments on the pile. The potion was far more complicated than anything he could manage.

"Does it work?" Remus asked. His eyes locked on the old Healer with an earnest stare, not daring to hope.

"Time will tell." A mysterious twinkle glistened in the old eyes. "The preliminary results look promising. But there are still a few wrinkles to work out."

Remus stared down at his boots to hide his disappointment. Of course, he'd been foolish to hope for a cure.

He felt Ahmed's hand on his shoulder. His head shot up to stare into the wrinkled face of the Healer. The old man knew. Ahmed knew his secret. The scarred trails across the backs of his hands had betrayed it.

"Try the mud." Ahmed thrust the pot of clay paste into Remus' hands. A gap-toothed smile overcame the old face. "Just smear it on and wash in the river."

Remus swallowed hard and stared down at the reddish slurry in the bowl. "Will...will it erase...the scars?"

The old man's cackling laugh rang out in the tents. "Erase the scars? No!"

Remus' head shot up with a questioning stare. What good was the clay then, if it could not even take away the scars?

"It takes away the shame," Ahmed said, in reply to his unspoken thoughts. "The scars, they are badges of courage."

His scars? Badges of courage? Wormtail was right. The old man was completely daft.

"Try the mud," Ahmed said.

The brown eyes glinted. Just the way Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes twinkled behind the half-moon spectacles. Without knowing why, Remus nodded, took the basin, and walked out of the tent in the direction of the river.

* * *

Remus knelt down at the bank of a large, deep pool. Above him, a spring flowed from a crevice in the gray rock. The water burbled in conversation and spilled in rills over the stony face. It swirled and danced in gay little eddies in the pool, then trickled over the edge to form a stream that ran down into the garden.

"This is lunacy," Remus muttered under his breath. "Sheer lunacy."

Still, he dipped a finger in the mud and smeared it over the red scars on the backs of his hands. The clay slurry felt cool and soothing on his skin. Then he dipped his hands in the waters of the pool and washed the clay from them. Instantly, healing warmth penetrated his skin to the bone. He pulled his hands from the water and inspected the backs. The burning red trails that had crisscrossed his skin had faded to faint silvery lines. He stared in disbelief. Gone. The scars were nearly gone.

Remus could not contain his excitement. He shot a quick glance around the periphery of the pool to make sure that no one was watching. Then he stripped off his clothing and hid it along with his wand among the underbrush that surrounded the pool. His hands worked quickly to smear the magical clay mixture over every scar on his torso. The pale landscape of flesh was soon covered with terra cotta paths of mud like an ancient warrior preparing for battle.

When every scar was concealed under a layer of clay, Remus dove into the pool. He swam through the clear waters. Weightlessness seemed to overtake him. The red stain of mud washed clean from his body, taking with it every tainted scar and feeling of pain. Warmth swept over and around him with the swirling current. Remus had never felt so free.

In the middle of the pool, Remus thrust his head from the water. He stood chest deep in the largest eddy and swiped his wet hair from his eyes. Eagerly, he inspected the restored skin on his arms, his fingers tracing the faded silvery trails. Joy burst from his lungs in a deep chuckling laugh.

Other voices emerged from the surrounding trees. Remus recognized Sirius' barking laugh. But then a distinctly female giggle joined in. Meadowes. Bollocks!

He had no intention of getting caught starkers, especially by a woman. He glanced toward the bushes to where his clothes were hidden. Could he get to them in time? Too late.

Sirius and Dorcas strolled into view. Remus plunged under the water and resurfaced under a ledge of rock that jutted out over the edge of the pool. Crouched in this hiding place, he could see Sirius and Dorcas heading his way, but they had not spotted him. The bush that hid his clothes lay between him and them. No way to get there without being seen. What could he do?

Dorcas marched with her usual military stride to the edge of the pool. Sirius followed in dogged pursuit. He grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him.

"Aw, come on, Meadowes," he said. The confident swagger gave way. The tall shoulders dropped a notch. The grey eyes took on their saddest puppy look. "You know you want it."

"Stop it, Black." Dorcas jerked her arm away.

"Loosen up." Sirius ran a caressing hand over her shoulder. "You're wound up tighter than a spring. Why don't you ever let that gorgeous hair of yours down?" He whipped his hand around to tug at the pins that held her hair in place.

With catlike reflexes, Dorcas turned and grabbed his wrist. She shot him a commanding stare. "You have no idea what it's like to be a woman in the Auror corps. We work twice as hard as you gents to get half the respect. Just once, I wish you could spend a day in my shoes."

"I would," Sirius replied, with a charming smile. "But I don't think they'd fit."

"You and your wise-arse sidekick, Potter, think everything is fun and games." Dorcas swatted his hand away and stalked off.

"It was a joke." Sirius raised both hands in a pleading gesture. "I have nothing but respect for you, Meadowes."

Dorcas turned, leaned back against the trunk of a large elm tree, and crossed her arms over her chest. The pattern on her camouflage fatigues changed instantly to blend in with the bark of the tree. The ruby lips turned down in a pout.

A rakish grin worked over Sirius' face. He moved in close and rested one arm against the tree. Dorcas' body stiffened.

Poor Padfoot. Dorcas was going to slap him any minute. Remus tore his eyes away. He didn't want to witness this.

Remus' hand fumbled behind his back for the wand that should have been tucked into his belt. No belt. No trousers. Just skin. Damn! His wand was under that bush with the rest of his clothing. How could he be so careless?

He needed to get out of here. And, for that, he needed a diversion. Remus' hand felt along the edge of the rock shelf, grabbing for loose gravel or anything he could find. Anything that he could throw to draw Sirius and Dorcas away from the pool. His fingers closed around a smooth, round pebble.

"Don't, Sirius." Dorcas' voice floated over the pool in a breathless whisper. "Someone might be watching."

"Damn your rules," Sirius whispered in a low growl. "I'm sick of hiding our relationship. Of pretending that there's nothing going on between us."

What? Remus dropped the pebble and straightened with a jerk. His head slammed into the underside of the rock ledge. He suppressed a groan and massaged the lump rising from his scalp. He glanced over at Sirius and Dorcas.

Remus watched Dorcas' stiff angles melt into smooth, round curves. Her limbs intertwined with Sirius'. The camouflage fatigues changed to black, blending seamlessly with Padfoot's trademark wardrobe. They were...

No. Remus shook his head. It must be some residual illusion from hitting his head. He blinked to clear his vision. But reality could not be denied. Dorcas and Sirius were kissing. Merlin's Beard! Sirius and Meadowes were lovers, after all.

A lover's tryst was the last thing Remus wanted to see. He had to get out of here, but how? He took a breath and plunged back under the cooling water. His fingers dug down in the soft muddy bottom of the pool, searching for pebbles. He scooped up three and surfaced as silently as he could.

He drew back his arm to lob a rock. A tingling sensation traveled the length of his arm and down his spine. His senses heightened; his hearing sharpened. The brook still babbled, but there was a sound missing. The birds. The constant chirping and twittering of the birds had fallen silent.

A single harsh croak from a raven sliced the air. Then the orchard filled with the sound of beating wings. Remus glanced up at the sky darkened with birds, thousands of birds fleeing to the skies. What was happening?

Sirius and Dorcas broke off their kiss. Dorcas' body straightened into the familiar military posture, all business again. Her fingers flew to extract her wand from its holster.

"Look, over there," Dorcas shouted. Her wand pointed to the skies. "Come on."

From his hiding place, Remus could not see what she pointed at, but he knew it meant trouble. Dorcas sprinted into the gardens with Sirius hot on her heels. Remus scrambled up the bank, no longer caring if he was seen. He grabbed his clothes, dove behind a pile of scrub brush, and pulled on his clothing. His trousers and shirt stuck to his dripping body. He cursed and forced them on.

Great billows of black smoke rose over the trees of the orchard in the direction of Ahmed's tents. Blazing green sparks in the midst of the smoke lit an unmistakable signal. A skull with a snake slithering from its gaping mouth. The Dark Mark!

Remus jumped to his feet and ran toward the signal. Leaves and branches whipped against his face and arms. He ran heedless of their stinging stripes. Ahmed! Please, let him be alive.