Forbidden Fruit

Chapter 7: A Snake in the Garden

Saturday, July 12

The Dark Mark sparked above Ahmed's tents, glowing poisonous green through a haze of grey. Smoke billowed from a breach in the canvas. But there was no sign of the Death Eaters or the aged Healer.

Remus raced to the tent, stuffed the sleeve of his damp shirt over his nose and mouth, and lifted the flap. Toxic clouds poured from the opening, stinging his eyes and catching in his throat. Remus clutched the shirt tighter to his face, crouched low, and felt his way into the tent.

Dried herbs hanging from the ceiling burned brightly, like so many torches. The macabre dance of the lights illuminated the ruin within. Every cupboard, pallet, cauldron, and kettle had been upended. Shards of pottery, spilled ingredients, and Ahmed's papers littered the floor. Remus' gaze locked on ghostly appendages protruding from under the overturned potions cupboard. A hand with long bony fingers clutched a crinkled parchment. His worst fears were confirmed.

Remus reached for his wand and sputtered an incantation. The heavy cupboard creaked and groaned as it righted itself. Remus stumbled forward. His hands swiped away the papers and debris to uncover the lifeless body. The singed brows of the ancient mage were frozen in an expression of permanent surprise. The brown eyes that once sparkled with life, now stared unseeing. Ahmed was the victim of a Killing Curse that had siphoned the life from his limbs.

Remus closed the lids over the unseeing eyes. He had arrived too late. Nothing further could be done. Moisture pricked in his eyes. He blinked it back and turned away. Damn!

Ash and sparks drifted from the ceiling in greater numbers, like snows of hell. He glanced down at the parchments scattered over the floor...Ahmed's research...his hope. Tongues of fire licked at the corners of the nearest sheaf. Remus reached for the parchment, then withdrew his hand. He needed to get out now. No time to waste.

He turned to go. His arm brushed against the crinkled parchment in the old Healer's hand. He shot a glance at the bony fingers through eyes stinging with smoke. The map. What was Ahmed doing with the map? Was it a clue?

Remus worked to pry the parchment from his fingers. First one finger, then two... A loud pop sounded above his head. Showers of sparks rained down on him. A burning ember landed on his back. Remus howled and yanked the parchment from the stiff fingers.

He dashed from the tent, just as the central support beam collapsed. Sputtering and coughing, Remus pitched free from the ensnaring canvas. He turned back to see the tent implode on itself in a funeral pier of flame and billowing black smoke. He looked away, unable to watch the inferno.

Remus leaned against a nearby tree to catch his breath, willing the fresh air into his burning lungs. Where were Sirius and Dorcas? He'd last seen them by the pool and could have sworn they'd come this way. But where were they now? He looked around, but could see no sign of his companions.

Remus glanced down at the map of the garden. The wrinkled and torn paper between his fingers felt warm, but not from fire. A tingle that he recognized as ancient magic warmed his hands. His fingers smoothed open the crinkled page. No longer blank in the middle, the parchment was now covered with diagrams showing every detail of the Garden of Eden. The barrier that they had recorded with pain-staking effort was gone. The map had changed.

Remus raised the parchment to his face and studied the page. Where were the barriers? Were there no protections left?

He planted his finger on the pool of healing and traced the course of the stream through the garden. His finger paused where the barrier should have been. He lifted his head and squinted through the trees, hoping for any sign of a barrier. There was none.

Only one thing to do. Remus raised his wand and Disapparated. Crack! He reappeared in the midst of the stream bed. His head whipped around at every sound, every snap of a limb or crunch of a leaf. His body tensed, poised to strike. But the only living sounds that reached his ears were the pounding of his own heart and the distant caw of a raven.

He glanced down at the water lapping against his boots. Red. He spun around, tripping over the cobbles in the stream bed. The dead body of a Death Eater lay slumped in the water not ten meters from his feet, his spilled blood tainting the stream. Merlin's Beard!

Remus gasped and stepped back. He glanced downstream to see more lifeless corpses littering the banks, their hooded cloaks now serving as shrouds. The barrier--where was it? And what had killed these men?

Remus glanced down at the map in his left hand. He was standing right next to where the barrier should have been. No enchanted mist. No magic wards. Only the stream and orchards as far as his eyes could see.

The barrier should have been right in front of him. He raised his wand and whispered an incantation. His hex went winging in an uninterrupted trajectory and blasted into the trunk of an old oak further downstream. A flurry of leaves and bark shot into the air. A frightened squeal came from behind the tree. Remus tensed and trained his wand at the sound.

"M-m-moony, old f-f-friend." Peter stepped from his hiding place in the brush under the old oak with his hands raised over his head. "P-p-please, d-don't hex."

Peter's face was bathed in sweat. His eyes were as wide and round as an owl's. His nose twitched uncontrollably. Remus' eyes widened. He lowered his wand.

"Peter!" Remus bounded down the bank of the stream toward his companion and clasped Peter's shoulders. "Sorry, mate. Are you all right?"

Peter nodded, but his whole body trembled. His watery eyes locked on Remus with an urgency that he had never seen before. "Listen, Moony. You've got to get out of here. We've got to get out of here."

"Why?" Remus stared hard into Peter's face. "What's happened? Where's Sirius?"

"Back there." Peter jabbed a stubby finger back over his shoulder. His voice quavered. He shook his head. "He wouldn't listen to me. The sodding idiot wouldn't come."

Remus glanced downstream in the direction that Peter had indicated, then he turned back to face Peter. "Where has he gone?"

"He's gone with Dorcas." Peter's voice broke. The nose twitched again. "To the center of the garden. To fight V--"

"Voldemort?"

Peter nodded. "H-h-he's here. In the garden." His fingers gripped Remus' sleeve and tugged. "We've got to get out of here."

Remus could see how frightened Peter was, but he also remembered Dumbledore's words. Voldemort must not succeed. Sirius had remembered his mission. Remus would not let his friend die alone. He steeled his resolve, and turned from Peter to march downstream.

"Wait!" Peter tore at Remus' sleeve. "Where are you going?"

"To help Sirius." Remus turned back to Peter. "It's my mission, but it's not yours. You weren't called to this."

"But--" Peter's mouth fell open. The one who was always so quick with a quip or a lie to get them out of a sticky situation stood speechless.

Remus swallowed hard. He knew what his friend was thinking. This could be their last...goodbye.

He pulled Peter toward him and embraced his friend. Then he wrenched himself away. He stared back upstream, remembering the joy and freedom of the healing pool.

"Listen," Remus said, turning back to Peter. "There's a pool and a spring, the source of this stream. You'll be safe there. I'll meet you when this is all over." He clapped Peter on the shoulder and averted his gaze. "I promise." He always was a terrible liar.

Remus turned away from Peter and trudged downriver, picking his way along the bank. He had made his choice. He set his course for the center of the garden and did not look back.

* * *

Shouts of battle rang through the trees. Remus knew he was nearing the center of the garden. He took a quick glance at the map in his hand. The words "Ligno Vitea" glowed in golden letters, indicating a spot just up ahead. The Tree of Life.

He thrust the map in his pocket, took a deep breath, readied his wand, and burst into the clearing. Flashes of red and green blazed past his vision, hexes arcing through the air. Hooded and masked Death Eaters, more than he could count, battled. In their midst, Sirius and Dorcas stood back to back, fighting to hold them off. The air crackled with the sound of their hexes and counter curses.

Remus charged forward and blindsided the nearest Death Eater with a Slashing Curse to his opponent's wand arm. The Death Eater spun to face Remus, teeth clenched with fury. "Impendimenta!" Remus' curse slammed into the Death Eater's chest in a blast of light. The force of the curse hurtled the man into the air and bowled him into several of his comrades.

A blaze of heat rocketed past Remus' ear. He spun around. The largest Death Eater he had ever seen lumbered toward him. The mouth bellowed a roar of rage. The wand in the massive fist rose high and prepared to strike. Remus pointed his wand and muttered the first syllables of a defensive charm. "Proteg--"

Then white-hot light glinted behind the Death Eater. A flaming sword held by an unseen hand appeared and sliced through the air with a ringing sound. Remus' mouth dropped open, stunned, his words forgotten.

The razor-sharp blade flashed again, cleaving the Death Eater in two with a single swift motion. The body of the slain warrior pitched toward Remus and crashed into the dirt. Remus staggered backward, away from the body and the deadly singing blade. His mind reeled. A Death Eater he could fight, but how does one battle an unseen enemy with a weapon of such might?

A loud crack to his immediate right brought Remus back to his senses. He spun to see a curse rebound away from him, deflected by a Shielding Charm. Sirius darted in front of him, his face flushed with the exhilaration of battle.

"Glad you made it, Moony," Sirius said in panting breaths. He sported a rakish grin and gave a nod toward the sword. "Lucky they're on our side."

"They?" Remus shot a questioning glance at Sirius. "There's more than one?"

A Death Eater's curse interrupted Sirius' response. With a quick flick of the wand, Sirius fired off another defensive maneuver and took off in pursuit of the Death Eater.

Remus chanced a glance at the flaming sword hovering in front of a tree laden with golden fruit. Merlin's Beard! He hoped the sword knew which side he was on.

A Slashing Hex whizzed past Remus' left arm, tearing his shirt and nicking his skin. The hex cut with the precision of a sharp razorblade. Blood oozed from the wound, staining his shirt with crimson droplets. Stinging pain followed seconds later as the air hit torn flesh. Remus gritted his teeth and shrugged off the pain. No time for that now.

He spotted his assailant across the clearing. The sniggering face of the Death Eater egged him on. "Petrificus Totalis!" Remus fired off another hex, scoring a direct hit on the laughing Death Eater. The mocking smile froze on the man's face. His limbs stiffened and snapped to his sides. Then he toppled over into the dirt, stiff as a board.

"Good one, Lupin," Dorcas said.

She nodded her approval and dashed past Remus to engage another Death Eater in battle. Her camouflage fatigues had changed to dappled spots, blending with the light and shadow of the sun through the trees. Remus watched her strike with the skill of a Nundu on the hunt, sleek and stealthy. Another Death Eater down.

The croaking caw of a raven drowned out the cries of battle. All at once, the Death Eaters raised their wands in unison as if in obedience to a higher order. One by one, they Disapparated in a series of cracks and pops, going off like the fireworks at the Quidditch Cup.

Remus spun around and aimed his wand first at one empty space and then another. The Death Eaters were gone, leaving behind only the corpses of their dead comrades. Both Sirius and Dorcas stood tense and alert, wands at the ready. Their faces held similar expressions of puzzlement. What the hell was going on?

"Looks like we sent them packing," Dorcas said, surveying the carnage littering the clearing. She straightened, assuming her military bearing. Her fingers brushed a stray strand of brown hair from her face moist with perspiration. A cocky smile perched on those lips. "Well done, gents."

"You all right, Meadowes?" Sirius asked. His brow creased under a black fringe soaked with sweat. He reached over to stroke her cheek, streaked with blood from a shallow scrape.

"I'm fine, Black." Dorcas bristled and pulled away from him. She wiped her bloodied cheek with her sleeve. "It's nothing."

Sirius' grey eyes flashed. Remus recognized that look. Frustration. Dorcas was back to her old games.

Remus turned away from the lovers. He felt like a third wheel. They needed a moment to themselves and he needed a rest. The emotion of battle had siphoned away his strength. Fatigue now replaced the surge of adrenaline that had sustained him. He sought a nearby tree, content to settle in its shade.

A brilliant white light appeared in his path, blocking his way. Remus stumbled backward. His body tensed. His wand pointed at the source of light. He squinted and shielded his eyes from the blinding brightness. A man, eight feet tall, with a face that glowed like burnished bronze stood before him, barring his way. The bronzed hand of the giant warrior held a flaming sword. Good Godric! So this was one of the guardians of the garden.

"S-so sorry." Remus backed slowly away, his hands raised in a conciliatory gesture.

The warrior neither smiled nor frowned in response, but remained at his post in stone-faced silence. Remus eyed the deadly sword, poised stationary in the warrior's grip. The man seemed to have no intention of attacking him. Or so Remus hoped.

Remus now surveyed the tree behind the guard. Its leafy limbs arched toward the earth, weighted down with golden globes of ripe fruit. The Tree of Life.

Another tree stood by its side, ripe fruit dangling from its branches. The fruit of this tree was like that of the other--gilded in color, but pear-shaped, not round. This tree also had an armed guard. Remus now counted a total of seven warriors with flaming swords stationed in a ring around the two trees. Which was the Tree of Life?

Sirius planted a hearty slap on Remus' back, and then leaned with his arm around Remus' shoulder. He swiped the grime of battle from his face and ran a hand over his unshaven chin. He stared at the two trees, seeming to read Remus' thoughts.

"So which is it, mate?" Sirius nodded toward the trees. "Which one are we supposed to die to protect?"

"I don't know," Remus said.

The map! That would tell. Remus reached for the parchment in his pocket, feeling for the crumpled and torn page. A shiver ran the length of his spine, before his fingers could grasp the paper.

The raucous calls of magpies, crows, and jackdaws shrieked in a blood-curdling cacophony. A great rustling of wings darkened the skies. Their shadows blotted out the sun. Leading them over the treetops was a great Occamy--a winged snake.

"Bloody hell," Sirius whispered, eyeing the winged army. His head whipped around to locate Dorcas. "Meadowes!" he bellowed.

Sirius bounded across the clearing toward where Dorcas was standing alone. Her face, drained of all color, was tipped to the sky. Her expression, frozen with fear, resembled that of a frightened five-year-old girl. The confident bearing of the trained professional seemed to melt away.

The attack of the birds was swift and relentless. They swooped down in numbers, pecking and clawing. Jet black feathers beat against Remus' face. He shielded his face in his arms and fired off every defensive charm he knew. His Shielding Charms weren't working against a hoard of so many foes. Think! His mind had gone blank.

Remus felt the rake of a talon across his back and many sharp pecks on his arms. He howled with pain and crumpled in a heap, curling his body in a ball to protect himself. Defensive charges shot from his body, shocking any aerial attacker that ventured too close.

The pecking assault let up. Remus chanced a glance around him. Both Sirius and Dorcas were pinned to the ground in similar positions. They were surrounded by a cadre of winged assailants, poised to strike if they moved from their defensive stances. Trapped.

The feathered body of the winged serpent circled lazily overhead on a thermal. Below, his battalions trained their attack on the trees. The birds swooped and soared, grabbing for the gilded fruit with their beaks and talons.

The stoic guardians of the trees had sprung to life. The great swords sang in the breeze, slicing the air with the ringing sound of a thousand brass bells. Flames leapt from their shimmering blades, scorching the black feathers into grim ash. Blackbirds clashed with white-winged guardians in an epic battle of good against evil. The white guardians were skilled, but the crows excelled by the sheer strength of their numbers. Remus crouched, helpless to do anything but watch.

Just as it seemed that the birds might succeed in their quest, an explosion rocked the ground. Remus shielded his eyes from the intense rush of light and heat. Soft objects pelted against his body. The cawing of the birds was replaced by the crackle of fire.

When he reopened his eyes, the ground was strewn with the carcasses of dead birds. The white guardians were gone. The trees themselves had burst into flame, an inferno of spontaneous combustion. Leaves, once tender and green, shriveled on the branches. Flames licked the fruit, desiccating their juices.

The Occamy descended on its great wings. As soon as the serpentine tail touched the ground, an amazing transformation took place. The winged monster had become a man...or something resembling one. Short silver hair framed a fifty-year-old face, but there was an inhuman quality about it. The dark eyes glinted with malice and the lips were raised at the corners in a permanent sneer. The face did not contain even the slightest trace of human kindness, but was contorted into something wholly given over to evil. Lord Voldemort!

Crouched on the ground, Remus fingered the smooth handle of his wand. His mind raced. What spell could he use against Voldemort? He was as good as dead. His breath caught in his throat.

Voldemort's icy glare raked over the smoldering arbor, searching through the charred branches. Remus knew he was looking for fruit. But the flames had consumed every ripe, golden orb. Not even a pit or seed had survived the incinerating blast. Sweet victory! Voldemort had been denied.

The muscles in the Dark wizard's jaw tightened. The cold eyes trained on Remus' face. Remus would die, that he knew. But he had succeeded in his mission. His life would not be forfeit for naught.

Pain unlike any Remus had ever known raged through his limbs. A mocking voice echoed in his head. Despicable werewolf, contemptible beast, I should destroy you. But you are not even worthy of my disdain. Join the ranks of my faithful and perhaps I shall spare you.

"Never." Remus gritted his teeth and tried to force the voice from his head.

The vice grip of pain intensified. Remus howled. The voice laughed, cruel and heartless. You are weak. Worthless.

The agony subsided. Remus panted and vomited into the dirt. Stars flitted before his eyes. He blinked to restore his vision.

When he looked up again, Voldemort had turned his punishing attentions to Sirius. His friend was doubled over in the dust. Remus could see the tortured look on Sirius' face mingled with his defiance. Remus averted his eyes, unable to watch and helpless to intervene. His fist clenched.

Remus glanced at Dorcas. The Auror knelt on her hands and knees in the grass. Her eyes were trained on the ground straight ahead. Her lips moved in a whispered incantation. Remus followed her gaze and saw the single piece of yellow fruit cushioned in the moss. Somehow this one had survived. He blocked out Sirius' screams and focused on the pear-shaped fruit inching across the grass toward Dorcas.

Sirius' screams fell silent. The golden fruit lay just out of Dorcas' reach. Any second now, Voldemort would turn his attentions to Dorcas and the game would be up. Remus had to do something. Anything.

Remus struggled to his feet, pointed his wand at Voldemort, and yelled "Expelliarmus!" He knew it was a foolish, insane gesture. But it was all he could think of to do. By Merlin, the act was so daft, so unexpected, it almost worked.

Voldemort's wand wretched from the cruel fingers. But the Dark wizard grabbed hold of it again with a deft flick of his wrist. The Dark Lord now turned to face Remus. He braced himself for the Killing Curse, the penalty for his brazen act. But the final blow never came. Voldemort had spotted the fruit. Bollocks!

The next instant passed in slow motion. Dorcas sprang and seized hold of the fruit. Voldemort raised his wand and trained it on Dorcas. Sirius bounded forward and hurled himself in front of Dorcas. The Slashing Curse left Voldemort's wand and took wing. Hex met man in midair, slicing across Sirius' chest. Sirius' eyes grew round. His mouth gaped open in surprise. His body pitched backward in a graceful arc and landed in the moss. The hero had fallen.

Remus' feet suddenly loosed. He rushed at Voldemort, but tackled thin air. The Dark Lord had disappeared. A crack echoed through the charred wasteland. Voldemort reappeared at Dorcas' side. His fingers curled around her wrist, the hand that held the precious prize. Then both vanished.

"Dorcaaaaaaaaas!" Sirius' agonized cry rang over the desolate remains of a lost paradise.