Remus' footsteps echoed hollowly as the rooms fell away behind him. There was a section he had to enter here, off to the left, an actual section of the Department. So far, he had only seen a few hallways off the lift bank. The depth and complexity of this Department astounded Remus. Whereas the other Departments fit in what he would judge to be a city block, the Department of Mysteries appeared to stretch on for miles in every direction. The map Remus had seen of it did nothing to dissuade this impression.
This section passed through a large analysis chamber before he would reach his targeted room. No one had said what they studied there. To his right, as Remus turned, he saw a familiar hallway. He hadn't been down here since the hearing, since his moment of shame. He opened the door into the new chamber.
As with every hallway he had passed, this new room was unoccupied. It was laid out in a circle of benches around a raised dais. An archway stood on the dais with a curtain draped across the opening. It rustled despite the stillness, the unnatural stillness in the air. The arch itself was of a hardened stone, and appeared quite ancient. Remus' eyes were immediately drawn to it, but he kept far away from it. It gave off a powerful presence and made Remus feel uneasy.
He began to walk around it, passing along an inner row of benches, but he stopped suddenly. Someone was here! He could hear a voice, indistinct but close. Remus looked around, but could not see anyone to match with the voice that continued to speak. He kept walking, uncertain if he had heard the voice before. It sounded somehow familiar.
Remus did not have time to investigate; he had a mission to attend to. Leaving the room with the strange archway and mysterious voices, Remus entered a room that was empty but for a large oaken bureau. This stood off to one side, as though forgotten. Remus was quite sure, however, that the Ministry took a keen interest in the contents of this particular piece of furniture. The air was different here, musky and not fresh, like the air from within a tomb. While the rest of the Ministry was rather pristine, a little too carefully done up, this room was the only way it could be.
Remus approached with caution, sensing, as well as he could, for hidden magical alarms. Still a novice at the difficult art, he took his time at it. The Locking Charms were obvious, and would require little effort to pass through. There were also charms preventing summoning and other non-physical acquisitions. Remus felt something deeper, however, gnawing at him. Remus attempted slow approaches from a few different directions, but could not make out what it was. Turning away, he could suddenly see it clearly. The approach was not the danger.
The Ministry did not care if anyone made it to the chest and took something. Walking away would not be so easy. There was a line of glittering fire across the floor, encircling the chest of drawers and fifteen feet of floor around it. From outside the circle it had not been apparent, disguised by some other device, no doubt.
It was called a Forge Line, an effective tool for snaring sneak-thieves and robbers, specifically those who worked alone or were foolish enough to approach as a group. A Forge Line could be crossed once without fear, but to re-cross required an outside party to forge a pact of friendship with the sign of a proffered arm. The inside party would accept this token of friendship by grasping the arm, and the pair would pass safely back across.
If the arm was rejected, both persons would be stuck within the circle. For thieves and scoundrels, this made for a difficult dilemma. When working in the underworld, it was difficult to know if the thief next to you could be trusted. If they were working for the Ministry, they would reject your arm and the pair would have to wait for the Ministry officials. Entrapment was one of the Ministry's favorite policing techniques of the day.
'Of course,' thought Remus, 'The Ministry officials only needed to remove the line to apprehend the thief.'
Committed, regardless, Remus determined to take the thing he was sent for. At least, then, he would have some small insurance against the Ministry's agents. Turning back towards the chest he waved his wand carefully and the top drawer unlocked. He slid open the drawer and marveled at what he saw. The drawer held evenly spaced circlets of gold holding tiny hour glasses. These seemed to pivot at the turn of a knob on the side.
Time Turners! Dozens of them sat delicately affixed before Remus' eyes. He only had need of one, however. Even one Time Turner displaced would set the Ministry at alarm – assuming Remus found a way out of here with one. More gone might begin a widespread panic. Time Turners were terribly powerful magical objects and should not be left in uncertain hands. Remus knew this, and, still, he was following orders to deliver it up to Igor.
It felt wrong. Remus had been conflicted from the moment he had picked-up the latest note from the bank security deposit box. He had secretly hoped that Dumbledore would order him not to do it when Remus gave him notice of the latest message. As previously, however, Remus heard nothing from Dumbledore. The silence he could not stand. It neither told him that Dumbledore agreed nor disagreed with what he was doing. In fact, the old Headmaster hadn't said a word to Remus about the plan since its inception, forcing Remus to doubt his own memories.
The memories were too real to have been faked. Dumbledore had to know. If not, wouldn't Remus' constant messages tell him something was amiss? As Remus reached for a Time Turner, his thoughts returned to this same argument, and he paused. Perhaps it was his guilty conscience, but Remus could almost swear he felt someone watching him. With one last moment of hesitation, Remus picked up one of the Time Turners, wrapped it in a handkerchief, and placed it in his pocket. The deed was done.
Now, Remus only had to find a way out of the Forge Line. He closed the drawer and turned back towards the door. Only now, there was someone between him and the door. A hooded figure stood still, watching him. Remus whipped out his wand by instinct, pointing the tip at the unknown person. Remus was strongly reminded of his last meeting with Severus. The silent entrance of this person unnerved Remus most of all.
The figure did not react to Remus' drawn wand. It seemed to simply study him and wait. What was it waiting on? Remus took the quiet as a sign of malice and smug security.
"Who are you?" he asked; voice a hard, carrying whisper.
"It is of no consequence," a gruff whisper returned. "You need a hand, it seems. I would appreciate if you would not aim your wand at me when I have come to set you free."
"You have come to -" Remus began, "How did you know I would be in here?"
"There is little time," the man said. "Take my arm and leave. They will find you soon."
With no other words, the man held out a bare arm through the circle. Remus marveled at the trust in it. If this were a Death Eater, why would he trust Remus enough to risk being stuck with him? Certainly Severus would not have done it. Severus probably had him pegged as a member of the Order. If they were caught, Dumbledore would get Remus off as he helped capture a malicious Death Eater. At least, Remus hoped he would.
Remus watched the figure for a moment. Was it a trap? Why would someone free Remus only to ambush him? The man could easily have cursed Remus when his back was turned. 'If he's fast enough,' Remus thought, 'he could curse me yet.'
He lowered his wand. A little trust could do him well this time. He stepped cautiously forward, watching the non-proffered hand. It hadn't moved. Clasping the arm with his, Remus was pulled forward and free from the ring.
"Well," Remus said stupidly, "thanks. I… Is there something you want in repayment?"
"No," he said, something pleased with himself. "You seem to be doing more than your share of work against your debts."
Remus was perplexed by this answer, but asked no follow-up questions. The figure ran off without a goodbye, no final word. He was there one moment, then out the door. By the time Remus stopped the swinging door, all the doors in the room beyond were closed and the man was nowhere to be seen. Remus hesitated. Who was that man? Why had he helped Remus and then fled?
This room, again, had the great arch, and was empty but for the indistinct voice. Ignoring it, Remus listened for any other sound. There was none. He began to run forward, passing the arch and flying through the door at the far end. 'Perhaps,' he thought, 'whoever that was, will be stuck at the lift and I will meet him there.'
When he reached the lifts, there was no one there. Resigned, Remus ascended to the lobby. Since the war had begun, there was no Apparating or Disapparating from within the Ministry. The hope was to catch Death Eaters before they could escape. Instead, the Death Eaters sent Remus in. Remus heard voices down a hallway as he crossed the lobby entrance. He walked up to the phone booth, Confunded it, and rode it back to the surface. He had made it out with the Death Eater's prize.
The booth carried Remus up to the street level. He flicked his wand behind him briefly, removing the Confundis Charm, before pocketing it. The alley was quiet and dark. The hour was late and no one walked the streets of London at night, at least, not these days. Remus Disapparated, leaving behind only a brief cracking sound before the alley was once more deserted and dead quiet.
He appeared at the entrance to a large, unfamiliar mansion. The gate was elaborate and opened into a garden. Remus approached the gate, and, as he had been told, it opened for him. He crossed through the garden, not lighting his wand, as instructed. Remus nearly tripped on some large birds in the dark. The squawk sound they made convinced him they were birds, but he did not see them. Soon, he had made his way to the front door, again, elaborate and beautiful as the gate.
This opened for him, this time by a familiar man. Igor smiled broadly at Remus, pulling him through the doorway in a bearish half-hug. Remus could hear many voices in the backyard. Apparently, Remus had arrived during a party. He fought a sense of revulsion about being so near his old friend and his companions, managing a cordial, serious expression.
"Remus!" Igor exclaimed happily. "So glad you made it! You have the item, I take it?"
Remus nodded in ascent.
"Good, good!" Igor replied. "I apologize for the inconvenience, but a friend of mine is having a bit of a party today and I thought it best to have you deliver the item quickly. It is fairly expensive."
"Of course," Remus said, "I hope the boss will be happy to get his antique back. The Ministry can be so bothersome about heirlooms."
"Yes," Igor answered, winking. He will be pleased, and you will be richly rewarded."
Remus handed over the Time Turner, wrapped carefully in a handkerchief. Igor accepted it gingerly, looking inside for a moment, and smiling. "Thank you, my friend," he said. Igor slipped the Turner into his waistcoat and, patting Remus on the sleeve said, "See you again, soon."
Remus took one last look down the hallway toward the room with the party before saying, "Farewell," to Igor, and walked out the front door.
He walked back along the path. Now, with the light from the mansion, he could see what appeared to be a peacock trotting behind the crest of a small hill. Atop this hill a large yew tree had grown. For the location, it was an odd tree, but Remus supposed that anyone with this much money could have plants brought in from wherever. In fact, Remus thought he could make out a palm tree in the darkness. Suddenly, he lost interest in the trees. There was a man out there; at least it appeared so from his gait.
Remus had an uneasy feeling that he had seen this man before. His eyes tracked the moving body as he slowed to a stop. The man had either taken no notice of Remus or didn't care about him. He had continued on, quickly moving through the grove of trees. When the moonlight, thin as it was this time of the month, played across the figure, Remus' fear was confirmed. It was the same man who had freed him. Was he following Remus?
The man continued along the edge, moving towards the house, not Remus. The fear subsided somewhat, replaced by trust. He did not appear to be invited, but he was clearly no sneak thief. If he was he would have either taken the Turner from Remus when he saved him or used Remus to get him one, as well. So, Remus wondered what the man wanted to do. Without a thought, Remus turned and began to creep behind the man, from a distance. The man was quite intent on this walk, not paying attention to anything but the building in front of him.
At a window, the man paused, moving his right arm a bit. The window opened, and Remus assumed he had used some magic. The man entered, leaving Remus outside wondering still with no clear answers. Ever more curious, Remus approached an adjacent window and looked in. He started at what he saw.
It was a small study, fashioned in an older style with antique, hand-crafted furniture and shelves of books that appeared old enough to pre-date the Ministry. Inside, a group of four Death Eaters, masked and cloaked, stood beside the mahogany desk around Igor – who was still dressed as Remus had seen him. They appeared very interested in the Time Turner he was presenting.
Remus fumed inside himself, angry that he had helped the Death Eaters this way. Of course, he had known the consequences of his actions, but it was difficult to face so directly. Remus could not tell who they were, but saw their simple comfort with each other. It was hard to imagine Death Eaters getting along so nicely, cruel as they were towards others.
He had a sudden urge to do something – smash through the window, stun them, and take the Turner back – anything. He could picture the looks of surprise changing to anger. Surely there were too many for one man. It would be foolish and Remus would wind up dead for nothing. 'Nothing!' he thought, angrily. 'Are lives nothing? This powerful magical object is dangerous in the hands of such men. The ability to manipulate time should not be trifled with.'
Still, he was frozen. Whether from fear or a sensible part of him that warned against such a wasteful effort, he did not know. In an instant, as though hearing Remus' thoughts and having the nerve to act upon it, the mysterious man broke through the door with his wand blazing. Remus had never seen such quick spell work. Time appeared to freeze as he took them down one-by-one. The floor was littered with Death Eaters, stunned and petrified before any of them had managed to draw his own wand.
Remus could see the reflecting surprise across the faces of Igor and another unmasked Death Eater. The impact of a spell or the fall must have removed his mask. Remus did not know this other man. The mysterious figure leaned over, took the Time Turner from Igor's hand, and walked directly over to the window Remus was watching through. Remus, seeing the man approach with no time to hide, stood frozen in place.
The window opened to his hand, and the man hopped out of the window to stand next to Remus, cowl still covering his face.
"Come," he said. "They will be found soon."
Remus followed as the man sprinted across the lawn. No one had emerged from the house before they had left the yard, gate still happily opening at their approach. Remus followed the running figure until he stopped, mere blocks from the house.
Turning to face Remus, he said, voice still harsh and strained, "There will be a clash between the Order and the Death Eaters this night. They will fight at St. Mungo's in one hour's time." He added, "The Order will need your help as never before."
Remus asked, "How do you know this?"
"Never mind that," the man said. "The Death Eaters have targeted an injured member of the Order, and the Order will arrive to protect him. You may need this. Take it back." The figure handed Remus the Turner, adding, "Be more careful to whom you entrust it."
"But…I mustn't go," Remus began. "I have to maintain my cover."
He could hardly believe how much he was telling this stranger. Admitting, as he was, that he was not only a member of the Order, but also that he was actually fooling the Death Eaters in the process was a serious and dangerous choice. Still, the figure had just attacked Death Eaters unprovoked and without hesitation.
"There is a time to wait and a time to fight," he told Remus. "A man knows when to do each."
With that, the hooded mysterious man Dissaparated, leaving Remus standing there, dumbly, alone, and uncertain. This man, whoever he was, was certainly brave, perhaps to the point of foolhardiness, but what he was suggesting would undo the work that Remus had fought so hard with himself to continue. He had gained favor with Igor, at least, if not incidentally with others.
He couldn't deny that he had wanted it for a very long time. Remus had always wanted to be there, with James and Sirius, at the front lines. This sneaking and conniving way was tiresome and frustrating. He felt underused and unappreciated for it. Remus could not imagine people feeling overly happy about what he contributed, but he did it as well as he could. The primary goal was to win the war, but that seemed so far off. Minor victories would help Remus so much.
He hesitated because of Dumbledore. The old headmaster was playing some grand chess game against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Surely Remus was in his place, the werewolf piece, just where Dumbledore had wished him to be. He was no piece of importance, but even the pawns were critical for true strategists. Then again, Remus had been left to his own devices. It was he who had managed the relationship with the Death Eaters, he who had taken risk after risk, and he who had suffered for the actions. He knew his work caused harm with that vague hope of making it up with later dividends. When?
His mind cried out that question again, as it so often did. "A man knows…" the brave figure had said, but was Remus truly a man? Aside from his condition, he never saw so clearly as this man implied he should. He could never see through the fog of distrust and uncertainty. He was always holding, always conscious of the drawbacks of his chosen path. Remus was wanted by the Ministry, avoided by the Order, and liked by his enemies. If he did this thing, if he fought at St. Mungo's, he would be disliked all around.
'But is it that important to be liked?' a thought made itself known. 'What is important is the fight against evil.'
'It could all be a trap,' another broke in. 'You are playing a slippery game, why not them? Perhaps it is Severus trying to prove your disloyalty.'
'Would Severus risk it at his own peril?' the first thought asked. Imploring, it continued, 'If your friends are at risk and helpless innocents, is it not your duty to protect them?'
Remus nodded in consent. He would go to St. Mungo's. It was time to fight.