Chapter 18

A Slow Spider Memory

KIARA

Late in the afternoon, a few days after New Year, Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I were lined up beside the kitchen fire to return to Dragon Mort. The Ministry had arranged this one-off connection to the Floo Network to return students quickly and safely to the school. Only my parents were there to say goodbye, as my grandmothers had left after New Year's Day, and Mr Dawson, Tanya, Geri, Sam and Ferdinand were all at work. Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Ben and Dave had all gone through, and Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I were saying goodbye to my parents.

"You all have a good term," said Mum, as she hugged Chris.

"We will," said Sian.

My father nodded at her, then looked at me and held out his arms, which I immediately ran into.

"Promise me you'll look after yourself and that you'll stay out of trouble, won't you?" he muttered into my hair.

"I always do, Daddy," I said. "I like a quiet life, you know me."

He let go of me and looked at me firmly. "I'm serious, Kiara! I want you to - "

"I know, Daddy, I know!" I defended. "I was just joking! Don't worry, I promise I'll stay out of trouble, even thought trouble somehow always seems to find me. We'll be fine, don't worry."

"Yeah, and even if we do get in trouble, at least we'll have Sian with us to keep us safe!" said Chrissie. Sian just rolled her eyes.

"Be good, then, all of you ..."

I stepped into the emerald fire and shouted, "Dragon Mort!" I had one last fleeting view of the Dawsons' kitchen and my parents happy but anxious faces before the flames engulfed me; spinning very fast, I caught blurred glimpses of other wizarding rooms, which were whipped out of sight before I could get a proper look; then I was slowing down, finally stopping squarely in the fireplace in Professor Darbus' office. She barely glanced up from her work as I clambered out over the grate.

"Evening, Pride-Lander. Try not to get too much ash on the carpet."

"No, Professor."

I flattened my hair as Chris came spinning into view, soon followed by Sian. When Chrissie had arrived, the four of us trooped out of Darbus' office and off towards Lion-Heart Tower. I glanced out of the corridor windows as we passed; the sun was already sinking over grounds carpeted in deep snow. In the distance, I could see Mina feeding Noelani in front of her cabin.

"Baubles!" said Chrissie confidently, when we reached the Fat Lord, ho was looking rather paler than usual, and winced at her loud voice.

"No," he said.

"What d'you mean, "no"?"

"There is a new password," he said. "And please don't shout."

"But we've been away, how're we supposed to - ?"

"Sian! Chris! Kiara!"

Merida was hurrying towards us, Dave just behind her, a rolled-up scroll held tightly in her hand.

"I've got something for you, Kiara," said Merry, neither looking at Chrissie nor giving any sign that she had noticed her sister. "Oh, hang on - password. Abstinence."

"Precisely," said the Fat Lord in a feeble voice, and swung forwards to reveal the portrait hole.

"What's up with him?" I asked.

"Overindulged over Christmas, apparently," said Merida, rolling her eyes as she and Dave led the way into the packed common room. "He and his friend Victor drank through all the wine in that portrait of the drunk monks by the Charms corridor. Anyway ..."

She handed me the scroll of parchment and I saw that it had Crighton's writing on it.

"Great," I said, unrolling it at once to discover that mine and Sian's next lesson with Crighton was scheduled for the following night. "I've got loads to tell her - as well as you two, Chris and Sian. Let's sit - "

But at that moment Larry came rushing forward, wrapped his arms around her, said, "Welcome back, Chrissie-Wissy!", before he locked his lips on to hers. Several onlookers sniggered; Chris, Sian, Merida and Dave all rolled their eyes, before Merida dragged Dave off to a corner in the common room. Sian then said, "There's a table over there ... want to join us before you go say hello to Dena, Chris?"

"Sure. I'm sure Dena won't mind if I spend some time with you before I greet her," said Chris, though I could not help noticing that he did not sound very enthusiastic about the prospect of seeing Dena later. Leaving Chrissie and Larry in a kind of vertical wrestling match, I led Chris and Sian over to the spare table.

"So, Kiara," said Sian, once the three of us had sat down, "what was this important news you wanted to tell us?"

She and Chris were both staring at me earnestly, so I recounted all that I had overheard between Malty and Triphorm to them.

When I had finished, Sian sat in thought for a moment and then said, "Don't you think - ?"

" - she was pretending to offer help so she could trick Malty into telling her what she's doing?"

"Well, yes," said Sian.

"Your dad and Meers think so," I said grudgingly. "But this definitely proves Malty's planning something, you two can't deny that."

"No, we can't," said Chris slowly.

"And she's acting on Zira's orders, just like I said!"

"Hmm ... did either of them actually mention Zira's name?" said Sian.

I frowned, trying to remember.

"I'm not sure ... Triphorm definitely said "your mistress", and who else would that be?"

"I don't know," said Sian, biting her lip. "Maybe her mother?"

"But Sian," said Chris suddenly, "how many kids do you know who refer to their mother as their mistress?"

Sian didn't answer. She stared across the room, apparently lost in thought, not even noticing Larry tickling Chrissie. "How is Meers, by the way? Chris and I never really got the chance to speak with him over the holidays."

"Not great," I said, and I told her and Chris all about Meers' mission among the werewolves and the difficulties he was facing. "Have either of you heard of this Rasputin Silverfur?"

"Yes, we have!" said Sian, sounding startled. "And so have you, Kiara!"

"When, History of Magic? You know full well I never listened ..."

"No, no, not History of Magic - Malty threatened Borrin with him!" said Chris. "Back in Dark Avenue, don't you remember? She told Borrin that Rasputin was an old family friend an that he'd be checking up on Borrin's progress!"

I gaped at him. "I forgot! But this proves Malty's a Love Destroyer, how else could she be in contact with Rasputin and telling him what to do?"

"It is pretty suspicious," breathed Sian. "Unless ..."

"Oh, come on," I said in exasperation, "you can't get round this one!"

"Well ... there is the possibility it was an empty threat."

"You're unbelievable, you two are," I said, shaking my head. "We'll see who's right ... Chris, Sian, you'll be eating your words, just like the Ministry."

"Speaking of the Ministry," said Chris, "what did the Minister ask you about when you spoke with her? You mentioned that the Ministry wanted to use you, but you didn't say anything else after that."

"Oh, I didn't, did I? Well, when Scrimwazz and I got outside ..."

And the rest of the evening passed amicably with the three of us abusing the Minister for Magic, for Chris and Sian, like Chrissie, thought that after all the Ministry had put me through in my fifth year, they had a great nerve asking me for help now. This continued until Dena stormed over to where Chris, Sian and I were sat and dragged him away. I felt jealousy's sting again as I watched them, wishing that I could be in Dena's shoes, grabbing one of Chris' long, soft, gentle hands, leading him to a corner and - but I quickly rid my head of these dangerous thoughts, not liking where they were going.

Anyhoo, the new term started the next morning with a pleasant surprise for we sixth-years; a large sign had been pinned to the common room noticeboards overnight.

APPARITION LESSONS

If you are seventeen years of age, or will turn seventeen on or before 31st of August, you are eligible for a twelve-week course of Apparition lessons from a Ministry of Magic Apparition Instructor.

Please sign below if you would like to participate.

Cost: 12 Galleons.

Chrissie and I joined the crowd that was jostling around the notice and we took it in turns to write our names underneath. Chrissie was just taking out her quill to sign after Sian when Larry crept up behind her, slipped his hands over her eyes and trilled, "Guess who, Chrissie-Wissy?" I turned to see Sian stalking off; I caught up with her, having no wish to stay behind with Chrissie and Larry, but to my surprise, Chrissie caught up with us only a little way beyond the portrait hole, her cheeks red and her expression disgruntled. Without a word, Sian sped up to walk with Chris, Dena and Zara.

"So - Apparition," said Chrissie, her tone making it perfectly plain that I was not to mention what had just happened. "Should be a laugh, eh?"

"I dunno," I said. "Maybe its better when you do it yourself, I didn't enjoy it much when Crighton took me along for the ride."

"I forgot you'd already done it ... I'd better pass my test first time," said Chrissie, looking anxious. "Tanya and Geri did."

"Kat failed, though, didn't she?"

"Yeah, but Kat's bigger than me," Chrissie held her arms out from her body, as though she were a gorilla, "so Tanya and Geri didn't go on about it much ... not to her face, anyway ..."

"When can we take the actual test?"

"Soon as we're seventeen. That's July for us two!"

"Yeah, but you wouldn't be able to Apparate in here, not in the castle ..."

"Not the point, is it? Everyone would know I could Apparate if I wanted."

Chrissie was not the only one to be excited at the prospect of Apparition. All that day there was much talk about the forthcoming lessons; a great deal of store was set by being able to vanish and reappear at will.

"How cool will it be when we can just - " Zara clicked her fingers to indicate disappearance. "Me cousin Angus does it just to annoy me, you wait 'til I can do it back ... he'll never have another peaceful moment ..."

Lost in visions of this happy prospect, she flicked her wand a little too enthusiastically, so that instead of producing the fountain of pure water that was the object of that day's Charms lesson, she let out a hoselike jet that ricocheted off the ceiling and knocked Professor Winds flat on her face.

"Kiara's already Apparated," Chrissie told a slightly abashed Zara, after Professor Winds had dried herself off with a wave of her wand and set Zara lines ("I'm a witch, not a baboon brandishing a stick"). "My mo - er - someone took her. Side-Along Apparition, you know."

"Whoa!" whispered Zara, and she, Dena and Nikita put their heads together a little closer to hear what Apparition felt like. For the rest of the day, I was besieged with requests from the other sixth-years to describe the sensation of Apparition. All of them seemed awed, rather that putt off, when I told them how uncomfortable it was, and I was still answering detailed questions at ten to eight that evening, when I was forced to lie and say that I needed to return a book to the library, so as to escape in time for my lesson with Crighton, with Sian right behind me.

The lamps in Crighton's office were lit, the portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses were snoring gently in their frames and the Pensieve was ready upon the desk once more. Crighton's hands lay on either side of it, the right one as blackened and burned-looking as ever. It did not seem to have healed at all and I wondered, for perhaps the hundredth time, what had caused such a distinctive injury, but I did not ask; Crighton had said that I would know eventually and there was, in any case, another subject I wanted to discuss. But before I could say anything about Triphorm and Malty, Crighton spoke - once she had let go of Sian, anyway.

"I hear that you met the Minister for Magic over Christmas, Kiara?"

"Yes," she said. "She's not very happy with me."

"No," said Crighton. "She is not very happy with me, either. We must try not to sink beneath our anguish, Kiara, but battle on."

Sian and I grinned.

"She wanted me to tell the wizarding community that the Ministry's doing a wonderful job."

Crighton smiled.

"It was Sweets' idea originally, you know. During her last days in office, when she was trying desperately to cling to her post, she sought a meeting with you, hoping you would give her your support - "

"After everything Sweets did last year?" I said angrily, as Sian shook her head in disgust. "After Umber?"

"I told Cornelia that there was no chance of it, but the idea did not die when she left office. Within hours of Scrimwazz's appointment we met and she demanded that I arrange a meeting with you - "

"So that's why you argued!" I blurted out. "It was in the Daily Squabbler."

"The Squabbler is bound to tell the truth occasionally," said Crighton, "if only accidentally. Yes, that was why we argued. Well, it appears that Rowena has found a way to corner you at last."

"She accused me of being "Crighton's woman through and through"."

"How very rude of her."

"I told her I was."

Crighton opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again. Behind me, Kenna the phoenix let out a low, soft, musical cry, and next to me, Sian beamed at me with pride. To my intense embarrassment, I suddenly realised that Crighton's bright green eyes looked rather watery, and I stared hastily at my own knees. When Crighton spoke, however, her voice was quite steady.

"I am very touched, Kiara."

"Scrimwazz wanted to know where you go when you're not at Dragon Mort," I said, still looking fixedly at my knees.

"Yes, she is very nosy about that," said Crighton, now sounding cheerful, and I thought it safe to look up again. "She has even attempted to have me followed. She set Dalca to tail me. It wasn't kind. I have already been forced to jinx Dalca once; I did it again with the greatest regret."

"So they still don't know where you go?" I asked, hoping for more information on this intriguing subject, but Crighton merely smiled at me.

"No, they don't, and the time is not quite right for either of you girls to know, either. Now, I suggest to press on, unless there's anything else - ?"

"There is, actually, ma'am," I said. "It's about Malty and Triphorm."

"Professor Triphorm, Kiara."

"Yes, ma'am. I overheard them during Professor Beadu's party ... well, I followed them, actually ..."

Crighton listened to my story with an impassive face. When I had finished she did not speak for a few moments, then said, "Thank you for telling me this, Kiara, but I suggest you put it out of your mind. I do not think that it is of great importance."

"Not of great importance?" I repeated incredulously. "Professor, did you understand - ?"

"Yes, Kiara, blessed as I am with extraordinary brainpower, I understood everything you told me," said Crighton, a little sharply. "I think you might even consider the possibility that I understood more than you did. Again, I am glad that you have confided in me, but let me reassure you that you have not told me anything that causes me discomfort."

Sian gave me an "I told you so" look, but I ignored her as I sat in a seething silence, glaring at Crighton. I wondered what was going on. did this mean that Crighton had indeed ordered Triphorm to find out what Malty was doing, in which case she had already heard everything I had just told her from Triphorm? Or was she really worried by what I had heard, but was pretending not to be?

"So, ma'am," I said, in what I hoped was a polite, calm voice, "you definitely still trust - ?"

"I have been tolerant enough to answer that question already," said Crighton, but she did not sound very tolerant any more. "My answer has not changed."

"I should think not," said a snide voice. Philomena Naenia was evidently only pretending to be asleep. Crighton ignored her.

"And now, Kiara, I must insist that we press on. I have important things to discuss with both yourself and Sian this evening."

I sat there feeling mutinous. How would it be if I refused to permit the change of subject, if I insisted upon arguing the case against Malty? As though she had read my mind, Crighton shook her head.

"Ah, Kiara, how often this happens, even between the best of friends! Each of us believes that what she has to say is much more important than anything the other might have to contribute!"

"I don't think what you've got to say is unimportant, ma'am," I said stiffly.

"Well, you are quite right, because it is not," said Crighton briskly. "I have two more memories to show you this evening, both obtained with enormous difficulty, and the second of them is, I think, the most important I have collected."

I did not say anything to this; I still felt angry at the reception my confidences had received, but I could not see what was to be gained by arguing further.

"So," said Crighton, in a ringing voice, "but the three of us meet this evening to continue the tale of Dizra Maliay, whom we left last lesson poised on the threshold of her years at Dragon Mort. You will remember how excited to hear she was a witch, that she refused my company to Diagon Alley, and that I, in turn, warned her against continued thievery when she arrived at school.

"Well, the start of the school year arrived and with it came Dizra Maliay, a quiet girl in her second-hand robes, who lined up with the other first-years to be Sorted. She was placed in Snake-Eyes house almost the moment she had sat on the stool by the Snake-Head," continued Crighton, waving her blackened hand towards the shelf over her head where the Sorting-Chest lay. "How soon Maliay learned that the famous founder could talk to snakes and other reptiles, I do not know - perhaps that very evening. The knowledge can only have excited her and increased her sense of self-importance.

"However, if she was frightening or impressing fellow Snake-Eyes with displays of Parshydamouth in their common room, no word of it reached the staff. She showed no sign of outward arrogance or aggression at all. As an unusually talented and very beautiful orphan, she naturally drew attention and sympathy from the staff almost from the moment of her arrival. She seemed polite, quiet and thirsty for knowledge. Nearly all were favourably impressed by her."

"Didn't you tell them, ma'am, what she'd been like when you met her at the orphanage?" I asked.

"No, I did not. Though she had shown no hint of remorse, it was possible that she felt sorry for how she had behaved before and was resolved to turn over a fresh leaf. I chose to give her that chance."

Crighton paused and looked enquiringly at me as I opened my mouth to speak. Here, again, was Crighton's tendency to trust people in spite on overwhelming evidence that they did not deserve it! But then I remembered something ...

"But you didn't really trust her, ma'am, did you? She told me ... the Maliay who came out of that diary said "Crighton never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did"."

"Let us say that I did not take it for granted that she was trustworthy," said Crighton. "I had, as I have already indicated, resolved to keep a close eye on her, and so I did. I cannot pretend that I gleaned a great deal from my observations at first. She was very guarded with me; she felt, I am sure, that in the thrill of discovering her true identity she had told me a little too much. She was careful never to reveal as much again, but she could not take back what she had let slip in her excitement, nor what Mrs Doyle had confided in me. However, she had the sense never to charm me as she charmed so many of my colleagues.

"As she moved up the school, she gathered abut her a group of dedicated friends; I call them that, for want of a better term, although as I have already indicated, Maliay undoubtedly felt no affection for any of them. This group had a kind of dark glamour within the castle. They were a motley collection; a mixture of the weak seeking protection, the ambitious seeking some shared glory, and the thuggish gravitating towards a leader who could show them more refined forms of cruelty. In other words, they were the forerunners of the Love Destroyers, and indeed some of them became the first Love Destroyers after leaving Dragon Mort.

"Rigidly controlled by Maliay, they were never detected in open wrong-doing, although their seven years at Dragon Mort were marked by a number of nasty incidents to which they were never satisfactorily linked, the most serious of which was, of course, the opening of the Chamber of Mysteries, which resulted in the death of a boy. As you both know, Mina was wrongly accused of that crime.

"I have not been able to find many memories of Maliay at Dragon Mort," said Crighton, placing her withered hand on the Pensieve. "Few who knew her then are prepared to talk about her; they are too terrified. What I know, what I found out after she had left Dragon Mort, after much painstaking effort, after tracing those few who could be tricked into speaking, after searching old records and questioning Muggle and wizard witnesses alike.

"Those whom I could persuade to talk told me that Maliay was obsessed with her parentage. This is understandable, of course; she had grown up in an orphanage and naturally wished to know how she came to be there. It seems that she searched in vain for some trace of Dizra Maliay Senior on the shields in the trophy room, on the lists of Prefects in the old school records, even in the books of wizarding history. Finally she was forced to accept that her mother had never set foot in Dragon Mort. I believe that it was then that she dropped the name for ever, assumed the identity of Lady Zira, and began her investigation into her previously despised father's family - a man whom, you will remember, she had thought could not be a wizard if he had succumbed to the shameful human weakness of death.

"All she had to go on were the contents in a letter that Maliay got on her sixteenth birthday that was written by her father, given to her by Mrs Doyle, and in that letter he mentioned the names of his sister and mother, Makasha and Marmarin. Finally, after painstaking research through old books of wizarding families, she discovered the existence of Snake-Eyes' surviving line. In the summer of her sixteenth year, she left the orphanage to which she returned annually and set off to find her Mackay relatives. And now, Sian, Kiara, if you will both stand ..."

Crighton rose, and I saw that she was again holding a small crystal bottle filled with swirling, pearly memory.

"I was very lucky to collect this," she said, as she poured the gleaming mass into the Pensieve. "As you will both understand when we have experienced it. Shall we?"

Sian and I stepped up to the stone basin and bowed obediently until our faces sank through the surface of the memory; I felt the familiar sensation of falling through nothingness and then I landed next to Sian upon a dirty stone floor into almost total darkness.

It took me several seconds to recognise the place, by which time Crighton had landed on my other side. The Mackays' house was now more incredibly filthy than anywhere I had ever seen. The ceiling was thick with cobwebs, the floor coated with grime; mouldy and rotting food lay upon the table amidst a mass of crusted pots. The only light came from a single guttering candle placed at the feet of a woman with hair so overgrown that I could see neither eyes nor mouth. She was slumped on the floor with her arms crossed by the fire, and I wondered for a moment whether she was dead. But then there came a loud knock on the door and the woman jerked awake, raising a wand in her right hand, and a short knife in her left.

The door creaked open. There on the threshold, holding an old-fashioned lamp, stood a girl I recognised at once: tall, pale, light-haired and beautiful - the teenage Zira.

Zira's eyes moved slowly around the hovel and then found the woman on the floor. For a few seconds they looked at each other, then the woman staggered upright, the many empty bottles at her feet clattering and tinkling across the floor.

"You!" she bellowed. "YOU!"

And she hurtled drunkenly at Maliay, wand and knife held aloft.

"Stop."

Maliay spoke in Parshydamouth. The woman skidded into the table, sending mouldy pots and pans crashing to the floor. She stared at Maliay. There was a long silence while they contemplated each other. The woman broke it.

"You speak it?"

"Yes, I speak it," said Maliay. She moved forwards into the room, allowing the door to swing shut behind her. I could not help but feel a resentful admiration for Zira's complete lack of fear. Her face merely expressed disgust and, perhaps, disappointment.

"Where is Marmarin?" she asked.

"Dead," said the other. "Died years ago, didn't she?"

Maliay frowned.

"Who are you, then?"

"I'm Makasha, ain't I?"

"Marmarin's daughter?"

"Course I am, then ..."

Makasha pushed the hair out of her dirty face, the better to see Maliay, and I saw that she wore Marmarin's red-stoned ring on her right hand.

"I thought you was that Muggle," whispered Makasha. "You look mighty like that Muggle."

"What Muggle?" said Maliay sharply.

"That Muggle what my brother took a fancy to, that Muggle who lives in the big house over the way," said Makasha, and she spat unexpectedly upon the floor between them. "You look right like her. Maliay. But she's older now, i'n she? She's older'n you, now I think on it ..."

Makasha looked slightly dazed and swayed a little, falling backwards on to the mattress at her feet, seeing as she had nothing to hold on to to support her.

"She came back, see," she added stupidly.

Zira was gazing at Makasha, as though appraising her possibilities. Now she moved a little closer and said, "Maliay came back?"

"Ar, after she left him, and serve him right, running away with filth!" said Makasha, spitting on the floor again. "Robbed us, mind, my brother did, before he ran off! Where's the locket, eh, where's Snake-Eyes locket?"

Zira did not answer. Makasha was working herself into a rage again; she brandished her knife and shouted, "Dishonoured us, he did, that bastard! And who're you, coming here and asking questions about all that? It's over, innit ... it's over ..."

She looked away, staggering slightly, and Zira moved forwards. As she did so, an unnatural darkness fell, extinguishing Zira's lamp and Makasha's candle, extinguishing everything ...

Crighton's fingers closed tightly around my arm (Sian grabbed on to her mother's arm, as always) and we were soaring back into the present again. The soft golden light in Crighton's office dazzled my eyes after that impenetrable darkness.

"Is that all?" I said at once. "Why did it go all dark, what happened?"

"Because Makasha could not remember anything from that point onwards," said Crighton, gesturing Sian and I back into our seats. "When she awoke next morning, she was lying on the floor, quite alone. Marmarin's ring had gone."

"Meanwhile, in the village of Port Harcourt, a maid was running down the hill, screaming that there were three bodies lying in the drawing room of the big house: Dizra Maliay Senior, and her mother and father.

"The Muggle South African authorities were perplexed. As far as I am aware, they are not aware to this day how the Maliays died, for the Avada Kedavra Curse does not usually leave any sign of damage ... however, there are two exceptions to this: the first being Harry Potter, and I believe you know the second," Crighton added, with a nod to my scar. "The South African Ministry, on the other hand, knew at once that this was a wizard's murder. They also knew that a convicted Muggle-hater lived across the valley from the Maliay house, a Muggle-hater who had already been imprisoned once for attacking one of the murdered people.

"So the South African Ministry called upon Makasha. They did not need to question her, to use Veritaserum or Legilimency. She admitted to the murder on the spot, giving details only the murderer could know. She was proud, she said, to have killed the Muggles, had been awaiting her chance all these years. She handed over her wand, which was proved at once to have been used to kill the Maliays. And she permitted herself to be led off to Azkaban without a fight. All that disturbed her was the fact that her mother's ring had disappeared. "She'll kill me for losing her ring." And that, apparently, was all she ever said again. She lived out the remainder of her life in Azkaban, lamenting the loss of Marmarin's last heirloom, and is buried beside the prison alongside the other poor souls who have expired within its walls."

"So Zira stole Makasha's wand and used it?" I said, sitting up straight.

"That's right," said Crighton. "We have no memories to show this, but I think we can be fairly sure what happened. Zira Stupefied her aunt, took her wand, and proceeded across the valley to "the big house over the way". There she murdered the Muggle woman who abandoned her wizard father, and, for good measure, her Muggle grandparents, thus obliterating the last of the unworthy Maliay line and revenging herself upon the mother who never wanted her. Then she returned to the Mackay hovel, performed the complex bit of magic that would implant a false memory in her aunt's mind, laid Makasha's wand beside its unconscious owner, pocketed the ancient ring she wore and departed."

"And Makasha never realised she hadn't done it?"

"Never," said Crighton. "She gave, as I say, a full and boastful confession."

"But she had this real memory within her all the time!"

"Yes, but it took a great deal of skilled Legilimency to coax it out of her," said Crighton, "and why should anybody delve further into Makasha's mind when she had already confessed to the crime? However, I was able to secure a visit to Makasha in the last weeks of her life, by which time I was attempting to discover as much as I could about Zira's past. I extracted this memory with difficulty. When I saw what it contained, I attempted to use it to secure Makasha's release from Azkaban. Before the South African Ministry reached their decision, however, Makasha had died."

"But how come the South African Ministry didn't realise that Zira had done all that to Makasha?" I asked angrily. "She was under age at the time, wasn't she? I thought they could detect under-age magic!"

"You are right - they can detect magic, but not its perpetrator: you will remember, Kiara, that you were blamed by the Ministry for the Charm that was, in fact, cast by - "

"Dokey," I growled; this injustice still rankled. "So if you're under age and you do magic inside a witch or wizard's house, the Ministry won't know?"

"They will certainly be unable to tell who performed the magic," said Crighton at the looks of great shock and indignation on mine and Sian's faces. "They rely on witch and wizard parents to enforce their offspring's obedience while within their walls."

"Well, that's rubbish," I snapped. "Look what happened here, look what happened to Makasha!"

"I agree," said Crighton. "Whatever Makasha was, she did not deserve to die as she did, blamed for murders she had not committed. But it was getting late, and I want you both to see this other memory before we part ..."

Crighton took from an inside pocket another crystal phial and I fell silent at once, remembering that Crighton had said it was the most important one she had collected. I noticed that the contents proved difficult to empty into the Pensieve, as though they had congealed slightly; did memories go off?

"This will not take long," said Crighton, when she had finally emptied the phial. "The three of us shall be back before you know it. Once more into the Pensieve, then girls ..."

And Sian and I fell again through the silver surface, landing this time in front of a woman we recognised at once.

It was a much younger Arachne Beadu, yet much was different about her. She was still long, thin and bony, with long arms, legs and fingers. Her hair looked thicker and it cascaded in waves over her shoulders and down her back. Her long feet were resting upon a velvet pouffe, she was sitting well back in a comfortable winged armchair, one hand grasping a small glass of wine, the other searching through a box of crystalized pineapple.

I looked around as Crighton appeared beside me and saw that the three of us were standing in Beadu's office. Half a dozen girls were sitting around Beadu, all on harder or lower seats than hers, and all in their mid-teens. I recognised Maliay at once. Hers was the most beautiful face and she looked the most relaxed of all the girls. Her right hand lay negligently upon the arm of her chair; with a jolt, I saw that she was already wearing Marmarin's red and silver ring; she had already killed her mother.

"Ma'am, is it true that Professor Cheerymind is retiring" Maliay asked.

"Dizra, Dizra, if I knew I wouldn't tell you," said Beadu, wagging a reproving, sugar-coated finger at Maliay, though ruining the effect slightly by winking. "I must say, I'd like to know where you get your information, girl; more knowledgeable than half the staff you are."

Maliay smiled; the other girls laughed and cast her admiring looks.

"What with your uncanny ability to know things you shouldn't, and your careful flattery of the people who matter - thank you for the pineapple, by the way, you're quite right it is my favourite - "

As several of the girls tittered, something very odd happened. The whole room was suddenly filled with a thick white fog, so that I could see nothing but the calm face of Crighton beside me, and the confused face of Sian next to her. Then Beadu's voice rang out through the mist, unnaturally loud: " - you'll go wrong, girl, mark my words."

The fog cleared as suddenly as it had appeared and yet nobody made any allusion to it, nor did anybody look as though anything unusual had just happened. Bewildered, I looked around as a small golden clock standing upon Beadu's desk chimed eleven o'clock.

"Good gracious, is it that time already?" said Beadu. "You'd better get going, girls, or we'll all be in trouble. Aakster, I want your essay by tomorrow or it's detention."

Beadu pulled herself out of her armchair and carried her empty glass over to her desk as the girls filed out. Maliay, however, stayed behind. I could tell she had dawdled deliberately, wanting to be last in the room with Beadu.

"Look sharp, Dizra," said Beadu, turning round and finding her still present. "You don't want to be caught out of bed after hours, and you a Prefect ..."

"Ma'am, I wanted to ask you something."

"Ask away, then, m'girl, ask away ..."

"Ma'am, I wondered what you know about ... about Horcruxes?"

And it happened all over again: the dense fog filled the room so that I could not see Beadu or Maliay at all; only Crighton, smiling serenely next to me, and Sian, looking confused on her other side. Then Beadu's voice boomed out again, just as it had done before.

"I don't know anything about Horcruxes and I wouldn't tell you if I did! Now get out of here at once and don't let me catch you mentioning them again!"

"Well, that's that," said Crighton placidly. "Time to go."

And my feet left the floor to fall, seconds later, back on to the rug in front of Crighton's desk.

"That's all there is?" I said blankly.

Crighton had said that this was the most important memory of all, but I could not see what was so significant about it, and looking at Sian, I saw that she couldn't either. Admittedly, the fog, and the fact that nobody seemed to have noticed it, was odd, but other than that nothing seemed to have happened except that Maliay had asked a question and failed to get an answer.

"As you might have noticed," said Crighton, reseating herself behind her desk, "that memory has been tampered with."

"Tampered with?" I repeated, as Sian and I sat down.

"Certainly," said Crighton, "Professor Beadu has meddled with her own recollections."

"But why would she do that?"

"Because she's ashamed of it," said Sian matter-of-factly.

"Precisely, Sian," said Crighton. "She has tried to rework the memory to show herself in a better light, obliterating those parts which she does not wish me to see. It is, as you will both have noticed, very crudely done, and that is all to the good, for it shows that the true memory is there beneath the alterations.

"And so, for the first time I am giving you, and you alone, Kiara, homework. It will be your job to persuade Professor Beadu to divulge the real memory, which will undoubtedly be our most crucial piece of information of all."

I stared at her.

"But surely, ma'am," I said, keeping my voice as respectful as possible, "you don't need me - you could use Legilimency ... or Veritaserum ..."

"Professor Beadu is an extremely able witch who will be expecting both," said Crighton. "She is much more accomplished at Occlumecy than poor Makasha Mackay, and I would be astonished if she has not carried an antidote to Veritaserum with her ever since I coerced her into giving me this travesty of a recollection.

"No, I thought it would be foolish to attempt to wrest the truth from Professor Beadu by force, and might do much more harm than good; I do not wish her to leave Dragon Mort. However, she has her weaknesses like the rest of us and I believe that you are the only person who might be able to penetrate her defences. It is most important that we secure the true memory, Kiara ... how important, we will only know when we have seen the real thing. Oh, and Sian?" she added suddenly, making Sian raise her head.

"Yes, Mother?"

"I am sorry to have to disappoint you, my darling, but I'm afraid that there are no books about Horcruxes in the library."

Sian looked downcast at this news. "Really?"

Crighton nodded her head solemnly. "I'm afraid so, my child."

Sian looked quite annoyed at this news and muttered, "Blast." Crighton chuckled before she turned her attention back on me and continued seriously.

"And that is why it is important for us to obtain this memory. As usual Sian, you will stay behind, and to you, Kiara, good luck ... and goodnight."

A little taken aback by this abrupt dismissal, I got to my feet quickly.

"Goodnight, ma'am."

As I closed the study door behind me, I distinctly heard Philomena Naenia say, "I can't see why the girl should be able to do it better than you, Crighton."

"I wouldn't expect you to, Philomena," replied Crighton, as Kenna gave another low, musical cry.