"'The thing about growing up with Fred and George,' said Ginny thoughtfully, 'is that you sort of start thinking anything's possible if you've got enough nerve.'"

- J. K. Rowling, The Order of the Phoenix, Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter 4: Breaking the Veil

It was one thing to promise to break a spell no one understood or had encountered before, Kara thought two days later, watching Remus pour over yet another book. (Where was he getting them from?) It was quite another to actually do it.

She hauled herself together. She had another shift at the Cauldron. If Remus wanted to chase down the impossible, she certainly wasn't going to deter him, but she had no real faith it would work.

"Night, Remus," she said from the front door. "Don't wait up."

He didn't respond. Well, at least he had a project.

She replaced the wards - an old habit from wartime. They hadn't been particularly good about keeping them then. They hadn't had a routine, none of them had. But when James and Lily had gone into hiding, she and Remus had both started setting them regularly.

Remus had started again when Sirius had broken out, and Kara had kept it up when Remus had returned home. Remus had not protested.

She wondered if he, like Dumbledore, had never really believed it was over.

She was relieved, honestly, that Remus had figured it out. The secret had lain heavily on her over the years, and sharing, even that little piece, allowed a little more breath into her lungs. But she didn't how to handle his sudden, single-minded pursuit of a counterspell.

Dumbledore would never have approved.

Dumbledore was, of course, wrong.

It was impossible for her not to have considered, over the years, what she would do if the curse were broken, and, half-formed and unspoken, even in her own mind, a plan lay. It was not a thing she would examine too closely.

She entered the Cauldron to a raucous environment. People were still talking about the World Cup, and word was started to spread about the Triwizard Tournament as well.

She stowed her things in the office, grabbed an apron, and hurried to help Tom.

Busy shifts were best when she had a great deal on her mind, and Kara fell into the smooth actions of fetching drinks and taking orders with ease. No table-waiting for her tonight. She was strictly behind the counter.

About nine, Arthur Weasley popped in, looking haggard. She passed him a glass of mead without his asking as he sat down at the counter.

"Thank you, Kara," he said. "Molly will likely hex my bollocks off for not going straight home, but I need a minute."

The place had cleared out. A quick glance around the room told Kara she wasn't wanted anywhere, so she settled by Arthur and started cleaning glasses.

"How are you?" she asked softly.

Arthur smiled. They were not close, but he was enough of a regular that they were comfortable with each other. "Tired, of course. Trying to keep the upheaval to a minimum while still making sure everything...gets looked into that needs to."

Kara nodded. "How are Molly and the kids handling it? I think I heard you were there?"

He sighed heavily. "Yes, and in the thick of it. We've had Harry with us - You've heard all about the Dark Mark, I suppose?"

"Of course. Remus and I do read the papers, you know."

"Remus..." Arthur mused. "Would that be Remus Lupin? He was teaching at the school last year."

"Yes, that's him. He's my oldest friend, and we've been flatmates ever since...Housemates now, I guess."

"The kids quite liked him," Arthur said. "Shame about all that getting out about him being a werewolf. From what I've heard, he was an excellent Defense teacher. The best they've ever had, they all said."

"And I will tell you that I have never seen him so happy as when he got the offer from Dumbledore. He always wanted to be a teacher. And it's hard enough for him to get a job at all..."

"Yes..." Arthur frowned. "I wonder..."

She waited.

He cleared his throat, eyeing her carefully. "Forgive me if I'm being impertinent. I don't know him, you see, but...my department was allocated some extra funds for help with our backlog."

She frowned at him. "Backlog?"

"Yes, quite a bit of it, and we're all busy with security what with what happened at the World Cup." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Some of the backlog is, ah, my own fault. We don't know exactly who it was wearing those Death Eater masks, and I've used the excuse to conduct a few new raids on people we've always suspected..."

"The Malfoys...The Macnairs..." Kara rattled off names. "Nothing turned up, I'm sure."

"That's the thing," said Arthur. "We found some...ah, items that we haven't been able to fully identify. They've been confiscated, but they are just sitting around, waiting to be properly investigated and catalogued."

"And you are thinking a former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who fought against Voldemort in the War and has a reputation for being both clever and competent might make a successful go at it."

"Yes, that's what I'm suggesting," Arthur said, shuddering at her use of the Dark Lord's name and taking a good swallow from his mead.

"Arthur." Kara looked at him directly. "I appreciate your kindness, but the Ministry would never allow it. And even if they did, if he turned anything up, they would accuse him of evidence tampering."

Arthur looked down at his now empty glass. "They don't have to know he was involved."

She blinked at him.

"The money is mine to allocate as I wish, as long as it's for Ministry use, and anything he finds will be verified by a Ministry employee."

She smiled then. "Speaking of clever men."

He blushed, set the glass down, and stood up. "You'll ask him then?"

"I will."

He smiled, shook her hand and was almost at the door when she called after him.

"Arthur? Thank you."

Remus was, not unexpectedly, still awake when she came in that night.

"Put down that grimoire. I have something to tell you," she said by way of greeting.

He looked up at her, glanced at the clock, and stretched. "I didn't realize it was so late."

"I gather you haven't found anything."

He frowned at her assumption, but of course she was right. It was, again, that lack of hope that rankled him. But then, he couldn't common-sense her out of this one.

"No, not yet," he admitted.

"Well, I'm afraid you'll have to leave it for a bit, because I was talking to Arthur Weasley, and he said he's got a job for you, if you're interested."

"I can't work at the Ministry, Kara."

"That's what I told him, but he said he can allocate the pay as needed, and that the Ministry need never know you were involved."

"My favorite kind of work," he said bitterly.

He had been sitting in front of the fireplace, which, in August, was of course not lit. They kept a couple of armchairs and a couple of softas in their living area, surrounded on all sides by shelves and shelves of books, and some plants that Kara had insisted on "to break up the monotony". Kara dragged the second armchair over so that it was right in front of his, sat, and leaned over to look him in the eye.

"I get it, but it's a good offer, and it was kindly meant. Moreover, it utilizes your particular area of expertise." She explained what Arthur wanted, and he considered.

With a sigh, he said, finally, "Yes, yes, you're right. And, moreover, it might give us a leg up on things if Voldemort does return."

He knew she knew he was searching her face for some sign, but she ignored it.

"It'll take some of my time away from our project," he said warningly, and when she got up and rearranged the chairs without responding, realized finally that she thought he was on a fool's errand.

Better a fool than to give up entirely, he thought as he watched her leave the room.

The work Arthur had for Remus proved to be intermittent. He began corresponding regularly with the man as the year wore on, and when nothing was needed, Remus would return to his quest to find a cure for Kara.

For her part, she neither encouraged nor discouraged him. In time, he came to realize that it wasn't simply that she didn't believe there was a cure, it was that she couldn't let herself believe it. To let that in, then to fail...it was simply too painful. Remus was soon convinced that there was something very particular she was dreading.

It made him all the more resolved.

After a bit of reading on Legilimancy and Occlumency and mental spells in general, Remus had asked to examine her. Kara had agreed, without fanfair.

What he'd found once entering her mind, he could only describe as a wall of adamant.

Her mind was divided, and on the side he was on were all the things he already knew...

Flashes of her with the Marauders.

Busy nights at the Leaky Cauldron, with Tom barking orders, and her snapping back.

A cup of tea, steam curling in the crisp morning air.

A quiet cove he didn't recognize, the sound of the sea a soothing balm on her tangled emotions.

Her last sight of James.

A thousand nights spent next to Sirius, sharing a bed, but never truly being intimate, and, because he was in her mind, the ache that always accompanied those moments.

Some moments with Gideon Prewett which ought to have remained private, and which Remus was embarrassed to have encountered.

The tangled mess of guilt and shame that followed his death, as they mingled with the safety she felt in Sirius' care of her.

Remus learned quite a lot about his best friend as he searched her, but he could not see a way to bring the wall down. It was solid and smooth and thick, and everything they needed was on the other side of it.

He searched on. He read a thousand accounts of mental spells and blocks, of damage caused by injury, of spells gone awry. He consulted with a Healer he knew at St. Mungo's, careful to keep the details private.

He found nothing.

The very immediate world was encroaching in.

They heard about Harry's selection as champion. A look was all it took for them to know they were on the same page: This had been no accident.

They heard the rumors surrounding Bertha Jorkin's disappearance, Barty Crouch's absence...

Arthur paid them a visit a little before Christmas. Kara introduced him to Remus, whom they had somehow forgotten only knew him by reputation. He came back a month or so later, and brought Molly.

There was something in that. Despite a slight age difference, and a marked difference in temperament and lifestyle. Four people living on the edge of the action, yet more aware, seemingly, than those around them, of the darkness closing in. They didn't talk about it overmuch, but they knew.

Winter gave way to spring. Molly had Kara over for a few ladies' tea dates. In general, Kara seemed to welcome the extension of her social life, but one day she came back looking not a little exasperated.

Remus raised his eyebrows, and she scowled at him.

"I hope Molly is still standing," he laughed softly.

A glare this time. He found some wine, handed her a glass, and waited.

Kara sighed. "I know she means well, but she's so...pushy. And I am not one of her children."

This time Remus fought to keep both his expression and his comments to himself. He had never seen anyone mother Kara, and he'd known her since they were sixteen.

"It's never bothered me before what other people might think of our living together," Kara explained, "but I suppose that's because for the most part no one cares. But Molly...is old-fashioned. And she seems to think we're in denial."

Remus chose his next words very carefully. "I have never worried about it either. Which may have been wrong of me, because I suspect it is not good for your reputation to be living with a werewolf. I probably should never have agreed to this."

Now she was the one watching him warily.

He held up a hand. "But, I'm not sorry we made the decision. And as you do a good enough job being a misanthrope on your own," he smiled at her, "I do not think it has really damaged your social standing. But one thing has been bothering me, and I've been wondering if I should mention it."

They sat down. There was always a point in their weightier discussions where they sat down.

He wrapped his hands around the goblet in front of him. "I am wondering if the fact we are living together is why Sirius never tried to contact you when he broke out."

Kara digested this for a moment. Then, she rubbed a hand across her face. "Idiot," she said.

"I quite agree," Remus said, smiling. "And while Molly may be forgiven her zeal, as she is only now meeting us...Sirius ought to have known better."

Kara smiled back, fondly. "You are too self-deprecating. And - I mean this with all of the love in the world, Remus - I don't think either of us ever wanted to."

He felt a rush of affection for her, but he thought she needed to say the rest of it aloud. "And," he said, "you are still in love with someone else."

Her smile faded, and she looked away.

Very, very quietly, she said, "Yes. Yes, I am still in love with someone else."

Sometime in April, Arthur had another haul for him. He dropped it off after his shift at the Ministry, and Remus had the items spread before him when Kara came home several hours later.

She was frowning as she entered the kitchen.

"Hello, Kara," said Remus, relatively cheerfully. He indicated the items in front of him. "More from Arthur. These are from the Malfoy's, as I understand it, and were confiscated several years ago."

Kara wasn't listening to him. She approached the table slowly, intently, all her attention on a mirror about the size of a dinner plate.

"Ahh, that." Remus moved near to her. "We have no idea what that is. It seems to be a mirror, but it doesn't reflect anything. Arthur says all of their spells have yielded nothing. It just...sits there."

She still wasn't paying attention. Mesmerized, she leaned a bit forward. "That's because...because..."

She extended a hand over the table, over the mirror. Slowly, she moved forward, her fingertips just brushing the mirror's surface...

There was a sound like a loud bang, and Kara collapsed to the floor.