Chapter Text

Chapter One: The McKiernan Fairgrounds

The villagers of Dartmoor in the southern part of Devon, England, were quite accustomed to loud noises. In a tradition dating back to the Napoleonic Wars (1803–1815), the British Army used the moor’s national park grounds as training grounds. Sounds of artillery and gunfire were commonplace, and residents ignored them.

The rest of the park was private land, and the property owners took advantage of the lush royal forests’ (called the Hairy Hand by locals) appeal to hikers and campers. The McKiernan/Roberts family were one such owner. For the last hundred years, the large acreage was passed along between generations, attracting all kinds of visitors, campers, and exhibitors who wanted to camp and hunt in the lush moors of the countryside.

The McKiernans’ always kept the land neat and tidy, though they always deferred to preserving the area's natural beauty. Their neighbours, the McGorteys, kept their grounds mostly barren to attract the type of campers who liked the idea of camping without such “inconveniences” as high grass, shrubbery, or the animals that commonly lived within them. 

Dartmoor is known for its myths and legends, providing hours of entertainment for each generation of McKiernan and Roberts children. It is reputedly the haunt of pixies, a headless horseman, a mysterious pack of "spectral hounds", and a large black dog, among others. During the Great Thunderstorm of 1638, the moorland village of Widecombe-in-the-Moor was said to have been visited by the Devil. Many landmarks have ancient legends and ghost stories associated with them: the ancient burial site of Childe's Tomb, the rock pile called Bowerman's Nose, the stone crosses that mark former mediaeval routes across the moor, and the allegedly  haunted Jay’s Grave. 

Back in the early ’70s, Liam Roberts (the current land owner, now a man himself) and his younger cousin by six months, Keelin McKiernan (who was visiting from the family’s home country of Ireland at the time), were playing in the lush countryside near Jay’s Grave. Jay’s Grave is a small burial mound at the side of a minor road, about 1 mile (1.6 km) northwest of Hound Tor, at the entrance to a green lane that leads to Natsworthy. The boys noticed fresh flowers on the mound - a common occurrence, though no one admits to ever putting them there. 

As the local lore goes, Kitty (or, in some stories, Ann) Jay was a wealthy landowner’s mistress and housekeeper. Upon learning Kitty (or Ann) was carrying her husband’s child, the landowner's wife banished her from the grounds. Filled with despair, she hung herself in the barn, killing both herself and her unborn baby. The landowner found her body and buried her at the crossroads where they first met.

“Right then,” eleven-year-old Liam crossed his arms in front of his chest and jutted his chin. “Dare you to take Kitty Jay’s flowers.”

Ten-and-a-half-year-old Keelin glanced over to the mound with ever so slight hesitation. She had heard the stories of Kitty Jay’s ghost haunting anyone who disturbed her final resting place whispered around town.

“What would I want a bunch of stupid flowers for?” Keelin replied.

“Scared, are ya?” Liam continued. “I bet Finnegan would do it if she were here,” he said, naming Keelin’s twin brother.

Keelin furrowed her brow. She was quite sure her brother would, indeed, take the dare. However, so would she. Keelin didn’t appreciate the comparison and assumption with her twin, though it happened every day in their ten and a half years. “Well, Finn ain ‘ere, is he?” she said defiantly and stomped over to the raised mound. “I’m ‘ere, and I ain’t scared!” And, with one fell swoop, Keelin McKiernan swiped the small arrangement of loose flowers up off the mound. 

There was a brief moment of silence. Neither child moved. Keelin’s tight fist of yellow and white flowers was raised towards the sky as if she were pointing a stick to the heavens. An eruption of white petals flew from the stems as an ominous wind blustered around the mound. 

And then, just as quickly as the wind squalled, it ceased. What was left of the flowers still raised in Keelin’s hands drooped towards the ground. The cousins looked at each other incredulously, their breath slowly returning to their bodies.

“Told ya,” Keelin said, suddenly out of breath.

“You’re gonna be haunted now,” Liam said, trying to regain some dignity, especially since he himself had never dared to touch the flowers in his eleven years. “Kitty Jay’s ghost will follow you home to Ireland,” he added.

“You’re a right thick eejit,” Keelin spat as she tossed the flowers to the ground. “‘specially if you believe this shite of a ghost story.”

“Whaddayamean?” Liam said crossly.

“Suicidal mistress?” Keelin jeered. “If I’ve ‘eard that story once, I’ve ‘eard it a million times.”

“What, you fancy yourself the ghost story expert or something?”

“Maybe I do,” Keelin said with a twinkle in her eye. Both she and Finn loved all things supernatural.

“Everyone knows there’s no such thing as magic and ghosts,” Liam said.

“Do they, now?” Keelin said, thoroughly enjoying watching her older cousin squirm. “I’d make sure you’re sure about that fact before throwing it around.”

“Is that a threat?” Liam straightened defiantly.

“Only if you take it as one,” Keelin said and, without warning, threw the drooping flowers straight at Liam. 

Liam tripped over his own feet in an effort to dodge the flowers and landed face-first in the mound. The young boy screamed and launched himself backwards, nearly taking Keelin out at the knees. 

“Lookit, who’s scared now!” Keelin laughed, though she reached out her hand to help her cousin back to his feet. After Liam brushed the dust of the old road off his clothes, young Keelin put her arm around her cousin’s shoulders. “Let me tell ya some good ghost stories,” she said as they walked back to the McKiernan Fairgrounds. The rest of the summer holiday was filled with sounds of Keelin and Finn’s hushed tones as they delighted and entertained Liam with all of the tales of the land and beyond.

Now a grown man, with hours upon hours of solitary work in the fairgrounds, Liam frequently thought back to that “Summer of Ghost Stories” with his cousins, Keelin and Finnegan. Interestingly enough, the twins were accepted to a prestigious boarding school in the Scottish Highlands that following year and never returned to visit the family lands in Dartmoor. 

Liam was hurt at the apparent slight when he was younger but didn’t let it bother him as an adult (even though he always was reminded of Keelin whenever he’d pass Jay’s Grave or any of the other crosses that dotted the fairgrounds). If Keelin and Finn thought themselves too good for the Dartmoor countryside after attending their posh boarding school, so be it. Many people thought they were too good for the Dartmoor countryside, and those people usually didn’t understand hard work. Society has gone soft. 

He took a moment’s rest to rub his hard calloused hands against his trousers and gaze out over the moors. Liam could see the McGortey’s property in the distance and shook his head at the stark and bare fairgrounds. Its’ history (ghosts or no ghosts) and the beautiful vegetation made the countryside rich. The McGortey’s grounds had neither. Unfortunately, The McGortey’s did have something the McKeirnan’s didn’t: customers.

Liam had been watching the family’s savings start to dwindle faster and faster. They were in desperate need of campers, or they would have to start selling off the land. 

A plume of dust caught his eye off to the right of the horizon. A car was approaching his land on the dirt road from the direction of the small town a few miles away. While they weren’t in the middle of nowhere, it was still out of the ordinary for someone to drive down the road by accident. Whoever was in the car was meant to be coming to visit Liam. 

He craned his neck to get a look at the car, but all he could tell was that it was a nondescript black sedan. Liam didn’t know anyone with that type of car. In fact, the car seemed quite official looking. Liam had a fleeting thought of the British Army coming to “borrow” his land for their training exercises but tried to push the idea from his head. The last time they “borrowed” the Roberts’/McKiernan’s land, it looked like the McGortey’s from all the troops tramping down the vegetation, and he lost out on what little income he could have made from campers that month.

Liam leaned up against the tree as the car got closer and closer. There wasn’t much else he could do but wait. Soon, the car was a few dozen yards away. He tried to peer through the windshield nonchalantly to identify the driver. A flash of blond hair caught his eye through the driver’s side windshield.

The sedan slowed to a stop a few feet in front of Liam. He didn’t move as the driver’s side door opened, and the occupant stepped out. 

“Liam,” sighed the driver with a smile. Her blonde hair and the splattering of freckles over her fair skin hadn’t changed since they were kids.

“Keelin,” Liam nodded curtly.

“It’s been much too long!” Keelin said, grinning mischievously, exactly like her twin, Finn.

“It has indeed,” Liam said stiffly.

“How ya gettin’ on?”

“Fine.”

“When did ya adopt your da’s limited vocabulary?” Keelin asked, fishing for conversation. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say more than five words at a time.”

“Dunno,” Liam said measuredly.

Neither cousin knew what to say next. The lull of silence was deafening.

“Well, it’s obvious you’re not happy with me for whatever reason,” Keelin said, crossing her arms. “Wouldja like to tell me what I did to deserve this warm welcome, or should we just stand here in brutal silence some more?”

“Yeh can jus’ tell me why yer ’ere. No need to get into ancient history,” Liam said. He wasn’t necessarily angry, but he wasn’t in much of a welcoming mood. 

Keelin sighed. “Fine,” she said, shifting her weight to her other leg, but she decided to give small talk one more try. “Regardless of this little angry charade, I have missed ya, ya know. Yeh look good. Family’s good?” Liam only nodded. “That’s good. Yeh have two wee ones now?”

“Three.”

“Aah, the curse of the McKiernans and Roberts,” Keelin laughed. “Everyone has three kids. No more, no less.”

The corner of Liam’s mouth twitched upwards, but no one could actually call it a smile. Still, Keelin took advantage of the break. “I’m working on me own three, though work has been quite busy lately.”

“What do you do?”

Keelin hesitated briefly. “I have a… government job, actually,” she said. “And that’s why I’m here. We’re looking to procure some land for an event coming up in August, and I thought of yeh.”

“What kind of event?” Finn asked, his suspicion coming back.

“It’s really quite fascinating and exciting,” Keelin grinned. “It’s kind of part sporting event, part large gathering. Thousands of people will be visiting from all over the world and need a place to camp and stay, and what better place than the McKiernan and Robert’s fairgrounds!”

“We just call it the Roberts’ Fairgrounds now. Dropped the McKiernan when your family stopped coming. What kind of sporting event?”

“It’s, uh, a very obscure sport. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that the government will pay you very well.”

“There has to be some sort of catch,” Liam said, forcing any hope that had snuck up back down.

“Nope, no catch,” Keelin said. “Well, unless you consider cosplaying a catch.”

“A what play?”

“Cosplay,” Keelin said. “It's when people dress up as fictional characters from books or movies.”

“What kind of spanner dresses up in fancy dress for sporting events by the government?”

“A lot of them,” Keelin said, smiling. “A lot of them with large pocketbooks. So, are you interested?”

“Will the government reimburse me for any damage to me property?”

“Absolutely,” Keelin nodded. “With interest.”

“I’ll have to think about it,” Liam said.

“Of course,” Keelin nodded. “But I do need to know fairly quickly. We’d need to start construction of the arena in the valley over there.”

“Construction!” Liam exclaimed. “I thought you were just talking about campers.”

“The campers would probably use the neighbouring property since it’s a bit less overgrown.”

“Our land is not overgrown,” Liam spat.

“A bit more flat then,” Keelin said, trying to smooth things over. “Listen, I can guarantee your land will be returned to you exactly as it was, and you will be all the more well off because of it.”

“That’s a pretty hard promise to keep,” Liam said.

“Not when you have the force of the full government behind you,” she replied with a twinkle in her eye.

“The government?” Liam said with a bitter laugh. “When did anyone think the government could do anything with any sort of efficiency?!”

“Oh, I assure you--” 

“Didja know we were hurtin’ for money? What is this, pity?” Liam took a step toward Keelin

“No, I--”

“Feelin’ sorry for ya poor cousin, are ya? Got a fancy government job and now coming to rub it in?”

“No, I--”

“Get to go to a  fancy prep school and think you’re better than--”

“Confundo,” she said quietly. Liam stared at her blankly, not really processing the made-up word. Then he smiled sadly.

“I guess we could use the money,” Liam sighed. “And would it mean we get to see you again? I’d love for ya to meet the family.”

“Of course. And Finn may come too!”

“Finnegan!” Liam said with a smile. “How is that old bloke!?”

“He’s good,” Keelin said softly. “Actually has a nice postal job in Lavenham.”

“I thought it was impossible for England to have a postal worker under 75 years old,” Liam laughed.

“Finn’s an old soul, I guess.”

“This is going to be such a great opportunity for me and the kids,” Liam said. “Thanks for thinking of us.”

“Of course,” Keelin smiled. “It’ll be great to catch up.”

“Absolutely.”

“So I will be in touch in a week or so,” Keelin said, backing up towards her car. 

“Sounds great,” Liam said, grinning from ear to ear. “Can’t wait to tell Lauren and the kids!”

-----

“How did he take it?” Finn shifted the phone receiver between his ear and shoulder as he separated his mail.

“Fine, after I confounded him,” Keelin said halfway across the country. “What are you doing?”

“What?”

“Your voice is all muffled.”

“Oh, sorry,” Finn said, grabbing the phone and holding it correctly. “Better?”

“Yes. I still don’t understand why you insist on using these muggle machines.”

“They’re of a magic all their own,” Finnegan laughed. 

“Whatever you say,” Keelin sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Finn immediately stopped looking at his mail and straightened.

“What do you mean, ‘What’s wrong?’” Keelin repeated.

“I know that sigh,” Finn said. “Something’s wrong.”

“It’s probably nothing,” Keelin said. She knew better than to argue with her twin. “But one of my coworkers has gone missing.”

“Maybe the stress of everything got to her?”

“No, she was so excited about the World Cup,” Keelin said. “And then, all of a sudden, she announced she was going to Albania and never came back..”

“I hear Albania is lovely this time of year,” Finn joked.

“It’s not like her, Finn,” Keelin said. “She was supposed to come with me to talk to the other Muggle family - The McGorteys - when I went to Liam’s. It’s not like her not to follow through on such an important job.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Kee,” Finn said, his eye drifting back to the stack of mail on his counter. “Maybe she found a nice Albanian bloke an’ decided to stay there an’ make a new home for herself.”

“No, there was something weird about it,” Keelin said. “She had been off for a while - really forgetful and a bit soft in the head. Then, without much warning, she decided to go on holiday to Albania even though we were swamped. And no one in charge - not Barty Crouch nor Ludo Bagman - seem to find it concerning.”

“Remind me who Barty is again?” Finn asked.

“Head of Department of International Magical Co-operation,” Keelin said. “Really, Finnegan. You should really know this stuff.”

“I’m quite content living in a blissful Muggle ignorance, dear sister.”

“I don’t understand you sometimes,” Keelin sighed.

“Sure you do,” Finn laughed. “We’re twins. You’re the only one who understands me.”

“Funny how you don’t have to ask who Ludo Bagman is,” Keelin chuckled. 

“No matter how deep undercover I am in the Muggle world, I will unfortunately never forget that giant bumbling bumble bee.”

“Just count your lucky stars ya don’t have to plan a Quidditch World Cup with him at the helm,” Keelin said.

“Oh, I do,” Finnegan said, laughing. “I thank Merlin every day.”

“Have you heard anything about it from your contacts?” Keelin asked.

“Nah, all quiet ‘round these parts,” Finn said. “A bit of an uptick in some Muggle aggression, but that’s all that has come ‘cross me mailbag.”

“More than usual?”

“Not necessarily, but I’ll keep me eye on it.”

“What’s going on with your special top-secret assignment?” Keelin asked as offhandedly as she could muster.

“Oh, loads,” Finn said with a twinkle in his eye as he twisted the cord around his finger.

“Not even a hint?” Keelin sighed.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be top secret, would it?”

“My brother, the ever-elusive Auror,” Keelin sighed, knowing she could not get anything out of him.

“You forgot eclectic. And you wouldn't want it any other way,” Finn said, his mischievous grin shining through the telephone wires. “Make sure someone keeps an eye on Liam and his lot, will ya? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got packages to pick up and deliver.”