Days after hearing Duncan Ashe's confession, Artemis was still reeling from his story.

Jacob, betray Duncan? His best friend? His lover? She didn't believe it. She couldn't believe it. Even if he had been threatened by R - by the Cabal - there was no way that he'd have done anything to hurt Duncan.

Then again, Duncan said that Jacob had told him all of this himself. Why would Jacob have done that if wasn't true? Unless, of course, Duncan had gotten the wrong end of the stick. Yes. It was a misunderstanding, that was all. A very big misunderstanding.

But, just to make sure that was all it was, Artemis decided to talk to the one other person who knew about it, according to Duncan, at least. Although she and Professor Rakepick were no longer on good terms, Dumbledore had said that she should trust the former Curse-Breaker, and if finding out what really happened meant talking to Rakepick, she would have to talk to Rakepick.

"Professor," she said, approaching her at the end of her last Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson of the spring term, "I need to talk to you about something."

Rakepick raised her eyebrows and blinked at her. Artemis took this as an indication that she was supposed to carry on talking.

"Well, actually, it's two things," she told her. "Firstly, Bill and I know where the Vault portrait is, and secondly-"

"Where is it?" Professor Rakepick interrupted her.

"Peeves has it. Anyway, what I-"

"How did you find this out?"

"Duncan Ashe told us. He also-"

"I was under the impression that you had already spoken with the ghost of Mr Ashe," Rakepick said, interrupting her once more. Artemis tried her hardest not to roll her eyes. "Why were you not able to get this information sooner?"

"That's the other thing I want to talk to you about," replied Artemis, louder than she had intended to. "Duncan sent us looking in the wrong place deliberately out of spite, because he said Jacob betrayed him and was the reason he died. He said to ask you about it if I didn't believe him, which I'm not sure I do, so here I am."

Rakepick breathed, and leant back against a desk, her eyes fixed on Artemis.

"Exactly what did Duncan tell you?" she asked, her voice quieter than usual.

"He said that Jacob was working for R. That R - the Cabal, he called them - were giving him instructions and then they said that... that they needed a life. For the Vaults. They made him choose who was going to die, and he chose Duncan."

"I see."

"Is it true?" Artemis asked Rakepick. "Is that true? That my brother was working for R, and that he was the reason Duncan died? Duncan said you knew all about it."

"I don't know all about it, but I know a little," Rakepick's mouth twitched ever so slightly. "You see, I met your brother when he was searching for the Vaults."

"You what?"

"You heard me."

"But... why didn't you tell me this before?"

"No one knew, other than myself, Jacob, and Dumbledore. It would it would appear that Mr Ashe was also aware, however that's beside the point. I offered Jacob some advice, shared some knowledge. I suggested that he make contact with R."

"You lead him to R?" Artemis frowned. "But I thought that they were the enemy."

"They are dangerous, yes, but they have a great deal of knowledge about the Vaults. Their history, their secrets, how to open them. They were a valuable asset, and besides," Rakepick gave her a wry smile, "one should always keep their enemies close."

"What about Jacob and Duncan?"

"One of the pieces of information R gave us was that a sacrifice was needed to be able to break one of the final curses. The ultimate sacrifice. A life, one that was significant to the person attempting to open the Vaults."

"But Jacob wouldn't..." Artemis' voice tailed off, and she shook her head.

"At first, he was insistent that no one would hurt his loved ones," Rakepick said. Her face was growing darker by the second, "but, R was getting more and more threatening, and Jacob couldn't protect Duncan any longer. He was killed."

"You should have told me this before."

"Jacob didn't want me to tell you. He didn't want anyone to know - especially not you or your mother - because he felt ashamed. Instead he put his energy into finding the other Vaults, so that Duncan's sacrifice wouldn't be in vain."

"So, Duncan did get the wrong idea," Artemis nodded, relieved. "Jacob didn't betray him, or just use him to open the Vaults, or choose me over him."

Rakepick's eyes narrowed, and she regarded Artemis with a peculiar look in her eyes.

"What does Duncan think happened?" she asked her.

"He thinks that Jacob never really cared for him, that he was just pretending. That he knew that R were either going to sacrifice him or... or me. He used him to protect me. That's what Duncan thinks, anyway."

"I wonder what gave him that idea."

"I dunno. Jacob came to explain it all after he died, when he was looking for the Vault portrait. Duncan must've got the wrong end of the stick, clearly."

"Clearly," Rakepick nodded. A shadow crossed her face, and Artemis tilted her head to get a better idea of what had caused it. But, less than a second later, Rakepick's usual composure had returned, and Artemis was left wondering if she'd imagined it completely. "At least you have managed to get him back on side. Well done."

"Thanks," Artemis muttered, still not smiling. "So, now what?"

"Now you need to try and get the portrait back from Peeves."

"How do I do that?"

Rakepick stood up and pointed to the door that lead out of her classroom to the corridor.

"By whatever means necessary," she said, before leaving Artemis and walking up to her mezzanine office without another word.

The Easter holidays had arrived, not that the fifth years would be getting much of a holiday. Other than Barnaby, whose dad wanted him home "to keep an eye on him", everyone Artemis knew was going to be staying at Hogwarts over the break to revise for their upcoming O.W.L.s.

On the last day of term, the afternoon's lessons were cancelled, and all the fifth years were sent to their Heads of Houses in order to discuss the exams and their importance for the future.

"It's time for you all to start thinking about what you'd like to do with your lives after you leave Hogwarts," Professor Sprout told the Hufflepuffs, all dotted around Greenhouse Two. "Your O.W.L. grades will determine what subjects you are able to study at N.E.W.T. level, and these will be what your future employers are looking at. Certain jobs will require N.E.W.T.s and O.W.L.s at different grades to consider you. I have several leaflets for you all to look over in groups of four, and I'll be coming around to help answer any questions."

Artemis looked at her three best friends, assuming that they'd be grouped together, but in the corner of her eye, she noticed that Chiara Lobosca was standing very quietly in the corner of the greenhouse, all alone.

"I might see if Chiara wants to be in a group with me," she murmured, and Tonks jumped down off the workbench she'd been perched on, knocking Rowan's quill onto the floor as she did.

"Yeah, we don't want to leave her out," she nodded.

The two of them joined Chiara on the far side of the greenhouse, and their group of four was completed - to Artemis' disgust - by Diego Caplan.

"Do you know what you want to do when you're older, Chiara?" Artemis asked, pointedly ignoring Diego. Chiara looked at her over the top of of a leaflet with her eerily pale blue eyes.

"Not exactly," she said, her voice soft and lyrical as always. "I do know that I want to do something that helps other people, though. What about you?"

"Sort of, yeah. I want to be a Curse-Breaker."

"Do you actually want to be a Curse-Breaker, though?" Diego asked, earning himself a fierce glare from Artemis. "Or do you just want to do it because you can't think of anything else?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just that you do so much curse-breaking already, it's kind of what everyone expects of you at this point. I thought that maybe you might just be saying it because of that."

"I don't do things just because other people think I should," Artemis told him, obstinately, her arms crossed in front of her chest. "What do you want to do, Diego?"

"I don't know. Maybe a professional dueller."

Artemis made a doubtful noise. She had been practising duelling since her first year, and was very good at it. She seriously doubted that Diego was. Before she could say anything about Diego's skills as a duellist, however, Professor Sprout approached their table.

"How are we all getting along?" she asked them, smiling broadly. "Any exciting career ideas for you four?"

"Not really, Professor," Tonks said, chucking down a leaflet. "To be honest, I don't see the point in this. We're fifteen. No one knows what they want to do with their life at fifteen, except for control freaks like Rowan who plan out their bowel movements a week in advance, and dragon perverts like Charlie Weasley."

"I think the word you're after there is 'enthusiasts', Dora."

"It really isn't, Professor."

Professor Sprout chuckled and shook her head, before looking at the leaflet Artemis held in her hands.

"Curse-breaking for you, Artemis? I expected as much."

Artemis avoided eye contact with Diego as she nodded at Professor Sprout.

"Yeah. It says I need to have Arithmancy, though."

"Only at O.W.L. level. I'm sure if you work hard enough, you'll be able to pass Arithmancy," Sprout told her, with a kind smile. Artemis pursed her lips and shrugged.

She had hated Arithmancy from her very first lesson, and had struggled to scrape passing grades in the subject ever since. The only reason she hadn't dropped the class entirely was because she needed it to be a Curse-Breaker.

"That's stupid," Tonks said, indignantly, hitting the workbench with her fist for effect. "Artemis has been tutored by the former head Curse-Breaker at Gringotts for two years, she's broken the curses on three Cursed Vaults, which even Dumbledore couldn't do. What does she need a bloody Arithmancy O.W.L. for?"

As Professor Sprout started explaining the importance of basic Arithmancy in Curse-Breaking, Artemis' attention drifted to the leaflet in her hands.

Travel! Adventure! Danger! Treasures and Mysteries! If that is what you're after, consider a career as a Curse-Breaker. Gringotts Bank is looking for skilled, dedicated, and dauntless individuals for exciting opportunities in the field of Curse-Breaking...

Artemis nodded. That definitely sounded like the job for her. She read on. As well as an O.W.L. in Arithmancy, she'd need to pass History of Magic and Astronomy, and achieve a high score in Potions and Care of Magical Creatures, ideally taking those to N.E.W.T. level. She'd need N.E.W.T.s in Charms, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Runes. She sighed. She had her work cut out for her.

At the end of the careers workshop, Artemis and Tonks walked up to the castle, where Artemis knew Barnaby would be waiting for her. She had planned on running back to meet him, not wanting him to have to hang around, especially knowing that he wouldn't be seeing her for two weeks, but she could tell that Tonks was in a bad mood.

"What's the matter?" she asked her.

"Oh, I dunno," Tonks shrugged. "I guess... Well, I've never thought about what I want to do after we leave here. I'd not really thought about us leaving here at all, really. I don't actually want us to."

"Leave, you mean?"

"Leave school, grow up, get jobs and be serious. It all sounds so dull. I'd prefer to just stay young and have fun and get into trouble and for it to not really matter."

"We can still have fun," Artemis told her, linking arms. "Penny and Rowan can take things seriously, and you and I can carry on having adventures and getting into trouble."

"Even when you're a top Curse-Breaker?"

"I'm already a top Curse-Breaker, aren't I? And it never stops me from getting up to mischief," Artemis and Tonks grinned at each other. "Actually, Tonks, you might be able to help me with a Curse-Breaking thing. I have to get something from Peeves to help get into the next Cursed Vault, but he never stays put in one place long enough for me to find him. Got any ideas on how to maybe attract his attention and get him to come to me so I can talk to him?"

"Oh, that's easy," Tonks laughed. "Peeves is a poltergeist, Artemis. All you need to do is make a scene, pull a prank. The more chaotic and messy, the better. If he respects you, then he'll be more likely to give you what you want, see."

"So, what do you suggest?"

Tonks' eyes flashed, and her smile grew impish.

"I know just the thing," she said.

Artemis hadn't known what she was expecting Tonks to come up with, but she certainly hadn't expected her to approach her in the library and present her with six bars of bright green soap a few days later.

"I showered only yesterday," Artemis told her. Tonks rolled her eyes.

"You can shower with this if you want, but I wouldn't suggest it," she grinned. "This isn't regular soap, Artemis. It's frogspawn soap. Replace all the soap from one of the bathrooms with this, wait for someone to come along and take a bath, and then just sit back and watch."

"Ugh, Tonks!"

"Not like that, you moron! I mean watch for Peeves!"

"Oh," Artemis turned the soap over in her hands. "Yeah, that could work. And if I use the prefects' bathroom, then Duncan will be there to help me talk to Peeves. Plus, the bath is huge, like a swimming pool."

"Is it? In that case, let me talk to Tulip. You're going to need more than six bars of soap to fill that."

That evening, Artemis made her way up to the fifth floor of the castle, fourteen bars of frogspawn soap hidden up her jumper. Tonks had shown her in the dormitory bathrooms how to hide objects inside shower heads and tap faucets ("this works really well with beetroot!"), so she started to hide the soap bars inside the many large taps that lined the bath of the prefects' bathroom.

"What are you doing?" Duncan Ashe asked her, floating over the top of a toilet cubicle.

"Getting hold of Peeves," Artemis told him, hiding the final soap bar and going into the cubicle to hide herself. "He likes mischief and pranks, this might just get his attention."

"It'll take more than a few bars of frog spawn soap to persuade Peeves to give you that portrait."

"Yeah, but it's a good place to start the negotiations."

"Maybe, but-"

"Shush," Artemis went to put her hand over Duncan's mouth, but her arm went straight through his head, giving her a sensation akin to dipping her hand into a bucket full of ice. It must have felt unpleasant for Duncan, too, because he pulled a face and his whole body shuddered. "Someone's coming!"

The sound of footsteps on marble carried across the bathroom to the cubicle in which Artemis stood with Duncan. She moved her hands closer to her face and crossed her fingers.

"Please be Merula, please be Merula," she whispered.

But it couldn't be Merula, because as the newcomer turned on the taps, they started to hum to themselves. Merula's humming couldn't possibly be that low-pitched. It was a boy.

The taps continued to run, and over the top of the cubicle door, steam could be seen rising from the bath tub. Artemis smirked. Good, she thought, the spawn should be starting to multiply any second...

"What the..." a boy's voice called out from the other side of the cubicle door. The voice was familiar. Very familiar. "Frogs?"

Artemis clamped her hand to her mouth, as she realised who the voice belonged to.

"Oh no," she said out loud.

"Who said that? Who's there?"

Artemis grimaced, and opened the door of the cubicle. Sopping wet, with a towel around his waist and a frog hopping at his feet, was Charlie. He narrowed his eyes and shook his head at her.

"Did you do this?" he asked, and she nodded apologetically. He bent down, picked up a handful of frogspawn, and threw it at her. She jumped out of the way, and he picked up another handful of frogspawn. "You're a git, Artemis Hexley."

"I didn't realise that you" - Artemis ducked as Charlie threw more frogspawn at her - "were going to be the next person to use the bath! Don't throw it at me!"

Two more handfuls of frogspawn were volleyed her way, and she  dodged them both. Charlie picked up another handful of frogspawn, a larger handful this time, and looked her straight in the eye.

"Run," he told her, a daring look in his eyes.

"What?"

"I said, run."

Artemis ran down the length of the bathroom, Charlie running after her. At the far end, he raised his arm as if to throw the spawn at her, but she spun around and ran back, hiding behind a wide sink-lined pillar. She looked around the pillar, and saw Charlie on the other side. She ducked back, and poked her head out the opposite side. So did he. Stalemate. She'd have to run again. Maybe get to the bath, and arm herself with some of her own frogspawn.

She darted out from the sink, and sprinted towards the bath. She had just made it to the edge, when a hand grabbed her by the elbow, and a second tipped something cold and slimy onto her head. She shrieked, and heard Charlie laughing. She pushed him away, intending to reach down and get herself some frogspawn, but as she did, her foot slid on a pool of tadpoles on the marble flooring, and she slipped and fell into the bath with a loud splash.

"Oh, Godric! I'm sorry, Artie, are you alright?" Charlie asked, suddenly concerned. Artemis stood up and spat out a small frog. Charlie crouched at the bath's edge, and held out his hand. "I didn't mean to push you in. Here, let me help you out."

Artemis waded through the now pond-like bath towards him, not able to see her own legs through the murky, tadpole-filled water. At the edge of the bath, she planted her feet on the wall, and gave Charlie her hands. She looked him in the eye and grinned wickedly. His eyes widened in horror as she pushed off from the side of the bath, pulling him into the water with her.

"I was trying to help you!" Charlie exclaimed. Artemis laughed and splashed him. He splashed her back. "You" - splash - "are such" - splash - "a-"

"What's going on in here?"

Charlie and Artemis stopped splashing each other, and both turned around to see Bill staring at them. Artemis grinned.

"We are on an extremely serious curse-breaking mission," she told him, laughing and leaning on the edge of the bath.

"Like hell you are," replied Bill. He looked around at the state of the bathroom.

Both Artemis and Charlie were covered in frogspawn, and the bath was completely full of tadpoles. The handfuls of frogspawn Charlie had thrown at Artemis had hatched on the marble floor, and there were now several frogs of various sizes hopping around the prefects' bathroom.

Bill shook his head. "What on earth are you two playing at?"

"Oh, lighten up, Bill," Artemis said, climbing out of the bath. "We're having fun."

"Fun? Artemis, you've turned the prefects' bathroom into a swamp."

"Yeah, to break a curse."

Bill blinked at her. He didn't seem to find this anywhere near as amusing as Artemis did.

"It's just a practical joke, Bill," Charlie muttered, also having climbed out of the bath, the towel around his waist now green. "What's the big problem?"

"The problem is that you two are prefects, you're supposed to be role models," said Bill. Artemis snorted. "No, Artemis, I'm serious. I'm the Head Boy, and I'm meant to be responsible for you two, and this is really not acceptable. Stop laughing."

"Sorry," said Artemis, and she tried to keep a straight face. In the corner of her eye, she saw that Charlie was also trying not to laugh, and she fought back a fresh wave of giggles.

"Really, I mean it. You're putting me in a really difficult situation because - for Godric's sake, can you just take this seriously, please? - I am meant to report this sort of thing to the teachers, and I'm not going to, but I shouldn't have to shirk my responsibilities just to stop you two from getting into trouble. Artemis, stop laughing. This really isn't funny."

Bill was wrong. It was funny. Artemis couldn't think of anything that wasn't funny about this situation, from the state of the bathroom to the frog that was sitting on top of Charlie's head without him knowing about it. Not to mention that Charlie was standing next to her, trying so hard not to laugh that she could feel his shoulders shaking with the effort, and that was making her attempts not to laugh more futile.

All the while, Bill was growing increasingly frustrated, and was trying even harder to tell them off. He continued to berate them, and the redder his face became, the funnier Artemis found it. She was having to bite her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing out loud, and even then, the occasional snigger was escaping her. Eventually, Bill gave up.

"There's no point me trying to talk sense to you while you're like this," he said, throwing his hands up in the air. He let out an exasperated sigh. "Just clean up this mess before the teachers find it." He stopped, looked at his brother, and did a double-take, and added, "and for the love of Merlin, Charlie, will you put some clothes on?"

That was the last straw for Artemis. She put both hands to her face and as she succumbed to a fit of uncontrollable giggles, which left her bent double and gasping for breath. She had just about managed to get herself under control when the frog on Charlie's head ribbited loudly, and started her off again.

"You're a nutcase, you are," muttered Charlie, chuckling softly as he moved the frog from his head onto hers, picked up his clothes, and left to get changed.

"Well, well, wasn't that fun?" a wry voice said, and the transparent head of Peeve's the poltergeist appeared through the mirror of the sink. "Peevesy enjoyed that very much, so he did."

"That's good," said Artemis, still getting her breath back. "I did hope you'd like it."

"You did this... for Peeves? For me?"

"Yeah."

"Why?" Peeves narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Why is little Hexy doing nice things for Peeves?"

"Because," Artemis didn't see much point in lying to him, "you have something I want. A portrait. One that Duncan gave you."

"You want my portrait?"

"I do, yeah."

"But it's mine!"

"I know, but-"

"Peevesy likes his portrait," the poltergeist let out a deep, sorrowful sigh. "Why can I never have nice things?"

"The thing is, Peeves, this portrait is really important. I need it to save Beatrice, the girl that's trapped in a portrait."

"Don't care. Not my circus, not my monkeys," said Peeves, and he blew a raspberry at Artemis.

"Please, Peeves?" she implored him. "I'll do anything."

"Anything?"

"Anything you want."

"Hmm... I'll tell you what I want," Peeve's eyes seemed to glitter. "I want a masterpiece."

"Right. Well, I'm not much good at art myself, but I can talk to Badeea Ali, she's a brilliant artist, apparently, and-"

"Not an artsy masterpiece, Hexy. I want a real masterpiece. A mischief masterpiece."

"A mischief masterpiece?"

"Oh yes," said Peeves, grinning from ear to ear, and staring dreamily into space. "Utter chaos on the grandest, most explosive scale."

Artemis frowned. She didn't really know what he meant by that, but she had no choice but to agree to his wishes.

"Fine," she said, nodding. "Fine, if it means you'll give me that portrait, I'll do it."

She'd just have to figure out what "it" was.

Professor Rakepick wasn't best pleased that Artemis had yet to persuade Peeves to give her the Vault portrait, but she had agreed to sanction anything  that was necessary in order to do so. Peeves had requested that Artemis created absolute chaos ("you mean that stunt in the prefects' bathroom wasn't enough?" Bill had grumbled) and when it came to creating chaos, she knew just who to go to.

"Thanks for agreeing to meet me here," Artemis said to Tonks and Tulip, who had joined her and Jae in the kitchens for detention, along with Barnaby, who had been even more keen to spend time with Artemis having not seen her for two weeks over the Easter Holidays.

"We heard chaos, we answered the call," replied Tulip, with a wry smile. "So, how can we help?"

"I need to get a portrait off Peeves the poltergeist," Artemis told them. "He's agreed to hand it over in exchange for a 'mischief masterpiece'."

"What's a mischief masterpiece?" Barnaby asked.

"That's what I want you lot to help me figure out."

The others were quiet for a while, and then Tulip and Tonks started speaking at once.

"We need it to be bold, grand, spectacular."

"Somewhere where there's going to be a lot of people to notice it."

"Yeah, and it has to be dangerous."

"And clever. Unique. We can't just do what other people have done," Tulip paused, and nodded slowly. "What about a new spell? My friend Badeea is excellent at inventing new spells."

"A spell for what, though?" asked Artemis.

"Something that can't be missed," Tonks said, helping herself to a sandwich from a large plate being carried past them by two house elves. "Loud, flashy. You know?"

"Like fireworks?"

"Not exactly unique, is it? I mean, we did that in second year."

"What about shooting stars?" suggested Tulip. "They're like fireworks, but more dangerous, and no one has ever done those before."

"I know a spell to reverse magical weather if they get out of hand, too," Artemis nodded. "It just means we need to find a way of getting lots of people outside to see them."

"That's easy," said Tonks. "There's two Quidditch matches left of the season, just do it during one of those."

"And we should release some ever bashing boomerangs into the stands, too," Tulip added. The others stared at her, and she smirked. "What? The more chaos, the better."

Tonks grinned and high-fived Tulip, and beside her, Artemis felt Barnaby shrink back from the pair of them.

"I can smuggle you in some boomerangs," offered Jae. "And help release them. Between us we've got all four house stands covered. Which match do you want them for?"

"Let's go for the Gryffindor-Slytherin match. It's sooner, and I won't be able to help set all this up, not if I'm playing in the game."

"And you don't want to ruin your broomstick," said Barnaby, nodding sagely. Artemis shook her head.

"Tonks' broomstick, you mean," she said, and Barnaby tilted his head to one side, frowning.

"Why would you ruin Tonks's broomstick?"

"Because," Tonks fixed Barnaby with a disbelieving stare that made his frown deepen, "Artemis will be borrowing my broomstick like she always does, remember?"

Barnaby still looked confused, and so Artemis squeezed his hand reassuringly before turning back to the others.

"Looks like we've got work to do," she said, smiling brightly.