The evening sky was grey, the turrets and pointed rooftops of Hogwarts castle cast in shadow by the ominous clouds, and the rain falling steadily on the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade Village. A cloaked wizard emerged from the Hog's Head Inn, his pale face and eyes half-hidden by his dark hood.

The wizard slipped around the corner of the inn and made his way through the maze of damp and darkened paths to an old building far up the hill, one with boarded windows and chipped paintwork, outside which a young woman - also hooded - was standing.

"Might be a bit scary for you, Miss," he said, and the woman turned to look at him. "You know, they say that it's the most haunted building in Britain."

"What are you doing here, Figden?" the woman replied, her voice and face terse. The wizard grinned.

"Guess again."

"I beg your pardon?"

The wizard who wasn't Figden screwed up his face, and his features grew more youthful. The witch tutted.

"Loken Burke," she muttered. "I should have known."

"Yes, you really should have. Come on, let's go in. I'm soaked."

With a glance over her shoulder, the young witch nodded. The door to the house was completely boarded over, but when Loken Burke tapped the boards in a rhythm with his wand, the two of them disappeared and reappeared inside.

The interior of the building was, if possible, even more dilapidated than the exterior. The wallpaper was browned and ripped, the furniture even more so, as if a great beast had been let loose within.

"You're late," a woman's imperious voice called out from down the hallway. "Burke, we have had words about this before."

"Of course, Madam Buckthorn," said Burke, following the woman's voice to a small sitting room, and bending down to kiss the hand of the grey-haired witch the voice belonged to. He gestured to the woman behind him. "I found a friend."

"I was wondering where you were, too, my dear."

"I'm afraid I that became distracted," came the reply from the younger witch, lowering her hood and bowing her head to the elder. "I was reading about the trial. I'm presuming that is why you called us here?"

"Actually," said Burke, before Madam Buckthorn had a chance to answer, "I called you here."

"You?"

"Anyone can call a meeting, love."

Burke winked at the young witch, who pursed her lips and took a seat on the remains of what had once been a sofa, next to a stout man with a rounded abdomen and pink, swollen nose. Against another wall stood a tall wizard, whose dark hair was lined with silver, leaning against the splintered mantelpiece.

"I come bearing good news." Burke's face split into a grin. "I unfortunately was unable to abduct the designated target."

"That's hardly good news."

"Ah, but I managed to get us something better. An Auror."

"An Auror?"

"Oh, yes. It means that the plan will differ somehow, but," Burke shrugged, "I think it will be easier to ingratiate myself with the Hexley girl this way. Win her trust. People trust Aurors, after all. And I will be able to find out some useful information."

"We don't need a change of plan, Burke," said Madam Buckthorn. "We have our plan. Once we have access to Azkaban, it will not be long until our circle is complete again. And then we just have the small issue of the Hexleys to contend with."

"All I'm saying is that it's good to have a back-up plan, and a way of getting information from the Hexley girl herself."

"We have both," the man by the fireplace sighed deeply. "As you know, my child will be returning to Hogwarts this year. I'd like to think I still have a modicum of control, after all these years."

"Of course, of course," Burke bowed his head. "But if by some unfortunate turn of events, Rakepick remains inside Azkaban, we are short a member, not to mention Jacob Hexley..."

"And that is why there is the spare. If the plan fails, we shall use the girl," Madam Buckthorn said, shortly. "And if necessary, we can find ourselves new recruits. If all goes to plan, we shall have one here tomorrow. By September, he shall be stationed at the school."

"At Hogwarts itself?"

"Indeed. Why the look of uncertainty, Burke?"

"Do you think that wise?"

"Why should it not be? He shall be a loyal servant, provided that he believes we are able to give him what he requires to alleviate his... condition. And, given his predicament, he shall be hidden in plain sight, not unlike yourself."

"I know, it's just that the last few times we had someone inside Hogwarts itself... Well..."

Burke looked across at the pot-bellied man, who conjured a hip flask and took a swig.

"In my defence," he said, his voice a little slurred, "I didn't realise that the boy would get stuck in the ice. And we modified his memories successfully enough, didn't we?"

"Yes, Topsy, but still, look at Rakepick, and-"

"I hope you aren't about to point your grubby fingers at me," the young witch crossed her arms over her chest. "I played my role spectacularly. Hexley never suspected a thing."

"Of course not, petal. You were astounding, you still astound me to this day," Burke muttered, and the witch tutted. "I'm just saying that being directly under Dumbledore's nose is risky."

"No riskier than infiltrating the Auror office," the dark-haired wizard said, sharply. "Alastor Moody-"

"No one listens to Moody. They all think he's crackers."

"Even so, Burke, you will need to focus on the task at hand," Madam Buckthorn sighed. "Now, I don't doubt that being in the Auror office will help you to gain the girl's trust somewhat, but we already have ways of getting information on her. If we want to have all choices available to us, the plot at the Ministry has to go to plan. Do I make myself very clear?"

"Clear as a crystal ball."

"Wonderful. Once you have done that, you can try and get closer to the spare. We will need her yet, one way or the other. And you are correct, having someone in the Auror office isn't a bad idea. Is that all you wanted to discuss?"

"That's all," Burke nodded. "I know how to contact you all if I need to."

"Indeed you do," the dark-haired wizard stood upright, and held out his hands. "Shall we?"

The group stood in a circle, palm to palm. They lifted their faces upwards, spoke in unison.

"We stand in a round. We shall be led through the darkness to the light. We shall be witness to the power within."

The group left the decrepit house one at a time, starting with Madam Buckthorn, who was followed by the dark-haired wizard. Before he left, he handed Burke a black quill.

"Your instructions," he said, quietly, and Burke mock-saluted him.

When it was Burke's turn to leave, he loitered by the fence outside, waiting for the young witch.

"What now, Loken?" she said, regarding him sceptically from beneath her already-raised hood.

"I thought you might like to go for a drink with me," he said, and her eyebrows knitted together. "You know, Hexley has been at the Three Broomsticks Inn all summer. The one who is not currently sitting inside a ministry cell, I mean."

"Of course. "

"Topsy told me."

"Well, he would know."

"I thought I'd go and take a look at her. See what I'm going to be up against."

"As much as I'd love to join you," the witch said, her voice laden with irony, "I'm afraid that I don't have the same luxury as you do when it comes to hiding in plain sight."

"Ah, never mind," Burke screwed up his face, and became unrecognisable. "Another time, perhaps."

"Loken."

"Yes?"

"Don't get too close."

"Don't you worry. Discretion is my middle name."

"No. I don't mean..." the hooded witch lowered her head, so that her hood obscured her face entirely. "Try not to get attached. She failed before, remember? That's why she's only the spare. And even if she wasn't, can you really trust any of the Hexleys?"

"No. But then, can any of us really be trusted?"

The young witch chuckled in response to Loken Burke's question. He inclined his head to her, wrapped his cloak around himself, and started to walk back through the village in the direction of the inn, ready to catch a glimpse of the now-infamous Artemis Hexley.

***

As for Artemis Hexley herself, she had taken a seat in the quietest corner of the inn she could find, though the bar was growing noisier by the minute as more and more witches and wizards - some of whom she recognised as regulars and many others she did not - came inside to escape the heavy rain that lashed against the sash windows. On the table in front of her lay a stack of papers, parchments, and a single postcard from Brazil.

The postcard was from Alanza, a foreign exchange student who had been housed in Artemis' dormitory for the months she had attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the second half of Artemis' sixth year at school. According to her postcard, Alanza had settled back in to her usual life in Brazil, in spite of ascertaining an injury from a Nogtail she had attempted to befriend on a walk through the rainforest.

The other letters were from some of Artemis' other, closer friends: the Weasley brothers, Charlie and Bill, the former of whom Artemis had spent two weekends visiting in the Westcountry over the course of the summer, and the latter of whom had just started a placement in northernmost Scandinavia as part of his training to become a professional Curse-Breaker; pretty and popular Penny Haywood, who was currently staying with her penpal Aurélie in Paris in order to complete a summer alchemy internship; mischievous Dora Tonks and Tulip Karasu, who had just come to the end of five days spent at Tonks' house terrorising her family and neighbours; and Chiara Lobosca, a werewolf who had grown a lot closer to Artemis after spending a week with with her and the other girls at Penny's family's holiday cottage in Cornwall during the previous new moon.

However, it was not her correspondence that currently held Artemis' attention, but the open newspaper that a punter had left behind, and that she was now reading intently. She had picked the paper up to read about the quarter finals of the Quidditch World Cup, but whilst flicking through it to find the sports pages, a different article had caught her attention altogether.

DATE SET FOR KHANNA MURDER TRIAL

Artemis had stopped scanning the pages abruptly, and turned her full focus to the article, her eyebrows furrowing deeply as she read.

A date has been officially set for the trial of Patricia Rakepick, former Head Curse-Breaker of Gringotts Bank and erstwhile Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Rakepick, who stands accused of the murder of sixteen-year-old Rowan Khanna on the grounds of Hogwarts School in late November of last year, was apprehended in April following a four-month search. Kingsley Shacklebolt of the Auror office had this to say on the upcoming court case:

"All that we can hope for now is that justice will be served to Madam Rakepick, and that this justice will be of comfort to Miss Khanna's loved ones."

Also on trial will be 26-year-old Jacob Hexley, who was taken into Auror custody the same night as Rakepick after being missing for almost nine years. Mr Hexley is accused of being involved with the criminal organisation 'R', of which Rakepick is suspected to be a member, and of playing a role in the death of his former classmate Duncan Ashe in the summer of 1981. Hexley, son of the late Unspeakable Leander Hexley, gained a status of mysterious notoriety ten years ago, following his and Ashe's doomed search for the legendary Cursed Vaults of Hogwarts School.

Rakepick and Hexley's trial will take place on the twenty-fourth of August. As for whether this will shed some much-needed light on the extent of Rakepick and Hexley's crimes, the organisation 'R', or Hogwarts' Vaults remains to be seen.

Finishing the article, Artemis closed her eyes and exhaled. She already knew the date of the trial, as she had been called to give evidence against Patricia Rakepick a week previously. This had not come as a surprise. Rowan Khanna had been - and always would be - Artemis' best friend, and she had been one of only three witnesses to Rowan's death at the hands of their former teacher. Artemis had given a statement previously to Mad-Eye Moody, one of the Aurors investigating the murder, and it was to be expected that she would have to give her testimony again now that the case was going to trial.

But though it was not unexpected, it was not a pleasant prospect either. Artemis was not looking forward to facing Rakepick again, nor reliving the events of the night Rowan had been killed, and that was without the knowledge that her brother Jacob would also be trialled for crimes that she knew he did not even commit, though she had no proof...

A sharp miaow from beside her pulled Artemis' thoughts away from the newspaper and the trial, and she looked up to see that her loyal cat Fergus had jumped up onto the table, his bottle green eyes fixed on the blonde-haired witch making her way across the crowded bar towards them: Madam Rosmerta, landlady of the Three Broomsticks Inn. Immediately, Artemis flicked the page of the newspaper over before Rosmerta could see what she was reading, and muttered her thanks to Fergus for his warning.

"What are you reading, love?" Rosmerta asked as she approached the table, raising one suspicious-looking eyebrow and resting her hand on the back of Artemis' chair.

"Nothing, really," replied Artemis, looking down at the article that was now on display. "So, there's this wizard here, his name is Shi... um, Shiri... Shiratori" - she avoided eye contact with Rosmerta and continued to scan the page - "and he's escaped from a prison... in Japan, apparently."

"And there I was thinking the only foreign affairs that interested you were the World Cup and Bill Weasley's Curse-Breaking missions," Rosmerta chuckled, and gave Artemis a knowing look as she settled on the chair next to her. "You know, love, reading about the trial isn't going to make you feel any better about it."

"Yeah. You keep saying so."

"Because you keep reading about it."

Artemis pursed her lips and exhaled through her nose, pushing the newspaper across the table and away from her.

"Is that why you came over here?" she asked. "To tell me to stop reading the newspaper?"

Rosmerta shook her head. "No, love. I came to tell you that you need to go to bed."

"But you've not called last orders yet!"

Other than spending a couple of weekends at the Weasleys' and a week in Cornwall with her girlfriends, Artemis and Fergus had been staying at the Three Broomsticks ever since the school year had ended in June. She enjoyed living with Rosmerta; after all, it was a great improvement on living with her mother - or rather, not with her mother, who had moved to America almost a year earlier - who had never really paid much attention to Artemis, especially not after her father's death and Jacob's disappearance.

Madam Rosmerta, unlike Sara Hexley, was caring and warm, and it had become somewhat of a routine for Artemis to change the station on the wireless and help Ros clear up the bar after the punters left for the night, giving the two of them (three, if one counted Fergus, which Artemis definitely did) a chance to catch up before going to bed.

But tonight, Rosmerta was adamant that she would sort out the inn alone.

"You have a big day tomorrow," she told Artemis, firmly but kindly. "You don't want to be tired for your first day of work experience."

Artemis sighed loudly. Between their sixth and seventh years of school, she and her classmates were being made to complete a fortnight's placement in a professional environment to prepare them for life after Hogwarts. At first, Artemis had revelled in the idea; she had her heart set on becoming a Curse-Breaker like Bill Weasley, and had immediately sent a letter to Gringotts Bank to request that she be allowed to go to Svalbard to spend three weeks with him there.

Unfortunately, Gringotts had declined her request, stating that their curse-breaking placements were unsuitable for school students, a sentiment with which Artemis did not agree in the slightest. Having spent the previous six years continuing her brother's search for Hogwarts' Cursed Vaults, she had already done more than her fair share of curse-breaking. Still, she had kept hold of the information about the Gringotts Curse-Breakers' training programme, including the details on how to apply, and had sent off a second request to the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Transportation. She may not get to visit Bill, but at least she was bound to travel somewhere interesting if she spent two weeks in the transport office.

"I'll bring a coffee to your room in the morning," Rosmerta continued, the note of finality in her voice making it clear that it would have been pointless to argue. Artemis tilted her head.

"Just coffee? Or will you bring me breakfast, too?" she asked, and Rosmerta chuckled.

"I'll bring you whatever you like, love. Free room service. Go on. Bed."

Artemis smiled, and with the promise of pumpkin marmalade on toast in the morning, packed up her letters and bade Rosmerta goodnight, winding her way through the crowded bar to get to her little room overlooking the village street, where the rain was still lashing down upon the cobbles.

***

Madam Rosmerta, as always, did exactly as she had promised. At sunrise, she knocked on Artemis' door, a levitating tray holding a pot of coffee and plate of toast following her into the room. The heavy rain of the night before had eased a little, though the sky outside was still grey and water still ran down the window panes.

The breakfast was welcomed far more than the hairbrush with which Rosmerta advanced on Artemis, but in spite of Artemis' protests, she found herself having her hair detangled and pulled back from her face by the landlady. With her mane of hair semi-tamed, a layer of mascara applied to her eyelashes, and dressed in a white collared blouse, Artemis found herself frowning at her reflection in the mirror.

"Do I have to dress like this every single day?" she asked Rosmerta, who was still vanishing the cat hair from her trousers.

"Maybe not, but you definitely want to look smart on your first day. Make a good impression."

"So tomorrow I can wear my normal clothes again?"

Rosmerta pursed her lips, but did not press the matter of Artemis' clothing further, instead busying herself with checking that Artemis had packed everything she needed in the yellow rucksack she usually used to carry her schoolbooks. Apparently satisfied that Artemis was ready, Ros led Artemis downstairs to the large fireplace in the main part of the inn.

"One last thing," she said, and held up Artemis' camera.

"Oh, yeah. I'll want that in case I get to go anywhere really interesting with the transport people," Artemis told her, reaching out to take the camera back from her. But Ros moved backwards and chuckled.

"Not so fast, love. It's my turn to take a photo."

"What of?"

"You," Ros' lips twitched. "Smile, Artemis."

Artemis didn't really understand why Rosmerta wanted to take a photo of her, but she did as she was told and smiled at the landlady, relieved when she saw the photograph appear out of the bottom and had the camera pressed back into her hands. This wasn't the first time that she had allowed a friend to use the camera Rosmerta had given her for her seventeenth birthday, and so far she had found that she was far more comfortable being the one holding the machine than the one in front of the lens.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

Having hugged both Rosmerta and Fergus goodbye, Artemis took a handful of powder from the mantelpiece and threw it into the hearth. The flames turned bright green and she stepped into them, feeling them tickle her bare forearms as she did.

"Diagon Alley!"

As she spoke her destination out loud, the flames flashed and rose high around her. As they died down, she saw that she was in another fireplace, in another bar. But this inn was taller and narrower than the Three Broomsticks, and Rosmerta had disappeared from beside the hearth. In her place stood a tall wizard with spectacles and thinning red hair and two teenagers her own age, a red-haired boy and a pink-haired girl.

"Wotcher, Artemis," said Dora Tonks, grabbing hold of Artemis' hand and pulling her out of the fireplace. "See you've gone for the smart look, too."

"See you haven't," Artemis muttered, eyeing Tonks' laddered tights sceptically.

"If I'm going to work for them, they'll have to accept me for who I am one day. That day might as well be today."

Artemis hummed in response and turned her gaze to Charlie Weasley, her other companion, who was not only wearing a shirt with a collar, but a tie as well. Seeing Artemis' gaze fall to his neck, he shrugged.

"Mum said I had to," he explained. "It really wasn't worth the argument."

"At least she didn't cut your hair."

"Believe me, she tried."

The older wizard accompanying Tonks and Charlie cleared his throat, and Artemis looked up to see that he was reading the time on his wristwatch.

"Not that it isn't lovely to see you again, Artemis," he said, "but we had really ought to get going. We still need to get to the visitors' entrance, and we don't want you all to be late."

"Thanks for taking us to the visitors' entrance, Mr Weasley," Artemis said to him, remembering what Rosmerta had told her about manners.

"Don't mention it, Artemis. I was having to take Charlie the long way anyway."

This was true. Although most of Artemis' friends would be Apparating directly to the visitors' entrance of the Ministry of Magic, she and Tonks had been too young to take their Apparition exam in March - not that Artemis had attended the lessons anyway - and would have to wait until the next school year to get their license. Poor Charlie, despite having turned seventeen the previous December, was also having to take his Apparition exam in the autumn, after a mishap during the March exam session caused him to fail the exam rather spectacularly, much to the distress of the elderly Muggle lady he had accidentally landed on top of when her got his final destination completely wrong.

As a result, the three of them were today making their way to the Ministry on foot, guided by Charlie's father, who worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office.

"Still," Artemis shrugged. "It is very kind of you to come with us."

"Well," Mr Weasley lowered his voice and leaned in towards Artemis conspiratorially. "If I'm completely honest, I am rather looking forward to taking the bus. Fascinating thing, you know, this Muggle transportation."

Artemis nodded politely as Mr Weasley rattled off a series of facts about the London transport system, which took him the duration of the bus journey from Soho to Whitehall, whilst Tonks struggled to stifle laughter and Charlie looked over apologetically at regular intervals. Once they had dismounted the bus and stepped out into the rain outside, Mr Weasley pointed them in the direction of a disused Muggle telephone box.

"You'll have to go in that way, I'm afraid," he told them. "I'll be taking the worker's entrance, but they will both go through to the same place, I expect. Enjoy your first day, all of you."

Charlie, Tonks, and Artemis thanked Mr Weasley once more, and together, they managed to squeeze uncomfortably into the telephone box, listening to the steady pattering of raindrops hitting its roof. Charlie picked up the phone and dialled the number written on the instructions they had been sent in advance. As he did, a cool clipped voice echoed through the box around them.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Wotcher," said Tonks, leaning across Artemis to take the receiver from Charlie and speaking directly into the middle part of it. "My name's Tonks, Dora Tonks, and this is Charlie Weasley and Artemis Hexley."

She held the receiver out to both Charlie and Artemis, raising her pink eyebrows expectantly.

"Um, hi," Charlie said dubiously, and Tonks took back the receiver once more.

"We're here from Hogwarts for the Ministry's summer internship scheme. Reckon you can-"

"Thank you," said the voice, interrupting Tonks without any emotion. "Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes."

There was a clunk and a clatter from underneath the receiver, and Artemis crouched down to see what had made the noise. From a metal chute, three badges had appeared. She picked them up and turned one over, reading what was written on it.

ARTEMIS HEXLEY - WORK EXPERIENCE

"Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."

"Fantastic," Tonks replied to the voice. "So, are you going to tell us where this Atrium is, or what?"

The clipped voice did not respond. Instead, the floor of the telephone box dropped beneath them. Artemis felt a hand grab onto her arm as the three of them plummeted down, below the level of the rainy London street, but it was too dark to tell who the hand belonged to. Now below ground, there was no light at all in the telephone box, just the sensation of it descending and the soft grinding sound it made as it did so.

Suddenly, the telephone box stopped moving, and a single slither of bright golden light appeared on the floor at their feet, widening and rising upwards. Artemis raised a hand to her brow, shielding her eyes. They had arrived.

"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day."