The trial of Jacob Hexley and Patricia Rakepick was to be held in the courtrooms on the very lowest level of the Ministry of Magic. When the morning of the trial arrived, Artemis and Madam Rosmerta, who had closed the Three Broomsticks for the day in order to accompany her, met Kingsley Shacklebolt next to the fountain in the atrium before making their way down to the belly of the Ministry together.

"Level Nine," the cool voice of the lift announced, after a short descent from the atrium. "Department of Mysteries."

"The lift doesn't go any lower," said Kingsley, as the doors rattled open. "We will have to walk the rest of the way."

With Rosmerta's arm still wrapped around her shoulders, Artemis followed Kingsley down the corridor. She had not had any reason to visit the Department of Mysteries during her two weeks of work experience, and she was struck by the difference between the corridor she was now walking down compared to those of the higher levels. This corridor was bare, without any windows or doors, save for a single jet black door at the very end of it. Something about the door made Artemis shudder, though she was not certain why. She stared at it, and as she did, it opened to reveal a young witch with thick-rimmed glasses and curly dark hair pulled back into a bun.

"After you," said the woman, closing the door quickly and gesturing to a set of stairs on the left.

Madam Rosmerta's arm steering Artemis down the stairs prevented her from looking at the black door or the woman who had stepped out of it, but she could hear a fourth set of footsteps behind her as they descended to Level Ten, where the courtrooms were situated.

The courtroom itself was a large, high-ceilinged room with dark stone walls illuminated by torches. Rows of benches rose up on three sides, highest on the wall opposite the door, with people occupying seats on all sides.

"Spectators to the left, witnesses to the right," said a squat witch with a toad-like face and pastel pink robes, her high-pitched voice ringing like a shrill bell. "I'm afraid that the seats straight ahead are reserved for members of the Wizengamot and Council of Magical Law."

She said the word 'members' with a slight inflection that made it clear that she believed said members to be far more important than Artemis or either of her friends. Rosmerta pursed her lips before she hugged Artemis tightly and made her way to the benches on the left, leaving Kingsley to lead her across the courtroom to the right, past the rows of benches seating the members of the Wizengamot and Council of Magical Law, who were dressed in plum-coloured robes.

The witnesses' seats were mainly empty, aside from the two pale, drawn faces of Artemis' fellow students Merula Snyde and Ben Copper, sitting side-by-side on the front bench; the grubby features of Mr Borgin, who owned a disreputable shop in Knockturn Alley; and a wizard on the very back row, whose face was cast in such dark shadow that Artemis couldn't recognise his features save for a flash of his white beard.

"You okay?" she asked Ben as she sat down beside him. He shook his head silently, his lips pressed tightly together as if he was trying not to be sick. Artemis placed a hand on his forearm and squeezed it gently, before leaning across to Merula.

"Sod off, Hexley," Merula hissed, before Artemis had the chance to say anything.

"I just-"

"I said, sod off."

Artemis rolled her eyes and faced forward, just as the young witch from the Department of Mysteries made her way up the rows of benches to sit a few seats behind them. Artemis watched her, frowning. She didn't recognise the witch at all. Were more trials taking place than that of her brother and Rakepick?

She turned back to Kingsley to ask him, but found herself unable to say anything as she noticed yet another woman enter the courtroom and make her way over to the spectators' benches, dark hair half-covering her face as she walked to the very back row with her head lowered. Artemis' mouth went dry. Even with her half of her face obscured from view, she was able to recognise her own mother.

The pink-robed witch made her way to the Wizengamot benches and sat on the front row, holding a fluffy pink quill and parchment. A single wooden chair appeared in the centre of the room and the court fell silent, before a woman's voice - lower-pitched and far more resonant than that of the pink witch - began to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your attendance today," said the voice, which belonged to a grey-haired witch with a square jaw and a monocle in the middle of the front row of the Wizengamot benches. Her upright posture and level, authoritative voice reminded Artemis of Professor McGonagall. "Let us begin the proceedings. Criminal trial of the twenty-fourth of August 1990, pertaining to the offences of Jacob Odysseus Hexley of Camden, London, and Patricia Rakepick of Foulburn-in-Pendle, Lancashire. Interrogater-in-chief shall be myself, Madam Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Sitting beside me and acting in the role of court scribe is Madam Dolores Jane Umbridge, Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office." Beside Madam Bones, the pink-robed witch gave a tight-lipped smile. "Witness for the defence shall be..."

"Myself," said a familiar voice from behind Artemis, and she turned in her seat to see that the wizard in the back row was also on his feet. Now that he was no longer sitting in the shadows, she was clearly able to recognise the features of her headmaster. "Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. I won't bore all you dear people with my many titles and accolades."

Dumbledore gave a wry smile, and there were a few quiet chuckles from the benches around the courtroom. Madam Bones inclined her head and used her wand to cast a Patronus, that of a large silver-white owl. Across the courtroom from her, the door opened to reveal two Dementors flanking a handsome young wizard with messy dark hair and hazel eyes, his hands cuffed together at the wrist.

"You are Jacob Odysseus Hexley?" asked Madam Bones, and Jacob nodded his head. "For the benefit of the court scribe, the accused has indicated that he is indeed Jacob Hexley by the nodding of his head. Jacob Hexley, you are today accused of working for the criminal organisation that goes by the name of 'R' for two years between 1979 and 1990, and committing acts of crime in their name, notably multiple offenses under the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Magic, one of which resulted in the death of a wizard. You are also accused of failing to answer summons to provide evidence to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement during the winter of 1981. Today we shall hear evidence and pass judgement on you. Do you understand?"

Jacob nodded again.

"For the benefit of the court scribe, the accused has indicated by the nodding of his head that he understands the charges put against him. Professor Dumbledore, if you please."

Dumbledore walked down the steps to stand beside Jacob, his wand raised above his head and a shield-like Patronus swirling in the air above him. He bowed his head at Madam Bones and rested his free hand on the back of Jacob's chair.

"Professor Dumbledore, you are the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, are you not?"

Dumbledore inclined his head and smiled serenely.

"For the benefit of the court scribe, I am indicating my answer to be an affirmative with a nod of my head," he said, and there was another quiet round of chuckles. Madam Bones' lips twitched, but beside her, the court scribe's toad-like face darkened. "Furthermore, I admit to being headmaster of Hogwarts throughout Mr Hexley's formal education."

"How would you describe the accused as a student?"

"Intelligent, curious, conscientious, proud, charming, ambitious, bold - dare I say it? - a little too bold at times," Dumbledore smiled again. "Altogether, rather brilliant. Without wanting to sound immodest, I would say that he was not unlike myself as a student."

"Rather brilliant," said Madam Bones, ignoring the titters around her. "And yet, Mr Hexley did not complete his formal education, did he?"

"No, he did not."

"Why not?"

"Mr Hexley was expelled shortly before his eighteenth birthday following a series of... unfortunate incidents."

"Would one such incident be the death of Mr Duncan Ashe?"

"It would," Professor Dumbledore inclined his head. "Mr Ashe and Mr Hexley were close friends during their time at Hogwarts. Mr Ashe was similarly bold and ambitious, and the two of them became embroiled in a quest during their time at Hogwarts."

"A quest?"

"A quest to discover the infamous Cursed Vaults."

There was a murmur that echoed around the courtroom. Madam Bones held Dumbledore's gaze silently as the murmur subsided.

"The Cursed Vaults are said to be a legend," she said, after the courtroom had fallen  silent.

"One only need read the Daily Prophet's articles about recent events at the school to know that this is not the case. The Cursed Vaults are real, as Mr Hexley and Mr Ashe discovered. Unfortunately, they are not the only ones to have discovered this over the years," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "The organisation that calls themselves 'R' has also made this discovery, far less innocently than two schoolboys."

The court scribe cleared her throat. "Hem hem," she said, smiling sweetly. "I'm afraid that it is the court who shall be deciding who is innocent today, Professor Dumbledore."

"Of course, my dear Madam Umbridge. A turn of phrase, nothing more."

"Professor Dumbledore, please tell us about the events surrounding Mr Ashe's death," said Madam Bones.

"Duncan Ashe was sadly killed in a tragic potioneering incident. The two boys were hoping to brew a potion that could be used to attack a creature guarding one of the Cursed Vaults. Evidence found at the scene indicated that powdered Erumpet Horn had been used, causing the potion to explode, with fatal damage to both Mr Ashe and the surrounding area. The story was corroborated by the ghost of Mr Ashe himself following the accident."

"If this was an accident, as you say," Madam Umbridge said, very carefully pronouncing the word 'accident', "how did Mr Hexley come to be expelled as the result thereof? Surely, his expulsion would indicate some degree of guilt in the matter?"

"Madam Umbridge, I must point out that you are here in the role of court scribe, not interrogator," Madam Bones told her. "However, the question stands. Why was Mr Hexley expelled?"

"Mr Ashe's death took place in June 1981," said Professor Dumbledore. "At that point, Mr Hexley was told under no uncertain terms that he must discontinue his search for the Cursed Vaults. Earlier in the year he had broken his wand in search of the Vaults, and been seen consorting with several unsavoury characters. This was his final warning; were he found to have anything else to do with the Cursed Vaults, he would be expelled."

"And he did not heed this warning?"

"He did not."

"So, it was your opinion that Mr Hexley's obsession with the Cursed Vaults made him a danger to his peers."

"I have said nothing of the sort. I told Mr Hexley what the consequences would be were he to be found investigating the Vaults, and he was later found to be investigating them. As headmaster, it is my unfortunate duty to be a disciplinarian, and as an honourable individual, it is my moral duty to keep to my word," Professor Dumbledore removed his hand from the back of Jacob's chair. "Mr Hexley showed great promise. His interest in the Cursed Vaults was unfortunate, yet understandable. Many very honourable witches and wizards of great intellect have pursued similar quests. It does not make them criminals."

"Perhaps not," said Madam Bones. "Thank you, Professor Dumbledore. We shall now be hearing from a Mr Borgin, of Knockturn Alley. Mr Borgin, if you please."

Professor Dumbledore stepped back as Mr Borgin took to the front of the court.

"Your full name and profession?"

"Tubal Borgin. I am the proprietor of Borgin and Burke's, a shop in Knockturn Alley. I deal in collectibles and antiques."

Beside Artemis, Kingsley made a quiet noise that sounded almost like he was clearing his throat. She turned to look at him and, seeing that his eyebrows were raised and lips pursed, had to stop herself from laughing. Borgin and Burke's sold many things, half of which were likely to be illegal and almost none of which she would class as either collectibles or antiques.

"Mr Borgin, it is my understanding that two known members of  the criminal organisation 'R' - namely Madam Patricia Rakepick and Mr Loken Burke - have, on several occasions, frequented your shop."

"That's right. Loki's the nephew of my former business partner, and Madam Rakepick used to come in a fair bit when she wasn't off somewhere with Gringotts," said Mr Borgin. He frowned suddenly, and added, "I didn't know that either of them were criminals at the time, mind you."

"He's lying," whispered Artemis.

"Oh, I know," Kingsley replied.

"You are not the one on trial today, Mr Borgin. What business did Madam Rakepick and Mr Burke have with you?"

"Sometimes they bought, er, antiques. Mainly, though, they used a cabinet."

Madam Bartholomew raised her eyebrows. "A cabinet?"

"Yes, a vanishing cabinet. One of pair, its partner can be found somewhere at Hogwarts school. They used it to carry messages between themselves and Jacob Hexley."

"Jacob Hexley? You are certain?"

"Very certain. I was under instructions not to read the messages, but I made a point of checking that they had sent through. I never deliberately read them, but there were a couple of times that I saw the ink shining through the parchment-"

"Another lie," Artemis breathed.

"- and I clearly could make out his name. And, what's more, Jacob Hexley used the vanishing cabinet himself just last year. Late November, maybe early December. Left a message in there."

"Has anyone tried to use the cabinet since then?"

"Only myself, doing my routine maintenance work. It's been out of order since February."

Artemis bit her lip and looked away from Mr Borgin. She knew exactly why his cabinet was out of order; she had damaged its partner terribly earlier in the year. She had done a pretty good job of trying to destroy it, she doubted that anyone would ever use it to send messages again.

"No one has used the cabinet since Jacob Hexley sent a message in November?" said Madam Bartholomew. "Not a single person?"

"Well, there was a response. Madam Rakepick collected it, said she was under orders from Hexley to pick up the message for him."

There was a round of murmurs through the courtroom, but Artemis barely took note of them. Her blood had run cold; she had been the one to send that letter to Jacob, detailing when and where she would be meeting him the night that she, Ben, and Merula had gone into the forest. The night that Rakepick had intercepted them. The night that she had killed Artemis' best friend.

"Did you report this at the time?"

"Er..."

"Never mind," Madam Bones tutted. "Why do you think Jacob Hexley sent Patricia Rakepick to collect his messages?"

"If I may interrupt," said Dumbledore, as Borgin opened his mouth to answer Madam Bones' question. "The only thing suggesting that Jacob Hexley asked Madam Rakepick to collect this message was her word. I would think it far more likely, given the nature of the events that transpired following this interaction" - Artemis shuddered involuntarily - "that Rakepick intercepted this message on her own volition."

Madam Umbridge piped up: "Unless, of course, Mr Hexley and Madam Rakepick worked together to-"

"There is no evidence that Jacob Hexley had any involvement in the death of Rowan Khanna, and nor is he on trial for such involvement," Dumbledore said finally.

"Indeed. We shall not ask further questions on this matter," Madam Bones cast a sideways glance at the court scribe, who did not look abashed in the slightest. "Mr Borgin, please return to the benches so that we may question our next witness." She glanced down at the parchment in front of her, and read the name, "Madam Green."

The young woman who had followed Artemis, Kingsley and Ros down the stairs from level nine rose to her feet and walked silently to the centre of the courtroom.

"What is your name?" asked Madam Bones.

"Olivia Mnemosyne Green."

"And your profession?"

"I'm an Unspeakable."

"And what does that role entail?"

"Well, I'm not really allowed to say. That's why we're called Unspeakables," Olivia Green said wryly, and there were a few titters from the witches and wizards watching the trial. Madam Bones' lips twitched, but she raised her eyebrows pointedly at Olivia Green, who bowed her head before continuing. "I work in the Department of Mysteries as a Oracler."

Madam Bones' eyebrows raised even higher. "You're a Seer?"

"An Oracler. I don't make prophecies, I analyse and keep records of them," explained Madam Green. "I'm afraid I cannot say more than that."

"I see. Or, I should say, I understand. Madam Green, please could you tell the court about your relationship with Mr Hexley?"

"I went to school with Jacob. We were friends. Both of us were interested in prophecy analysis, you see. We read Tycho Dodonus together in our first year."

"Very impressive. Was Mr Ashe part of your friendship group as well?"

"He was, but not until our second year. He was in Slytherin and had read about the legend of the Chamber of Secrets. He was determined to find it, and asked us to help, so we went looking together. We never found it, but whilst we were looking for that, we found out about the Cursed Vaults. We were having no luck with the Chamber of Secrets, so we thought we'd have a go at finding the Vaults instead," Madam Green said. She paused and swallowed. "At first, we weren't getting very far, but it was Jacob's idea to talk to the ghosts. One of the ghosts mentioned a charms professor named Fortinbras who had tried to find the Vaults in the nineteenth century, along with a group of talented students. We found a few books she had written, and that led us in the right direction. By the end of our third year, we thought we might know where one of the Vaults was."

"Did you find it?"

"Yes. We found it at the top of a staircase hidden by enchantments on the fifth floor of the castle. It was locked, but we were certain that it was the Cursed Vault. Over the summer, we decided to track down the other Vaults, but when we got back for our second year, Jacob decided that we shouldn't just try to find the Vaults, we should try and break the Curses, too. I was against it, but Duncan was for it, because he wanted to become a Curse-Breaker. So we did that."

Madam Bones frowned. "If you were against it, why do it?"

"We took a vote and it was two against one," Olivia Green said, as if that should have been obvious. "We always voted on these things, and always went with the majority."

"How diplomatic."

"Of course. We were a team, so whatever we did, we did together. At least, that's what I thought," Madam Green breathed. "I didn't realise at the time, but Jacob had been doing a lot of research into the Vaults himself. After we broke the first curse, he started trying to work with other people, as well. With the group Professor Fortinbras had set up all those years ago. He found that they were still a group, and that they were still active. He called them-"

"R?" Madam Bones asked, and Olivia Green nodded her head in response.

"Exactly. He said that they would help us to break the curses. I didn't trust them, but I was outvoted again."

"Why didn't you trust them?"

"They were too secretive. They wouldn't say who they were, or exactly what they were doing, or who was in charge of them. I didn't want to work with people like that."

Frowning, Artemis whispered to Kingsley, "But she's an Unspeakable..."

Kingsley glanced at Artemis with a knowing look in his eyes.

"Ironic, isn't it?" he murmured back.

"After Jacob's dad died," Olivia Green continued, "he became even more secretive, and even more adamant that we should be breaking the curses. It was like he was trying to distract himself from what had happened. He spent more time alone, and more time with just him and Duncan. By the time we were in our sixth year, they had started taking orders directly from R, said they were going to join them in their search. When we found out that there was a dragon in one of the Vaults, I said that it was too much. If R knew so much, let them break their own curses. It was too dangerous. I wasn't even of age. I wanted to stop, but-"

"You were outvoted?"

"Yes. But this time, I didn't go along with them. I just left. They never listened to me anyway."

"And so you managed to avoid Mr Ashe's fate," said Madam Bones. "Madam Green, one final question, if you please. Was Patricia Rakepick one of the members of R that Jacob Hexley contacted?"

"No."

Artemis' mouth dropped open, and she looked across at Kingsley, who had leaned forward in his seat, a curious look on his face. What was Madam Green talking about? Rakepick was a member of R. She had said so herself.

But Olivia Green wasn't done.

"Not at first," she continued. "Jacob found her separately. She was already a fairly well-known Curse-Breaker at that point, you see, so he wanted to get some advice. Probably she joined them after starting to search for the Vaults, like Jacob and Duncan did. I never had much to do with her. It was Jacob who always spoke to her."

"Thank you, Madam Green. No further questions," Madam Bones nodded her head at Olivia Green, who returned to the witness stands. The interrogator nodded to the court scribe, who stood up and passed her a pile of parchments. "Along with the testimony of Madam Green and Mr Borgin, I have here the transcripts of several interviews conducted in the later part of 1981. Mr Hexley was, in the summer of 1979, witnessed consorting with several persons of unsavoury reputation, including the Patricia Rakepick. He was further witnessed consorting with Madam Rakepick until the autumn of 1981, shortly before he disappeared."

"My dear Madam Bones," said Dumbledore, who had remained quiet throughout the testimonies of the other two witnesses, "Jacob Hexley is not on trial for talking to Patricia Rakepick, nor is talking to Patricia Rakepick a crime. Indeed, if it were, quite a few people in this courtroom might be trialled, myself included."

"Hem hem," said Madam Umbridge. "Jacob Hexley may not be accused of talking to Patricia Rakepick, but he is accused of working alongside her to commit criminal offences." Several members of the court began to whisper, and Artemis' stomach lurched uncomfortably as Umbridge continued, "According to the testimony of our last witness, he did willingly act under R's orders, and was planning to join the organisation."

"Ah," Dumbledore smiled. "The operative word in that sentence is planning. We have heard no evidence to suggest that Mr Hexley joined the ranks of R, nor that he knew the extent of their criminality at the time he was considering doing so." He glanced briefly at Jacob before adding, "Perhaps if Madam Bones - who is, after all, the chief interrogator in this case - were to question the defendant himself, he might be able to shed some light on the situation."

"An excellent idea," said Madam Bones, and she turned her attention fully towards Jacob. "Mr Hexley, the court has been presented with the evidence against you. Before we vote to reach our verdict, have you any words in your own defence?"

Artemis sat up straight in her seat. This was Jacob's chance to explain himself, to make everyone see that he had been innocent all along, that he did not deserve to be sent to Azkaban. She craned her neck as she looked at him, willing that he would speak bravely in his own defence.

Still sitting in the wooden chair in the centre of the room, Jacob swallowed hard. He raised his head, looked Madam Bones in the eye, and told her:

"No."

"No?" Madam Bones looked surprised. She wasn't the only one; there were hushed murmurs from all corners of the courtroom. "You have nothing to say to defend yourself?"

"I do not," said Jacob, calmly. "I am guilty of every offence laid at my feet. I willingly acted under the orders of R, wishing to become a member myself, fully aware of the illegality of this. I betrayed my friend Duncan-"

"Jacob, no!" Artemis spoke out loud without realising it.

"- Ashe to further my own ambitions," Jacob continued on, seeming to ignore Artemis' shout or the gasps from several onlookers. "His death wasn't an accident. It was orchestrated by the Cabal, and my involvement proved my loyalty to them and my dedication to their cause."

The murmurs around the courtroom grew louder still, and Artemis gripped the bench she was sitting on so hard her knuckles turned white. What was Jacob saying? This wasn't true. It couldn't be true. She willed Jacob to stop talking, but he did not stop.

"I was obsessed with the Cursed Vaults, and thought that the Cabal was my key to them. I went missing to evade capture, I trespassed on the grounds of Hogwarts School, and I endangered more lives. I see now the error of my ways, and I know that am fully deserving of whatever punishment the Wizengamot and Council of Magical Law see fit to give me."

As Jacob fell silent, Artemis found herself unable to speak. She stared at him, shaking her head, but he did not look at her. Instead, his eyes drifted in the opposite direction, towards the spectators' benches, where their mother sat with her eyes closed, stock still among the whispering and fidgeting crowd.

The court took a few moments to settle. As the noise and movement began to subside, Madam Bones cleared her throat.

"In that case, we shall vote," she said. "All those who find the defendant innocent?"

Not a single hand went up. Professor Dumbledore gave Jacob a look that Artemis couldn't read.

"And those who find him guilty?"

Artemis' heart beat faster and faster as, one by one, the Wizengamot and the Council of Magical Law raised their hands into the air. Madam Bones lowered her own, conjured a small hammer, and knocked it. The noise seemed to echo in Artemis' ears.

"Jacob Odysseus Hexley, you have been found guilty of all charges," said Madam Bones, her tone matter-of-fact. "As such, you will be sentenced to a minimum of fourteen years in Azkaban prison. Further to this, your internment will be dependent on assessment of your character and any other evidence that may come forth before this time."

The doors of the courtroom swung open, and Artemis watched helplessly as the Dementors escorted her brother away out of sight. She blinked, hard, as if doing so might make the scene in front of her not real, but nothing happened. Jacob had been taken away, cuffed and escorted by Dementors, as if he truly were a guilty man.