The first of Bagsy's exams was the final assessment of her Herbology project. The lesson began with hushed whispers and conspiratorial insights when it was discovered that the clostra boab Teresa and Neve had been working on, a tree that was second largest in the class after Bagsy and Arice's, had vanished. Only a large crater was left in the ground where their herbology project had once stood. Teresa was fuming, ranting about how unfair it was all her possessions constantly went missing, while Neve looked close to tears. Comforting them, Professor Wattleseed explained that he remembered how good their tree had looked, and not to worry as he'd pass them regardless.

Everyone else in the class, whose trees hadn't vanished, had managed to grow a clostra boab at least as tall as a small child. Some were a light yellow in colour, as no bark had formed, whereas others were a dark bronze and shimmered like oversized beads in the summer sun. Bagsy and Arice's clostra boab, though it felt more like Bagsy's seeing as Arice hadn't bothered working on it for a good while, stood at nearly ten feet tall. When Wattleseed's magic tape measure wound itself around the tree and ran its analysis, it turned out it was eight feet wide – by far the largest of the entire class.

When it came time to test the durability of the trees, Wattleseed lugged a large container of dangerous looking weapons and substances over and began attacking the trees. Amazingly, even the palest coloured, smallest clostra boabs only took dents from his fearsome three-pronged chainsaws, acid potions, and arm-length needles. Bagsy's boab didn't show the slightest hint of a scratch as a result of his terrifying onslaught.

Professor Wattleseed tried his hardest and by the time he was done was sweating and breathing heavily, looking at the tree in defeat. 'That is one tough tree,' he relented, leaning against the flaming pitch-fork he'd been trying to skewer it with. 'I think that's the toughest clostra boab I've ever encountered. Well done Bagsy and Arice.'

Bagsy gave her clostra boab a friendly pat. She could certainly see how it could be used as a prison – there were four small lines, barely noticeable, in its side that indicated an opening leading to the hollow inside. Once inside, Bagsy was certain she wouldn't be able to get out unless the tree wanted her to.

'I can confirm that everyone has passed, though your precise result will have to wait to be released with the rest of them at the end of the year. Everyone give yourselves a pat on the back, you should be proud!' Wattleseed said, 'I hereby announce this exchange programme with Quolldron College a success!' he thrust his fist triumphantly into the air, smiling widely and looking very enthusiastic indeed.

Teresa cast Arice and Bagsy's boab a jealous look as she and Neve set back off towards the castle. Winifred, on the other hand, looked pleased with herself – her clostra boab had turned out a beautiful auburn colour with a glossy finish and, unlike Teresa's, hadn't disappeared into thin air. Wattleseed's antics had only caused small damage to it, as well.

'Miss Beetlehorn, Mr Allthorn,' Wattleseed called as Bagsy and Arice turned to leave.

Bagsy glanced at Arice nervously before walking over to Wattleseed. 'Yes, Professor?'

'I always like to congratulate those who come top of the class,' he explained, 'but seeing as it's been you three years running, Bagsy, I thought I'd say it in private to avoid any animosity between you and your peers.'

'Oh!' Bagsy started. 'Thank you, I appreciate that, professor.'

'Well done to you too, Arice,' Wattleseed added with a pleasant smile at him.

Arice grimaced. 'In truth, sir, I didn't really do anything.'

Bagsy looked at him uncertainly.

Wattleseed quirked an eyebrow, straightening his square glasses in interest. 'Oh?'

'It's been mainly Bagsy who understood what to do, and explained it all to me,' Arice said. 'And for the lessons this term I've done nothing at all out of…' he faltered. 'Out of laziness, sir.'

'I see…' Wattleseed crossed his arms and thought deeply. 'The other reason I wanted to speak to you two alone was because I had a special reward for those who came top of the class this year. I take it I should only be rewarding Bagsy, Mr Allthorn?'

Arice looked crestfallen, but he'd already admitted to his slacking so Bagsy guessed he didn't have much of a choice but to hang his head and agree, which he did.

Wattleseed murmured, 'Well, then, I'll just say this to you, Bagsy. Keep an eye on your mail this Summer holiday. I'll be in contact to let you know what your reward is in due time. Just know it's something to be very excited for.'

'Thank you, professor,' Bagsy said politely, before moving away from the situation, feeling very confused. She couldn't understand why Arice had done that. She didn't have to wait long for her answer.

'Bagsy!' Arice called, catching up to her. Bagsy stopped and looked at him silently, clasping her hands tightly together. 'I wanted to apologise.' Eyes narrowed, Bagsy continued to stare at him. 'Mezrielda spoke with me,' Arice elaborated. 'Even though she was terrifying, she said a couple of things I kind of agreed with. I… was being a bit of a prat, really, and… I'm sorry.'

Bagsy let her shoulders relax. 'You mean it?'

'Yeah.'

'What did she say that changed your mind?'

Arice, taking it that he'd been forgiven, let out a breath and started walking back towards the castle. Bagsy moved along with him. 'She said that if you do something nice expecting something in return then it isn't nice at all.'

Bagsy shrugged, not sure what to say. She was happy he'd apologised, but that didn't mean she knew what to do now.

Arice continued, 'Anyway, if it's alright with you, I'd like to try being friends again.'

It hit Bagsy exactly what she needed to say. 'Just friends,' she affirmed, forcing herself to be honest. She owed Arice that much. Misleading him was something she wanted to avoid, and it wasn't fair to hide from him anymore.

Arice shook his head in disappointment. 'No, Bagsy,' he tutted, putting his hands on his hips and puffing up his chest. Bagsy braced for the worst. 'It's not just friends, because that implies the status of friendship as lesser.' He paused, deflating a bit. 'I stole that line from Mezrielda,' he admitted.

Bagsy beamed, her momentary fear subsiding. 'Well, I appreciate it.' She'd have to thank Mezrielda later for this – now she'd no longer have to duck and hide when she saw Arice in the corridors.

The exams passed Bagsy like the obstacles on the Thaumathletics course – far too quickly, so that her body barely had time to respond to them. Before she knew it, she was facing down the eve of her Charms practical exam. Defence Against the Dark Arts had been horrific, as it ought to be when the student taking the test couldn't cast a single spell. As for Transfiguration, Professor Hilkins had dismissed her as soon as she'd walked into the testing room, explaining that she didn't need to waste their time if she didn't think she could do it. Bagsy, naturally, had instantly turned around and left. She knew she'd only embarrass herself.

How Professor Starrett would treat her in her Charms exam, Bagsy had no clue, but she was certain it would be something horrific.

'You look like my house's ghost,' Greenda commented one evening as Bagsy stared, dark bags stretched out below her eyes, at the pages of her Charms textbook. Her hornbeam wand was held limply in her hand, forgotten, as she imagined herself getting kicked out of Hogwarts by Professor Starrett. Maybe Starrett would orchestrate a way to get her locked up in Azkaban for her ineptitude.

'I probably feel like your house's ghost,' Bagsy muttered ruefully. 'Though, I bet your house's ghost could cast at least one spell when they were alive.'

'Oh, Bagsy,' Greenda breathed sympathetically. 'You still haven't managed to get a hang of magic, then?' Bagsy shook her head. 'Keep at it,' Greenda said, clenching her fists in determination and shooting her a confident smile. 'You'll have it in no time!'

'She's been at it for three years, now,' Emmeline pointed out from where she was sitting in her armchair by the fireplace, flipping through one of the Vampire Affairs books. Bagsy had noticed more students reading them recently – clearly Tomes and Scrolls' publicity strategies were working. 'If she was going to get a hang of it, she already would have.'

'Don't be rude!' Greenda gasped.

Emmeline tossed her perfect blonde curls over one of her shoulders and turned the page of her book, not bothering to look up. 'Not everyone can be good at everything. She should focus on her strengths and accept her weaknesses – we all have to do it eventually.'

Greenda tilted her head in thought. 'I don't see how she can do that when the exams are aimed at testing everything, including what you're weak at.'

Emmeline grumbled something, not bothering to continue the conversation. Bagsy had a feeling the only words Emmeline had left to say to Greenda would have started a fight. At least now she was choosing to hold her silence, instead of starting a spat. Greenda seemed similarly willing to leave the other one alone when they were approaching eruption. They may have mended some bridges, but they were far from being friends.

Greenda nudged Bagsy, distracting her from the section she had been re-reading for the past hour. 'Why not take a break and do something else?' she suggested.

Her will giving in for perhaps the first time in her life, Bagsy agreed, relenting from her studying and pulling out a letter writing set. She decided she may as well tell Griffin about Hufflepuff's placing in the school quidditch cup, and how well her clostra boab had turned out. She'd have preferred to write these things to Bontie, Bagsy realised angrily, but Bontie had decided to keep her only sister in the dark about what she was doing, and how to contact her.

Bagsy couldn't help but notice that, as she was writing, Greenda was leaning over her shoulder, spying what she was doing. 'Is something wrong?' Bagsy asked Greenda.

Greenda startled and laughed awkwardly. 'Nope! No, nothing at all.' Bagsy returned to her writing. 'It's just,' Greenda continued lightly, 'I couldn't help but notice that you're writing to a certain Griffin Southgate.'

'Yes?'

'Well, it's just that, that can't be right,' Greenda insisted. 'You see…' Greenda was laughing again, it was a strange kind of giggle. 'Griffin Southgate is only the keeper for the Rocketing Unicorns, the best quidditch team in the league right now, who are composed almost entirely by team members who grew up where I live – Middle Frogton.' For emphasis, Greenda flashed a red and white pin depicting a unicorn that was attached to her robes. 'I'm only they're biggest fan, you see.'

'Oh – yeah, he does play for them,' Bagsy confirmed. 'He said so to me a little while ago, if I remember correctly.' Bagsy also recalled Greenda being a huge fan. With everything going on in her life, she'd forgotten.

Greenda was as still as a wax statue, staring with wide eyes at Bagsy in a way that made her feel very uncomfortable.

Emmeline looked up with a sigh. 'Oh dear.'

'You… know…?' Greenda breathed out, the rest of her body remaining perfectly still, her glazed eyes starting to look through Bagsy instead of at her. 'Griffin… Southgate…?'

'Uh…' Bagsy trailed off, inching away from her. 'Yes?'

'Oh my stars!' Greenda burst out, suddenly all movement and exuberant expressions. 'You just have to introduce me to him, you have to! Did you know he's stopped ninety two percent of all goals sent his way when his team are ahead by forty points and their seeker is approaching the snitch? And did you know that-'

A deluge of facts about Griffin's particular skills fell over Bagsy like a waterfall, crushing her below its weight. 'No, uh,' Bagsy mumbled, as Greenda bravely forged on with her knowledge, 'I didn't know that. Um, no, I didn't know his favourite colour was green. He's missing a tooth? No, I had no idea…' Usually, Greenda's long talks were highly interesting to Bagsy, but she had to admit this felt a little less like interesting learning, and a lot more like obsession.

Out of nowhere, Emmeline had risen from her seat and settled down next to Greenda. 'Oi,' she said, jabbing Greenda in the side. 'Tell someone who actually wants to hear about this. If she knows Griffin well enough to be writing him letters, your creepy fan facts are only going to weird her out.' Greenda paused, looking downtrodden. 'Go on, then,' Emmeline added. Greenda looked at her uncertainly. Emmeline rolled her eyes. 'Don't you remember our first few years here? I actually enjoy listening to your dumb facts before... You know… Now get on with it before I change my mind and read more about Rose and her dishy vampire boyfriend.'

Greenda was clearly caught between her love for The Rocketing Unicorns and their keeper Griffin Southgate, and her mixed feelings for Emmeline. Eventually, her nerdiness won out, and she was telling Emmeline all about last year's match against the Winged Wallabies.

Taking her chance, Bagsy finished her letter and set off for the owlery. Just as she was leaving the common room, she heard Greenda fetching her broom, intending to show Emmeline all the different signatures she had on it from her favourite players.

It was very hot outside and Bagsy almost instantly regretted not leaving her robe back in the common room. It was so filled with pockets and items that she worried she might cook alive from all the warmth it generated. As she began ascending the steps, she felt the shadow of Eldritch, her tawny owl, fall on her as she progressed. 'Hi, Eldritch,' she greeted pleasantly, as her soft-toy of an owl fluttered down and looked at her with his big, black eyes. 'How are you? You got any owl friends?' Eldritch clacked his beak happily and held his foot out to take her letter. 'That's good to hear,' Bagsy said, attaching the letter to his leg. Then, in the beginning of dusk, another shadow fell more completely over her. Slowly, with a sense of dread gripping her, Bagsy turned to look up at the imposing figure of Mr Mortem.

'Bagsyllia,' he said in his nasally voice, pushing his tiny spectacles up his tiny nose. 'I think you should come with me.'

With a gulp, Bagsy let go of Eldritch, who took off with a distrusting look at Mr Mortem before he left.

'Shouldn't my sister or parents be with me?' Bagsy asked in a sheepish voice. 'I don't mean to be rude,' she hastily added, when she saw anger creep onto Mr Mortem's face.

'I've come to find you precisely because of your sister. Please, come with me so we can talk somewhere more appropriate.'

With a glance around herself, Bagsy shifted from one foot to the other. 'I-I don't know,' she stammered. 'Bontie said-'

Mr Mortem knelt down in front of her, his eyebrows tilting upwards and his gaze softening. Bagsy felt horrified as she recognised sympathy on his face. The world around them seemed to warp, like it was a malfunctioning moving picture. All Bagsy could focus on was the look of pity and sadness on Mortem's face – an expression she'd never see him show a hint of before.

Bagsy's mouth went dry. 'My sister-'

'There's been an accident,' Mortem cut over her. 'The Ministry don't want me to tell you, but you ought to know, so I ignored them. Some things are more important than protocol. Please come with me, Bagsy. I can't explain somewhere so easily eavesdropped. I'm putting my neck on the line for you here.'

Nodding numbly, Bagsy allowed him to lead her back inside, and to a quiet room. He pulled a chair out for her and summoned a hot chocolate to help comfort her nerves. Bagsy, however, was too busy thinking about her sister. For some reason, her mind had brought the image of Cora back, only now it was Bontie being crushed beneath the rubble instead, just as Bagsy had envisioned at the start of the year. She found herself shivering uncontrollably and hugged herself as a feeling of cold harshly invaded her body. She certainly didn't feel like drinking any hot chocolate in that moment.

Mortem retrieved a piece of paper from his jacket and scanned it. 'I'll keep things simple for you. Firstly, I hereby give you permission to ask me any questions you wish. I will even generously accept the occasional interruption, given the situation. Do you understand?' Bagsy couldn't move or speak. All she saw was the mangled body of her sister in her mind. What was this accident that had happened? How was her sister involved? 'Good,' Mortem accepted her silence. 'To put it bluntly, Bagsyllia, your sister is dead.'

It was like all sound, taste, smell and touch shut off like a light switch, and Bagsy was plunged into absolute nothingness. Like the ground had fallen away below her feat, like gravity had disappeared, like there was only ice in her veins where a second before there had been blood. She made no movements, she made no response, she found herself unable to breathe.

Mr Mortem continued. 'I feel you have a right to know why she died.' His tone shifted as he spoke, hints of accusation rolling of his tongue. 'Your sister was part of an elite group of Ministry officials tasked with locating and bringing in wild inferno. If you remember my warning at the start of the year, inferno are highly dangerous creatures who try to blend in with our society, intending to cause as much harm and chaos as possible before they are discovered.' Mr Mortem sat back in his seat, tapping a finger on the table as if he was growing impatient. 'The Ministry is in desperate need of inferno at this time. We have no intentions of harming them, only running a few minimal tests. Far more lenience than they are owed, frankly. Inferno in the wild are violent things that refuse to co-operate. Bringing them in is dangerous. There was reason to believe two tame inferno were hidden amongst the students at this school, and we had hoped to be able to identify and bring them in peacefully. Unlike their wild counter parts, they're unlikely to try and kill hardworking Ministry officials. However…' Mr Mortem leant forward in his seat, the tapping of his finger ceasing. With it, the noises, smells, feelings and sights around Bagsy crashed back around her like a shock of electricity. She looked up at him as the news began to settle around her like dust after an earthquake. 'The required evidence for us to legally bring those two infernos in, given they are mere children and unconfirmed inferno, was impossible to collect as, for some unexplained reason, they did not present the signs of being inferno when tested. As such, the Ministry had to resort to other methods of bringing inferno in – tracking down and containing wild inferno who want nothing more than to see the world burn. This included the team your sister was placed on. You see…' Mr Mortem stood up now, pacing around the small classroom. 'Inferno in the wild fight dirty, cruelly, and are unpredictable. They burn any and all things that stand in their way; and that's exactly what they did to your sister.'

'No-' Bagsy choked out, her hands flying to her mouth as horror settled into her bones. She no longer saw her sister being crushed in her mind but, instead, being burnt alive. She found a wetness on her cheeks, realising dimly she was crying.

'It really is a shame,' Mr Mortem tutted, moving to Bagsy and leaning over her and placing a hand on the back of her chair. 'If only we could have taken the two young inferno in this school in, all of this could have been avoided, the Ministry wouldn't have had to resort to the more dangerous method but alas, some people don't take the law seriously enough.' With that, Bagsy cracked, spluttering and cursing and sobbing into her hands, her entire body shuddering in shock. 'Your sister is gone,' Mortem said darkly, resting a firm hand on Bagsy's shoulder, 'but other people are still out there searching for inferno, risking their lives, Bagsyllia. People with friends, families.' Mr Mortem crouched down and pulled Bagsy's hands away from her face. 'People with little sisters.'

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean for-'

'Ssh, ssh…' Mr Mortem said gently, wiping a tear off of Bagsy's cheek and tucking her hair behind her ear. 'No one ever means to, do they?'

Bagsy was unable to talk. She wasn't even sure what she was doing anymore, if she was crying, thrashing about, or sitting stock still. Mortem tried to offer her the hot chocolate again but Bagsy had no understanding of anything in that moment. He even pushed the cup up to her lips, but in a fit of confusion and fear Bagsy pushed it away, glancing frantically around like an animal caught in a bear trap.

In the end, Mr Mortem gave up and took her to her to the infirmary, a grim expression on his face.

'Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear,' Nurse Jones muttered over and over again when he saw Bagsy. He was shorter than Bagsy now, and fussed around her with small, jittering movements, placing different coloured wires to her arms, legs and back to see what was wrong with her.

'Something to calm her down. Quickly,' Mr Mortem ordered impatiently. 'And then you are to vacate the room and lock it – I must speak with her alone once she's recovered her sensibilities.'

In a blur of colours and sounds, Bagsy found herself sitting on a soft bed with something warm pressed against the side of her arm. She glanced down and saw a strange triangular shape floating next to her skin. It pulsed comfortingly, sending calming waves through her panicking body. She looked around, her eyes sore and red, and found Mr Mortem standing by the side of her bed.

With a click, she heard the infirmary door look, and Nurse Jones muttering, 'Must fetch… must fetch…' to himself as he scuttled away.

'It's only been a few moments,' Mr Mortem informed her. 'You weren't handling the news well. Young girls rarely do, with their fragile sensibilities. I should have expected as much. Do you understand now, Bagsyllia? If you testify who the inferno are you will be saving lives. If you don't, you will be dooming them, just as you doomed your sister.'

Bagsy looked down at her lap, misery swamping around her. She was the reason her sister was dead, and if she didn't say something, more would be hurt. 'They call themselves phoenix bornes. Winifred and Robin, it's them,' she said softly, closing her eyes tightly as she spoke. The Ministry just wanted to conduct a few tests on them, she told herself. Mr Mortem sat on a stool next to the bed, holding something out towards her face as she testified. 'I think… I think they're the inferno you keep talking about.'

'Why do you think that?' Mr Mortem pushed eagerly. Bagsy flinched, feeling tears fall down her cheeks again. Mortem's tone instantly shifted – kinder, gentler. 'Perhaps some students here have family at risk. Out there, fighting inferno who aren't like Winifred and Robin, who won't spare their lives when cornered.'

'They… they have fire,' Bagsy forced herself to speak. She may not like Mr Mortem, but he was right; lives were at risk. Mortem worked for the Ministry, he was an adult, he knew what was going on, Bagsy had simply been playing at holding responsibilities when, in actuality, she'd been putting people in danger.

Starrett had tried to warn her about her wand training wheel, and she hadn't listened, instead taking blasts from the malfunctioning invention. She'd fed untested potions to Winifred and Robin, causing their fire to bottle up before it exploded uncontrollably out from them. Fitzsimmons had told her to be careful after her foolish delusions of grandeur had caused her to fall unconscious for five days straight and Bagsy had forsaken their words in favour of turning Primrose into a disfigured half-snake. She'd thought she had been smart, but she hadn't been.

She'd been putting her own sister in danger.

Oh merlin, Bontie was…

Bagsy wasn't able to say anymore after that. She didn't notice the commotion forming outside the infirmary until the doors burst open.

'Alohomora!' Professor Starrett's voice cried, the brown oak doors splintering off their hinges with the furious force of the spell. Through the ashes of her destruction, Starrett stormed into the space like a dragon disturbed from its slumber. Her nostrils flared, and her wand was pointed directly at Mr Mortem. 'I only just received this,' Starrett spat, throwing a letter to the floor at Mr Mortem's feet, 'yet according to Nurse Jones you've been here ten minutes. You aren't allowed to set off towards Hogwarts for inspection until the warning letter reaches us, and the last time I checked the Ministry for Magic was an hour away, not minus ten minutes.'

'Maybe we're stationed closer than you realised, you buffoon,' Mortem spat back, before holding a small pebble up in front of Starrett's face. He pressed it with a finger. The stone shifted into the shape of a young girl's face and Bagsy's own voice played out of it.

'Winifred and Robin. It's them. I think… think they're the inferno you keep talking about.'

'She's finally done the right thing, Emese.' Mortem smiled triumphantly at her.

Starrett's face paled. She breathed in surprise, before turning abruptly in Bagsy's direction as if she'd just realised she was there. Shame and guilt crawled up Bagsy's back. What had she done? For a moment there was regret; her sister was dead, and the Ministry were going to take Winifred and Robin on her testimony. Even if it was to protect more lives, Bagsy still felt guilt swarming unbearably within her. The shame was so intense that, with a snap, it changed, and her mind latched onto the only other place she could put the blame besides herself.

Winifred and Robin. If they'd just told their parents what had happened, and stayed away from Hogwarts, Bagsy wouldn't have her sister's blood on her hands. If they'd just given themselves in, Bontie wouldn't be dead. Why did they have to be so selfish as to put themselves above everyone else? Had they been ignorant like Bagsy, and not realised the consequences their foolish actions would cause, or had they simply not cared? Maybe they'd been laughing behind Bagsy's back the entire time. Maybe they were just like Cora – they seemed to care about her, they seemed to be on her side, but really they were her enemies. She'd been stupid to trust them.

Her mind fought back against the idea. She saw Winifred and Robin cheering her on during her quidditch match, or Winifred and her Ravenclaw buddies standing up to Primrose for her. She knew, deep down, that they weren't responsible. But the reasoning was squashed below the realisation that if it wasn't Winifred and Robin's fault, that only left her own shoulders to rest the blame upon.

With a feeling of dread gripping her, Bagsy decided she'd made the same, foolish mistake twice. First, she'd trusted Cora, and inadvertently helped her put Mezrielda in a life-threatening situation. Now, she'd helped Winifred and Robin, and helped them cause the death of her sister. Ugly rage boiled inside of her as she diverted her emotions away from herself, laying their target upon the phoenix borne sisters.

A moth fluttered into the room, and in the next second it had grown, with a cloud of dust, into Professor Fitzsimmons. 'Hagas,' Fitzsimmons greeted Mr Mortem seriously. Starrett turned furiously to Fitzsimmons, as if about to say something. Fitzsimmons held up a hand to keep her silent, and then turned their large eyes on Mortem. 'I think we should discuss this in private.'

'I think not,' Mortem disagreed. 'I have two students the inferno conscription demands I take in.'

Starrett levelled her wand up and towards him. 'Over my dead body,' she hissed.

Mortem sighed. 'I hate to do this,' he muttered, and then pulled out his own wand, 'but if you resist you will be obstructing Ministry business. By all means, I'll be happy to reunite you with your sister in Azkaban. I have been trying to arrest you for so long.'

'You know you can't best me,' Starrett growled darkly, and the flash of fear in Mr Mortem's eyes seemed to confirm her statement.

'Emese,' Fitzsimmons murmured gently, reaching their hand out and forcing Starrett's wand down. 'That's not how we handle things.'

'He must have set off before we received the inspection notice,' Starrett hissed in protest. 'He shouldn't be here!'

'I assure you I follow all regulations and protocol,' Mortem insisted.

Fitzsimmons cast a disparaging look at Morten. 'So, my suspicious are correct. I had hoped the Ministry wouldn't do such a thing without my permission, and yet it has.'

Mortem frowned at that, as if he hadn't expected the cool, knowing response to his seemingly impossible statement.

'Emese, lower your wand,' Fitzsimmons repeated.

Starrett let out a harsh breath, her gaze an angry fire directed at Mr Mortem, who somehow resisted the urge to shrivel up and burn alive under it. With a snap, her wand was back at her side. Not pushing his luck, Mortem left the room quickly.

'What do we do?' Starrett asked Fitzsimmons.

'We need to find Winifred and Robin Ignis and we must hide them,' they responded far more calmly than felt appropriate. Seemingly forgetting about Bagsy, the two professors hurried from the room.

Feeling as if her body wasn't her own, Bagsy leapt out of bed, rage fuelling her movements now. She, too, would look for Winifred and Robin – but not to help them hide. With the thought that Bontie was dead pulsing painfully in her brain, Bagsy decided she'd helped Winifred and Robin more than enough already.