People had an odd habit of vacating the streets of Hogsmeade when it was raining. There was no reason for that, as the myth of Witches melting in the rain was, well, simply a Muggle stereotype, and most Magic folk had knowledge of at least one spell that would keep them from getting wet. Still, when the sky was not clear, there was apparently a need to be irrationally afraid of what was falling from it. Because of the lack of people on the road, the young woman found it rather hard to find a crowd to get lost in as she attempted to make her way into the Three Broomsticks Pub unnoticed.

Shrouded in a long cloak of black velvet with the hood pulled over to shield her raven curls from the rain, her dress of rich red and gold silk was covered, concealing her identity as a Courtesan. Now, there was nothing wrong with being a Courtesan, in fact, it was a position of high esteem in Magical society. By acting as mistress to the richest of men in the highest of power, the Courtesan was the one way that a Muggle Born woman could have as much influence as a Pureblood man. After all, it is a renowned historical fact that powerful men often rely more on their mistress then their officers for political advice.

The bells on the door tingled as she entered the pub and made her way over to the counter, where a pale and fragile young woman was standing, wiping off the counter with a grey rag.

"Penny," said the pale girl to the Courtesan, "You are completely soaked! Why didn't you charm your cloak?"

"I like the feel of the rain, Trina. You ought to know that by now, " Penelope said with a soft smile, removing her cloak and sitting down across from her friend. Upon removing her cloak, several patrons of the pub looked to her, and started muttering words of both admiration and displeasure, "Oh honestly," she whispered, "You would think they have never seen a Courtesan before!"

"This is the Three Broomsticks," Trina quipped, handing Penelope a glass of Merlot, "Most of these men would be willing to sell their mothers for a night with the Toast of Magic London!"

Penelope giggled, "What would I want with a bunch of mothers?"

"People to do your laundry, make you pie, and lecture you about wandering around in the cold?"

"Like you should be speaking of wandering around in the cold!" She teased, taking a sip of her wine, "After all, it was you who Remus found curled-up on a park bench the other night."

"I had to leave St.Mungo's," Trina's voice had suddenly switched from a friendly tone, to a haunted one, "I had to leave because they just cannot use people as experiments."

Penelope swallowed hard and decided to change the subject, "You know, it was Cedric who came urged me to re-open the Pentacle."

Trina stepped back at the mention of Cedric, her eyes going wide and her hand slipping off of the glass that she was cleaning, causing it to crash onto the floor, "You…you did not call on him, did you?"

"I called on him once, all those years ago after he had died. After that, I never had to call, he just came to me. No need to worry."

"Yes there is," Trina responded, kneeling down to start cleaning the mess, "You opened a porthole to the World Beyond. You are not supposed to combine the two. Chances are, he was fine with being dead, until you called him back, then he remembered what he had left behind. When people die, they are supposed to be dead, no matter how 'un-timely' their death may seem. Necromancy is illegal for a reason."

"He had a right to know how I felt," Penelope knew that Trina had a point, yet she still had to defend why she did what she had done, even if the reason seemed foolish, "I was sixteen and in love. I knew he always loved me, and right when I realised I loved him, it was too late. I had to tell him. It was something he had wished to know his whole life."

"And now he isn't sure where he belongs." She lowered her voice a bit, as not to scold the girl, "Penny, I'm sorry. I'm just worried, that's all. Cedric was always like a brother to me, and you like a sister. This cannot end well for either one of you."

'But he did mention that the Pentacle has to be restarted, well, come back into action, at least. He would come back even if I had not called him for that reason. The Pentacle is his legacy. The system here in Magic England has become very Caste. The Minister…has anyone actually seen him?"

"I worry about that, too," she picked-up the last of the glass, and threw it into a rubbish bin under the counter, "Just be careful with him. He may be a ghost, but he still feels things."

Both Penelope and Trina had graduated with their NEWTS area of study in Divinations. Penelope's main focus had been in the ways of the Tarot, while Trina's had been in dream divination. Of course, once they had graduated from Hogwarts, both became more gifted in Empathy…Trina for the living, and Penelope for the dead.

"I know he feels things," Penelope muttered in an almost annoyed fashion, finishing off her Merlot, "He was just looking to help us. After all, the Pentacle is the only thing he left behind, and it just as well died when Percy decided to kiss-up to the Ministry. But we can run it without him. Besides, turning us in would mean turning himself in, as well. He only knows about us since he used to be a member…a founding member, at that. He thinks he can just forget every part of who he was, when all people are truly made immortal by, is their reputation. "

"Percy has more than one trick up his sleeve." It was not hard to tell that Trina was speaking of this as a glance into the future, not as a simple guess. There was always a kind of dazed, blacked-out look in her eyes when she was Seeing.

"I..I wouldn't put it past him," she said softly, knowing that Trina only tended to see the more dangerous things that were to come, "So are you saying we are not to bring back the Pentacle at full force?"

"We should. But we have to make sure that the Ministry doesn't hear word of it. Of course, it's rather hard to keep secret and organization whose main goal is to let the dark secrets of the Ministry be known."

"It's damn near impossible for a Muggle Born to rise above Middle Class at the highest, yet the Ministry's greatest fear is a little group that wants equality for all?"

Trina laughed, 'I don't think the equality part is the problem, but more that we're willing to find out what's hidden, no matter what the price. Tell me, Penny, what happened to Viktor Drakon?"

Viktor Drakon had been once been the head of the Department of Illegal Magick until he used all the illegal artifacts he found, to serve the Death Eaters. Then, the Death Eaters had decided that Viktor was no longer of use to them, so he found himself wishing to be redeemed by the Ministry. However, such was not easy. So Drakon, who was a regular patron of Penelope, gave her the address where to find Severus Snape, who he said could be of use to the Pentacle. After explaining as to why, Penelope managed to get the old Hogwarts Potions master, and bring him back to the Headquarters of the Pentacle, which was located in a small loft above the Three Broomsticks. However, on the way back, Drakon stopped Penelope and told her to hand Snape over to him, as his idea was to turn Snape into the Ministry in order to get his standing back.

"I killed him," Penelope replied with a smirk that showed she was quite pleased with herself for having done that.

"You killed him…and you're smirking."

She rolled her eyes, "Listen, Snape swore his alligence to The Pentacle, and when someone does that, it means that we guard them with our life. He would have done the same for us. Drakon would have turned us all in. We'd be rotting in Azkaban right now. That, and he had hit me with an illegal curse, and it was done as a means of self-defense. I am not the type to go around Avada Kedarvering everyone who angers me just a little. I may have a knack for illegal books and practicing, but not for harming others for means other than defense. "

"I know that, Penny, and I would never accuse you of doing such a thing. However, you are a courtesan, and that means that you are a Muggle Born woman of influence. Just like with the Inquisition and Salem Witch Trials, people will do anything to condemn what they fear, and what they fear more than anything is someone they expect to have no say, to defy the rules they have set to make themselves seem stronger. You are a powerful woman, which is why you are a courtesan. For a Muggle Born woman, or any woman for that matter, to have such a combination of poise, charisma, beauty, and intelligence, is very rare. It is very rare, and every envied. So just please, be careful in all your actions."

Penelope placed her hand upon Trina's forearm, squeezing it affectionately, "You do not need to worry, Trina. I know the risks of my lifestyle run far deeper than a nasty glare than a woman passing me by on the streets. You are good to look out for me the way that you do. Most women would stop being my friend after I chose such a life."

"You know I have always lived vicariously through you, in one way or another. You do things I could only dream of. I think them, and you do them."

Penelope smiled, "And just look at you. You have been with Oliver for so many years now. You have true love and have life so neatly laid-out before you. I live vicariously through you, as well. It will be me who will be going to your wedding and helping you get into your lovely white gown…it's you who can wear white…"

"Don't be silly, you can too."

"But everyone knows I'm a 'Scarlet Woman'," she grinned, "…and I will be there to spoil all your children, since I won't have any of my own."

"You always looked forward to being a mother, though."

"I know. But I have come to accept that with this lifestyle, I never will. It's fine, though, I am very happy with my life. I have a lot of dreams, and I even if I never find 'true love', then I will just keep dreaming about when I will."

"Oh, you'll find love. Come on, just look at you. You're all tall and elegant." Trina was so tiny and slight, that Penelope, who stood only a few inches taller than her, seemed much taller and older due to her heels, demure manner of dress, and shapely figure.

"Tall? I tend to see eye-to-neck with most my clients." She laughed and placed her now dry robes back around her.

"Well, compared to me," she crinkled-up her nose, 'But then again, so are most people, "Are you taking off?"

"I must. I have to join some baron for an opera."

"Ooh! That sounds like fun."

"I hate opera." Penelope admitted, as she slid her gloves on to her delicate hands.

"So do I. I was just making you feel good about having to spend the night with some old man."

"I seriously think I have to staple the payment to the headboard in order to keep going," she said, making her way towards the door, 'Have a great night."

"Have great sex!"

Penelope stuck her tongue out at her friend, and then proceeded out the door of the pub.