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Imogen took in her surroundings. Ahead of her was a narrow hallway shrouded in darkness, the only source of light coming from a doorway on the right. She jumped as a black cat hissed at her and arched its back as she entered the room, warning that it didn't want them in its territory.

"Don't mind her; she just doesn't like visitors."

Imogen looked around the gloomy sitting room and got the distinct impression that the cat wasn't the only one with a preference for being left alone. There wasn't anywhere obvious for visitors to sit. There was a tall hard-backed chair next to the fireplace. The indentations in the upholstery making it apparent that it was Hecketty's seat. There was a narrow sofa, just wide enough for two people to perch on, but one half of it was lost beneath a pile of worn and well-thumbed spell books, the other half now being kneaded very deliberately by an angry looking black cat; its tail swishing from side to side, beating against the sofa cushions and causing small puffs of dust to rise into the air.

Hecketty pushed past her two guests as though they weren't there and made her way across the room. "Come on in if you must," she snapped at them.

"It's very good of you to see us," Amelia began, but Hecketty cut her short.

"Don't waste time with that idle chatter. You've come here because you want to know about Constance." She took her seat by the fire and turned her beady eyes towards her two guests. "Come on in if you're going to. I don't have all day." She paused and sniffed the air. "Pear drops?" Her gaze settled on Amelia. "You really have no faith in me at all, do you?"

"It pays to be cautious. Imogen here isn't what you'd call au fait with the witches code, and it's terribly hard to replace non-magical staff at the best of times, let alone in the middle of term."

Imogen was certain that she had just been insulted, but couldn't prove it. Broomhead wafted them towards the sofa again.

"I don't think your cat wants company," Imogen offered as she caught the unmistakable sound of a low growl followed by a warning hiss.

Broomhead shot her a withering glance, waved a hand and the sofa promptly vanished. There was an alarming thud from the floor above, and a plaintive yowl from the cat.

Moments later, an even tattier sofa appeared in its place. This one was devoid of both books and cat. "Sit, sit," Hecketty instructed as though magically moving sofas around her cottage was something she did on a daily basis. After exchanging an uneasy look, Imogen and Amelia did as they were told. Imogen's hand closed over the arm of the sofa as though she feared it might take off without warning, like some out of control fairground ride. She'd never been very good with rides, or anything that caused her feet to leave the ground for long periods of time. One thing she definitely didn't need in her life was to lose the contents of her stomach all over her headmistress. Next to her Amelia fidgeted, and Imogen had the impression that the older witch was just as uncomfortable with the present situation as she was.

"You're here about Constance?" Broomhead nudged them back towards the reason for their visit. "I heard about the council sending an investigator out."

"She's gone." Amelia decided it was best to just get straight to the heart of the matter. That way there were fewer opportunities for Imogen to put her foot in it whilst they made polite conversation and danced around the real reason for their visit.

"Gone?"

"Vanished. Disappeared off without warning," Amelia elaborated. "I was wondering if you might know where she'd go…. Whether she might…"

"She would not entertain the idea of seeing any of that coven again!" The firmness in Broomhead's tone surprised Amelia somewhat.

"You seem very certain. Could it not be possible…"

"They were forbidden from ever having anything to do with one another again, lest you need reminding." Broomhead spat the words out. "I took the girl on when no-one else would deal with her, and I made sure she knew the consequences if she dared to cross that line again."

Amelia pressed her lips together and said nothing. Constance had already admitted to seeing one of their number; given the vitriolic response, it was one detail she didn't want to share with Broomhead.

"Mistress Buckweed seemed to think that Constance would rejoin them; implied that she might not have a choice in the matter." She paused. "You knew all the girls, didn't you?"

"I never knew what they were up to." The words fell from Hecketty's mouth like the lines of a well-rehearsed speech. "We encouraged the girls to band together. Friendships are so important for girls of that age."

"Do you know where any of them are now?"

"Besides Constance, the only one of their number I know the whereabouts of is Audrey, and she is in no position to help anyone."

Amelia chewed her lip, knowing that the words had been carefully chosen. The cunning old woman was making them ask for more help, making them ask her more and more questions. She was spoonfeeding them just enough information to keep them on the line.

"What happened to Audrey?" Imogen, it seemed, didn't care whether or not Hecketty was toying with them. In all probability she didn't appreciate just how manipulative the woman could be.

"Audrey has been a resident of Ash Vale these past twenty years." Hecketty sat back in her chair and folded her hands across her lap.

Imogen looked to Amelia for guidance. The name meant nothing to her, but judging by the way the other woman tensed, it certainly meant something to her.

"It's a sort of hospital," Amelia explained quietly.

There was a snort of derision from Hecketty. "Well, that's one way of putting it," she remarked. She turned her dark eyes towards Imogen. "As you can imagine, it would be most unwise to let those who have broken the codes serve their sentences alongside the non-magical." The last two words looked as though they left an unpleasant taste in Hecketty's mouth. "Many years ago the senior witches and wizards agreed that there should be a place of incarceration for those who were deemed too dangerous to be permitted their freedom."

"The place is more than that," Amelia was quick to counter. "There's no need to try and scare the poor woman."

"The complex also houses a hospital for those who are unable to control the magic that flows through them." Hecketty admitted. "That is where you'll find Audrey. I did try and talk to the staff, but they were unwilling or unable to explain her comatose state to me. Either she is kept sedated because the magic she touched is too strong for her to wield, or her own body went into shutdown to try and contain it."

"The magic she touched?" Imogen looked to Miss Cackle for guidance, but got nothing. It was an exchange that didn't escape Hecketty. She raised an eyebrow. "Keeping secrets from those around you Amelia?"

"It's not my story to tell," Amelia countered smoothly, determined not to let the manipulative old witch get under her skin. She watched the knowing shake of the head but refused to rise to it. "Is there nothing more you can tell me about that particular group of students?"

Hecketty's lip curled at one side in an approximation of a smile. "Oh there's plenty I could tell you, but nothing that would help you locate them."

"Anything you could tell me could be vital."

"Where there is one, the others will follow."

Amelia frowned; certain that she'd just missed something. "I'm sorry?"

"It's what they used to say… you never saw one member of that coven without one of the others being close by."

"But you said that Constance wouldn't…"

"She would steer clear of them. She knows what would happen if they were to be reunited. She knows what she would lose."

"You think the others are still connected?"

"Without a doubt."

Hecketty turned her attention towards the fireplace and the dying embers of an earlier fire and clicked her fingers. Immediately the fire roared into life; bright orange flames consuming the wood that lay in the grate. She held her hands out and warmed her gnarled fingers. "You need to find that group Miss Cackle. You need to find them before Constance does."

Imogen was about to protest that she'd been very deliberately left out of the sentence but then decided that she just didn't have the effort. The room was suddenly feeling too hot and close; the smoke from the fire catching in her throat. Her eyes felt impossibly heavy.

"Come on Imogen, it's time we were leaving."

Imogen blinked and looked around. For reasons she couldn't fully explain, she had the distinct impression she'd just missed something. She looked between Miss Cackle and Mistress Broomhead, but their expressions told her nothing. She rubbed at her eyes; the tiredness she'd felt only moments earlier lifting from her shoulders.

"I thought we were…" she tailed off as she struggled to remember what they had just been talking about.

"I think we've learnt everything here that we're going to," Amelia told her with a sharp edge to her voice. She rose to her feet and nodded in Broomhead's direction. "If you're sure that there's nothing else you can tell me…"

"I only wish that I could Miss Cackle, but I was only fully aware of that coven's actions after the fact."

"Very well. We'll carry on our own little hunt. Can I rely on you not to say anything…"

"Miss Cackle, the council will come calling because I took on the responsibility of tutoring that girl when no-one else wanted anything to do with her. I will not lie to them, but I will tell them what I told you. She is not the same person she was back then."

The world was revealed to her in stages. She first became aware of sounds around her. There were voices; they came and went. Sometimes hushed whispers, other times loud, angry exchanges. The words washed over her and she didn't have the ability to separate one from the other.

She was cold, and the wall against her back was rough and uneven. Those were solid tangible things and she clung to them as she waited for the rest of the world to fall back into place. A dull ache filled her head and she recalled the slightly bitter aftertaste of the tea she'd drunk. Her first suspicions had been correct; there was more to her meeting with Alice than a simple catching up on old times.

She slowly opened her eyes and tried to gauge her surroundings. The world was nothing more than a series of blurred outlines. She blinked, waiting for her eyes to regain focus.

"So you decided to rejoin us." It was a statement rather than a question. Constance concentrated her attention on the blurred outline that had uttered the words. It took longer than she liked, but the blur slowly resolved itself into sharper focus. Short, dark cropped hair framed an angular face. One that presently wore a sneering expression. The woman wore a suit that was at least one size too small, and heels that were too dainty for someone of her stature. Although she'd not seen her for a number of years, Constance immediately recognised her.

"Stephanie," she acknowledged the woman with a curt tone. "Perhaps you'd like to tell me what all this is in aid of." Her voice was not as strong as she would have liked, but with the way her stomach was churning, she was pleased that she was at least keeping her last meal in its proper place.

"Surprised to see me?"

"Where there is one, the others will follow," Constance intoned the phrase that had been oft repeated when they were young. Even without her usual sharp view of the world, she saw that her words had an impact. "You thought I would forget?"

"With the efforts you took to distance yourself from the rest of us, I wasn't sure what you'd remember."

"We were ordered to keep apart," Constance reminded her. "There is a difference."

"We share a bond. One that can never be broken."

"This is hardly a symbol of trust." Constance lifted her arms and indicated the rope that was bound tightly around her wrists. "Why the need for all this?"

"Trust has to be earned," Stephanie said as she picked at an invisible spec of dirt on her jacket. "It will do to keep your magic at bay until we are certain which side of the fence you are on. You can't sit on it forever Constance. You have to make a decision; to pick a side."

"What is all this about?" Constance tried to understand what was driving her former friend. "You, Alice….who else?"

Stephanie wagged a finger in her direction. "You'll know when the time is right."

"Audrey, Clara, Andrea?…" she paused, scanning Stephanie's face for some sort of reaction. "Eliza…. Eliza is here somewhere; isn't she?"

Stephanie's expression didn't change. Constance heard the sound of a door opening, and moments later Alice was at her side. She was chattering nervously away, and trying to help her to her feet. Constance shrugged her off as soon as she was able, and drew herself to her full height. She was slightly taller than her former school friends and she intended to use anything she had at her disposal to give her an advantage.

Stephanie indicated the chair that she should sit on, but she made no effort to move towards it.

"We can stand around all day, playing these pointless games or you can find out why we brought you here."

Alice was again flitting around at her side and she reluctantly let the woman guide her to the chair. She was shakier on her feet than she cared to admit, and given that she had no idea where she was, and what lay beyond the four walls of the room she was in, she decided that it was politic to play along. Alice poured water from a jug into a glass and pushed it into her hands. "This will help clear your head." She tucked a stray strand of blond hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry for …. For… for this. We weren't sure how you'd react."

"Alice!" The tone of Stephanie's voice carried a warning, and Alice duly backed away to the far side of the desk to stand beside her.

Constance took a slow sip of the water, her eyes fixed on the pair who were sat across from her; waiting for Stephanie to make the next move.

"So how long has it been?"

"If you'd wanted to organise a reunion; there are simpler ways to go about it," Constance told her dryly. "We both know exactly how long it has been."

"You never wrote, you never called…." Stephanie tailed off as she sat back in her chair, ignoring the way it creaked ominously. "It was like you suddenly stopped caring. Was that before or after you sold us all out?"

The question was designed to get a reaction, but Constance was determined to disappoint her. She stared at the one spot of wall in front of her that appeared to be in focus and willed her senses to come back up to full strength. Alice was no sort of threat; she never had been, she was still the same simple-minded idealist she had been at school, and by her own admission she no longer practised the craft. Stephanie….Stephanie was an entirely different prospect. The only things Constance could go on were impressions that stayed with her from school days. A lot could happen to a person in that time; it would be foolhardy to underestimate her. The others? Were any of them involved? She was sure she had heard more than two voices back in the shop, but she couldn't be certain. If she was here then she was certain that the others would have been summoned as well.

"Why now?"

"Why not?"

She scanned Stephanie's face; searching for some flicker of emotion; something she could try and exploit.

"I'm sure Constance just wants to work with us." Alice's voice broke across the silence that had been building in the room. "Surely we could…" Alice pushed further, but Stephanie was quick to shut her down."

"What? Have her turn us all over to the witches' council? Have her betray us all again?" She shook her head. "No. She stays as she is until we know a little more." Stephanie kept her attention fixed on Constance, a fake smile that carried no warmth fixed in place. "You don't mind now, do you Constance?"

"It is scarce worth asking the question, when I have no choice."