Chapter Text
It was early morning, and the sun had finally risen over Charcombe Regis. A little way out of the town, in the garden of a house perched on top of the cliffs overlooking the beach, a cat-eyed teenager stood barefoot on the dewy morning grass watching the waves crash against the shore, the sunlight reflecting off the water, her mane of dark hair being lifted by the sea breeze. Around her shoulders was draped the purring body of a marmalade-coloured cat, and at her feet a pair of terrier-like dogs were growling playfully at one another and wagging their forked tails.
This was one of Artemis Hexley’s favourite places: the beach and the cliffs that formed the backdrop to her great-aunt and uncle’s house. In the summer, the place was usually packed, however, this early in the morning, she was the only person around. Or, at least, she would be for now.
From the sky, a shadow descended, making its way down towards where Artemis was standing. She raised her gaze to the sky, and a grin spread across her face as the shadow quickly took the shape of a boy her own age, diving towards her on a broomstick, the August sun threading golden strands through his flaming red hair.
“Only you today?” Artemis asked Charlie Weasley, as he dismounted his broom and bent down to pat the two Crups that were bounding up to meet him.
Artemis and Charlie were in the same year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and now that they were friends, Charlie had become a regular visitor to Charcombe Regis over the past month. This was the first time he had visited alone, however, as he was usually accompanied by his older brother and Artemis’ friend, Bill.
“Only me,” Charlie shrugged, smiling up at Artemis. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“I’m not disappointed, just surprised,” Artemis frowned. “I thought you were still banned from flying by yourself.”
Earlier that summer, before the end of the school year, Artemis and Charlie had landed themselves in quite a lot of trouble after they flew into the Forbidden Forest to break into a Cursed Vault. Artemis had landed herself in detention indefinitely, and the headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, had written to both their parents. Sara Hexley, as indifferent to her daughter’s exploits as ever, hadn’t even opened the letter, as Artemis had found it still sealed in the kitchen when she returned home at the start of the holidays. Charlie’s mother, however, had been livid.
“Well, Mum’s finally forgiven me,” Charlie stood back up and walked over to Artemis, pulling something out of his pocket as he did. “Think it might have had something to do with this.”
He held his left hand out to her, palm up, revealing both an old Crup-bite scar and a red-and-gold badge. Artemis laughed, and reached into her own pocket, pulling out a similar badge of her own, though hers was yellow and black.
“Snap!” she said loudly, making Fergus the cat jump. She put the badge back into her pocket, and tilted her head. “Funny, I wouldn’t have thought they’d have made either of us prefects, not after the trouble we caused. Do you think they’ve forgotten?”
“No, they definitely haven’t,” Charlie shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Didn’t you read the last part of the equipment list? ‘First years aren’t allowed to bring their own broomsticks’... I think that’s definitely our fault.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Artemis sighed. “I thought for moment there I’d maybe gotten out of detention.”
“Doubtful.”
“I know, it was too good to be true. Your mum must be well chuffed, though, two prefects in the family.”
“Actually, it’s one prefect and a Head Boy,” Charlie told her.
“Bill’s Head Boy?”
“Oh, yeah. That’s hardly a surprise, he got twelve O.W.L.s, and five of them were Os.”
“I guess that is pretty impressive,” Artemis frowned. “So where is Bill, if he’s not here?”
“Cornwall.”
“Cornwall? What’s he doing in Cornwall?”
“Visiting Penny,” Charlie said, and he tilted his head at the confused look on Artemis’ face. “Artemis, you knew about this already, remember?”
“But I thought...” Artemis tried her hardest to make sense of what Charlie was telling her. “I thought you and Penny -”
“What?” Charlie’s face turned pink and his eyes widened. “No, that’s... why would you even think that?”
Thinking about it now, Artemis couldn’t think why she had thought that. It made much more sense this way.
“You know, I’m not really sure. I just did.”
Charlie laughed, his eyes on the ground.
“Well, I’m flattered that you even thought that might be a possibility,” he said, shaking his head. “But, no. Just... no.”
The more Artemis thought about it, the more she realised how wrong she had been, and she also started to laugh.
“Was it not a boring flight over here without company?” she asked, once she had gotten a hold of herself.
“Not really. I had this,” Charlie raised his eyebrows, and from his satchel produced a blue rectangular box, with what looked like a piece of string coming out of one corner. Further down the string, it bifurcated, and the two ends connected to either prong of a semi-circular object.
“What is that?”
“It’s called a Walking Man. Ben gave it to me, apparently loads of Muggles have them. Here, put this bit on your head.”
He held out the semi-circular piece and placed it on Artemis’ head like an Alice band. At the points of the semi-circle, squishy pads covered her ears. She frowned, and then Charlie pressed a button on the blue box, and music began to play. A smile spread across Artemis’ face. She loved music, especially Muggle music.
“I love this song!” she told Charlie, who flinched slightly, as if she had shouted at him. “What?”
Charlie smirked, and lifted one of the pads away from Artemis’ ear, making the music grow quieter.
“You’re shouting,” Charlie said. Artemis realised now that the music was softer that he was right, she had been talking much louder than she’d thought.
“How does that work without magic?”
“No idea. I’d ask my dad, but he’d take it apart to try and figure it out, and he’s not always good at putting Muggle things back together again.”
“You don’t want that,” said Artemis, and she placed both pads over her ears to listen to the song again, nodding along to the familiar melody. After a couple of lines, she removed the musical Muggle headband. “Charlie, what does ‘havering’ mean?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Charlie shrugged. “Maybe you could ask Skye Parkin, now that you’re joining the Quidditch team.”
“I said I’d think about it.”
“Yeah, but we both know that was a lie. You made up your mind the second she asked you.”
Artemis opened her mouth, and then closed it again. Charlie was right. Skye Parkin had been teaching Artemis to fly, and had invited her to be on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team at the end of the last school year. Artemis had been pleasantly surprised by how much she had enjoyed flying, and was sorely tempted by the prospect of playing on the team, even though she was going to not have much spare time to do so between her prefect duties, detention, revision for the O.W.L. exams, and searching for the remaining Cursed Vaults.
“I’m not criticising,” Charlie continued, clearly having seen the look on Artemis’ face. “I think it’s a great idea. Do you know what position you’ll be playing?”
“Skye didn’t say,” Artemis replied. “But I’ve been reading the copy of Quidditch Through the Ages that Rowan gave me for Christmas, and I like the sound of Chaser.”
“You don’t fancy Seeker, then?”
“Not really, they don’t do that much, do they?”
“Thank you for that, Artemis,” Charlie muttered. He played Seeker for the Gryffindor team.
“I just mean there’s a lot of waiting around for the Snitch.”
“I don’t just ‘wait around’, I’m actively looking for the Snitch.”
“Yeah, well,” Artemis said, giving up trying to dig herself out of the hole she had made for herself. “I still think I’d be better off as a Chaser.”
“Alright. Just don’t get too upset when we win the Quidditch Cup.”
“You might not get the chance to do that,” Artemis grinned. “Right, shall we walk these Crups before the beach gets busy or do you want to get breakfast first?”
“I don’t mind. I’ve already had breakfast, anyway.”
“Me too. Let’s walk first, then. Keep out of Aunt Tina’s way.”
“Why? What’s your uncle done this time?”
“Nothing, she’s just stressed out about packing,” Artemis replied to Charlie’s question, as they started to walk down the cliff path towards the pebbled beach below. “Not long to go now.”
“I guess not,” Charlie’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “You alright about it?”
“Yeah. They go away all the time, it’s just this time there’s no break in between trips.”
Artemis’ great-uncle was a reknowned Magizoologist, and he and her great-aunt often travelled overseas in search of creatures. This autumn they would be going on the biggest trip they had ever undertaken since Artemis could remember: a journey through the Americas, lasting over two years in total.
Charlie looked at Artemis in a questioning way as she answered him. She gave him a brief smile before looking away and speeding up as she made her way down the cliff path, walking in front of him so he wouldn’t be able to see her face. At the bottom of the cliff, where the path opened up into the shale of the beach, she picked up a piece of driftwood, and threw it towards the sea, both Crups chasing it into the waves.
“What’s going to happen to the animals while they’re away?” Charlie asked, standing by Artemis’ side once more.
“My uncle’s apprentice is staying at the house to keep an eye on the Kneazles,” Artemis told him. “I’ve written to Hagrid to ask if he’d be happy to take care of Scully and Dragon. They know Hagrid, and that way we can see them all the time.”
“Good idea. I just hope Hagrid isn’t too attached to his furniture.”
Artemis wheeled around to face Charlie, who was looking out towards the sea, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.
“I’ll have you know that Scully is a reformed character,” she said, her hands on her hips.
Charlie said nothing, but his eyebrows raised fractionally. Artemis used the force of her whole body to push against his left side.
“Oi!” Charlie said, turning around to where Artemis hand been stood on his left, but she was already gone, sprinting towards the waves, both Crups following behind her. In the water, she turned back to face him, grinning and giggling mischeivously, kicking the white flecked water with her bare feet. Charlie shook his head, before kicking off his own shoes and joining her in the shallows.
It wasn’t long before Artemis next saw both of the Weasley brothers. After learning about her new appointment as Hufflepuff prefect, Charlie’s brother Bill invited Artemis out for lunch in Diagon Alley with him, Charlie, and a few former Hogwarts prefects.
Artemis travelled to the Three Broomsticks from her great-aunt’s house via the Floo Network, and she tumbled out of the fireplace at the inn with Fergus the cat and all her luggage in tow.
“Don’t you think you’ve overpacked?” Bill asked her, seeing her arrive in a flash of green flames, and starting to help her with her suitcase.
“Very funny, Bill,” Artemis rolled her eyes. “I’m going back to my mum’s after this.”
Bill nodded, and led Artemis and Fergus to a table in the corner, where Charlie was sitting, alongside two wizards and two witches, all aged around twenty. On one side of Charlie sat the former Slytherin prefect and president of the Creatures Club, Felix Rosier, and on the other, the curly-haired ex-Gryffindor, Angelica Cole, who at one time had been both prefect and Quidditch Captain for her house. Across the table, next to an empty chair which Artemis took, was Chester Davies, one-time Ravenclaw prefect and pianist, who had helped Artemis audition for the Frog Choir in her third year.
As she took her seat, Chester extended his hand to her formally to shake, which she did, her small hands dwarfed by his long, pianist’s fingers. Having greeted Chester, Artemis turned to the second witch, seated on her other side. The young woman seemed older than the other former prefects, she was shorter in stature, and had fine hair that was dirty blonde in colour, and dark circles under her eyes. Artemis didn’t recognise her, not exactly, but she thought that she looked strangely familiar. Dhe reminded her of someone, but she wasn’t sure who...
“So they made you a prefect after all, Hexley,” said the witch, and Artemis’ eyes widened as she recognised her voice.
“Jane?”
The witch that didn’t quite look like Jane Court anymore gave Artemis a strained, terse smile. Artemis tried not to let her face show her surprise. Jane had been her prefect when she first arrived at Hogwarts, and after a rocky start, the two of them had developed a relationship that almost resembled friendship. But when Artemis had known Jane, her prefect had been stout, authoritative, and formal. Now, Jane looked waifish, the bones in her face jutted out, and the circles under her eyes made her look like she was exhausted.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t recognise me, Hexley,” Jane said, quietly. Her voice had harsh quality to it that had never been there during her time at Hogwarts. Artemis opened her mouth to protest, but Jane laughed shortly. “Just my little joke, Artemis. I know I look different from when you last saw me.”
“Only a little,” Artemis lied, and Jane laughed again.
“I’m fully aware of how terrible I look, don’t worry,” she said. “Unfortunately, six months in Azkaban prison doesn’t exactly do wonders for your looks.”
“You’ve been working in Azkaban?”
“Not working, no.”
Artemis frowned, before she realised what Jane meant. She wanted to ask Jane what she had done to earn a six month sentence in Azkaban, but before she got the chance to do so, Felix Rosier stood up and offered to buy everyone a drink.
“I’ll come and help you, Felix,” said Charlie, rising from his seat and following Felix to the bar.
“What’s up with him?” Artemis asked Bill, jerking her head towards the other Weasley.
“Felix is a Dragonologist now,” Bill said, simply.
Artemis sighed. Dragons were probably Charlie’s favourite thing in the whole world, even more than Quidditch. No wonder he was so keen to talk to Rosier.
“Do you think we’ll ever get him back?” Artemis grinned, flicking her eyes between Bill and Charlie, who was at the bar with Felix talking more animatedly than she’d ever seen him before. Bill threw his hands up in the air, and started to talk to Angelica, who, from the sounds of things was now doing some sort of work with security trolls.
“Did you ever join the Frog Choir in the end?” Chester asked, turning in his seat to face Artemis, who shook her head in response. “That’s a shame. Your friend, that Snyde girl, she did have a good voice as well, though.”
“Are you still playing piano?”
“A little, in my spare time. Helps me switch off from work.”
“What do you do for work?” asked Artemis.
“I work in the Ministry. Improper Use of Magic Office.”
“That sounds...” Artemis struggled to find the right word, eventually settling for: “interesting.”
“It’s not that interesting,” Chester smirked. “Mainly it’s just paperwork.”
Artemis nodded, pretending to not think Chester’s job boring. In truth, she thought that the idea of filling in paperwork for a job sounded incredibly dull, especially in comparison with some of the exploits of famous Curse-Breakers she had read about. It didn’t take long for the discussion to turn to Artemis’ own curse-breaking experiences.
“Chester,” she said, a thought popping into her head. “You were at school before my brother was expelled, weren’t you?”
“Yeah, he got expelled at the start of my second year.”
“Was he your prefect?”
“No,” Chester shook his head. “His friend was, though. Olivia, Olivia Green. Duncan Ashe, his friend that died, he was a prefect, too, but he was Slytherin, so I didn’t have much to do with him. Felix probably would have done, though, so you could ask him.”
“If I can get a word in edgeways,” Artemis muttered, casting a look at Felix and Charlie, still animatedly discussing dragons.
“That’s true. Well, if you ask me, Dumbledore made Olivia and Duncan prefects so they would be good influences on Jacob. He’d already made himself a reputation for being a troublemaker by the time I got to school.”
“No offence, Hexley,” said Angelica, who at some point had stopped talking to Bill and started listening to their conversation, “but I’d have thought that after all the rules you’ve broken over the years you’d be out of the running for prefect entirely.”
“Yeah, well,” Artemis replied. “I’m as surprised as you are. I was sure it would have been Rowan.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, Artemis felt a distinct pang of guilt. Her best friend in the whole world, Rowan Khanna, had high ambitions for her future: one day being headmistress of Hogwarts, becoming the school’s youngest ever professor, getting to be the Head Girl in her final year, and prefect in her fifth. The idea that Rowan wouldn’t be able to achieve the first of her goals, and that she herself was the reason why, filled Artemis with a number of emotions, none of them pleasant.
“Have you written to Rowan?” Bill asked, after he, Artemis and Charlie had bid farewell to the others, and started to make their way through the crowded streets of Diagon Alley to purchase their equipment for school.
“Not yet,” Artemis admitted.
“My goodness,” Bill grinned at her. “You’re scared to tell her, aren’t you?”
“I’m not scared, I just... I know how sad she’s going to be. And I don’t want to upset her, that’s all.”
“She won’t be that upset.”
“You don’t know Rowan like I do. She’s wanted to be prefect since our first day at Hogwarts, and now I’ve taken it from her, and I’m meant to be her best-”
“You are her best friend, and I’m sure that she will be happy for you,” said Bill. He started laughing. “You know, Penny was just as worried about telling you about us, and you were fine about it.”
“Yeah, I guess. How did you two even happen, anyway?”
“Just did, I guess. One of those serendipitous things,” Artemis frowned, and Bill grinned. “As in, you find something that you weren’t necessarily looking for.”
“I know what it means,” Artemis lied. “I just can’t believe you two were going out for months and just let me figure it out by myself.”
“I mean, you hardly figured-”
“I was wrong about one minor detail, that’s all.”
“A minor detail? You put two and two together and got five.”
“Well, in my defence, I have always been bad at Arithmancy,” Artemis shrugged. “You know, I’m not even that worried about the O.W.L. exams this year. I can’t wait for them to be over so I can just give up Arithmancy altogether.”
“You’ll change your tune once the teachers start nagging you. Trust me, everyone gets worried about the O.W.L.s at some point.”
But the only owl Artemis was worried about was the one she knew she had to send Rowan.
Artemis returned to her mother’s house in London later that day for the last week of the school holidays. Sara Hexley was in her study with the door open when Artemis arrived, and seemed not to notice her daughter clattering into the house and up the several flights of stairs to her attic bedroom with all her luggage.
“Ma?” Artemis asked, standing in the doorway of the study. Her mother didn’t seem to have heard her, so raised her voice. “Ma?” Still, nothing. Artemis let out a frustrated sigh, and tried a different tack. “Sally!”
Artemis’ mother flinched, and raised her head from her desk.
“Yes?” she asked, tersely, before lowering her gaze once more.
“Can I borrow Athena? Ma. Can I borrow Athena?
“Hm? Oh, of course.”
“Thanks,” Artemis took a deep breath, and, as optimistic as ever, attempted to engage her in conversation. “I’ve just got back from meeting my friends in Diagon Alley. Bill’s the new Head Boy, and Charlie’s been made a prefect. I don’t know if you got my letter, but I’m a prefect, too.”
“That’s nice.”
“Yeah, it is. It means I get to use a special bathroom and wear a badge and everything. My badge is in my room, actually. Would you like to see it?” As expected, Sara Hexley did not respond to Artemis’ question. She sighed, and continued, “Well, you don’t have to see it, it is just a badge with a big ‘P’ on it. But it’s quite a big deal, so Bill invited some of the old school prefects to meet us for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron. Were you a prefect when you were at school? Did they have prefects at your school?” Artemis’ mother didn’t reply to this, either. Artemis stared at her, hard, and raised her voice. “Anyway, we went for lunch, and then we broke into a Gringotts. And after that, we burnt a goat alive to appease the old gods, and danced naked on its ashes to the sound of mermaid song.”
Sara Hexley remained unmoved. Well, thought Artemis, if that didn’t get her attention, nothing would. She rolled her eyes, and left to go and write her letter to Rowan. After multiple failed attempts, she managed to write a letter that she was half happy with, and sent Athena away with it.
As she watched Athena fly away, letter in her beak, Artemis scratched the ears of her beloved ginger cat, Fergus.
“I hope she doesn’t hate me. I don’t think I could cope without Rowan on my side,” she told him. Fergus looked at her with his bottle green eyes, and miaowed at her. “I know, you’ll always be on my side. Just as well, really. It was pretty lonely around this place before you came along.”
It was still rather lonely with Fergus. Artemis’ mother made no effort to speak to her for the rest of the week, and by the final evening of August, the night before Artemis was due to get the train home, she had yet to receive word from Rowan. As she was getting into bed, she heard a tapping on the sloped ceiling, where a window opened into the roof.
“Athena!”
Artemis jumped out of bed, pulled her bedside table out, and stood on it to open the window, both hoping and dreading the contents of the reply from Rowan. But, there wasn’t one. Athena had returned empty-beaked.
With no response from her best friend in the whole world, Artemis was at a complete loss. She buried both hands in her hair and breathed deeply. She wished her friends were here with her. Bill would know what she should do. Penny would be able to talk to Rowan for her. Tonks would be able to make jokes until she felt like smiling again. Charlie probably wouldn’t say much, but he’d at least listen to her. Rowan would... Well, if Rowan were here there wouldn’t be a problem, she thought, bitterly.
But none of them were here. It was just her and Fergus, and as much as she loved her loyal feline friend, she didn’t think that he would be able to offer much in the way of advice. There was only one other person she could turn to, and as doubtful as she felt, she was even more desperate.
“Ma,” she said, entering her mother’s bedroom. Sara Hexley was reading in bed, propped up on her pillows. Artemis climbed up onto the bed and sat on top of the covers by her mother’s feet, her knees pulled into her chest. “I have a problem.”
Artemis’ mother said nothing, but slowly, she closed her book. Perhaps there was hope after all.
“It’s my friend. My best friend, she really wanted to be prefect, and she isn’t and I am,” Artemis told her. Now that she had started speaking, the words kept coming. She couldn’t stop them. “I wrote to tell her, and she didn’t reply to my letter, and now I think she might hate me. I don’t want her to hate me, but she does, and now I don’t know what to do. What do you think I should do?”
“I don’t know,” said Sara, and she opened her book again. Artemis let go of her shins, and stared at her, her anxiety giving way to rising anger.
“Is that all you have to say?” she demanded. Her mother didn’t reply, didn’t look at her, even.
“I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”
“Anything!” Artemis leapt to her feet, and almost shouted. “Tell me how to fix it. Tell me that I don’t need to fix it, that everything’s going to be okay. Tell me that Rowan doesn’t hate me, for Godric’s sake, tell me that you don’t hate me!”
Her daughter’s words appeared to wound Sara Hexley. She closed her eyes tight, and took a shaky breath. But she said nothing. Artemis couldn’t tell if she wanted to get up in her mother’s face and shake her, or run away from her as fast as her legs would carry her. In the end, she did neither.
“You can’t do it, can you?” she said, her voice low, her whole body trembling. “You can’t tell me that you don’t hate me.”
Sara breathed again, deeper this time, and pressed the tips of her forefingers to the inside of her eyebrows, her head making a tiny, fast movement from side to side. It was as if she were trying to not speak out, to not think at all. Artemis could look at her no longer. She lifted her own head, face raised to the ceiling, and exhaled, before she left her mother’s room and returned to her own in the attic.
Closing her bedroom door behind her, she turned toward it, pressed both hands to it, and banged her forehead against the wood three times, before staying motionless, her face and palms pressed to the door. Fergus let out a doleful miaow, and brushed up against her left shin.
“I know, I should have just stayed up here and talked to you about it,” Artemis muttered, peeling herself away from the door. She scooped Fergus up in her arms, and carried him over to the bed. “There’s no need to speak to me like that.”
Fergus rubbed his cheek against her own, and eventually, Artemis fell asleep with him lying across her neck.