“I rather suspect the Ministry might be as in the dark as the rest of us,” Orlando said as he folded up the Daily Prophet and looked over to where his sister was sat at the dining table. The children were eating upstairs, safely tucked away in the nursery, and Orlando had yet to touch his own food: the churning feeling of anxiety in his stomach would not allow anything to settle.

Whatever was going on was a mystery to everybody and Orlando wished he had taken the initiative to leave the village when they’d had the chance. Of course he had never imagined for a moment that it would lead to this – magic gone from Wellingtonshire too and he, for the first time since childhood, having to navigate life without it. Thank Merlin they had staff. Orlando didn’t rate their chances of survival if left entirely to their own devices!

“Perhaps we ought to have gone to London for the season?”