As if on cue, the door opened, the Ministry investigator on the other side looking about the room before his eyes finally settled upon her.

“We’re ready for you now, Miss Connolly,” he said, and Maeve groaned. Though she was eager to be done with this, she had always loathed being at anyone’s beck and call.

“You’re a sorcerer, Mr. Skeeter,” she teased quietly as she returned once more to her feet, stretching each of her limbs languidly before moving towards the waiting figure. At the last moment, Maeve paused, then turned ‘round.

“Good luck,” she called back to her former companion. She hoped he would not need it—he’d been through enough.