Morwenna nearly laughed – had she finally achieved the impossible and managed to appear, as Maxwell had once put it, less matron and more manager? Of course she had been briefed by her capture units as to the woman’s crime but Morwenna was always inclined, where possible, to hear such things from the horse’s mouth. She utterly loathed being given poor information.

“Assume I don’t,” she replied, taking out her wand and conjuring up a chair to settle herself upon. Being imperious was one thing but even if she hadn’t acquired a lasting pain in her leg from a werewolf attack that had soon been followed by a tiger bite – which, if nothing else, at least covered the first scar – she was also sixty and had a feeling this conversation might take a while.

Vampires, in her experience, were impressively stubborn and extremely reticent in what they gave away. She might be here all night.

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MJ knows my soul rings to the rune of this iconic hat