If there was a God - and Morwenna's far-ago upbringing still told her than there was, despite evidence to the contrary - then it was her dearest, most desperate wish that He felt their suffering on earth. She hoped He was eternal. She hoped He felt the pain of losing His son in the deepest, hollowest parts of the soul he had once sent down to be amongst his creations and Morwenna hoped it hurt.

Standing by her son's grave Morwenna wished nothing but suffering on the almighty being that had done this to her. There was no one else to hate. After everything that had happened since this village had come to exist, all the disasters that had nearly swallowed it and their people with it, it had been something else that had fuelled her beautiful boy.

An accident. Just an accident.

She was conscious of the fact that she was shaking despite the warm weather. Her knuckles were white against the smooth precious stone that topped her walking stick and had she been a woman with strength left in her bones she might have shattered it. But there was nothing left now. No strength, no determination, no will to carry on.

Only one thing was left. Well, two, if she was being more accurate. But the final act lived up to its name and she had something to achieve yet.

She flicked her wand and sent her patronus - once a proud wolfhound and now, inevitably, a wolf - with a simple message: "We need to meet. Come to my house. Tomorrow."

That done, Morwenna glanced around herself and noticed for the first time she was the only one left - the others had left her to it.

Just as well, she thought bitterly. Let them walk away. Tomorrow they’ll run and after that it won’t matter what they do.

---

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