The Adventures of Artemis Hexley

OUT OF THE ASHES • Defiantly, Maybe

Artemis walked briskly down the hall, her fingers clutching the copy of the Daily Prophet so tightly that her knuckles were almost white, her eyes scanning the nameplates on the doors until she stopped abruptly by the one she wanted. Clenching her other fist - the one that wasn't holding the newspaper - she raised her hand to the door and knocked hard, just below the bronze plaque that read: C. Davies, Council of Magical Law.

"Come in."

The voice was familiar and weary, and Artemis steeled herself as she pushed the door open to reveal its owner, a tall and weary looking wizard with dark curly hair sitting at a large mahogany desk. The wizard in question raised his head to look at her, and a look of disconcertion passed over his pale and lined face as he did so.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her, in a tone that could not be described as pleasantly surprised.

"I need your help," Artemis replied, already striding across the room.

"My help? What with?"

Artemis slammed the newspaper down onto the desk in front of him. "This."

She remained standing, the heels of her hands pressed to the desk, glaring at the wizard as he slowly leant across the table and picked up the paper, watching Artemis as if he were unsure of what to make of her.

His long fingers unfolded the crumpled and hastily rolled up pages and he began to frown as he read the article. Artemis' foot tapped impatiently as his eyes scanned the page.

"Well?" she snapped, when she could wait no longer. The wizard across the desk said nothing, merely pressed the fingertips of one hand to his forehead. "Are you reading this, Chester?"

"I've finished reading it."

"And?"

"And what?" Chester asked, his weary gaze back on Artemis, his fingers still pressed to his temple. "I don't understand what the issue is here."

"Oh, really?" Artemis snatched the paper back from him and read aloud: " 'This year marks the fifteenth anniversary of the death of Rowan Khanna, an intelligent and vivacious girl whose bright light was snuffed out years before her time. Today, Rita Skeeter talks about her latest exposé, which will explore the life and death of Miss Khanna, featuring exclusive interviews from those who were closest to her, and who still suffer the scars of her tragic loss.' You really don't understand the issue with that?"

Chester sighed. "It's not-"

"Or this, maybe: 'One chapter that readers may find particularly interesting centres on the relationship between Miss Khanna and her erstwhile closest friend, one Miss Artemis Hexley. Miss Hexley has had somewhat of an unorthodox lifestyle following the tragedy, and this exposé really highlights the effect that the emotional wounds of her traumatic past have marred her present.' Now can you understand the issue here?"

Artemis exhaled so quickly and noisily that her breath formed a growl in the back of her throat, and as her fist clenched around the newspaper once more, it crumpled in her grip. Chester finally seemed to understand somewhat, because he sat up straight in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest.

"It's not that I don't understand why this is a problem for you-"

"This is not just a problem 'for me'; it's a problem, full stop."

"- but I don't know why you're here," Chester said. His voice was level, but there was a look of quiet resentment in his eyes. "I don't know why you've come to me, of all people."

"Because you're a senior member of the Council of Magical Law now, and... Well, I thought you might like to help me."

Chester made a noise of derision.