0930 hours


Koko Yukawa was brushing her teeth over her kitchen sink and reading headlines in the Prophet, toothpaste dripping over her Hello Kitty night shirt. It was just one of those days: her brain was taking FOREVER to wake up. She needed a strong black coffee from Alohomocha, like, right now. The witch spat into the drain, rinsed out and folded up the paper.

A stack of owl mail was waiting on her tiny round table in the kitchen. Her flat was a bit of a tip, as it always was.

Books, records, newspapers and magazines were stacked on any given surface. Photographs pinned to walls. Lots of novelty souvenirs were lined up on the edge of shelves or tables, the only clear sign of organisation. Her clothes were draped across chairs and sofas, perfectly clean but having not made it to the bedroom.

"What do we have today?" she muttered playfully, sitting down and crossing her legs as she began tearing open envelopes. No Howlers! Yet! Thank Merlin. Koko reached for a colourful envelope with a little frown.

Stardust Theatre? Was she supposed to review something? She read the deep purple scribble, frown deepening. Was Edgar Carstairs mad? What did he mean, her aching arse?? Ugh, artists were always so weird. Maybe he'd meant to send it to another Witch Weekly reporter. Someone who'd written a scathing review.. She crumpled up the letter and started going through the others.

Bills, fan mail, hate mail. Newsletters, more hate mail. Cuffe. Cuffe? Koko stared at the brief note from the Editor of the Daily Prophet, a man who she'd never had a reason to meet in-person and who had never had a reason to write her. What the bloody hell? This must have been for Gen or something, Koko didn't deal with other editors.

She folded up parchment, deciding to take it into HQ today, just in case they were in deep shit with Barnabas Cuffe or his reporters. There was honour between thieves; why would he send this? It sounded like a bona fide threat, publishing a communication.

 Something strange was brewing, she could feel it. And it wasn't a good feeling because this time it had to do with her.