1am

“iHijo de puta!” Exclaimed the Editor of Witch Weekly as the wireless radio in her living room came to life. Her still-husband/squatter had already gone to bed, for, in their rather strange and complicated relationship, he had been staying in Dante’s room since their son had returned to Hogwarts. Genevieve, already makeup free and in her pyjamas, had been close to calling it a night and taking herself to bed when the wireless, set to the frequency of the old Witch Weekly Wireless channel, burst to life with a jingle followed by the voice of a young witch.

Without any pause, the witch snatched up her wand from the coffee table and jumped up from the sofa. She and Sandy had agreed to meet downstairs in the office if the show came back on tonight. Before tonight, they’d done some detective work, checking out the Witch Weekly basement to indeed find the archives disturbed, dust wiped away and records moved. The only part of the mystery to remain was exactly who was breaking into the Witch Weekly offices in the middle of the night to join the airwaves.

The mere fact that someone was breaking into the offices downstairs made Gen oddly grateful that the former auror/still husband was in fact staying in her son’s vacant bedroom because, as a Hogwarts drop out, she was hardly skilled at defensive magic.

Wand raised, Gen left her flat through the door and started to head down the stairs into the dark office. In reception, the fireplace burst into life and out of the flames, as expected, stepped the magazine’s owner.

“Next time Leo mentions warding the building better, I’m saying yes.” Gen greeted Sandy with a hushed whisper. She lowered her wand. “It’s bloody creepy that they’ve been down there for months while I’ve been sleeping upstairs like a ignorant fool” she waved at the stairs down to the basement, silently telling him it was him who would be leading the way to possible doom.

"Creepy." Agreed Sandy. Similarly hushed. "But to broadcast a long silent radio?" There were creepier things to do towards Gen. This seemed artistic and for personal pleasure. Especially judging on what they heard.

Unlike Gen he was dressed in day clothes. He would not be wandering his offices in pyjamas. He lived in Oulton Broad. He had sat up reading healer journals with the radio tuned. Sandy was used to working all hours at the hospital.

He lit his wand tip and led on. The archives of the magazine's once wireless station were below the main floor in the cellars. All manner of storage was down there. From back issues and left over competition prizes to giant posters and photoshoot props. It all threw creepy shadows on the wall as they entered. Their footfalls silent. At the foot of the stairs Sandy paused. Finger to his lips. Listening. Then he plunged them into gloom. His wand glow going out. Looking for a glow of light from a particular door.

Gen was right behind Sandy. Her wand, useless as it likely was in a wand fight, was raised before her regardless. Her feet were now bare, having chosen to leave them at the top of the staircase so they didn’t drag noisily on the ground. When they silently came to the end of the corridor, Sandy dimmed his wand and they were in darkness.

Behind the door, Gen could just about make out a voice. It sounded female, but she couldn’t be sure due to the fact it was so muffled. It was a moment or so before Sandy pushed the door open silently. Then, Gen immediately recognised the voice and pushed forward past the magazine owner.

“Oh no F@*%ing way!” She exclaimed, flicking her wand at the lights above their heads. Suddenly the room was bathed in a warm glow, and she could see the witch seated at the deck. “^*$&£ @^&*.” She cursed again, looking back to Sandy. “This girl brings my coffee and steals our airwaves. Used to.” Now, the pretty and tall girl was going to be painfully unemployed if she couldn’t dig herself out of the grave she’d made.

Waverly screamed. The leggy young witch with her curly hair in a big poof on top of her head was all elbows and ankles as she flew up from the chair, transformed into a spotted wildcat, and then back again. After months of complete solitude in theses cluttered cobby cellars, the sudden appearance of her bosses was more terrifying than an Auror raid at this point.

Anyone else who would have been tuned in to this particular pirated channel will have been listening to the Unnamed Host's velvety alto reading a ghost story. But then, there will have been Queen G's shout, Wav's scream, a crash, and dead air. They won't have heard the Waverly catching her breath, one hand on her chest, the other held out at Queen G and Sandy Misslethorpe.

"Fucking shit! Oh my god! You scared me! What are you doing here?"

Genevieve recognized the pirate radio presenter before Sandy could. There was a scream. A wildcat. Then a witch. His wand was pointed right at it. Instinctively.

"What are we doing here?" Asked Sandy. Turning her question round on her. "What are you doing here?!" He might be dressed by Gen was in her slippers. "And do not try to pass this off as a one-off. We know." He glanced to the Editor in Chief then back to the witch before the desk.

We know. The simple sentence from Mr. Misslethorpe hit harder than any of Queen G's most vitriolic lambastes. Waverly felt herself go blank, which was better than freaking out or blubbering or feeling anything at all.

They knew. So they'd heard.

"So did you like it?" she asked, keeping a smile off her face.