Hogwarts crest tattoo on a calf

She had come to the school in September, the only porter under fifty, and the older teachers called her Pennick while the boys called her Mrs Tickle, which she had decided to take as affection. The crest was everywhere: carved over the Great Hall door, printed on the staff mugs. Four quarters on a gold-rimmed shield held a red lion, a green snake, a black badger and a blue eagle, all glaring at one another as if someone had insulted their mothers. The motto curled beneath in Latin, and the boys had taught her what it meant, which was that you should never tickle a sleeping dragon. She had decided it was sound advice for a porter.

The cabinets in the Long Gallery were locked, all except the badger one, whose brass catch had snapped in autumn and been wired shut with kitchen string. Maud untwisted the string. Inside lay forty years of lost property: a single glove, a chess knight, a letter in handwriting that leaned backwards. Beneath it was a ledger, and the last entry, in pencil, read: one torch, one boot, one small green scarf, returned to owner at dawn. The date was tonight's. The owner's name was hers.

She sat with the ledger on her knee until the radiator knocked again. Then she put her boots on, tied them double, and went down to see about the boiler.