(Josie Sayz: This
story started as a silly thought on September 1st, how I would much
rather have been on the Hogwarts Express, on my way to Hogwarts, to be a
teacher, than I would live my actual life. I had no idea where this story was
going to go, but I decided, in the end, to make it a part of the same universe
as ‘MJ’s Journal’.)
With a floor
length, black cloak draped around her shoulders, a red head sat alone, in the
corner of a bustling café, sipping a mug of hot chocolate. A small, brown,
faux-leather satchel, with a brass clasp, sat on the table, to the left of her
saucer. Away from the rest of the café’s customers, the red head went unnoticed
by the room’s inhabitants, as she scribbled away on a piece of parchment, with
a quill in her right hand. A small inkpot held the curling, yellowed paper down
in one corner, while the saucer pressed down the other.
The
bustling of business workers travelling to work passed by, as the queue of
suits and briefcases for travel mugs of coffee slowed. A screeching of wheels
sounded, as another train pulled up in the nearby train station. Bodies bumbled
about outside the café. Some dashed in the direction of the train station,
others ran from the station, to the taxis parked on the roadside.
A clattering of suitcases, from the table closest to the door, caused the
red head to jump. Her eyes darted to the old-fashioned trunk that skidded
towards the doorway. A frown puckered her forehead, as a young boy, no older
that twelve, leapt to his feet, chasing after the case. “Mum, we’re going to be
late,” he cried, as he plonked his Paddington Bear style trunk on top of another
case.
“The train doesn’t leave until eleven o’clock,” replied his mother, as
she returned her cup to its saucer.
“Exactly,” he hissed, as he swiped a black robe from the back of his
chair. “Jack will be there already. His parents get here early,” he exclaimed,
with wild eyes, stuffing is arms into the robe’s sleeves.
“Well, I’m not Jack’s mother, am I?” she retorted. Folding his arms, the
boy scrunched up his face. “Oh Sam,” she sighed. “You’re going to spend the
entire school year with Jack. Please let me enjoy the last ten minutes that
I’ll get with you.”
“Okay,” he sighed. His arms flopped to his sides and his shoulders
deflated. As his eyes met his mum’s, a soft smile spread across his face, as the
plonked back down in his chair.
A smirk prodded into the right corner of the red head’s mouth, as she
averted her eyes back to her parchment on the table. With her mug in her left
hand and a quill in her right, she dipped the nib of her quill back into the
inkwell. She scribbled the last of her thoughts down, before flickering a
glance to the clock above the door.
Having packed her things away, the red head swept out of the café. Her
heels clopped on the floor. She looped her thumb around the strap of her bag, as
she increased her pace. As an autumnal breeze swept by, her cloak billowed out
behind her. Arriving at the train station, her eyes flickered around at the
bodies gathering on platforms nine and ten. A flutter of butterflies erupted
from her stomach. ‘I haven’t been here since I was a teenager,’ she mused, as
memories of her school adventures with MJ and Jed danced to the front of her
mind. ‘That was half my life ago,’ she realised, as the memories of her last
year of school sent a shiver down her spine.
Wheels squeaked. Metal rattled. The red head’s eyes widened, as her head
darted over her left shoulder. “There it is,” gasped a boy, as he pushed along
a rickety, metal trolley containing two trunks and a caged owl. Two older boys,
behind him, were pushing identical carts full of luggage, absent of an owl.
Dressed in jeans and maroon jumpers, the three boys, the red head determined,
were clearly siblings, all will scruffy dark hair and a large nose.
“Careful,” mumbled one of the older boys, as they got within earshot.
“Yes,” barked a large man, with the same large nose as the three boys, stomping
along behind them. “That redheaded woman’ll see you.” Chuckling to herself, the
red head approached the boys.
“It is quite alright,” she assured them, with a soft smile. “Hogwarts,
is it?” she asked. The boys nodded. “First time?” she asked the youngest boy,
with a giggle.
“Yes, Miss,” he replied, his eyes wide.
“Now,” replied the large man, clearing his throat in a cantankerous
manner. “We mustn’t be late.”
“After you,” replied the red head, holding her hand out towards the brick
pillar between platforms nine and ten. As she took a step back, the three boys raced
towards the wall, one by one, and as they made impact with the bricks, they
disappeared. Their father followed after them.
With the school children through the secret passageway, the red head took
a glance from left to right. Despite the many bodies bumbling about around her,
no one seemed to notice she was there. Seeping in a long, slow breath, a smile
prodded into the right corner of the red head’s cheek as she took a step forward.
A whistle sounded. Steam seeped into the air. Chatter and muffled
conversations bubbled around her. The brass sign ‘Platform 9¾’ hung overhead. Her
eyes widened, as the same red steam train that she had boarded for the first
time twenty-one years ago stood before her. “Wow,” she breathed, taking a few
steps towards it, away from the platform entrance. Flickering a glance down the
platform, her brow puckered. ‘The number carriages go on forever,’ she gasped,
wide eyes as her lips parted. ‘No wonder the school are hiring more staff, they
must be expanding.’
She stood for a while, to the side of the platform, watching the bustle
of students racing over to the friends and the gaggle of gathering parents,
making sure that they children left nothing behind. Spotting the young boy,
Sam, and his mum that she had seen in the café, she smirked to herself. The boy
threw his arms around his mum, giving her a hug goodbye, before running off to his
friends.
Her heels clopped down the platform, as she flickered a glance inside
the train’s carriages. Those closest to the head of the train were crammed with
students, both new and returning, gossiping with friends and showing off their pet
owls, cats and toads. As she neared the tail end of carriages, the voices and
stomping of feet quietened. Boarding the train, her eyes grew wide, as she was
surprised to see that over the years, the carriages remained the same. Her eyes
fluttered closed, as she seeped in a long, slow breath. A sweet, musty, old
wood scent brought back many memories of her childhood train rides to the front
of her mind: scrambling to find a free compartment, with her friends MJ and Jed,
squishing up together when their Slytherin friends would join them for part of
the journey, lingering in the compartment doorway to the older students (in her
house) to talk to Fabian and his friends. A warmth tingled at her chest, as the
happy memories washed over her.
Settling herself down in the corner of the empty compartment, she placed
her notebook-sized satchel on the table. As she flicked open the brass clasp,
she pulled out her parchment, inkwell, quill, water bottle, a warn and frayed pointed
witch hat and a blue and bronze striped scarf. A frown puckered her brow, as
she scrunched her mouth up into one corner. “Where is it?” she huffed to
herself. With a collection of her belongings spreading out across the table,
she rolled her sleeve up and leant forwards. “Goodness,” she sighed as her arm
dove so deep into her bag that the faux-leather edging of her satchel dug into
her armpit. In shoulder deep, to an outside, it would look like the red head’s
arm had been eaten by her tiny satchel, for her arm appeared to disappear at
the bag’s opening. Her eyes gazed at the ceiling of the compartment, as she
rummaged around. “That’s not it,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “Ow!” she
exclaimed, as her spine straightened. “Found it.” A pleased smile stretched
across her face, as she placed the reading book that she had retrieved on her
lap. Bending, the red head reached down, towards her shoes, sliding a thin,
wooden stick out from inside her boot. As she gave the stick a wave, her scarf
began to dance across the table and slid back into her satchel, followed by her
pointed hat, folding itself up as it squeezed inside. Next, her water bottle,
quill, inkwell and parchment tapped across the table, before jumping into her
bag. With a swish of her wrist, the flap of her bag flopped closed, and the
clasp clicked. Satisfied, the red head nodded to herself, and slipped her wand
back into her boot. As the train’s whistle gave a screeching toot, she flickered
open several pages of her book, to locate her bookmark, leant back in her seat
and began reading.
The rhythmical chu-chug of the train brought back a feeling of nostalgia
that the red head was surprised to realise that she had missed. A small pang tugged
at her heart, as she shuffled in her seat. The busy, bustling streets of London
were soon replaced with lush green rolling hills, fields full of autumn crops
almost ready for harvest, and forests of trees, as they headed into the
countryside. Periodically, footsteps trundled past her carriage, and heads
peered at the window. For the most part, her journey was a quiet one. As the
journey progressed deep into the day, and the sun began it’s decent, the red
head found her eyes flickering closed.
A metallic clatter sounded in the distance. With a groan, the red head
stirred. Sliding her fingers beneath her purple spectacles, she rubbed her
eyes. The rhythmical clatter grew louder. Closer. Her compartment door slid
open. “Anything off the trolley, dear?” asked a frail-looking elderly lady,
peering inside. The red head’s eyes shot open wide.
‘It’s her,’ she gasped, as she stared. The same frail lady who ran the
tea trolley, back when she was eleven was still asking students, and the
occasional teacher travelling to the school by train, if they wanted snacks.
“You know,” chuckled the red head. “I might.” Sliding her hand into her
pocket, she rummaged around for some coins, as she scooted out from her seat
and took a look at the selection of treats available on the trolley. The front
of the rickety cart was stacked with small, pentagon shaped blue boxes with
golden swirls, which read ‘Chocolate Frogs’. Beside them were a stack of
chocolate cupcakes covered with dripping green icing. Gummy snakes, in a pot,
were stacked behind them, with a cone of long spirally lollypops that reminded
her of the beach. There were little pastries wrapped up in white napkins, a
polystyrene-looking stick stuffed with rosy-red lollypops, small clusters of
sweets that looked like penny-chews, a bowl full of rainbow-coloured pebbles and
a large jug filled with a thick dark-orange liquid. Her eyes grew wide, once
more. ‘I haven’t seen any of these since I was last on the train,’ she
realised, as her eyes gleamed. Selecting a pumpkin pastie, wrapped in a napkin,
and a lollypop quill, the red head let out a little child-like giggle, as she
handed over her coins.
“Thank you dear,” replied the elderly lady, with a nod, before continuing
her rounds, with her trolley.
After finishing her snack, the red read returned to reading, as she
licked the tip of her strawberry lollypop quill. Shuffling in her seat, the red
head let out a frustrated sigh, as she struggled to concentrate. Her shoulders
deflated, as she slipped her bookmark into her space near the end of the book
and placed it on the table in front of her. The cover of her book, ‘Welcome to
Arcturus High,’ by Josette Lola Sandbrook stared back at her. She poked a small
smile into the right corner of her mouth, before flickering a glance towards
the window. A warm, amber glow seeped into the clouds, as the sun made its
decent in the sky. ‘We must be close,’ she realised. Gathering her belongings
from the table, she swept them into her satchel, before leaping from her seat
and making her way into the corridor of the carriage.
As the train screeched to a halt at Hogsmeade station, the red head made
sure that she was the first passenger to leave. Knowing that the excited bumble
of students would be clambering into the Thestral drawn carriages, to make their way up the castle, she apparated her way to the outskirts
of the school grounds.
Arriving ahead of the crowd, her heels clopped along the bridge, leading
to the main castle grounds. A warm flutter of butterflies danced around her
intestines, as she pulled open the old castle door. “Josie,” gasped a familiar
voice, as she stepped inside.
“Neville,” the red head beamed, greeting him with open arms. “It’s so
good to see you,” she told him, through a hug.
“You didn’t need to take the train, you know,” her former classmate told
her, with a chuckle.
“I wanted to,” she replied. “It was nostalgic,” she added, with a soft
smile.
“Well, now you’re here, I can lead you to your classroom, if you like.
You can drop off your things and meet us in the great hall for the feast,” he
said, holding his hand out towards Josie’s left.
“Thank you,” she said with a smile, and a sigh of relief.
“You’re travelling light,” Neville pointed out, as they began their walk
through the castle. He gestured to Josie’s single, small satchel, looped over
her left shoulder, bouncing at her hip, as she walked. “I thought you’re going
to be a live-in professor.”
“I am,” she sang. “It’s the Undetectable Extension Charm.”
“Of course,” Neville chuckled. “You were always the best in our year at
Charms.” The red head blushed, as Neville led them along another corridor.
“I’m a little nervous, being back here… and teaching,” the red head
confessed, squeezing her right elbow tighter, with her left hand, as they
passed by a wall decorated with portraits. “It’s a bit of a career change.”
“Don’t worry,” Neville chuckled. “I felt the same way, when I first
returned to Hogwarts. Think of me as your induction buddy. Any worries,
questions you have at all, come and find me, okay?”
“Really?” she squeaked. Several portraits nodded in agreement. Smiling
back at her, Neville nodded. “Thanks Neville. I’m really grateful.”
“Your seat is next to mine at the teacher table,” he told her. “So,
you’ll at least know one person.”
“Thank you,” she said again, although the lines on her brow remained. “I
really mean it,” she told him, forcing a swallow against her dry throat, as Neville
led the way up a winding staircase.
“And don’t worry. You’re not the only new teacher this year,” Neville
informed her, in hopes of easing the red head’s nerves. “Professor Flitwick
finally retired, so we have a new Charms teacher too, Professor Hayes.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you were hiring a Charms professor too,” Josie
exclaimed, with wide eyes.
“Had I known you were looking for a teaching job, I’d have asked
McGonagall to reach out to you,” he said, giving her a weak smile. “She hired
the Charms position a few months before she needed a new Divination teacher,
I’m afraid. I’m surprised she didn’t mention it at your interview.”
“No worries,” Josie shrugged. “I daresay my magic’s a little rusty,” she
said, with a nervous giggle, before averting her eyes to her boots.
“You said you’d been in a muggle position?” Neville asked, in hopes of
keeping Josie talking, to help he forget about her nerves.
“Yeah, I took a small office job, whilst doing divination on the side,
for a local newspaper. I lived with a muggle, Peter Peterson,” she said, with a
dreamy smile. “We’d been together almost five years. He knew I was a witch, but
things didn’t work out,” she muttered, as her shoulders deflated. “It’s been so
painful, the past year or so, living in the same village and randomly bumping
into him and his new partner,” she went on, as lines puckered her brow. “I
needed to get away, and what could be further away from muggle life than a
magic school, in the highlands of Scotland, enchanted so that no muggle could
ever find it?” she said, with a nervous laugh.
“I’m sorry,” Neville muttered, placing his left hand on her shoulder. A
salty prickle filtered into the corner of her eyes, as she gave a shaky sniff.
“I’m fine,” she muttered, shaking her head. “I’m fine.”
“Get yourself settled and come and come and join us I the great hall for
the feast in a moment, okay?” he told her, as they reached the top of the
staircase. Forcing a swallow, Josie nodded. “We can have a catch up,” he said,
with a warm smile. “And it’s Friday, so we can have a little drink and not
worry about the morning,” he added with a chuckle. “I’m sure we can find
something a little stronger, if you need it.”
“Thanks,” she replied, with a forced smile. Prodding a smile into the
left corner of his mouth, Neville gave her shoulder another squeeze, before
trudging back down the staircase.
Opening the door to the room, lines puckered her forehead. She was stood
in a white, empty space. ‘This looks nothing like Professor Trelawney’s old
classroom,’ she realised, as her heart sank to her stomach. Clopping her heels
across the floor to the ajar door to her right, the red head peered inside.
“Empty,” she sighed aloud. Dropping her satchel to the ground, her shoulders
deflated. ‘Silly woman,’ she scolded herself, ‘You’re a witch.’ Scruffing a
hand to her fringe, she chuckled to herself shaking her head, as she retrieved
her wand form her boot.
Closing
her eyes, the red head inhaled a long slow breath. Her shoulders relaxed, as she
exhaled. As a smile poked into the corner of her mouth, she gave a swish of her
wand. A green sparkle illuminated the room, as a warm grey washed over the
walls. A small, round, rustic wooden table, with a lick of warm grey paint
appeared before her, with matching round backed seats, with padded bright green
and white polka dot cushions. On the opposite side of the room, a small cool grey
settee, with three mint green cushions appeared. Above the settee sat a shelf,
decorated with a glass, clear and transparent-apple-green
pumpkin, a three-tier stack of ceramic pumpkins (with the largest one on the
bottom being grey, the smaller one in the middle green and the tiniest one on
top in white) and her favourite ceramic mint green pumpkin on the right the corner. Opposite
the door sat a grey armchair, with a small red and white
polka dot mushroom stool at the foot of the chair. Draped over the arm of the
chair lay Josie’s favourite, cosy, olive-coloured throw. Behind the armchair,
the back wall now had shelves, full of books and little trinkets. Placing her
satchel on the dining table, Josie spun on her heels and returned to her
classroom canvas.
Skipping
into the centre of her empty classroom, Josie’s eyes widened, and a mysterious
smile prodded into the right corner of her mouth. A giggle escaped her, as she
raised her wand above her head and spun around on her toes. A mystic purple
sparkle immitted from the end of her wand, washing a newfound colour over the
room. A dark, midnight purple sky washed over the walls. Decorated with stars,
the walls sparkled, as she tilted her head to the right. Instead of desks and
chairs, dotted around the room were beanbags and cushions in an array of
purples and blues hugged around small, round, black, wooden coffee tables,
washed over with a sprinkle of silver glitter. In the middle of the room, a
taller version of the coffee tables, became the centre drawing point. In the
middle of the table sat a crystal ball. On the far side of the room, beside her
personal door, lay several black bookcases, decorated with textbooks and tarot
decks. On the door into Josie’s personal room, sat a black, wooden moon shelf,
full of crystals, with three chains of rose gold stars dangling down the
doorway.
Satisfied with both her room and her classroom, she stood back, admiring
her work, with a smile. Warmth tingled at her chest, as she poked her head back
inside her room. Retrieving her pointed witch’s hat from her satchel, she gave
it a pat, before stroking her fingers across the deep purple, silky ribbon that
wrapped around its base. As she placed the hat on her head, the tail of the purple
ribbon drifted down her hair. Flickering a glance around her room, a smile
prodded into her cheek. ‘I can’t believe it,’ she mused. ‘I’m here. I’m back in
my favourite place. I can finally move forward with my life.’ Looking down at
her clothes, she gave a tug at the hem of her black dress, with purple polka
dots, before lowering her sight to her lace up boots. ‘I’ve got my wand,’ she
told herself, as she slipped it back into her right boot, ‘And my hat,’ she
added, tugging on the brim of her pointed hat. ‘I think I’m good to go,’ she
decided with a nod.
Old memories of her time, as a student, in Hogwarts buzzed to the front
of her mind, as the red head made her way back through the castle and towards
the great hall. A rumble of chatter echoed down the corridor, as she neared the
entrance. Flickering her eyes, Josie seeped in a slow, deep breath, before
straightening her spine and pressing her shoulders back. ‘Make a good first
impression,’ she told herself, as she stepped inside. A sea of hundreds of
bodies spread out over four, long tables stretched out in front of her. None of
the students paid her much attention, as she turned towards the teacher’s
table, to her immediate right, at the front of the room. Her stomach swirled
around in a circumbendibus, as she approached the table full of some of the
most powerful witches and wizards in the world. A collection of eyes started at
her, as the chatter of students, to her left, grew. Forcing a swallow, Josie’s
insides began to spiral, as she told herself, ‘They’re all staring at me. They
know I’ve spent the last eight years around muggles, without practising magic.
Nobody thinks I should be here, that’s totally what they’re thinking.’ Feeling
her brows slant upwards, Josie lowered her head, shooting her eyes to the
floor.
“Nice to see you dear,” said Professor McGonagall, with a small smile,
as the red head approached the centre of the table.
“It’s good to see you too, Professor,” Josie managed to reply, feeling
her tongue scrape against the roof of her mouth, like sandpaper. Dropping a small
curtsey to the headmistress, Josie gave the witch her warmest smile.
“Neville told me you had arrived safely,” replied the headmistress, with
a nod. Professor McGonagall’s pointed emerald hat dipped, as she nodded at the
red head. “We shall have a catch up shortly, dear.” Pinching her lips in, Josie
nodded and continued along the row of teachers, spotting Neville sat one seat
from the end, who was talking away to the professor, in blue robes, on his
right.
As Josie slipped into her seat beside him, Neville informed her, “You’re
just in time,” with wide eyes, and a grin. “They’re about to bring the first
years in. I like the hat, by the way,” he added, as Professor McGonagall rose
from her seat and strode towards a small wooden podium in front of the
teacher’s table.
“Thanks,” Josie whispered back, as she felt her cheeks blush, from her
friend’s compliment.
The school’s headmistress welcomed the returning students back, before
greeting the new students, then the initiation ceremony commenced, of sorting
children into their houses. Looking over the students, both new and returning,
a warm smile broke out across the red head’s face, pleased to see so many young
faces, eager to learn.
With all of the students at their house’s tables, the headmistress
announced, “In addition to the new students, we also have two new professors
starting with us this year. Following Professor Flitwick’s retirement, I could
like you to welcome your new Charms teacher, and head of Ravenclaw House, Professor
Hayes.”
As the blond man in blue robes, sat on the other side of Neville, rose
from his seat, Josie’s lips parted as she stared at him. Her heart panged in
her chest. A flood of happy memories of a younger version of the man stood
before her, doing homework together in the library, cuddling in the Ravenclaw
common room and attending Quidditch matches together fluttered to the front of
her mind, as the great hall broke into a round of applause. Her vision blurred.
One more memory flickered to the front of her thoughts. Her heart shattering
into a million pieces, as she watched him kissing someone else. Memories of her
heart aching squeezed at her chest, for a moment, fluttering her from her
thoughts.
“Neville,” Josie hissed, clenching her hands into fists, at her sides,
as she shuddered out of her thoughts. “You didn’t tell me the new Charms
professor is Fabian,” she exclaimed, in a whisper, feeling her cheeks
heat up.
“I did say the new Charms teacher was called Professor Hayes,” he
mumbled over his shoulder, as the applause died down.
“Yes,” she hissed, “But how was I supposed to know that you meant him?”
As Fabian sat back down, Josie felt her lips part and her vision hazed, as she
stared at him.
“And Professor Sandbrook is your new Divination professor,” announced
Professor McGonagall.
“Stand up,” Neville whispered, giving her a nudge. Stuttering, Josie
shuddered out of her trance, before rising from her chair. With the entire hall
staring at her, the red head smiled, feeling her insides swirl around, as she gave
a small wave to the room.
“Is that Josie?” she heard Fabian asked Neville, as a knot tightened in
the pit of her stomach. Dropping back into her seat, Josie averted her eyes to
her lap, as her heart rapped at her ribcage.
As the feast began, and all eyes were no longer on her, Josie found
herself gazing around Neville, towards the Ravenclaw she once knew. Lines aged
his face, and his hair was no longer the bright, sandy blond that it once was,
streaked with grey hairs. Catching her gaze, Fabian gave her a warm smile.
Josie’s shoulder blades stiffened, as she darted her sight to her plate. “You
okay?” asked Neville, through a mouthful of potato.
“I’m fine,” she muttered, prodding at some peas, with her fork.
“You’ll have to talk to him eventually, you know,” Neville chuckled, at
her side.
“No, I don’t,” she mumbled, lowering her head, to try and hide from
Neville beneath the brim of her hat.
“Maybe it’s destiny,” suggested Neville, helping himself to more
potatoes.
“Destiny?” Josie repeated, with a puckered brow. “I haven’t spoken to
him since I was sixteen,” she reminded Neville. “I may be over Peter, but I
don’t know adult Fabian. What if he’s married?”
“He has no ring,” Neville whispered to her, jabbing her arm with his
elbow, as his eyebrows bounced.
“That doesn’t mean he isn’t seeing someone,” she hissed back, hunching
her shoulders and stiffening her spine.
“I’ll ask him,” Neville said with a shrug. “Say Fabian-”
“No!” she gasped, as her eyes shot wide. Sinking in her seat, Josie felt
her face turn to a colour matching the beetroot on her plate. A nervous squeak
escaped her, as she cupped her left hand to the side of her face, trying her
best to twist herself away from Neville and Fabian’s conversation.
“He’s not seeing anyone,” Neville cheered, elbowing Josie in the side
once more. Burying her head in her hands, Josie let out a groan. “He’s recently
single too. He’s come to Hogwarts for a new start, just like you. Oh look,
there’s Professor Strickland, I won’t be a minute. I just need to go and say
hello.”
“Neville,” Josie hissed, reaching a hand out to swipe at his sleeve, as
he strode past her. “Don’t leave me,” she cried, as Neville scooted around the
end of the table and tottered towards a tall man, I dark robes, on the other
side of the headmistress.
“Josie,” breathed Fabian, shuffling in his seat to twist around and face
her. “Wow, erm, what a surprise,” he muttered, prodding his right elbow on the
back of his chair and gripping his wrist with his left hand, as his cheeks
reddened. “I, I haven’t seen you since-”
“Since I caught you kissing Patricia Stimpson,” she murmured, as her brows slanted upwards.
“I was going to say, since graduating, but um, yeah, about that,” he
muttered, rubbing his right hand across the back of his neck.
“Don’t worry,” chuckled Josie, shaking her head. “It’s nice to see you
again,” she found herself saying, feeling her cheeks tingle with warmth.
“You too,” he replied, as his ears turned a deep scarlet. “So, erm, Divination?”
he said, with a puckered brow. “I never imagined the girl I knew back then
would be into such a thing. I would have thought you’d have gone for the Charms
job.” The red head shrugged.
“It’s been a means to survive,” she said, pinching her lips in, as she
gave another shrug.
“Always the fighter,” he mused, resting a hand upon hers. Feeling his
touch, Josie felt her face turn an even deeper shade of scarlet. As she
flickered her eyes towards his, the red head’s eyes widened, as she beamed back
at him. Fabian’s grin grew, as he found himself unable to break his gaze with
her. To anyone else in the room, it would appear that two professors were
frozen, as they stared at one another.
“I see you two have got reacquainted,” Neville chuckled, as he returned
to his seat.
“Yeah,” Josie muttered, sliding her hand out from under Fabian’s,
lowering her sight to her plate, as she dropped both of her hands to her lap.
“To a new year,” Fabian said, raising his goblet.
“To a new year,” Neville agreed, lifting his glass. Both sets of eyes looked
towards Josie.
“To a new year,” she said with a smile, raising her glass towards
theirs, with a clink.
- Josie -
