(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 -
