Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
(pretty sure wattpad glitched again so these may be out of order!!)
"Let me read it!" Evan whispers as he snatches the book from her hand.
They are in Defense Against the Dark Arts, ostensibly engaged in work, though she always manages to finish her assignments swiftly, leaving them time to chat.
"Wait—" She attempts to reclaim the book before he delves into its contents.
But alas, it is too late.
Evan's eyes widen as he peruses the book, a choked gasp escaping his lips, his gaze darting across each line.
"Josette... this is..."
"Oh, shut up," she retorts, swiftly retrieving the book and shutting it tight. "I didn't tell you to read it, did I?" With a deft movement, she slips the book into her bag.
Evan chuckles, though his eyes remain slightly widened.
"That's surprisingly not my worst book," she remarks, Evans eyes grow even wider.
Josie stifles her laughter as best she can. It feels good to share a laugh with Evan again.
As the class comes to an end, she gathers her belongings, preparing to depart when the professor calls her name.
"Josephine Potter, please stay for a moment longer."
Glancing at Evan, Josephine reassures him. "It's alright, I'll catch up with you later." Evan hesitates briefly before nodding and exiting the room.
Now she is alone with the professor.
Charlie Rivers is younger than most of the faculty, though she knows his tenure might be brief, as is often the case with Defense Against the Dark Arts professors.
He sits at his desk, sifting through papers with a focused demeanor.
She feels a surge of nerves. What could he possibly want? She hasn't veered from her academic duties.
"Please, take a seat," the professor gestures to the chair opposite his desk.
Though her gaze narrows slightly, she complies, fidgeting with her nails.
As the professor settles the papers down, he laces his fingers together, straightening in his chair to meet her eyes. "I'm aware you're the one who sent those two boys to St. Mungo's," he states bluntly.
Josie's grip on the chair tightens. How did he find out?
That means he must have been watching—
He must have witnessed what happened to Mary.
Her eyes narrow. "If you're considering reporting me, you'll have to admit you didn't intervene to prevent their harm. You'd have to acknowledge your complicity in Mary's ordeal," she retorts, her tone icy.
