Work parties were the worst invention of wizardkind and Marlena included self-cleaning socks in that list; the only thing more unpleasant than one’s feet being soapy and wet because the magic inevitably malfunctioned was having to make extra small talk with people whose small talk bored you to tears through the working week. At least it could not last forever, she thought, as she glanced at the clock for the second time in as many minutes, though it was doing a reasonable impression of something that could.

One more drink and she would floo home.

At least her colleagues were suffering too – Miss Whitledge and Mrs Moony looked moments away from committing murder and Watson seemed happy enough talking to his fiancé but he had been waylaid and the woman was walking towards her instead. It was then, and only then, Marlena realised she recognised the woman.

“Effie?”

She looked the same as she had at school, although Lena had never thought to see her with a man on her arm; she had also assumed some things did not change with age.

“Is that really you?”

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MJ: still raising the graphics bar as of 2022