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February 15th

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"Excuse me, ma'am?"

June looked up to greet the arrival in the office with a wide grin, automatic after the last few months faking happiness in the face of the misery wix brought to their doorstep. She chalked it up to practice that she didn't immediately fall out of her chair at the apparition of a man whom she was certain she'd never seen before, or else the fruitless crush on Malfoy would never have started.

Her smile morphed to genuine pleasure, red lipstick bright against pale teeth and skin. "Welcome to the Magical Detachment Facility, Mr…?"

"Zabini." The man's voice ran down her spine like melted candle wax. "Blaise Zabini, here for Draco Malfoy?"

"Do you have an appointment?" she asked, trying to stop her thoughts from straying, and failing. He's so damn fit, of course he's here for Malfoy. Two in three months, now, June, pull yourself together and stop falling for every beautiful man walking through those doors. She bought herself a few moments by rifling through her planner of all the appointments of the following week.

"We had a breakfast appointment, and he's never missed one before."

June bit her lip. Of course. Her luck would make it so the two men she'd found devastatingly attractive would find each other attractive and have regular breakfast dates.

"I'll check if he's in his office," she said. If her voice lost a few notes of sweetness, she couldn't be blamed.

At least she had another bottle of wine waiting in the flat, hidden in her bedside drawer.

The office was quieter now, as the last threat of snow disappeared outside and those with children chatted animatedly about their offspring returning for the Easter holiday. There was never a lack of appointments for the consultants, but without such an emotionally heavy holiday, the department wasn't as overwhelmed. She kept her head down towards the dingy carpet to avoid eye contact with anyone who might ask her to do something for them, reminding herself only two more weeks of interning here before applying for other departments that needed more than secretaries who collected coffee and paperwork.

"Mr Malfoy, you have a visitor - oh, my god!"

Typically she'd knock before entering, but privacy was a joke in their small makeshift office with walls barely taller than her average height. So, her surprise at witnessing a very occupied Draco snogging the Auror on his lap, was more than warranted.

Her voice died in her throat and she moved swiftly back to her desk, standing on the same side as Blaise, realizing at the back of her awareness that he was easily a full head and a half taller than her, even without the hat he had tucked under his arm. She was quiet enough that it didn't seem her coworker and his apparent consort had any clue she'd almost walked in on them. Cheeks aflame with shock, she cleared her throat and explained herself without looking up.

"He's got an eleven o'clock, I'm afraid."

"Does he now?"

Really, that voice should be a registered weapon.

June looked up in time to see Blaise's gaze craning over to get a better view of the desk in the furthest corner. He was tall enough to see enough, as his gaze suggested.

"That bastard owes me fifty Galleons," he said, more to himself. June was certain he'd forgotten she was even there, a self-satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his full lips, until he turned that sparking look towards her. "Pity, that I've missed him this time. Do me a favor and let him know I dropped by, and he had better not miss Thursday as well."

She'd already committed the words to memory, mesmerized as she was, but she nodded and jotted a few notes down in her planner dutifully. "Was there anything else this department could assist you with, Mr Zabini?" June winced at the canned tone of her voice, the phrase cascading off her tongue in a pre-rehearsed ramble.

"Just one thing, Miss…?"

"June Jenkins."

"Miss June Jenkins," Blaise repeated smoothly. "A lovely name for a lovely woman. Would you do me the favor of joining me for lunch, today? I am a man of routine and I'm woefully lacking a companion for a meal for the day."

The man looked at her hungrily, and she couldn't tell if it were something meant to steal her breath away, or plant ideas in her head like the one blossoming about maybe not coming back from lunch and exploring all the sordid uses of an empty Ministry office, proper silencing and locking charms cast, of course.

She found she didn't care if it were the former, latter, or both.

A slow blink from the man whose eyes she was staring into worked as well as a slap to the face. Imploring her mouth to form the words, she blurted, "Of course!"

Brilliantly white teeth appeared in a wide smile, and she imagined for a moment a forked tongue flicking between those monuments to oral hygiene. "Excellent."

Maybe that wine would be saved for a different night.