The sun streamed in through the domed skylights of Neville's office. An early summer breeze teased the stacks of parchment on his desk and he absently placed a paperweight on them to keep them fluttering away, looking up to see who had opened the door.
"Miss Daniels," he said, bowing his head to her. "Congratulations. Seven N.E.W.T.s is a great accomplishment."
"I suppose," she said, and Neville knew her tone all too well. He raised one eyebrow as she deliberately undid the clasp of her school robe and let it fall to the ground, revealing a thin cotton camisole and a skirt that left nothing to the imagination. "I'm not your student anymore, Neville," she continued, and he could tell it gave her an immeasurable thrill to use his first name.
He sat down behind his desk. "Maybe not, but I'm still married," he reminded her gently.
She sat down on the corner of the desk, her bare foot nudging playfully at his knee. "She doesn't have to know, does she?"
A crooked smile quirked Neville s lips. "Miss Daniels, what on earth makes you think that I'm married to a woman?"
He was surprised that she did not fall off the desk. Face burning, she stammered incoherently as she gathered her robe, then left his office without even a backward glance.
Neville smirked. He held up his wand, closed one eye for better aim, and marked another notch on the side of his bookcase.