Love Potion
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Nor your sister. Nor that Doors CD in your room.
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"I went to school with your brother." Cigarette smoke raised to concrete ceiling. His lip curled at the sight of her mere dainty fingers holding onto a dirty smoking stick. "Didn't he tell you smoking kills?" His question lifted into the air dangerously. "No, but he did tell me I look sexy in pencil skirts."
His face turned beet red as she wiggled her hips, thin gray skirt following her movements. His eyes widened at the words she said, "One out of three witches have thoughts of love, lust and sex about their co - workers." The horn rimmed glasses man gulped soundly, heart beating faster as the lady in black lace gloves grabbed his spectacles and ran a hand through his mess of curly hair.
Those witches were right.
Mouth clashed with mouth, glasses fell to the floor. Percival pushed his secretary against the deck, took away her cigarette and stomped it from burning anything and spoke up. "Two out of three couples have sex in a office."