"I swear, Igor, if anybody—if we get caught—"
"Oh, come now." He smirked down at her, pressed warmly between the wall and his own body, the dusty cupboard illuminated only by light from his wand. "Surely you agree there are better things to do than Ministry paperwork?"
He bit her ear teasingly, and she stifled a giggle as his goatee tickled her neck. Even still, her wandtip pressed gently into his stomach.
"Nervous, are we?" he whispered.
"We're at work."
"Tch. So technical."
"You're a pain in the ass, Igor."
Or so she said. Ensuing behavior suggested otherwise.