“...and that’s how work has been.” Smirking a little, Casper glanced over the board while one hand scratched Whisky’s head absentmindedly, getting between and around the ears for good measure. Lounging in the chair, he was as comfortable as he could possibly be. Good company (minus Balfour’s cats), conversation, and wizards chess. Plus he had the weekend off, and it was Friday night; it seemed the perfect way to get started.

The honey-do list only grew longer the longer Molly and he lived in their home. He could start on the next request tomorrow.

Casper was grateful to be in a marriage where his wife understood he needed ‘guy time.’ They could each do their own thing, on occasion, and it wasn’t going to make or break their relationship. Plus, he’d known Balfour for years, and so in retrospect, so did Molly. Everyone was acquainted! If she knew they placed harmless bets on the occasional chess game or whatever was on the wireless playing, then perhaps she was more tolerable than most.

Work wasn’t the biggest topic on his mind, but it was the most obvious. Wiping muggle memories could be tedious and meticulous. He wrote and reviewed more reports than he wanted. The field was there, but some of the managerial tasks were left to the Senior Obliviators. When crisis happened, though, Casper was always eager to put his jacket on and get to business. Anything to get out of the office and enjoy a breath of fresh air.

With his legs crossed, Casper was as relaxed as he could be. The sleeves of his shirt were pushed up towards his elbows. Giving the dog a pat, a signal that the rub down was finished for now, Casper finally smirked. “Rook to A3. How’s work for you?” Glancing up to Balfour, he lightly clasped his hands in his lap. A couple of pawns had all ready been destroyed, pieces dragged off to the side as the game played on.

If Molly had known what sort of bets went on, she might have been a little more than angry. Casper had a hard time resisting, though, especially when he thought that he could double his investment. It was solid thinking!

Balfour crossed his legs, leaning back in the armchair thoughtfully.

He propped his head up in a hand and glanced from Whisky - blissfully happy at Casp's side - to the other wizard. The fireplace crackled, winds sighed bitterly outdoors. The kittens could be heard unraveling some thing or another in the foyer. This was a nice change of pace from bureaucracy and dragons; speaking of which...

"It's, uh, great," he muttered distractedly and scratched his chin. "I still manage to pop up and see the paddocks when there isn't too much-" Balfour made a dismissive gesture. "- paperwork. Castle to H5."

The black castle slid forward across the board. One of the newts waited for it before scurrying past the pieces to the other side, deft and barely noticed. Heading his division was a different job from being a part of it but he didn't like to complain. Mrs Lanningham was efficient and they rarely had to stay late at the office.

"The programme hasn't been bad either," he added before glancing up at Casper with a mirthless smile. "I had a bit of a laugh listening to the Werewolf Wing after the Valentine's episode.[1]"

Balfour leaned forward for his glass, taking a sip of the port.

1.	The Haunting Hour, 14th Feb.

The chill of outside ebbed away while sitting near the fire. It was a comfort, in addition to the chair and the company, that Casper was all too happy to have. The light it gave off waned across his mate and the board. Casper glanced over options, calculating different moves and what it might end up. It was relaxing, being able to focus on the game at hand.

Eyebrows rose at Balfour’s excitement in his work. Smirking as he watched him over the board, Casper’s hand moved over to pick up his drink. “There is a bit of that. I’m sure as Head,  you are thrilled with paperwork.” If he thought he had it bad, reading reports and fixing mistakes, all he had to do was remind himself of what Balfour was doing. Or even his own boss, for that matter.

No thank you. After taking a sip of the his drink, enjoying the different taste as he moved it around his mouth, the glass was set back down with a soft clink. Fingers steepled in front of his face while elbows rested on the arms of the chair. “Pawn to G4.” If only to keep Balfour on his toes.

Eyes moved from the board, having watched his piece move to its location, to his mate’s smile. “I listened in. I can’t say I don’t disagree, the safe houses should be better watched. Why they don’t keep photos with their records is beyond me... though what you were doing broadcasting instead of out on a date is also baffling.” Even if Molly’s brother was a direwolf, it didn’t mean Casper felt all understanding of werewolves and their registry. His name was in the system as a Ministry employee, why shouldn’t theirs be?

Thinking of how rowdy certain employees might have been after the broadcast, however, did make him laugh lightly. He moved his hands back down to his lap as he tilted his head. “Were they howling for your head?”

Balfour tried not to choke on his drink at the mention of a date.

He placed the glass down, smiling ruefully. "It was too good an opportunity-" his eyes slid to the chess board with a look both kind and calculative. "- lonely hearts on Valentine's night, listening to the radio."

He couldn't have imagined a better audience: ideas nourished the lonesome. The wizard changed positions, sitting forward with elbows on his knees. In the corner of his eyes, he could see the kittens totter in and a hand moved down instinctively in greeting.

"They would , if they knew it were me." Balfour laughed . Luna and Matahari nuzzled bit on his fingers, so he pulled them both up on to his lap. "Thanks the gods for that. Rook to E3."

A wee bit voice alteration went a long way on the Wireless. The kittens clawed at his jeans as he scratched their ears, oblivious to the pain. Whisky whined at them.

"Can't have anyone at the Ministry coming in here when I say something too sharp, eh?" A cutting smile at Casper while the rook hopped along. "Obliviators knocking at my door, Thursby calling in with questions..." he winked.

“Not all who were listening were lonely.” If he had made Molly wait up to listen to it, that was because he supported his friend. That, and he found it entertaining. It was a nice change of pace from the melodrama of the Daily Prophet, or any other news source he focused in on. Sometimes it was nice to hear someone make light of something dark.

Focusing on a running joke, Casper gave Balfour as innocent a smile as he could muster. “I could still set you up with Gertie Poole. She seems right up your alley, very... wholesome. Plus she knows her stuff.” She was probably older than both of their ages combined, and then some.

Eyes rolled and a short laugh followed. “I meant the you as in the anonymous host.” He could only imagine what would happen to his dear friend if people knew who really put the ideas out on the wireless. The idea of Thursby showing up sent a shiver down his back, one that he couldn’t contain. Shaking it out, he shifted in his chair and uncrossed his legs, nudging the husky, rubbing his belly with a a socked foot.

“Pawn to H5.” Casper was surprised he was able to get that one in, watching the pawn crush the castle. He grinned in triumph, knowing he had left a pawn open to Balfour. “You’ve all ready let one Obliviator in. And you never know if he’s gone and done something to your mind.” If he had, Casper would always win their bets. Still, talking about himself in the third person was simpler than explaining all of that.

He continued the attention to Whisky with his foot, leaning forward in his chair, an elbow on the arm as the last of the rook was swept aside.

---

Gertie Poole: NPC Ministry of Magic Librarian [per Jess, she's a "crone with attitude"]

His shoulders shook with laughter as Casper brought up Gertie again.

"I don't know if one man is enough for Miss Poole," they did love to tease the witch who, through some act of mercy, never hexed them for it. "Besides-" Balfour glanced at Luna as the cat began scaling his right arm. "- I'm going out for drinks tomorrow night. Perhaps I'll meet someone less wholesome~"

Even that mild intimation of flirting burnt his ears. He didn't walk into a pub looking to pick up witches; something his friend knew rather well. Matahari started on the other arm and he tried to ignore the pair, concentrating on the board. A shame about the castle.

"Knight to C3. That's what Whisky is for!" Balfour leaned back. "He's not going to let the evil Obliviator get me, are you boy?" The husky whimpered- far too preoccupied by Casper's attentions. "Perfect," he clucked his tongue in mock disappointment. "I shall have to rely on tweedle-dee and dum here."

The kittens managed his shoulders now like little twin devils angels. "How is Molly, by the way?" Balfour smiled fondly at his friend- an unsubtle question to shift talk of love life in the other direction.

“Well that much is obvious. I think she has half the Department of Mysteries after her. And not just for her books either. You’ve got some competition, Balfour.” He did, however, give his mate an approving look, nodding his head a little. “We can only hope. Molly will keep her fingers and toes crossed, I’m sure.” She would be ecstatic if Casper’s friend had a friend and they could all be friends for dinner.

Double dating, especially in your thirties, could still be entertaining. It was just harder to find couples who could hang out that weren’t bogged down with life or children or something else that came up. Casper didn’t acknowledge the suddenly red ears, focusing momentarily on his glass as he took another long sip.

Chuckling a little dryly, Casper shook his head as if he couldn’t believe Balfour would put all his eggs in the Whisky basket. “Do you not see how I subdue the human companion?” As if to prove a point, he continued to scratch Whisky’s belly, hearing the muffled thump of his tail on the ground. He made a face at the kittens. “I don’t understand why you went all woman and found yourself a couple of cats.”

He stared at the board a moment, leaning forward as he analyzed the best course of action. His bishop could take out the other rook, but he had to defend his king, and that meant holding on to his queen. “Knight to C3.” At least a pawn was in the way of Balfour's remaining rook. Leaning back in the chair again, he resumed the petting of Whisky while focusing on Balfour’s question, ignoring the knight battle on the chess board.

Smiling as he thought of his wife, Casper picked his drink up again. “She’s well.” The sticky toffee pudding he’d brought over had been a greeting from her, after all. That woman was always baking. Having to wait sometimes for the goodies she made helped one practice delayed gratification. He had almost asked her for chocolate chip cookies instead, but didn’t want to risk hurting her feelings. She had put quite a bit of time into the dessert as it were.

“Working harder than she needs to. Plus the house is keeping her busy.” It had nearly been a year, and it seemed as if there was never any end to the work they could do to it. Sometimes it was nice to just get away. "She did want to know when you would be coming by for dinner."

---

Dessert

In unison, Luna and Matahari turned their furry little heads to hiss in Casper's general direction, nearly tottering off their master's broad shoulders. Balfour smirked but kept his eyes on the game with a knitted brow.

"I didn't find them, they found me-" he explained absently, "- and it's rather nice when they're not hurting anyone." One of the wee monsters was chewing on his earlobes as it was, remorselessly. Its sibling leapt off, treading stealthily Whisky's direction.

It would only be adorable for another three or four months: before their real bites developed.

"Rook to E4," Balfour finally looked up from the board and regarded the other man amiably. He was fond of Molly; her desserts appealed to the wizard's best kept secret at the department- an inexcusably sweet tooth. Really, he enjoyed anything soft to sink his teeth into.

The wizard leaned forward and sprung to his feet - Luna fell - before lifting their empty glasses. "Am I welcomed to dinner on my own?" he turned his back to Casper, addressing the drinks table: "Or does she insist I bring a date?"

Casper had two perfect reasons hissing at him to not like cats. They were still kittens and had growing to do. They had time to grow into their ferocious nature. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes; the classic they found me, they saved me bull. “Which I haven’t seen them not do.” They were hurting him right then, if not as badly as they could have. Casper hadn’t missed the small looks of pain that passed Balfour’s face!

Felines were stubborn creatures with minds of their own who would eat your face if you let them. That was how he felt most of the time. Molly loved cats, though, and it was part of loving her to accept them in his life. Even if he joked about sending them all somewhere else.

Frowning as he looked up momentarily at Balfour, he considered options. His rook destroyed the pawn he came behind; he was allowed minor victories. Nothing was close enough to take out the rook without endangering one of his important pieces. “Rook to F3.” He watched as it slid across the entire board. If he could get in through a pawn, he could take care of a bishop.

If he had some entertainment out of watching the little kitten tumble, he kept it to himself. It easily righted itself up, after all. Leaning back, Casper recrossed his legs as he considered with a smirk, leaning the side of his head in his hand as the elbow dug into the chair. “She would love for you to bring a date, but of course you’re welcome on your own.” While Balfour worked on drinks, Casper stretched out, arms high over head as his legs went under the table.

Once properly stretched, he shifted in the chair and tapped his lip thoughtfully. “What about the dating ads in the Daily Prophet?” Now he was just having a bit of fun. Grinning, Casper lightly clasped his hands together behind his head while leaning back comfortably.

With his back to the game, Balfour listened to his friend's move across the board- he attempted to visualise it, hands busy topping up their beverages. A bishop was endangered but there was yet his left flank rook in the way. Rook against a rook? Something had to be done about that.

Drinks in hand, the wizard turned back to their table and handed one to Casper. A tickled smile pulled at his lips.

"Oh yes," Balfour sat down with a sportive laugh. "Excellent idea. I can just see it now-" he raised a hand, narrating into the distance. "Dashing dragon handler in his early 30s, seeking companionship. No allergies. Must not mind kittens, Huskies or being inopportunely Obliviated."

Whisky emanated a low growl at this and he stopped short, grinning brashly.

"Knight to F3." The dark figure on the board hopped over a newt (a different one) who'd come to rest in the centre, to take Casper's predatory rook. Balfour rested back with a sigh that had nothing to do with their wager. He crossed his ankles. "You can tell Molly I'll be over whenever's convenient for her. I'm sure Whisky will come with me, if a witch won't~"

Casper accepted the drink, smirking over the edge before taking a sip, watching Balfour’s dramatics. “Really, no allergies?” An eyebrow rose in surprise, licking his lips before setting the glass down. “I wouldn’t say inopportunely... It’s really a game. If you come out with remembering what happened, then you played well.” Motioning to the board, his eyebrows rose. As if to prove it true.

He gave Molly a hard time about his job. They were playful jabs, empty threats; as if he could truly obliviate the love of his life. Unless she saw something really terrible. And there was the catch; that line of trust that he continually nudged. Some day, she might not believe his intentions were completely innocent.

Crying wolf, or some similar idiom. Though, if he did actually wipe her memory, she wouldn’t remember. It was a rather unfortunate conundrum.

Luckily he was a fairly honest person. Casper held himself to a higher set of morals when it came to his job. Everything else, however, was fair game. “And if you don’t remember at all, then you played too well.” He playfully pointed at Balfour over the chessboard, winking mockingly.

He watched the Knight-wait, wait, did he just miss-mouth dropped open as he sat forward suddenly. Casper needed to keep his attention on the game; Balfour was tricky. Closing his mouth, he frowned as he watched his rook smashed to pieces. “Hm...” His pointing finger tapped his lips in thought. So much for thinking this game was going to easily be his.

“You can bring Whisky whether you have a date or not. I’ll need something to entertain me while Molly questions whomever you bring.” She was sweet, really, but sometimes that woman used a lot of words when she didn’t need to. “Just about any weekend should work. But I’ll let you know what she says.” He was in check again. This really wasn’t what he wanted. Playing defense didn’t work as well as one might think. If he had to constantly parry Balfour’s moves, then he couldn’t set his own offense up.

“Knight to F3.” He watched it move from its home on the board to attack the offending check piece. Now he just had to worry about the rook at E4, but if he played his pieces right, he could take it out the next turn. Though he was sure Balfour would think to take it away so his other knight at C3 couldn’t easily nab it. “I think someone needs to write your classified ad. You won’t give it enough flair.”

His eyes lit up as he finally leaned back into his chair. Hands came up in the air to dramatically give way for his ad for his good mate. “Mediocre Wizard Chess player who attempts to juggle a department and dragons. Can breathe fire, but probably won’t. Seeking a desperate female companion for dinner dates and snuggling. Did I mention I’m part woman? I have cats.” Casper picked up his drink and air cheered Balfour from his chair, smirking. "Maybe not desperate. Single? Unattached?

Balfour reckoned there wouldn't be a good close to this game, though he knew better than to surrender before the very last.

"Interrogation over dinner," his lips twisted into a smile- being able to imagine it very well. "Best not put that in the ad. The dragons might be enough to scare them off." Not that he would be interested in anyone who would bolt at the first sign of danger. They didn't live in a world that afforded such a luxury.

Sighing thoughtfully, Balfour ran a hand through his hair. The kittens had gotten to the fireplace and were mesmerized by it. A nice change from unravelling a favoured cardigan. He glanced away from them, back to the board.

"Rook to E6." A retreat on that end before rallying a final attempt. "Your special brand of flair isn't going to help-" he looked up and raised a humourless eyebrow. "- I don't need to look good on paper, my difficulty is usually in-person."

Even as he said it Balfour knew it was an exaggeration. He had been in relationships before and had little difficulty with romantic interests... after getting to know them. The grey area before that was perilous, fraught with awkward turns of the tongue and mind.

"Are you and Molly terribly busy next month, by the way?" He made a blatant shot at a change of subject. "The Spectres are holding a private ceilidh up north[1]. It could be interesting."

1.	Balfour's hometown is Edinburgh, Scotland.

“I thought the ladies enjoyed excitement.” Obviously that was what drew Molly to Casper. Because wiping the minds of defenseless muggles was so dangerous. Still, they had their complications. It might not have been fire-breathing dragons, but there were enough potential disasters in a day of field work to keep an Obliviator busy and on their toes.

“And you should really make sure they can handle a Molly interrogation prior to bringing them along.” In fact, Casper was looking forward to his brother-in-law bringing his girlfriend over for a dinner party. If what he had heard was true, the girl was in for quite a few innocently placed questions.

Casper turned his attention only briefly to the cats, considering whether to encourage their play closer or farther away from the fire. If they ended up further away from him, that was perfect. He blinked back to the board to watch the retreat, a small smirk slipping on his lips. “Balfour, you just need to have a drink before you go on a date. Then you’ll be fine.” And before every chess game. Speaking of... Casper took another sip of his drink.

“Huh?” For a moment, he was so caught up in the board he didn’t process the question. “Next month? No... I believe we’re available.” Setting his glass down, Casper grinned and raised an eyebrow as he turned his gaze back to his mate. “That sounds interesting. I’m sure we can go; Molly would love that.”

Another glance at the board as he weighed options. “Queen to A4, check.” Once again his foot found Whisky’s underside, rubbing it. “My father is looking to get a nice sized pool for the World Cup this year.” Around the Cup was when Casper heard the most from Ludo. Held every four years, it had a lot of potential for craziness. “It would start with who everyone thinks will make it in, of course.” That had been going off and on since the last cup, though, and would only get more intense as they came closer to the game.

“Lot of potential for striking galleons.”

Balfour failed to stifle a derisive snort at his friend's suggestion of drinking before a date.

"Yes, one drink- or two, or three..." he trailed off, taking a draft of his port without much tasting it. "That could go more ways than one." Namely up or down.

It was good to know, at least, that Casper and Molly would probably be at the Ceilidh. He adored a good frolic in the highlands; even when it didn't involve a dragon. London was suffocating compared to the open spaces of Edinburgh. The callous gales- the sloping streets. He shifted sitting positions, smiling wistfully.

The white Queen stared down his Patriarch.

"World Cup, eh? Molly must be thrilled about that." Balfour glanced up from the board intelligently. "King to E7. You're a bad influence on me, I hope you know that. Although... even with all that potential..."

Smoothly, his King moved, and he plucked up one of the newts from the board before leaning back into the armchair. It slithered swiftly between his digits, coiling around his wrist.

"I'm actually putting away some galleons this year-" he frowned, as if though tasting something bitter. "- for the show, and then some. Thinking about a proper home." Now that Balfour's job paid much better, it was something to think about. A permanent place. "Growing up, old boy."

A drink didn’t seem a half bad idea for Balfour before a date. Leaning back in the chair, a hand found its way to the back of his neck, elbow dangling in the air as Casper smirked. “You could add a new segment to your radio show. Embarrassing stories to share.”

Molly and Casper worked as a couple, almost always, which was what he considered perfect. Casper loved his wife. He was happily married (most days). There were things about her that drove him nuts, though. Just as he did things that she couldn’t stand. Being a fairly reserved guy, Casper could become easily frustrated with Molly when she let her emotions out for everyone to see. Knowing someone so well doesn’t make it easier to live with them day in and day out.

That she was often in her own daydream could exasperate him, especially when Casper wanted her attention right then. Still, they laughed a lot, and he did love her heart. And the stories she could come up with at the drop of a hat always amazed him. Her imagination was as endless as the litter he had to buy.

The cats were another point that irked him to no end. Still, one of his biggest faults (and Casper was aware of it, but found it hard to stay away) was his gambling. A little here and there was ok, but the World Cup... it was hard to resist. It wasn’t like he was his father. Balfour’s mention of Molly caused an involuntary frown to slip on to his face. However brief it was, it gave light to something under the surface. Turning his attention to his drink, picking it back up, Casper forced a smile on his lips. It was luck that Balfour was focused on the board.

“Me?” Caserp was incredulous, laughing before taking a sip. They were most likely as equally a bad influence on one as the other. Raising an eyebrow, Casper rested his glass on his thigh, finger tapping it lightly against the side. “That doesn’t necessarily make you a grown up.” He smirked as he shifted in the chair, taking another sip before setting the glass aside. “Just forces you to have more bills. That you could potentially pay off with a well-placed bet.”

And there was the rub. If you could pay off something, or have extra spending money, or justify a bet in any way... then it helped feed the desire to gamble. Molly wanted to fix up one of the rooms in their home (which still felt new in that he had a lifetime left to pay for it). If he could add more funds to that goblin bank and make her happy because they could remodel at her whim, then why not try?

Staring briefly at the board, Casper considered which plan of attack he wanted to start. After a moment’s consideration, he grinned. “Biship to G5.” Balfour's queen was blocked by the king, plus Casper's knight was backing up the bishop in case it was taken. “Check.”