1830 hours, Office of Evangeline Kuester


Solomon wore dishevelment better than most men wore their dress robes. He knew this, of course, and you could tell by the way he'd made his way from level two - with the pretence of quiet confidence. The posture of a wizard who hadn't in fact spent the entire day cooped up in his office putting together notes for what he hoped would be a comprehensive working board for peculiar criminal activity in the past year.

He saw the world through his black spectacle frames, unconscious borders guiding him down corridors of Ministry employees taking their leave for the day.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Solomon leaned against the door frame of Evangeline's office, hands in his pockets as he stared into the room with a broad and warm smile. Greetings were unnecessary.

Not when you can pick up from where you left off. Naturally he knew Kuester through their professional interaction... as well as from before. Before sanity was restored to the wizarding world (although only for it to go spiralling away in this decade!). There had been something there - oh yes, he was exceedingly good at discerning somethings in general - and only an idiot would not realise how much of a looker she was. Some might praise her eyes but it was her lips that did it for him.

It did help that she wasn't a bloody lawyer anymore. Irene would argue that lawyers were in fact a breed and you never quit being one but his wife had never got on with that sort of thing. Even if she did like Eva.

"The office suits you." He didn't spare a glance from the witch to even confirm the decor. "Have you been settling in well?"

As an assistant to the minister and in no uncertain terms, a legal advisor, it was or the first time since returning to England 18 months ago that Evangeline felt her work was utilising her skills effectively. Before she hadn’t felt challenged or enjoyed her profession. Now she believed she was actually doing something worthwhile and was already proving herself useful in the new position that had been carved out for her. Work hours were unfortunately longer but she was becoming rather adept at switching off when she left level one.

When Solomon darkened her door, Eva had been thumbing through an enormous tome on dementor rights and abilities. It wasn’t pleasant reading for a witch who’d been locked in a cell surrounded by the for a year and therefore the wizard’s appearance was rather more appreciated than it would have been at any other hour.

Bright blue eyes snapped up to greet the handsome face and her pale lips twisted into a genuine smile. During the past 18 months they had barely interacted but she remembered him well from before the war. It was also no secret between the pair that she’d have remembered him even better had she not wished to remain faithful to a husband that hadn’t shown her the same courtesy. She’d always known Carstairs to be an unfaithful charmer but it hadn’t stopped the flirting.

“Auror Carstairs.” She was aware of the change during the preceding week but she’d always known him as an auror. “Better than an office in your department?” Back in the day people had thought her trouble. Defence lawyers weren’t a popular breed with aurors; especially good ones.
“Well, it is your department now.” Apparently the job drew handsome but unfaithful men. “Congratulations.”

Solomon took her acknowledgement as invitation enough to abandon the doorway, stepping lightly and leisurely into the office as he laughed at the rejoinder. It suited her (and him) better that she occupied a position on level one. Kuester was much too good a lawyer for any head of department to want to deal with legal prowess of that standard.

Better the incompetent ones for the Aurors, Merlin bless their savage souls.

He stopped at one of the shelves and pretended to make a study of its tomes.

"Thank you. Can't say I possess any true sense of ownership." Solomon glanced at Eva with a half smile, a glint in his eye that made him look a little younger. "From what I understand, that's something I shall have to earn over the months. If they let me." His tone of voice spoke for the unpredictable and sometimes cantankerous ways of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Nothing the witch did not already know. Any amount of flirting with Evangeline would prove to the dullest blade that she wasn't worth the dishonour of condescension. Solomon never had to explain anything to her, and while he did take pleasure in profiting from being the older counterpart of any social education, it was always a relief not to have to do that around this particular woman. Her very aura forbid it.

"Doing homework, are you?" He approached the desk without pretence as he eyed the open book interestedly. "Would have thought you knew everything on the subject. Or are we anticipating more Dementor attacks?" Solomon's manner was far from businesslike in spite of the topic. "Do tell me off, if you'd rather not talk shop."

Stalking further into the small office and closer to her desk, all 5”11’ of the handsome wizard cast a shadow over the tome. He glanced down at her work through a pair of thickly rimmed spectacles and Eva’s eyes danced over his expression, wondering exactly what the newly appointed Head of Law Enforcement wanted in her office. She didn’t consider the possibility of it being a social visit considering the long time it had been since they’d been on first name terms discussing cases late at night over an inadequate takeaway.

A closer inspection revealed he’d aged since then. He’d aged well, but the decade was noticeable. Eva didn’t appear physically middle-aged. She didn’t have wrinkles or greys, yet she felt mentally haggard. Life hadn’t served her particularly well.

“Well,” Eva sat forward, resting her elbows on the desk. “Unlike aurors or, merlin, wizards, I like to top up my knowledge. You can never know everything.” Aurors tended to disagree. But Eva didn’t linger on that point. Instead she pushed her chair back slightly from the desk and brushed a stray blond back from her face as she eyed Solomon carefully. She remembered him and his charm too well.

“What do you want?” Her foreign accent lilted her words. “The minister is busy and the undersecretary is probably sleeping a hangover off under a rock somewhere. I doubt you’ve come up here to compliment me on how I match the purple carpet.”

"You can never know everything."

He made an amused sound, not in disagreement but with the manner of a man who had to pretend that he knew nearly everything if the world was to go on turning the way it does. Solomon glanced up from his upside down perusal of a vexing paragraph about Dementor legislation, watching the witch fix him with a look. No beating around the bush, then.

That suited him. "You do match the purple carpet. I'd have to see you against it to be certain but I don't think there many colours that don't become you, Senior Assistant..." he trailed off before reaching out to slip a bookmark into her tome before shutting it smoothly.

There was something very palatable about knowing one's intention is being mistaken for another. The wizard didn't want anything from Evangeline Kuester, at least not in an official capacity. It was only the pleasure of her company that he sought for. Company was important to Solomon. The right sort always invigorated him. Hang about with the same lot all the time and you're bound to feel the senses dull, the thoughts swimming around in the same unimaginative circles. Even Level Two  lived in its own intellectual stupor. As any department with a bubble of knowledge.

He sighed, nodding his head away from the desk and towards the exit. "Dinner." Solomon smiled as he came to his point at last. "Nourishment. Wine. Zephyr and Holmes are pleasant but I'd much rather it were you I take out tonight. We can catch up." It was hours still until he was expected home, being the early days of accepting his new position.

Time to spare for a little fun. What was the point of all this tragedy if they couldn't enjoy the moments in between?

Solomon had the cheek the close the large tomb that had previously held Eva’s attention. A blonde eyebrow shot up as she watched him carefully, suspiciously. Carstairs was a charmer. He was a wizard who appreciated women and yet had a wife of his own. Or rather, Eva presumed he still had a wife. She wasn’t going to allow herself to believe she was the only witch he asked to dinner. From what she remembered, Sol wasn’t the sort of wizard to settle for one witch.

So why was she considering it?

“There’s very little to catch up on on my half.” Her voice was calm as her fingers lingered on the desk, unsure whether to stand and leave with him. Was it just a catch up? How much did she respect herself? How much of the old Sol that had very nearly tempted her before was still there? How much did she want some fun?

Trying to feel a little more comfortable, Eva leaned forward on the desk, resting elbows on the wood.
“I’m afraid I am very boring conversation.”