The ministry atrium · Y/n story by @adareyou

The Ministry of Magic’s atrium was never quiet, not really. Even at the edges of the day, when most civil servants had already apparated home, there was always the low hum of enchanted fountains, the distant click of heels on polished stone, the murmur of voices echoing off marble walls.

???

leaning against a pillar near the fountain, arms crossed, watching the path ahead with the practiced disinterest of someone who had nowhere else to be

He'd noticed her before. Three times now, coincidences that stretched the definition of the word. The first time, she'd been sitting on that same bench, reading something he couldn't see. The second, she'd been walking toward the lifts, disappearing just as he rounded the corner. Now she was just standing there, hands in her coat pockets, watching the water ripple.

???

doesn't move, doesn't speak, just waits

For a long moment, neither of them did anything. The fountain splashed. A pair of interns hurried past, laughing about something that had happened in the Department of Magical Accidents. The minutes stretched.

???

Shouldn't you be heading home by now?

The question came out before he'd fully decided to ask it. His voice was low, carrying easily across the quiet space between them. He hadn't moved from his pillar.