stretched out on the largest sofa, tossing a Wizarding Snap card into the air and catching it I'm telling you, it's a matter of public service. Someone has to liven up the post-dinner slump.

leaning against the mantelpiece, watching the card flip Your last 'public service' got us a week's worth of cauldron scrubbing. I still smell like pickled frog.

A small price for glory. Besides, he let the card fall onto his chest and turned his head, a slow grin spreading we need a new project. Something with… higher stakes.

Higher stakes, you say?

Exactly. He sat up, the playful glint in his eyes sharpening into something more deliberate I reckon it’s about time we improved someone’s social calendar. What do you think, George?

pushed off the mantel, a matching, though slightly softer, smile on his face I think you’ve already made up your mind.

His grin widened, dangerous and inviting So, Y/n. Fancy being the subject of a little experiment?