HP-World Inspired Short

... They scramble after that, the woman pulling on tights, deftly doing up the laces of her boots. The man fumbles a bit with the buttons of his new robe, glancing over in her direction every so often in spite of himself. He wishes there was a way to make these last moments last, to somehow slow time so that he could enjoy the way her hair falls into her face, wild-like and amazing, the way sun filters into the room through the blinds, illuminating them - the last moments of this private reality before...

But there isn't, and she is running about as efficiently as if the place was her own, tying the hair back, cursing as she almost stumbles over some book haphazardly strewn on the floor, cursing some more as she gathers the last of her things, wand in wand pocket, eyes meeting his, glance at the clock, throat cleared meaningfully. The little blue man with the balloon in the hallway painting chuckles behind her.

He's locking the door when she mentions it.

"This won't work, you know."

"What?"

"This. Us. It will be awkward. One look at you and the others will bloody well know."

"What do you mean? I.."

"Your face is an open book. Everyone knows it, and even if they somehow didn't see, we're a team. This changes things. It could be dangerous for everyone."

"Well, what do you... I mean..."

"We could obliviate each other. Just this last night. It really wouldn't be much, you know, just a few hours..." His face registers shock.

"I really don't think that's a good idea.." he begins, but she cuts him off, insists, knowing that she shouldn't bully him so, with that puppy-eyed look he gives her, but then that look is the whole damned reason they are in this situation, the reason she should of known better than to agree to go for another drink with him in the first place.

He agrees in the end, with utter reluctance, a look that says he might change his mind at any moment. On three, then, they agree, wands pointed at each other. Just the last few hours. We had a drink and went home, agreed?

"One. Two..." And then a crack, a stunned look as the spell hits him. The woman knows she is even more unfair for this, for not waiting to the third number, for the lie . The deja vu feeling she's had since waking up,  her knowledge of her own nature - she is near-certain that this isn't the first or even the second time they've done this. Clearly, erasing her own memory doesn't stop her from making the same mistake again and again. This is only necessary. This time she will know better. Really, there's no reason at all she shouldn't be able to stay away; he's only a colleague, after all.

"See you in the office, then." she whispers, swallows hard, and dissaparates.

The man's eyes slowly travel up the white-flecked ceiling above him.

How in Merlin's name did I get into the corridor?