The new mistress of the York Manor emerged in the library fireplace amidst an ominous flare of emerald flames. Long legs carried her out of the extinguishing hearth before she lifted her wand to her braided hair, casting a stream of air to rid of Floo powder and chimney dust alike.
It had only been less than a week since she'd moved in. It was only natural that she should still mistake the address, especially when she attempted to cite it off the top of her head rather than read it off of the little card Ciceron had scribbled on for her reference.
At least, that was what Tamsin would like to chalk it up to. It wasn't as if she just had abhorrent luck with the Floo Network.
Which she did. Kind of. It was a little embarrassing.
It was very embarrassing.
The young woman discarded her satchel at the new desk that Ciceron had custom furnished for her before approaching the older male seated in a leather chair at his own desk. She slid down into his lap, clearly assured in his indulgence of her, and wrapped her arms around his neck so she might lean in to steal a kiss.
"Still at work, I see. Have you never heard of office hours, dear Ciceron?"