A sharp flick of her wand repaired the clock, another provided her with a steaming mug of coffee and a third shorted the pile of reports again. Not that they needed sorted, she knew what each of them were, make this sound good or that look good or make the people see that it is perfectly alright for so and so to be seen gambling or with this woman or that woman. Truth be told Aoife often wondered if she could not make more money working for herself, preserving the veneers of the rich and famous for a small fee. Merlin knew most of them needed it, the old families, proud and foolish. A dying breed with their support dying with them. Aoife could make a fortune preventing such a death and a fortune was something that Aoife would give a lot to have. She had never had money as a child and now she had the ability to get it there was a distinct appeal to the touch of gold coins in her hand. Truth be told she had hit her glass ceiling, she knew it, younger more desperate individuals were entering the department and they would overstep her, especially if they were male.

Three short taps pulled her from her thoughts. Turning she looked towards her door and quirked an eyebrow at the man seeking entrance to her office. Not that refusing Malfoy would stop him entering anyway, or so Aoife assumed. That he was there at all was surprising, as a general rule he seemed to have little to do with the pubic relations department, managing to preserve his image well enough without the help of others and working for a government who were not apt to raise merry hell at the slightest thing. Another movement of her wand and a second chair appeared in the small room as Aoife gestured for Malfoy to sit. Whatever this was about it had to be an improvement on the drivel she had been asked to spin recently. As if the public really cared about cauldron bottoms.

Evening Malfoy.

Her Irish accent had lost some of the warmth Aoife usually managed to instil in it. She did not particularly like Malfoy, certainly he required a certain respect, however the fact that he deemed himself senior to her when they were not in the same department was enough alone to make Aoifes blood boil, and really, where men were concerned it did not take much for that to happen.

So, what can I do for you?

She was intrigued by the file in his hand, or this was clearly something she would be requested to work on and she doubted something completely mundane has kept Lucius Malfoy at work so late. Aoife was a regular at the office after hours and she had not been aware of Malfoy there much before. Everything about this screamed interesting, however short of snatching the thing from his hands there was nothing at all she could do about it until he told her, which, if gossip and talk was to believed, would probably not be immediately. Then again, gossip and talk were rarely to be believed in Aoifes opinion.

Who am I to play at fate,
To aim, and fire, and arbitrate
Tween life and death; not knowing hate