When she steps into the bullpen, her eyes find him immediately. He was always wearing at least two pieces of a suit underneath his robes in varying combinations depending on the day. Mainly, she assumed, because he never managed to keep his robes on. Even back in school, he had only worn his robes when he absolutely had to, always preferring a perfectly tailored Italian suit, typically in shades of black or grey. On rare occasions, you’d see him in a blue or tan suit but she assumed that was some sort of rich people code that she just hadn’t figured out. Like you only wear Navy suits on events falling on a Full Moon in April. If his platinum blonde hair and stupidly handsome face didn’t draw the eye, certainly the contrasting suit in the sea of Maroon Auror robes would do it. 