He was right. It was warm for January. The sun beamed against the blue sky, white clouds moving in patterns. The wind tickled her cheeks, and she could feel the warmth of the sun soaking up her skin. Walking over the table, he mumbled a warming charm for the both of them before slipping off his blazer, wearing an untucked white shirt and navy dress pants. Her cheeks flushed as he rolled up the sleeves to his elbows, sliding his glasses into the pocket of his coat.