The witch stepping out of the elevator at level one was exhausted. She’d had another night of broken sleep, plagued by nightmares that didn’t seem to cease. They’d eased years ago while living as a muggle in Paris. She’d been able to force herself to forget Azkaban, the fear and despair brought on by the dementors and death eaters roaming its cells. But now she was back in the magical world and the nightmares became more recurrent, more vivid and terrifying. She’d spent the night before dreaming, screaming and shaking. Any other witch may have taken the advice of a healer or an apothecary for sleeping potion but not Eve. She simply hoped they would go away.

Fortunately, excepting her usually bright blue eyes now seeming dim and tired, Eve showed no further signs of her lack of sleep.  She looked as polished as ever as she made her way towards the office of the minister of magic, heels clicking rhythmically on the marble floor, robes flapping behind her to reveal the long green dress. Under her arm she carried a brown wallet full of parchment that had been neatly inked with the information the minister’s office had demanded.

Evangeline hadn’t yet dealt personally with the Minister of Magic. She’d not been back in the ministry for long and unlike her previous years in the MLE, she kept her head down, quietly working instead of pushing to improve and progress through the ranks. Not she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. Her distrust of the ministry remained intact.

“I’ve the documents requested by the minister from International Cooperation.” The lawyer informed the welcome witch in charge of managing who went in and out of the office of the minister.

“Oh! Madame Koooerster! Mister undersecretary said to expect you.”

“Oh, ok.” Eve tried not to look too put off by the pronunciation of her fairly simply surname. She was more intrigued why her note had said for the minister.

“His office is just there, Madame. Go straight ahead.”

Eve nodded, turned on her heel and made her way to the enormous door not quite at large as the one she’d expected to go through. She gave it a knock, waiting for a response. The bark that came back rang with a strange familiarity and she pushed the door open stepping inside.

The wizard sat behind the desk was definitely not what the witch had expected. Her brow creased.

“Should I warn the aurors our minister is under the imperious?” That was the only explanation for that man being sat in that chair.

Rosier was very busy today, he didn't even have time to take his possessions out of boxes from his old office. Everything was sort of unceremoniously scattered around the place. Piles and piles of books decorated the antique desk together with many old chandeliers, candles and dusty-looking scrolls. However, one of the first things the new Senior Undersecretary unpacked was the crystal ashtray which was already completely filled with ashes. The move up to Level One was stressful, but not as bad as he expected - this time he did not have to deal with Aurors with authority problems. Here, people were generally polite and helpful so far...but it was only his first week.

Some people would probably have an issue with working or holding meetings in a messy environment, but not Rosier. He just never cared enough for such small things - if someone wanted to see him, he was here. Sighing, he looked inside the box labeled with 'desk' and found an old, silver picture frame where he put that old photograph of Gawain Robards. He frowned, putting it back in the depths of the cardboard box. He was fortunate enough not to end up like old Robards, but he still wasn't happy with himself - he was more lucky than anything, he survived ridiculous things in the past year and he knew that new challenges lurked around the corner.

He looked up as someone knocked on his door. Peeking through the towers of books and boxes on his desk, he noticed the witch he usually liked to avoid. Not that she was unpleasant to look at, but Rosier was not the type of person who liked to keep in touch with his ex-wives. And unfortunately he had many of those...But Evangeline was probably the one who bothered him the most - not only she had to work in the same building as him, but she apparently also enjoyed bickering and making him miserable for no reason at all.

"Please do, Ms Kuester," he said nonchalantly, gazing back at the document he was reading before she interrupted him. "I see there is no other way of getting you out of this building, so yes - that would be a wise solution."

Ms Kuester…. Eva blinked. It was overly formal from someone she’d been married to for four long years. Yet they’d barely seen one another since. Like Rosier, Evangeline didn’t want to see her ex-spouse. She’d not spoken to him properly since returning to England[1]. Yet unlike him she didn’t have several exes. She wasn’t a serial spouse. Rosier had no doubt married another younger witch since her. Yet still here he was, alone and grumpier than ever hidden behind messy piles upon piles of books.

Hiding her discontent for the situation behind polite smile, the lawyer closed the door behind her with a sharp click and progressed further into the office.
“My presence in this building affects you so much you’ve deliberated getting rid of me? Cute.” She didn’t like being here in his presence but she remained calm. He wanted to bat out a quick insult to put her down? Fine. She’d expect no less of such a man. He was the man that had divorced his wife after finding out she was a muggleborn, after all.

“You, Mister Undersecretary, are ze one that requested my presence here?” Her hands enclosed the wallet and she moved closer to the desk, heels brushing the purple carpet that characterised Level One of the Ministry. Eva’s eyes scanned the desk; there was nowhere to put the documents. It was a cluttered chaos. So instead she held them out, blue eyes regarding her ex-husband.
“Now what do you want? I’m no courier.” If she’d not been needed personally the memo would have just demanded the documents be sent over. This memo sounded like the minister needed a run down or a word regarding the work. Kuester would have much preferred to deal with Zephyr.

1.	Dementors in Frilly Knickers

She was incredibly juvenile, so he ignored her. He was certain she enjoyed this sort of inane banter immensely, so he showed no emotion. Women like her hated being ignored, so naturally that was the first thing he did. "No, I requested the documents you brought here so efficiently. For that, I thank you," he said with a hint of a smirk, feigning politeness. On  top of all the things he had to deal with in his miserable life, now he had his ex-wife breathing down his neck. Just splendid.

Rosier loved and hated the question that people often asked him - what did he want? Right now - would it be awfully rude to request a cup of tea from Evangeline? She was never much of a housewife, but maybe for good, old times sake? He decided against it however, thinking of office etiquette and also not wanting to risk any hexes flying in his general direction. He knew well enough this woman was insane and would not hesitate to aim at his face.

"If you wish to speak with the Minister, you are more than welcome to schedule a meeting," he said, taking the scrolls she was holding out, as if too eager to get rid of them. "However, we all know how busy she is, so if this isn't of any vital importance or an extremely urgent matter, I advise you to discuss it with me." He had no idea what those documents were and why she thought he personally requested her, however he played along for now. His schedule was even more insane than the Minister's (if such a thing was possible) and on top of all this he needed to organize the office. Whatever occurred down on Level Five was the last thing on Rosier's mind.

There was a reason Cameron and Evangeline had divorced after only four years. He was impossible, a self-obsessed egotistically chauvinist bully that was under the illusion that the only person that could ever be correct and perfect was himself. Furthermore, he thought it acceptable to patronise her! Perhaps the younger Eva would have just accepted it, putting it down to his greatly flawed personality. But today his comment earner her ire. His denial that his office had asked her personally grated considerably on a witch that resented having her time wasted, especially as this wizard had already wasted four years of it.

“Discuss it with the minister’s newest salivating lapdog?” The pretty blonde lawyer asked? “I’d rather pass considering it was only the documents you requested.” If he was going to be antagonising and difficult, she could be similar. “You learned to speak Russian then? Perfected on their legal system?” A small smile twisted the witch’s lips as she folded her arms over her chest, resting her weight on her right leg. “Excellent.”

“So you have a read through it alone since you’re obviously very busy as the new lackey, practice a bit of your Russian oh and you might need a German dictionary and a book on dangerous plants. Then you sign off your approval (if you have enough power as the little lapdog) and send it back to me. Then I don’t need to spend any more time in a room with you. Merveilleux!” If only she could leave him to it.