A first day in any job was stressful and nerve racking. For Eve, she felt the stress for her multiplied by the dozen because of her present situation. The blonde witch hadn’t waved a wand in a decade and she certainly hadn’t been to the ministry in that long. Of course there had been the interviews for her job. And she’d stepped a nervous foot into the ministry flushing system that day, anxious about entering a ministry that had victimised her only eleven years prior.

And now Evangeline Kuester had completed her first day. She had lasted and she’d been relatively pleased with herself for having thrown herself back into the wizarding culture with both feet. She had once more used a wand for basics and met the people she would be supervising. But now the biggest challenge arose. For the foreseeable future Eve would be working in the same building as someone she hadn’t seen for over a decade.

3 levels above Evangeline’s desk sat a man she’d spent four years married to an even longer hating. She’d stewed in Azkaban analysing every area of her marriage, deciding which elements of the ex-husband she’d despised the most. She’d had far too much time to consider it and with this time spawned further loathing. A man she had once loved, and whose faults she had accepted had turned his back on her thanks to her blood status and happily fed her to the death eaters.

Presently, she was stood in his office examining the absurdly lavish decorations, hands deep within the pockets of the jacket she wore over a black pencil skirt. The office was typical of what she knew of Cameron Rosier. He liked to show off. His clothes had always been of the best quality. His home had always been of the best quality. His wives had always been of the best quality. His obnoxious show off personality had been the primary attraction but now it made her detest him further.

And so the witch bent down and pulled a drawer open. Bright blue eyes widened considerably as they happened across the contents of the first open drawer. With a wand now in her left hand, she used to tip to push a pair of frilly red knickers to the side of the drawer. Instead a slim tanned hand slipped into the drawer and removed a small tin. This she opened, removed one cigarette to place between her lips and deposited the tin in her jacket pocket.

Whilst sitting on the edge of the desk, lighting the cigarette with the tip of her wand, the door behind her slowly opened and she heard footsteps enter the office. Eve quickly stood and span around on the heel of her tall black shoes.

“Azkaban, Cameron?” She lowered her wand, picked the red knickers up with its tip and flung them at her ex-husband. “C’etait fantastique! I had a beautiful private room with a sea view, room service and an unlimited supply of water.” The mixed European accent rang clearly as the witch spoke, addressing the no doubt surprised and unimpressed wizard at the door.

Cameron Rosier was going through some very challenging times. Work was a mess but also his home was a wreck thanks to his own recklessness, but also thanks to the criminal who wanted his head on a silver platter. Rosier was not his usual self, he was angry and bitter and from time to time found it quite hard to focus. He knew this will pass, but at this very moment he felt like locking himself in his dark office and not showing his face for at least a week.

Also, speaking of his face – it had some new and rather interesting features. The left side of it was full of cuts and nasty bruises from the device that hit him, less than a week ago in his very own garden. His arm still hurt and was wrapped in a tight bandage, however Rosier knew his friend Jason did his best and that the runespoor venom was gone. He just needed to wait for it to heal properly now. Annoyingly, he was still limping slightly, even though he got rid of that god-awful crutch yesterday morning. He didn’t like to be seen with a crutch – he looked like a weak old man.

It was the end of a very long and bitter day for most people on Level Two, but not for Rosier. Since the attack, he somehow felt most comfortable inside his office here at the Ministry. He felt slightly bad for neglecting Puck the house elf, but he couldn’t help but spend as much time away from home as possible. He wasn’t scared…he was just angry. And he didn’t like feeling angry in the comforts of his own home. But at least extra work will be done if he stays around here longer – now it was finally personal for Rosier too. Now he knew, to an extent, how Edward Pratt felt.

“I will see you tomorrow,” he said curtly to a wizard who walked down the hallway with him. His head hurt from the lack of sleep, but he stubbornly continued to his office. “Night Trevelyan,” he greeted the ginger wizard over his shoulder, spotting him while passing through. Finally he reached the office, opened the blackwood door and stepped in, thinking he will make himself a nice cup of tea and sit in silence while reading and filling in the reports.

However, it seemed that was too much to ask for. Some strange piece of fabric flew in his direction, but he dodged it quickly (still alert and vigilant since the attack) and instinctively drew his wand. But then a familiar voice spoke to him. Lowering the wand, Cameron made an unpleasant grimace.

“C’etait fantastique! I had a beautiful private room with a sea view, room service and an unlimited supply of water.”

“Sounds like the Ritz,” he replied coldly, pocketing his wand. What was she doing here? And more importantly – who let her into his office? His headache worsened. This ungrateful, greedy woman was the last thing he needed in his life…no one liked messing with ex-wives. That’s why they were ex-wives. Unfortunately Cameron had one too many. “Get off my desk,” he demanded arrogantly, checking if something was out of place and slightly cringing after noticing she was smoking his cigarettes.

He walked behind the desk, ignoring her, and sat into his chair, opening a thick folder. “Why are you here?” he asked, not even lifting his gaze from the paperwork.

The frosty reception was quite as expected. Cameron was not the type to jump up and down and hug her like a long lost friend. Neither was she the type to appreciate that and join in. He certainly wasn’t the type to outlandishly lose his temper and shout her out of his office. And it seemed he hadn’t changed. Cameron came into the room, dodging the flying underwear and made a few cold comments, the arrogance dripping from his smooth, monotone drone. He didn’t even spare a glance towards the owner of the voice he obviously still remembered very well.

Very quickly, an instant passed where his demeanour gave her a sickening feeling of déjà. The cold, impolite introduction, the self appointed importance which he seemed to believe excused him from conversing with people like fellow witches and wizards. Eve felt 25 again, wishing to gain the attention of a man who cared more for his paperwork.

Fortunately the moment passed and a much older, worldlier wise Eve took the place of the young, naive wife of the egotistical fool before her.

“The Ritz has no sea view, abruti[1].” The multilingual witch coldly replied to the wizard nearing her. Yet she didn’t move from near his desk. Instead, as he came around the back of it, she leant against the wood, legs stretching out before her as she watched him carefully. With the wizard so close, she could see how much he had changed. Eve’s pale forehead creased into a curious, mildly concerned frown and she lowered the cigarette from her lips, slowly blowing out a diminutive cloud of smoke which calmly floated into the air above them.

Her spare right hand reached forward and touched the cheek of the wizard that had already sat down and moved his focus onto obviously more interesting things than his ex-wife.

Her cool fingers brushed the skin of his cheek softly. “What happened, Cameron?”

1.	French for 'Moron'

He wasn’t going to tell her she was already flogging a dead horse with arguing about what had a sea view and what didn’t. He could only scribble notes in frustration, trying to appear cool and collected. Rosier wanted to know why now – after so many years and during such difficult times – why did she have to come back? Their marriage lasted four years, four long years, but Cameron was impressed how he managed to last that long. Evangeline wasn’t a bad person, she just didn’t know how to deal with him. Apparently no one did.

He could feel she was watching him closely, apparently deciding to ignore his question and the fact that it was plainly obvious she wasn’t wanted here. Turning the page of a report loudly, he was trying to express his annoyance. But then he felt a hand on his face – the injured side of his face. Anger suddenly sparked inside him as he quickly snatched her hand, putting it away from his face and turned towards her, finally giving her a good look. “What happened?” he hissed angrily. “That’s a very good question, Evangeline. Why don’t you try and take a wild guess?” Her let her hand go, realizing he was probably gripping it too tightly. It wouldn’t be fair to take out his anger on her, but it was her fault for coming here, at this time. She always seemed to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

“You failed to answer my question, I believe” he said, suddenly in a cold and monotone voice again. He took another good look at his second wife – she looked very similar to what he remembered and she could still be considered young. Rosier had hoped she was far away somewhere, married to some wealthy Greek drug dealer or someone like that, spending her days on a beach – far away from him and the rainy England. A man could dream…it was apparently too much to hope for as well.

“How come you decided to…grace me with your presence?” It might have been a politer way of asking ‘What do you want now?’, but Rosier wasn’t too worried. His evening was ruined.

Out of nowhere Rosier snapped. His hand shot out, snatching hers and gripping it tightly between his long fingers. His reaction had been utterly unnecessary and for a moment a look of shock had washed over the pale woman’s features. The wizard was finally looking at her and she didn’t like the way he was. Of course Eve hadn’t expected Cameron to welcome her with open arms. She hadn’t expected him to be chuffed to see her, to be excited to once more have his ex-wife around. But she hadn’t been expecting him to look at her so angrily. And it wasn’t solely because of her presence. Eve already knew that.

Trying not to grimace from the strength he used to grip her hand, Eve stared back. Cameron and his arrogance and anger were not going to make her back off anymore. Eve had been very young before. Now she was older, wiser and not willing to let him and his cockiness intimidate her. Even if he looked truly angry and hurt it seemed.

“Okay,” Eve hissed back, snatching her hand away as he let go. “You cheated on a witch better with her wand than I.” If Cameron couldn’t be nice Eve wasn’t going to even consider being sensitive about his apparent injuries.

Rosier demanded she answer his question before giving her another long look. Well at least she’d attracted his attention now. He was no longer acting interested in the boring file atop his desk. She pursed her lips in thought while considering a response before taking another drag of Cameron’s cigarette. He could wait a moment for a response.

“I work here, Cameron.” Eve stated through a cloud of smoke, eyes travelling across the scratches upon his cheek. “In the ministry. I thought I should tell you personally before you run into me in a corridor.” The witch paused and glanced at his shirt before taking another drag of the cigarette. “I understand how temperamental the...ticker of an old man can be, mon cher.” Truer words had not been spoken since her entrance.

Her explanation was ridiculous and oh so predictable. Of course she would think of something like that. She was so self-centred, she managed to somehow make all this about her – just because she was unhappy with him, didn’t mean someone else was too. But rather than even attempting to explain what happened, or tell the unofficial tale he told most people in the office, Rosier just played along. He was too tired for this. “You’re absolutely right,” he said rolling his eyes a bit. “I think I need to learn to stay away from those particularly vengeful witches…” And with that, he looked down on his paperwork again and started writing another paragraph.

She was quiet for a while and Rosier was grateful for that. His head hurt already, but somehow her voice just made it worse…it seemed more high-pitched than he remembered. Actually, she sounded different – must be because she lived abroad for far too long. But why couldn’t she just stay there? And why did she feel the need to sneak into his office? Rosier was definitely too old and too tired to deal with this, but he decided to do his best to act indifferently. Women hated indifference.

He lifted his gaze back to her when she told him she worked here. And before he could fire back telling her she certainly doesn’t work where she was now, she finished her statement. Whoever hired her made a huge mistake – all Evangeline wanted to do with her life was to live like a princess…spending someone else’s money. But he didn’t say anything about it. She was free to work where she wanted…well, except on Level Two. “Well, it’s very nice you worry so much about this old man,” he replied with a smirk and then loudly turned a page in his report.

“I am truly touched,” he continued with the false and over the top politeness, while focusing on another paragraph in the report, rather than on her. “But I do wonder…How come it took you more than a decade to worry. I mean, I at least expected a postcard from France…Azkaban…you know, wherever you lived…”

An inexperience with dealing with characters such as her ex-husband led to slow responses. How did you have a sensible conversation with an arrogant, self obsessed old man you hadn’t spoken to or wished to speak to in over a decade? Evie had imagined this moment for years. The main difference however had been Cameron at the tip of her wand, her about to get revenge for the things he’d hurt her with as his wife, for the betrayal when it came to her life or his comfort. Cameron Rosier was a selfish man; he had always been and would never change. And here Evie was, considering his feelings only to have his patronising arrogance throwing it back in her face.

The blond witch pursed her lips and stood up from the desk. She twisted on her heel and leant over the department head to tap the cigarette end into the ashtray before him on the desk. “I don’t worry for you, Cameron.” The female’s soft voice took on a harsher edge before she stood up straight. “I would never worry for you again.”

Tall heels clicked on the hard wood floor as Evangeline stepped around the desk, bright blue eyes studying him carefully. “After what you did to me in the war I would be happy to see you dead in a ditch, Rosier.” Her eyes once more darted across the scratches upon his face before falling to what she could see of his body above the desk. Someone had apparently harboured very similar feelings towards him very recently.

“You,” Eve’s voice dropped lower as she stood before the desk, cigarette gripped between her fingers “are a conceited, egotistical, heinous wizard. And to be perfectly honest, Cameron, I wish whoever had done that to you,” The cigarette was pointed in the direction of his face, “had of finished the job. You’ve never put yourself out for another person; you’ve never done anything selfless. The least you could have done is...” But the witch stopped. She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t wish a man she’d once loved dead even if he had left her for dead a decade ago. Eve wasn’t that person.

Even once Eve had finished speaking Cameron’s eyes remained firmly glued to the report sat on the desk before him as if to confirm everything she’d said. A calming intake of breathe was attempted by the younger witch but it failed. his attitude and demeanour could only be brushed off to a certain extent and instead of letting it wash over her, Evangeline stepped closer to the desk and leant forward towards her ex-husband and his report. With one hand resting against the desk, she firmly pressed the ashy butt of her cigarette against the section his eyes were presently scanning.

Nothing she had to say interested him really. He was having a horrible week, dealing with things way beyond her comprehension – all this while his arm hurt and when he even struggled to walk properly. He had no time to have a proper meal or more than three, pathetic hours of restless sleep a day. But Rosier was more determined than ever and from his perspective Evangeline was nothing but an annoying distraction. How could she not see that he was tired, that he obviously had his job to do…she never understood when she was not welcome. All Rosier could do however was to grimace slightly and stare down at his paper, while struggling to write with his injured arm.

He barely listened when she went on again about the ‘great injustice’ that was done to her during the War. A long time ago, Rosier promised himself he will not bother with explaining how he actually helped her avoid a certain death sentence. Maybe he was too proud to admit that, or he simply didn’t want her gratitude…or he knew she would simply dismiss that statement – thinking of him as a cold-hearted, despicable liar.

His writing became messier as she fired insults at him yet again – not that these insults really hurt him or anything, but it bothered him how she failed to understand the seriousness of his injuries. ‘He should have finished the job…I wish you were dead…’ Well, Cameron wished he had a Sickle for every time someone said that to him. There was no point in arguing, so he continued with his report, slowly trying to fill the paragraphs in a neater fashion.

Then all of a sudden, her hand appeared above his report and before Rosier could do or say something, there was a cigarette butt squashed into the parchment. He blinked, staring for a second at the place he just filled out with some essential notes…which now had an ugly, burnt hole around it. He could not believe her insolence! Rosier stared at the woman before him, the lights of candles dangerously reflecting in his eyes. “First you come here without an announcement or a scheduled meeting. Then you let yourself into my office and dig through my personal belongings.” He stopped for a second, realizing how vocalizing these things made him even more infuriated.

“You mock my injuries, insult me and interrupt my work without any good reason. And now, how can you wonder why I never loved you or why I was so eager to get rid of you?” Harsh words, and not necessarily true. While he once did love her, that love faded away pretty quickly. But if she fancied making a villain out of him, he was more than happy to play the part.

He took the ruined report and binned it quickly, because he couldn’t look at it and the burnt out cigarette any longer. Then without a word he drew out another piece of parchment and with patience and determination tried to repair what she ruined. Some things truly never change.

Had Cameron Rosier’s words formed on his lips over a decade ago they would have stung with a vicious poison. As it was they had come years after Evangeline had realised how much she hated the man before her. The words had the mere effect of justifying and confirming her feelings towards her ex-husband, head of a department she had spent years working for and now, would never be welcomed back to.

Because of the grumpy ogre before her, Evangeline had spent almost a year sharing a cell with the damp and rats, she’d watched a wand she’d possessed since the age of eleven be snapped before her eyes prior to being thrown behind bars. Every penny had been snatched from her grasp, donated to a next of kin upon her incarceration. Or an ex-next of kin.

So Eve didn’t care if Cameron professed a complete absence of love for her.

Nevertheless, the young witch’s eyes expertly swelled to the size of galleons and filled with tears. Any colour drained from the blonde’s face and she took a step back from the desk, expression registering a faked shock, hurt.

“You liar, Cameron!” Eve ran her jacket sleeve over the cheeks where the crocodile tears began to flow. Heels once more clicked against the hardwood floor as the witch moved back around the desk to reach her ex-husband. “I sat awake at night for a decade believing you still loved me. Nights in Azkaban drew on forever and that was the only thing to get me through. Your mother even said to me that you’d been such a silly man.” A hand reached out to touch his cheek again. “She said you’d never known your own mind, Cammy.”

He scribbled the report angrily, hoping she would leave him alone now. He knew she was angry and had every right to be so, but she deserved to be told this. Rosier wasn’t fond of surprises like the one she arranged tonight. But then she started sobbing – which was unexpected and totally unnecessary. Rosier didn’t want to deal with this on top of everything he had to deal with this week…he just looked at her with a lifted eyebrow, as if showing mild concern.

But what she was saying made no sense at all and it was bound to be a lie. Why was she making all this up though? Well, clearly she has gone even more insane. Rosier could only look at her with a puzzled expression, but when she dared to mention his mother, that struck a nerve. Then on top of all that, she reached out to touch his injured face once again and called him ‘Cammy’. This time he didn’t do anything except offering the mad woman just a cold, murderous glare. Then he drew out his wand and placed it next to the report on his desk. It was there as a warning.

“Don’t you know I murdered my mother, Evangeline?” He couldn’t believe it has come to this. How dare she bring up his mother and lie so shamelessly? His mother died in Azkaban long before Evangeline set her foot into the fortress. “So I’m pretty sure she had nothing to say to you…I have nothing to say to you either,” he said coldly. He sighed and shrugged a bit, then eyed the report on his desk again.

As he took the quill in his injured hand once again, he added nonchalantly; “Though do find it very flattering that the thought of me was the only thing that got you through Azkaban.” Rosier smirked a bit to himself. How many times did he think of her? Ha…