The Art of New Beginnings

Chapter Four: Bad Tea, Even Worse Conversation

Erica stared at the Minister of Magic incredulously as he continued to pour tea into the two cups in front of him with shaking hands. Every so often his eyes would dart up to her and then back down until he eventually set the tea pot back down on the tray, sliding one of the cups over to her as he took his own into his cupped eyes, using the heat to still his shakes as he settled his gaze on the drink in front of him.

It was strange, how nervous he was, to say that he was the one who had invited her here, but not entirely unsurprising. She had met with Cornelius Fudge before, after all, and he had never struck her as a brilliant man, nor even all that great at all, with his flamboyancy and the way he acted around her.

He was a bit different again from last time though, less flamboyant and more nervous, not that she could blame him. The last time she had met him had been right at the end of her first-year at Hogwarts, after she had disappeared for several days at the end of the year when Harry defeated (and killed) the Defence Professor, Quirrell.

The times before that were different still, the summer before her first-year when it had been revealed that she was the daughter of the greatest Dark Lord within millennia, and her mother and Severus were running around trying to smooth things over. She'd met Rita Skeeter that summer as well, and her annoying habits to hound her whenever they were in the same presence, but she had managed to avoid her since then.

Then there was this meeting. A lot of things had happened since the end of her first-year. She'd destroyed one of her father's horcruxes, whatever that meant, and witnessed another one's destruction. She'd almost died, she'd controlled a basilisk, she'd made several new friends. She thought of Fred briefly, and the new things blooming between them too, before pushing him to the back of her mind. There was no place for him in there right then.

It made sense, given all that, that Minister Fudge would be nervous around her, and that his hands would shake as he set his cup back down on the coaster, and his eyes would dart around, slightly too wide and never quite meeting her face as the silence stretched on between them. It made sense, but that didn't make it any less annoying.

"Well, Erica," he eventually sighed as she made another irritated huff, picking up her own cup and taking a sup. It was green tea, which she supposed was alright, but not one of her favourites. She preferred chamomile. "It has been quite a year for you, hasn't it?"

She stared at him blankly, setting her cup back down. Was he honestly being serious right now? It took everything she had to hide her snort of derision, and clearly he was waiting for an answer, so eventually she replied, taking care to keep her tone even and steady. "You could say that." She still couldn't help but feel that she sounded slightly sarcastic though, and blamed it completely on Harry and Severus' influence.

"I felt it prudent to check up on you, after everything that you have been through," he continued on, seemingly dismissive of her attitude. She took that as her cue to relax slightly, sinking back into the chair and crossing her right leg over her left. "To make certain that you were holding up, you see?"

Another question, she groaned internally, but she nodded her head anyway, just to get this awful meeting over with quicker.

"So, how are you holding up?" He asked, clearly not the question he had been leading up to, but obviously one he felt necessary, giving the way his hands steadied as he folded them on the table and he held her eye for once, not wavering in the slightest even when her own gaze narrowed slightly.

"Well, I don't have any particularly strong killing urges at the moment, so I would say I'm holding up good." she did laugh a little, when he jumped, even though she knew it was mean. She knew Fred would have laughed as well, which made her feel slightly better until she remembered how vindictive he really was. "I'm fine, Minister," she eventually sighed, "You don't have to worry about me."