Disclaimer: The world and characters of Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling, and the lyrics of Hallelujah belong to Leonard Cohen. This is prompt 'hatred'.
xiii. and from your lips she drew the hallelujah
His laugh is mocking. "Who are you, Weasley? You can't tell me what to do- you don't even have the right to speak to me."
To her shame, hot tears start to well up in her eyes. She blinks them away hurriedly, but he notices.
"Merlin, Weasley, you're a mess, aren't you? Best get yourself taken care of, away from me if you please." The youngest Minister in a century gives her a disgusted look, like he can barely stand to be even this near to her.
"Zacharias, what happened? You used to be-" She doesn't know what to say. He used to be different. Everything used to be different.
"You used to be strong. You're not anymore. Don't expect me to stay the same forever if you can't do it, either."
"I hate you," she says, because there's nothing to say and she's Lucy Weasley.
"I don't care," he says, and the indifference on his face is what makes her finally break down and cry.
When she gains control of herself again, he's long gone.