Author's Note: The prompt was "Over my dead body". This is kind of canon with my story "Full Support", as well as filling in some missing OotP/HBP moments. I'm quite interested in the political, bureaucratic side of the Ministry.

Politics. There were days when Amelia hated it. As she exited Conference Room Number 2, located on the third floor of the Ministry of Magic building, she did her best to avoid speaking to her colleagues. Only a week ago, Cornelius Fudge had been ousted as Minister for Magic. At the time, Amelia had been less than unhappy about it, not having had a particularly close relationship with the leader. Now, however, she would've given anything to avoid the situation she was in. A new Minister had to be selected and candidates were throwing themselves at her from all sides. It was, in a way, flattering, that so many believed she had the power to sway the decision. Perhaps she did; her work at the Ministry had not left her without a certain amount of respect from her peers.

That respect had, however, not stopped the groveling and sucking up she was now being exposed to. Today alone she had received two party invites, five begging letters and a basket of mini muffins. The letters she had thrown away, the invites she had politely declined and the muffins she had distributed amongst the Auror office, a gesture that had been gladly welcomed. It wasn't the first time things like this had happened either. Amelia groaned at the thought of it; sometimes she even considered running herself, just to get people off her back, though, given the current climate, it wasn't a threat she was going to follow through with.

Amelia stepped into the lift and jabbed at one of the buttons. When the doors had closed, she leant back against the wall and let out a colossal sigh. When one got to this point, feeling like every little thing involved the energy of moving a mountain, perhaps it was time to call it quits. Her retirement was something that had played at the back of her mind for a while now, in between her thoughts of running for Minister and killing all candidates for Minister. People would possibly say she was too young, a compliment she wouldn't mind receiving, though perhaps it was true; in the wizarding world, with the seemingly ridiculous life spans, retirement definitely wasn't a normal concern at her age. Still, the idea of not having to deal with any of this was very appealing to Amelia at the current time.

The lift doors dinged open again and a man, well-built with long, dirty-blonde hair, stepped into the confined space. Amelia straightened up a little, but didn't bother to look anymore enthused about life.

"Long day, I take it," Yaxley said with a small smile.

Amelia nodded as the doors slid shut and the lift continued on its way.

"I have had it up to here with support submissions," she sighed, "So if you've come to make a presentation don't bother."

She had been joking, but the slightly guilty look on Yaxley's face make her groan.

"You've got to be kidding me!" she said.

"It's not for me," Yaxley said defensively, "I'm here on behalf of somebody else."

"Well you're too late," Amelia interrupted, "I've already backed my horse."

Yaxley looked surprised.

"Really?" he asked, "Who?"

"Rufus Scrimgeour," Amelia replied, "But don't go spreading it around."

She had wanted to keep her decision quiet, as she wasn't entirely sure about it herself. But Scrimgeour, her successor as head of the Auror Office, seemed to be the only option in her mind. He wanted the job, that much he had said himself, but he was also decisive, clever and more than well equipped strategically; he had the skill set to lead a country during times like these. Though she had her doubts, when the panel met to make the final decision, that was the way Amelia would be voting. Yaxley, on the other hand, didn't look so sure.

"Scrimgeour?" he said incredulously, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Amelia inquired, her patience running a little short.

Yaxley shrugged.

"He's not particularly personable. And he has a tendency to be somewhat brutal."

"He takes no nonsense and suffers no fools," Amelia said bluntly, "Quite frankly, I perceive that to be a good thing."

"His manner does leave one questioning his actual affection for the people," Yaxley continued.

Amelia narrowed her eyes.

"I'm not sure I like where this conversation is headed," she said quietly.

"I meant no offense," Yaxley said quickly.

"Of course you did," Amelia retorted.

She gave a small laugh, shaking her head.

"Not that it really matters," she said, "We haven't ceased to be a democracy simply because of recent events; you're entitled to your own opinion. Which is what, by the way?"

"Pius Thicknesse."

This time Amelia was surprised.

"Thicknesse?" she questioned.

"He has an impeccable track record," Yaxley said.

"Yes, yes, I've heard," Amelia said with a wave of her hand, "I'm merely surprised that you're involved in his campaign. I was under the impression that you hadn't had a lot to do with him over the years."

Once again Yaxley shrugged.

"I haven't, not really. But the time has come to choose teams and I've weighed up my options."

"Of course," Amelia smiled, stepping out of the lift as it came to a halt, "Your interests come first."

Yaxley smiled back and followed her, no sign of resentment towards her comment.

"Of course," he said, "I've been playing this game too long not to know it's the only way to survive. I daresay it factored in your decision."

"Perhaps," Amelia said noncommittally, a hint of teasing in her voice "Perhaps a little."

Yaxley laughed.

"A little?" he exclaimed, "Everyone knows that old lion would do anything for you. Hell, just about every man in this building would. How you've convinced them all they're in love I'll never know. And it's true, so don't deny it."

"I wasn't going to," Amelia said, one corner of her mouth turning upwards.

The pair started walking down the corridor, the witch ahead by a few paces, going in the direction of her office.

"But you should definitely consider Thicknesse," Yaxley said.

"I'll consider it," Amelia promised.

Yaxley nodded, satisfied, but then said, "you're not going to change your mind, are you?"

Amelia gave him a sympathetic look.

"Probably not."

"Oh well," Yaxley sighed, shoving his hands in his pocket, "I tried. The argument will never be settled, no one will be chosen and we'll all have to live in a state of anarchy. I guess we could always elect Dolores Umbridge."

"Over my dead body!" Amelia exclaimed.

Yaxley smiled at that, but there was something in his eyes, as if the statement made him just a bit sad. He was a confusing individual, Amelia concluded; she could never tell where she stood with him, or define what exactly their relationship was. Back when they were much younger, they'd been out a few times but nothing had come of it. Still, something about his wit and intelligence attracted her to him. He wasn't physically beautiful, not by a long shot, but there was something interesting in the lines of his face and shades of his eyes. Something interesting that kept her guessing. But there was also something else, something more, something that stopped her every time; she just never could tell with him.

"What are you thinking?" she asked quietly.

Yaxley turned his head slightly, gazing at her with melancholy eyes.

"I'm thinking," he said slowly, "that I wish I'd taken you to dinner more times than I did."

Amelia wasn't entirely sure how to take that.

"Maybe you still can," she said kindly, "I was only joking about the dead body thing."

"I know," Yaxley replied, "but it's more apt than perhaps you realize."

"Meaning?" Amelia inquired curiously.

"Meaning," he explained, "that things have changed. People are going to have to reassess their priorities and-"

He paused.

"-and not everyone is going to come out the other side."

Amelia was quite honestly a little shocked by this. She hadn't thought Yaxley would be that nervous about things to come.

"I didn't realize this was worrying you so much," she said.

"I don't know," Yaxley said, "it's just I don't want it to be how it was last time, when you couldn't tell who was on your side, who was playing for what team."

Amelia nodded; she understood that feeling all too well, everybody did.

"Well don't worry about me," she said, "I've backed my horse, remember, I'm not changing."

"No," Yaxley whispered, "I knew you wouldn't."

He inclined his head in a goodbye, turned around and walked back the way he had come. Amelia followed him with her grey eyes, watching as he got back on the lift. Then she turned and went towards her office, getting on with her day, not completely sure what had just happened.