"Er..." Jacque winces and picks up the parchment as his eyes skim over the details. "Ms. Rousseau, you didn't give me these..."
Eyes wide, my nails dig into the material of my trousers in an effort to curb my rage. "Excuse me?"
"Here..." He pulls out another stack from his files and shows them to me. Requests for new tents for the Dragon Force, as well as other hard to get supplies. They're all signed by Kingsley and the Under Deputy. "You gave these to me three days ago and I sent them. This form was never in the pile."
I stare for a moment, wondering if he was right. I never forget important documents...but it was on my desk. And it would seem odd that Jacque would take one form and put it on my desk when he knew it had to be delivered to Kingsley. Irritated, I snatch the form from his hands before I turn and start to walk back into my office. Cursing again, I round on him and thrust it back into his face. "Take this to Director Shacklebolt and have it signed. I don't care that it's past deadline. Tell him I want it signed and if he has any questions to find me."
Jacque swallows hard and nods. "Yes, of course, Ms. Rousseau."
My office door slams behind me and I walk to the window overlooking the Ministry gardens. I push it open and breathe in the warm, spring weather before placing my hands on the windowsill and closing my eyes. I hated being this irritated, and forgetful. My ability to do my job was slipping. I was never going to make higher rank with as many mistakes as I was making lately.
I hear my office door creak open and I whirl around, ready to chew Jacque's head off for not knocking, but I pause when Charlie shuts the door behind him and crosses to me. "I could hear you all the way down the hall."
"So?" I snap, turning back toward the open window stubbornly, ignoring the embarrassment forming in the pit of my stomach.
"Half of the Auror force working in their cubicles were hiding under their desks," he jokes, his hands falling on my shoulders where his thumbs press and begin to massage my tension away. Not wanting to relax, I swat his hand away and cross my arms under my breasts.
"None of them out there know how to do their job," I rant, my body heated with anger. "If they did, these imbecile, so-called vigilantes would be caught and punished, right? The department would be running much more smoothly. And I..." My rage swiftly turns into exhaustion and much to my horror I burst into tears.
"Hey," Charlie begins, surprise evident in his tone as he takes ahold of my arms and turns me toward him. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know!" I sob, lifting my fingertips to wipe the tears away from my cheeks. "Nothing...everything...I don't know!"
"Is it Whizzy?" he asks quietly and I huff, glaring at him through my blurred vision as I move away from him.
"It's not Randall. It's not Dorrie. I don't care about them, I don't care about anything." I sit restlessly on the couch and thrust my fingers into my hair. There is silence and I sigh before looking up at Charlie. "Except you. I'm sorry, Charlie. I'm just so tired. I'm tired of forgetting how to do my job, tired of being nauseous all the time, tired of wondering what's going to go wrong next."
Charlie sits next to me and strokes my hair before carefully pulling me into his arms. "You need a holiday."
"I need several holidays," I laugh with a small sniffle.
"You know, when mum was pregnant with my siblings, she would be cross with my dad one second and loving the next. Her moods were so unpredictable. Bill and I didn't know what we would be coming home too when school ended if she was pregnant. Poor dad." Charlie grins at the memory. "One day in the summer, when she was pregnant with Percy, we found him hiding under their bed taking a nap. It was the only place he could find peace when she was in a bad mood."
I arch an eyebrow at him stoically. "So you think it's hormones."
"It has to be," he insists with a grin. "You usually have such a cheery disposition."
I scowl at him, but can't fight the smile threatening, so I shake my head and look away. He takes my hand and pulls me up from the couch. "Let's grab some lunch, away from the Ministry so you can get some fresh air."
There is no sense in arguing and I let him slide my robes over my body before he opens the door. Jacque winces when he sees me and pretends to be completely immersed in his work. I roll my eyes and sigh and decide it might be best to apologize to him when I return. If he's not cowering under his desk, ala Mr. Weasley, by then.