zachariashsmith:
Zacharias raises an eyebrow. He hasn’t paid much attention to Higgs, if any at all, but maybe he could be fun. For Zacharias, at least. “Oh? Are you usually a gambler, then? I s’ppose not, or you wouldn’t be talking about giving it up so easily.” He himself wouldn’t think of himself as a gambler; he takes bets every now and then, sure, but who doesn’t? It’s practically become a common thing, with how often he seems to hear variations of Bet you that yada yada yada. “What’s your vice then? C’mon, we’re all mates here, you can tell me.”
He offers no such information himself, of course. That’s not how these things go. In most cases, people would assume to know his vices anyway, as part of the image he’s carefully created for himself, and he likes it that way. Let ‘em think whatever.
“Avery… nah, rings no bells.” As Higgs goes on to add their year and house, it makes more sense; they’re a bit too young to hang in the same circles as Aaron and when you add the different houses, it all fits. “Aaron. Sixth year Puff. Nerdy like a Ravenclaw, though, the Hat really did a piss-poor job on that one.” Then again, Aaron is also a much better Hufflepuff than Zacharias ever was; he swears, the kid is like a fucking saint, with how much of his classmates’ bullshit he deals with. Where Zacharias might’ve told someone to fuck off, Aaron actually listens and befriends ‘em. Weird as shit. Must be all Amelie, but he wouldn’t know that, would he? It’s not like he actually cared to get to know her. “Does yours play Quidditch?”
Higgs’ honesty is unexpected but great all the same and Zacharias’ grin widens. “Trouble in paradise?” He doesn’t feel as guilty as one might expect about his comment about Ministry workers now that he knows Higgs is one. In fact, he doesn’t feel guilty at all. As Aaron says, ‘he’s right and he should say it’. Or whatever. Zacharias still isn’t entirely hip with memes. “Well, yeah, no shit. If you’re gonna decide to add technology to the shitstorm that’s already happening here you might as well do it right. Which you’re not. Or they’re not, since you don’t seem to think of yourself as one of ‘them’. Gotta say, though, you saying all that isn’t inspiring much confidence in my poor peasant soul. If not even you lot in the Ministry know what you’re doing we’re screwed, aren’t we?”
.
Oh, no. Apparently, he’s made a grave mistake.
Well, alright, that’s being a bit dramatic, but the point is, he’s walked right into the trap of finding yet another way to emphasize his generally dull personality. Or at the very least, dull lifestyle. But in his defence... he sort of likes being dull. If quiet nights in with a book and casual dinner parties planned weeks in advance and bonding with his kid over ice-cream on holidays is dull, then he’ll take dull over the rest, any day.
He chuckles a little, mostly at himself. Well, there’s no avoiding it now. “Ah—sadly, no, I’m not,” he replies. Though the only ‘sad’ thing about it, really, is that his attempt at being funny and interesting has just backfired on him. It’s a little too ironic not to be amusing, actually. “But my vice? Oh, Merlin, um...” he pauses, and though he experiences a wash of relief that he can actually think of an honest answer that isn’t ‘I don’t have any,’ which, even as a fully grown, adult man, would have been vaguely embarrassing—but the relief is quickly replaced with more self-deprecating amusement, because even before it’s out of his mouth, he knows how it’s going to sound.
“Well, now I’m afraid I’m just going to disappoint you, with that look on your face. It’s a bit stodgy, really, but cigars. Which is a muggle thing, initially—but I got it from my father, who got it from my mother. Not that she smoked them, but he was fascinated with them, and... well, the rest is history, as they say. Though not a particularly exciting read,” he intones with a grin that’s almost apologetic.
At the question about Avery playing Quidditch, he nods, no at all unproudly. He can’t help but smile. “This year is their first time, actually, yes. Keeper for Ravenclaw.” To be honest, he was still reeling from that news.
“I didn’t say that,” he replies to Smith’s concerns about the Ministry. He’s wondering now if he should have been more careful with this words. If he should have avoided the subject altogether. But the problem is, not opening up a dialogue has never helped anything, ever. And what kind of man would he be if he disguised what he really believed in purely for the sake of hiding the Ministy’s imperfections. Owning up to the reality of conflict is a lot more effective and diplomatic.
“I wouldn’t say it’s about not knowing what we’re doing—at least not any more than the inevitable ignorance of humanity as a whole. It’s just that... well, the Ministry is made up of a lot of different parties, all of which have varying opinions on how we should proceed, obviously. And I don’t happen to align myself with the current Majority. That doesn’t mean we can’t still see eye to eye on plenty of things, and work together. It just means... this is only one of many ways things could have unfolded, I suppose.”
He sighs. “But then again, who are we to criticize. Another party might have handled things differently, and then run into different obstacles. I guess it’s never as simple as right or wrong.”
