May 15, 1888 — The Minister's Office

He wasn't the head auror, but apparently his superiors had felt he had enough experience — and enough seniority — to deliver today's updates on investigative matters to the Minister himself. Usually debriefings to his direct superiors were fraught with boredom and frustration as he made an attempt to get his points across. Meetings with Ministers were traditionally supposed to be easier to handle, as their lack of background in law enforcement meant they were less likely to argue over matters they viewed the aurors to have a better grasp on. Minister Ross, however, was different.

He sat across from the older gentleman as he sifted through files — some of which were filled with ordered fines against lawbreakers, while others were criminal files, such as the ones against Argus Scrimgeour.

"That ones definitely going to cause a public stir," he commented, passing both files — one on the (formerly) missing Miss Scrimgeour and her now-in-custody father. "A wealthy pureblood arrested for assault. Never happened before, has it?" he sarcastically mumbled to himself, his mind thinking back to the case of Tybalt Lestrange, and more recently, Benedict Bates. It was obviously a clear sign that inbreeding wasn't synonymous with good breeding.

  

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Every department was expected to give Ross weekly updates, but Magical Law Enforcement was one of his favorites. It brought him back to running the department, which he both did and didn't miss. On the one hand, Magical Law Enforcement was not the most notorious position in the Ministry. On the other, Ross was actually more free from the Ministry on the weekends, and did not have to deal as closely with matters such as, say, the Scrimgeour case.

"And everyone in his social circle will be publicly and predictably horrified but whisper in their clubs that they can see why he did it," Ross said with a roll of his eyes, "Do you know when we're looking at an indictment?" It was not a question of 'if', but 'when' - Ross had read the report and knew what the girl had looked like.

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Edric snickered, beginning to shuffle through some of the other reports. There were the basic cases: petty theft, discrimination accusations, and one particularly amusing case involving a wizard pressing charges against a goblin for causing "irreparable damage" to his new shoes. Still, none were quite as high-profile as the Scrimgeours.

"They're still trying to extract evidence against him, sir," he said, referring to the interrogators who he (personally) thought were incompetent, at least at this hour. "The girl had bruises and light scarring, but she also managed to splinch herself that same evening. Lack of quality medical care means they're taking their sweet time to figure out what caused what. 'Bunch of rubbish if you ask me." The healers, he thought — at least the ones working for the Ministry — were also an incompetent lot.

"If I was leading the investigation, we'd have an indictment already. Scrimgeour doesn't seem apologetic about whatever happened," he breathed, sliding another stack of files towards the Minister.

  

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"Well, he wouldn't, would he?" Ross posed the rhetorical question, "If he had, he would have reported her missing sooner." Or at least done something so that he appeared even mildly worried for his daughter. Instead he just - didn't.

"And Bates hasn't done anything illegal yet?" Ross said. He considered it a matter of time; that Bates had never been indicted for anything more than conspiracy was a failing of the aurors of five years ago, and the sooner he was back in Azkaban, the better.

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Edric didn't comment further on the Scrimgeour matter; from the attitudes of everyone in the office, he was going to be officially indicted, no matter how long it took. To wait too long, however, might give the wrong public appearance — something the headache-prone Edric would not appreciate.

"Bates has been in the paper, but not for crimes. We're waiting. He didn't seem too unstable — at least for having been in Azkaban for that long — but the psychopaths want you to think that." Anyone who would willingly orchestrate such a scheme was definitely fucked up, whether it was a plain lack of morals or something worse.

  

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"If he gets a wand back, we're going to have a problem," Ross said simply. It was illegal for Bates to hold a wand. But it was also pretty damn unlikely that he would go and walk on into Ollivander's; if he got a weapon, it would be by other means.

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Bates was one of many of their office's failings (Edric sure as hell wasn't taking personal responsibility for that mess), but there was two options going forward: either he'd figure out out to reintegrate into society, or, as a former member of high society, he'd be driven mad by poverty and seek a way to escape it. Either way, they'd have their eyes close on him, and, in the event of the latter, swiftly place him back where he belongs. (Hell, he'd do it personally if need be.)

"All wand shops in magical Britain are aware of Bates and his former misdoings," he commented. "If he tries to purchase a wand, they also know to alert authorities. We're taking great care to watch cases involving stolen wands as well." Edric, personally, hoped he would try something so they could lock him right up again; he hated the notion of having a convict they weren't allowed not to keep an eye on.

  

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"That should handle that, then," Ross agreed. Bates could be handled swiftly and easily -- or maybe he had been reformed, and they wouldn't have to do anything. Somehow, Ross doubted that.

"Are there any other cases I should be aware of?" Ross asked, "I know the laywers were debating the whole veela thing the other month." Fucking veela. Ross thought that the ban on marriage between species was stupid -- but the Wizengamot would not be repealing it so soon after an incident. It could wait.

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Ugh, the last thing he wanted to talk about was veela. He didn't really know how those creatures managed to find their way into British society — even to find a wealthy husband they'd have to come from somewhere. Perhaps Minister Ross should send the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to see if there were new colonies (flocks?) of veela on the coasts.

"Half the lawyers believe the veela should be granted the same rights as any other beings — others think they should lose their being status completely and be labeled beasts," he explained with a roll of his eyes. "Unfortunately for them, another department is responsible for initiating change, and they're not apart of that department." Didn't they have other issues to concern themselves with?

  

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Ross smirked. "That's what I thought," he said, in his most exasperated tone. "Between you and me, the change would be more trouble than it's worth - there's unlikely to ever be a significant veela population in England, and being issues are a lightning rod for controversy."

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Edric nodded in full agreement. "Sadly, the magical population — the ones who don't work in law — don't seem to care much about how realistic their demands are," he said, scooping up the file that had Mrs. Juniper Lyness' face on it. "I suppose part of the job is balancing efficiency with public opinion."

  

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Ross grinned. "Exactly," he said, "And if we legislated exclusively on the whims of the public - well, that's how you get things like the half-breed ban." Thank Merlin that had lifted; lifting it had taken even more effort than the Board of Governors had demonstrated in putting it in place.

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Edric cracked a smile, albeit a subtle one. "Public opinion changes yearly; trends come and go," he agreed with a nod. "To change laws so freely and without care will only lead to people demanding much more important laws can be changed simply because it's easy." And he was an auror, not even a lawmaker! If he could see it, why couldn't the people making the decisions do the same?

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