March 17th — Celtic Street Fair

Here I am, saying things to you
I never thought that I'd say outside my head
Maybe Ben had had more to drink than he remembered; that would be one possible explanation for wandering away from his conversation with Ellory Pendergast wondering what the hell had just happened. Then again, maybe she was just crazy. It wasn't the first time that his interactions with her had left him confused, wondering if maybe he'd missed something. Maybe it was her, or maybe it was all of the Pendergasts (her sister, after all, had been the inspiration behind his exile to Canada). Maybe it was worse even than that: maybe it was all women. Except it couldn't be all women, because Ben had had plenty of experiences with women that had ended pleasantly enough.

Rich girls, he thought with no terribly small degree of bitterness. This was not the first time he had hypothesized that essentially every woman his brothers would have deemed to have been of an appropriate social station for him to associate with was batshit insane, but at the moment, in the heat of the conversation he'd just broken off with Ellory, it suddenly seemed as though the evidence in favor of this theory was growing insurmountable. He bought another drink, but decided he'd do best to drink it on his way back to Excalibur — he wasn't much in the mood for continuing to wander the street fair. Or he wasn't, anyway, until he spotted a familiar face. The face was all that was familiar, really, since Ben couldn't remember her name, but he knew they'd had a few conversations in the past, and suddenly some part of him decided he had a pressing need to talk to her.

"Oh, hey, it's you," he said in greeting, with a wide, jovial grin. "I'm sorry, I forgot your name. I forgot whether you ever even told me your name but I assume you must've." This, while true, was not usually the sort of thing that Ben would have admitted to if he could suavely avoided it. It certainly wasn't what he typically opened conversations with, but the words had spilled out of his mouth before he'd had a chance to think them through. Why was he even talking to her in the first place? He didn't really know, but now that he was, he apparently wasn't going to stop. The next words spilled out just as quickly and easily as their predecessors had, as though speech had become something slippery and quick that he had to consciously try to hold on to in order to keep it to himself. "You grew up with money, didn't you?"

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   Bella Scrimgeour

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Bella had on more than one occasion had a drink that had caused some ill effects (mostly during her time at Hogwarts as pranks from her friends or older students), but being Bella it was no surprise that she hadn't learned from those mistakes. She'd been wandering around the Celtic fair for the evening — probably away from her chaperon, but it's not that it would likely do anymore damage to her already-spotty reputation.

The drink, which she'd thought only had a small amount of alcohol in it, seemed to have loosened her up quite a bit. She turned to the male who'd approached her (Mr. Crouch, wasn't it? She couldn't really remember which one of them he was in her state, but she knew the last name) and smiled a bit too brightly at him.

"Don't worry!" she chirped without care, "I know that you're the most least successful Crouch brother, but that's about it! My name's Bella Scrimgeour," she responded. Her cheeks flushed when she realized what she'd actually said, but upon trying to open her mouth to apologize, she only got worse.

"Of course I didn't grow up with money — you haven't heard of me? I grew up with poor muggles, and the Scrimgeours kidnapped me from them when they figured out who I really was," she answered, unable to stop herself from revealing her true feelings.

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   Reuben Crouch

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

The phrase least successful Crouch brother was not one that was inherently insulting. As a matter of fact, he sometimes jokingly used it to describe himself, depending on the company. It was, however, something that he was a little sensitive about, particularly since his exile to Canada and the subsequent cooling of his relationship with his older brothers, and so he felt the need to address it — in spite of the unarguably more dramatic information she'd followed the assertion with.

"Less successful by their standards, sure," he said with a shrug. "I'm by far the most handsome." And I've actually been with a woman, which might be more than the two of them can say. He refrained from adding the last half of the statement out loud, but only just. He was no stranger to having some loosened lips after a few drinks, but he usually had a good deal more sensibility than this. Though judging by the rather sensational item his conversation partner had just shared, he wasn't alone in that department. Had she really been kidnapped?

"That might explain why you aren't awful," he said amiably. "But no, I didn't hear about you. Or maybe I did and forgot. I don't know your name, remember?" he pointed out. This couldn't possibly have been a recent thing, could it? He'd met her last spring, he thought, and she hadn't seemed like a poor Muggle at the time — but she also hadn't seemed like a recovering kidnapping victim. "But I spend a lot of time out of the country, so I don't hear much," he explained, then added for no good reason whatsoever, "Most of it by choice."

  

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MJ made this <3

Bella nodded her head in understanding, and then in agreement. "You are very handsome," she admitted with a pink tint to her cheeks. She didn't think she'd ever admitted to a man — at least to one who was not related to her — that she found him attractive, which made her all the more jumble-worded. She wanted to get past any mention of attraction, lest she lose all ability to speak. Besides, he didn't have the type of features she'd grown to love most: green eyes, freckles, and— "You're just a little short, though. Maybe even shorter than me!" she pondered, standing up on her tiptoes for a moment. He couldn't have been any taller than her, at least.

She was a wreck, and she definitely needed to shut up. But she couldn't — not yet.

"My name's Bella, I just told you!" she explained with a dramatic roll of her eyes. "Mostly by choice? What, does your family send you away, too?" she asked curiously.

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   Reuben Crouch

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

Usually it was Reuben being the overly bold one in conversations, not the other way around. It was sort of his modus operandi when it came to flirting, really: say something so bluntly charming that women didn't know how to respond except to giggle and wave their fans. He wasn't expecting to have the tactic used on him, and felt his cheeks get a little warmer in response.

He considered saying thanks, but you're too tall, and... well, all together average, really, only of course he wasn't going to actually say that. What on earth was he thinking? She saved him from the impulse by asking a question, to which Ben responded immediately and honestly.

"Sometimes. When they think it's inconvenient to have me in the country." With another slight flush, he added, "Or when there are pretty rich girls with crazy families involved."

  

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Pretty rich girls with crazy families? Hopefully he didn't go getting himself attached to Araminta; she was by far the prettiest between the two of them, and Bella was sure the Scrimgeours worried far more about her. Not that Araminta, the epitome of propriety, would be caught dead with this Crouch. Bella opened her mouth to say something that likely would have gotten her in trouble if anyone would've overheard, but managed to stumble and let out a giggle as they walked. Perhaps this drink (apart from whatever magical properties it had) also contained too much alcohol.

"What, you gone and got yourself attached to one of them? Let me guess — a Lestrange? That Lupin girl, maybe?" she asked with a laugh, tugging on the parts of her dress that were beginning to feel a tad too tight.

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

Ben was aware that there was nothing good that could come of his sharing such personal details with a near stranger (although he was going to make an effort to remember her name; forgetting it once was forgivable, but forgetting it twice in one conversation really wasn't, no matter how much he'd had to drink). He hadn't even told people he trusted about this latest development with the princess. Art hadn't even heard that they'd reconnected in that shop a month ago, he didn't think, so his best friend probably still thought that he was avoiding Ellory Pendergast for his own good. Maybe he should have been.

Ill-advised or not, however, it seemed that he feeling compelled to talk to Miss — it was Scrimgeour, wasn't it? Hopefully so, because if it was something else he'd already forgotten. Ben found himself admitting almost reluctantly, "Sort of a Lestrange. Though I wouldn't say we're attached."

That was sort of the entire crux of the matter. To Ben, they were two fun-loving people who had decided to have some fun together; writing each other or flirting or even kissing didn't hold any sort of inherent obligation for him. He had no intention of cleaning up his act and asking for permission to court her, much less going through the steps that would be necessary to get any farther than kissing 'legitimately.' Ellory had to have different ideas, though, or else she wasn't thinking about it at all — he couldn't be sure with her.

"She might say we're attached," he supplied with an awkward shrug.

  

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MJ made this <3

Sort of a Lestrange? How could some be sort of a Lestrange? Perhaps a mother, or maybe their sister was married to one? Whatever, it didn't really matter. Being attached was a fickle thing, because feelings weren't always shared and it was hard to tell someone about them without risking embarrassment or being improper. It was just like when she had crushes (not that she really had ever had many before) and she was ninety percent sure her affections weren't returned!

"What, do you not love her?" she asked curiously, following him without question. She didn't even know where they were heading in particular, but she didn't recognize the stands they were passing. "It's not very nice to make girls think you love them. They start getting ideas, even if they're not the ones doing the loving," she explained.

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

The girl's words were starting to sound a little like an accusation to Ben's ears, even though they clearly were not intended to be such. Her little monologue was just a little too close to the internal debate he'd been having with himself for most of the past summer, and as such hit close to home.

"I never said I loved her," he burst out defensively. "It's not like I was trying to lead her on. I told her I'm rubbish with these things and that I didn't want to get all cutesy and start courting or anything like that — not like they'd even let me, y'know, with the reputation I've got. She's the one who came up with all this romantic stuff. Ideas," he continued, latching on to the word she had used and deciding it was ultimately the most appropriate for the situation at hand. "I wasn't trying to give her ideas. I was specifically trying not to give her any ideas. I don't know how much clearer I could've been about all that. I basically told her I was a cad — well, no, not basically, literally. I literally told her I was a cad."

Merlin, was he still talking?

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   Bella Scrimgeour

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MJ made this <3

Bella stopped in her tracks and stared at him as he went on his verbal tirade, her eyebrows raised as high as possible.

"I think 'mad' would be a better word than 'cad'," she giggled, her lips tugging up into the slightest smile. Bella didn't have the ability to be angry on any form of alcoholic beverage, let alone one that made her speak her mind; everything was funny, or she could at least find a way to make it funny to her.

"But really, Mr. Crouch, if it's so stressful, then why do you keep going back? Men don't go back to women who cause them problems if they don't love them," she pointed out. It was true. When women caused men issues, they ran for the hills and were never to be seen again!

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

"Yeah, well, maybe I —" won't, was what he wanted to say, but even in the direct aftermath of the little fall-out he'd had with the princess, he knew that wasn't true. Normally he would have had no qualms about saying so anyway — he was a terrible brag in most areas of his life and tended to downplay his emotional investment in everything, from women to his career choices. For some reason, though, he just couldn't bring himself to say the word. It seemed inappropriate, for some reason, to lie. Was it something about Miss Scrimgeour that gave him that impression, or was it just that he'd already gotten himself in enough trouble for the day that he didn't have any more energy to spend on damage control? Whatever the case, he stopped talking and gave a noncommital shrug.

"I really shouldn't," he admitted, which was not in any sense of the word a lie. "Her family is crazy and they hate me and it's probably just a matter of time before this all blows up in my face again. And I'm pretty sure just the thought of us talking would give my oldest brother a nervous conniption. And she really is trouble," he added with a frown.

  

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Bella genuinely frowned. Perhaps she'd been taking his story a little too lightly; he legitimately looked down about it. Bella didn't have enough experience with love to have even considered the conflicting emotions he'd been experiencing.

"Well it doesn't seem like you're any less trouble. Maybe you are suited well for each other," she started with a shrug. "At least you know someone will have you if you choose to have them. You should be happy you're actually wanted." Bella didn't have that luxury. Perhaps she'd let herself go because she knew the worst that could happen was her own disownment, but then she'd probably run off to a friend's house or go find the Draper family again. It's not like she had a happy future to look forward to with her reputation.

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

Ben frowned. This conversation seemed to have taken a turn for the serious, and after the argument he'd had with Ellory he wasn't much in the mood to seriously discuss the future of his love life with anyone. "It's not hard to find someone to have some fun with," he said a bit evasively. There had been a slight note of self-pity in her words, he thought, which implied perhaps that she thought this whole business of finding someone you were attracted to was much more complicated than it was. Perhaps he was imagining it, but either way, it was a perfect distraction from continuing to talk about himself.

"You've probably had some fun, right?" he asked curiously. "Pretty girl like you? Especially if you didn't grow up with money and aren't crazy and uptight and awful."

  

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MJ made this <3

Her? Have fun? That was a new one, especially with what Mr. Crouch was implying. She wasn't offended, though; there had been plenty of boys and girls in the village she'd grown up in that had been less than proper. Her mother, however, had kept a tight leash on her during her younger years. And then after that... well, she hadn't been there anymore.

"I'm not sure what kind of fun you'd expect an eleven-year-old to have except climbing trees and chasing the other children around," she responded, providing an explanation that even sober Bella might have given. "The Scrimgeours have kept a tight hold on me since I started Hogwarts. I've always been the failure twin—" Which, now that she thought about it, was a detail Mr. Crouch probably hadn't known about, but he did now. "—and they were insistent that I would be her equal one day. Guess I didn't live up to their expectations."

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

"That sounds like plenty of fun," Ben said agreeably, wondering whether Ellory Pendergast had ever, in her entire life, climbed a tree. It didn't seem like the sort of thing her late mother would have approved of. The idea that someone as otherwise vibrant as the princess might go through her entire life without doing something as simple as climbing a tree suddenly struck him as absurdly tragic, and he wished that he'd had the sense to suggest something like that when they'd been alone together in Mexico. It wasn't as though he reasonably could have gotten her anywhere near a tree during any of their more supervised interactions, and he certainly had no chance of doing so now.

He was distracted from this sudden melancholy by the continuation of Miss Scrimgeour's story, and he couldn't help but feel as though she was describing his life, too. He may not have been a twin, but he and Roman were close enough in age that comparisons between the two of them had been a fact of life for his entire childhood. Of course, he had always been woefully disappointing compared to Roman.

"I know all about that," he said with a nod. "Expectations. A toast to expectations," he proposed, raising his nearly-empty cup. "And then another to not meeting them. Do you need another drink? I can buy you one."

  

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MJ made this <3

Expectations were fickle things. Sometimes she cared about them, such as the ones her bosses at the hospital placed upon her. She didn't like failing — really — but some expectations, such as the ones the Scrimgeours had held her too seemed almost impossible to reach. What was the point of even trying when there was no chance of pleasing them? She might as well make the choices that made her the happiest, because she'd be living with them forever!

"To stupid expectations," she agreed, raising her glass in a toast. She took one last swig and noticed rather quickly that her own fingertips were beginning to feel numb. Not good. "I probably shouldn't," she insisted, turning her empty cup upside down to demonstrate the amount she'd actually consumed. Despite matching Mr. Crouch in height, she still had a much smaller, much thinner frame than he did; she probably shouldn't have consumed the entire thing.

"I wouldn't mind drinking with you again, though!" Her words were both teasing and sincere, though the flush on her cheeks made it apparent that the topics of their conversation (many of which were deeply personal to the both of them) had caused her just a teeny bit of embarrassment. "You know, if we ever run into each other again."

  

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— MJ is MAGICAL —