No part of Ben was looking forward to this conversation. He could practical picture the entire thing already: the way Aldous would respond, the look that would show up on his face, the possibility of anger, the overwhelming certainty of disappointment lingering like a cloud over the whole proceeding. If there was any alternative, Ben would have explored it — any chance of not having to deal with Aldous right now, when what he wanted to do instead was to go to a pub and drink himself stupid. But that wasn't reasonable. There were problems that were pressing and that wouldn't solve themselves, and Merlin knew Ben was in no position to solve them himself. He needed help, and Aldous had been — whatever Ben sometimes thought of him — at the very least a consistent brother in that respect.

He'd gone back to the club and changed first, and shaved — which wouldn't mean much, in the grand scheme of things, but at the very least he might not give off the impression that he was a lackwit disgrace on the family name immediately. He was lucky, he supposed, that it was Saturday, and that Aldous was at home. He didn't want to be having this conversation at all, but he certainly didn't want to do it at the Ministry of Magic, within earshot of a bunch of Aldous' subordinates he didn't know.

"Er, hi," Ben said awkwardly on finding his oldest brother in the house. "I, ah, need to talk with you, if that's okay."

Aldous Crouch