April 7th, 1890 — Portkey Office

Well, this was awkward.

Ben had not exactly expected this meeting to be pleasant, given the subject matter. He was petitioning to have his rights to requisition portkeys reinstated, after several years of having to acquire them through the Black Market (not a detail he planned to mention during this meeting) or else leave England, whenever he chose to do so, by flying for several hours across the Channel and into France and then trying to go somewhere from there. It was terribly inconvenient — and aside from being illegal, black market portkeys were also of questionable trustworthiness. Now that he had a wife to look after, it seemed irresponsible to roll the dice on his safety any time he wanted to go abroad. Particularly when the direction his job had taken, after his impromptu trip to Paris, would see him going abroad much more frequently to maintain this new contract with the Parisienne champagne purveyor.

He was very well aware, however, that he hadn't exactly done anything to prove he could be trusted with portkeys since they had been taken away from him for irresponsible usage several years ago. So he had expected to have to beg, and he had expected it to be painful. He had not expected to have to beg from Julius Scrimgeour, who was probably under the impression (along with half of Britain) that Ben had slept with his sister, and that that had been the impetus for their father spiraling off the rails and into Azkaban.

Not that it was Ben's fault Argus Scrimgeour was patently insane, but. Well, probably best to avoid bringing it up, if he could manage it.

"So the ban has been in place for nearly three years," Ben said awkwardly as the man across the table flipped through his appeal package. "And there were just the two incidents, initially."

What else was he supposed to say here? And I promise not to do it again? Merlin.

Julius Scrimgeour

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Handling Reuben Crouch's anything had been something Julius hoped to avoid—especially given the rumours that his estranged sister had handled something very specific for the other wizard. The appointment, though, had fallen into his lap at the last minute, the colleague with whom it had been scheduled callously having been befuddled the day before.

(He would be fine, but Julius was not certain that he would be).

Personal feelings aside (or shuffled half an inch to the left, at least), there was very little that the portkey office employee knew about Reuben Crouch that would suggest the man was even vaguely trustworthy with international travel. In addition to his connections with Annabelle, he had most recently eloped with another young lady from a good family, not to mention the actual infractions that had landed him with a portkey ban to begin with. Frankly, Julius wasn't even certain why Crouch was trying.

"Just two?" Julius asked incredulously, eyebrows raised.

— Reuben Crouch —

  

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Ben shifted awkwardly in his chair. "Well," he said, at a loss as to how he was supposed to answer that question. "Two is better than three, isn't it?"

There was also the fact that he hadn't done anything wrong since then, but if this would be a mark in his favor he wasn't sure how to bring it up as such. From the perspective of the portkey office, after all, Ben shouldn't have had the opportunity to even look at a portkey for the past three years, much less use one. The fact that he hadn't left them lying about negligently was not particularly commendable. Of course, Ben had continued using portkeys quite frequently during the course of his ban, but they'd been the illegal, black-market versions, and he doubted that using those responsibly would earn him any points with the Ministry.

"And I went and got that girl back from Mexico," he pointed out, in relation to the first of the two incidents. "So there wasn't any harm done, in the end. She was only there a few hours."

He'd had to put his whole cursebreaking mission on hold for the next month in order to see her safely home, and he hadn't even gotten so much as a thank-you from her parents (who were, perhaps understandably, upset that she had disappeared in the first place and not in the mood to be grateful). It might not have been the most glowing recommendation, but it wasn't like he'd just dumped three married women in Mongolia and left them there for weeks — for example.

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"It is certainly worse, though, than the 'none' we prefer," Julius answered, the look he gave Crouch rendering his words all but unnecessary.

A beat, and then, "You understand, Mr. Crouch, why fetching the young lady from Mexico is not so much a mark in your favour as it is the very least you might have done, particularly given the report issued by her parents shortly after the fact. Let us start with why you wish to have your privileges restored, rather than why you feel you should—perhaps we might make more headway."

— Reuben Crouch —

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No, Ben thought as Scrimgeour paternalistically explained why he was obligated to go and fetch that stupid girl from Mexico. He didn't understand. Or at the very least, he didn't agree. She'd been at least partially at fault for not handing over the tennis ball when he'd asked for it. Besides, the portkey office, he thought, had to bear some portion of the blame for delivering a portkey disguised as a tennis ball to a fucking tennis court in the first place. They were supposed to be common, every day objects, sure — and look not particularly out of place to any passing Muggles — but really. That portkey had been practically begging to take the wrong person to Mexico, and it just happened to have been one he'd requisitioned. Nothing about that whole situation obligated him to put his career on hold for a month in order to go and play White Knight and rescue her.

He knew better than to say any of that, though. Even if he could convince Scrimgeour of his innocence on this count (which did not seem likely), he had no ready defense for the second incident. He'd pulled Roman along on his next cursebreaking trip intentionally, although he'd later lied to pretend it was an accident. And he'd basically done it just for shits and giggles, which he doubted Scrimgeour would think was an appropriate reason.

Luckily, they were changing the subject.

"I have international business," he said, feeling a little pompous for the way he'd phrased it but hoping it would work in his favor. "The company I work for has a new contract in France and is looking to expand to other areas, and I need to be able to travel for meetings and negotiations."

(If Scrimgeour didn't already know that it was a liquor company, Ben wasn't particularly inclined to add that detail in).

  

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"And you are their preferred fellow to see to these contracts?" Julius sought confirmation. Something about this unnamed company nagged at the corners of his mind, but he dismissed the sensation.

— Reuben Crouch —

  

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"I am," Ben confirmed. The fact that he'd had to ask was something of a slight, but it was hardly unexpected given that Scrimgeour had already made it obvious he didn't see Ben as a particularly trustworthy sort. "I'm responsible for the French contract," he added, because his answer seemed as though it needed some further support and not just two words. "I negotiated it while I was in Paris with my wife last month."

  

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Ah yes, the wife. No doubt the sojourn to Paris had been to flee social scrutiny following the elopement; at least something useful had come out of that debacle. He pondered the situation before making his decision.

"A letter from your employer will need to be kept on file," Julius said finally, "confirming the nature and necessity of your work. Your portkey requisitioning will also be limited to travel in your professional capacity—no jaunts to the Orient or flights of fancy to Finland."

— Reuben Crouch —

  

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"As though anyone would fancy a flight to Finland," Ben joked, in sudden good humor at this unexpected turn of events. Of course, he'd been hoping to have his portkey privileges reinstated, but the conversation so far had not given him much opportunity for optimism. While this wasn't a total win, it was going to allow him to take on the responsibilities at Jewell that they wanted him to have, which would in turn give him more income and more job security. And he honestly thought he would be good at it; he was a people person, and had plenty of experience with travel and interacting with others of various cultures and backgrounds. One could even say that diplomacy ran in the family, although Ben expected both Aldous and Roman would object to any sort of comparison between their much tamer version of diplomacy and Ben's.

It occurred to him that while Scrimgeour had granted his request provisionally, he may not have yet been in the mood for jokes. In a much more solemn tone, he added, "I'll have that letter sent over right away."

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