WHO: Graham Montague and Gilbert Ollivander WHAT: Gilbert confronts Graham about the complaint he lodged with the DMLE WHEN: Tuesday 10 October, before Imogen got home. WHERE: The Montague-Ollivander flat WARNINGS: None.
“Graham!” Gilbert said, entering the flat angrily. Sporatic as Graham’s schedule was, he never knew when their third roommate was going to be there, and he knew it was quite possible that he was hollering into empty rooms. But if he did happen to be there, Gilbert wanted him to know that he wasn’t happy. “I know what you did, Graham. We need to talk.”
Graham looked up from where he was sitting on the couch, comic book in hand. There was a lot Gilbert could be talking about and to be honest Graham couldn’t remember what exactly it was that he could be talking about.
“Uhhhh…” is all he said in the end, deciding to just play dumb. Gilbert would probably yell more in a minute anyway.
“The owl,” Gilbert said shortly, folding his arms across his chest. “I was filing today, and ran across an owl you sent to the Hit Wizard office. Would you like to tell me more about your very sincere fear of Fred Weasley and Angelina Johnson?”
“Oh that.” Graham laughed, the tension in his shoulders releasing as he slumped back against the couch. “Just a bit of a laugh, really.”
“You can’t joke about shit like that, Graham,” Gilbert said, shaking his head. “I know what the twins did to you was awful, I’m no fan of them. But filing false reports can be considered criminal, so if they decide to investigate and determine your complaint doesn’t have standing, you could see some consequences.” And if you get fined then it’ll take even longer for you to move out, he thought, but didn’t say. “Was this over the journals? When did this happen?”
“But no one is looking into it, are they?” Graham asked lazily. “Typical.” He just shrugged. “They say a lot of shit on the journals. Acting holier-than-thou as usual.” It was typical of everyone - Fred thinking he’d done no wrong, Angelina blindly following, the rest of the world thinking Graham was the bad guy when he was the victim.
“I’m not sure, to be honest,” Gilbert admitted. “Priorities seem to have…” he paused, trying to find the right word, “Skewed lately, so I’m never quite sure what’s going to the top of the queue in terms of investigation. But still, I know they’re gits, but try not to take their bait? Just…” he shrugged, knowing Graham wasn’t likely listening, but still felt the need to give a bit of a lecture, “try to ignore them, you know?”
“Really?” Graham shot back, starting to get pissed off. “The stupid Weasleys got away with fucking ruining my life, and everyone just treats it as one big joke. Oh, who cares what happened to Graham, he deserves whatever happened to him. Fuck that.”
“It’s not that at all,” Gilbert countered, trying to lower the tension between them. “I know they’re gits, and there absolutely should have been consequences for what they did. I don’t know why there weren’t, but there should have been. But if they keep baiting you and you keep rising to the bait, they could end up screwing you over again. They might make you do something you’ll later regret. You’re not that guy, Graham, don’t let them make you act like you are.”
Graham rolled his eyes, resisting blurting out that he was going to be someone great. Someone important. He was impressing the right people, and idiots like the Weasleys would be ground into the dirt where they belonged.
“I didn’t realise dating my sister turned you into my father.”
“Come on, Graham, I’m not that bad,” Gilbert replied, though in the back of his head wondered if he was. For the most part he’d been hands-off with Graham, letting Imogen handle him, but this wasn’t something she could discuss, since she wasn’t officially privy to this information. “But I do want to make sure you’re keeping yourself out of trouble, so please just try to think twice before responding to them? Don’t let them corner you into doing something you shouldn’t. They’re gits, so don’t let them win.”
"I'm fine," Graham emphasized. Staying out of trouble wasn't something he was plnning on any time soon, but it wouldn't be the first thing he'd pretended about to either his sister or her boyfriend. "And they've already won. What more could they do to me?"
“I don’t know,” Gilbert admitted. “But let’s not find out, hey? I know you know Imogen’s on your side, but I am too. Imogen said you’ve got a job, things are starting to look up. We’ll help you get back to where you want to be however we can.”
"Yeah," Graham replied vaguely. "You can't give me my Quidditch career back, though."
“Yeah,” Gilbert said with a sigh. It really wasn't fair what the Wesleys had done to him without repercussion. “You'll find something you love just as much, though. Or almost as much, at least. You're a smart guy,” he added, defaulting to smart though perhaps it wasn't exactly the most accurate word to use to describe Graham. “The right career is out there, you've just got to find it.”
"I'm sure I will." Graham was pretty sure that he'd eventually impress the Lestranges and the Inner Circle (and the Dark Lord) enough to be given a lucrative position. "... you're not going to tell Imogen about the report, are you?"
Gilbert sighed. “Technically, since it's a work thing and thus confidential, I shouldn't.” He didn't like keeping things from Imogen, but he also thought that in the long run trying to earn Graham's trust might be best for everyone. “Just don't do it again, okay? I don't know that I can justify keeping too many things from her.”
"I won't," Graham agreed. There was plenty he could do more anonymously, and not anything that would end up in Gilbert's hands. Paper trails could be avoided easily enough. "And thanks." He half-smiled, glancing over at the comic he'd been reading. Had they finished talking about this now?
“No problem,” Gilbert said, still a little uneasy at keeping it from Imogen but thinking it was for the best. He hesitated for a moment, as if trying to decide if he should say something else, then shook his head, heading into the kitchen to start on dinner.