April 14th, 1891 — Spirit Division, Ministry of Magic

Despite having worked in the Spirit Division for nearly seven years now, Ford wasn't used to being treated as someone who had any authority whatsoever. In a lot of ways he still felt like the most junior member of the team despite the fact that he'd actually accrued quite a bit of experience in the division. When George approached him with a problem, then, his first reaction was to be a bit bemused. Surely there was someone else who was better suited to help?

Ford was certainly willing to help, though. Having shared a dormitory with George Robins for seven years at school had given him a fondness for the other man, and when he'd transferred to the Spirit Division Ford wanted nothing more than to see him succeed. So he'd offered to take a look at the case that was giving George trouble, and give advice if he could. Having looked over the paperwork, though, Ford was at a bit of a loss. It was open-and-shut, or appeared to be, so he didn't know what he could offer advice on. The Division had already issued a strict no-contact order on the spirit in question, and according to the complaint lodged earlier that week he was violating it.

"Well, to be honest, it seems pretty straight forward," he admitted almost reluctantly. "Did you already go talk to him?"

George Robins Roberto Devine

  

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Set by Lady!

The Spirit Division operated a little differently than the Goblin office did. At least ghosts generally couldn't stab him though. Some just looked really scary or were very mean. Some were both.

This particular spirit he had to deal with was both. He seemed intent on harassing the descendants of the family his former wife had gone on to have with another man after his death. He had done his best to enforce the no contact order. He had been told to bugger off along with a collection of other obscenities. He had at least managed bot to cry but it had been close.

He was at a loss of what to do.

So he decided to nudge Ford for some help. Among all the other employees, Ford was the easiest to approach even if he was not in the 'George can meet your eye when he talks' category. He was at least in the 'George will talk at a decibel you can actually hear him' category.

His cheeks flushed when Ford said it was pretty straight forward. "I did, yes," George murmured softly. "I even said please."

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   Elias Grimstone, Fortitude Greengrass

Ford frowned at George's remark, then looked back down at the file on his lap. This didn't particularly seem like the spirit who would care much about whether or not George said please, so he wasn't surprised to hear that hadn't made a difference. It was sort of sweet, though. Sweet but unhelpful, like offering a lollipop to someone who had expressed an interest in murdering you.

"Well," he said, running his tongue over his teeth as he tried to think of what to say about this. "I usually start by trying to figure out what they want, and then seeing if there's a way they can get it that makes both parties happy. Did you try that?"

What the ghost wanted on the surface of things would be fairly evident, of course — he wanted to harass the living people, who were not inclined to compromise on their desire not to be harassed. In a lot of cases, though, Ford had found that the root of the disagreement was something the spirit thought was vitally important that the living people didn't care a wit about. He'd had a case similar to this one a while ago, where a spirit had been absolutely livid that his heirloom quill set was locked away in the attic, disused and unseen. The family had no desire to display it in their home, but were happy to donate it to the Museum of Magical Miscellany, which had appeased their dead relation.

  

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Set by Lady!

"Yes but the other party were very opposed to dropping dead," George said, prompt in his answer. "Or becoming unborn." George had found him to be quite disagreeable and unpleasant. No wonder he had been murdered.

"Maybe he wants justice for his death? It was a murder that never got solved according to his information." Whoever had done it was long dead and he doubted the womans family would choose to tarnish their ancestors name when they themselves had no relation to the spirit. And how could they go about solving a 300 year old murder anyway?

  

Ford sighed at George's answer. "Yes, people generally are," he allowed dryly. He'd been hoping that perhaps George had been able to get a little farther than that, but it appeared not. Whatever the ghost said, though, that wasn't really what he wanted. That was just a symptom of his feeling very upset about something for a very long time, most likely. (There was a chance that he was a serial killer in life and that was, in fact, all he wanted, but Ford rather doubted it; he would have become a problem a lot earlier if that was the case).

What George suggested next was a better possibility, because it was something that at least could be resolved amicably, even if it was far outside of the Spirit Division's expertise. Ford would wager this ghost probably knew who had killed him already, but also that the responsible party was probably dead by now, so what where they meant to do about it? Sue the murderer's descendants? Still, it was possible that there could be some avenue for redress there — if that was actually what the spirit wanted. The way George had phrased it sounded as though perhaps he was speculating rather than speaking from experience.

"Did you ask him about his murder?" Ford prompted gently, hoping that George had more behind his suggestion than just a vague hunch. But if he'd gone to talk to the ghost already surely they must have covered something beyond the ghost saying he wanted all the members of the family dead and George saying stop saying that, please. Surely?

  

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Set by Lady!

"Well, no," George answered, shuffling like he had been caught doing something bad. Like that time he had eaten a sweet before dinner when his mother had said to save it for dessert.

"I thought it might hurt his feelings to talk about his death. And he looked at me awful mean when he saw me staring at the letter opener in his back."

  

Ford sighed. He'd thought it might hurt his feelings? It had been three hundred years ago, so it wasn't was though it was a fresh wound. "I've found they don't mind most of the time," he informed George in a placid tone. "At any rate, they're not half so sensitive about it as living people are." And not a hundredth as sensitive about it as George probably was, judging by the look on his face.

"I'm sorry if he... looked at you mean," Ford said, a little awkwardly. It just sounded like such a ridiculous thing to be upset about that even saying it sounded strange to him. "But there's only two options, really, with a case like this. You talk him through it, or you... escalate," Ford concluded, with a helpless shrug as if to say I don't make the rules.

  

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Set by Lady!

George supposed that might be true, Ford was more experienced than he was with them so obviously knew more. At the same time, George didn't think he would like it brought to attention that he was so disliked he got murdered. Not even centuries later.

"Won't you please come with me to talk to him? Just this once so I can see you in action? I will owe you loads," he said, meeting the other man's eyes for what was probably the third time in their entire time of knowing one another. "I'll buy you a chocolate frog and an ale."

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   Fortitude Greengrass

Ford met George's eyes for a moment, his expression impassive. Internally, he groaned. He didn't really have time for this. He had his own caseload, and he had things going on outside of work that were taking up more of his mental space than a typical week — things like the dementor in the wardrobe that he was still babysitting and Grace's debut that needed to be planned and the scarf loitering on his desk that he felt very guilty about but didn't know how to return. And he was even busier than usual, because the Santa Antonina rescue had gotten everything muddled around and some of the people in Spirit Division were off helping out other departments that were short staffed. Maybe if George had asked a month ago, this wouldn't have been a big deal, but now... he just really did not have the capacity to be taking on extra work, besides his own.

"Well, alright," he said after a moment, tone obviously reluctant. "If you think it'll help." (Ford already knew it would). "And you don't have to buy me anything," he added. "But just this once, alright?"

  

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Set by Lady!

George quickly looked away after Ford had met his eyes. How did people manage to do that all the time? It was emotionally draining.

George caught on to the reluctance in Fords tone and immediately regretted this entire conversation. He wouldn't be surprised if Ford hated him now. He hated the very idea of it. "You don't have to if you don't want to. I'm sure you're very busy." His anxieties were flaring up as he fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

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   Fortitude Greengrass

"I'm not too busy," Ford said immediately, though he really was. It was just that George was fiddling with the edge of his shirt, and Ford couldn't stand to think that he'd made someone else uncomfortable, particularly not someone he'd considered a friend all through school.

"I could do it right after lunch today. How's that sound?" he asked, already making some quick mental calculations with how he would balance the rest of the day to make it work. Hopefully it wouldn't take long, but you never could tell. It was an open and shut case, but he suspected it would be better for George's career prospects if Ford coached him through it, rather than just doing the whole thing himself, which meant it would take at least twice as long. But if he got ahead on some of his afternoon paperwork during his lunch break, he could probably still manage it. If he fell behind, maybe he could get George to pitch in and help him finish up a few of the reports he would have been working on otherwise... though more likely he'd just stay late and do them himself, to avoid making George feel as though he'd been an inconvenience.

  

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Set by Lady!

George was still a little uncertain but Ford was providing a time that would mean getting it over and done with. He was certain that Ford had many other responsibilities but George really did want his help. He felt so selfish for accepting instead of further declining. Ford may have said that he did not need to do anything but George was likely to leave him a tin of homebaked cookies as thanks.

“That would be wonderful. If you have the time to.” George was the sort to make sure several times over that someone was okay with doing something with him. He was well aware that he could sometimes be trying on the patience of other people. "If you don't want me getting you anything than please at least accept that I owe you a favor you can cash in at any time.""

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   Fortitude Greengrass

Ford shrugged and let out a little huff of laughter under his breath. "All right, a favor then," he agreed. He didn't imagine he'd ever take George up on the offer, but recognized that it would probably make him feel a little better if Ford seemed to be getting something out of the exchange. If Ford just offered to help without asking for anything in return, it was like charity, and no one ever wanted to feel as though they were on the receiving end of a charity. Ford could understand that; the desire not to be a burden, no matter how much help you felt you needed.

"I don't suppose you have a spare debutante gown laying around that would fit my sister?" he joked, to lighten the air a bit. Of course, he knew George didn't — or if his sister had any dresses laying around, they wouldn't have been grand enough to suit a debut. If he'd thought there was a chance that George might actually be able to offer him something in that vein, he wouldn't have said it to begin with — that same thing about not wanting to be on the receiving end of charity, he supposed. Or at least to look like he wasn't on the receiving end of charity — Ford would have been willing to sacrifice a great deal of his pride if it helped Grace through her debut, but he couldn't sacrifice a shred of their reputation. It was the only real advantage the Greengrass family had left.

  

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Set by Lady!

George felt relief when Ford accepted his offer of a favor in return for his help. At the mention of a debutante gown, George chuckled. Gus was not the sort for such things so that was a definite no. "I am afraid not. I am capable enough with a needle and thread but I don't think it would be to your sisters standards." He mostly just mended things or sewed up pretty little things for his mother to enjoy. It couldn't be much fun to be restricted to a bed so George did like to make sure her surroundings were pretty.

"Who is it debuting? Grace? I can hardly believe she is now old enough for it." He had not really met her but had heard her name mentioned a couple of times in the years he had known Ford.

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"Yeah, I don't imagine so," Ford responded with a good-natured smile. Nothing against George's sewing skills, but he doubted the other man was up to professional quality. Though to be honest, he was a bit surprised that George knew how to sew at all. Ford didn't, and he'd always imagined that it was difficult... or maybe difficult was the wrong word, but at least time-consuming to learn and get good at. That was his impression of most things that were generally considered feminine arts; they were only reserved for women because most women stayed at home doing nothing else with their day, so they had plenty of time to hone skills that a working man wouldn't have been able to do. Probably rich blokes who were gentlemen of leisure could have learned to sew, too, if they had any inclination. It just seemed strange to think that George would have a day job, the same job Ford had, and then would go home and do something that Ford thought took a long time and a lot of dedicated effort.

"Mmhm, Grace," he continued, with a nod. "She was actually old enough last year, but —" Ford left off with a shrug, assuming George would remember that his father had died recently and put the pieces together. "So it'll be her and Verity both out this season. We'll stay busy, that's for sure."

  

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Set by Lady!

George nodded sympathetically when Ford mentioned that she had been old enough last year. Of course she would not have debuted then, not in the throes of mourning. He wondered how his friend was doing now with all that. He had a moment of wondering what it was like to be head of the house before remembering he was technically one too. Not that it said much for a working class household. Especially one like his family where Gus was the one George looked to about things.

"You'll be dancing at balls and the like all night long then coming to work during the day," George chuckled softly in a rare moment of teasing.

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