Due to his morning's activities, Albus was running slightly late for work. He was just about to punch in when a voice from behind him said,
"The boss wants a word."
He turned to see Ms. Preston, his boss's secretary and general go-between for the management level and the manual labor of the cannery. Her look was rather grim.
"Why?" Albus asked uneasily.
"Ask him yourself." She said shortly, before walking away.
.
.
"You wanted to see me sir?" Albus said, pushing the door open.
His boss, Mr. Weaver, sat behind a large mahogany desk. Weaver had been a good-looking man in his youth, and still cut an impressive figure in middle-age, although his job of sitting all day had led to the beginnings of a pot-belly. He was on good terms with many of his employees, cracking jokes and slapping shoulders during lunch breaks. However he, like everyone else there, didn't talk to Albus if the could help it.
"Come in and shut the door." He said. Then, "I want you to look out that window, and think about what you see.
Albus did so, utterly baffled. For a few long moments he didn't know what he was supposed to be looking at. Then the realization hit him like a freight train. The window looked down on the very spot where he had kissed Gellert the previous day. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
"It's not what you think –" He began, not knowing what excuse he was going to give.
"Don't lie to me. I know a boy when I see one, even from a second story window."
He closed his eyes, reeling in shock for a moment. His first instinct was to try and contain the damage.
"I do my job well. My family needs the money. Please, overlook this one small thing –"
"It's no small thing. I'd suggest asking the Lord to forgive you before asking me. Now get out of my building."
For a moment Albus had the overwhelming urge to punch Mr. Weaver in the face. He forced himself to take a deep breath, while his mind raced a mile a minute.
Violence wouldn't solve this. Magic would be more intelligent. But it was illegal for a wizard to use magic against a muggle to 'harm them, deny them their rights, or infringe on their will'. Self-defense was a different matter, but defending himself from being fired didn't count.
Not only was using magic to alter Mr. Weaver's decision illegal, but to Albus it was also very dishonorable. He believed that tampering with a person's mind was violating them on the most basic level. Certain rights should never be taken from anyone, he believed, and that included the right to have an opinion. Up until now that ethic had been purely theoretical, and it wavered like a flame in the wind of his current situation.
No. He wouldn't let this muggle cause him to compromise his values. Or cause him to break the law and possibly get arrested. It wasn't worth it.
It was a stomach-churning sensation when he realized there was nothing he could do – or nothing he would do, at least. He was not powerless, but in a position in which he could not use the power he had. He was playing a game with foreign rules, and because of that he had been defeated.
"I believe I'm due some sort of severance pay." He said at last, when he couldn't think of anything else to say or do which would not break the law.
"You're lucky I don't call the police on you, you worthless queer. Now get out, I will not ask you again."
.
.
As soon as the shock wore off, the only thing on Albus's mind was finding the one person who was likely to offer him sympathy. Losing his job had been terrible, and breaking the news to his family wasn't going to be any better. He shuddered at what Aberforth would say, and the toll this new crisis would take on his sister's already tenuous sense of security.
He couldn't face it. Not yet, not ever, it seemed to him at that moment. So when he apperated back to Godrick's Hollow, he went not to his own house but to Bathtilda's.
Albus knocked on the door, fervently hoping that Gellert would answer. It wasn't much of a surprise when Bathtilda opened the door and ushered Albus inside. It was, after all, clearly not his lucky day.
"Why hello. You're out of work very early dear." She commented as they passed through the entry hall.
He forced a smile. "Muggle machinery breaks down all the time. No telling when they'll have things up and running again."
She seemed to swallow this without hesitation. For once, wizard arrogance or at least ignorance of the muggle world was a boon to him.
"Is Gellert here?"
"Upstairs in his room last time I checked – he's ever so quiet, that boy, almost like living with no one at all. I was afraid at first that…"
Albus threw manners to the wind and edged up the stairs, while Bathtilda walked in the direction of the living room, seemingly unaware that Albus was no longer behind her. He would pay for it later, he assumed. At the moment, offending Bathtilda was the least of his worries.
.
.
Gellert was on his bed reading when Albus knocked on the door.
"Come in." He said, knowing already who it would be. Bathtilda, probably due to the habits of living alone, never remembered to knock.
Gellert immediately noticed two things: one, Albus was home from work much too soon. Two: he was upset, but trying not to show it.
Being a smart person and attempting to be more 'caring' of late, he dispensed with any questions and opted to simply get up and embraced Albus tightly.
Albus felt as though a string that had been holding him unnaturally rigid had been cut. He didn't melt, exactly, but some of the tension left him. He longed to forget the world outside of that room, forget anything beyond the comforting warmth of his love's arms around him.
Gellert took his hand and led him over to the bed. Only when they were both seated did he ask, "What happened?"
Albus recounted the day's events in a deceptively calm voice, all the while fighting against a lingering tightness in his throat. He would not cry, that wouldn't help anything.
"I've never had someone look at me with so much contempt." He finished. It was a foolish thing to say – what did it matter how Mr. Weaver viewed him? Compared to the loss of his paycheck and the shortage his family would now face, why was he muddling over hurt feelings?
Gellert moved to sit behind him, bringing up his hands to rub the tension from Albus's shoulders.
"They're only muggles." Gellert said. "Backwards, clueless, misguided. Compared to you, he is a grain of sand against a mountain, a slug to a noble eagle. He doesn't deserve to be in the same room with you, and he certainly does not deserve your pain on his account."
"I wouldn't care so much, except…it's all my fault. If I hadn't been so careless, so stupid –"
"–I will not hear you speaking that way for one moment." Gellert interrupted. "You are in the right here, all the blame falls on him, and the society in which he lives."
"But I had to play by the rules of that society in order to feed my siblings."
"Your family will not starve, not with you and me looking after it. Don't see our innocent little kiss as a mistake. You and I are true to ourselves in a world that's against us. Of course we'll encounter difficulties. But you mustn't blame yourself, that's letting them win."
"Aberforth is going to kill me."
"Let him get a job then."
"He's needed here. I can trust him to look after Ariana in my absence; I'm not able to deal with her anywhere near as well as he does."
"I could try. I mean, we only just met but our relationship is quite good. Or, you could both stay here and I could get a job."
"No – you're not even living here; I couldn't sleep soundly at night knowing you were supporting me."
"Why the hell not? I'm a man too; I'm allowed to be chivalrous when it comes to those I love."
"Do you even have the documentation necessary to work in Brittan?"
"I could fake it well enough to fool any muggle."
"Oh Gel…"
"Don't 'oh Gel' me, I've done it plenty of times before and I've never been caught yet."
"Just…wait. Before you break any laws – any more laws, I should say – let me talk about it with my brother. I can look for other work, maybe he can get something that doesn't take up too much time."
"So what, you're the wage-earner and I stay home and cook and clean? I'm not sure I'm okay with that."
"That's not what I'm asking of you. Let me try to solve it my way, and if that doesn't work…"
"You'll do it the less admirable and more effective way?"
"Yes."
Already Albus felt that a huge burden had been lifted off him. There was still the very real, very pertinent issue of money, but Gellert taken away the shame underlying it, the pain.
.
.
(A/N I haven't faced much discrimination in my life, thankfully, but when I have it was a truly devastating sense of helplessness and injustice. For all the facts and figures given about discrimination due to gender, race, sexuality and such, I think it's equally important to put a human face on the whole thing - to see the people behind the numbers and whatnot. *Rant rant* On another note, it's a fascinating issue to think about the morality of tampering with a person's memory and opinions. It's a very profound insight to Albus's character to see that he is true to his ethics even when it costs him. Thanks for reading!)