The three of them walked out of the Ministry of Magic. No one stopped them, although a few knowing glances were exchanged among the people they passed. Theseus walked at the front, his arm around Newt's shoulder. Percival noticed that Newt was a fraction taller than his brother, despite the number of times Theseus had insisted on referring to the younger man as his little brother.
They didn't apparate back, which surprised Percival slightly. He had never mastered wandless apparition, so he was relying on side-alongs for the forseeable future. But walking through the night like this, seeing the brothers whispering to each other ahead of him, was just one more way of prolonging the torture.
It made sense, he supposed. He'd carried out enough interrogations in his time. Once the pain started, it was limited. Even the cruciatus curse - it might have been the worst pain that could be experienced, but the thought of it could be more terrifying. Taking a moonlight stroll back to Theseus's apartment emphasized who was in control, and gave time for the fear to build. His skin felt almost itchy with terror, and he started considering if he could hex himself somehow, put off the inevitable - but he knew that such an action would be viewed as shameful. He had already disappointed his ancestors enough. He would accept whatever came tonight, and whatever happened the night after, and the night after that, and he wouldn't fight or scream or run.
He was a Graves. The certificates might say Scamander now, but he could still face his fate with courage.
Theseus was lost in whispering with his brother, didn't seem to have anything to say to Percival. Percival stayed close, and as they approached a building he glanced over it. The place was heavily warded, and his stomach twisted as he realised the wards were designed both to stop anyone from coming in and to stop anyone going out.
On the top step, Theseus opened the door, and then signalled both Newt and Percival inside. Walking in, Percival felt the magic brush against his skin. "You're recognised now." Theseus said. "I'm afraid we only have two rooms. There's the one Newt uses when he crashes, which you can have, and Newt will sleep in with me." He gestured down the corridor. "Kitchen is there, parlour is past it, and then this way we have a billiards room, and the two bedrooms. Newt's room is ...well, it's tidier than it was last night."
Percival nodded, not sure he trusted himself to speak. He followed the two of them along to the end of the corridor, where two doors waited. "This is our room." Theseus explained, pushing open the door. For a moment Percival caught a glimpse of garish crimson and gold. Newt darted into that room. "And this is yours."
The bedroom he was faced with had a neatly made bed, and a desk. There was a small table beside the bed, and a wardrobe in the corner. It was a perfectly serviceable room, far nicer than Percival had known in the army. The only issue was the decor.
The walls were covered in pieces of parchment, drawings on them dancing across the pages. Sometimes, the parchment wasn't in place and instead Newt had written on the wall itself. On the floor were a number of nests and a few bones, and hanging from the ceiling there were three different cocoons. The bed had a headrest that could be used to attach restraints. There was a green patch beside the bed, and as Percival watched its eyes opened and it moved a little higher up the wall. "Scamander?" He asked, pointing to it. "I think you've got a Bundimun issue." "One of my brother's pets I'm afraid. He has rather a lot of them. It hasn't destroyed the house yet, Newt feeds it daily with some sawdust. We tried moving it but it refused. Now that Newt's in my room it might make its way across the corridor."
Percival nodded. He had read about Newt's affinity for animals. He just hadn't expected it to be quite so overwhelming. "I think I'd better let you get unpacked." Theseus said after a moment. "I'm sure you're tired, transatlantic portkeying always exhausts me. If you need anything during the night, you know where we are."
"Thank you." Percival managed to say the words despite his fear, despite the bile that burned in his throat at the thought of how every kindness would make him more indebted to them. He wondered whether the state of the bedroom was a sign he wouldn't be expected to stay, or whether it was just another trick. It was good of them to give him a bed, and let him sleep in it.
Theseus left, and Percival found himself standing beside the bed. He unpacked what little he had into the drawers, placing the books he had brought him in the bookshelf. He took the aurors' leaving gifts and hid the four of them in his suitcase, before sliding it beneath the bed. He placed his shoes in front of the case, careful to line the toes up with the edge of a plank of wood so he could tell if they had been moved.
There was silence from the other rooms. He shed his robes easily, finding that a much simpler task than putting them on. He hung them up manually on a hanger in the closet, finding that he was already tired. After a lifetime of using magic to achieve the goals he wanted, he was surprised by how exhausting even simple work was.
He lay down on the bed, wearing only his pants. He lay on top of the sheet - it would be easier that way. He stared up at the ceiling and waited.
He suspected they would knock on the door to summon him when they were ready. He doubted they’d use this room – it was only a single bed, but he couldn’t be certain. He wondered if there was anything else he should have done. He glanced around the room, and noticed that the bundimun was now moving towards the ceiling. The room was dark. He strained his ears in the hope he would catch them approaching. It would be easier to hide his fear if he knew they were arriving.
He tried to breathe slowly, to keep his heart rate from racing. This was nothing he hadn't survived before. He heard the faintest of mutterings from the room beside his own, and then there was silence.
He lay awake, waiting for them to summon him.
It was only as dawn broke that he realised they might have expected him to come to them.
Fill: Who Pays The Piper (5/?)
They didn't apparate back, which surprised Percival slightly. He had never mastered wandless apparition, so he was relying on side-alongs for the forseeable future. But walking through the night like this, seeing the brothers whispering to each other ahead of him, was just one more way of prolonging the torture.
It made sense, he supposed. He'd carried out enough interrogations in his time. Once the pain started, it was limited. Even the cruciatus curse - it might have been the worst pain that could be experienced, but the thought of it could be more terrifying. Taking a moonlight stroll back to Theseus's apartment emphasized who was in control, and gave time for the fear to build. His skin felt almost itchy with terror, and he started considering if he could hex himself somehow, put off the inevitable - but he knew that such an action would be viewed as shameful. He had already disappointed his ancestors enough. He would accept whatever came tonight, and whatever happened the night after, and the night after that, and he wouldn't fight or scream or run.
He was a Graves. The certificates might say Scamander now, but he could still face his fate with courage.
Theseus was lost in whispering with his brother, didn't seem to have anything to say to Percival. Percival stayed close, and as they approached a building he glanced over it. The place was heavily warded, and his stomach twisted as he realised the wards were designed both to stop anyone from coming in and to stop anyone going out.
On the top step, Theseus opened the door, and then signalled both Newt and Percival inside. Walking in, Percival felt the magic brush against his skin.
"You're recognised now." Theseus said. "I'm afraid we only have two rooms. There's the one Newt uses when he crashes, which you can have, and Newt will sleep in with me." He gestured down the corridor. "Kitchen is there, parlour is past it, and then this way we have a billiards room, and the two bedrooms. Newt's room is ...well, it's tidier than it was last night."
Percival nodded, not sure he trusted himself to speak. He followed the two of them along to the end of the corridor, where two doors waited.
"This is our room." Theseus explained, pushing open the door. For a moment Percival caught a glimpse of garish crimson and gold. Newt darted into that room. "And this is yours."
The bedroom he was faced with had a neatly made bed, and a desk. There was a small table beside the bed, and a wardrobe in the corner. It was a perfectly serviceable room, far nicer than Percival had known in the army. The only issue was the decor.
The walls were covered in pieces of parchment, drawings on them dancing across the pages. Sometimes, the parchment wasn't in place and instead Newt had written on the wall itself. On the floor were a number of nests and a few bones, and hanging from the ceiling there were three different cocoons. The bed had a headrest that could be used to attach restraints. There was a green patch beside the bed, and as Percival watched its eyes opened and it moved a little higher up the wall.
"Scamander?" He asked, pointing to it. "I think you've got a Bundimun issue."
"One of my brother's pets I'm afraid. He has rather a lot of them. It hasn't destroyed the house yet, Newt feeds it daily with some sawdust. We tried moving it but it refused. Now that Newt's in my room it might make its way across the corridor."
Percival nodded. He had read about Newt's affinity for animals. He just hadn't expected it to be quite so overwhelming.
"I think I'd better let you get unpacked." Theseus said after a moment. "I'm sure you're tired, transatlantic portkeying always exhausts me. If you need anything during the night, you know where we are."
"Thank you." Percival managed to say the words despite his fear, despite the bile that burned in his throat at the thought of how every kindness would make him more indebted to them. He wondered whether the state of the bedroom was a sign he wouldn't be expected to stay, or whether it was just another trick. It was good of them to give him a bed, and let him sleep in it.
Theseus left, and Percival found himself standing beside the bed. He unpacked what little he had into the drawers, placing the books he had brought him in the bookshelf. He took the aurors' leaving gifts and hid the four of them in his suitcase, before sliding it beneath the bed. He placed his shoes in front of the case, careful to line the toes up with the edge of a plank of wood so he could tell if they had been moved.
There was silence from the other rooms. He shed his robes easily, finding that a much simpler task than putting them on. He hung them up manually on a hanger in the closet, finding that he was already tired. After a lifetime of using magic to achieve the goals he wanted, he was surprised by how exhausting even simple work was.
He lay down on the bed, wearing only his pants. He lay on top of the sheet - it would be easier that way. He stared up at the ceiling and waited.
He suspected they would knock on the door to summon him when they were ready. He doubted they’d use this room – it was only a single bed, but he couldn’t be certain. He wondered if there was anything else he should have done. He glanced around the room, and noticed that the bundimun was now moving towards the ceiling. The room was dark. He strained his ears in the hope he would catch them approaching. It would be easier to hide his fear if he knew they were arriving.
He tried to breathe slowly, to keep his heart rate from racing. This was nothing he hadn't survived before. He heard the faintest of mutterings from the room beside his own, and then there was silence.
He lay awake, waiting for them to summon him.
It was only as dawn broke that he realised they might have expected him to come to them.