(AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10520589/chapters/23222601) Percival was more exhausted than he was going to get on. His aurors and those around him were convinced that he should be taking more time off. Even Picquery suggested that he should wait until he was out of a sling before he got back to work. But Percival refused to listen to any of it.
He had had enough of resting in his time trapped in a cell, waiting for a madman who had stolen his face. He wasn't going to avoid his team, not when they needed him now more than ever. Grindelwald had let the organisation of his office slide, punished and criticised his best aurors and promoted those who he thought he would be able to sway to his own view. The pain he felt every time he moved, and the fact his arm was still in the process of regrowing its muscles and bones, were unimportant given the circumstances. What mattered was his team.
His team, and the people he had met around them. Goldstein was a good auror - driven too much by a sense of justice, with no willingness to stick to the laws, but a good auror. And she had made a friend in a criminal - the surprisingly awkward baby brother of the man he had fought beside in the war.
Newt Scamander had a strange way about him, but it was impossible to ignore the way that creatures responded to him. Which is why he was accompanying them today, as they were working on interrupting a smuggling ring which specialized in creature parts and the living beasts.
Percival would complete the raid, get the prisoners safely secured within the cells, do the initial write up of what had happened, and then go home and get some rest. First though, he had to manage to get into the cellar that had been reinforced by multiple spells. He worked through them firmly, even as the room spun a little, his aurors close by in case anyone escaped, and Newt beside him in case anything did.
The door finally swung forwards, and Percival nearly fell in towards it. The room was filled with cages, and he saw some animal parts - three erumpent horns were stacked against the wall, and there were numerous pelts piled in the centre of the floor.
Newt walked forwards, wand out, and started to triage the creatures, calling out orders to Goldstein and Kettering to ensure that the creatures were all safely transported to the cages, with medical care being provided where it was needed most - healing spells would work on most creatures the same as they did on people.
Percival walked away to check on the aurors who were handling the smugglers, and to see how the other wards were breaking down. It was only when he was satisfied about their actions that he returned to see how the secondary group were getting on.
He paused to see Newt crouched down, frowning at a dark corner, wand drawn. "Something dangerous?" "Not dangerous. Just afraid." "Fear can make something dangerous." Percial pointed out as he approached, only to see a small blue and purple winged snake hiding in a crevice. "I can't get her out." Newt explained. "It's a defence mechanism. Occamy that are frightened will find somewhere safe and curl up there, and they won't leave their shelter. She's sized her body so she fits perfectly,and I ... actually, director, could you keep an eye on her for me? I need to sort out a few of the others. Just watch her, and if she gets smaller or starts to wriggle backwards call me over okay?" "I think I can manage that." Percival agreed, crouching down in front of the snake. He couldn't help feeling he'd been given the task merely to humour him and keep him out of trouble Still, it felt good to sit down for a few minutes. Not that he would ever admit that out loud. If he did Picquery would insist on light duties, and he knew he could do this. Everyone was just overreacting.
He sat down, gazing at the strange creature. He'd dealt with occamy shells before, but whenever he had their inhabitants had been dead or fled. Living occamy were if anything more beautiful than the silver that encased them. He held his good hand out towards her, ignoring the pain that shot down his wounded arm at the movement. "Hey there girl..." He greeted her gently. "You're safe now..." He kept his voice soft, hoping it was reassuring, and made a mental note to ask Newt later how he could tell she was a female.
In a blink, the occamy lunged forwards, scurrying across his arm and then diving into the dark recesses of his sling. She was small, no larger than his hand, and she curled up in the shadows. "Newt?" He called out softly, and Newt raced over, cursing when he saw the crack. "She must have gone deeper-" "She's in my sling." Percival explained.
"Oh." Newt blinked. "Do you mind?" "I guess not..." Percival answered. "Will she be staying long?" "Until she feels safe." Newt answered. "And even then, she'll stay close for a couple of weeks - assuming you are willing to have her."
Percival frowned a little, considering. He had been feeling lonely recently, and he needed to get over what had happened. Looking after some other living thing might help. "Alright. But you have to teach me how to take care of her."
Newt nodded and smiled at him. "It would be a genuine pleasure director. But you need to name her."
"Tiny." He said after a moment. "Let's hope she takes the hint."
A Tiny Problem (1/?)
Percival was more exhausted than he was going to get on. His aurors and those around him were convinced that he should be taking more time off. Even Picquery suggested that he should wait until he was out of a sling before he got back to work. But Percival refused to listen to any of it.
He had had enough of resting in his time trapped in a cell, waiting for a madman who had stolen his face. He wasn't going to avoid his team, not when they needed him now more than ever. Grindelwald had let the organisation of his office slide, punished and criticised his best aurors and promoted those who he thought he would be able to sway to his own view. The pain he felt every time he moved, and the fact his arm was still in the process of regrowing its muscles and bones, were unimportant given the circumstances. What mattered was his team.
His team, and the people he had met around them. Goldstein was a good auror - driven too much by a sense of justice, with no willingness to stick to the laws, but a good auror. And she had made a friend in a criminal - the surprisingly awkward baby brother of the man he had fought beside in the war.
Newt Scamander had a strange way about him, but it was impossible to ignore the way that creatures responded to him. Which is why he was accompanying them today, as they were working on interrupting a smuggling ring which specialized in creature parts and the living beasts.
Percival would complete the raid, get the prisoners safely secured within the cells, do the initial write up of what had happened, and then go home and get some rest. First though, he had to manage to get into the cellar that had been reinforced by multiple spells. He worked through them firmly, even as the room spun a little, his aurors close by in case anyone escaped, and Newt beside him in case anything did.
The door finally swung forwards, and Percival nearly fell in towards it. The room was filled with cages, and he saw some animal parts - three erumpent horns were stacked against the wall, and there were numerous pelts piled in the centre of the floor.
Newt walked forwards, wand out, and started to triage the creatures, calling out orders to Goldstein and Kettering to ensure that the creatures were all safely transported to the cages, with medical care being provided where it was needed most - healing spells would work on most creatures the same as they did on people.
Percival walked away to check on the aurors who were handling the smugglers, and to see how the other wards were breaking down. It was only when he was satisfied about their actions that he returned to see how the secondary group were getting on.
He paused to see Newt crouched down, frowning at a dark corner, wand drawn.
"Something dangerous?"
"Not dangerous. Just afraid."
"Fear can make something dangerous." Percial pointed out as he approached, only to see a small blue and purple winged snake hiding in a crevice.
"I can't get her out." Newt explained. "It's a defence mechanism. Occamy that are frightened will find somewhere safe and curl up there, and they won't leave their shelter. She's sized her body so she fits perfectly,and I ... actually, director, could you keep an eye on her for me? I need to sort out a few of the others. Just watch her, and if she gets smaller or starts to wriggle backwards call me over okay?"
"I think I can manage that." Percival agreed, crouching down in front of the snake. He couldn't help feeling he'd been given the task merely to humour him and keep him out of trouble Still, it felt good to sit down for a few minutes. Not that he would ever admit that out loud. If he did Picquery would insist on light duties, and he knew he could do this. Everyone was just overreacting.
He sat down, gazing at the strange creature. He'd dealt with occamy shells before, but whenever he had their inhabitants had been dead or fled. Living occamy were if anything more beautiful than the silver that encased them. He held his good hand out towards her, ignoring the pain that shot down his wounded arm at the movement.
"Hey there girl..." He greeted her gently. "You're safe now..." He kept his voice soft, hoping it was reassuring, and made a mental note to ask Newt later how he could tell she was a female.
In a blink, the occamy lunged forwards, scurrying across his arm and then diving into the dark recesses of his sling. She was small, no larger than his hand, and she curled up in the shadows.
"Newt?" He called out softly, and Newt raced over, cursing when he saw the crack.
"She must have gone deeper-"
"She's in my sling." Percival explained.
"Oh." Newt blinked. "Do you mind?"
"I guess not..." Percival answered. "Will she be staying long?"
"Until she feels safe." Newt answered. "And even then, she'll stay close for a couple of weeks - assuming you are willing to have her."
Percival frowned a little, considering. He had been feeling lonely recently, and he needed to get over what had happened. Looking after some other living thing might help.
"Alright. But you have to teach me how to take care of her."
Newt nodded and smiled at him.
"It would be a genuine pleasure director. But you need to name her."
"Tiny." He said after a moment. "Let's hope she takes the hint."