Graves had thought that serving Grindelwald, pretending to share his goals while working against him, had been difficult. He had been unprepared for the challenges he faced as he tried to rebuild the world that the dark wizard had reshaped.

Seraphina was holding up surprisingly well, giving press statements, arranging for meetings with the No-Maj politicians that still survived. The aurors were managing to keep control in the magical community, but the sudden collapse of Grindelwald's America had left panic in its wake.

War was in the air, and Percival tried to keep the No-Maj press from stirring up another conflict as MACUSA tried to rebuild. For the moment, MACUSA was weak, and that made them vulnerable.

He gazed down at the paperwork - a transcript of his last meeting with the president, and the papers he needed to fill in in order to enable what she wished for. They wanted to prove that life carried on. That Grindelwald hadn't torn down everything.

But he had.

Grindelwald's body had been photographed before being destroyed. The photographs had been shared with the No-Maj press, proof their oppressor had been vanquished. Percival found himself sympathising with the old No-Maj custom of hanging the bodies of traitors from the city gates. Rumours swirled that somehow the monster that had tried to take total control had survived. That he would be coming back.

Percival couldn't let himself listen to rumour, and wasn't involved in MACUSA's internal investigation, seeking out any remaining Grindelwald supporters. He knew that he had no right to do so, that he would be one of their suspects. He'd had enough of that infighting, and instead his main concern was trying to rebuild the country that had nearly been destroyed.

He rubbed a hand across his forehead, and almost jumped at a knock on the door. He looked up, opening his door with a wave of his hand to find Queenie Goldstein standing there, a cup of coffee in her hands.
"Sir?"
"Yes Miss Goldstein?"

"Are you available for a few minutes?" She asked, and then raised her hand before he could make an excuse. "It's about Mister Barebone."
"I can spare a few minutes." Percival conceded, reaching out for the coffee. Goldstein handed it over, leading him along to a quiet corner of the wand permit office, where Credence was sitting.

The boy still looked unhealthily thin and pale, his eyes darting around the room before he relaxed a little to see Percival. Queenie seemed to have a knack with helping the boy relax, and therefore she had been caring for him, even teaching him the beginnings of magic. Queenie handed the boy a cup, and sipped one herself.
"Cocoa." She explained. "Now, you two need to have a little talk. Because both of you, you've been worrying yourself silly about things that ain't your fault."

Percival opened his mouth to argue, then saw Credence was nodding slightly, his hand resting on the thick leather around his throat.
"Credence, have they had any luck finding a way to get it off?"
"It would probably hurt quite a bit to have it removed." Credence said softly. "More of a concern is the fact that there are apparently quite a lot of scars there. Unhealable ones. So even if we get it off, it'll still be clear I'm..." Credence's voice drifted away into silence.

"What did you want to talk about?" Percival asked. Credence frowned a little, biting his lip before he answered. In the background, Queenie was fussing over one of the small snakes from Newt's case.
"Me." Credence started, then shook his head. "Us." He looked up, managing to meet Percival's eyes briefly. "You said we'd be together. I know you're busy but... if you were just using me, say now. I won't attack. I just... I need to know." As he spoke his hands picked at a loose thread in his pants. "I feel like you're ashamed of me."

Percival almost laughed at that, shaking his head violently from side to side. He reached out, cupping Credence's smaller hands in his own, and gazing into his eyes.
"Credence, I am not ashamed of you. I think you are a remarkable young man, and I believe that the world needs more like you. You fought for what was right in a situation that would have killed a lesser man, and I am proud of you."

"Then why do you act like you're ashamed?"
"Because I am ashamed of myself." Percival admitted. "I can't forget what I did to you, what I did for Grindelwald. I hurt you, I killed for him. And I was ready to let you die to stop him. Photographs of me hurting you have been seen by most of America, and you expect...you expect me not to be ashamed of what I am? Of what I did to you?"

Credence stood up, walking around the desk, and then dropped to his knees before Percival, gazing up at him. He reached for Percival's hands, holding them gently.
"You were brave. You risked yourself to save everyone, including me."

"I hurt you." Percival murmured. "I always said that there were lines that shouldn't be crossed, and I tore through them."
Credence leaned up, stretching in order to press a kiss to Percival's lips. It was a chaste, tender thing, but it was accompanied by a smile so bright that Percival felt as though he had stepped into a patch of sunlight.

"You saved me." Credence said softly. "And you were brave enough to slander your own name, your own soul, to save me and so many others. That's real bravery..." His hand squeezed Percival's own. "I know everyone has seen the photographs, but if I see them, all I see is a hero. A man who was about to save the President of MACUSA and the lives of everyone within its shores..." He swallowed. "Sorry, been practicing this most of the morning. I just... it won't go away. But I know that in time, it'll get easier."

Driven on by his speech, Percival leaned in and kissed Credence chastely. For a few moments they kissed closed mouthed, before Credence's tongue brushed at the edge of Percival's lip.. Percival opened his mouth, hoping that he was doing the right thing.

Queenie giggled and practically skipped from the room, before Credence stood and pulled Percival into his arms. This time, it was Percival that initiated the kiss.