fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme | Prompt Post #2

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Prompt Post #2

ROUND 2

Seeing as we've reached 4,000 comments in Round 1, it's time to make a new one. Same (lack of) rules apply. Gentle reminder to everyone to refrain from posting extremely long prompts, though. While no word limit will be imposed, take note that it is very unlikely for someone to fulfill your prompt if your prompt alone is already several paragraphs long and containing a number of specifications.

ANNOUNCEMENTS:
-(01/14/2016) We now have a TRADING POST where you can exchange fills with people.
-The prompt freeze is over! You may resume posting prompts. The next freeze is scheduled on February 8, 12:00 AM (PST) or if this round reaches 4,000 comments; whichever comes first.
-Due to popular demand, we now have our first couple of rules!
RULE #1: No prompt must exceed 250 words. Any prompt that exceeds that WILL be screened.
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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

As a young man Graves was in abusive marriage for political reasons and due to the conditions of the marriage he had to take the abuse his husband loved to dole out without retaliating. Husband got off on having control over Graves who could overpower him in theory but due to the terms of the marriage had to endured the abuse, then the husband died or marriage was dissolved. Determined to never be a victim again Graves set out to become the most BAMF Auror that ever was and never be forced to helplessly endure abuse again.

Years later he's captured and impersonated by Grindelwald and ironically suffers less in his hands than his first husband's. After he's rescued, rather than being reinstated, Graves is offered in political marriage to Newt or Theseus (or both) to make up for the almost execution of Newt.

Graves has lost everything he has worked for and is once again stripped of his freedom and will be at the complete mercy of his new husband. Determined to do his duty Graves puts on a stoic face and enters into the marriage determined to endure whatever humiliations and casual abuse his hew husband will inflict on him.

Cue misunderstandings an tonnes of h/c.

I would love this!

I love it. Just imagine horrified Newt when Percival asks why he isn't being punished for not doing something.

How about Graves as the mutual husband of Newt and Theseus? (Poor Graves. He thinks he's going to be at the mercy of two abusive husbands, and it will be so much worse because one of them used to be his friend.)

GREAT prompt. I hope it gets filled!

OP would totally down with that or any other adjustments any potential A!A wants to make so long as they fill the general gist of the prompt. :D

"It's the best I can do Percival." Seraphina leans forwards on her desk, her eyes damp. Percival can tell she's struggling to hold back her tears. They had been friends since Ilvermorny. She was the only one who knew what happened in the three years between him graduating and joining MACUSA. She knew that she was condemning him to his greatest fear.

She reached across the table, taking his hand in hers and squeezing softly.
"If there was another way, I would take it. But..." Her voice faded for a moment and she shook her head. "Azkaban... you'd be driven mad Percival. You wouldn't stand it. I'd never see you again." Her hand squeezed his once more. "And I know you would try to escape. We all know what the punishment for that is Percival. The British might say they're being merciful, taking your soul rather than executing you, but I can't let my oldest friend face a Dementor's Kiss."

Percival couldn't meet her eyes.
"What about execution?" He asked the table. Death would be quick. It would be a punishment for what had happened, but it would be over and he wouldn't have to live the nightmare that was awaiting him.
"It would spark an international incident. I'm sorry Percival. With Grindelwald still at large...I can't let that happen."

"Understood." Percival swallowed, squaring his shoulders and looking up at her. One of the tears had slipped down her face, and she was blinking back more.
"It won't be like Jauncey." She murmured, and he fought down the flinch that always threatened on hearing that man's name. He tried to remind himself of the truth. Jauncey didn't control him any more. Jauncey was dead. Percival was Director of Magical Security at MACUSA, the best Auror in the Americas, and no one would control him again.

For so long, that mantra had got him through the worst that the world could throw at him. But Grindelwald had stolen his face, and usurped his position. While he had been caged in that cell, suffering from hunger, thirst, and whatever curses Grindelwald threw at him, he reminded himself of his role. That the pain would pass and he would escape. That he would go back to his job and he would be able to rebuild.

While hiding who he was, Grindelwald had sentenced the brother of the British Head Auror to death, and that wasn't something the British would take lightly.
"You have to sign the contract." Seraphina said softly, pushing the parchment across the desk with a quill. For a moment Percival was amused by the British habit of sticking to the old ways, before he realised that there was no ink well for the quill. He examined it curiously, then worked out what it was.

He gritted his teeth as he placed his left hand on the parchment, holding it steady. He placed the nib of the quill on the paper, and carefully signed his name, making sure that his hand didn't tremble as red flowed from the tip and his signature was cut into the flesh of his hand.

Seraphina nodded, and gestured to the other place he was expected to sign.
"Percival Scamander" He wrote out, cursing the family for having such a long surname. The injuries were healing, leaving a red mark on his skin. He put the quill down.

"A delegation from Britain will be arriving in the morning." Seraphina informed him. "I believe that Theseus Scamander will be among them." Percival nodded, thinking back to the war, the young man who had made him laugh. Things were different now.

"I've taken the evening off." Seraphina said after a moment, interrupting his thoughts. "I thought we could go and pack a bag, and share a bottle of firewhiskey."
Percival smiled at her, trying to hide his fear. It would have been easy to say no, to spend the night hiding in his apartment and dreading the morning. But this was a kindness. Seraphina had found a way to save him from Azkaban.
"Sounds good." He stood up from his chair, and she followed as the marriage contract scuttled away.

"I know you might not be able to write." Seraphina said to him as they walked the short distance to his apartment. "But I've got you some pens and paper." She held up a shrunken version. "They'll grow if you hold them between your hands."
"Thank you." Percival placed them in the case, followed by some clothing. He chose a couple of books, adding them to the pile, before stepping back and looking at it. It wasn't much.

In the morning he would leave for England, to be signed over to men who had every reason to hate him, and he didn't know if he would ever step foot on American soil again. Seraphina wrapped an arm around his waist and held out a tumbler of firewhiskey, which he took from her, gulping it down and feeling the heat of the drink burn his throat.
(AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10378503/chapters/22921524)

OP here: OMG! OMG! *dies* This is amazing! Squeeee! Sooooo good, can't wait to read the next part A!Anon. Love it!

Author!Anon: So glad you saw this! I'm hoping to do more in the next couple of days

Great start, author, looking forward to more.

The warmth of the sun eventually drove Percival to open his eyes, and he looked up to see Seraphina asleep on the sofa beside him, her head resting on his shoulder, still in yesterday’s outfit. He waved his hand, summoning a bottle of Hartley’s Hangover Cure from his cupboard, and took a sip. Head clearing, he shook Seraphina’s shoulder.
“Hey.” He said softly, holding out the purple potion. She reached for it and took a gulp, before using her wand to change her clothing. He walked into the bedroom, letting her change in peace.

His room looked emptier than usual, and the reason for it hit him suddenly. He remembered now, what was happening today. He pulled on his smartest suit, eyes lingering on the monogram of his handkerchief. He wasn’t a Graves any more. He kept the handkerchief though, so he had a reminder as proof of who he had been.

Seraphina was waiting in the doorway, and he picked up his bag and walked to her. She squeezed his hand and then smiled sadly.
“Good luck.”
“You too.” He murmured, watching as she straightened, her professional expression falling into place like a mask. It wasn’t far to MACUSA, but they apparated in together. They were among the very few who had the privilege to do so – though Percival knew he would be losing that privilege today.

In the entrance hall to MACUSA he could see the British delegation – Theseus Scamander was there, along with three other aurors and the British Minister of Magic. The British were all wearing robes. Seraphina gave his hand one last squeeze, and then walked over to greet them, leaving Percival alone. He headed up to the Major Investigations Department, wanting to ensure that Henery was ready to take over as Director.

As he walked, he could feel the eyes of everyone upon him. He could hear them murmuring among themselves. Only a few weeks ago he had been a prisoner of that madman, and wizarding society had nearly been exposed. Now people looked at him with pity or with anger, not respect.

He walked into Major Investigations, and was startled to find the aurors that he worked with daily standing smartly in a line, as though waiting for inspection. His lips twitched slightly in a smile, and he walked along, greeting each of them, thanking them for their work.

It was Tina who broke rank first, running forwards to wrap her arms around him and hold him tightly. He rested his hands on her back.
“It wasn’t your fault.” She said, and Percival nodded, patting her on the shoulder. She leaned into the touch, eyes lit with fire. He knew she felt this was unjust, and there was no way he could soothe her thoughts on the matter. Tina was always just, and there was no justice here.
“I know. But I have to make it right. It’s okay Tina.” He paused. “I expect all of you to keep up the good work in my absence.”

There was laughter at that, and the rest of them crowded around, embracing him and shaking his hands.
Kathern grinned brightly at him, and pressed a small vial full of vivid blue potion into his hand.
“I thought we confiscated that.” Percival asked, staring at her.
“We did.” Kathern agreed, pointing towards the vial. “Raid on Sandy Hook Docks. This is one of the weaker aphrodisiacs-“
“I don’t want that.” Percival insisted. “Henery? Make sure she puts that back in the store room.”
“Yes sir.” Henery answered, stepping forwards and holding out a lighter, engraved with the MACUSA logo. “From all of us sir.”

Percival turned it over in his hands and smiled a little, nodding and slipping it into his pocket.
“Thank you.”
He felt Starling move a little too close, something slipping into his pocket, but he didn’t look. Tina held up two cufflinks, each emblazoned with the MACUSA eagle.
“Good luck charms sir. Kathern and Starling put protective charms on them.”
“Thank you.” Percival swallowed. He knew he wasn’t meant to take magical objects with him, but he couldn’t refuse this gift. He replaced the plain cufflinks he was wearing, slipping them into his pants’ pocket, and placed the new ones on.

“It’s time sir.” Henery said softly, reaching out and shaking Percival’s hand. “It’s been an honour to work with you. I’ll do what I can to take care of the department.”
“I’ll read about you in the papers, I’m sure.” Percival promised. “It’s been an honour.”

He walked to the Pentagram Office, his aurors behind him. He stepped inside the large room, relieved that the New York Ghost had agreed a deal with the Daily Prophet to get photographs from the British ceremony. It meant there were no cameras as he stepped forwards to the centre of the room, towards the British delegation.

He recognised the British aurors. Theseus of course, then Bulstrode, Abbott, Nott – the Purebloods were out in force. It made sense he supposed, a chance for the British to show their superiority.

He felt nauseous as he made his way towards the chair where Seraphina was sitting, looking composed and glamorous. He bowed smartly to her, then turned to the British Minister. His hand shook a little as he drew his ebony wand and handed it over. His fingers clenched, and he felt suddenly exposed.

Scamander stepped forwards, using his wand to search for any magical object that Percival had on him. It was the same spell used to search those bound for Azkaban, and Percival wondered if he had left it too late to engineer a change of destination. He felt the slight heat of revealed magic at his wrists and in his pocket – from the cufflinks, the lighter, and from whatever Starling had slipped him. But after a moment Scamander stepped back.
“He’s clean.”

Seraphina was speaking, but the blood was pounding too loudly in his ears for him to focus on her words, aware only of his lack of wand. He could do wandless magic, so wasn’t as crippled as most wizards would be in this situation, but he still felt sick, remembering Grindelwald taking his wand and his face, remembering Jauncey. He concentrated on staying on his feet.

“It is time Mister Graves.” One of the British Aurors – Nott, he suspected, from the way the man looked at him in disgust if nothing else – prompted. A six-sided portkey was brought out, and the four British aurors and their Minister put their hands on it. Percival gripped the final side, eyes scanning the room, taking one last look at the office as the air around him swirled and he was swept from America.
(Image of the lighter: http://www.toledo-bend.com/VCL/articles/images/LighterHistory_22.JPG )

*screams with joy* ignore me, I'm just over here, dying of joy. Love it!

The Ministry of Magic was a building nothing like MACUSA. Situated beneath Whitehall, the cavernous spaces were immense in a way that the American Building was not. Percival glanced around where they had been deposited by the portkey, and found himself stood in the atrium, glancing down at the dark wood floor and then up at the peacock blue ceiling. Floo fireplaces lined the walls and people rushed in and out of them, each focused on their own jobs. The minister led the group to one of the elevators, which rose up to the very top floor. Here the floor was a thick purple carpet, and the walls lined with wood. It was quiet.

“Scamander, I believe your brother is waiting for you. Can you fetch Graves his robes?” The minister said, and Scamander nodded, walking away down the corridor and leaving Percival stood with the three other aurors and the minister.
“Graves.” The Minister addressed him. “Our American Officer from the International Magical Office of Law will be ready to sign the registers with you. The ceremony takes place in an hour.” He turned away with the air of someone who had somewhere far more important to be.

The auror that Percival thought was Nott turned towards him.
“Your mother was muggle born was she not?”
“What of it?” Percival spat. He might have been wandless, but he was not going to stand here and listen to his parents being insulted.
“My brother wanted to know. Twenty eight then. Shame. The Scamanders had a good history.”

“Did I manage to disqualify us from your brother’s little project?” Theseus asked, walking back with a bundle of fabric. He pressed it to Percival’s arms. “Good.” He smirked at Nott and then grinned at Percival. “See you in a bit.” With that he walked off, and Bulstrode led Percival to an empty room.
“You can change in there.”

With that he swept out, leaving Percival alone. A quick glance out into the corridor confirmed that both Bulstrode and Nott were guarding the door. Percival wished he could apparate. He glanced at the cloth he had been handed, and realised one major problem – he had no idea of how you were meant to wear robes.

He couldn’t help wondering whether this was somehow Theseus’s revenge for Percival laughing at the fact he had worn robes for school. He untangled the mess of fabric – it was deep crimson, with teal edging and bronze embroidery swirling up the sides. It was beautiful, just entirely impractical for anything.

Trying to dress could wait for a minute – first of all, he needed to find out what it was that Starling had slipped him. He hoped Starling hadn’t taken Kathern’s lead and given him some aphrodisiac – today was bad enough without being drugged. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small matchbox made of gold, with a silver drawer inside of it. He recognised it instantly – Starling had confiscated it from some smugglers the year before. For a moment he thought he would have to tell his aurors off for raiding his office, before remembering that they were no longer his aurors, and that it was Henery’s office now.

He turned the matchbox over in his hands and then opened it. It was empty aside from a small piece of paper.
“Let us know if you need help.” It said, in Henery’s writing. He swallowed and put the matchbox down on the table, knowing that his aurors had its partner. Anything he placed inside would travel to them, and vice versa. He wasn’t abandoned. He blinked back tears of relief that threatened, hoping he could somehow hide this from both of his husbands.

He turned his attention to the robes, stretching the fabric out. He shrugged off his suit jacket, leaving the rest of his clothing where he was, then ran his fingers over the embroidered fabric. He worked out where the sleeves were, and put his arms into them. The fabric fell over his shoulders to the floor. He glanced at the robes, straightening the front of them and making sure it looked good. If he had had a pen he would send a note back, but he couldn’t see one anywhere. He searched through the desk drawer and found a quill and a bottle of ink. He sat in the chair, turning the paper over and dipping the nib into the ink. It splodged when he first put the feather down, splashing onto the inside of his robe.

He rubbed at the stain but made it worse. As it was in the lining, he knew he would just have to hope no one saw. He picked the quill up and he tried again after a moment, managing to scratch out “Thank you” onto the scrap of paper. He blew on it until the ink had dried, and then put it back into the matchbox, knowing his aurors would find it safely. He slipped the matchbox back into his pocket.

There was nothing else to do but sit and wait to be called. His mind wandered back to being eighteen, waiting to marry Jauncey. He hadn’t been sure about the older man, had been a little frightened, but his father had made it clear to him that it would be necessary to secure their family’s future and to prevent MACUSA ending up in a state of civil war.

He had sat on the desk, swinging his legs a little, checking that his tie was straight and waiting to be called into the hall. His family and Jauncey’s were there, along with a few others. This was a marriage to help MACUSA, and the emotions and fears that twisted in Percival’s chest didn’t matter. What happened next wouldn’t matter in the eyes of MACUSA as long as it settled the arguments that had been bubbling beneath the surface. A Graves had always been in the service of MACUSA. For Percival, this was how he would serve, and how he felt didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter now either. He was marrying to keep the peace between Britain and America. Theseus had never been cruel back in the war. There was a chance that no cruelty had set in. But Grindelwald had tried to kill Theseus’s brother wearing Percival’s face, and that wasn’t something that could easily be forgiven.

A knock to the door startled him, and he stumbled to his feet.

Nott nodded at him, and gestured for him to follow him along the corridor. The door opened to a large room, which reminded him a little of the Pentagram Office – but here there was mahogany on the walls and a sapphire carpet on the floor. He looked up to the far end of the room.

Both Scamander brothers stood there. The older was dressed in crimson robes that were edged with gold, and his brother was dressed in a long black coat with yellow embroidered creatures dancing over the cloth. Newt Scamander had his head down, staring at the floor, as Theseus Scamander stared straight across the room towards Percival.

Percival wanted to run.

He took a step forwards.

Re: Fill: Who Pays The Piper (3/?)

(Anonymous) - 2017-03-25 00:41 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Fill: Who Pays The Piper (3/?)

(Anonymous) - 2017-03-27 00:45 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Fill: Who Pays The Piper (3/?)

(Anonymous) - 2017-03-26 00:24 (UTC) - Expand

Every step forwards brings Percival closer to his fate. The two British men standing there. He hears the clicking of a camera's shutters, knows that tomorrow morning images from this ceremony will be splashed across the front page of every wizarding newspaper. No longer will he merely be the American wizard who fell to Grindelwald. Now he will be the American wizard handed over like a bargaining chip, the wizard expelled from the only land he had ever known as punishment. The wizard who was trading Azkaban for something worse.

He feels sick. The fear is worse than it was for Jauncey. Back then he had no comprehension of what might lie ahead. He wasn't a virgin, had fumbled his way through Ilvermorny with a number of handsome men and beautiful women who he studied alongside. But he had never had a serious relationship. He hadn't known back then that Jauncey had thought he was a virgin. Hadn't known what the man would do when he found out the truth.

He shudders, the room seeming to spin. He is in the Ministry of Magic. Jauncey is dead. The men he is walking towards are Theseus and Newt Scamander. He focuses on that.

Newt Scamander seems more interested in the floor and the patterns on his own robes than in Percival. He doesn't lift his head, fingers on his left hand brushing over the embroidery. Theseus is looking at Percival, a faint frown creasing his forehead. Percival tries not to let the fear twisting in his gut show. He must have done something wrong, angered him somehow. He hadn't even married the men yet and he was already transgressing.

He shifts his weight slightly, managing to move the silver matchbox so he can feel it pressing against his skin. It is his one link to his old life, his one way of conveying messages to the aurors he regards as his own family. He is standing before the two of them now, his heart thudding in his chest.

The American Officer is standing close by, waiting to sign the register when the time comes. To seal Percival's fate. Percival hasn't had a chance to look at the terms of the marriage yet. He isn't sure he wants to see his future written out on the page when he already knows enough. Better not to know, to find out by learning. If he had been given a contract of what Jauncey wanted, he doubted he would have survived. This was better.

It is the Minister of Magic himself who will marry them, and he is dressed in the finest robes of all. Percival stands, waiting, hearing the camera take another photograph of him. He holds his head high, not wanting the world to see him looking afraid. That wouldn't do. He might be losing the Graves name, but he could still damage his family's reputation further by showing fear. A long cushion appears on the step in front of the Minister, and it is Theseus who kneels first, on the left hand side. Newt mirrors his brother on the right. Percival kneels in the middle, focusing on looking calm, his jaw set firmly. He can't allow the terror that swirls to overwhelm him. If he does, he knows he might pass out in front of the assembled crowd, and that would be unthinkable.

***

The Minister stepped forwards, beginning to recite words. The English ceremony was more formal than the American, which startled Percival a little. The Minister slipped into Latin before returning to English, as he set out expectations and hopes for their future. Percival couldn't bring himself to listen to it.

When the time came, he stood, Newt and Theseus on either side of him. It was far too late to run. Theseus winked at him and smiled again, taking the first vow.
"I, Theseus Scamander, take you, Percival Graves, to be my husband. I will love and cherish you, and ensure that no bombs knock you flying. I will stand by your side in the trenches and in the street, and I promise to not always steal your breakfast. I will protect you with my magic as you have renounced your own, and I swear I will not tease you more than you deserve."

There were a few laughs at that comment, but Percival wasn't listening fully, too busy trying not to remember Jauncey's snarl as he had told him exactly what it was he deserved. With Jauncey he had officially kept his wand. The world would know he had lost it this time. He realised a few seconds later that he had missed the start of Newt's vow.
"...my husband. I will love and cherish you, staying by your side. I will protect you with my magic as you have renounced your own, and I will..." Newt's voice faltered for a moment before he continued. "I will do all I can to be a good husband and treat you as you deserve."

A little relieved that Newt had stuck to the traditional vows for a marriage of this kind, Percival spoke his own when the time came.
"I, Percival Graves, take you, Theseus Scamander, and you, Newt Scamander, to be my husbands. I will do all I can to ensure your happiness, and I will love, honour and obey you with my body mind and soul. I will care for you, and treat you as you deserve." He fell silent, and the Minister spoke a little longer. Percival's mind drifted, and he was called back to reality by Newt's lips brushing his cheek, and then Theseus leaning in.

Theseus kissed passionately, the way he had done in the war, when Percival had been a junior auror. Percival yielded as cameras photographed the two of them. Theseus pulled away, the same brilliant grin on his face. The one Percival remembered. Since leaving Ilvermorny, he had only kissed two people, and the other one was dead.

They turned to face the cameras and assembled crowd, before Theseus guided him over to the marriage certificates. The quill there was a vivid blue, and Percival cursed the British rejection of pens. He signed his new name as neatly as he could.
"Want to go home Perce?" Theseus asked, his eyes sparkling.

Percival nodded. It would be best to get it over with.

Re: Fill: Who Pays The Piper (4/?)

(Anonymous) - 2017-03-27 02:45 (UTC) - Expand

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.

It was too late now to correct his mistake. Newt and Theseus were probably asleep, and he couldn't risk waking them. He turned so his back was towards the door, trying to distract himself by deciphering the notes that had been scrawled on the paper and waiting for a more reasonable hour.

By the time the clock in the hall chimed half past six, Percival had learned rather more about the reproduction cycles of graphorns than he ever wanted to know, and there had still been no footsteps in the corridor outside. A glance up at the bundimun showed that it had moved into the far corner, and seemed to be asleep, its eyes closed. Percival sat up and reached for his wand, only for reality to crash down upon him.

He stood up, walking to the wardrobe and pulling out a shirt. He might have been able to summon it, but he was trying to minimise his use of magic in case it wasn't allowed. The wards that were wrapped around this house, around this room, could easily be set up to see if he used wandless magic. Until he had permission, he couldn't risk it. Not after last night's failure.

He paused by his shoes, checking that they were still in place. No one had touched his case in the night, and his most treasured possessions were safe. Barefoot, he made his way out into the kitchen.

Theoretically, cooking breakfast should not have posed too much of a challenge. He had been cooking for himself ever since Jauncey's death, and had cooked meals for the older man when they had been married. In practice though, it was surprisingly difficult, to force his body through the motions of cooking and try to quieten the thoughts that swirled through his head. He didn't know what the Scamander brothers ate, but looked through their cupboards and did the best with what he could find.

He was just finishing plating the last of the pancakes when Theseus emerged from the bedroom. Percival smiled a little to see how Theseus's hair stuck up in all directions, his bare torso spattered with freckles and scars. It reminded him of the war, of hidden kisses and secret laughter.
"You made breakfast?" Theseus asked, and Percival focused on where he was. He nodded smartly. The easy companionship and meaningless affection of the war were gone now.
"Pancakes with maple syrup and banana." He explained. "Sorry, I wasn't sure which food I could use."
"That sounds great." Theseus answered. "Newt's just checking all his creatures, he'll be along shortly."

Percival nodded, his disobedience the previous night hanging between them as he poured them tea, leaving a glass of water for himself. He wasn't sure if they expected him to eat with them and didn't want to make the wrong choice. He had already failed in so many ways. His gut twisted as he pictured Jauncey leaning in, one hand reaching out to tuck a strand of hair back behind Percival's ear. He could hear the voice echoing in his head. Tell me what you've done wrong today. Tell me how I should punish you. He felt heat burn his hand, pictured it being held into the fire.
"Perce!" A British voice snapped at him, and Percival was surprised to see that he was sat at a table, that there was a broken cup in front of him. Percival stared at it in confusion.

"Repairo." Theseus murmured, tapping the cup with his wand and then reaching out for Percival's hand. It was all he could do not to pull his hand away as Theseus examined it, turning it over. "It doesn't look too bad. You've got to be careful. What happened?"
"I... It slipped." Percival said softly, staring down at the red skin on his hand. "I think the timezones are...disorientating me."

"Newt will have some ointment to put on that." Theseus said after a moment. "Stay there-" With that Theseus left and Percival was again alone with his thoughts. He had to focus. He had lost where he was for a moment, and that was dangerous. It could anger Theseus and leave Percival trapped in his own past. He tried to calm himself, mentally listing off all the aurors he had worked with. Kathern. Tina. Henery. Starling. He wouldn't let himself forget.

Theseus returned, his brother trailing behind. Newt was dressed in a grey and yellow set of pyjamas, his hair even scruffier than his brother's. He walked over cautiously, a bottle held in his hand. He sat down opposite Percival, and Percival held his hand out obediently.

When the green mixture touched his hand, the pain eased a little, and Newt's forehead creased a little with concentration as he tried to rub it into the skin, the scald fading. As Newt worked, Percival saw a small green stick clamber up from Newt's pocket to his shoulder.
"That...must be Pickett." He said after a moment, in a desperate attempt to end the silence.
"It is." Newt agreed. "Pickett, this is Percival... Percival, this is Pickett, I'm afraid he's rather shy." The bowtruckle responded by sticking out its tongue and slipping back into Newt's pocket.

"It's... good to see him." Percival said after a moment. Newt nodded, and released his hand.
"There won't be any marks."
"Just not used to carrying cups I guess." Percival said softly. Theseus waved his wand to float the food and drink to the table, and they began to eat, Newt talking to his brother about the fwooper's latest brood.

Percival tried not to think about the fact that the pancakes had gone cold. He wanted to ask what would happen today, how he was expected to behave, what they wanted him to do. Even Jauncey had given him a list of demands. Demands that Percival had failed to meet. This time, he wasn't at all sure what they wanted. He would have no choice but to fail.

"Perce would you like to go shopping later?" Theseus asked as he sent the plates to the sink to wash themselves up. "I know you don't have much with you."
Despite his concern about ending up greater in their debt, he nodded.

"We'll get you some clothes." Theseus smiled. "Uh, what else do you need? Books? Writing supplies? I know you've always been fond of letters, and you've got a lot of people to write to now. Anything else?"

Percival shook his head, not mentioning the papers that Seraphina had given him. Those were secrets, things he wanted to hold on to in case Theseus changed his mind. Having more possessions meant that there were more privileges to lose. More ways for them to hurt him. But it might mean they didn't take his case, didn't find what he had hidden away.
"That sounds more than generous."
"What are friends for?" Theseus shrugged. "You'd do the same for me Perce. Seriously, if it was up to me you'd have been allowed to bring a lot more with you than you were."

Percival thought of the heat of magic against his skin, revealing the objects he had hidden. He tensed despite himself, waiting for Theseus to lash out, or worse to demand those few things he had brought which he should never have been allowed to bring in the first place. Theseus just smiled that brilliant smile, the one he remembered from the war.
"Go and get your shoes and coat, it's cold out there." Theseus prompted it gently, but Percival had heard enough over his lifetime to recognise an order when he was given one.

He headed back to his room, trying not to listen to Theseus and Newt talking behind him. He crouched to check on those precious objects. The cufflinks were nestled in the lining, the lighter beside it. The matchbox was in the main body of the case, but after a moment he decided he wanted to move it. He opened it and found a small note. He unfolded it.
"How did you ever cope with this mad house?" Henery had written.

Percival picked a quill up from the desk, and wrote out a reply.
"Top Tips for auror wrangling:
1. Deadlines - lie about them so that work that's a day late is in on time.
2. Listen, and find yourself a good deputy.
3. Provide baked goods." He folded it up and posted it into the box and closed it. The note would return to Henery. Then he put his shoes on, lining the box up with the floorboards, placing a sock against the suitcase. He would know if anyone had been there. The bundimun eyed him from the wall as he carefully put the matchbox on a top bookshelf, and hid the papers between a couple of books.

Percival wasn't aware of any case where a bundimun could be used as a spy, but it still made him self-conscious. He realised then that he had taken a little too long. He put his shoes on and raced downstairs, already waiting to be punished. Theseus held his hand out for him.
"I'll apparate us both there."

Percival slipped in beside Theseus and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were in the middle of a busy market, unlike anything Percival knew from America. The streets thronged with people wearing a variety of different coloured robes, and stalls out on the street sold powdered unicorn horn, phoenix feather and fwooper egg. A shop sold robes, and he eyed the window displays curiously.

"I'm guessing you're more comfortable in suits?" Theseus asked. Percival nodded silently. "That's fine then. We've got the set of robes I had made in Ilvermorny colours, those will do for any kind of emergency, but if you're more comfortable in suits then suits we can do." He smiled brightly, and headed to one of the nearest shops.

It took a while to find everything that Theseus wanted to buy. Theseus had charmed the bags so they were near weightless, and Percival found British currency more complex than the Dragot. However, he couldn't avoid noticing how much Theseus was paying. Every purchase meant that there was more he would have to pay back. He had no way of knowing what they would want him to do to repay them. He was bought three suits, seven shirts, some writing paper and some pens rather than quills.
"Anything else you need?"
Percival shook his head. He didn't want to ask any more of him. This was already too much.

Theseus paused.
"Any food you want?"
"What we've got is fine. I'm happy to cook..." Percival said quickly. "And I can help keep the house tidy." He knew that there wasn't enough that he could do to pay back for all of this, but he had to try something.
"You don't need to worry." Theseus said with a smile. "I swear my cooking has improved since my army days."
"It's no problem..." Percival murmured, his voice shaking a little. If he couldn't cook, there would be very little he could do to repay them. He shuddered. His mind drifted a little, and he could feel strong hands in his hair, pushing him down. He could smell smoke, hear laughter-

A hand on his arm made him jump, and he looked up to see Theseus standing in front of him.
"You with me Perce?"
"Yes."
"War?" Theseus asked, in a tone that made Percival think that he knew a little of what it was like to lose where you were as memories overwhelmed you.
"Something like that." Percival agreed.
"Let's get home. It's been a long day. You take the bags and unpack, and I'll call you for dinner."

Percival nodded, and Theseus apparated him away. They landed in the front room of the house, where Newt was sat surrounded by notes, a handful of winged snakes on the floor around him, and his bowtruckle in his hair.

Newt jumped slightly to see them, making the snake-things hiss.
"Hey."
"Hey-" Theseus walked over to his brother. "How are the notes going?"
"Getting there. I think someone ate some of them." Newt complained.

Seeing he wasn't needed, Percival headed back to his room. He opened the doorway and froze when he saw that the sock he had left carefully placed on the suitcase had been moved. He walked towards it, pulling the suitcase from the bed, and nearly throwing up at what he found.

The case was empty.

Re: Fill: Who Pays The Piper (7/?)

(Anonymous) - 2017-04-10 00:39 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Fill: Who Pays The Piper (7/?)

(Anonymous) - 2017-04-12 21:07 (UTC) - Expand

The room seemed to spin, but he made himself get to his feet, to check on the top bookshelf. His matchbox was still there. His most precious possession was safe for now. If he lost that, he didn’t know what he would do. It was still there. But the lighter that he had been given by his aurors, the cufflinks which had been layered with protective charms – those were gone.

He sat down on the bed, trying to stave off the terror that was racing in his head. He didn’t know what choice to make. If he should go and beg for forgiveness, admit his sins, or if he should instead carry on without mentioning it. Let the Scamander brothers dictate the situation, and let them decide how and when he could earn his possessions back. Trying to act now would be presumptuous. Trying to pre-empt them could earn more punishment. But he didn’t know what he had done wrong.

He felt angry. It wasn’t fair. That was the overwhelming thought that was hitting him right now. How unfair this situation was, that he was being punished and didn’t know what he had done wrong. Didn’t know how to fix it. He would do anything that they asked for if it meant that he could have kept those things. He allowed himself to close his eyes for a moment, to mourn. It was weak, to break like this, but he couldn’t fight it. Not after everything that had already happened. He was far from home, in a country he didn’t know, faced with rules he didn’t understand.

Memories of the past swamped him. He remembered Jauncey holding his wand, keeping it for safe-keeping. Telling him he wouldn’t really need it, not now. That he wasn’t ever going to be like the rest of the Graves’ family, that he wasn’t a warrior or an auror. He was just a pretty little face to make use of however Jauncey wished. He drew his knees to his chest, his heart racing.

A knock on the door startled him, and he tried to remember what he was meant to have got done today. Nothing came to mind immediately, which meant he had probably done it. Not that would matter – if Jauncey wanted to make him suffer, he would find a reason for it. He would always have a reason for blood if he wanted it. The door swung open, and there was a man there. His first thought was that it wasn’t Jauncey, and he felt sick, forcing himself to relax, to uncurl.

“Perce?” The man asked in a familiar voice, and he frowned, realising it was Theseus. Jauncey was dead. Theseus was his husband now. “You okay?”
“I…” Percival couldn’t bring himself to say yes. Couldn’t lie to his husband about something like this. “What can I do to get them back?” That was the most important thing to him at that moment.
Theseus looked at him blankly, frowning.
“Hey, Perce… you haven’t unpacked even, you okay?” He walked towards the bed and crouched in front of him. “Perce… what’s wrong?”

Percival shook his head. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t explain, just had to hope for forgiveness, for mercy. He doubted that he would get it though. Not with Theseus feigning ignorance.
“What do you need back?” Theseus asked. Percival hesitated for a moment. The lighter was the leaving gift he had been given, but the cufflinks were charmed warm with magic, and were meant to keep him safe. They were his choice, if he had to choose.
“My MACUSA cufflinks.” He answered, making himself confess. “They were in my suitcase.”

Theseus crouched down, looking at the suitcase beneath the bed, his forehead creasing in thought.
“These cufflinks, they weren’t shiny were they?”
“I wasn’t going to wear them. They… they were a gift.” He whispered. Theseus shook his head, standing up.
“Look, I don’t mind where you got them, or who they were from. You wear them as much as you want. I just want to know, were they shiny?”
“Yes.” Percival admitted, a little confused. He didn’t see why it would be that that Theseus was worried about.

Theseus swore softly under his breath, then smiled in a way that didn’t quite meet his eyes.
“I will go and get them for you. Dinner’s nearly ready, but I’m guessing you want those back before you eat?”
Percival managed a nod, and Theseus left the room.

Percival wanted to curl up beneath the blankets and hide from the world but he couldn’t do that. He was representing MACUSA, he had to give a good impression. He couldn’t let Theseus see him as being weak.

He tried to focus on the paper he had hidden, and that which Theseus gave him. He could write to his aurors. Kathern would have to be priority – given her lack of respect for rules she didn’t like, she’d probably visit if she didn’t receive reassurance that he was alright, and the last thing he needed was for her to get into trouble. Tina would need a letter too – the reports about the Grindelwald incident had said that she and Newt had become good friends, so he would make sure she had no reason to worry. Henery would need encouragement about leading the team. Seraphina wasn’t an auror, but she was an old friend. She was the one who understood his past.

He was brought from his thoughts by a knock on his door, and Newt walked in, one hand holding out the cufflinks, and the other pinning a large wriggling ball of dark fur to Newt’s chest. The ball of fur gazed at Percival with large brown eyes.
“Here.” Newt held out the two cufflinks, and Percival took them gratefully.
“Thank you.” He whispered. He didn’t know what the price would be of keeping them, but he had been given them back and he would do whatever he could to keep them safe.

“I’m sorry.” Newt mumbled his gaze looking over Percival’s left shoulder. “I’m afraid that normally I hide polished objects in the bedroom for the niffler to find. He must have seen these and thought it was part of the game…”

Percival quickly put the cufflinks into his shirt, and put the plain ones to one side. There was no point in attempting to hide what he had now that it was known.
“Thank you.” He repeated. He had to show that he was grateful, even if he knew that wouldn’t be enough to keep his treasures.

Newt reached out towards him, and Percival felt himself tense slightly. Newt tilted his head to one side.
“Would you like to be helpful?” He asked softly. Percival nodded, not able to bring himself to speak but wanting to know what he could do to keep the cufflinks. Newt smiled a little. “After dinner would you like to come into the case? I can introduce you to everyone…” His voice trailed off. Looking at Newt, Percival could see he was a little afraid, and he didn’t know how to respond to that.
“I would.” It might be a way that he could start paying off his debt to the brothers, both for saving his life and for all the kindnesses they had shown him since. The pile had grown so high he needed to start repaying them before it collapsed and smothered him.

Newt flashed a smile, his eyes lighting up, and just for a moment he looked as confident as Theseus had been when they had first met. Then Newt’s hesitance was back and he hurried from the room, still clutching the squirming creature.
“Dinner’s ready!” Theseus called, and Percival stood, glancing down at his wrists to check the cufflinks were still there. He left the matchbox where it was, sure it would be safer there than with him.

Percival was hit by the smell of food as he made his way down the stairs. He kept glancing down at his cufflinks. Theseus had shown no sign of knowing about the matchbox, so he had to hope that meant he was going to be able to keep it hidden. The cufflinks could be taken from him if he messed this up. But the matchbox was safe for now.

Theseus waved a hand in greeting, floating the food over to three plates. Percival hesitated but sat down in the third seat, awaiting instructions. It was never good to pre-empt what Jauncey wanted, but if he didn’t respond fast enough he would be punished. With no guidelines of how this was meant to go, the best he could do was stick with what he knew and hope he didn’t provoke more trouble.
“Eat up.” Theseus said after a moment and Percival obeyed. He noticed Newt was also eating slowly, and he wondered whether he might have been worried somehow. He would protect others from the wrath of his husbands’ if he could.

Percival noticed that Newt’s plate contained no meat – where he and Theseus had a steak, Newt had some pie that was flavoured with cheese. Percival fought back a flinch. Being punished by losing food was always one of the worst privileges to lose because the hunger ate away at you. It was even worse if you were still expected to cook. If he hadn’t been on such thin ice already, he would have tried to sneak some of the meat he had onto Newt’s plate. He couldn’t understand it. He was here for Theseus and Newt to take their frustrations out on. Newt shouldn’t have been being hurt or deprived of food.

“He’s sorry.” Newt said as he cut into the pie he was eating. Theseus rolled his eyes, and Percival leaned in a little, waiting to hear more. “He didn’t mean to steal the cufflinks.”
“It’s alright.” Percival said quickly, realising what the conversation was about. “I shouldn’t have hidden them.” He didn’t want Newt getting in trouble because of his mistake. The next moment Theseus leaned over and ruffled his brother’s hair, and Newt seemed to relax. Percival wondered if he had somehow misread the situation.

He ate his own meal, and soon Theseus was busy talking to his brother about work. Percival recognised a couple of the names, but generally stayed quiet. Eventually, the food was finished, and Newt beamed at him.
“Do you still want to come into the case?” Newt asked, sounding hesitant. It was almost as if he thought that Percival could say no.
“I’d like that.” Percival agreed.

Down in the case, Newt came alive, his posture more confident. Percival couldn’t help worrying that it was the absence of his brother which helped him. But he remembered Theseus from the war. He knew the older man thought the world of his little brother. He would never hurt him.

Soon those thoughts were pushed away as Newt introduced him to a menagerie of animals, each with their own needs. Percival was determined to learn the information provided. It was a chance to help, to prove his worth and start paying off debts.

“This is the niffler. You’ve already met-“ Newt gestured towards the round ball of fur from earlier, pointing out the pile of gold and other treasures it was seated upon. He could see his lighter there. He didn’t reach for it, only too aware that this could be a test. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t steal them anymore. He didn’t mean to upset you.”
“No harm done.” Percival said quickly. “And it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have had them.”

“You’re allowed precious things.” Newt said quickly. “Come on now, you haven’t met the occammy yet. I really could use your help with feeding them.” Percival followed, eager to be of use. Newt was patient in explaining each task, and he felt that he was managing to reduce his debt, at least a little.

***

Eventually, the two of them emerged from the case and Newt yawned.
“Goodnight Percival. See you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight.” Percival answered.

He wasn’t going to make the same mistake as he had the previous night. He waited until he heard footsteps in the hallway, until he knew that the other two were upstairs, and then he made his way to outside their door, listening for any clue of how he should make his appearance.

There was whispering from inside the bedroom, too quietly for him to make out the words. He stood frozen by the doorway. He couldn’t bring himself to advance, not when his arrival might be unwanted. He didn’t want them seeing him as a whore, as being desperate and needy and pathetic and stupid. But he couldn’t retreat either. He stood frozen by indecision.

Eventually, his legs gave out beneath him and he sat. He imagined what would happen if Jauncey found him in the hall like this. Tell him he was ungrateful. Remind him that he belonged on the floor.

He wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to steady his breathing. He couldn’t go forwards. He couldn’t go back.

The sun rose.

Percival quickly dressed and went to make breakfast, plating it up as the others emerged from their bedroom. Theseus smiled, taking over the final bits of the cooking, and eating enthusiastically. He was just cleaning the plates when he saw an owl at the window. He let it in, taking the letter it was carrying and patting the soft feathers on the creature’s stomach.
“Apparently-“ He began, and sighed slightly. “I’ve been called in. There’s an emergency, some kind of smuggling involving creatures. Newt, they’ve asked for you as well. Perce, will you be alright here?”

Relief flowed through Percival. If the other two were out at work, he might be able to snatch a few minutes of rest. There would be some time, no matter how brief, where he didn’t have to worry about what might be asked of him next.
“I’ll be fine thank you. It’ll give me some time to tidy.”
“The house isn’t that bad.” Theseus protested, heading towards the door.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Theseus asked from the doorway. “We can bother Nott some more.”
“I’m sure.” Percival answered, trying to smile. “Why does he dislike me anyway?”
“His brother’s been working on a guide to the British pureblood families. Prevent any pollution to the blood lines and that kind of thing.” Theseus said with a laugh. “Only he had narrowed it down to the sacred twenty nine families, and we go and marry someone with one muggleborn parent. For their list, you can’t have any muggleborns within two generations of a spouse. It’s all nonsense. Absolutely ridiculous. But there are certain families who take it seriously.”

Percival had never considered his mother’s blood status before. She was just who she was – a talented witch who had risen through the ministry to be one of the more important officials involved in the upholding of Rappaport’s law. Her early life immersed in No-Maj culture might have helped her with that, but aside from that he never gave it any thought. Even Jauncey had never mentioned it, never criticised him for that.

But the British had their own beliefs and customs, ways for him to fail that he never could dream of.

Theseus was already half-out of the door. Newt was following him when he paused, reaching into his pocket and picking out one of the occamy, which he placed on the floor near Percival’s feet.
“She doesn’t like the Ministry much. She won’t be any bother.” With that he took his brother’s hand and apparated away.

Percival reached down to stroke the occamy, who quickly grew to the size of a large domestic cat. She slithered off in the direction of the kitchen.

Percival followed close behind, finding the food for her. He wasn’t sure he was allowed to feed her, but he couldn’t imagine Newt would want her to be hungry. Quickly he dropped a few of the bugs onto the floor, before returning to the bedroom he had been given.

The bundimun eyed him from its current position above the wardrobe as he sat down on the bed. Exhaustion washed through him like a wave, and he leaned back on the mattress. The others were out at work. No one could harm him, and he hadn’t been left with any chores to do. He could rest for a short while, then get on with cleaning the house by hand.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and drifted into a deep sleep. As always, Jauncey was waiting for him in his nightmares.

Re: Fill: Who Pays The Piper (9/?)

(Anonymous) - 2017-04-22 08:32 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Fill: Who Pays The Piper (9/?)

(Anonymous) - 2017-04-27 19:37 (UTC) - Expand

After two days with no sleep, Percival was exhausted. Even with his nightmares, his body was relieved to be finally granted permission to rest, at least for a few moments. He had intended to only rest for a few minutes. A brief nap before he began to wash and clean the house. He had noticed that there was some silverware in the kitchen, but that already sparkled in the light. So he wasn't sure whether or not it might need cleaning. In his nightmares, Jauncey shoved his face down, getting him to inspect the candlesticks he was meant to have polished. Percival had tried. He had done all he could to remove the marks that blotched the base, but they remained. It was only after the candlestick was brought down hard on his back, on his leg, that he realised why he had been unable to remove that particular mark. It had been spelled to be immovable.

He shuffled about on the bed, trying to cringe away from his ex-husband's smiling face. He nearly screamed as Jauncey gripped his shoulder, shaking him hard. He bit his lip to hold in the noise, unable to stop a whimper from escaping him. Jauncey's grip didn't relent, but he could hear him speaking. The panic echoing around his brain was too loud for him to listen, but it was quite clear that Jauncey expected him to respond. He swallowed, and finally, reluctantly, opened his eyes.

Theseus Scamander was straddling him on the bed, his eyes wide.
"Hey... Hey Perce..." Theseus said softly, his hand moving by Percival's side. "Breathe with me. Breathe in.... and out... and in..." Sleep-addled and disoriented, Percival could do nothing but obey, following his husband's instructions. Eventually his pulse slowed to the extent that the room stopped spinning, and he managed to look calm.
"Sorry." He glanced towards the window and flinched - the sun had nearly set. Far from cleaning the house by hand, he had done nothing but lay in the bed as his exhaustion overwhelmed him.

"No need to apologise, you looked pretty out of it." Theseus said quickly. "I'm sorry. I was going to let you sleep, but... well, you sounded really distressed..." Theseus looked almost guilty, which made no sense. "I know when I have flashbacks to the war, I want to be woken..." He swallowed and shrugged. "But that's not the point now. We wanted to talk to you. And after that... Newt and I really need to talk to you. Take a few minutes to pull yourself together okay, we'll be in the parlour."

Percival nodded quickly. The punishment would be starting then. He would have made it worse for himself by not tidying, but he had already failed in a dozen different ways, more than even he could remember. Jauncey had never forgotten a transgression, never missed the opportunity to hold it over Percival's head. It was likely Theseus would be the same.

He wondered what he was meant to do before heading downstairs. He didn't want to preempt or guess what might be wanted. He checked his matchbox was still safe, but didn't risk a look inside. He couldn't waste time. To do anything before their punishment would be too presumptuous of him, and might only anger them more. He paused, and then slipped off his suit jacket, hanging it up smartly. He removed his shoes and socks a moment later, leaving him in just his waistcoat, pants and shirt. The waistcoat was fine material. It would be wrong to get blood on it. He unbuttoned it, returning it to the shelf it belonged to, and then made his way across to the room where the brothers were waiting.

Newt smiled to see him, not commenting on his outfit choice. He could only hope that meant he appeared properly repentant. He didn't know what would happen now, didn't even want to guess. If he was forced to decide, he would, but otherwise he wouldn't play that game. The waiting was the worst part. But now the waiting was nearly over.

"Hello Perce..." Theseus said, but his normal joviality didn't meet his eyes, and Percival found himself wondering if he had done something unimaginably wrong. Theseus didn't seem the kind to play games. He had been kind before.
"Thanks for coming to talk to us." That was Newt, and he was curled up strangely on the sofa, his knees towards his chest and his arms wrapped around them. "We... we wanted to say that we're worried about you. We were going to say earlier, but we got called away, and you looked peaceful when we first arrived-"

"What am I doing that's worrying you?" Percival asked quickly, running through his actions in an attempt to discover which of his actions might have offended.
"We're not worried by you." Theseus said quickly. "We're worried for you."
That was another of Jauncey's tricks. To punish him for his failures, and explain how Percival had brought this upon himself, how it was all his own fault, how he had to be more careful in the future. It had been believable from Jauncey. From Theseus, the one person he had allowed himself to get close to during the war, it was devastating.

"I'm sorry." Percival said, and he was. He was sorry about the entire situation, but he was also sorry that he was letting Theseus and his brother down. They deserved better.
"Was that the first sleep you got since arriving?" Theseus asked, and the look in his eyes made Percival sure that he was remembering the war, when Percival would work for days at a time before crashing in utter exhaustion. Percival nodded, and Theseus hissed.
"Okay. Look, whatever's bothering you... I know you went through a lot. With Grindelwald, and with the war before that. I can't pretend I can fix everything. But Newt and I...We're here for you, if we can be. We are on your side." Theseus reached out for Percival's hand. Percival held his hand out, palm up, thinking of what he had heard about the obscurial boy.

Newt suddenly frowned, and then raced across the room before pouncing on his own suitcase with a resounding thud. Percival watched the entire undertaking with some confusion - he was familiar with Newt's adventures while Grindelwald wore his face, but it was still surprising to see him wrestling with a suitcase.
"Something wrong?" Theseus asked, his attention mercifully momentarily diverted from Percival to his brother.

"Niffler's got loose." Newt muttered. "Percival, can I check in your room please"
So this was it then. This would be the trap. They would find his remaining treasures, and blame him for having them. No opportunity to apologise, just the destruction of what he cared for.

“Of course.” Percival answered quickly. Protesting or being reluctant would do him no favours. They were in control, and he couldn’t stop that. Newt rushed off, returning a few moments later with a wriggling niffler beneath his arm, and something shining in his other hand. Percival nearly gagged. Newt threw the niffler down into the suitcase, and then turned to Percival, holding out a shining object.

His lighter.

Percival reached for it before he thought better of it. Newt handed it over.
“Sorry. He tends to steal things-“
“How did you find it?”
“He carries things with him. When I checked him it fell out, but he hadn’t got into your room yet…”

Percival blinked back tears, grip firm on the lighter. He took a few deep breaths, gathering his strength, before turning to Theseus.
“So…so what happens now?”
“What do you mean?” Theseus asked softly, an arm around Newt’s waist. Both of the Scamander brothers were staring straight at Percival, identical stern expressions on their faces.
Percival looked down, making himself force out the next few words.
“What’s my punishment going to be?”

Re: Fill: Who Pays The Piper (10/?)

(Anonymous) - 2017-04-27 18:10 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Fill: Who Pays The Piper (10/?)

(Anonymous) - 2017-05-04 01:11 (UTC) - Expand

"What's my punishment going to be?"

The silence he was faced with in response was deafening. Percival was sure that both of the brothers could hear his heartbeat. When he'd first married Jauncey, barely eighteen and terrified out of his wits, he would have squirmed at the silence. Now he stood still, breathing slowly. He had been an auror once. He still held that strength. Sickness built in his chest.

"Punishment?" Theseus murmured after a few seconds, the single word loud in the room, even though it had been barely more than a whisper. Percival felt his insides twist, wondering if this was going to mean he had to choose. Had to dictate his own pain. It was a cruel game. Choose too low and he would be punished for trying to get off lightly. Too high, and he would be inflicting more than he should. With Jauncey, he had learned how to read him, the slight tells in his body that showed he wanted to inflict pain with his hands, or when he would be using spells, when he just wanted to watch as Percival suffered and when he wanted to inflict it. He had no such way of knowing with the brothers now.

"Where are your shoes?" Newt said softly, and Percival felt the room spin. Had that been too presumptuous. Was it wrong to assume it might be pain inflicted on his feet? That had always been a particularly nasty trick as he spent hours on his feet, trying to clean, and any injury was magnified. He stood still, trying to make himself submit. Theseus was standing now, approaching him.

Theseus gripped his arms, guided him to sit down, slowly spoke to him to try and control his breathing.
"Whatever that bastard did to you-" Theseus spat. "I swear, I will go into Azkaban and I will tear Grindelwald limb from limb if you give the word-"
Percival couldn't move. He wondered if some spell had been cast on him. He couldn't see why, unless the pain would be so great he would collapse otherwise. The room was spinning faster now.

"It's too much." That was Newt, and Percival wondered if he had lost some of the conversation. Had his punishment already been decided? "Grindelwald had him for a month. This is... this isn't that. This is... this is something worse." Theseus was still crouched in front of Percival. Blood was flowing through Percival's ears, too loud for him to hear, but Theseus waved his hand slowly, indicating when to breathe. It took a moment or two, but Percival worked it out, copying the gesture.

Newt was watching him, and so was Theseus, and he realised he still hadn't got an answer to his question. He still didn't know what they would do, and it was cruel not to tell him. He shivered.
"Percival, tell me-" Theseus began, and he knew he would have to spell out what he deserved, list off his transgressions. He would never remember the entire list. The thought of failing in even that task overwhelmed him, and the world around him faded into black.

***

He could hear murmuring as he began to regain consciousness, realising with some shame that he had fainted from fear. Something was pressed to his lips, hard and solid. Obediently he opened his mouth, and warm liquid slipped across his tongue. It took a moment to place the flavour - it was tea, but there was a potion mixed in with it.

Despite his reluctance, he opened his eyes and looked up to find Theseus crouched in front of him. The room was at a strange angle, and he had been moved back into his bed. Theseus smiled a little when he saw Percival's eyes upon him.
"It's a sedative." Theseus told him. "I'm sorry. We don't want to drug you, but whatever's going on..." He squeezed Percival's hand. "You're scared. And you don't need to be, not any more."

"I'm sorry." Percival whispered. "What... what's going to happen to me?" He asked. He felt like a child, pleading for knowledge, but he couldn't stand waiting any more. "If...if you want me to decide my own...my own punishment I will but please... please can I at least know your rules... I..." His voice shook, and Theseus gently fed him another sip of the tea, hot against his tongue. "I want to be good."

Theseus's hand rested on his own.
"Percival, you're not making much sense." He spoke gently, kindly, but there was a confusion underlying the concern. It didn't look like a joke. "Can you explain it to me?"
"I...I know I've failed you already." Percival whispered. "I...I brought things with me. The cufflinks and...and the lighter..." Even at this moment, he couldn't bring himself to give up the matchbox. The punishment might be worse for it, but he couldn't do that to himself. "I'm not a pureblood. I slept rather than cleaning and I haven't..." He paused for a moment, shame creeping in as he reached his final point. "I haven't been fulfilling my... my duties as a husband..."

Theseus was crouched before him, transfixed, and he could see Newt a short distance behind, some plants on the desk in front of him. Percival tried not to consider what potion Newt might be brewing for his punishment.
"I tried." Percival admitted, furious at his own terror. "Last night, I tried to be... to be available. I got to... I got to the door outside your room but I couldn't..." His voice shook for a moment. "I couldn't open it..."

Newt walked forwards, holding out a potion. It smelt like one that was used by women about to give birth, to help them cope with the pain. Jauncey had never hurt him badly enough that he had needed it, and he had been grateful for that.
"Just a sip." Newt cautioned and Percival obeyed. He wouldn't take advantage of the kindness of easing his punishment even slightly.

Theseus stood now, looming over him, and Percival tilted his head to the side, laying his throat exposed as he spread his legs the way he had been taught.
"Why do you think we're going to punish you?" Theseus asked.

Percival took a deep breath. He didn't know whether or not Theseus knew he was married. Theseus knew he wasn't a virgin. But knowledge of Percival's faults didn't protect him from suffering because of them.
"Because my last husband did."

Re: Fill: Who Pays The Piper (11/?)

(Anonymous) - 2017-05-04 18:37 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Fill: Who Pays The Piper (11/?)

(Anonymous) - 2017-05-06 20:28 (UTC) - Expand

"Because my last husband did." It was an admission of yet more failing, one more error in among so many others, and Percival waited to find out the response. An array of emotions danced across Theseus's face. Anger was there, and so was surprise, and something that looked like horror.
"Can we talk in the parlour please?" Newt asked softly. "One of the occamy is there, and if we leave her too long she'll go on another adventure." His voice was gentle, careful, and Newt's own expression wasn't as violent as Theseus's. Just confused.

"Sure." Theseus said quickly, backing up slightly, and shooting a look towards Newt. Newt shrugged, and Percival stood carefully, a little unsteady on his feet. The potions he had drunk had calmed him a little, given him a sense of distance from the terror that built in his chest, but he was still frightened. It was Theseus who took Percival's hand, apparating him the length of the house so that the two of them ended up beside the couch.

In the war, he would have smiled and teased Theseus about showing off by apparating such a short distance. Now, he sunk onto the couch, Newt walking in a moment later. Theseus waved a chair over, and Newt perched on the arm of it as Theseus took the seat, facing Percival.
"If you feel dizzy again say." Newt explained, and Theseus nodded. Newt leaned in, murmuring to Theseus, and Theseus's lips pressed together with anger. Percival did feel calmer, the sedatives having the desired effect, helping soothe his thoughts even as his heart raced.
"Of course."

"Where is he?" Theseus asked. "Your last husband?"
"He... he died. He died nearly fifteen years ago." Percival explained. "A fall. I... I was blamed, but...I didn't. It wasn't me." He hadn't gotten help, but he had tried. The warding around the house had held him trapped until Jauncey was dead, and by then it was too late. There had been murmurs that Jauncey's death had been convenient for his ambitious young husband with hopes of being an auror. Nothing had been proved. Two years later he was off in the continent, fighting with the British and moving on.

That was what hurt the most. Percival had moved on. He had made a life for himself, and now it was all lost. He waited for the brothers' judgement, waited to see what they would want from him. In a way it was a relief to have it all in the open, even as he worried about what would come next. If he survived the next few hours, he might have some rules he could use to shape his life, to succeed.

Theseus frowned, his gaze fixed on Percival, but Newt's hand was on his shoulder, calming him. It was clear that Newt was the one who would be more merciful, his body language calming. He was curled up slightly, not threatening but rather trying to reassure.
"Theseus?" Newt asked, and his brother turned towards him. "Could you make us some hot chocolate please?"
Theseus got up and walked out to the kitchen. Percival tried not to flinch at the sound of something being punched when Theseus was out of sight. Newt picked up the occamy from the floor, and rested it on Percival's lap.

"Could you pat her for me? Down the spine, but not on the head. They get worried if you touch their heads. She needs to get used to being handled by more than one person."
Percival blinked a little at the request, but did as he was asked, running his fingers along the overlapping scales. The occamy seemed to enjoy the attention, arching into his touch and hissing softly.
"That's good." Newt said after a few moments. "Just like that." He smiled, and Percival focused on the task he had been given, the occamy growing a little as he continued.

Theseus returned after a couple of minutes, a mug of coco in each hand and a third floating through the air ahead of him. He handed one to Percival and one to Newt, snatching the third for himself.

Percival looked between the two of them. It felt almost calm, as though they weren't angry, and the drink was warm but not hot enough to burn. He took a couple of sips as he tried to find the strength to speak, but he couldn't work out what to say. Eventually it was Theseus who broke the silence.
"We didn't know."

"I'm sorry." Percival mumbled into his mug. "I should have told you but I didn't want to cause problems. I just... I wanted to be better this time. Jauncey always... always showed me how ... how bad I was, how many mistakes I made, but I wanted to do better this time. I wanted to learn, to be good. To please you-"
"We ...we slept together in the war." Theseus said, sounding a little dazed. "I thought... I thought you wanted to-"
"You said it was just for fun." Percival answered after a moment, a little embarrassed. "It didn't matter. I wasn't committing to anything, I could just... just relax. It wasn't..." He shook his head. "I enjoyed it."

Theseus seemed to relax at that, and Percival couldn’t shake the feeling he was missing something. That he had made a mistake and frightened Theseus, even when Theseus was the one with all of the power here.
“I remember what you liked.” Percival said softly. “You… you never made it painful, it was just… just intimacy. I could do that for you now still if you want. I can do anything, I’m sorry I wasn’t… I’m sorry I had…” He shook his head. “You deserved better.”

The noise that Theseus let out was almost a laugh. He was shaking his head, and looked like he might start to cry at any moment. It was strange. He reached out for Percival’s arm, resting a hand on it as Percival continued to gently pet the occamy.
“It…was you who deserved better. But you… you were an auror Perce. You fought, you were brave and you saved lives. You came so far. Did… did MACUSA know what had happened to you when they agreed?”
“A few. Madam President did.”
“And she didn’t try and talk to us about it? Let you think you were just… just being sent to… to what? Be our toy? Please us? They were already throwing around the idea of execution, but it seems they wanted to hurt you and us.” Theseus’s eyes glittered angrily, and Percival flinched back slightly.

“Theece.” Newt snapped at his brother, pulling him up from his anger. “None of that was Percival’s fault, at all.”
“I know that.”
“Then stop taking it out on him.” Newt said softly. He watched Percival closely before speaking, his gaze resting on Percival, focused. “Yesterday, you helped with the creatures. If you could continue with that, it would help me a great deal.”

Percival nodded quickly in response, trying to understand. It seemed like Newt was offering him a way to start to repay his debt, a way that he could rely on. He nodded quickly. It occurred to him that whatever they had drugged him for hadn’t started yet.

Theseus managed a faint smile, but his eyes were shadowed.
“This man… hurt you a lot, didn’t he?” Theseus said, speaking carefully. “You aren’t going to be hurt here.”
Percival thought of everything that Jauncey had told him. How it had always been punishment he deserved, mistakes that he had made when he should have known better. He couldn’t help believing that it was his fault. It seemed like he was tricking them, and that when they discovered how bad he was, he would be punished.

“I’ll try and be good.” He promised again, the words sounding weak, echoing emptily. The strange thing was, they seemed to be blaming Jauncey for what had happened. “It wasn’t his fault…” Percival murmured. “He just gave me what I deserved.”

Theseus sighed softly.
“No. We’ll show you what you deserve Perce. Just give us time.” Theseus sounded like he was in pain. “But it won’t hurt. You won’t be hurt, not by us, not at all.”

Percival tried not to think of Jauncey’s friends. But Theseus sounded so honest, so sincere.
“Do you have anything you want to ask?” Newt said softly.
“Why did you give me that potion and then not… not punish me?”
“To calm you. It gives a little distance, it makes conversations like this… easier.” Newt answered, and Percival could see the logic there.

“I’m going to cook dinner now.” Newt said, leaving Theseus and Percival alone. Theseus was gazing at the occamy on Percival’s lap.
“He’s dead?”
Percival nodded, and Theseus sighed, silence falling between them. Theseus was lost in his own thoughts, as Percival tried to make sense of what he had been told. When Theseus had said he would give Percival what he deserved, it felt like a promise not a threat.

Theseus reached out and squeezed Percival’s hand. Percival stayed still, waiting for his husband's judgement to fall, but looking at Theseus his eyes were kind.

"I am glad he's dead." Theseus said softly. Percival swallowed and inclined his head.
"I'm glad too." He murmured. He wasn't sure whether he should voice that out loud, but it was the truth. Percival was relieved to be freed from Jauncey, and the opportunities he had found since he was released from him. He swallowed and licked his lips, glancing at Theseus. Theseus looked uncomfortable. His grip was still firm around Percival's hand, his thumb stroking the back of Percival's hand.

"You... have been expecting us to hurt you, haven't you?"
Percival looked down and closed his eyes, his own grip squeezing gently around Theseus, drawing strength from the contact with him. He tried to remember the war, remembered how Theseus would smile. Remembered how he had felt safe. He gathered all the strength he had, and nodded once, waiting to see how Theseus would respond. He braced himself for shouting, for punches, for pain.

"You never said." Theseus murmured, and Percival shook his head a little, opening his mouth to apologise and pausing as Theseus pressed a finger to his lips. "We never asked you. Newt and I... we didn't want you to die. When marriage was offered as an alternative, we both jumped at the chance. We never thought about what you wanted, we just thought..." He paused and shook his head, frown creasing his forehead.

"If it had been me." Theseus continued. "I wouldn't have worried. I'd have trusted you, so I would have felt safe. I'm not... I'm not angry you didn't trust me. I'm worried." He wrapped an arm around Percival's shoulder, and Percival leaned into the contact, nuzzling into the warmth of his skin, focused on the heat of him. It was soothing. The arm around him was a security, but he wasn't pinned so tight he would have been unable to escape. Had he wanted to, he could have freed himself in a few brief moments.

It was a surprise to realise he didn't want to.

"You must miss your things." Theseus said after a moment. "Your wand most of all. I know how scared Newt was when it was suggested he might lose his..." Theseus lapsed into silence, clearly lost in his thoughts. Percival sat beside him, his breathing slower now. He wasn't worried. Instead he was focused on the physicality of Theseus against him, the strength of a body that he knew would not be used to harm him. Theseus's hand was on his shoulder, and the contact was warm. It was almost as though Theseus's was giving Percival his strength.

"I can't promise I'll be able to get your wand back." Theseus said softly. "But I will try. There must be other things - you brought so little."

Percival thought of the hidden matchbox, the papers that Seraphina had given him so that he could write to her, along with his own important files - his birth certificate, his first marriage, and reports on some of his cases. Reminders to help him keep his mind. The certificate that had given him to the Scamander boys, like a prize, signed with his own blood.

He also thought of his own apartment, filled with things that he had collected and not been allowed to bring back.
"A few." He admitted, and it was harder than he would have wanted to admit to say those few brief words. He was so frightened of getting this wrong, of managing to anger the man, but this was Theseus.

"You're tired?"
"A little. I wanted to... to keep things good for you, to make you happy, but..."
"We'll have dinner." Theseus said firmly, not allowing any argument as he set out his plan. "The three of us. Then you can rest, and I will look into if I can get any of your things back." Theseus gazed at him. "Is that alright?"

Percival nodded. Being asked for his opinion felt shocking in a way. Jauncey had certainly never cared about what he thought or what he wanted. But Theseus was different.

"Food's ready." Newt called out, and Percival reached for Theseus's hand as the two of them walked in to where Newt had laid out three place settings. Newt waved them over, directing Percival to where an occamy was waiting.

"Had a good talk?" Newt asked, his gaze towards the plate.
"Productive." Theseus answered.

Newt nodded.
"Do you need more of that potion Percival?"
Percival shook his head. He didn't want to be drugged. After everything else, he didn't think he could cope with that. He didn't want to lose focus. Even now, the certainty he had felt with Theseus had faded. This wasn't the war any more, and Theseus wasn't his friend. Theseus was his husband, and the contract he had signed meant that Theseus and his brother basically owned him.

He needed to keep his wits about him. He ate in silence, glad that he knew he was expected to be in his own bed that night.

***

The food tasted like ashes in Theseus's mouth.

He had been trying to save a friend. To make life easier for a man who had been through so much and who deserved help. Who deserved kindness which he hadn't seen so far.

Instead he had left Percival a wreck. The man he knew from the war, that he had read about in the newspapers, was lost behind the sheer terror of what he had been forced to endure. Theseus didn't know what to make of that, other than a sense of bitterness that Percival's first husband was dead. If he hadn't been, Theseus would have taken a great deal of joy in punching the man repeatedly in the face.

Theseus tried to contain his anger. If Percival realised, it would only make things worse. But even knowing that, it was still hard when fury burned within him. Percival had been failed. There was more he wanted to know, but he couldn't ask Percival. Not when the question would be so hard for him. Instead, he would find the answers he needed from their source.

When food was finished, Newt got up and walked Percival back to his room, pausing to feed the Bundimun there. Theseus sent the plates to the sink with a wave of his hand, looking up only as Newt returned. Newt was frowning a little, but he smiled at Theseus.
"He seems jumpy."
"Newt, He has no wand, he's far from home, and he's lost everything he cares about. No wonder he's jumpy."

"We should ask for his wand back." Newt suggested. Theseus frowned, about to point out the stupidity of that idea when he realised that it might just work. If he and Newt were to be in charge of their husband, that meant that they got to decide what was best for him.

"It's worth a go." Theseus conceded. "I'll ask for it. If not, I want you to take him to Ollivander's and buy him a new wand."
"You want me to?" Newt asked, visibly startled.

"I do." Theseus agreed. "I've got a few people I need to talk to. Make sure that the President of MACUSA realises what she has done to him for a start."

Newt paused and then nodded.
"Be careful with him Theseus. The fact he's frightened... I don't think that is all there is."

Theseus remembered the previous night, when he had heard Percival say about his duties as a husband and fought down the bile that threatened to escape.

***

Lying in a bed still felt strange for Percival, but he knew that this was where he could rest at least for a little while. He wouldn't be punished for resting here. Theseus's words echoed in his mind. Theseus didn't expect to hurt him. Theseus knew he missed home.

He got to his feet and walked to the matchbox, writing "S. Picquery." On the front. He didn't charm it, even though it would have been easy to hide such information if he wanted to. On the back he wrote about everything that had happened since his coming to England. Theseus is angry a lot, but it seems more for me than at me. Newt showed me his creatures. It's alright here, they have been kind. I just don't quite understand them. I hope this finds you well. Emboldened by his words, he folded the paper and placed it in the box so it would be transported to the box's double before he had the chance to regret it.

Theseus had hoped the feeling of sickness swirling in his gut would lessen now that he understood what was wrong with Percival. But his own lack of knowledge haunted him. He couldn't explain what had happened before, and without knowing that he didn't know how he could heal him.

Newt squeezed his hand, cuddling up against his side. Newt was wearing an oversized pair of pyjamas, his hair even more of a mess than normal.
"Stop worrying." Newt demanded. Theseus looked at him and raised an eyebrow.
"Newt, I don't think you understand what he's been through."
"Not yet." Newt agreed. "But we both know he's safe now. Getting someone or something to safety is the hard part. Now that he's safe, all we need to do is help him see it."
"And how do you suggest we do that?" Theseus asked, thinking of how terrified Percival had been.
"Well, with creatures I talk to them. I show them around their environment and I feed them and make sure their needs are met. Then it depends on the creature - some can't stand to be alone, so I climb in beside them the first night or two. Others I give space to settle. It depends on the creature. You're the kind that would need company."

Theseus nodded, trying to smooth down some of the strands of Newt's hair. His brother might have been best with injured and frightened creatures, but Theseus could see now he was the same with humans. He thought of Newt after the war, holding him through every nightmare. Remembered how Newt's anger had mirrored his own at the fate that awaited Percival, how he had stood by Theseus's side and agreed to marry him, so that if something happened to Theseus Percival would not be sent to die.
"Thank you." He said softly. "Newt, get some sleep…"

He closed his eyes and drifted off, hoping Percival would be sleeping well in his own room. The next morning, he could head into the Ministry and see about getting Percival's wand back.

Theseus would have liked to walk in spells blazing, and demand they returned his lover's wand, that Percival was treated with the respect he deserved, and freed from what had come before. But politics did not work in that way. Leaving Newt to make breakfast, and Percival to sleep, Theseus headed into the office, going directly to the Minister's rooms, knocking smartly until the secretary showed him inside.

He bowed formally.
"Minister."
"Auror Scamander. To what do I owe this early visit? I thought that you and your brother would be enjoying the time you have been given to...relax."
"It is time most gratefully received Minister, although the planned trip to America in a few days - I saw that Nott was down to attend, and I believe I would be better suited. And the marriage is partially to assist our relations with the Americans. It would be foolish not to send me."
"As you wish. Now, are you going to tell me why you are here, or do I have to keep guessing?"
"I wish to ask a favour."
"What is it this time?" The Minister drawled, and Theseus made himself smile brightly. "I would like to have Percival Scamander's wand."
The Minister frowned, his lips moving in the shape of words. Theseus thought he could make out 'highly innappropriate' and 'dangerous'. Before the minister could speak, Theseus continued.

"I have a busy life as you know Minister, and a dangerous one. There are dozens of criminals out there who blame me for their misdeeds being discovered, and who would happily attack or kill me. Then there is my brother's work. He is having Percival assist him with his care of the creatures. I would feel safer if the man was armed, given the potential risk of-"
"Of some of your brother's pets." The Minister agreed. "There is a logic to your argument, but I do not think that we can trust Percival."

"Minister, I can manage my own life. If I say that he will not be able to use magic against my brother or I, then I believe I have the strength to ensure it. I will make sure he does not have access all the time, only when I deem it advantageous."
For a moment, Theseus thought he would be denied. Instead, the black wand was handed over.

He checked it over in his hands, then nodded his thanks to the Minister, and made his way home. The smell of cooking filled the air - Newt was preparing breakfast, and Percival was standing nearby, a worried expression on his face.
"Perce, you look worried?" Theseus queried. The emotions that warred over Percival's face in response were concerning - he was clearly afraid, but there was more to it than that. Eventually he squared his shoulders, his body going into a duelling stance. It was a position aurors often took when they thought they would be attacked.

For a few seconds there was silence, and then Percival spoke.
"If you want to punish anyone by withholding food it should be me. The niffler was only following its nature when it stole. I was foolish."

Theseus frowned, trying to work out where exactly that outburst had come from.
"No one is being starved under my watch."
"But..." Percival began, then ducked his head down. His internal conflict continued a little longer before he looked up, meeting Theseus's eyes. "You aren't allowing Newt to eat meat."

Theseus fought back a laugh, everything falling into place. Percival had worked out Newt had different food, and set out to protect him. A moment later he realised that past experience could explain Percival's mental leap now, and that was a concerning thought.
"I don't want to." Newt said softly, taking advantage of the silence to speak. "I don't enjoy meat. It... bothers me. I can feed it to my creatures. They eat meat because it is in their nature. But I... I cannot. It's not in my nature."

Theseus nodded encouragingly to Newt, before walking closer to Percival and smiling.
Percival pressed his lips together, but before he could argue Theseus was holding out his wand so that he could grasp the hilt.

***

It actually took a few moments for Percival to realise what was being held towards him. It wasn't just a confiscated wand. It was his own wand, the one he had surrendered in the marriage.

He took a deep breath, before reaching out. His hand was shaking so badly that he couldn't stop it. But his wand was there. He nearly grabbed it, before looking up at Theseus.
"Why?" He asked. He couldn't understand why Theseus would arm him given their current situation. Jauncey had thought his having a wand would be dangerous, and he had been less powerful then.
"During the war I felt better knowing you had my back Perce." Theseus answered, and slowly Percival nodded. He waved his wand, and a few sparks flitted out of the end.
"You can do magic here." Theseus said, and Percival stared in shock. Theseus shrugged his shoulders, as though his words were the simplest and most obvious thing imaginable. Percival had worried he would never be allowed to use magic, and now here his wand was returned to his grip. "Do as much magic as you want. You don't have to keep the place tidy or cook food, but I guess it's a lot easier to do that with magic than without?"
Slowly, and feeling a little dazed, Percival nodded. He gazed at his wand. He had feared that it had been broken when he had been married off. This was the wand that he had had from Ilvermorny. He couldn't lift his head from the wand, hypnotised.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course." Theseus said firmly. "You can do wandless magic too if you want." Theseus looked so calm, and Pecival tried to understand it. In the war he and Theseus had looked after each other. He hadn't realised that would still stand, given the nature of their relationship.

Newt smiled, dishing out the breakfast and floating it to the table. Percival hesitated for a moment, seeing the uneven distribution of food - but Newt certainly didn't look unhappy with what he was doing. Newt reached out for a moment, his hand resting on Percival's own.
"Thank you for standing up for me." Newt said softly, his gaze away from Percival's face. "I appreciate it."

Percival nodded, a little startled by the comment. It was good to know he had helped, even if his initial understanding of the situation had been wrong. Theseus kept smiling at Percival, and Percival shyly smiled back. It felt like back in the war, when they had been friends, when they had been close to each other and it had been easy. Everything had made sense back then, and now nothing did.

After the meal was finished, Theseus set the dishes to washing themselves. Then he turned to both of them, and paused.
"Newt, do you have anything vital here in the next week or so?"
"A few edits." Newt said with a shrug. "But I can do them anywhere."

Theseus nodded, and turned to Percival.
"I'm going to be visiting America for a series of meetings with MACUSA. I would like both of you to accompany me. And Perce, while you're there, see your friends. They must miss you."
Percival stared at him in shock, and then smiled a little, managing a nod.
"Thank you." He breathed.

Percival could scarcely believe he was going home. He had thought he had been forced from America forever. He would return as less than he once was. Henery was director now, working beside Seraphina. He would be a visitor in MACUSA, no longer striding to his own office but instead seeing the people he cared for most on borrowed time. Yet it was still a greater kindness than he had expected. He would be going home.

He wrote a quick note to Picquery.
Scamanders visiting America for work. I am to accompany them. I think I'll be able to see you, even if briefly. Hope you are doing well and that Henery is settling into his new job well. He's a clever man, he will aid you. He slipped the note into the box, and began to pack, jumping and hiding the box beneath him when there was a knock on the door.

Newt peered around, blinking almost owlishly.
"I wondered if you needed to put anything in my case." Newt explained. "I tend to use the muggle worthy setting to hold enough for a few days, but anything I might need for longer I store in my study." Percival thought of the ramshackle shed full of books. He wasn't sure he would have called it a study, but he nodded regardless.
"Thank you." He murmured politely. Newt nodded.
"It's alright. There's a lot of space, and the animals like you. It really is no hardship for you to come and visit." Newt insisted, his skin developing a mildly concerning pink hue.

Percival tried not to let himself think too much about what that might mean.
"Or you can have your own case." Newt said, as though just remembering the fact. He pushed Percival's door open a little further, revealing that in one hand he was holding a suitcase. Percival hid his smile as Newt placed the case down beside him.
"If you need anything at all, let me know."

He nodded, watching Newt retreat. It was strange. He knew how these things were meant to work. Newt and Theseus had power over if he lived or died, and were expected to act as such, to protect their status. They certainly weren't meant to be helping ensure that he was comfortable before he slept, or bringing him cases. Offering the chance to hide things from them.
"Thank you." He called out, remembering his manners just before Newt left the room completely.

Newt turned back, flashing him an utterly brilliant smile.
"It's not as big as mine, but there's...well, there's an office in there. You can always use that if you need a quick get away from everything here." Newt spoke with the voice of experience, his gaze lowered as he spoke. Percival smiled at him.
"That's very kind." He said honestly, and that praise seemed to help Newt to relax. Percival didn't speak again, and Newt left without a backwards glance.

He paused for a few moments, then turned to his case. It was black leather, with silver locks - and it was far smarter than Newt's own battered box filled with creatures. He opened it on the muggleworthy setting, and carefully filled it up with the books and clothes he needed. He could only hope he wouldn't lose the case somehow.

It didn't seem that likely to him that Theseus or Newt would take it from him as punishment. Relaxing in a situation like his had the possibility of being dangerous, he knew that. But he still did feel a little calmer with them.

Having packed the muggleworthy side of the case, it was time for an exploration of what else it held. Climbing down the stairs was like stepping into another world. Some background part of Percival's brain suggested he investigate the possibility of spaces such as this case being fully utilised by aurors. He had dealt with investigations before where other people had transfigured themselves. Using something like this would enable them to investigate. It would be easy enough for things to get left behind. To leave a suitcase like this in the corner of an office, stuffed to the brim with aurors - it had the potential to completely transform MACUSA's work.

He would have to tell Henery.

There was a desk, and a comfortable looking chair, shelves - some empty, others full of books. There was a single bed in the corner, and there were clouds floating across the artificial sky. He looked around, blinking back tears. This was his sanctuary. A gift from the others, somewhere he would be safe, somewhere that the world couldn't get him.

Knowing that, he wandered around the room. In one of the corners it opened up to reveal what was a small version of the pantry, with a fire blazing in the grate and a leather arm chair. There was another room leading off that one, and another after that. Four rooms. Four sanctuaries. He could hide there, and he could be safe.

It shook him, to know he had been offered that. But he clambered back up, and used his wand to float a few books into the case. He picked up the suitcase, and walked into the parlor.

"Hello." He said softly. Theseus looked up and smiled.
"You like it?"
He nodded.
"Thank you." He said softly. His voice shook a little, but he managed to hold his head up high. "This is... this is useful." Percival answered, and Theseus nodded.

"We both were working on it for you. It was Newt’s idea. You deserve something... well, we do quite a lot of travelling. It's good to have somewhere to go. And Newt's place is chaos."
"My case is fine." Newt protested, but he smiled. Percival nodded, and then Newt paused.
"Do you mind if I travel in my case?" He glanced at his brother and then at Percival.
"Of course not." Theseus said quickly. "Newt and the creatures sometimes get a little nervous. You could travel with him if you want?"

"Percival considered, and then shook his head.
"I'll stay out. Keep the case safe."
Newt flashed a smile and then climbed into the case. Percival picked up the case and glanced at Theseus.
"Ministry has a Portkey arranged."
"Thank you."
He walked beside Theseus into the Ministry. The usual chaos was going on, people scurrying around - it didn't feel like MACUSA though. Too formal, too British, too different. He carried the case containing Newt and his creatures.

They made their way to the Portkey Office. Theseus squeezed his hand, and Percival smiled.
"I've got to see President Picquery when we get there. You go and do whatever you need to. We'll be in some of the rooms MACUSA sets aside for foreign aurors." He shrugged a little and smiled. "So maybe meet up there for dinner? If you need to eat elsewhere, that's fine. Just... try and be back by the morning?"

"You sure about this?" Percival asked. "You know I could just run and never look back."
"I know." Theseus answered. "And if that's what you do, I'll know you did it because it was what is right for you. But I hope we might have a chance, and if we do, I think that you'll be there." He signaled for Percival to put Newt's case down. Newt clambered out and gripped the portkey rather firmly with his left hand, leaning his head on Theseus's shoulder.

With his right hand, he reached out and squeezed Percival's hand. Percival smiled and gripped the portkey, and the world twisted around them. As the air cleared, the three of them were standing in MACUSA's central hall. Percival ducked his head slightly. Theseus reached out and squeezed his shoulder, guiding his head up so that he looked at him.
"You don't have to hide who you are here." Theseus said softly, pointing over to where Henery was striding across the foyer. "Go and talk to him. He looks pleased to see you."

"Thanks." Percival whispered, and walked towards him. Henery greeted him as an old friend, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and squeezing gently.
"It's good to see you." He said softly. "Hasn't been the same without you sir." He walked with Percival to the aurors' office, and Percival felt himself stand taller with every step. He was proud to see the aurors, and relieved to know they were alright.
"I'm going to be here for a few days. Theseus has work here." He explained.

"Is that your wand?" Starling asked, reaching out and touching it. Percival nodded, holding it out for them to all see.
"They returned it to me. They're treating me well." Percival answered, his voice falling into the old lines he used to pedal when questioned about Jauncey. Only it was the truth now. His team were worried about him, but he realised that they didn't need to worry. He wasn't afraid.

That realisation was shocking, but he couldn't linger on that.
"So, what have you been doing? Anything you need me to help with?"

Starling hollered in joy and Henery nodded.
"Damn good to have you back sir."

***

The jubilation of being reunited with his aurors faded to the kind of intense focus this place had always been filled with. By the time he was heading off, he felt like he could be useful. Henery grabbed his elbow.
"Sir?"
"Yes?" He asked, giving up on correcting him.

"It'd be good if we can work together. Maybe we can pass files when you go back?"
"I'd like that." Percival answered, walking out of the auror's office.

He made it three steps before a wave of magic sent him slamming into the nearest wall. He twisted to find Secretary Piers, Chief Financial Officer for MACUSA, glaring up at him. He pushed the magic off of himself with a wave of his hand, and with a flick of his wrist sent Piers's wand flying away.

Piers tried to grab the wand, but he was old and his magic was no match to Percival's own. Piers had always been weaker than Percival, even when Percival had been eighteen years old and introduced to all of Jauncey's friends. His power hadn't mattered then. But he was stronger now. He walked away.
"I can't believe they let you back in to the country after what you did for Grindelwald. I knew you'd always spread your legs for anyone you wanted, but this is... this is spectacular. You betrayed everything MACUSA stands for."

"No." Percival said softly, keeping walking. He turned the corner, and found Seraphina and Theseus walking side by side. Theseus's eyes were damp, but seeing Percival he froze.
"What happened?"
"Nothing." Percival said softly.

"I was telling the traitor here that he wasn't welcome here." Piers answered. "We don't want Grindelwald's whore."
"Secretary Piers, hold your tongue." Picquery spat, as Theseus turned on him.
"You do not speak to my husband that way." He snarled. "Picquery, after what we spoke of - I want to talk to this man in the morning, with you present."
"I shall escort him to the cells myself." She answered, forcing Piers away. Theseus walked over to Percival, and wrapped his arms around him.

Percival's shoulders shook.
"Let's go to our room. Then we can... we can talk."

Returning to America was hard for Theseus - he was only too aware that this was the place that had sentenced his little brother to death, and had been willing to send his best friend to Azkaban for something which was in no way his fault. But there was no way that he could ignore how clearly Percival wanted to return home. With what little he had managed to learn from him about his past marriage, it was clear that Percival deserved to feel safe. Even if Percival had told him nothing, he would have wanted to help him. But now that he knew, he was sure Percival was suffering more than he was letting on.

That was reason enough for him to jump at the chance to visit. He could only hope that seeing his friends would help Percival to relax, and understand that he was safe. More than that, he was hoping he might gain the opportunity to speak to President Picquery, to ensure that no one else would ever be abandoned the way Percival had been.

He couldn't help feeling angry at how little support Percival had been given. How America had been willing to have him sent to his death without speaking up for him, how they had appeared willing even to contemplate Azkaban. None of it was right. Not when Percival had served MACUSA for his entire life.

Newt was putting the last of his things into his case as Theseus rested in the parlour. He'd traveled enough that he always had a bag ready to take with him on his next adventure. It was a relief when Percival appeared, his new case at his side. Theseus had worked with Newt to create it in the hope that it would provide him with a sense of security and sanctuary, and it seemed to have been working. Theseus was relieved with that.

The two of them made their way to the Ministry, Newt hiding in his case. He always preferred to travel with his creatures, finding that they were less stressful travelling companions and better conversation than most humans. Theseus was careful not to take that personally.

Once they were in the Portkey office, he set out to explain what would happen, reaching across to squeeze Percival's hand. It seemed to soothe him a little.
"I've got to see President Picquery when we get there. You go and do whatever you need to. We'll be in some of the rooms MACUSA sets aside for foreign aurors." He shrugged a little, hoping that would be enough to help him relax. "So maybe meet up there for dinner? If you need to eat elsewhere, that's fine. Just... try and be back by the morning?"

Percival frowned a little as he glanced up at him, looking genuinely surprised.
"You sure about this? You know I could just run and never look back."
"I know." Theseus answered honestly. "And if that's what you do, I'll know you did it because it was what is right for you. But I hope we might have a chance, and if we do, I think that you'll be there." He smiled at Percival, and pointed at the case.

Despite Newt's preference for travelling in the case, sometimes it was easier for him to be outside of it - and using a portkey was a perfect example. Newt clambered out, resting his head on Theseus's shoulder, as they gripped the portkey, moving from the Ministry to MACUSA in the space of a few heartbeats.

Percival looked hopeful for a moment, glancing around before turning his gaze down at his own feet. He was shrinking, and it worried Theseus. It was almost as though Percival believed he was less than the rest of them. He reached down, tilting Percival's head up towards him and smiling a little, hoping it would calm him. But their arrival had drawn attention.

He could see an auror striding across the space towards them.
"You don't have to hide who you are here. Go and talk to him. He looks pleased to see you."

Percival whispered his thanks, and walked away. Theseus watched him go, and then headed to Picquery's office as Newt slipped away to find his friends. He hadn't made an appointment but he had to hope she would be willing to meet him, to listen to what he might have to say. He knocked smartly on her office door, felt the warmth of her magic sweep through him.

"Come in Mister Scamander, take a seat." A voice called out, and he walked in, bowing smartly. Just because he was furious with her didn't mean he couldn't act appropriately. "Why are you here?" She asked, looking rather concerned. "What have you done to Mister Graves?"
"Mister Percival Scamander," Theseus corrected tartly, "is doing much better now than he would have been in Azkaban's cells. He's got his wand back. He's helping my brother with his creatures, and he is rebuilding his life after everything that Grindelwald and MACUSA did. You were willing to sell him out. You knew he was frightened and you made no effort to explain. You even suggested execution, and then you ask me what it is that I did to him? You're the ones who hurt him."
"MACUSA did nothing to Director Graves." Seraphina snapped. She leaned forwards to get closer to him, wand out on the table in front of her.

"MACUSA was willing to send him to Azkaban. If I hadn't managed to claim pureblood privilege-" Theseus tried to explain, only to stop at the look of sheer horror on the President's face.

"What do you mean, pureblood privilege?" She spat. "Is that how it works in Britain. People like you get their pick of those who will be getting sent Azkaban? You marry them and they're what, meant to be grateful?"

"I didn't claim it for me." Theseus frowned. "I managed to persuade the Minister that it should apply to members of the Twelve as well as the pureblood British families. I argued it for Percival."

"What?" The President looked confused now, as well as angry.

"Do you even know..." Theseus took a deep breath and then continued. "Pureblood privilege is the idea that if a crime has been committed that would be sufficient to get a witch or wizard sent to Azkaban, they can instead ask their victim to make a deal. Marrying into a pureblood family... it was a way of getting rid of unwanted pureblood children, to keep others out of the prisons... By saying that Newt and I would accept the status that being married to Percival would entail, rather than ask for his punishment... it would save his life."

Picquery stared at him, sheer incomprehension written across her features.
"And so just like that, you decide to marry him?"
"I saved his life." Theseus answered. "I know you must miss him, But he's better off with us than dead or in Azkaban. You can talk to him about it. I brought him here so that his friends could see him, so that he wouldn't miss you all so much and..."
"No." Her voice was cold, her eyes glinting dangerously with sheer fury. "He asked to die. That last night, we sat up together because he needed to not be alone, and he asked me to let him die."

She swallowed.
"I had to look my closest friend in the eye and tell him that no, he couldn't be killed, because the British weren't placing that on the table. I had to tell him I didn't want him to lose his soul, that I couldn't face him being destroyed like that. That the only option that was available was his worst fear. That I couldn't even kill him. And you walk in here and act as though I'm in the wrong, as though the contract you made wasn't written in Percival's blood." She stood up now, her eyes glinting.

"You had him sign away his own name. And you waltz in here, calling him Scamander as though it was something that he chose, as though he wasn't little more than a slave. You were a virtual stranger to him. Maybe you were close once, in the war. I know he spoke kindly of a British auror back then. But you don't know him. No one who knew him, no one who cared about him, could have done what you did."

She took a deep breath.
"You made a liar of me Mister Scamander. I lost my best friend, for three long years. And when I found him again, he was broken. He'd been hurt worse than you could ever comprehend, tortured. Because that's what that man did. He broke him, tortured him. He hurt him, and he let his friends hurt him. Friends that have risen through MACUSA, that I have been unable to stop. He took one of the most powerful wizards of our generation, and he turned him into his own private punching bag. He beat him to the edge of death, and still expected dinner on the table. And he made him lie. He made him say that everything was fine, because if he said anything else it might have damaged that precious pureblood reputation that you claim saved him. When that monster died, I promised him that it would never happen again. That he would become stronger, and that he would never ever get hurt like that again. And you made a liar of me."

Her eyes were damp with tears now, and Theseus watched, beyond words. He'd known that the previous marriage had been bad, but he'd never have guessed it was the nightmare that she was setting out before him.

"You made a liar of me." The President repeated. "You know that Percival is skilled with wandless magic? That's because his last husband confiscated his wand. You took him and you trapped him in his worst nightmare, you took him across the Atlantic, and then you dare come in here and criticise me for what has happened?"

Theseus blinked, startled to find that he had started to cry.
"Mister Graves is still my closest friend." The President continued. "And I will not allow you to destroy him. If you care for him the way you claim, then you'll be glad I've told you the truth. Someone had to."
"I'll talk to him." Theseus whispered. It wasn't enough. Not after her outburst. Not after all he had learned. But it was all he had to offer.

***

Theseus wiped his eyes as the two of them walked side by side from her office.
"Thank you for... being honest." Theseus managed. It was a horrific situation, but knowing the truth could help. Now that he understood, he would have to work out how to fix it.

"It's alright Mister Scamander. I know you were doing what you could to save him. And it's because of you that he's been able to keep his soul..." This was hard on both of them. But it was clear that both of them had Percival's best interests at heart. That at least meant they would work together.

He heard a raised voice, walking a little faster. As they approached a corner Percival stepped out, pale with anger.
"What happened?" Theseus asked as tenderly as he could.
"Nothing."

Another man walked around the corner. He was an older gentleman, wearing a smartly cut suit. He looked furious. When he spoke, his voice dripped with cold fury.
"I was telling the traitor here that he wasn't welcome here. We don't want Grindelwald's whore."
"Secretary Piers, hold your tongue." Picquery hissed, as Theseus fought to find the words he needed. He was horrified that anyone would talk to Percival like that. That he could still be blamed when he had fought, when he had resisted.
"You do not speak to my husband that way." He snarled. "Picquery, after what we spoke of - I want to talk to this man in the morning, with you present."
"I shall escort him to the cells myself." She answered, taking the man away at wand point. Theseus walked across to Percival, and wrapped his arms around him.

Percival's shoulders shook with emotion. Theseus was sure he was shaking as well, Picquery's words echoing in his head. Theseus embraced him tighter for a few moments, breathing slowly, before he spoke.
"Let's go to our room. Then we can... we can talk."

Percival nodded, letting Theseus guide him back to the rooms that they were staying in. Theseus reached out, and gently squeezed Percival's hand. After a moment, Percival squeezed back, his lips lifting slightly in a smile.

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