There was something particularly unfriendly in the edges of Grindelwald’s eyes when he came down that evening, levitating a plate of food in front of him. It was ridiculous to think that – this was a Dark Lord who’d kidnapped him, imprisoned him, stolen his blood and his memories and yet-
Percival swallowed down his nerves and met Grindelwald’s gaze defiantly. He didn’t bother getting to his feet though. He’d end up back on the floor soon enough. He eyed Grindelwald suspiciously. There was nothing of the wizard’s normal tolerant good humour now – instead, there was some deeply personal resentment, overlaid by a smug knowledge that set Percival’s back up.
“You’re later than normal,” Percival said, keeping his voice steady. “Trouble up top?” He hoped so. He hoped his aurors had finally got themselves a damned clue. He hoped Newt had alerted everyone in the entire world. The thought made him clench a hand around his ankle briefly and Grindelwald tracked the movement with narrowed eyes.
“Oh, no trouble,” the man said lightly. “Quite the opposite.” He smiled, slow and rich, and Percival’s eyes were drawn to his lips. They looked almost bruised, puffy and a little swollen. Uncertainty swirled in his stomach.
“Oh?” Percival said casually. “Found your obscurus then?”
“Not yet,” Grindelwald said. “Just a matter of time though, Director, no need to worry.” He set the plate down in front of Percival.
“Believe me, there isn’t an ounce of worry in my body,” Percival drawled and Grindelwald smiled a little tightly.
“That’s a shame Director,” he said. “There really should be.” He flicked his wand deliberately, forcing Percival to his feet in a crucifix position. There was nothing pleasant in the way Grindelwald looked him over deliberately and Percival inhaled sharply as another flick of Grindelwald’s wand had his trouser leg rolling itself up. What was – no, that wasn’t for him to see!
Percival snarled at him, but what would have once prompted mocking laughter from Grindelwald now fetched nothing save a look of deep loathing. The man crouched down to inspect his soul mark – his, his, and Percival struggled impotently against his bonds, feeling somehow more deeply violated by this inspection than by the legilimens intrusion Grindelwald had put him through day after day.
Grindelwald run a light fingertip across the writing and Percival felt like vomiting. That was – that wasn’t for him to touch. He made a noise of protest and then froze at the look Grindelwald directed up at him.
There was a moment of silence and then Grindelwald backed up, smiling tightly. He said nothing as he prepared Percival’s veins for bleeding, his movements precise and practiced now. It barely even hurt as Grindelwald stirred the blood into a steaming vial, turning it into a deceptively bright lilac that he downed in a swift movement.
It seemed as though this would be a swift visit, Grindelwald passing on his usual entertainment of taunting Percival - or gathering facts on anything that had surprised him in the office. A twitch of magic and Percival was sprawling on the ground again, biting back a noise of pain. He ignored it to roll down his trouser leg as fast as possible, wrapping a hand around his mark as if to reassure himself.
Grindelwald let out a sound that someone, somewhere in the world might describe as a laugh. “Protect it while you can, Director,” he said and there was an ugly note in his voice. “Believe me though, I’m dreaming of the day I can be done with you and I can wipe your damned name off my soul mate’s back.”
What – what did that mean? Percival straightening to fire back something defiant – anything, nothing, he couldn’t find the words, but it didn’t matter because Grindelwald had already swept away.
“Newt?” he whispered hesitantly. Grindelwald’s soul mate? He could see in his mind’s eye those swollen lips again, and he wondered. “Newt, baby?” he whispered and found himself more worried than ever for his soul mate.
FILL: Real!Graves/Newt/GrindelGraves - Accidental soulmates - 7/?
Percival swallowed down his nerves and met Grindelwald’s gaze defiantly. He didn’t bother getting to his feet though. He’d end up back on the floor soon enough. He eyed Grindelwald suspiciously. There was nothing of the wizard’s normal tolerant good humour now – instead, there was some deeply personal resentment, overlaid by a smug knowledge that set Percival’s back up.
“You’re later than normal,” Percival said, keeping his voice steady. “Trouble up top?” He hoped so. He hoped his aurors had finally got themselves a damned clue. He hoped Newt had alerted everyone in the entire world. The thought made him clench a hand around his ankle briefly and Grindelwald tracked the movement with narrowed eyes.
“Oh, no trouble,” the man said lightly. “Quite the opposite.” He smiled, slow and rich, and Percival’s eyes were drawn to his lips. They looked almost bruised, puffy and a little swollen. Uncertainty swirled in his stomach.
“Oh?” Percival said casually. “Found your obscurus then?”
“Not yet,” Grindelwald said. “Just a matter of time though, Director, no need to worry.” He set the plate down in front of Percival.
“Believe me, there isn’t an ounce of worry in my body,” Percival drawled and Grindelwald smiled a little tightly.
“That’s a shame Director,” he said. “There really should be.” He flicked his wand deliberately, forcing Percival to his feet in a crucifix position. There was nothing pleasant in the way Grindelwald looked him over deliberately and Percival inhaled sharply as another flick of Grindelwald’s wand had his trouser leg rolling itself up. What was – no, that wasn’t for him to see!
Percival snarled at him, but what would have once prompted mocking laughter from Grindelwald now fetched nothing save a look of deep loathing. The man crouched down to inspect his soul mark – his, his, and Percival struggled impotently against his bonds, feeling somehow more deeply violated by this inspection than by the legilimens intrusion Grindelwald had put him through day after day.
Grindelwald run a light fingertip across the writing and Percival felt like vomiting. That was – that wasn’t for him to touch. He made a noise of protest and then froze at the look Grindelwald directed up at him.
There was a moment of silence and then Grindelwald backed up, smiling tightly. He said nothing as he prepared Percival’s veins for bleeding, his movements precise and practiced now. It barely even hurt as Grindelwald stirred the blood into a steaming vial, turning it into a deceptively bright lilac that he downed in a swift movement.
It seemed as though this would be a swift visit, Grindelwald passing on his usual entertainment of taunting Percival - or gathering facts on anything that had surprised him in the office. A twitch of magic and Percival was sprawling on the ground again, biting back a noise of pain. He ignored it to roll down his trouser leg as fast as possible, wrapping a hand around his mark as if to reassure himself.
Grindelwald let out a sound that someone, somewhere in the world might describe as a laugh. “Protect it while you can, Director,” he said and there was an ugly note in his voice. “Believe me though, I’m dreaming of the day I can be done with you and I can wipe your damned name off my soul mate’s back.”
What – what did that mean? Percival straightening to fire back something defiant – anything, nothing, he couldn’t find the words, but it didn’t matter because Grindelwald had already swept away.
“Newt?” he whispered hesitantly. Grindelwald’s soul mate? He could see in his mind’s eye those swollen lips again, and he wondered. “Newt, baby?” he whispered and found himself more worried than ever for his soul mate.