And lo! A wild Percival appears. Also there is fudging of wizarding laws, because I'm pretty sure JK didn't have wizarding authorities getting involved with marriages in mind when she started writing. (I'm thinking that for all intents and purposes here, the pure-blood obsessed old families are the ones who wrote the laws to make sure magic marries magic.)
------
My dear Percival,
Tales of your exploits continue to reach the shores of England, and the ministry employees in my office are grudgingly impressed. Naturally I tell them that you’ve learned everything from your correspondence with me. (You’re welcome.)
It has been too long since we last spoke. I know I could just call you, but I wanted to put this request down in a letter so you will take time to consider it in full.
You remember my brother, Newton- I know I’ve spoken of him to you. Have I sent you his photograph before? I include one here, if not.
I am looking to make a third marriage for him. (Yes, third. When you call I will explain our laws, assuming that they are different from yours.) I may not have told you of his two previous marriages, as they did not end well and it was hard to speak of. Even now he carries… well, I hesitate to say trauma, since I don’t know everything and he has made great strides in Not Talking About Them, but trauma is the only word I can think of.
Newt is getting ready to take himself on a world tour, so to speak, to begin field research for a book which has been commissioned by one of our esteemed book-sellers. He leaves in a week. My mother is most anxious that he should have someone who will take care of him during this trip. I know that neither you nor I are available to go to him at the drop of a hat, but she will not if I fudge the details, and I think you may be the only man my brother would not be afraid of. (When you call, Perce, promise.)
If you are still lacking a partner, please think on this. I’m available all day the next few days barring an emergency. I will be in my office study at the Ministry.
Yours sincerely, Theseus
(PS: Please let Antigone rest with you before sending her back with your reply. She’s quite friendly and will respond well to a carrot or two if you have some.)
+
Theseus is reading the Daily Prophet at his office desk.
His secretary knocks on the door, an envelope held out to him as she approaches his desk. “Sir, you’ve received a message. Looks like it’s from the DMLE at MACUSA.”
Theseus raises his eyebrows and smiles a little. Must be Percival’s reply. He reaches out to take the envelope from her. “Thank you, Helene. Please let it be known that barring an emergency from Himself, my office is closed to visitors until further notice. Is Antigone safe and resting?”
“Yes, sir. She's in the stable.”
“Excellent. That's all for now.” Theseus goes into his study and glances at the parchment.
The parchment is short and sits in the envelope in front of a photo. Percival glances out at him from the photo, looking tired but smiling faintly. He keeps looking from the camera to his little sister, who holds Percival’s hand in her left and a medal in the other. Theseus recognizes the moment from a story about two years ago- Percival had been awarded something or other to do with finding a ring of kidnapped children.
Only you would send a letter with a Thestral. We have seagull post for international comm. you know. Photo here, incase you need it. Best I had. Call me.
Theseus prepares to do just that. Percival long ago convinced him to invest in a Muggle telephone, and he has to admit the man is right about the contraptions. Experiments with the floo network never turn out particularly well for either fire-calls or full-body transportation across oceans. There is a special branch of wizarding post that is set up to take advantage of Muggle ships, but it’s slow.
With the telephone, Percival and Theseus have a direct line to each other that neither is willing to tell others about. (When attempting to have a Muggle outfit your office with electricity, it helps to be the heads of your respective Auror Offices but it also pays not to let too many people in on the job.)
Theseus picks up the receiver and spells the room with a silence charm. (America wizards worked out some sort of operation that keeps their lines separate from the Muggles, though crossed wires have been known to happen. Apparently Muggles are very good at telling themselves they’ve just misheard something.) He gives the operator the number for Percival’s home in New York.
The phone picks up after one ring. “Theseus.”
“Percival! Good to hear your voice.”
“What's this about your brother?”
“What- you don't want to hear about what I've been up to?” Theseus teases.
“I'm pretty sure I know how your job works,” Percival says. His voice is deep and fond. “Assuming you do half the work I wind up doing. So. Why do you need me to marry your brother?”
“Once a wizard is married,” Theseus starts, and he shakes his head even though Percival can’t see it. “they are expected to stay married; a divorce is allowed for abuse or infidelity, but it’s never to be left as a permanent state. I have full say in who Newt marries, but I love him. The law could get involved if he doesn’t marry, and he’d have no say in what happens to him then.”
“And he’s inclined towards men, I assume, if you’re speaking to me. But he’s afraid, you said.”
Theseus tells Percival everything he knows: the first marriage and how it ended, the war, the second marriage and how it ended, how Newt is still suffering from both of them and how that suffering manifests. He’s pleased to hear Percival making one or two angry exclamations as he relates the story.
“Why me, after all that he’s been through?”
“I think you’d be good for him, as a companion. Newt’s not been focused save when he’s writing, and when he’s writing it takes all his focus. I’ve seen you with hurt children.”
“Your brother isn’t a child.”
“He needs gentle treatment as though he was- he’s still scared to speak before he’s spoken to. And I need someone I know will be reliable, who will have reliable people. Newt’s going to be in places that we don’t have a lot of contact with their wizarding communities, and where the Muggles aren’t friendly towards our Muggles. We can compensate for any lack of physical relations, if you agree to this match, of course. It will be a proper contract.”
“All right.”
“Sorry?”
“I’ll marry your brother. Arrange the contract however you wish and I’ll sign it. Give him a couple years before it needs to take effect so he can write this book without me hanging over him. I don’t need anything except a place to stay near you- I’m not going to keep him away from you year-round. Oh... maybe one of your mother’s best breeds? I hear that hippogriffs are excellent guards.”
Theseus closes his eyes and breathes out a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you, Percival.”
“I hope your brother is okay with it,” Percival says softly, “Do let him know that I won’t require anything of him he’s not willing to give.”
“I will. I’ll send Antigone back to you with the contract tomorrow.”
Percival chuckles, “How you got permission for a Thestral as personal messenger I will never know.”
“Benefits of running my department after a war- nobody was really around to say no. We’ll talk soon?”
“Of course.”
Theseus hangs up the phone and un-spells the room. He pulls out the copies of Newt’s previous marriage contracts. Generally wizards are left to draw up such contracts between themselves unless a barrister is demanded by one side or the other. He trusts Percival to make changes as he deems fit that will not negatively impact Newt.
Now he just has to tell Newt.
+
He has the contract laid out on his desk, as his father would have, because he doesn’t know what else to do. Their mother sits on the settee, hands in her lap. They are clenched tight and betray her nerves. As soon as Newt comes into the study and sees the parchment his eyes grow wide and betrayed. Theseus closes his eyes and swears to himself. This is not the best way to start.
“Newt, please, listen to me,” he says.
“Theseus, how could...” Newt’s voice is strangled. He closes his eyes tightly. “No. I will not... I will not!”
Theseus has to grab for Newt’s wrist before his brother can run from the room. Newt shakes under his grip. He looks at his mother, throat closing up on him. He’s never not been able to talk before- getting people to do what he says is part of his job but this is his brother. He’s never terrified his brother.
“Darling-” their mother says, standing. She comes to Newt from the side and waits until his eyes are open before she takes him by the shoulders and makes soothing little noises as she hugs him. “Darling, listen to your brother. Please. You need a fiancé, if not a husband, if you want to travel freely for your book. You know the law- ”
Newt chokes on a breath and tries to turn away.
“Percival doesn’t want anything from you that you don’t want to give, Newt, I promise you that,” Theseus says, “He’ll only be there to support you, and make sure you’re safe on your travels. He’s my counterpart in America. Bringing up his name to any wizarding law enforcement will-”
“Do I not have your name- my own name- anymore?” Newt snaps.
“His name as your fiancé will be stronger than mine,” Theseus says. He tries to keep his voice neutral but firm, and he pulls Newt gently towards the contract on his desk. “Please, read the contract. Percival really is a good sort. You don’t even have to get married right away- we’ve agreed on a two year engagement so you can write your book in peace. He just wants to help.”
“Because you threw me at him!” Newt shouts. Immediately he bites his lip and looks away from the parchment and Theseus, curling in on himself. There is quiet until he shakes his head firmly. “No. I will not do this. I don’t much care if you think it’s for my own good or not. People can talk all they like- they always have before. I’ve had quite enough of matches and spouses. You- I can’t believe you’d-”
Theseus wraps his arm around Newt’s shoulders and moves so Newt is bracketed between Theseus and their mother. “I know you don't want another marriage now, but I do think you'd get on well with Percival and I think he could help you-”
Newt pulls away from them both. He wraps his arms tightly around himself. “I don't need him, or his help. I don’t need you shunting me off to some unsuspecting American. And if you think-”
“Newt, don’t blame your brother,” their mother interrupts softly, “He’s only doing his duty under our laws, and at my insistence.”
“Our laws don’t seem much to care that they affect people,” Newt says bitterly.
At least he isn't turning his anger on their mother. That’s a hopeful sign, Theseus decides. Their mother wouldn't be able to take Newt’s anger. He might not be the first born or the star of the Scamander family, but he’s always been her favorite.
“Think about it,” he says, “I’ll leave the contract here for you to sign before you leave, okay?”
“I've thought about it," is the brusque reply. "You marry him if you like him so bloody much.”
“Newt!”
Their mother’s voice is admonishing but Newt has gone still with mulish stubbornness.
“I can sign it for you as head of your family,” Theseus says, his voice low, “You know how that will make you seem in the eyes of others. I don't want to do that, but this is negotiated and agreed. I will not allow the law to settle your future for you if I can help it. Don't make me, Newt. Please.”
Newt looks up at his brother, horrified and hurt. His eyes lock with Theseus, pale green studying dark gray in hope of finding an out. He finds only the calm certainty that Theseus will sign the contract if Newt does not, because the laws say he must. Newt swallows back a series of swears. He storms to the desk and scrawls his name in the sloppiest, most bitter handwriting he can coax from the quill.
“There. You may commence selling off my effects.”
His mother and brother are silent as he pushes past to go to his room and Newt already feels guilty.
+
That night, Newt shoves the guilt he feels deep down, burying it under hurt, anger and panic. He runs.
Let them try to find him. Newt has always been very good at going unnoticed.
FILL [4/?]: Newt/other, eventual Gramander; arranged marriage, past abuse, h/c, learning to trust
------
My dear Percival,
Tales of your exploits continue to reach the shores of England, and the ministry employees in my office are grudgingly impressed. Naturally I tell them that you’ve learned everything from your correspondence with me. (You’re welcome.)
It has been too long since we last spoke. I know I could just call you, but I wanted to put this request down in a letter so you will take time to consider it in full.
You remember my brother, Newton- I know I’ve spoken of him to you. Have I sent you his photograph before? I include one here, if not.
I am looking to make a third marriage for him. (Yes, third. When you call I will explain our laws, assuming that they are different from yours.) I may not have told you of his two previous marriages, as they did not end well and it was hard to speak of. Even now he carries… well, I hesitate to say trauma, since I don’t know everything and he has made great strides in Not Talking About Them, but trauma is the only word I can think of.
Newt is getting ready to take himself on a world tour, so to speak, to begin field research for a book which has been commissioned by one of our esteemed book-sellers. He leaves in a week. My mother is most anxious that he should have someone who will take care of him during this trip. I know that neither you nor I are available to go to him at the drop of a hat, but she will not if I fudge the details, and I think you may be the only man my brother would not be afraid of. (When you call, Perce, promise.)
If you are still lacking a partner, please think on this. I’m available all day the next few days barring an emergency. I will be in my office study at the Ministry.
Yours sincerely,
Theseus
(PS: Please let Antigone rest with you before sending her back with your reply. She’s quite friendly and will respond well to a carrot or two if you have some.)
+
Theseus is reading the Daily Prophet at his office desk.
His secretary knocks on the door, an envelope held out to him as she approaches his desk. “Sir, you’ve received a message. Looks like it’s from the DMLE at MACUSA.”
Theseus raises his eyebrows and smiles a little. Must be Percival’s reply. He reaches out to take the envelope from her. “Thank you, Helene. Please let it be known that barring an emergency from Himself, my office is closed to visitors until further notice. Is Antigone safe and resting?”
“Yes, sir. She's in the stable.”
“Excellent. That's all for now.” Theseus goes into his study and glances at the parchment.
The parchment is short and sits in the envelope in front of a photo. Percival glances out at him from the photo, looking tired but smiling faintly. He keeps looking from the camera to his little sister, who holds Percival’s hand in her left and a medal in the other. Theseus recognizes the moment from a story about two years ago- Percival had been awarded something or other to do with finding a ring of kidnapped children.
Only you would send a letter with a Thestral. We have seagull post for international comm. you know. Photo here, incase you need it. Best I had. Call me.
Theseus prepares to do just that. Percival long ago convinced him to invest in a Muggle telephone, and he has to admit the man is right about the contraptions. Experiments with the floo network never turn out particularly well for either fire-calls or full-body transportation across oceans. There is a special branch of wizarding post that is set up to take advantage of Muggle ships, but it’s slow.
With the telephone, Percival and Theseus have a direct line to each other that neither is willing to tell others about. (When attempting to have a Muggle outfit your office with electricity, it helps to be the heads of your respective Auror Offices but it also pays not to let too many people in on the job.)
Theseus picks up the receiver and spells the room with a silence charm. (America wizards worked out some sort of operation that keeps their lines separate from the Muggles, though crossed wires have been known to happen. Apparently Muggles are very good at telling themselves they’ve just misheard something.) He gives the operator the number for Percival’s home in New York.
The phone picks up after one ring. “Theseus.”
“Percival! Good to hear your voice.”
“What's this about your brother?”
“What- you don't want to hear about what I've been up to?” Theseus teases.
“I'm pretty sure I know how your job works,” Percival says. His voice is deep and fond. “Assuming you do half the work I wind up doing. So. Why do you need me to marry your brother?”
“Once a wizard is married,” Theseus starts, and he shakes his head even though Percival can’t see it. “they are expected to stay married; a divorce is allowed for abuse or infidelity, but it’s never to be left as a permanent state. I have full say in who Newt marries, but I love him. The law could get involved if he doesn’t marry, and he’d have no say in what happens to him then.”
“And he’s inclined towards men, I assume, if you’re speaking to me. But he’s afraid, you said.”
Theseus tells Percival everything he knows: the first marriage and how it ended, the war, the second marriage and how it ended, how Newt is still suffering from both of them and how that suffering manifests. He’s pleased to hear Percival making one or two angry exclamations as he relates the story.
“Why me, after all that he’s been through?”
“I think you’d be good for him, as a companion. Newt’s not been focused save when he’s writing, and when he’s writing it takes all his focus. I’ve seen you with hurt children.”
“Your brother isn’t a child.”
“He needs gentle treatment as though he was- he’s still scared to speak before he’s spoken to. And I need someone I know will be reliable, who will have reliable people. Newt’s going to be in places that we don’t have a lot of contact with their wizarding communities, and where the Muggles aren’t friendly towards our Muggles. We can compensate for any lack of physical relations, if you agree to this match, of course. It will be a proper contract.”
“All right.”
“Sorry?”
“I’ll marry your brother. Arrange the contract however you wish and I’ll sign it. Give him a couple years before it needs to take effect so he can write this book without me hanging over him. I don’t need anything except a place to stay near you- I’m not going to keep him away from you year-round. Oh... maybe one of your mother’s best breeds? I hear that hippogriffs are excellent guards.”
Theseus closes his eyes and breathes out a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you, Percival.”
“I hope your brother is okay with it,” Percival says softly, “Do let him know that I won’t require anything of him he’s not willing to give.”
“I will. I’ll send Antigone back to you with the contract tomorrow.”
Percival chuckles, “How you got permission for a Thestral as personal messenger I will never know.”
“Benefits of running my department after a war- nobody was really around to say no. We’ll talk soon?”
“Of course.”
Theseus hangs up the phone and un-spells the room. He pulls out the copies of Newt’s previous marriage contracts. Generally wizards are left to draw up such contracts between themselves unless a barrister is demanded by one side or the other. He trusts Percival to make changes as he deems fit that will not negatively impact Newt.
Now he just has to tell Newt.
+
He has the contract laid out on his desk, as his father would have, because he doesn’t know what else to do. Their mother sits on the settee, hands in her lap. They are clenched tight and betray her nerves. As soon as Newt comes into the study and sees the parchment his eyes grow wide and betrayed. Theseus closes his eyes and swears to himself. This is not the best way to start.
“Newt, please, listen to me,” he says.
“Theseus, how could...” Newt’s voice is strangled. He closes his eyes tightly. “No. I will not... I will not!”
Theseus has to grab for Newt’s wrist before his brother can run from the room. Newt shakes under his grip. He looks at his mother, throat closing up on him. He’s never not been able to talk before- getting people to do what he says is part of his job but this is his brother. He’s never terrified his brother.
“Darling-” their mother says, standing. She comes to Newt from the side and waits until his eyes are open before she takes him by the shoulders and makes soothing little noises as she hugs him. “Darling, listen to your brother. Please. You need a fiancé, if not a husband, if you want to travel freely for your book. You know the law- ”
Newt chokes on a breath and tries to turn away.
“Percival doesn’t want anything from you that you don’t want to give, Newt, I promise you that,” Theseus says, “He’ll only be there to support you, and make sure you’re safe on your travels. He’s my counterpart in America. Bringing up his name to any wizarding law enforcement will-”
“Do I not have your name- my own name- anymore?” Newt snaps.
“His name as your fiancé will be stronger than mine,” Theseus says. He tries to keep his voice neutral but firm, and he pulls Newt gently towards the contract on his desk. “Please, read the contract. Percival really is a good sort. You don’t even have to get married right away- we’ve agreed on a two year engagement so you can write your book in peace. He just wants to help.”
“Because you threw me at him!” Newt shouts. Immediately he bites his lip and looks away from the parchment and Theseus, curling in on himself. There is quiet until he shakes his head firmly. “No. I will not do this. I don’t much care if you think it’s for my own good or not. People can talk all they like- they always have before. I’ve had quite enough of matches and spouses. You- I can’t believe you’d-”
Theseus wraps his arm around Newt’s shoulders and moves so Newt is bracketed between Theseus and their mother. “I know you don't want another marriage now, but I do think you'd get on well with Percival and I think he could help you-”
Newt pulls away from them both. He wraps his arms tightly around himself. “I don't need him, or his help. I don’t need you shunting me off to some unsuspecting American. And if you think-”
“Newt, don’t blame your brother,” their mother interrupts softly, “He’s only doing his duty under our laws, and at my insistence.”
“Our laws don’t seem much to care that they affect people,” Newt says bitterly.
At least he isn't turning his anger on their mother. That’s a hopeful sign, Theseus decides. Their mother wouldn't be able to take Newt’s anger. He might not be the first born or the star of the Scamander family, but he’s always been her favorite.
“Think about it,” he says, “I’ll leave the contract here for you to sign before you leave, okay?”
“I've thought about it," is the brusque reply. "You marry him if you like him so bloody much.”
“Newt!”
Their mother’s voice is admonishing but Newt has gone still with mulish stubbornness.
“I can sign it for you as head of your family,” Theseus says, his voice low, “You know how that will make you seem in the eyes of others. I don't want to do that, but this is negotiated and agreed. I will not allow the law to settle your future for you if I can help it. Don't make me, Newt. Please.”
Newt looks up at his brother, horrified and hurt. His eyes lock with Theseus, pale green studying dark gray in hope of finding an out. He finds only the calm certainty that Theseus will sign the contract if Newt does not, because the laws say he must. Newt swallows back a series of swears. He storms to the desk and scrawls his name in the sloppiest, most bitter handwriting he can coax from the quill.
“There. You may commence selling off my effects.”
His mother and brother are silent as he pushes past to go to his room and Newt already feels guilty.
+
That night, Newt shoves the guilt he feels deep down, burying it under hurt, anger and panic. He runs.
Let them try to find him. Newt has always been very good at going unnoticed.