Newt will make it to America, I promise- I just wanted to give him a bit of a break to go through his travels first.
------
Since Newt’s travels and itinerary were already approved, his visas, safe conducts, and passport are all valid, albeit shoved by the fistful into his various coat pockets. Still, nobody tries to stop him when he boards the ferry from Dover to Calais. Newt watches Dover recede into the distance with his shoulders hunched against the cold. When he can no longer make out the shore he heads into the cabin and presses his back against a wall in the darkest corner the ferry has to offer.
He’s unable to relax throughout the three-hour trip and spends his time forging new dates on his documents to throw off anyone who knew his schedule. He rushes off the ferry in Calais, going directly to Muggle transport.
Newt takes a train from Calais to Paris, then the Orient Express from Paris to Bucharest. Though he has the money to purchase passage in a private cabin, he takes a shared one in third class. He spells the suitcase with a confundo charm to make sure the Muggles in the cabin don’t notice it and descends into the shack to take in what he has to work with: A bed, a dresser, a chest, a desk, two chairs and two lamps. Basics. He’ll probably have to change things as he travels.
On the desk Newt finds a photograph of a man he’s never seen instead. Frowning, he flips the photo and finds an inscription in his brother’s handwriting.
Percival Graves (with sister Dorothy, taken about 2 years ago). Stay safe.
He can’t quite make himself throw the photograph away, but he chucks it carelessly into a desk drawer and turns to the door at the far end of the shack. It opens into nothing, but Newt’s worked the undetectable expansion charm to respond to his magic since receiving the suitcase. He calms himself by making a garden that he can open the door into.
In Bucharest, he waits a day in case there is some kind of a tracking spell on his suitcase. When nobody appears to drag him back to England, Newt allows himself to relax. He gets his bearings and finds the local wizarding Ministry. The elderly witches and wizards staffing service desks are at least as chatty as any back home- all it takes is the right question to get them talking about legends and local stories, and to point him in the right direction to start his hunt for magical creatures.
Before he heads off for his first destination, he writes a quick note home to say he’s made it safely to his first destination and that the food is fine- which he hadn’t been expecting, but he now knows because the grandmothers he’s met have a strange obsession with feeding people. He sends it from the Rumanian ministry owlery and only after the owl is gone does he remember he didn’t say where he’s going next.
+
Newt’s work technically starts en route from Bucharest to Constantinople- mostly by accident. The train is paused at a rest stop when a woman from a second class car shrieks that her necklace has been stolen and police are called.
Newt spots the niffler right away, just as he spots a rather shady character trying to catch it. Further down the platform, there is a cage with the door hanging open. After a moment Newt realizes that the shady character also has a wand and he watches as the man jabs the wand angrily in the niffler’s direction several times. Each time nothing happens to the niffler and the man swears soundly. It can’t mean anything good for the creature, and Newt readies himself to pounce almost before he realizes he’s decided to take action.
He drops a sickle to the ground at his feet. The clang of the coin on the platform makes the niffler stop in its tracks. Newt bends his knees slightly. He waits, dead still, tracking the other wizard with his eyes. The niffler approaches. Newt snatches it up as soon as it grabs the coin. It struggles, whining, holding the coin tightly in its paws. Newt wraps his coat over it and hushes at it, moving slowly to get somewhere out of the way, where the Muggle police won’t realize what’s happened.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he murmurs, petting the niffler’s soft tummy, “And how are you so far from home, hm?”
The niffler stops squirming and locks eyes with Newt. It looks suspicious.
Newt chuckles softly. “You can keep that, I promise. I just need the necklace back, please. If you don’t give it back there’s going to be trouble. I don’t want you to be hurt.”
“That’s mine!” snaps a gravelly voice. It’s the wizard, and he grabs for the niffler. “Give it back.”
“I assure you, the coin came from my pocket,” Newt says neutrally, dodging the grab.
“The niffler, you berk. I’ll have you arrested for theft.”
Newt smiles pleasantly and holds up his Ministry ID so the wizard can see ‘Scamander’ written there. “Are you quite sure? Do you have a permit to be moving a niffler across borders? Where is his habitat?”
Newt finds himself in possession of the niffler in surprisingly short order.
+
Theseus is not looking forward to his phone call with Percival. He’s got his office muffliato’d and his study door silencio’d, so it should be a very private call. He doesn’t like to think how Percival is going to take the news.
Percival picks up the phone and asks: “How did he take the news of the arrangement?”
Theseus grimaces and is silent as he tries to figure out how to explain what happened without telling Percival that his fiance is so afraid to be married that he signed the contract and ran away, and now they don’t know where he is- Theseus knows his brother well enough to know that he’s changed his itinerary. The only way they’ll find him now is official search party.
He’s been silent too long. Percival’s voice is low and demanding when he speaks again. “You fucked up.”
“I fucked up,” Theseus agrees, sighing heavily.
“What did you do?”
Theseus leans back in his chair and shifts the telephone receiver to his other ear. “I had the marriage contract out on the desk behind me. He saw it before I got to talk to him about you. It threw off the whole meeting. I should have known better- that must have been how father presented his other marriages.”
“And?”
“And...” He scrubs at his face, “I made him sign it. On pain of I would do it for him if he didn’t.”
“Mercy Lewis, Theseus, you said he’d been hurt by his other matches- what did you think forcing him to sign a new contract of marriage would accomplish?”
“I know, I know,” Theseus says quickly, grimacing again, “But, Perce, if the issue of him marrying again winds up in the Ministry’s hands, he will be hurt again, possibly worse than before, because the Ministry doesn’t care. I don’t dare think what might happen to him if that should happen.”
“You explained that to him.”
“Yes, I told him. He heard, but he was so angry. I only just got your photo into his coat before he left.”
“Left?”
“He was scheduled to start his book travels at the end of this week, but he disappeared last night,” Theseus murmurs, “His first stop was Calais, but from there he was supposed to go to Germany and I haven’t heard of his visa being processed there. He could be anywhere by now.”
He can almost hear Percival frown on the other end of the phone. “Will he be safe?”
“He’s worked with dragons,” Theseus says, mouth twisting up, “but I don’t know.”
+
In the mountains between India and Tibet, Newt finds a Demiguise. (Or maybe it’s that a Demiguise finds him.) It takes him a while to realize what it is- even though he can hear and see it from the corner of his eye, the creature disappears every time he tries to see it head on. The old accounts and his research confirm that it must be a Demiguise, which turns invisible when frightened, and he starts to leave food out for it. He takes his own notes as the food is either eaten or left to rot but otherwise leaves it alone.
Three days later the Demiguise comes to Newt while he’s working on a sketch of the niffler (whom he’s taken to calling Hobbs) and climbs onto Newt’s back, snuffling at his hair. Newt stays very still but he smiles and his insides buzz with excitement.
“Hello, there.”
The Demiguise chirps, running fingers through Newt’s curls. He peers down from over the top of Newt’s head and blinks at him. Newt chuckles. The Demiguise almost flips and falls into Newt’s lap at the sound- Newt reaches instinctively to steady the creature.
“Hey now, steady,” he murmurs.
The Demiguise blinks big eyes up at him, then nods. Nods? Newt tilts his head, wondering if he’s just projected onto the animal, but then the Demiguise nods again and this time hugs Newt around his neck. Newt puts his arms gingerly around the creature. The Demiguise’s fur is matted with dried blood and there are extensive bald patches down his back.
“Poor thing,” he says softly, “You need a place to heal. thought you were supposed to be from much farther north than down here- closer to China. Do you need to go back? Would you like to come with me? I have plenty of food. Or I can find it.”
The Demiguise cups Newt's cheek and makes another chirp. Newt takes that as a yes. That night he goes foraging for more of the berries and fruits that the Demiguise seems to favor, collecting them in a tub Transfigured from some bark, and extends the undetectable expansion charm in his suitcase to include a bamboo forest, just to the right of Hobb’s nest.
+
Theseus has the pages of the Daily Prophet’s international section spread out over the floor of the living room as he studies them. Sometimes it’s easier for Theseus to pick information out of a paper when he can see everything at once and read it all three times, and short of sending out every Auror in the Ministry to find Newt, the papers are his only hope. Mother stopped asking him not to clutter the living room three weeks ago.
She stands next to him, face tired and drawn. “Still no word?” she asks.
Theseus shakes his head. He banishes the paper to the bin.
FILL [5/?]: Newt/other, eventual Gramander; arranged marriage, past abuse, h/c, learning to trust
------
Since Newt’s travels and itinerary were already approved, his visas, safe conducts, and passport are all valid, albeit shoved by the fistful into his various coat pockets. Still, nobody tries to stop him when he boards the ferry from Dover to Calais. Newt watches Dover recede into the distance with his shoulders hunched against the cold. When he can no longer make out the shore he heads into the cabin and presses his back against a wall in the darkest corner the ferry has to offer.
He’s unable to relax throughout the three-hour trip and spends his time forging new dates on his documents to throw off anyone who knew his schedule. He rushes off the ferry in Calais, going directly to Muggle transport.
Newt takes a train from Calais to Paris, then the Orient Express from Paris to Bucharest. Though he has the money to purchase passage in a private cabin, he takes a shared one in third class. He spells the suitcase with a confundo charm to make sure the Muggles in the cabin don’t notice it and descends into the shack to take in what he has to work with: A bed, a dresser, a chest, a desk, two chairs and two lamps. Basics. He’ll probably have to change things as he travels.
On the desk Newt finds a photograph of a man he’s never seen instead. Frowning, he flips the photo and finds an inscription in his brother’s handwriting.
Percival Graves (with sister Dorothy, taken about 2 years ago). Stay safe.
“Merlin’s beard, Theseus,” Newt mutters angrily, “You utter plonker.”
He can’t quite make himself throw the photograph away, but he chucks it carelessly into a desk drawer and turns to the door at the far end of the shack. It opens into nothing, but Newt’s worked the undetectable expansion charm to respond to his magic since receiving the suitcase. He calms himself by making a garden that he can open the door into.
In Bucharest, he waits a day in case there is some kind of a tracking spell on his suitcase. When nobody appears to drag him back to England, Newt allows himself to relax. He gets his bearings and finds the local wizarding Ministry. The elderly witches and wizards staffing service desks are at least as chatty as any back home- all it takes is the right question to get them talking about legends and local stories, and to point him in the right direction to start his hunt for magical creatures.
Before he heads off for his first destination, he writes a quick note home to say he’s made it safely to his first destination and that the food is fine- which he hadn’t been expecting, but he now knows because the grandmothers he’s met have a strange obsession with feeding people. He sends it from the Rumanian ministry owlery and only after the owl is gone does he remember he didn’t say where he’s going next.
+
Newt’s work technically starts en route from Bucharest to Constantinople- mostly by accident. The train is paused at a rest stop when a woman from a second class car shrieks that her necklace has been stolen and police are called.
Newt spots the niffler right away, just as he spots a rather shady character trying to catch it. Further down the platform, there is a cage with the door hanging open. After a moment Newt realizes that the shady character also has a wand and he watches as the man jabs the wand angrily in the niffler’s direction several times. Each time nothing happens to the niffler and the man swears soundly. It can’t mean anything good for the creature, and Newt readies himself to pounce almost before he realizes he’s decided to take action.
He drops a sickle to the ground at his feet. The clang of the coin on the platform makes the niffler stop in its tracks. Newt bends his knees slightly. He waits, dead still, tracking the other wizard with his eyes. The niffler approaches. Newt snatches it up as soon as it grabs the coin. It struggles, whining, holding the coin tightly in its paws. Newt wraps his coat over it and hushes at it, moving slowly to get somewhere out of the way, where the Muggle police won’t realize what’s happened.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he murmurs, petting the niffler’s soft tummy, “And how are you so far from home, hm?”
The niffler stops squirming and locks eyes with Newt. It looks suspicious.
Newt chuckles softly. “You can keep that, I promise. I just need the necklace back, please. If you don’t give it back there’s going to be trouble. I don’t want you to be hurt.”
“That’s mine!” snaps a gravelly voice. It’s the wizard, and he grabs for the niffler. “Give it back.”
“I assure you, the coin came from my pocket,” Newt says neutrally, dodging the grab.
“The niffler, you berk. I’ll have you arrested for theft.”
Newt smiles pleasantly and holds up his Ministry ID so the wizard can see ‘Scamander’ written there. “Are you quite sure? Do you have a permit to be moving a niffler across borders? Where is his habitat?”
Newt finds himself in possession of the niffler in surprisingly short order.
+
Theseus is not looking forward to his phone call with Percival. He’s got his office muffliato’d and his study door silencio’d, so it should be a very private call. He doesn’t like to think how Percival is going to take the news.
Percival picks up the phone and asks: “How did he take the news of the arrangement?”
Theseus grimaces and is silent as he tries to figure out how to explain what happened without telling Percival that his fiance is so afraid to be married that he signed the contract and ran away, and now they don’t know where he is- Theseus knows his brother well enough to know that he’s changed his itinerary. The only way they’ll find him now is official search party.
He’s been silent too long. Percival’s voice is low and demanding when he speaks again. “You fucked up.”
“I fucked up,” Theseus agrees, sighing heavily.
“What did you do?”
Theseus leans back in his chair and shifts the telephone receiver to his other ear. “I had the marriage contract out on the desk behind me. He saw it before I got to talk to him about you. It threw off the whole meeting. I should have known better- that must have been how father presented his other marriages.”
“And?”
“And...” He scrubs at his face, “I made him sign it. On pain of I would do it for him if he didn’t.”
“Mercy Lewis, Theseus, you said he’d been hurt by his other matches- what did you think forcing him to sign a new contract of marriage would accomplish?”
“I know, I know,” Theseus says quickly, grimacing again, “But, Perce, if the issue of him marrying again winds up in the Ministry’s hands, he will be hurt again, possibly worse than before, because the Ministry doesn’t care. I don’t dare think what might happen to him if that should happen.”
“You explained that to him.”
“Yes, I told him. He heard, but he was so angry. I only just got your photo into his coat before he left.”
“Left?”
“He was scheduled to start his book travels at the end of this week, but he disappeared last night,” Theseus murmurs, “His first stop was Calais, but from there he was supposed to go to Germany and I haven’t heard of his visa being processed there. He could be anywhere by now.”
He can almost hear Percival frown on the other end of the phone. “Will he be safe?”
“He’s worked with dragons,” Theseus says, mouth twisting up, “but I don’t know.”
+
In the mountains between India and Tibet, Newt finds a Demiguise. (Or maybe it’s that a Demiguise finds him.) It takes him a while to realize what it is- even though he can hear and see it from the corner of his eye, the creature disappears every time he tries to see it head on. The old accounts and his research confirm that it must be a Demiguise, which turns invisible when frightened, and he starts to leave food out for it. He takes his own notes as the food is either eaten or left to rot but otherwise leaves it alone.
Three days later the Demiguise comes to Newt while he’s working on a sketch of the niffler (whom he’s taken to calling Hobbs) and climbs onto Newt’s back, snuffling at his hair. Newt stays very still but he smiles and his insides buzz with excitement.
“Hello, there.”
The Demiguise chirps, running fingers through Newt’s curls. He peers down from over the top of Newt’s head and blinks at him. Newt chuckles. The Demiguise almost flips and falls into Newt’s lap at the sound- Newt reaches instinctively to steady the creature.
“Hey now, steady,” he murmurs.
The Demiguise blinks big eyes up at him, then nods. Nods? Newt tilts his head, wondering if he’s just projected onto the animal, but then the Demiguise nods again and this time hugs Newt around his neck. Newt puts his arms gingerly around the creature. The Demiguise’s fur is matted with dried blood and there are extensive bald patches down his back.
“Poor thing,” he says softly, “You need a place to heal. thought you were supposed to be from much farther north than down here- closer to China. Do you need to go back? Would you like to come with me? I have plenty of food. Or I can find it.”
The Demiguise cups Newt's cheek and makes another chirp. Newt takes that as a yes. That night he goes foraging for more of the berries and fruits that the Demiguise seems to favor, collecting them in a tub Transfigured from some bark, and extends the undetectable expansion charm in his suitcase to include a bamboo forest, just to the right of Hobb’s nest.
+
Theseus has the pages of the Daily Prophet’s international section spread out over the floor of the living room as he studies them. Sometimes it’s easier for Theseus to pick information out of a paper when he can see everything at once and read it all three times, and short of sending out every Auror in the Ministry to find Newt, the papers are his only hope. Mother stopped asking him not to clutter the living room three weeks ago.
She stands next to him, face tired and drawn. “Still no word?” she asks.
Theseus shakes his head. He banishes the paper to the bin.