His pocket watch chimes in his coat, startling him out of his thoughts. He knows without looking that the hands will be travelling over to late. He fumbles for a moment, but, of course, the auror has caught the sound as well.
“Ah, I’ve held you up.” He says, and perhaps Newt is imagining a thread of disappointment in his voice. He holds out Alice, who twists around to stare back at him in betrayal as the petting ends. “I’ll trust your word for the paperwork, but in the future, Mr. Scamander, it would be in your best interests to keep your permits readily available.”
“Newt.” He insists even as he accepts the diricawl and slips her back into his pocket; she settles sulkily with a soft tap on the head. His stomach reacts strangely again at the small smirk and nod of apology that he gets in return, and his mouth runs away with him again. “I could…well, the statement might take a few hours, but I could…bring the paperwork by afterwards, if you needed to look it over.”
What is he doing, really? He honestly doesn’t know.
Percival tips his head again, just slightly, but the rest of his posture is still this time. It is his face that moves, that flickers slightly between one emotion and the next, but Newt has never been good at that. He knows body language, knows creatures – humans and their quick, hidden thoughts and their confusing behaviors and their rules always end up frustrating him.
But then the man smiles at him again, stepping in just slightly closer, and Newt maybe isn’t as good with humans, but he doesn’t think this means anything bad.
“Well, if you insist. I would hate for you to find trouble over mishandled paperwork.” Percival says, something curling warm and low in his voice, stopping Newt’s protest that he’d hardly insisted right off. He feels oddly flushed and a little self-conscious, like they’re now sharing a secret as well as their space. “I’ll be in my office until late tonight, so if you happened to find your way there when your business is finished –”
“I…yes!” Newt is fumbling again, and so he forces his hands to still. “Thank you. I’ll be there.”
He does not mention how he knows the way to the man’s office, the fruitless searches that started there in the days after Grindelwald’s unmasking. This does not seem the time to describe the way Tina’s hope, every auror’s hope, had fallen with every passing day, his own falling with it in sympathy.
He does not mention this new, different hope rising now, the desire to grasp and nurture this rare, barely-there connection. Such things never come out the way he means them to.
Then he strides off, dark robes snapping at his heels. Newt watches him go until Pickett climbs out of his pocket, pulling his attention away by pinching his ear and chirping at him. It sounds distinctly disapproving.
“I know.” He moans, even if he really doesn’t. He has no idea what he’s doing.
But the billywigs quivering in his stomach are not unhappy ones and, as he moves off across the hall, he finds himself smiling once more.
*************************************************************** Slow writer here. This is apparently going to be a 5+1, so it might take a while to finish...It's also posted on AO3 with better formatting here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8855563/chapters/20306392
Fill: 1/6 part 2 (Real!Graves/Newt - Graves is good with animals)
“Ah, I’ve held you up.” He says, and perhaps Newt is imagining a thread of disappointment in his voice. He holds out Alice, who twists around to stare back at him in betrayal as the petting ends. “I’ll trust your word for the paperwork, but in the future, Mr. Scamander, it would be in your best interests to keep your permits readily available.”
“Newt.” He insists even as he accepts the diricawl and slips her back into his pocket; she settles sulkily with a soft tap on the head. His stomach reacts strangely again at the small smirk and nod of apology that he gets in return, and his mouth runs away with him again. “I could…well, the statement might take a few hours, but I could…bring the paperwork by afterwards, if you needed to look it over.”
What is he doing, really? He honestly doesn’t know.
Percival tips his head again, just slightly, but the rest of his posture is still this time. It is his face that moves, that flickers slightly between one emotion and the next, but Newt has never been good at that. He knows body language, knows creatures – humans and their quick, hidden thoughts and their confusing behaviors and their rules always end up frustrating him.
But then the man smiles at him again, stepping in just slightly closer, and Newt maybe isn’t as good with humans, but he doesn’t think this means anything bad.
“Well, if you insist. I would hate for you to find trouble over mishandled paperwork.” Percival says, something curling warm and low in his voice, stopping Newt’s protest that he’d hardly insisted right off. He feels oddly flushed and a little self-conscious, like they’re now sharing a secret as well as their space. “I’ll be in my office until late tonight, so if you happened to find your way there when your business is finished –”
“I…yes!” Newt is fumbling again, and so he forces his hands to still. “Thank you. I’ll be there.”
He does not mention how he knows the way to the man’s office, the fruitless searches that started there in the days after Grindelwald’s unmasking. This does not seem the time to describe the way Tina’s hope, every auror’s hope, had fallen with every passing day, his own falling with it in sympathy.
He does not mention this new, different hope rising now, the desire to grasp and nurture this rare, barely-there connection. Such things never come out the way he means them to.
“Well, then.” Percival says, teeth flashing sharp and pleased. “Until later, Newt.”
Then he strides off, dark robes snapping at his heels. Newt watches him go until Pickett climbs out of his pocket, pulling his attention away by pinching his ear and chirping at him. It sounds distinctly disapproving.
“I know.” He moans, even if he really doesn’t. He has no idea what he’s doing.
But the billywigs quivering in his stomach are not unhappy ones and, as he moves off across the hall, he finds himself smiling once more.
***************************************************************
Slow writer here. This is apparently going to be a 5+1, so it might take a while to finish...It's also posted on AO3 with better formatting here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8855563/chapters/20306392