Prompt Post #1

[fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme]

 ROUND 1

FUCK IT WE'LL FIGURE OUT SPECIFICS LATER

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Re: Fill: How Strange the Brave 3b/?

[(Anonymous)]

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***

He shouldn’t have snapped at the girl.

She was only a shy fourth year-probably taking days to build herself up to talking to the infamous, imposing Percival Graves. And he- oh Merlin.

“No!” He had said, quiet but sharp and biting, eyes narrowed and superior, “No, why would I want to go to the ball with any of you? You’ve never even spoken to me before. Just leave me alone!”

Well, any remaining admirers he had would probably hate him after seeing the poor girl run off in tears. Perhaps he should just give the Yule Ball, and any social interaction, a miss until the third tasks, where he would hopefully croak it. It sounded a fantastic plan at the moment.

With a groan he came to a stop and put his head in his hands.

He was sick of fucking Britain.

Apologies would come later, for now he wanted to wallow. He hadn’t seen or heard about the Scamander’s since the second tasks. Any mutual friends just shrugged when he asked.

It hurt, how suddenly, how carelessly this part of himself had been ripped out of him. The shape of Newt’s smiles and Theseus’ laughs had been torn out from his heart, and it was currently bleeding so freely it felt like he might die before it healed.

He wanted, so desperately, to return to the forest and shake himself into lying, to be a quicker thinker so the truth hadn’t spilled out and ruined it all.

He could have gone on, for hours, prodding and interrogating the fresh wound, but a commotion caught his attention and yanked him from his musings.

Percival had managed to wander to the edge of the Forbidden Forest almost blindly; he suspected the Drumstrang students huddled in a circle had come with a purpose. He looked over, recognising some of them as former tormentors of Newt.

He also recognised the chirping, panicked noises coming from the centre of their gathering.

Without a second thought, he rushed over pushing his way to the middle amidst protests.

Newt would not be happy about this- Percival was pretty pissed by it, in all honesty.

There, being harassed by a particularly mangy looking cat, was Pickett, frantically running from curious paws and being kicked back by large boots whenever he strayed too far.

Immediately, Percival reached down to rescue the little Bowtruckle, only to be yanked back by one of the spectators.

“Leave it!” He said, amusement from watching the smaller creature struggle laced in his voice, “we’re just having some fun with the tiny twig.”

“Fun?” Percival snarled “That’s not your Bowtruckle to play with! It’s Newt’s!”

The other boy snorted. “We’re borrowing, yes? He can get it back if the cat doesn’t first.”

Percival shoved at the boy, hard. He stumbled a few steps, just enough to break the circle.

Pickett was quick to seize the opportunity.

With surprising speed for his size, the Bowtruckle dashed out- straight to the forest. Percival, forgetting all about the other boy, quickly followed, calling out the creature's name.

The gathered students laughed. “Crazy American-you won’t get out of there this time!”

Percival hardly heard them, already in the quiet grasp of the sometimes-forbidden forest.

***


In hindsight, running into the Forbidden Forest in the burning dark evening to search for a twig-like creature was not a great plan.

But then, he could hardly have left Pickett here all by himself and hope he woukd find his way back.

With a sigh, Percival once again turned in a circle, analysing the ground and surroundings in hopes of a sign.

“Pickett? Come on, I need to get you back to Newt.” He said, voice hushed. He had started out shouting the creature's name at the top of his lungs in the hopes of being heard, only to find the forest was far less still and silent at night.

A champion was always brave-but that didn’t mean they had to be stupid either.

Still, no response of any kind came. He had set himself yet another impossible task, but he could hardly turn away now.

He barely took another step when he heard it.

A rumbling noise, deep, rough and coming just a few feet ahead.

Percival froze, eyes snapping to the source of the noise.

The hungry sounding noise.

For a few long, stretching moments, the scene stood still. Percival kept his gaze trained on the darkness ahead and the creature made no moves.

A slight shift in the shadows, and Percival turned and ran.

The creature, four legged from the way the branches broke under it’s gallop, tore after him, easily matching his speed.

Dont look back dont look back Merlin why does this school keep trying to kill me

Every stumble, every slight trip, sent a shock of panic through Percival’s spine and choked him with fear. The beast was still following him.

He was going to die, looking for a Bowtruckle, in bloody Scotland.

It was inevitable, really, when his foot caught on one of the many twisting roots and he flew through the air, landing in a tangle down a muddy bank. Within seconds of the crash his hands came up and his feet started to scramble for traction against the ground.

But the thundering steps had already reached him.

Percival didn’t think of himself as a coward- in all honesty he thought himself to be very valiant. Often, he and Theseus and postured about their future ambitions as Aurors, of all the noble and heroic battles they’d fight, whilst Newt guffawed at them.

But right now, he laid on the forest floor, eyes screwed shut and shaking, because he couldn’t bear to have his last sight be...whatever it was now rumbling too close to him.

He felt the vibrations on the ground before he ever heard the stampede of hooves approaching.

The creature behind him squealed, high pitched and shocking compared to it’s bass-like noises previously, and took off in the opposite direction, Percival completely forgotten.

He still lay on the ground, frozen, until a hand came into his vision.

“And I thought you a wise champion, Percival Graves. Why have you come back to the forest so late?”

Percival reached out and took the offered hand, pulled to his feet he came face to face with Firenze again.

“Firenze,” he greeted the centaur, “Thank you, I...the thing following me.”

“Is of no concern now.” the centaur assured him, “But you haven’t answered me: Why are you back in the forest? Surely it’s not another challenge for the champions- the Hogwarts boy makes so much noise we would know if he came back.”

Percival chuckled despite himself.

“Yeah, Theseus likes to announce himself.” He paused, “I came looking for a Bowtruckle that ran in here. He’s Newt’s friend, and I don’t want to leave him alone in here all night…”

“Newt’s friend- Ah! You mean the leaf like creature?”

Percival nodded.

“You’re in luck, Master Graves.” Firenze said, hand held out, and there, quite happily sprawled along the back of his hand, was Pickett. “He apparently remembers us from young Newt’s visits, and found us shortly after entering the forest.”

Pickett blew a raspberry at Percival, and he almost collapsed in relief.

“Firenze! I can’t thank you enough, I really can’t. All you’ve done for me…”

Firenze gave him a small, beatific smile.

“It is no trouble, Percival Graves. I feel bravery such as yours should see some reward. Now, shall we take the leaf creature back to his friend?”

Centaurs, Percival decided, were desperately needed in the school grounds at Illvermony.

***

Percival came back to the castle just over two hours after having fled from the latest “proposal”. With Pickett safely huddled in his collar, he made his way to the Hufflepuff dormitory. Despite Firenze’s words, he wasn’t brave enough to try reach out to Theseus yet.

Soon though, he would have to try. No matter how much the rejection ached now, how much it might sting for it to dealt again, he couldn’t face himself everyday if he never tried.

He managed to collar a second year on his way, passing Pickett along with strict instructions to ensure he made it safely to Newt Scamander, or He Would Know.

He made it to his own bed around midnight, marking the 18th day of his Scamanderless life.
***



Wow, there’s a lot of Theseus popping up in this to say it’s a gramander fic. Not to worry, next update is when the fun begins! Thank you for your patience and all your lovely comments!

Re: Fill: How Strange the Brave 3b/?

[(Anonymous)]

Absolutely love this, glad that Pickett was saved, and some lovely description, looking forwards to next time!