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fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme) wrote2016-11-23 07:27 am
fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme) wrote2016-11-23 07:27 am
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Prompt Post #1
ROUND 1
FUCK IT WE'LL FIGURE OUT SPECIFICS LATER
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Graves/Newt - Soulmarks
(Anonymous) 2016-11-27 11:10 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Graves/Newt - Soulmarks
(Anonymous) 2016-11-28 01:01 pm (UTC)(link)GIVE IT TO ME NOW!!!
Re: Graves/Newt - Soulmarks
(Anonymous) 2016-12-07 06:37 pm (UTC)(link)FILL: Graves/Newt - Soulmarks [1/?]
(Anonymous) 2016-12-27 04:14 pm (UTC)(link)------
Newton Artemis Fido Scamander couldn’t remember a day in his life when he didn’t have the name Percival Graves written in neat but sprawling script on the inside of his wrist- the signature of a man who spent hours practicing penmanship. As a boy Newt spent hours upon hours staring his wrist. He’d trace the lettering, fancying that maybe Percival Graves could feel the feather-light touch on his own skin, right where Newt’s name should be. (He hoped Percival didn’t have his full name. That would just be embarrassing.)
Percival’s was the second name Newt learned to say after Theseus’s, even when he still thought his parents were named ‘mum’ and ‘dad’. Once he learned it (he’d badgered his mother until she finally read it out to him; the name of a soulmate was supposed to be private, but his family had never kept to the same rules as anyone else.) he would sound out Percival’s name and try to imagine what Percival would be like when they met.
Newt imagined Percival as tall and he’d probably be very proper and correct in his behavior- he couldn’t imagine a Percival who wasn’t proper or maybe even distant. (Though as far as Newt was concerned pretty much all humans were distant- none of them ever wanted to communicate directly the way animals did.) But if they were meant for each other, Newt knew they’d manage. As long as Percival let Newt call him Percy, had a soft smile he’d turn fondly on Newt when they were in private, and liked animals, everything would be fine.
The summer before Hogwarts Newt spent ages practicing how to introduce himself to his soulmate, because surely they were going to meet at school and he was so bad at talking to humans for the most part. He wanted to be ready.
Newt waited impatiently as the Sorting Hat worked its way through the G’s, but it never called for Percival Graves. He later found out that there had never been a Percival Graves who’d attended Hogwarts; and throughout seven years of schooling a Percival Graves never came.
------
New York's downtown skyline towered ominously, Newt decided, and by the time he was ready to move on he would likely have permanent crick from all the looking up he was doing. The people bustling by him in all directions hardly seemed to notice unless it was to offer dirty looks because of his dawdling. Newt supposed growing up in such a city made one used to it. No matter, he just needed to find the train station so he could be on his way to Arizona and leave all the steel grey pillars behind…
Which station he supposed to leave from, again?
Newt stopped where he stood and rifled in his pockets for his map and written directions he'd been given by the muggle travel agent he'd visited in London before getting on the steamship. The travel agent’s directions said Pennsylvania Station. Right. (The problem with an undetectable expanding charmed suitcase full of creatures was that it was very hard to keep it all stable during Portkey travel and he wouldn’t dare try to Apparate with it over a long distance. Newt was not about to put his creatures in that sort of danger.)
The map told him the Woolworth building was on the way towards Pennsylvania Station if he wanted to try and meet his soulmate before moving on from New York.
Newt just wasn’t entirely sure that attempting to meet with Percival was quite what he should do.
It was getting harder to be on his own as more years went by, but he’d gone 29 years without meeting Percival Graves and his soulmate seemed content to keep him waiting. Percival was the one with the important and respected position, so Newt had always figured it wasn’t his place to try to push for them to meet. Percival had never tried to get in touch with Newt despite Theseus speaking of him during their friendship and frequent contact, so maybe… maybe he didn’t want Newt for a soulmate.
It wasn’t like Newt’s work with magical creatures was something wizarding society valued much- not like an appointment as the Director of Magical Security of MACUSA. Maybe Percival was content that his magizoologist soulmate was a constant wanderer because it meant that Newt wasn’t around to embarrass him.
Even while Newt debated with himself about whether or not he should try to meet Percival, his feet took him up Broadway towards the Woolworth building.
He twisted the cuff that hid Percival’s name from the world around his wrist absently. His skin was burning. It had done that several times over the last four months, or sometimes it went cold. Newt dug his fingers under the cuff and tried to soothe the burning skin. He’d been trying to understand it, but still had no idea why- neither his brother nor his parents had ever heard of anything like it and there wasn’t exactly a wealth of information on soulmate marks because people insisted on keeping everything private.
It made him nervous. It was one thing to have gone so many years without knowing what his soulmate would be like, but to have the writing on his wrist doing things his family had never heard of... what did that mean for Percival?
Newt was still trying to make up his mind as to what his course of action would be, so naturally his course of action wound up decided for him. He would have to be passing by a bank of all places when at the same time that a bloody muggle decided he was interesting enough to stop.
“You! Friend! Are you a seeker of the truth?”
“I’m… more of a chaser, really.”
(He thought it was really quite rude of the American witch Goldstein to treat Newt as though he was some sort of criminal- he’d gotten the Niffler to give back everything she’d stolen. Was it really Newt’s fault if getting through small spaces and security measures was a Niffler’s main evolutionary feature?)
------
If nothing else, Percival Graves was… extraordinarily handsome.
Newt had seen several photographs of Percival either through Theseus or in the newspapers over the years. But photographs, even moving ones, couldn’t capture the powerful air that commanded respect, or the intense gleam of his dark eyes, or the way he prowled silently like a giant cat on the hunt.
Newt kept his eyes down on the floor as much as possible. It looked like he would be meeting his soulmate after all- and while it wasn't the best of circumstances they'd be introduced under, they'd have to do. Even so, he couldn’t help but dart glances at Percival while Goldstein tried to make herself heard by a President who clearly had no time for her.
Percival looked back and forth between him and Goldstein several times and each time those dark eyes landed on him Newt’s chest swelled with hope. Each time Percival gave no indication of knowing who Newt was. To Goldstein he only showed a vague, condescending sort of amusement as Picquery sent Goldstein packing. It sent a shiver of unease up Newt’s spine.
When Goldstein finally gave in and dragged Newt out of the meeting room, and Newt went willingly enough. He needed time to recoup.
Goldstein set his suitcase on her desk in what must have been the darkest corner MACUSA had of offer. She began to rifle through wand permit papers, saying something he should probably be paying attention to. His attention kept wandering because he knew that his soulmate was somewhere over his head. His wrist burned. Newt wandered away from Tina at her desk, trying to ignore it. When it persisted he shoved a finger under his cuff, rubbing his skin.
“Somethin’ wrong?” Goldstein asked suddenly. She nodded at Newt’s hand. “That can’t mean anything good.”
“Hm? Oh, ah. No, no,” Newt said, “Nothing wrong. Not really. Habit, I suppose.”
Goldstein didn’t look like she believed him. Newt yanked his fingers out from under the cuff and forced his hands to stay at his sides. (He itched to have his suitcase in hand again- he’d hardly had a chance to check on them since the steamship.) The last thing he needed to do was tell Goldstein that his soulmate was her old boss before he’d even had a chance to talk to Percival face to face.
If he even should talk to Percival face to face. Something was so very wrong- maybe it was just how Americans were, but based on what he’d heard from his parents Newt was sure that Percival should have at least shown a glimmer of recognition when they’d been in the same room.
“You leave your mate somewhere? That what’s going on?” Goldstein asked.
“No, not that I’m aware of. We haven’t met yet, you see,” Newt darted a glance up at Goldstein and then looked back down at his hands. “Anyway it’s my first time in America.”
Goldstein looked up, surprised. Her hands paused on the papers she’d been shuffling. “Your mate is American?”
Newt nodded.
“How do you-”
“Goldstein.”
The witch cut herself off, gulped and looked around frantically. Then, seeing as they were in a corner with no escape, she threw herself under the desk. Newt swallowed thickly and stepped back into the shadows slowly, trying to make himself disappear. Even having heard it once, he knew that voice like he knew his own.
Percival approached Goldstein’s desk with barely a glance in Newt’s direction. Newt bit his lip and tried to ignore the stinging in his chest. Percival stopped at the corner of the desk and stared down as though he could see through the wood.
“Goldstein, I know you’re under there.”
Goldstein poked her head up with a smile not even Newt’s father would have accepted as real, and Newt’s father was very forgiving. “Oh, Mr. Graves.”
Newt forced himself to stay back, giving them distance to talk, despite everything in his being longing to be close to the one person who was supposed to help him be complete. But he couldn’t approach his soulmate like this. Not when the skin under his cuff was still burning. Unless… Maybe- maybe if they touched it would go away?
He had just gotten himself ready to approach when he realized Goldstein was opening his suitcase and his breath caught in his throat. Even if it was still under muggle-worthy what if they discovered the undetecable expanding charms? Surely the director of magical security would look for those first? Newt hurried up to them, standing between Percival and Goldstein, already reaching for his wand, ready to protect his- why was his suitcase full of pastries?
Percival said nothing. He shifted his weight back and reached for the pocket watch in his vest pocket, clearly making himself ready to leave. He turned right back into Newt, right as Newt was reaching towards the pastries in disbelief. Their hands brushed. Percival left with a tiny smile and a shake of his head.
Newt spun to watch Percival walk away. He frowned deeply and wrapped his arms tightly around himself, trying to ignore the cold that had settled in his blood.
He’d touched his soulmate.
He’d felt nothing.
Re: FILL: Graves/Newt - Soulmarks [1/?]
(Anonymous) 2016-12-27 04:22 pm (UTC)(link)Oh, does Grindelwald know that Newt is Percival's soulmate? Hmmmm, it wouldn't be too smart of him to let them touch then, right?
I can't wait for the next part, Anon :)
Re: FILL: Graves/Newt - Soulmarks [1/?]
(Anonymous) 2016-12-27 09:08 pm (UTC)(link)FILL: Graves/Newt - Soulmarks [2/?]
(Anonymous) 2016-12-28 08:27 pm (UTC)(link)------
Almost as soon as Percival disappeared down into the depths of MACUSA, Goldstein grabbed Newt’s arm and began to lead him back towards the Woolworth building entrance. Newt almost grabbed for the suitcase of pastries out of habit- not having the comforting weight of it in hand was nearly as discomfiting as Percival’s lack of recognition.
“Come on, faster! We have to find the no-maj with your suitcase before he opens it and breaks the Statute of Secrecy more than you’ve already done!” she hissed. “Did you get his name? Oh- or do you have some way to track the case?”
Goldstein had quite good instincts, Newt thought. He was somewhat impressed with her in spite of himself- he would have preferred she’d not drag him from where he’d been minding his business, but he supposed she was following habit. She must have been an Auror at some point, though he couldn’t figure why she’d been demoted to working registry if she had been so maybe she was just starting at MACUSA?
“Scamander. A tracker? On the case?”
Right. No time for speculation. “Yes- as soon as we can Apparate-”
Goldstein didn’t seem to need clarification. “Why were you staring at Mr. Graves like that back there?”
Newt’s hand went to his cuff. His wrist was still cold under the thick leather and when he stuck his fingers under the cuff it was to try and impart warmth there. He supposed the new cold was a little better than the previous burning, though the sensation felt deeper than his skin in a way the burning hadn’t. If he cast a warming charm, would that help? Why hadn’t he and Percival connected? Did the cold mean that Percival didn’t have Newt’s name? (Wouldn’t that be the cruelest irony of Newt’s life?)
No time.
“Wait, that’s- you mean Mr. Graves and... you? Really?” Goldstein murmured, eyes wide and astonished. She bit her lip. “Sorry. Private. I shouldn’t ask.”
Newt shrugged his agreement regardless. “I have his name. Something’s wrong, though. I didn’t feel anything when we touched and- well, he doesn’t seem to know me. Has something happened recently?”
Goldstein flushed, but neither he nor Goldstein had had much time to dwell on whether or not Newt had committed a breach of etiquette and Goldstein didn’t have a chance to tell him about Percival. They reached the nearest Apparition point to the Woolworth building and ducked into the dimmed doorway. Newt focused his suitcase, and grabbed Goldstein to side-along Apparate with her.
------
They Apparated to what was, kindly putting it, a scene of destruction; what had been an apartment building was now standing precariously with several massive holes in the walls. Newt could still feel his suitcase in the vicinity, but he knew something was wrong. It was almost a relief- something tangibly and visibly wrong he could fix. Newt waved his wand at various piles of rubble absently as he raced up the stairs to his suitcase, coaxing them back into their proper place.
“You can’t-! Stop that!” Goldstein hissed, “The Statute!”
Newt ignored her. The Statute was silly, so far as he was concerned, and they had no time to worry about that, anyway. He all but fell into the muggle’s apartment. His suitcase was lying haphazardly on the bed; the muggle was lying on the floor. Newt grabbed for his suitcase (thank Merlin it had been in the care of a muggle, since he’d spelled it to return to Theseus only if unfamiliar magic was used on the suitcase to try and get in). He sighed inwardly. The locks were undone.
Goldstein was right on his heels. “Was it open?”
“... Just a smidge,” Newt allowed.
She didn’t look very impressed. Newt was spared further questions when she noticed the muggle and threw herself over him, patting at his clothes ineffectively. “His neck’s bleeding- he’s hurt.”
Newt looked from side to side as though the newly repaired walls of Jacob’s apartment could offer him escape and then pursed his lips at Goldstein’s back. Such fuss. It was just a murtlap bite and there weren’t any flames coming out of the man’s backside, which meant it was easy enough to fix if Newt could get a moment alone with him.
Then again, maybe Goldstein would be busy enough fretting over the bite and how the muggle should have been Obliviated at the bank and now he’d have to be even more Obliviated that she’d forget Percival was his soulmate.
“If there are symptoms they’ll last forty-eight hours at most!” Newt finally said. “I can keep him if you want me to-”
“Keep him?” Goldstein snapped. “We don’t keep them! Don’t you know anything about the wizarding community in America?”
“I do know a few things, actually. I know you have rather backwards laws about relations with non-magic people. That you're not meant to befriend them, that you can't marry them, which seems mildly absurd to me- what if your soulmate is a muggle?”
He’d frustrated her, if the little growl under her breath was anything to go by, but In the end Goldstein decided Mr. Kowalski would have to be brought with them to her apartment in order to fix him. Luckily it appeared that she didn’t live all that far away.
The three snuck up the stairs and had Mr. Kowalski sit down.
Then Goldstein’s sister Queenie spoke and Newt immediately tried to get away, swearing inwardly as he was caught at the door. Queenie was lovely, but a natural born legilimens with talent like hers was fairly unusual. (Newt was somewhat surprised that she hadn’t been picked up for a case study in legilimens and several textbooks written about her.) Whether or not she really had trouble reading accented thoughts, Newt knew that he would have been all but shouting his confusion at her.
He didn’t need another person knowing his soulmate’s name, let alone about his wrist or their lack of connection. What would they be able to do about it, anyway?
Newt had Mr. Kowalski join him down in the suitcase as soon as they were alone in the guest bedroom so he could to give Mr. Kowalski treatment for the murtlap bite.
Then Newt introduced him to his creatures so he could make sure they were all settled and fed after the longest separation they’d had for a long time. He also took a tally of which creatures had gone missing- the Niffler was definitely still out there, and Dougal was likely gone given his restlessness back on the boat.
Still, watching Mr. Kowalski with his creatures was perhaps the best time he’d had since he’d walked off the ship at New York harbor. Newt even managed to forget about the chill in his skin for a time.
“How do wizards work?” Mr. Kowalski asked while feeding the Mooncalves, “Do you all keep creatures like this?”
“No,” Newt said, looking around his home and the various habitats he’d created in it. “Some have kneazles for pets, but most other wizards think what I do is meaningless and bonkers. They don’t think magical creatures should be protected, just used for their parts.” He shrugged. “Most other wizards don’t even know about half the creatures I know about.”
“No? I can’t imagine why not,” Mr. Kowalski said, scratching his head and looking around, “This is incredible.”
Newt smiled a little.
Later, while they were out looking for his missing Erumpent in the Central Park Zoo and Newt could pretend that the cold in him was just because of the night air in winter, and that he could forget about Percival if he really tried, Mr. Kowalski brought him to a near dead stop.
“So, what about soulmates? Do all wizards have one? You do, don't ya?”
Newt felt like the breath had been kicked out of him. Being reminded of a missed connection to a man who was meant to be his soulmate was not exactly what he needed. He turned a questioning gaze on his new friend.
“You've been playing with that cuff all evening. Have you met yet?”
“Do I look so young?” Newt asked, keeping his voice light, hoping he'd not given away his panic. It seemed like anytime someone asked about Percival the cold got worse. It had certainly spread up his arm.
“Well, no, I guess not but you don't look so old either,” Mr. Kowalski said. “It's the hair, maybe.”
Newt huffed a laugh. He yanked a helmet out of his suitcase. “Here. Put this on.”
Re: FILL: Graves/Newt - Soulmarks [2/?]
(Anonymous) 2016-12-29 05:43 pm (UTC)(link)FILL: Graves/Newt - Soulmarks [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2017-01-01 05:47 am (UTC)(link)------
Newt had, perhaps, allowed himself to become a little too invested in distracting himself- though to be fair he relied mostly on Frank and Dougal to warn him about imminent dangers or other immediate threats. Dougal was still missing, and Goldstein was not exactly a danger. Still, had he not been so desperate to forget about Percival and the cold in his blood he would never have allowed her near enough to grab his suitcase at all; let alone with him and a visitor inside it.
Unfortunately she’d refrained from using magic on the case so they weren’t being spelled back to Theseus. Newt stared up at the dark hole in the ceiling of his shack that was the lid of his suitcase, frowning.
“Who’s taking us to- where are we going?” Jacob asked.
“Most probably Tina Goldstein taking us back to the Magical Congress of the United States of America,” Newt said, reluctantly. He sat down on the shack steps and motioned for Jacob to join him. “Generally speaking the magic communities of the world keep themselves hidden from non-magical sight, though each country has their own version of keeping themselves secret. Your American magical community has a somewhat ridiculous obsession with it.”
Jacob frowned and looked at Newt. “What does that mean for me?”
“They’ll Obliviate you- take away your memories.”
“My memories? All of them?” Jacob squeaked.
“No, no, of course not,” Newt said hurriedly. “Sorry, I should have been clearer. No, they can’t take away all your memories, that would be awfully irresponsible. No, they’ll just take away your memories of magic. Of me and my creatures.”
Jacob frowned, looking around at the habitats lodged within the suitcase. “... I don’t much like the sound of that, either.”
Newt darted a sideways glance at his new friend. He smiled a little, and tried not to show his worry. Whatever happened, it was certainly Newt’s own fault. He should never have dragged Jacob, a muggle, into a society and a situation that Jacob didn’t have the knowledge or preparation to deal with. He should have simply treated the murtlap bite and let Tina Obliviate Jacob. But it was so rare that anyone looked at his creatures sans the disdain that most wizards did.
“It’ll be okay,” Newt said, hoping he sounded comforting. “It’s not like they’re going to jail you. I think. I mean, they wouldn’t back home.”
Jacob snorted a laugh at him. “Well that’s comforting.”
Newt grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. Shall we check on everyone while we wait? I don’t know how long it’s going to be until I get another chance.”
Jacob agreed and they began another set of rounds- probably as much to take his own mind off their predicament and the unknown that lay ahead. They were returning to the shack when knocking on the suitcase lid rumbled down at them. They looked at each other.
“I’ll go first,” Newt said.
Jacob smiled weakly.
Newt took a deep breath and swore to himself as he opened his suitcase and climbed reluctantly from his home and into the cold grey of the Pentagram Office. Theseus had been here several times in his duties to the Ministry; Newt remembered his descriptions of it. Percival stared at Newt coldly from his seat near President Picquery, who was clearly presiding over the meeting. Again there was no recognition.
Newt forced himself not to reach for his cuff. At the very least maybe he could keep that to himself.
“Scamander?” asked a very familiar voice.
Newt closed the case and looked in the direction of the incredulous voice, wincing. “Um. Hello, Minister.”
“Theseus Scamander? The war hero?” asked another of the delegation.
Newt winced again. He was in trouble. This was going to get back to his brother and it was going to make his life less than easy for a very long time.
“No,” said the Minister. “His younger brother. And what are you doing in New York?”
“I came to buy an Appaloosa Puffskein, Minister,” Newt said, dutifully.
He looked back at Tina briefly, frowning. She looked back somewhat guiltily, but also stubbornly determined that she had done the right thing. Newt supposed he couldn't fault her too much. Technically Newt had broken the Statute they prized so much several times over.
“And what are you really doing here?” asked the minister.
“Goldstein, who is this?” Picquery interrupted, motioning at Jacob.
“Jacob Kowalski, Madam President. He’s a no-maj. He was bitten by one of Mr. Scamander’s creatures.”
Newt looked up at the transparent image floating by the ceiling that the meeting had clearly been congregated for. A dead man, obviously. A muggle, if so many wizarding communities were involved. He stepped closer for a better look and brought his hand automatically to his mouth to cover it politely as it dropped open.
“Merlin’s beard…”
“You know which of your creatures is responsible for this?” asked a woman from the Chinese delegation.
Newt shook his head. “No creature could have done this. Don’t pretend! Surely you know better; look at the marks. This was done by an Obscurus.”
“You go too far attempting to shift blame,” President Picquery said sharply. “There is no Obscurial in America, Mr. Scamander. Impound that case, Graves.”
Newt turned his desperation on Graves immediately. “No! Don’t!”
If Newt thought that the lack of recognition from Percival or the cold that had numbed him since their pathetic excuse for a first touch was the biggest hurt he would receive in New York, it was nothing compared to Percival summoning his case and taking his wand without so much as a nod of acknowledgement.
“Arrest them,” Picquery snapped.
Newt was vaguely aware of being forced to his knees, and of Jacob and Tina being forced down beside him. He didn’t care. He tried to lean forward, to reach out to his soulmate, to force Percival to know Newt.
“No-no don’t hurt those creatures! Don’t hurt my creatures! There’s nothing in there that’s dangerous, I promise.”
“We’ll be the judge of that,” Picquery said coolly, “Bring them to the cells.”
The British delegation immediately erupted into protests- Newt could hear them shouting about British citizens regardless of their madcap hobbies- but what happened to him hardly mattered because nobody would be looking to take care of his creatures; they’d only kill them and they’d be lost and there would be no more graphorns and Frank would never go back to Arizona-
“Don’t hurt my creatures! Please don’t hurt my creatures! They’re not dangerous- please don’t hurt my creatures!”
The Aurors in charge of bringing them to the cells were, in the end, rather gentle in doing their jobs. None of them threatened Newt with silencing spells- and anyway he ran out of power to scream shortly after they were pulled out of sight of the Pentagram Office. They were careful as they guided their prisoners into the cell and closed the door behind them.
Newt slid to the floor and leaned against the bars of the cell, curling up into himself. He covered his head with hands.
“I’m… I’m sorry, Newt,” said Tina. She sounded tearful. “I’m so sorry about your creatures.”
Newt bit back a rude response. She hadn’t known it was going to end like this, true, but Newt couldn’t quite help the resentment bubbling in his chest. Everything was just too confused. Surely jailing him as they had would mean international law would have to get involved. That could mean being down here for days, or weeks. (Or Theseus would come storming in and threaten to bring the building down, which would just be embarrassing.)
“Can someone tell me what’s going on? What’s this Obscure thingy?” Jacob asked.
Tina turned from Newt; he could hear her shoes on the floor as she moved closer to Jacob. “There hasn’t been one for centuries-”
“I met one in Sudan,” Newt said. Facts. Facts he could handle. “Three months ago. There used to be more of them before wizards went underground but they still exist. When we were still hunted by Muggles young wizards and witches would try to suppress their magic to avoid being persecuted. Instead of learning to harness and control their magic they’d develop an Obscurus.”
“It’s an unstable and uncontrolled Dark force that bursts out and attacks…” Tina said. Her voice trailed off as something clicked, “and then vanishes… It’s been happening for months. They kept saying they didn’t know what it was, and now suddenly they’re saying it was a creature… Obscurials can’t survive long, can they?”
“There’s no documented case of any Obscurial living past the age of ten. The one I met in Sudan, she was eight when she died.”
Two witches in white uniforms arrived at their cell and one opened the door. Both had their wands drawn.
“Goldstein. Scamander. Mr. Graves wants you for questioning,” said one.
Tina stepped out first and allowed herself to be shackled. She looked steadily at Newt as he stood, warning him from any foolish thoughts of running after his creatures. Newt forced himself to be similarly docile as they shackled him. His case was as likely to be in Percival’s care as anywhere else.
------
“You’re an interesting man, Mr. Scamander,” Percival said.
He watched them from his seat at the interrogation table, looking almost amused. Newt felt his chest clench tightly. His stomach was nothing but billywigs of nerves, but they weren’t pleasant nerves. There was nothing that Newt could see to indicate the fine man Theseus spoke of. Nothing to indicate the man he’d always imagined from that stately signature on his wrist.
“Mr. Graves,” Tina started.
Percival put a finger to his lips patronizingly. Tina fell back, cowed and silent. Newt sat heavily and couldn’t look at Percival directly. Everything was wrong. Maybe Percival hadn’t wanted Newt, but if this Percival was truly his soulmate, Newt didn’t want him.
Only the worst sort of person looked at the contained force of darkness and a child’s fear and cared that it was useless without its host.
“‘Useless’? It’s a parasitical magic force that killed a child. What on earth would you use it for?” Newt snapped.
He forced himself to look up at Percival and stare into his face. The face of his soulmate, who didn’t know him, who wanted to use an Obscurial. Newt felt his whole body turn to ice and he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t because of his soulmate’s mark. He grit his teeth and tried to ignore it.
“You are therefore guilty of treason,” Percival was saying, “and betrayal of your fellow wizards and are sentenced to death. Miss Goldstein, who has aided and abetted you-”
“She did nothing of the sort!” Newt shouted.
“She receives the same sentence,” Percival finished. He motioned to the witches in white.
No. Surely not. Surely that couldn’t be right. Newt couldn’t let it be right. Was it just Newt’s wishful thinking or did Percival look startled- guilty?- as though he’d realized a mistake was made?- right before he’d announced their sentence of execution.
Not Percival. Not a stranger. Newt hadn’t met him, but this- this was all wrong. Percival couldn’t be like this. Newt was just going to have to get them out alive to prove it.
Re: FILL: Graves/Newt - Soulmarks [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2017-01-02 11:07 am (UTC)(link)FILL: Graves/Newt - Soulmarks [4?]
(Anonymous) 2017-01-05 02:07 am (UTC)(link)I have no idea how this has gotten so long orz
------
Despite wands to their necks and the clinical way the executioners treated them, Newt and Tina never actually made it to the execution chamber. Queenie- bless her, her ancestors, and all her descendants- heard Tina’s mental confusion (at least that was Newt’s supposition; they’d not had time to stop and talk about it, and if they’d had time Newt wouldn’t have been able to take notes, but given the ease with which she’d pulled facts out of Jacob’s head as a complete stranger and that Tina was her sister...) and took it upon herself to come to their rescue.
The executioners led them away from the interrogation room with purpose, but the execution chamber was far away from everything else. They were still walking through the dark forest of columns when Newt spotted Queenie’s blonde hair from the corner of his eye. Tina was still too distraught to see anything except the span of empty space in front of her and the executioners continued to march them on without pause, so Newt had to guess that Queenie hadn’t been seen.
The executioner at Newt’s back suddenly stiffened in a full body bind and fell to the floor with a thump. The woman holding Tina turned to see what was going on, but before she could shout or take action, she too had a full body bind placed on her. Tina stumbled forward and Newt caught her, craning his head to see Queenie stepping out from behind the column.
“Teenie!” she murmured, hurrying to them, “Mercy Lewis- are you alright?”
Jacob poked his head out from behind another column, eyes wide as he took in the executioners. He held Newt’s case tightly in his hands, as though he expected it to be summoned away from him at any second. He looked at Newt and then back at the bodies on the floor.
“Are they- ?”
“Full body bind,” Newt said. He passed Tina into Queenie’s arms with a careful pat to Tina’s shoulder and a soft, “Easy now,” and then stood to face Jacob. “Don’t worry they can still see and hear; it’s easy enough to undo. Queenie, do you have my- ”
Queenie held out his wand in answer, which she’d appropriated from Percival’s office with Jacob’s help. Apparently Muggles who’d done service for their country were not above using brute force against the office doors of men who imprisoned them. Newt could have kissed them.
He slid his wand up his sleeve and absently stuck a finger under his cuff, where his skin had started burning. “Thank you. We need to go immediately. Somewhere safe,” he said instead, “To talk.”
“Back to-” Tina started.
“No!” Newt stood and grabbed his case from Jacob. “Anywhere else. Anywhere you’re not known. But for now we just need to get out before someone finds these two.”
“This way, then,” Queenie said.
She led them at a fast clip through the halls, careful not to say which way. (That was one slight perk to her job- it was simply assumed that she had a reason to be wherever she was.)
A few passing looks came their way, mostly curious. Everybody knew of Tina due to her demotion, which had been a very public event, and Queenie simply attracted attention no matter where she went. If they weren’t sure who the two men with them were, well, new delegates and consultants came in every day and very few people as yet had been made aware of anything other than the current state of emergency- Picquery wouldn't want everybody in MACUSA knowing that some British wizard had set loose magical beasts to cause havoc, because that would certainly get back to Britain and start an international incident.
They arrived at the canteen and paused to collect themselves. It wouldn't do to go swarming through like the hounds of hell were after them. At least it was unlikely anyone involved with diplomacy would be eating with the paper pushers; even the low ranking members of the international delegations stayed with their groups during congressional meetings.
“Kitchen’s through here. We can go out the service exit. They don’t have Apparition wards there. And it’s an off time for lunch; won’t be many here,” said Queenie, softly.
It was about as solid of a plan as anybody else had, given their circumstances. They stepped into the canteen and forced themselves to chat like they were just late to lunch.
“Stop looking like you’ve never seen the inside of a lunch room before,” Tina murmured at Jacob, with a swift nudge to his elbow.
“Ain’t never seen one like this,” Jacob muttered back.
Newt bit back a smile. To be fair, most lunch rooms in the muggle world didn’t have the trays sent to tables with levitation spells and they certainly weren’t cleaned by house elves. Queenie said hellos to the working house elves and made small talk with some of the late eaters as they passed by. Once they reached the kitchen doors, Tina flicked her wand casually behind them.
“Obliviated?” Newt murmured.
“Confundo,” Tina said. “They shouldn’t be able to recall if we’ve been here.”
Queenie opened the kitchen door and they spilled through. Newt pulled a cocoon out from his pocket and stroked it awake, sending Reginald the Swooping Evil out ahead of them. The appearance of a flying creature in their kitchen sent several human MACUSA employees swerving for cover, yelping at each other, and the confusion meant that they were able to walk through without being truly noticed.
“What is that?” Tina asked as they picked up their jog through the kitchens and into the service entrance in the back.
“Swooping Evil,” Newt said. Reginald returned to Newt and curled into his cocoon, dropping into Newt’s raised palm.
“It’s quite pretty,” Tina said, smiling.
Newt had to pause a moment before he realized her voice had not held the disdain he was used to. He turned that around. “Oh. Yes. Um, thank you. Swooping Evil’s not the nicest name for it, but it will eat human brains if provoked. Not Reginald, of course, I've come up with a better diet for him and-”
“Newt, honey,” Queenie broke in with a fond smile. “Later?”
“So where are we going to go?” Jacob asked, “This isn’t even an exit. It’s a hole.”
“That’s because we don’t need it to not be a hole. You’ll see,” said Tina.
“We need somewhere safe- somewhere nobody will think to look for you,” Newt murmured. “We need time to make a plan.”
“Plan what?” Tina asked.
“Later. Safe place now. Any ideas?”
Queenie looked thoughtful. “What about that one church? Since you’re not supposed to be there.”
“No,” Tina said immediately, “You know what’ll happen if they do look there and find me.”
“The synagogue, then. The one Grandpa liked. The cantor is a wizard without affiliation here and the Rabbi doesn’t have a reason to know us. Even if someone thinks of it it’ll take forever to find.”
Tina nodded slowly. “Yes, yeah, that’ll do. Take Jacob, I’ll sidealong Mr. Scamander.”
Queenie nodded and looped her arm through Jacob’s. Jacob looked momentarily terrified and Newt offered what he hoped was a comforting smile just before they disappeared with the pop of Disapparition. Tina held her arm out to Newt.
“Mr. Scamander?”
“Newt, please,” he murmured, taking her arm.
She slanted a look up at him. Her lips twitched into a tiny smile. “I’m Tina.”
Newt braced himself for the pinching feeling that always came from being Disapparated by another witch’s, or wizard’s, magic. They disappeared just before another witch came out for a cigarette break.
Re: FILL: Graves/Newt - Soulmarks [4?]
(Anonymous) 2017-01-05 01:28 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Graves/Newt - Soulmarks [4?]
(Anonymous) 2017-03-29 06:32 pm (UTC)(link)