July 1928
Newt woke slowly yet suddenly at the same time. His mind was alert but his body comfortable and warm, making thinking difficult but his magic, as it often did, acted without his conscious intention and informed Newt of everything around him.
The room, well-maintained, lived-in, comforting in its intensity.
The windows with curtains partially open to let in early morning sunshine that held little heat to it but brightened Newt’s mood regardless.
The door that silently opened and a bundle of magic that entered that bled no threat no harm good loyal obedient no threat no harm good loyal.
And the body curled around him that Newt knew without needing to think about at all.
Percival Graves.
Newt opened the one eye that wasn’t mushed into the pillow beneath his head and watched the House-Elf respectfully approach the bed with a tray of magically-spelled food, tea, and coffee on it.
“Morning, Master Scamander,” the House-Elf said in a deeper voice than Newt expected of a House-Elf. “I have breakfast prepared for you and Master Percival, sir.”
“Leave it on the dresser, Melky,” a rumbling voice ordered from behind Newt, the feeling of those words felt through Newt’s chest as arms around him tightened and Percy pressed himself closer to Newt.
“Very well, Master Percival.” Melky bowed his head, deposited the tray on the dresser near the window and expertly fled the room, closing the door behind him before Newt could do more than shift in Percy’s arms to try and face the man.
“Stop moving,” Percy grumbled. Newt let out a soft laugh. “I’m comfortable.”
“And I am awake,” Newt responded, finally succeeding in shifting around to face Percy in the bed, pressing himself closer to the auror’s form. “You, Mister Graves, were a tease last night.”
Percy opened his eyes lazily, treating Newt to a dark look in the auror’s eyes that made Newt’s heartrate increase. “Was I?” Percy asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes.”
Percy smirked. “What are you going to do about it?” he asked, shifting his body and pressing back against Newt, slowly but surely until Newt lay on his back and Percy lay atop him.
Newt drew in a sharp breath, hands gripping at Percy’s sleepshirt. “I think you should do something about it, actually,” he replied, tilting his head slightly to expose the length of his neck. “You seem, Mister Graves, to enjoy teasing me and leaving me wanting.”
Newt shifted sharply, taking advantage of the weight of Percy’s body to lift his hips and use his knees to shift Percy’s centre of gravity, causing the auror to have to use his hands to catch himself before he fell face-first. Percy’s hands pressed down on the pillow to either side of Newt’s head, his weight resettled in his hips across Newt’s own, pressing them against each other and drawing sharp breaths from them both.
“So do something about it,” Newt commanded Percy, staring up at him while using his hands to pull at Percy’s sleepshirt until it was rucked up and gave Newt access to Percy’s back.
“Very bossy, Mister Scamander.” Percy’s lips quirked into another smirk and Newt opened his own to order Percy again when the auror suddenly shifted and ground his hips down against Newt’s own, drawing a strangled groan from the magizoologist. Percy lowered his head until their noses almost touched. “I quite like that.”
A hand tangled in Newt’s hair, angling his head, and then Percy closed the distance and caught Newt in a kiss that was every bit as intense as the auror himself. Newt gripped blindly at Percy’s back, his arms, dug his nails into soft skin and whined into the kiss as he tried to buck his hips and found himself unable with Percy’s weight pinning him.
Percy’s other hand moved from the pillow, making the auror’s weight shift and press down down down on Newt’s whole body. Newt gasped and pulled away from the kiss, heaving for breath and letting out a high-pitched whine when that hand skimmed the length of Newt’s chest and pulled Newt’s left leg up, fingers digging into his thigh hard enough to throb.
“You,” Percy panted, biting kisses along Newt’s jaw and down his throat between each word he spoke, “are one of the most infuriating people I have ever met, and I want to make you scream my name.”
Newt let out a sharp cry of pain as Percy bit down hard at the junction where his collarbone met his neck, sighing when the auror licked the teeth marks to soothe them.
“That- Mister G-Graves is not… an… easy f-feat!” Newt gasped, bringing a hand up to grip at Percy’s hair, tugging on the usually neatly-arranged strands, and using it to pull the auror away from his neck. Newt smirked, chest heaving, as he stared up at Percy. “Do your worst, if you can.”
“Challenge accepted, Mister Scamander,” Percy said in a low rumbling tone that made Newt shiver. “Now,” the auror continued, pausing for a moment to stare down at Newt’s chest, “you seem to be overdressed.”
Without even needing to snap his fingers, Newt found himself stripped of his sleepwear by Percy and had barely a moment to register that fact before the auror was diving back down and capturing Newt in a kiss that made him burn.
The hand in Newt’s hair fell away and Newt barely noticed as he clung to Percy as the auror pressed down and ground his hips against Newt’s in little, sharp motions, that made the magizoologist gasp and whine into the kiss. A swell of magic caught Newt’s attention, distracting him from the way Percy was devouring him but the way his body felt like it was on fire with every rocking motion of Percy’s hips prevented Newt from reacting to that swell of magic.
Newt’s hands were pulled away from Percy’s body, dragged above his head with the sensation of silk around his wrists and he let out a surprised sound into the kiss, eyes opening in sudden panic. Percy’s eyes were already open and caught Newt’s focus, steady and intense and it stopped Newt’s panicked fear from spiralling out of control.
‘Oh, he’s- he’s using his magic to bind my hands, oh Merlin,’ Newt realised, a shiver running through him at the realisation.
Percy finally stopped devouring Newt’s mouth, pulling back slowly, making Newt raise his head to follow until he couldn’t follow anymore. Newt bit back a whine of discontent and let his head drop back against the pillow and focused on breathing and calming his heart.
“Is there anything I shouldn’t do?” Percy asked softly after Newt’s breaths evened out. “Is this okay?” He gestured above Newt’s head, and Newt glanced up at his wrists, surprised to see that they were bound with silk in a familiar shade of blue.
Newt stared at the silk for a long moment, thinking about it, long enough that Percy shifted against him, making the magizoologist realise that the auror had stopped rocking their hips together sometime before he’d stopped kissing Newt. It also reminded Newt that he was naked and completely exposed to Percy.
‘This is more exciting than I thought it would be,’ Newt thought, biting his lip and concentrating on ignoring the urge to buck. ‘Maybe it’s because it’s him?’
“Don’t cover my eyes,” Newt said quietly, staring up at Percy. “I want to see you.”
Percy seemed to still over him, not even breathing for a moment before the auror shifted. “I can do that,” he promised, voice still soft. “Newt.”
Newt shuddered. “Percy.”
The auror leaned down and pressed their foreheads together. Newt let out a soft breath as a hand trailed along his side, fingertips lightly caressing his skin and leaving tingling sensations in their wake. Percy’s other hand came up to cradle Newt’s cheek.
“Look at me,” Percy told him just as that first hand ghosted lightly along Newt’s stomach, nails scratching agonisingly soft on sensitive skin. Newt sucked in a breath, his stomach tensing, as that hand curled around his cock. “Look at me.”
Newt nodded, gasping and forcing himself to keep his eyes open. “I- I’m looking.”
Percy tightened his hold on Newt’s cock, twisting his wrist sharply and Newt moaned, eyelids fluttering as he tried to do what Percy commanded of him. “Don’t look away,” he reminded Newt, voice low.
“I wont,” Newt promised, “I won’t.”
July 1928
“What are the chances that this will end well?” Newt asked, voice low as he stood back-to-back with Percy.
“For them or for us?” Newt heard the dark amusement in Percy’s voice and felt the way the Auror shrugged his right shoulder casually.
“Them,” Newt clarified, biting back an inappropriate smile. The wizards in front of him were tense enough as it was, he didn’t need to give them any other reason to jump the gun pre-emptively.
“If they drop their wands and surrender, it’ll end well enough,” Percy said, voice still darkly amused. Newt couldn’t see his face, but he could imagine the expression on the Auror’s face well enough; it was a wonder that the wizards facing Percy hadn’t turned tail and ran if they were smart enough to register the promise of violence that Newt easily noticed when Percy was faced with this sort of situation. “If not… healers may be required to put them back together.”
Newt couldn’t help it. He snorted at the nonchalant way Percy said that, and a smile worked its way on his face despite his best intentions. The wizards facing Newt shifted nervously, two of them tightening their grips on their wands as they shakily aimed at Newt and Percy.
“You’re tied up and we have your wands!” The one on the far left in front of Newt exclaimed, shaking his wand at Newt in what was probably supposed to be a threatening manner but, coupled with the nervous anxiety Newt could hear in his voice, looked rather desperately sad. “What are you even on about?”
Newt sighed at Nervous – he needed to call them something, he’d already named the two next to Nervous, Awkward and Twitchy, owing to the way they seemed to be very nervous themselves even though Newt and Percy were ‘at their mercy’. “You should pay better attention to your surroundings,” Newt informed Nervous.
Awkward shifted, well, awkwardly and looked from Newt to Nervous and back again. “What?”
Percy sighed. “I’m embarrassed we got caught out by this lot,” he said to Newt, tilting his head back to rest against Newt’s neck. It allowed the Auror to look Newt in the eye and use Legilimency to speak without the wizards around them catching on.
‘Are you sure you can handle this many?’ Percy thought at Newt who couldn’t help but let his smile soften slightly into something a little warmer and less mocking as he focused on the Auror.
‘Yes,’ Newt thought back. ‘Just be ready to grab our wands.’
Percy didn’t send a coherent thought back, but Newt sensed the agreement from the Auror as they both broke eye contact to stare at the wizards in front of each of them. Newt pushed out with his magic again, careful to avoid notice by anyone other than Percy – who seemed to be one of a handful of wizards that could tell when Newt used his magic this way – and curled it around a handful of objects outside of the ring of wizards surrounding them.
“It could be worse,” Newt said conversationally. “We could have my brother with us to mock us both.”
Percy snorted. “That would lead to dismemberment for sure,” the Auror replied.
Newt laughed. “Dismemberment isn’t off the menu here.” Before Nervous could say anything to that, Newt twitched hands, bound behind his back and against Percy’s own that were also tied behind the Auror’s back.
Percy reacted immediately to the signal.
A dozen objects ranging from goblets to candelabra flew at the back of the heads of the dozen wizards surrounding Percy and Newt at the same time as Percy used his own wandless magic to undo the ropes binding them both and sprung toward the wizard that had their wands – Newt nicknamed that one Annoying because he’d been nothing but annoying the entire time they’d been tied up.
Newt dropped the objects with his magic the moment they struck the dozen wizards on the backs of their heads and jumped up, snagging his wand from Percy’s out-stretched hand as the Auror automatically offered it to him, and together they disarmed and restrained the mostly unconscious wizards that had caught them unawares only an hour previous.
“Well,” Percy said, looking down at the dozen wizards lying on their stomachs, arms and legs bound behind their backs, most of them still unconscious and all of them gagged because Newt couldn’t be bothered listening to any of them. “That was anticlimactic.”
Newt snorted. He fixed the collar of his coat and flicked his wand to clean the dust off his trousers, doing the same to Percy’s clothing at the same time. “I expected at least one of them would have some situational awareness,” Newt commented, giving the wizards a look that probably conveyed disappointment if the way one of the most conscious of the dozen flushed and shouted something muffled by the gag in his mouth. “I’m actually a little offended at how bad they are,” he continued, moving across the room they’d been dragged to for ‘interrogation’ while the wizards waited for whoever they considered ‘in charge’ of their little outfit. “I haven’t come across such a poorly organised smuggling operation in nearly five years.”
Percy shook his head and said nothing, but Newt saw the way the Auror hid an amused smile at Newt’s words. Percy flicked his wand, and a small ribbon of silver erupted from the tip, swirled around his hand for a moment and then faded from sight.
“Thee is going to be so annoyed with us for getting caught,” Newt sighed, coming over to lean against the wall beside Percy who leaned lightly against the wall as well.
“Correction,” Percy said, “he will be annoyed at us for getting caught, he will want to skin me for letting you get injured.” As Percy said that the Auror reached out with his non-wand hand and brushed back Newt’s fringe, revealing a cut on the side of his forehead.
Newt tilted his head away from Percy’s hand. “It’s a scratch,” he protested. “Barely even bled and my magic is healing it already.”
Percy frowned. “Just because it’s healing quickly doesn’t mean it was a scratch,” the Auror said quietly, staring at Newt intensely. “You’ll need to be seen by a healer when we get back.”
Newt groaned. “Only if you do as well.”
“I don’t-”
“You caught a Crucio before they disarmed us, I don’t care if you say you’re fine, your nerves could be permanently damaged if you’re not treated,” Newt cut Percy off, staring hard at the Auror.
Percy sighed. “Fine.”
“Good,” Newt said just before a series of cracks sounded in the room and both Percy and Newt immediately cast.
Percy struck out at the wizards that appeared while Newt summoned a shining, golden shield around them both. Percy’s attack was strong enough to knock two of the wizards that apparated off their feet, but the others caught themselves quickly.
“Friendlies!” A voice shouted, accented and familiar to Newt and Percy both. “Merde but you nearly took Cesar’s head off!”
Newt stifled a laugh at the sight of Cesar Cerecero with his hands over his head, while his fellow Spanish junior Xavier Arriaga rolled his eyes at his colleagues dramatics.
“It’s still attached, he’s fine,” Percy said, and Cesar dropped his hands from over his head to stare at Percy with wide eyes. “Good reflexes,” Percy added when he glanced at the Spanish Auror.
“Take them for interrogation,” Percy ordered the eight Aurors that had arrived after his message. “See whatever you can get out of them, then send them to whichever Ministry has the most Notices out for each of them.”
“Are you injured?” The accented voice asked, and Newt turned his head to focus on Dimitri, the French Auror that seemed half-in-love with Newt for his research alone. “Ah,” Dimitri said, gaze focused on Newt’s forehead and his hair that was stained with blood. “Never mind.” He flicked his wand and sent a silver ribbon message off that, Newt surmised, likely was an order for a healer to be ready to check on Newt and Percy back at Headquarters.
“Are you good to apparate?” Dimitri asked.
“I’ll take him via side-long,” Percy said, injecting himself into the conversation and revealing he’d been listening even as he watched the other Aurors drag their suspects off.
Newt bit back the desire to tell Percy no because the Auror had been struck with a Crucio not even an hour ago and absolutely shouldn’t attempt side-long apparition but he doubted Percy would listen to him. Besides, Newt glanced at Percy from the corner of his eye, it wasn’t like Newt couldn’t side-long apparate Percy instead.
He was quicker at apparating, after all.
Dimitri nodded. “Yes sir,” the French Auror said, “I’ll sort this out and get this lot interrogated before nightfall.”
“Report on my desk?” Percy asked and Dimitri nodded. “Good. I’ll leave it to you then, Rouselle.”
“Sir.”
Percy reached out to Newt and hooked their arms together, shifting on his feet to prepare to apparate. “Hold on—”
Newt didn’t even bother turning on his heel. He pulled on Percy at the same moment as he apparated, catching the Auror off-guard and making Percy the one who was apparated side-long, a smirk on Newt’s face as they disappeared from where they stood – Dimitri watching with an amused expression on his face as he seemed to have realised what Newt had done – and reappeared in a moment in Percy’s office in ICW Headquarters.
“—now.”
Newt caught Percy as the Auror stumbled reflexively at the change in location and waited for the glare Percy immediately sent him when Percy realised what Newt had just done.
“Newt,” Percy growled, sounding as annoyed as he ever did when Newt caused the man stress.
“I’m not concussed and I know my limits when it comes to apparating,” Newt said calmly, cutting Percy off before the Auror could work himself up to a lecture. “You’re in pain, even if you’re hiding it, and performing a side-long apparition as the main apparition party would have caused you to experience a nervous flare up which, after getting Crucio’d is not something I will allow you to do.”
Newt and Percy stared at each other, both stubbornly determined and both well aware that Newt was right and it was only Percy’s pride and protectiveness that prevented the Auror from admitting that fact.
Newt studied Percy’s face and body language, noting the moment the Auror admitted defeat; Percy’s shoulders dropping from their squared posture, hands loosening from the tensed fists they’d been, jaw relaxing as he stopped grinding his teeth.
“Let’s just get checked over,” Percy finally said and Newt nodded, accepting the silent admission from the proud Auror. “Theseus will have my head if he finds out you apparated us here.”
“Thee can’t have your head,” Newt replied, reaching out and wrapping one of Percy’s hands with his own. He leaned forward, angled his head and purposefully brushed Percy’s ear with his lips. “It’s mine.”
Percy’s free hand curled around Newt’s waist. “All of me is yours,” Percy said lowly, pressing his face into the hollow of Newt’s neck. The Auror’s lips were like a brand on Newt’s neck, lightly caressing over his pulse.
A loud rap on the door to Percy’s office had them jumping back, creating space between them and Newt turned to look at the office door just as it opened and Thee’s head poked in to give them a look.
“Healer is here,” Thee told them both, raising an eyebrow and Newt threw his brother a scowl, adding a sharp flare of magic that poked Thee in the side making the British Auror twitch viciously. “Ouch! Damn but see if I do you a favour again,” he muttered, pulling back but leaving the door open.
The healer immediately pushed the door open fully, strode inside and shut the door behind them. Newt groaned internally as he realised who the healer was.
“Matron Genet,” Newt greeted the middle-aged, stern healer who had been assigned to the Hunt as their primary healer. He really wished one of the other healers had been on-call because Matron Genet seemed to consider Newt to be incapable of understanding his own body and its needs.
Granted, that was mainly because the Matron had seen the state of the electrical burns Newt hadn’t had treated and proceeded to hit him with a medical journal that weighed as much as Newt’s Niffler after a particularly busy night of thievery. Thee hadn’t had an ounce of sympathy for Newt when he’d found out what Matron Genet had done once he’d learned the reason why.
“Sit down and do not argue with me,” Matron Genet ordered and Newt immediately sat in the nearest chair, Percy doing the same the moment Matron Genet glanced at him with a frown on her face. “I do not care for whatever excuse you have Monsieur Scamander, you will submit to a scan, any treatment I deem necessary, and shall not argue or I shall have you admitted to Silverwood until I consider you fully recovered.”
‘This woman is worse than mother and Thee combined,’ Newt thought forlornly as he nodded, acknowledging that Matron Genet’s threat was less of a threat and much more a promise. ‘We should just shove Grindelwald in her direction, he’d give up arguing the moment she pulled out the entire third volume of La Presse Médicale and promised to use it to beat some sense into him!’
“Yes, Matron,” Newt said, letting Matron Genet run her usual diagnostic spells. He fought back the instinctive twitch at the feeling of the French healer’s magic as it assessed him, his own magic responding to the perceived invasion and requiring Newt to focus on not reacting.
Ever since the potion exploded and Newt had linked his magic with the Hieracosphinx, his ability to sense magic had increased dramatically which had its benefits. However, at the same time as the increase in his magical sensitivity, Newt’s own magic had changed, becoming more adaptable and it was a challenge for him to stop his magic from reaching out and connecting with other magical cores and artefacts that seemed to call to his magic.
It was mostly under control but Matron Genet’s initial scan of Newt had resulted in the Matron picking up that something was… not wrong with Newt’s magic but certainly different enough to have the French healer often stepping in when Newt needed healing. In a way it made it easier for Newt to allow Matron Genet to perform her duties because he’d become more familiar with her magical signature over the past five months, he’d been a member of the ICW Hunt for Grindelwald, but it also meant that Matron Genet became more familiar with Newt’s magic in turn.
The threat of admitting him to Silverwood until he was ‘recovered’ was a very real one because Matron Genet seemed to believe that Newt’s magical reactivity was a symptom of something rather than a result of the way Newt’s magic had always been…. Unusual.
Especially since….
“Your head injury has already fully healed and there are no lingering traces of a concussion, Monsieur Scamander,” Matron Genet announced, catching Newt’s attention and distracting him from certainthoughts just in time. “You should get some rest, avoid anything strenuous for at least a day, two would be better, and inform me immediately if you begin experiencing nausea, dizziness, confusion, or a fever.”
Newt nodded. “Thank you, Matron Genet,” he said. Matron Genet huffed at him, unimpressed, and turned her attention to Percy.
“I can already tell you have been magically harmed, Monsieur Graves,” Matron Genet said, looking Percy up and down with a frown on her face. Newt watched as Percy obviously tried not to squirm at the assessment from the French healer, remaining silent as she scanned the Auror the same as she had Newt. “There is minor nerve damage from a dark curse – Cruciatus non? – and some muscle strain also. Nothing requiring more than a restorative and nerve potion also. Some rest, no work for at least two days, and avoid straining your magic for at least a day and you shall be fine Monsieur Graves.”
‘I knew it,’ Newt thought, giving Percy a sharp look that the Auror studiously ignored.
Matron Genet drew two potions from the sleeve of her right arm and handed them to Percy who took them with a nod of thanks. “Go home, Messieurs and rest,” the French healer ordered them both, fixing them both with a sharp stare. “Au revoir Messieurs.”
Without a second look, the French healer left Percy’s office with all the aplomb that she entered it with. Newt stared at the door as she closed it with a snap before turning his attention over to Percy.
“Portkey home?” Newt asked, the question purely rhetorical, but he asked nonetheless.
Percy glanced at him and nodded before his gaze fell back to the potions Matron Genet had handed him, his expression clouded with something that had Newt instinctively rising from his chair and moving over to perch on the arm of the armchair Percy sat in.
“What is it?” Newt asked, softly. He placed a hand on Percy’s shoulder. Percy reached up and covered his hand with his own, squeezing firmly.
“I had to take so many of these damned things after I was rescued, I hate seeing them,” Percy confessed, voice low and heavy with memory. “I don’t want to take them.”
Newt leaned against Percy, tilting his head to rest atop the Auror’s. “I can understand that,” he said. “I avoid them too,” Newt admitted, feeling the way Percy twitched at the admission. “I take them because I need to and because I know it’d hurt others if I didn’t,” Newt continued, biting his lip. “I take them even though I don’t want to because I know they’re necessary for me to be able to do what I need to do for my creatures, also.”
“Yes,” Percy agreed quietly. Newt felt the sigh Percy let out, heavy and long, before the Auror steeled himself and the moment of vulnerability was gone. “I’ll take them at home,” Percy said, “I likely will sleep half the day away afterwards.”
Newt smiled when Percy looked up at him. “Not alone,” he reminded the Auror.
Percy smiled. “No,” he agreed, voice gone soft and warm. “Not alone.”