1941
While tidying, Newt happens upon a glowing book. It is soon revealed to be the old communication device that Gellert had to contact Albus. But why is it glowing now, of all times?
"Gellert?" Newt called from the other side of the door. He heard the lock click in response and scurried inside, numerous creatures hanging from his person. Gellert raised an eyebrow at his scatter-brained husband, fondness clear in his eyes. Newt blushed as he caught his husband's gaze before finding a very interesting spot on the desk in between them.
"There was a, it was, a thing was glowing and shaking? Maybe it was a book? I, erm, wasn't sure if I could, you know," Newt managed to get out, awkwardly unsure of the safety of his husband's belongings. This time Gellert's eyebrow was raised in confusion. He got up and closed his office door after ushering his husband out. He gestured for Newt to show him the way and vaguely heard his coughed out, "Of course," amidst other incoherencies.
Upon entering the room that was Newt's destination, Gellert spotted Credence peeking his head out of Newt's rather interesting suitcase. "It stopped," Credence piped up, and sure enough, it had. The object in question was only faintly glowing now, less reminiscent of a rapture. Gellert's confusion only grew as he approached it.
"It's an old communication device I use to write to Albus with," Gellert mused. "I have no idea why he would be using it now of all times," he grimaced.
Credence noticeably became more on-edge at the mention of Gellert's ex, Newt's old mentor. Albus was more manipulative than even Gellert had been in his past MACUSA disguise. Newt drew his bottom lip into his mouth and worried it between his teeth. "Credence?"
Said man looked up in response. "Finish tending to the animals, would you? Please." Credence nodded at Newt's concerned face, accepting the kind dismissal, and retreating from view. A few of Newt's larger creatures clambered off him to join Credence and the others.
"Gellert?" Newt questioned, sidling up to his husband. Newt's face was scrunched up in confusion, his nose wrinkled. Gellert brushed against him as he retrieved the dimming journal. Newt peered over his husband's shoulder as Gellert opened the journal. The only thing written in it was a faint, 'Hello?'
Gellert and Newt shared a look of bewilderment, both thinking this was definitely not Albus. The pompous man was never unsure of anything. Newt procured a pencil and offered it to his husband, who accepted it with a fond smile. He didn't need an instrument to write in the journal, and if he had, he could have very well used his own. However, he couldn't just not accept an item from his husband, regardless of how trivial it may be. So, Gellert lowered the pencil to the journal underneath the uncertain greeting.
'Albus?' Gellert questioned, aiming to affirm his shared presumption.
Gellert and Newt watched as a reply appeared, seemingly matching the writer's pace. 'Professor Dumbledore? That fool would manage to drop an enchanted diary and not notice.' Newt huffed in amusement, nodding in blind agreeance. Gellert simply raised an eyebrow and smirked, pleasantly surprised that this correspondent clearly wasn't a fan of Albus.
'An accurate assumption. He has lost such things before. I'm surprised to hear of someone not being a mindless follower of his. Who do I have the pleasure of talking to?' Gellert responded, then added, 'It's a journal, by the way.'
Another quick reply was speedily intercepted. 'Tom. Tom Riddle. And you are?' Gellert prepared to respond before another message appeared. 'And sure, it is.'
Newt hid a giggle behind his hand, and Gellert rolled his eyes. He was certain his correspondent had a mischievous glint in his eyes. Seeing no reason to lie, Gellert smirked and lowered the pencil. 'Gellert Grindelwald.'
After a few minutes of waiting, Newt presumed his husband scared off this "Tom". He was just about to join Credence when the diary spasmed and began to glow again. Newt, surprised, crossed the room and resumed his position over Gellert's shoulder. Before reopening the journal, Gellert brushed past Newt to lean against a nearby table, overflowing with books. Newt huffed and moved to tuck himself against Gellert's side, leaning half on the table and half on his husband. Finally, Gellert reopened the journal. He quickly read the words and snorted, tilting the page toward Newt.
It read, 'The Gellert Grindelwald?' Newt smiled and shook his head in faux exasperation.
'Are there any others I should be aware of?' Gellert joked in reply.
A pause and then, 'No, of course not, it's just,' Newt and Gellert waited, 'such an honour.' Another brief pause before a hasty 'Sir,' was added. Gellert smirked, boastful and raring to reply. But before he could, "Tom" continued. 'No one has heard from you since Dumbledore condemned you to Nurmengard.'
Gellert blinked. Nurmengard? Nuremburg? Albus had gotten him condemned to Nürnberg? His home? How? When? Beside him, Newt had similarly tensed, also speechless. Snapping out of it before his husband, Newt gingerly removed the journal from his hands, procuring another pencil.
'What year is it?' Newt clumsily scrawled, not channelling his husband's enchanting energy.
Shock flitted across Newt's face as he watched the answer unsurely appear. '1941, sir.'