When War erupted in amongst the muggles (or no-maj, or whatever it is in one’s country) witches and wizards were not unaffected. Wards to deter non-magical folks from approaching, or even seeing, magical homes and landmarks, did nothing against bombs, bullets, and mustard gas.
MACUSA actually entered the war before it’s no-maj equivalent did. As such, many Americans joined their brethren across the pond in battle.
One such battle, is where two young aurors, not long out of training, met.
The men ended up watching each other’s back as their group was ambushed by axis soldiers. Once the fighting stopped, they both acknowledged that they worked well together.
Both were already considered the brightest of their generation in their respective countries to that point. Their friendship would prove to be a powerful alliance when they started to climb the governmental ranks, but in the war neither cared about political strategy. All they cared about was comradery in the trenches, and mutual protection.
Percival honestly felt that he got more protection from the deal as Theseus proved to be quite the mother hen.
When he was first arriving at the front lines, Percival vowed to experience the war as a no-maj would. No heating or drying charms, no ‘aguamenti’ when thirsty, etc. He felt that it wasn't fair to use magic to keep himself comfortable when the no-majs did not have the luxury, and he was sticking by it too. At least, until Theseus smacked him upside the head.
“You would die sooner from hypothermia or infection than from a cutting curse to the throat,” the Brit would tut, casting the spells on the older wizard himself. “Honestly, you’re worse than my brother, absolutely no sense of self preservation.”
Theseus' little brother, he was a common topic. Theseus was always eager when they received mail, just waiting for the next letter from Newt.
"He's the most amazing person in the world, no one deserves him," Theseus would say, showing Percival hand-drawn images of various magical creatures, from bowtruckles to dragons.
"Of course you'd say that, you're his older brother."
"You don't get it, Newt is the kindest person you'll ever meet, a true Hufflepuff."
When his friend looked confused, the brit took a moment to explain the Hogwarts houses.
"Loyal, kind, and hardworking," Percival mused, "not bad traits to have."
Theseus chuckled.
"Yes, loyalty. It's what got him expelled."
"Kindest person I'll ever meet, expelled?"
Theseus sighed, a sad smile on his face.
"Newt gets along better with his creatures than humans. Children can be mean. He had one friend at school, and she never had an easy life. When she got into trouble, real trouble, Newt took the fall."
Percival frowned, but accepted the vague explanation. As close as they were, they still hadn't known each other for very long, and it seemed to be the younger Scamander's story to tell.
"Do you have any siblings, Percy?"
"No, unfortunately. No one to take the pressure to marry and reproduce off of me."
"Ah, I get it now," Theseus said teasingly. "Your parents can't nag you about finding a partner if you're fighting a war."
Percival shoved the other man over into the mud, and let the conversation go.
It was far from the last time they spoke of their families, Theseus taking any opportunities to sing his brother's praises. The pieces of correspondence shared with him showed Percival how smart Newt was, going in-depth about many creatures. The American wizard found himself more and more interested in his friend's younger brother. He was actually looking forward to meeting the kid.
He just didn't expect to meet him in the middle of a warzone.
No more shots were being fired, no more streaks of light crossed the field. They were now given respite to mourn the dead and collect the wounded, the dragons that came to their aid serving to chase away the enemy.
Percival waded through the blood-soaked mud, taking the time to staunch bleeding and reset bones where he could before sending each injured soldier to the med tent via portkey. Not the best mode of transportation, but preferable to the risk of splinching should they try to apparate.
Theseus was doing the same after binding a cut on his arm.
Both men had their attention drawn towards the one dragon left on the field, a Ukrainian Ironbelly. It looked to be injured, but it also looked to be shielding something.
Several of their fellow soldiers started advancing on the beast, wands out in preparation. Percival moved to intercept them, thankful for the knowledge gained from Newt's letters. Meanwhile, Theseus started to approach, wand tucked away safely in his holster.
As expected, the dragon raised it's head to glare at him. Unexpectedly, the large red eyes widened. One wing came up, moving around the copper haired wizard to pull him closer. Theseus was quite confused, until he saw a glint of something coppery lying in the mud, being guarded by the dragon.
"No," he breathed.
He ignored all the letters that had instructed him on how to behave around a dragon, and flat out sprinted to the figure laying in the mud. He fell to his knees, not caring about the mud staining his trousers.
"Newt, Newt come on. What the bloody hell is wrong with you, you idiot!"
Percival watched with the others as their comrade heaved the limp form into his arms.
"Somebody help! Percival!"
The dark-haired wizard rushed forward, after carefully acknowledging the protective dragon and silently praying to be let through unharmed, and joined his friend, quickly assessing the injuries.
There was an obvious resemblance between the brothers, their hair colour was the same, and both young men had pale, freckled skin. Though the younger had a fair amount of blood staining that fair skin. There was a cut on his head that was bleeding rather heavily, though that was to be expected for a head wound. What really concerned Percival, was the cut across his chest, up to his collar bone.
"We need to get him back to camp. I can bind the wound but he'll need blood replenishing potions and further treatment."
The Ironbelly loosed a rumble deep in its throat, catching both wizards' attention. It moved further to the side, moving as though to welcome them onto its back.
"You can't be serious."
"Well," Theseus smirked weakly, "it'd be a fast way to get back without making his injuries worse."
The American sighed.
"When I woke up today, I really didn't think I'd be convinced to ride a dragon by a crazy brit."
"That's a good chap."
Percival had to physically hold Theseus back from storming into the med tent.
"Your brother will be fine, we got to him quickly, the most he'll have is a scar or two."
"Which is a scar or two too much! He's bloody seventeen! He's supposed to be at school, or at home, or the ministry, behind a bloody desk! Not off riding dragons to fight in this bloody useless war!"
"I know, Theseus. But he's here, and from what you've told me, he won't just go home when you demand it."
The British wizard sighed, but let it go as he was called into the tent to see his brother.
Theseus was next to the cot in an instant, pulling his baby brother into a hug.
"I'm fine Theseus. I just need to check on Berdie."
"Berdie?"
"My dragon. One of the mediwitches said she was injured in the battle, I need to make sure she's alright."
"You need to- Merlin's beard, Newt! You nearly bled out in a field and you're worried about a dragon?!"
Newt looked down at the thin blankets gathered around his waist, grateful to avoid eye-contact.
"I have been training Berdie for months. I know you don't understand, but-"
"You're right, I don't understand. Why are you here, Newt? You couldn't just stay at home?"
"How can you ask that of me? You're the one who ran off to war first, Theseus. You really expected me to sit back home and wait to welcome you home, with a celebration or a funeral? I couldn't do that Thee."
The older Scamander sighed.
"I really can't convince you to go home."
"I'm sorry, Theseus."
"No, you aren't."
The silence stretched between the brothers before the older gripped the younger's shoulder.
"Well if you're going to be out here fighting, I expect you to learn more spells. I heard that your dragon friend - Berdie - will need some rest before returning. My friend Percival and I will train with you 'til then. Deal?"
Newt gave a crooked smile, hazel eyes peeking bashfully through his bangs as he nodded.
Theseus ducked out of the tent and called Percival in. Newt blushed under the American wizard's sharp gaze.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Scamander. Your brother is a big fan of yours, and I must admit, I'm becoming one myself."
"Nonsense," Newt mumbled. "Theseus exaggerates, I'm really not anything special."
"Oh I don't know about that. I learned more about magical creatures from your letters than I did through all my years at Ilvermorny and Auror training. I found it truly fascinating."
Newt blushed, looking quite invested in the state of his blanket. Theseus broke the silence.
"You, Percy, will have the great honour of helping me train my little brother," the more sociable of the three said, clapping the American on the back. "At least, once he's recovered."
"I'm already feeling quite a bit better already, Thee. Truly, I am fine, I really should check on Birdie."
His brother was about to protest when Percival offered a hand.
"If that's the case then I wouldn't mind an introduction. That dragon of yours saved a lot of lives out there. Then, if you're feeling up to it, maybe we could see what we'll be working with for training."
For the first time since he entered the tent, Newt met Percival's eyes.
"Of course, Mr. Graves."
"Please, call me Percival."
"Call me Newt."