Chapter 20
Chapter 20
Llewellyn watched Newt sadly. He could tell that Newt was suffering - that there was something about this he was dreading, something that made him incredibly uncomfortable. He watched the exuberant, brilliant, beautiful soul he’d come to know and love withdraw into a shell of nervousness and anxiety. He watched Newt hunch his shoulders and curl into himself. He reminded Llewellyn of the Newt he’d first met in the interrogation room after the attack at City Hall.
“Newt, are you okay?”
Newt looked up at him nervously, and shot him something between a shrug and a nod, then he looked back down at his hands.
Llewellyn didn’t dare put an arm around Newt. Especially not as they walked through the front door of Station House Four. He did manage to maneuver himself to be next to Newt, allowing his knuckles to brush against the back of Newt’s hand as they turned the corner and made their way over to the Inspector’s Office.
Newt was clearly uncomfortable. He was looking down at his feet as he walked. He only looked up when he heard his name called.
Then, his stomach dropped directly to the floor.
Leta.
He froze, utterly gobsmacked. Of all the people he expected to encounter, she was certainly the last.
“Newt! It’s so great to see you! You’re looking well. Clearly the Canadian air suits you.”
Llewellyn looked at Newt. He wasn’t looking his best...he looked rather nauseous in Llewellyn's opinion.
Newt didn’t respond. His expression was one of total confusion.
Leta was her usual beautiful, elegant, poised self. She was radiant, dressed in a fine silk dress - the height of French couture.
She continued, as if Newt’s awkward silence had never happened.
“I’m sorry we didn’t have a chance to catch up when you were last in England. I would love to hear about all the adventures you’ve been having.”
“...What are you doing here?” he asked abruptly and somewhat rudely.
Leta paused, a look of sadness, or maybe guilt in her eyes, before it was gone in an instant, her face schooled into a look of bemusement.
“I work for the Ministry now, in the Office of Magical Law Enforcement. Assistant to the department head, Mr. Travers. Theseus thought in the face of everything that’s happened, the Ministry Family should be united and unwavering in our support.”
Newt’s eyebrows nearly hit his hairline.
“Did he actually use the phrase ‘Ministry Family’?” asked Newt.
Leta laughed, “Yes.”
“Sounds like my brother,” said Newt.
Queenie cleared her throat.
“Newt, are you going to introduce us?”
“Oh, right. Sorry. These are my...my friends, Miss Queenie Goldstein, Auror Tina Goldstein, Constable George Crabtree, Detective Murdoch, Dr. Ogden, Inspector Brackenreid, and L-Detective Llewellyn Watts,” he pointed at each of them in turn, "This is my brother’s fiancée, Miss Leta Lestrange.”
If Leta was put off by the formality of the address, she managed to hide it rather well, though she did respond, “Newt, we were friends long before I got engaged to your brother.”
Newt opened and closed his mouth, then looked at the floor. The silence stretched awkwardly. She looked at him carefully, and then at Queenie. Queenie grinned and slipped her arm through George’s innocently.
Leta looked puzzled. Still the awkward silence stretched.
They were spared further awkwardness by the opening of Murdoch's office door. Meyers poked his head out, “Ah good, you’ve all arrived. They’re ready for you!” He ushered them all into the office.
The Ministry Family turned out to be comprised of Head Auror Scamander and two Deputy Aurors, Charlus Potter and Trevor Longbottom.
Meyers handled the introductions, “These are the people who were instrumental in the investigation and discovery of the obscurial and the capture of Grindelwald...may I introduce you to Inspector Brackenreid, Detective Murdoch, Detective Watts, Dr. Ogden, Constable Crabtree, Deputy Head Auror Tina Goldstein you know, and her sister Queenie Goldstein, and…”
“Newt,” interrupted Auror Scamander warmly, stepping forward. Newt stood by awkwardly readying himself for the inevitable.
Theseus’s hug knocked the very wind out of him. Newt held back an involuntary groan.
Newt realized it wasn’t actually physical affection that made him uncomfortable. He’d come to find he was incredibly affectionate. He was free with his cuddles to the creatures he encountered. And then there was Llewellyn...he found himself often itching to touch hands or hug. He rather liked physical affection with Llewellyn. Quite a bit actually.
It was when it was forced upon him in a suffocating manner that it made him feel trapped. Theseus for all his love and good intentions, would always be oblivious to how his affection made Newt feel. It triggered in Newt all sorts of painful memories. From the loss of their father, to a lonely and sad childhood, to memories of the war - Theseus’s constant well-intentioned meddling and criticising...they all bubbled up in Newt when he found himself engulfed by a Theseus Scamander bear-hug.
“Theseus,” said Newt awkwardly patting his shoulder.
Theseus laughed.
“You look well, Newt! Much better than you did back home. Clearly a good adventure and Canadian soil agree with you!”
Llewellyn was stunned. He looked at Newt carefully again, taking in the traces of bruises to his face, his uncomfortable body language, and his general unhappy air. He was the polar opposite of the radiant Newt he’d woken to this morning. If this was Newt looking well ...how poorly had he appeared at home?
Theseus gave Newt another firm slap on the back, then turned and shook their hands in turn, greeting them, smiling warmly. Theseus was charming, wonderful and good-natured. He was a brilliant force of warmth; sincere and honorable.
Murdoch was instantly reminded of his own half-brother Sergeant Jasper Linney of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police. The Inspector took an instant liking to Theseus Scamander. They were laughing like old friends, and the Inspector offered his own seat to Theseus, who politely declined... he could never dream of taking away the Inspector’s chair. With a wave of his wand, he conjured seats for himself and his associates. Tina was clearly starstruck. How couldn’t she be? Theseus Scamander was a legend. A hero...superhuman hero to be exact. He exuded power, but not in an ostentatious way like the imposter Graves had. His power was warm and brilliant, like the sun. His mere presence demanded respect and yet not through intimidation. He was magnetic, people wanted to be near him. He was so likeable. Bold, brave, and amiable...a real Gryffindor’s Hufflepuff.
Llewellyn looked at Newt with understanding. His heart went out to him. How difficult must it have been to have Theseus as an older brother. A man so flawlessly perfect, so good with people, so comfortable and at ease with himself, that no matter what one could do, one would always fall short in the shadow of his brilliance. He could see it so clearly, his beautiful, wonderful, gentle, brilliant Newt made to feel lesser only because he was different. He tried to meet Newt’s eyes, but Newt had withdrawn further into himself. It broke Llewellyn's heart.
Llewellyn continued to observe the two Scamanders. It was clear to see they were brothers - they shared the same nose, the same ears, the same features, the same hair colour-though while Newt’s was chaotic curls, Theseus’s was an orderly wave. Though their eyes were similar in coloring, Theseus’s were piercing, Newt’s were gentle. While they were both the same height, Theseus seemed larger than life while Newt shrunk into himself. Theseus was all sharp angles; suave, elegant, and powerful. Newt was soft, quirky and gentle.
Where Newt was shy, quiet warmth, Theseus was a roaring bonfire. Llewellyn could see in an instant why people were drawn to Theseus Scamander. He was likeable, handsome, successful, honorable. A dashing, noble knight of justice, and yet...Newt’s quiet brilliance could outshine the very sun itself if only it were given the chance. Llewellyn knew without a shadow of a doubt who his favourite Scamander brother was, and it absolutely killed him that his Scamander brother was trying so very hard to disappear.
Llewellyn wondered when he started to think of Newt as his. He found that he didn’t mind. In fact, he rather liked the idea.
Meyers glanced at his pocket watch and said, “I best be going...I must greet the other members of the International Aurors’ Alliance as they arrive. Miss Goldstein, Auror Goldstein, when you are finished here, please escort Aurors Scamander, Potter and Longbottom back to our offices.”
“Of course, Sir,” said Queenie with a grin.
“Thank you, Terrence,” said Theseus.
“Good to see you again, Theseus," he said glancing at Murdoch and the rest of them, "We'll be in touch." Then he made his exit.
“Gentleman. Ladies,” said Theseus, nodding respectfully to Dr. Ogden and the Goldstein sisters, once they were all seated, “I would like to begin by thanking you all for your assistance in yesterday’s events. To be frank with you all - there are many close-minded members of our society that would be outraged at finding out about the involvement of members of the non-magical community in this case. Obviously I do not share their views, I find them small minded and incredibly ignorant, but unfortunately, some who hold these views are powerful voices within our community. Not to speak ill of a superior officer, but Torquil Travers, Head of Magical Law Enforcement-”
“Is a bloody git,” interrupted Auror Potter. Longbottom snorted. Leta smirked.
“Charlus,” reprimanded Theseus with a stern glance, “Though perhaps it may be an apt description of our commanding officer, it is not an excuse to be disrespectful.”
Brackenreid laughed. Even Murdoch grinned, thinking of Chief Constable Davis who certainly fell into that category.
“Sorry, Sir,” said Charlus sounding entirely unapologetic.
“Mr. Travers in particular would be best to be kept out of the loop. At any rate, I thought we could have an informal discussion about what transpired yesterday. Off the record, away from official channels. Auror Goldstein has given me a thorough briefing, perhaps more thorough that Prime Minister King would have liked...it was my understanding that some of the events that transpired...never transpired. Auror Goldstein has also informed me about your incredibly successful careers. I recognize that I am in the presence of experts. I would be immensely grateful and honored to hear from you.”
The Inspector beamed, then looked at Murdoch and Llewellyn, and extended his hand as if to say “go on!”.
“Auror Scamander, we don’t have a great deal of experience with the magical world, having only discovered it yesterday, and very little contextual information about what happened. We’ve learned a great deal about obscurials from your brother, but as far as this Grindelwald, all we really know is that he’s what you call a dark wizard. Without that context, I don’t know how helpful we can actually be for you,” said Murdoch.
“You’re absolutely right of course, Detective Murdoch. I can tell you what we know about Grindelwald. But sometimes I find an outside perspective to be essential to get to the bottom of a mystery.”
Theseus smiled at him. Newt remained quiet.
Theseus paused a moment, gathering his thoughts. Then he began: “To give you a bit of background on Gellert Grindelwald...you have to understand that magic has a light side, magic that is good and pure and only creates positive results; a neutral side - spells that can be used either for good or evil depending on their application; and dark side - vile, evil magic that corrupts the soul and exists solely to inflict pain and cause destruction.
“A Dark Wizard is one who devotes his life to the Dark Arts. Our profession originally started as an informal allegiance of Light wizards who sought to stop Dark Wizards...to catch them, and make them pay for their crimes against humanity. Over hundreds of years we’ve become a force of magical law enforcement. Auror forces exist in pretty much every nation in the world. Of course, nations have different levels of restrictions and tolerances for the Dark Arts. There are some ambiguities on the definitions of what constitutes Dark Arts, and what sorts of consequences are doled out to their practitioners. Sometimes, wizards slip through the cracks. Gellert Grindelwald is one of them. He’s become arguably one of the most powerful wizards of modern times. It’s part of what’s making him so difficult to capture.
Grindelwald was born in a small village in what was at the time the Austro-Hungarian Empire. He attended Durmstrang Institute - a magical school in the North of Europe which has the unfortunate tendency to be incredibly tolerant of the Dark Arts. We know that he conducted several experiments in the Dark Arts while he was at Durmstrang. In the end, even Durmstrang couldn’t turn a blind eye, and he was expelled for twisted, dark experiments and near-fatal attacks on several students.”
Newt froze, and looked up at Theseus in shock. Theseus resolutely ignored Newt. Newt then glanced at Leta who was looking down at her hands, also avoiding his eyes.
Llewellyn looked between the three of them. There was a story there and a lot of pain.
“We know little of what happened to him after his expulsion. We know he travelled extensively, slipping deeper and deeper into his experiments with the Dark Arts. We know he spent some time in England with a great aunt, the famous historian, Bathilda Bagshot. Very little was heard of him for years, but then, his name began to be associated in a slew of murders and violent actions. He began to preach, to hold elaborate rallies around the world in which he’d whip listeners into a frenzy. He dreams of overturning the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, thus creating a new order in which powerful pureblood wizards and witches become overlords - ruling over the muggle world, and anyone he deems unworthy - half bloods-children born of mixed magical and muggle marriages, muggle-borns - magical children born of non magical parents, and squibs - non-magical children born to magical parents. He’s charismatic, good at manipulating thoughts and emotions to his every whim...So good in fact that they’ve begun to call him “Silvertongue.” His followers are fanatics who will happily die for his cause. They’ve begun launching carefully coordinated attacks across Europe, committing mass-slaughter. All clearly his work, though impossible to pin on him. Like quicksilver, he slips through our grasps, always a step ahead at every turn. Many times, he is helped either wittingly or unwittingly by members of government agencies and auror forces - mostly unwittingly, either victims of enchantments, confoundments and manipulations, or pig-headed anti-muggle heads of departments who always seem to make the worst decisions…”
Potter coughed in a way that sounded suspiciously like “Travers.”
Leta laughed.
Theseus smirked, then grew serious,
“Though unfortunately, we’ve found Acolytes of the Alliance - Grindelwald’s followers - hidden in auror ranks all across the world. We suspect this might be the case with Mr. Samson here in Canada - This is also why I hoped to meet here. I trust my deputies with my life, along with the lives of the two people who matter most to me in this world - Leta and Newt…”
Leta looked at him with love in her eyes. Newt’s ears went red, and he stared at his brother’s shoes.
“Auror Goldstein, you have truly proven yourself as trustworthy, and the rest of you risked your lives to bring this criminal to justice. But apart from this group here, I don’t know who has been compromised. I don’t know who I can trust. I want to understand how this man thinks and acts. I want to find out how the hell he managed to infiltrate the auror ranks here in Toronto - and why? What was his plan? Hopefully that will allow us to determine where he will go and what he will try to do next.”
“I think it’s rather obvious, Theseus,” said Newt, still staring at Theseus’s shoes.
They all looked at him.
“I don’t see it as particularly obvious, Newt.”
Newt looked up at them, glancing from person to person.
“Well, spit it out Scamander,” said Potter gruffly.
Newt was clearly uncomfortable.
“The obscurus.”
“What do you mean?” asked Longbottom.
“He was hunting the obscurus.”
“Whatever gave you that impression? For what purpose?”
Newt glanced at Tina, “You mentioned that he was obsessed with this case.”
Tina nodded thoughtfully, “He stopped all his other work, focusing only on the Bombless Bombs case.”
“When did this happen? When do you think Grindelwald began impersonating Graves?” asked Theseus to Tina.
Tina hesitated, “I only just began investigating Mr. Graves’s disappearance this morning,” she glanced at Murdoch’s blackboard. “Do you mind if I…” she started, pointing to it.
“Go right ahead, Auror Goldstein,” said Murdoch quickly.
Tina waved her wand, and the board turned itself over to the back side. Then, the chalk picked itself up and began to write. It was a testament to the trial-by-fire nature of the past 24 hours that the muggles present did not even bat an eyelid.
As the chalk sketched out a rough timeline of the case, Tina explained: “The property destruction was mostly centered around Muggle Toronto, but it raised flags in our department almost immediately - when things happen in Muggle Ontario that could be tied back to the magical world, word gets sent to a joint task force in our office, and Mr. Meyers’s. In this case, it was a newspaper article - sensationalist in my opinion, but it seemed to hint that something unnatural was going on. At the time, Mr. Graves put me on the case. At first, he thought it nothing more than accidental magic, or Muggle rabble-rousers.”
“When was the first incident?” asked Potter.
“The last week of May- in the early hours on the 28th,” said George.
The chalk marked it on the timeline. “I was put on the case on the 29th, the morning after the destruction made the muggle papers.”
“It was right before the first murder that Mr. Graves paid the case anything more than the normal level of interest. Abruptly on the 19th of June, he began to force himself into my investigation. He started to keep information from me, which was unusual, as we always...worked well together. Now I realize that this is when Grindelwald began to impersonate Graves.”
“Could Graves have been a Grindelwald sympathizer?” asked Longbottom.
“No,” said Tina and Queenie simultaneously.
“What makes you so sure?”
The sisters exchanged a glance.
“Auror Longbottom, if you’d have known Auror Graves and worked closely with him, you’d understand. It would be as ridiculous as suggesting that Auror Scamander is a sympathizer,” said Tina. Longbottom nodded in understanding.
“When the bodies began to be found, our department realized at once that it must be something more sinister.”
“How did he explain it?”
“He was the one to suggest that the attacks were being perpetrated by Grindelwald or one of his supporters.”
“Clever, he’s sowing terror merely by suggesting his own involvement,” said Potter, shaking his head.
"He formally took me off as head of the case, and personally took control. He grew evasive. Mr. Meyers knew that you were heading the investigation in the muggle world,” she said, turning to Murdoch, “That while the bodies of the victims remained in your morgue, we would never have all the information. He suggested bringing you into the case, Detective. Grindelwald grew so furious...it was shocking. At the time, of course I thought he was Mr. Graves...I’d never seen him so angry before. It was only when Meyers appealed to Madam King that he relented, on the condition that you be obliviated after they got the necessary information from you. Of course, the circumstances changed…”
“Ah yes, Newt...blackmailing...er...negotiating with the Magical Prime Minister certainly helped,” said Leta with wry grin.
“I didn’t!” began Newt indignantly.
“We’ll make a Ministry worker of you yet!” interrupted Theseus with a laugh. Newt deflated. He looked down at the floor, curling back into himself. His gripped the armrests of his chair with a white-knuckled grasp. Theseus didn’t seem to notice his obvious discomfort.
“When I informed them about the victim, Reverend Winters, and the odd scars on his face, he instantly sped over to the New Salem Society...” said Murdoch thoughtfully.
“We’d been keeping tabs on the New Salem'ers - anyone so vocal about magic could potentially pose a risk to the Statute of Secrecy, no matter how insane they seem to the general populace,” said Tina, “Graves must have instantly made the connection to the obscurus right away.”
Newt nodded, speaking to the floor, “He tried to close you out of the investigation, Detective, and he manipulated the situation to get Tina out of the way - not just in the investigation, but the whole department...he had you suspended on falsified charges...he perceived you as a threat and wanted you gone.”
“And when that failed, and I continued to help investigate, he tried to have Newt and I executed as traitors and Grindelwald supporters” said Tina bitterly.
“He WHAT?” asked Theseus looking at Newt, utterly horrified.
Newt shrugged awkwardly, still not meeting his brother’s eyes. “We survived.”
Theseus turned to Tina, “Auror Goldstein?”
She smiled sheepishly, “We did survive, Sir.”
Theseus pinched the bridge of his nose, “I see that while your report was more thorough than Madam King would have liked, it still seems to have glossed over some facts.”
Tina grinned awkwardly.
“But why would he be after an obscurus?” interrupted Longbottom quickly.
Something clicked in Llewellyn's mind. Llewellyn turned to Murdoch, who appeared to be on the same page.
“He wants to weaponize the obscurus! He all but told us!” said Murdoch, “In that first meeting, Grindelwald and Meyers told us they were not at liberty to say much, but that there was a terrorist organization operating out of Europe that was involved with these attacks. When I asked if there was a weapon involved, ‘Graves’ said…”
“‘Something like that’,” finished Llewellyn, with air quotes... “He saw how much raw power the obscurus had, its capacity for destruction. When he arrested us, he was particularly interested in interrogating Newt about obscurials - particularly the possibility of separating the obscurial from the obscurus. He did it so subtly that I didn’t realize until now. But Newt, you... you noticed it then! He slipped. He said that an obscurus without the obscurial is “Useless.” And you said that it’s a parasitic force that killed a child…”
“‘What on earth would you use it for?’” they finished in unison. Newt nodded, looking troubled.
As did Theseus.
“At the Don Valley Brickworks,” continued Llewellyn, “You had very nearly succeeded in taming the obscurus, in helping Credence, and the man - Grindelwald appeared and began attacking him.”
“Why though?” asked George, “Surely an obscurus would be as dangerous to him as anyone else - It appeared as if he was instigating him.”
“Or putting him through his paces,” said Tina utterly horrified.
“Goading him back into obscurus form,” agreed Llewellyn, looking at Newt, “He must be looking for a weapon…”
Newt was still staring at the floor, “What better way to overturn the Statute of Secrecy than with the corrupted magical power of a magical child forced to hate his or her own magic?”
Llewellyn shook his head in awe of Newt’s brilliance.
“And what better way to sow hatred of muggles than showing the horrific abuse a muggle inflicted on a magical child and the disastrous and deadly results of it. You saw Credence’s power. Mind you Credence was particularly powerful. Astonishingly so,” finished Newt sadly.
“He destroyed half The Ward, and was responsible for the deaths of at least nine people,” said Inspector Brackenreid.
Newt looked up sharply and shook his head, “His obscurus was. The obscurial has no control over the obscurus - they’re usually horrified by the destruction it sows.”
“That must lead to more self-hatred. Watching something you fear and hate cause pain and suffering...it leads to more fear and hatred, which then further fuels the obscurus,” said Julia.
“Merlin,” said Potter, shaking his head, “And the obscurial...are you sure he’s dead?”
“The aurors attacked with deadly force on Madam King’s orders. I don’t see how he could have survived a direct assault of that nature,” said Tina softly.
“Trigger-happy fools,” said Newt bitterly, “That poor boy.”
“Ah, poor Newt, you never met a monster that you couldn’t love,” said Leta softly, a sad smile graced her lovely features.
He looked up at her then, his cheeks red, eyes betraying pain.
Llewellyn looked between them.
“That brings up a good question, Newt, what in Merlin’s name were you doing here in the first place?” asked Theseus, oblivious as usual to Newt’s inner turmoil.
Newt looked back down at his hands. “I’m here on my research…”
“Newt.”
“I found a Re’em, I’m trying to rehabilitate her, to release her in the wilds of Canada, I’m just passing through -”
“NEWT.”
Newt looked at him finally.
“What?”
“Dumbledore put you up to this didn’t he.”
Newt opened his mouth to refute Theseus’s accusation, but stopped.
Theseus raised his eyebrows triumphantly.
“It’s not like you think,” said Newt quickly.
“That man is a master manipulator. Thank Merlin he is on THIS side of the law.”
“It’s not like that Theseus. I’m not some sort of agent. He didn’t send me here on some sort of mission, if that’s what you’re implying. Professor Dumbledore and I spoke about my research. I told him I was heading to the Americas, starting in Canada. He told me Toronto was a lovely city, that I should check it out whilst I’m here as I’d likely enjoy it. I don’t know why he said that. Perhaps he saw the advertisement for Mr. J.W. Gorman’s diving horses and recognised that they were kelpies. Perhaps he finds Hanlan’s Point to be a delightful beach. Perhaps he's fond of mille-feuille or shopping at Eaton’s. I don't know. If you want to know why Dumbeldore suggested I come to Toronto, perhaps you should ask him. All I can tell you is I knew I was coming to Canada, and I figured Toronto’s as good a place as any to start.”
At Theseus’s disbelieving stare, Newt said with much exasperation, “How could he possibly have known there would be an obscurus here? Before I arrived there were what - two deaths, and some property damages?”
"That's the question, isn't it," said Potter.
“Were the obscurus markings reported in the muggle papers?” asked Newt.
“No, we kept that to ourselves,” said Murdoch.
“So then, how could Dumbledore have possibly known? Are you suggesting Professor Dumbledore what - scours Muggle newspapers for signs of obscurials? They’re precious rare as it is. There wasn’t even enough evidence in the report to suggest it was an obscurus,” said Newt.
“Newt, I’m not accusing Dumbledore of anything. It just seems too large of a coincidence that you should be here on Dumbledore’s suggestion while all this is happening. What are the odds that Dumbledore would suggest the one city in the entire Western Hemisphere in which there was an active obscurus, especially considering how rare obscurials are?"
Newt didn’t answer.
“What about Grindelwald - How did Grindelwald find the obscurus? Did he come to Toronto and impersonate Graves because he knew there was an obscurus here? Or did he have ulterior motives and just happened to come across the obscurus while here,” asked Longbottom.
“That I don’t know yet,” said Tina, “My assignment and priority is finding Mr. Graves...hopefully if and when we find him, he’ll be able to offer us more information.”
“Do you think he’s still alive, Auror Goldstein?” asked Potter.
Tina paused. She cleared her throat and said, “I certainly hope so, Auror Potter.”
They were silent for a while. Potter glanced at his pocket watch, and sat up straight.
“Sir, we should probably head back, the others should be arriving by now.”
“Of course, Charlus, I’m sure the rest of you will be happy to be getting back to a well-deserved leisurely Sunday afternoon. We won’t take up any more of your time. But if you do think of anything else, please be in touch.”
“We certainly will,” said Brackenreid. Theseus shook hands with them all again.
“Thank you for your time and assistance,” said Theseus, “I’m glad my brother blackmailed Madam King.”
Brackenreid laughed, as they walked past Newt, who looked like he wanted to disappear.
Leta shot Newt an unreadable look as she walk by.
“Well, I best be getting home to Margaret and the boys," said Brackenreid, "Murdoch, Doctor?”
“We’ll head out with you, Sir,” said Murdoch, as everyone else followed them out of the office.
"Watts?"
Queenie glanced from Ll ewellynto Newt to Theseus and then to George.
“Want to grab a butterbeer when I get back?” she asked George, Newt and Llewellyn.
George beamed. “That would be delightful, Queenie. We’ll wait for you here, shall we? He said, pausing at his desk, and shooting Newt a smile. She beamed at him. George pointed at Henry's empty desk directly across from him, "You can have a seat there, Newt."
Theseus paused, “Ah, one moment, Auror Goldstein, Constable Crabtree, I’d just like a quick word with my brother.”
Newt looked, if possible, even more agitated.
“Of course, Sir.” said Tina, “We’ll wait for you outside and we’ll apparate back together. There’s an alley right beside the station that’s most convenient…” They made their way out the front entrance of the Station. Queenie hesitated at the door glancing first at Newt, then Llewellyn. She shot him a sad smile, then slipped out the door.
"I'll just...er...work on my novel, said George awkwardly, sitting and uncovering his typewriter. Llewellyn perched himself on George’s desk, and pulled out a copy of Pablo Neruda’s Veinte Poemas de Amor y Una Canción Desesperada from his breast pocket.
“I’ll wait outside as well,” said Leta.
“You can stay, Leta,” said Theseus.
“I’ll give you some Family Time,” she said. She pecked Theseus a quick kiss on the cheek, and winked at Newt as she passed.
Llewellyn tried really really hard to focus on his reading and not on Newt who shot him a desperate glance as Theseus pulled him a bit further away.
Emerge tu recuerdo de la noche en que estoy.
El río anunda al mar su lamento obstinado...
Theseus looked at Newt.
“Why are you being so cold with Leta, Newt?”
Whatever Newt was expecting this was not it.
“I’m not-”
"She was heartbroken that you kept avoiding our dinner invitations the entire time you were visiting with Mum."
Newt opened his mouth awkwardly, totally unsure of what to say. He closed it again.
“I know you feel awkward about being expelled, and that Leta got to graduate and you didn't, but surely enough time has passed that you can have a normal civil relationship with your old school friend.”
“I wasn’t ex- That's not-” stammered Newt.
Theseus sighed, looking over him with a practiced, concerned eye. He took in Newt’s mismatched and wrinkled clothing, his posture, his unruly hair. Theseus knew he probably wasn't eating or sleeping properly, he had a tendency to forget those things when he got involved in his "work." But worse than that was how positively unhappy he looked. That a man of Newt's age and obvious talent could be so positively awkward...
“Why must you always be so…” he waved his hand over Newt, exasperatedly unable to find the words to express.
Theseus's words cut deeply.
“So...like me?” said Newt softly.
Theseus paused, “I didn’t mean it like that, Newt. You know that. But it wouldn’t hurt for you to be less...awkward. More confident...more normal. It’s like you’re determined to be different; to not fit in.”
“I’m just being myself, Theseus,” said Newt softly, clearly hurt.
Theseus chuckled, “I know. I know you’ve been like this since you were a child, and it was endearing...but you’re not a child any longer. Don’t you want to put your life in order? Surely you must want to settle down...to find a job with a purpose, to feel comfortable in your own skin and happy with yourself. Don’t you want to be respected and appreciated for who you are.”
Newt didn’t answer out loud. He didn’t even know how. Theseus let the pause drag out a little before he continued,
“Mum was very worried. You never wrote to tell her you arrived safely. You know her fear of muggle means of travel since that bloody Titanic .”
Newt winced. “I completely forgot. With everything that happened…”
“Being sentenced to death does that to someone.”
...Era la alegre hora del asalto y el beso.
La hora del estupor que ardía como un faro.
Llewellyn found himself reading the same line about 20 times. He finally snuck another glance up at Newt. He longed to hug him, to defend him to Theseus saying He *is* respectable and happy and appreciated. He is perfect exactly how he is. Finding someone as rare and special as Newt is not a common occurance. If only you could see the real Newt. If only you weren't so blinded by your perceptions.
Newt’s eyes were downcast, a sad, guilty expression on his face.
“Please apologize to her for me Theseus. I’ll send along a note for her, and some flowers or something…”
“I think she’d prefer to hear the apology from you, Newt.”
“Theseus, I just stopped in for a visit...in a matter such as this time is of the essence. It’ll probably be another year and a half before I can come back to visit.”
“Perhaps not, once you hear what I have to say,” said Theseus brightly.
Newt looked confused, “What do you mean?”
“I’m to take you home with me.”
“On whose orders? Mum’s?”
Theseus laughed, “Well, in part. She was worried sick. But when she heard of your involvement in this Grindelwald affair, she was immensely proud... Finally, he does something to his father’s honour, finally he lives up to the Scamander name,” he said, affecting a posh tone with a grin.
Llewellyn winced internally and risked a glance up at Newt, whose face betrayed his hurt.
When Newt didn’t respond, Theseus continued “The Ministry has asked me to approach you with an offer to join the Auror ranks. Isn’t that great news?!”
Newt snorted humourlessly.
“It’s a great opportunity. Being able to go toe-to-toe with Grindelwald is no easy feat. To be able to do it and live to tell the tale...you’ve proven yourself, and the higher-ups have noticed. They’ll waive the training requirement for the time being...it’s a tremendous honour, Newt. They want you to assist us in bringing Grindelwald to justice…”
Newt started at Theseus open-mouthed. Theseus clearly took Newt’s shock for acquiescence, for he grinned broadly, “Excellent, well, all that’s left is to pack your things and-”
“Theseus, not so hasty. You haven't had my reply yet...please tell the "higher-ups"
‘Thank you, but no thank you,'” said Newt.
“Newt!”
“I’m a year and a half away from finishing my fieldworld and publishing a book in my chosen field.”
“NEWT!”
“I’ve made my decision ages ago, Theseus. I chose magizoology. I didn't want to be an Auror then, and I still don’t now. I certainly am not abandoning this unfinished work now. I’m leaving Toronto for Saskatchewan, within the week. And from there, I will travel through America, Central America, South America, and The Caribbean...I will finish my research, and in a little over a year, my book will be complete. End of story.”
Llewellyn felt cold dread slip down into his stomach as he looked up at Newt.
Newt was leaving. Leaving Toronto. Leaving him. The end of the poem rang hollowly in his heart.
Es la hora de partir, la dura y fría hora
que la noche sujeta a todo horario.El cinturón ruidoso del mar ciñe la costa.
Surgen frías estrellas, emigran negros pájaros.Abandonado como los muelles en el alba.
Sólo la sombra trémula se retuerce en mis manos.Ah más allá de todo. Ah más allá de todo.
Es la hora de partir. Oh abandonado!
Llewellyn felt the room closing in on him. He wanted to cry. He needed to escape. He cleared his throat, resting the book on George’s desk, he got to his feet and muttered to George, “I, I’m...I’m going to step out moment for some fresh air.” He slipped out of the station quickly.
The Scamander brothers continued unaware. George resolutely pretended he couldn’t hear as he typed away.
“Newt!”
“I appreciate the ‘honour’ in their offer, but I can’t.”
“Newt,” Theseus pleaded.
“Theseus, I can’t,” he said, emphasizing the words desperately wishing that Theseus would understand. “I’m not like you, Theseus. This...this life, is not for me.”
“Newt, you went to war, this is hardly the same thing.”
“Theseus, The War very nearly killed me. If not for Dumbledore…”
“That’s the other thing that I want to talk to you about,” Theseus grew serious, and placed a hand on Newt’s shoulder.
“I won’t be the only one to have made the connection between this and Dumbledore, and unlike me, others in the department do not harbour any affection for Albus Dumbledore. They don’t know him as we do, they were never his students. There are some who think he’s trying to plan a coup or something…”
Newt snorted again and shook his head disbelievingly.
“Theseus, Dumbledore is not an insurrectionist. As for me, I’ve told you time and time again, I don’t want a part in any of this. I’ve witnessed more than enough violence, death and destruction in the War. I barely survived. Please. Please understand me. Please listen to me. I just can’t.”
“Newt, you witnessed first-hand the sort of man Grindelwald is. Here you are presented with an opportunity, a chance to help stop him…are you really going to walk away from this?”
“The world is not divided into Aurors and Grindelwald supporters, Theseus.”
“Newt, pull your head out of the sand!”
Newt paused as if he’d been slapped.
“Go on then Theseus. Let’s hear it. I’m selfish, irresponsible, immature…”
“You don’t think it’s selfish and immature to go gallivanting around the world on your Beastly Adventures rather than helping to bring a criminal like Grindelwald to justice?”
“My work is also important, Theseus. I’m helping and healing every day…what makes a creature less important than-”
“Newt,” interrupted Theseus, exasperated. "Is this really the hill you’re choosing to die on, Newt? I’m not saying “don’t care about creatures.” You can carry on with it as a hobby. I mean, Mum breeds hippogriffs, but she doesn’t define her identity based on it. She has a life outside of it. Shouldn’t you devote your time and talents to something more worthwhile? I’m not asking that much of you.”
“You’re asking everything of me.”
Theseus shook his head at Newt, utterly disappointed.
“I fear a time is quickly approaching Newt, in which everyone’s going to have to pick a side. Even you.”
Newt looked away, biting back tears that were threatening to fall.
Theseus pulled Newt into another rough hug.
“Come here, little brother,” he said, “Think on it, Newt. Please. I just want what’s best for you.”
Newt didn’t say anything, not trusting himself to speak.
Theseus drew away, “We’ll be in touch...hopefully, before you depart for wherever...”
Newt nodded noncommittally.
“Excellent. Well, best be off. Can’t keep them waiting…” he tipped his hat. “Take care of yourself, Newt.”
Theseus left.
George paused mid key-stroke. He looked at Newt carefully as Newt struggled to collect himself.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that,” said Newt sadly. He turned and saw only George sitting there, and his brow furrowed.
“Think nothing of it, Newt. I know your brother means well, but...." he hesitated, then changed tactics, "Incidentally, I’m glad that you’re a magizoologist. You're being true to yourself, that's the most any of us can do. You’re doing very important work. He should be proud of what you accomplished. The world needs more people like you. I think it’s a real shame that your brother doesn’t see that.”
Newt looked down again, blinking furiously.
When he collected himself, he finally said, “Like I said before, few do...In any case, thank you George. That means a lot. You're a good man. I can see why you're so likeable." He smiled a watery smile at him. George beamed.
"Where’s Llewellyn?”
“He stepped outside for some air. I think he wanted to give you some privacy.”
Newt nodded. He took a seat on George’s desk in the spot Llewellyn had vacated. He picked up the book of poems and ran his fingers over the cover. He flipped it open to a random page and saw:
...Me miran con tus ojos las estrellas más grandes.
Y como yo te amo, los pinos en el viento,
quieren cantar tu nombre con sus hojas de alambre.”
“This is in Spanish - Just how many languages does he speak?” he said utterly awed. George paused again grinning, happy for the conversation to be out of such awkward areas.
“I have no idea. But it’s quite frightening actually. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it’s supernatural.”
Newt chucked. For all his brother’s worrying, Newt was certain he was on the right path, particularly as the path brought him to Llewellyn Watts.
He and George chatted amiably about writing and editing, and the horrors of writer’s block. George began to explain his idea for his new book A Man Alone, until they were interrupted by Queenie.
“Sorry that took so long. Are we ready?”
“Sure!” said George, slipping the protective case back onto his typewriter. Newt also stood grabbing his suitcase.
“Where’s Llewellyn?” asked Newt quickly.
George paused, “He still hasn’t returned?”
“Do you think something happened to him?” asked Newt nervously.
“No, I mean, he’s usually a bit absent-minded. He could have gotten caught up in a conversation with a street vendor. Or meandered away, following a delicious smell…” He took in Newt’s worried face.
“Let’s go look for him,” said George quickly.
* * * * * * *
They searched the streets around the Station House, but still there was no sign of Llewellyn anywhere. Newt was getting steadily more worried.
Did Llewellyn not want to be around him any longer? Theseus was clearly the superior Scamander brother - perhaps Llewellyn thought so too? Or was it Leta? Llewellyn was brilliant. Did he perceive something about their history that made him turn away? Did he feel betrayed!?
Then a far more frightening thought slipped into Newt's worried mind.
“You don’t think Grindelwald…”
“Think positive, Newt,” said George.
Newt looked on the verge of tears. If Grindelwald had him, Newt would never ever forgive himself...
Queenie slipped her arm through Newt's. “Hey, Bunny, don't think like that. How about we go back and check the hotel. Maybe he went back there...And I’m sure those creatures of yours need to eat.”
Newt looked dejected, he nodded glumly.
She turned to George, “George, do you mind carrying on looking here…” she said with raised eyebrows.
Check the pub, she mouthed, and subtly nodding her head towards the nearby establishment where the coppers of Station House Four often would gather for an after-work pint or two. “Meet us back at the King Edward once you’ve found him...er...if you find him. If not, we’ll find you.”
George looked at her somewhat puzzled, but being the good sport he was, nodded and hopped to it.
* * * * * * *
“Detective! There you are!” a voice rang across the dusty bar.
Llewellyn Watts sat hunched over a half-full tankard of beer, looking morose. He didn’t look up as George crossed the bar and sat down across from him at the small corner table at which he sat.
“We’ve been looking for you everywhere, Sir. Is something wrong?”
Llewellyn didn’t speak, just glumly traced his finger along the sticky dark wood of the tabletop.
“Llewellyn?”
He finally looked up at George for a moment, his expression so sad that George didn’t know what to do.
“What’s got you so blue?”
Llewellyn looked back down at his hands.
“It’s nothing in the scheme of life and death, George. I just...I. I-”
He blinked furiously. A knowing look crossed George’s face, and he smiled sympathetically.
Llewellyn continued: “We’ve had a wonderful adventure, and now our adventure is over. And Ne- Mr. Scamander is departing on his next adventure, and I… I’ve come to realize that I rather like…Adventure. And in this short time, I’ve enjoyed having Adventure around, grown accustomed to spending time...er...Adventuring. I’ve never felt this way about...anything...before, I never felt like...like the Adventure was so compatible to me. So absolutely perfect. And the thought of losing...this Adventure…” Watt’s voice broke. He swallowed hard. “I don’t want to lose this Adventure.”
George patted Llewellyn's shoulder comfortingly, “I believe we had a similar conversation about Fiona Faust…”
“George, Fiona Faust was a woman. An er...human woman... This. This is about...an Adventure. A special. Lovely. Beautiful Adventure.”
“Sir...Llewellyn. I understand." said George seriously, "And I want you to understand...that if you’ve found that you like...Adventures...there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s totally fine by me. And you should know, Sir, that your ‘Adventuring’, is totally safe with me.” He smiled sincerely. Llewellyn blushed and looked down, blinking furiously.
“At the end of the day, feelings about women and feelings about...er... Adventures ...they’re not that different. Any time we come to care for someone…” George glanced at Llewellyn's pained expression “Or something ” he continued quickly, “The thought of losing that person or thing is incredibly painful…”
Llewellyn did not trust himself to speak. He felt it keenly, the pain. It was too much to bear. He wanted to weep. It took every last fibre of his resolve to keep it together.
“But,” continued George, and Llewellyn forced himself to look back at him.
“I think you’ll find that the situation may not be so hopeless as you think. I know that Newt was really desperate to find you. Perhaps the Adventure doesn’t want to lose you either.”
Llewellyn cocked his head and furrowed his brows in confusion.
“Perhaps as a euphemism this doesn't make much sense. What I’m trying to say is...Talk to Newt, Sir.”
“When did you become so philosophical and wise, George?” asked Llewellyn finally.
“Sir, some might argue that I’ve always been this way...but truth be told, I’ve spent a great deal of time working very closely with a very wise and philosophical man. It was bound to rub off on me sooner or later. He’s a friend of mine, perhaps you know him? Detective LLewellyn Watts of Station House Four.”
Llewellyn chuckled finally, but George continued on, “He’s not so rational when it comes to matters of the heart, perhaps, I mean, he did steal that bicycle...but then again...who is rational when it comes to matters of the heart?”
“Who is indeed,” said Llewellyn.
“At least this time you didn’t steal Newt’s case.”
“I didn’t steal Miss Faust’s bicycle, Constable. I resent the insinuation!”
At George’s raised eyebrows, Llewellyn grinned sheepishly and said, “I merely... delayed returning it to her.”
“Right, the same way Newt didn’t blackmail Madam King…” he laughed, “You both make a very good...er...pair of adventurers.”
Llewellyn laughed. Then he grew serious and pensive again.
“George, do you truly think Newt…” He looked carefully at George and realized he was unable to ask what he desperately needed to know.
Instead he asked, “What shall I do if the Adventure wishes to go on without me...if it hasn’t come to care for me as I care for it?”
“You’ll never know until you ask. Some things in life are worth the risk. Talk to Newt, Sir. I know a thing or two about heartbreak myself. And Newt...he looked truly heartbroken…”
At this, Llewellyn was overcome with guilt and the determination to do something about it. He got to his feet unsteadily.
George rose quickly to steady him.
“Sir, how much did you drink?”
Llewellyn snorted, “George, I am not inebriated. Merely clumsy. I didn't even finish a pint...I certainly did not drink much...not nearly enough for the conversation I’m about to have, in fact. I hope Newt has some more of that fire whiskey available...or perhaps I should stop and pick up a bottle of wine from my boarding house on the way. I thank you, George. You are truly the best friend a man, or woman...or adventurer, creature, or what-have-you…” he paused to get his thoughts and words back in order, “the very best friend anyone or anything could ever ask for. You’re certainly my best friend, and the very best of people.”
George beamed, “You’re not so bad yourself, Llewellyn.”
Llewellyn grinned.
“Come along then, Sir. I’m to drop you off to the King Edward, Queenie’s orders. Your adventure anxiously awaits.”
As they made their way out of the pub, Llewellyn chucked, “I like that Queenie Goldstein, George. She’s quite a woman. You’ve finally found someone deserving of you, and that’s perhaps the highest praise I can pay her.”
“Sir, are you sure you…”
“I’m not drunk!”
* * * * * * *