Percival never meant to bite anybody. Honestly. He could’ve gone the rest of eternity just contently sipping away at the bagged blood he got from the medical ward. Sure, he certainly didn’t feel 100% most of the time, but he was no stranger to working while exhausted. Everything was going absolutely fine, thank you very much. He had it all under control. The first time he managed to slip up was during a mission with Goldstein of all people.
“Graves, it would be really nice if you would stop hiding behind me and actually do something! ” Tina shouted behind her. They were being bombarded with spells from a very aggressive wizard that managed to steal a very powerful wand. Graves was behind her, covering himself with her protective charm. Even though magic didn’t affect him anymore, the force of a spell hitting his body was certainly unpleasant.
“I’m trying to think.” He shouted back towards her.
“YOU BLOODY MACUSA DOGS, STOP HIDING BEHIND YER CHARMS AND FIGHT!” The wizard in front of them slurred. If his speech was any evidence, not only did he possess a wand with a Thunderbird core but he was highly intoxicated while doing so.
“Stop thinking and do something! I can’t hold the shield up for much longer at the rate he’s going and then we’re both screwed. Can’t you use your vampire super speed or something?”
“Fine, fine!” Graves ran a hand through his hair. “Keep the shield up until I restrain him, and then summon the wand.” Goldstein nodded in response and he darted in front of her.
“THAT’S RIGHT YOU GOD DAMN NO-MAJ BASTARDS!” The drunken wizard shouted, still sloppily sending spells towards their way. Wands with Thunderbird cores were very rare, very powerful, and very temperamental. They could’ve had this guy arrested in minutes if it weren’t for that damned wand.
Percival had to jump to the right to avoid being hit by a Stupefy charm. His only option was to zig zag his way up the alley towards the wizard, praying the spells wouldn’t hit him and hinder his progress. The wizard was somehow so drunk that all of his spells missed him, even when he was less than ten feet away.
“I’m going to ask you one last time to put down the wand, sir.” Graves shouted. The drunken man shouted something incoherent in response and sent a large green spell his way. Graves actually had to leap to the side again to avoid it that time. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” He sighed.
“YER NEVER GONNA GET ME, YOU NO-GOOD SPINELESS FAIRY PIGS, YOU STUPID-”
The wizard’s eloquent speech was cut off short by Graves. He cleared the space between them while the man was distracted and restrained him. Whatever the man was drunk on was good stuff; even though Graves was much stronger than normal humans the wizard still put up a good fight in his grip. The wand flew from his hands as Tina summoned it and he became even more enraged, face turning beet red and spittle flying from his mouth.
Tina walked forward. “Okay.” She gasped, out of breath from keeping such a strong spell active for so long. “Okay, okay. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of magical law. You have the right-”
“OH NO YOU DON’T YOU USELESS DONUT HOGGING WIZARD SCUM!” Evidently, the drunk wizard wasn’t quite ready to shut his mouth. Tina shot Graves an exasperated look that he returned with one of his own.
“Sir, if you refuse to listen to your rights than you’ll be forced to-” Now the drunk man interrupted Graves words.
“OH TO HELL WITH THIS.” With strength that was not becoming of a normal human, the man headbutted Percival’s face. He felt a painful crunch, and could tell from the blood flowing down his face that his nose was completely shattered.. The man than turned around and punched Graves in the face just below his right eye, continuing his onslaught against the Auror.
“Graves, you have to restrain him again, I can’t get a good shot when you’re both moving like that!” Goldstein shouted.
“Yeah, of course, just give me a second.” Graves snarled back. Despite his enhanced physical abilities and superior reflexes, Graves was definitely not a fighter. The only dueling he had done as a human had been with his magic. Before he simply had no need to physically fight or restrain anybody. As such, the other wizard managed to get quite a few good hits on him.
Graves caught the drunkard's fist as he swung for another punch towards his face. He felt his nose healing, the cartilage and bones setting painfully in the wrong places, and cursed under his breath. Now I have to break it again and set it back properly later. He couldn’t understand how the wizard was almost as strong as he was, but it certainly didn’t make things easier for him. A few of his ribs were definitely bruised, and the swelling underneath his right eye was only just going down. A flash of bright light exploded into the wall directly by him.
“Watch where you’re aiming, Goldstein!” He shouted.
“I’m trying!” She shouted back. “I don’t have a good angle!”
Graves shook his head before returning his focus to the wizard in front of him. The drunk man let out a slur of words Percival couldn’t understand before rushing at him, completely barrelling Percival into the wall behind him. The man held him there and proceeded to swing his fists furiously at the vampire. Graves couldn’t control what happened next; he just reacted.
The only way he could describe it was something absolutely wild and primal taking over him. He no longer recognized his surroundings or the witch that was yelling for him; all he knew was the wizard in front of him and the blood gushing through his veins. Before the rational part of his brain could process what was happening he bared his fangs at the drunken wizard (“What the-”) and bit into his neck, hearing a gasp from somewhere in front of him. The warmth rushed into his mouth down his throat, and the experience was so enticing that it was all he could focus on and he just couldn’t bring himself to stop -
“Percival!” The shrill voice from the witch in front of him tore his focus off of his meal. He glanced up and growled, furious that anybody would dare to interrupt him. “Percival, enough.” She commanded.
Whatever wild thing took control of Percival released it’s grip. He dropped the body (no, person; he could hear the man’s heart and his scattered breaths) to the ground and took a step back so that his back pressed against the wall. The sharp fangs in his mouth felt cold and foreign, and a trail of blood stained the corner of his mouth down to his chin. He glanced up at Tina, animalistic fear and shame clear in his eyes, but to his surprise Tina didn’t look afraid.
“Well, I guess that’s one way to restrain somebody.” She sighed. “Come on, we need to take this guy in.”
Percival stared at her in awe. “I just bit him.” His tone was horrified and ashamed. Tina merely shrugged, but Graves noticed that she refused to look him in the eye.
“You’re a vampire, Graves. It’s kind of what you do.” She reminded him. The shame never left his eyes. His hand reached tentatively towards his mouth, wiping away the red stained across his chin. “Pick this guy up; we need to leave before the no-maj’s come to investigate.”
Graves obeyed wordlessly, slinging the unconscious man across his shoulder like he weighed no more than a sack of flour. Tina grabbed his hand, ready to apparate back to MACUSA.
“Oh, and Percy?” She asked. He looked down at her. “Try and warn me next time you decide to bite somebody. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought you were trying to seduce him, not subdue him.”
Percival’s pale cheeks blushed, and though he didn’t laugh she could see the slight smile on his face as he looked down to the ground. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He promised. Tina smiled before their forms were obscured in black smoke, and then they vanished.
~~~
The second time Percival bit somebody was about a week later. The bagged blood supply from the medical ward was starting to satisfy him less and less, but he kept that fact to himself. It honestly didn’t become a problem until he obtained another serious injury.
“Percival, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what was going to happen, I should’ve waited- ”
“Goldstein, it’s fine. ” Graves spat out through clenched teeth. He was back in the medical ward (the off-white sterile walls had become alarmingly familiar), a group of flustered healers gathered around him and trying to force Tina out of the room. They weren’t having much luck.
“It is not fine! You’re missing half of your arm, Graves!” Her voice became increasingly hysterical. The two had just returned from a mission in South Carolina, and when they apparated back Tina was shocked to hear a bloodcurdling scream. She looked to her side and discovered that Graves was splinched; the lower half of his arm was missing and the flesh looked twisted and gruesome.
“Please just go and find my arm, Goldstein .” He growled. Tina gasped, as if suddenly remembering she was the only one that knew the location of Percival’s missing limb. She was out of the room in a flash after that.
“Okay, sir, I’m going to dress your arm-” One of the assistants tried to touch him but he moved the stump out of her reach and hissed. Graves was absolutely pissed. The splinching had ruined his favorite coat and now he was going to have to go all the way back to that tailor in Jersey and get a new one.
He was pretty upset about his missing arm, too.
“Just please don’t touch it.” He growled, leaning back in the chair. “It’ll heal on it’s own once I get my goddamn arm back.”
The healer shook her head. “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t risk any infection-”
“I’m a vampire. I can’t get an infection.” This was why he hated going to the med ward. Just because he was injured didn’t mean he was delicate. He wasn’t some no-maj, for crying out loud. This didn’t stop the healer from touching the bloodied stump, and his vision went red with pain. He shrieked - a terrifying inhuman sound that was reminiscent of a fisher cat screaming - and struck at her hand with his fangs like a cobra. He didn’t bite down hard, and the healer quickly pulled her hand away with a loud gasp.
“What the hell?” She yelled, cradling her injured hand. Two red dots on the back of her hand, right underneath her thumb, were bleeding steadily.
“I’m so sorry, I told you not to touch it, I didn’t mean to-” Graves apologized.
“What’s going on over here?” The head healer came over to the bed. Nicolas Kane was a kind, jovial man with thinning silver hair. His face was plastered with concern as he looked at his patient and assistant.
The young witch glared at Percival and showed her hand to the man. “He bit me.” She spat. The healer looked from her to Percival a couple of times.
“You’re lucky your first on job injury was just a vampire bite.” The healer chuckled. “Mine was from a student that accidentally drank his Potions class assignment instead of water. I don’t know what was in it, but when he sneezed on my hand I got second degree burns.”
“Listen, I’m so sorry-” Percival began. His eyes were filled with the same shame he felt in the alley after he bit the drunken wizard.
“Oh, don’t worry Graves.” Kane waved him off. “It’ll heal in a couple minutes, anyhow.”
The witch was furious. “That’s it? He bit me!”
Kane didn’t look impressed. “That’s what happens when go against the explicit orders of an injured vampire. I know you were trying to help, but for God’s sake Nancy he’s a vampire. They don’t get infections.”
“I tried to warn her…” Graves grumbled. He absolutely hated this. He couldn’t stand not being able to control himself. It was driving the poor man insane.
Just then a group of people rushed into the room, and Percival felt oddly alienated at the sight of his own arm. The attachment process wasn’t pleasant; the flesh and bone didn’t just have to reconnect, they also had to assume their natural shapes instead of the twisted ones apparating forced them into. Percival didn’t let out a single peep throughout the entire process, and whenever anyone came near the man he kept his eyes closed and his jaw clenched shut.
~~~
“Newt Scamander. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Er, the uh, real you, that is.” The small man sitting in front of Percival chuckled awkwardly. Percival glared at Tina. He was dressed in a royal blue coat about three sizes too big, his hair was curly and untamed with bangs that hung off the right side of his face, and he hadn't a small pointy noes with green eyes that seemed far too big. He didn't look like somebody who tamed and studied dangerous beasts for a living. He almost reminded Percival of an elf, or maybe a nymph.
“You’re kidding me.”
Tina looked guilty. “It was Picquery’s idea, not mine.” She defended. “We thought that maybe Newt could help us understand more about you.”
“I’m not one of his beasts.” Percival spat. “I’m a vampire, not a - what even is that? A plant? Goldstein, for the love of God why does this man have a walking plant-”
“It’s not a plant, it’s a bowtruckle.” Newt said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “His name is Picket. Don’t worry; he’s quite harmless.”
“Oh, great. The plant has a name.” Graves sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
“Don’t be rude, Percival.” Tina scolded. “Newt’s here to help. He’s encountered a couple of vampires during his travels, and I think he can help you… cope.”
“I’ve been coping just fine.” Graves snapped. Tina gave him an exasperated look.
“I caught you trying to use your wand to close the door the other day.”
“Sometimes I forget.”
“You tried to do it eleven times before you stood up and slammed it shut so hard the wood cracked.” Tina reminded him.
“Vampires do have remarkable strength.” Newt piped in. Graves was about to open his mouth to respond before Tina shot him another look.
“Face it, Graves. You need help with this. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Tina reassured him.
“It’s not something you should have to be concerned about.” He mumbled towards the ground.
“Well too bad, because I care anyway.” Tina snapped. “Now please just swallow your pride and ask Newt some questions, for Merlin’s sake. I have to go to a meeting, and I swear to God if I come back and you two aren’t having a civilised conversation I will not be happy.” She exited the room, leaving the two men alone.
Graves looked up, and the Scamander boy was looking at him with wide, curious eyes. He suddenly felt guilty for being so shrewd, and figured the least he could do was ask the kid some questions.
“Is there anything we can do about the whole blood drinking thing?” He asked.
Newt shook his head. “No, I’m afraid. Vampires are naturally parasitic creatures. Blood is your sole form of sustenance. However, you’ll be happy to know that it doesn’t have to be human blood.”
Graves raised his eyebrow. “Really?”
“Really. I met a vampire in Swiss Alps who fed off of dragon’s blood. Apparently it’s effects were so strong he only had to drink some a couple times a year.”
“That could be...useful.”
“Indeed.” Newt agreed. The two sat in uneasy silence for a minute.
“What about magic?” Graves blurted out. He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips. Nobody needed to know how much it tore him up inside not being able to do magic anymore. They didn’t need to know how helpless he felt without it. The last thing he needed on his plate was people thinking he was weak.
“What about it?” Newt asked.
“Is there absolutely no way for me to do it anymore?”
Newt thought for a couple of seconds. “In all honesty, I’m not sure.” He admitted. “The only vampires I’ve ever met were muggles before the change.”
“So you don’t know.” Graves’ tone sounded dejected; he knew it was a stupid idea.
“I have a theory.” He offered. Graves looked up at the smaller man. “You see, vampires may not be wizards, but they are magical creatures by nature, and many humanoid magical creatures can produce magic like we do. House elves, for example, are particularly skilled in wandless magic. Even a troll could be capable of a simple summoning charm if they weren’t so thick-skulled.”
Graves didn’t look any happier. “So how come I can’t do any magic?”
“I’m afraid I don’t have a definite answer for that.’” Newt admitted. “Perhaps you need a steady diet? Maybe you just need to keep practicing? Or I could be entirely wrong and there’s no way for you to regain your magic. I’d have to do extensive studies. Oh, and that reminds me; you don’t mind if I perform a few tests while I have you here, do you?”
“What?”
“Well, it’s just that the vampires I’ve met were malicious at worst and reclusive at best. I’ve never been able to properly study one.” The small man explained. He began fumbling around in that damned suitcase of his for something.
Graves wasn’t amused. “What, you want to test on me like some monkey?”
“Well, if you put it that way it sounds rather malicious.” Newt shrugged. He finally took out a syringe and two small glass vials from the case and carefully closed it shut. “I have a theory that vampire blood can be used in medicine and the venom could be made into a handy corrosive substance of some sort. Plus, if I study your blood I may be able to find out what’s stopping you from doing magic.”
“I’m venomous?” Graves asked.
“For lack of a better word, yes. The venom and blood combining in the immune and cardiovascular systems results in one’s transformation into a vampire.” He gently flicked the tip of the syringe needle. “Can you roll up your sleeve, please?”
Percival obliged, but he still wasn’t pleased. It seemed like the Scamander boy was causing more questions to form in his head than before. He felt a sharp pinch in his arm as Newt extracted his blood and transferred it into the vial. It was much darker than human blood, nearly black. Mungo's doctors said it had to do with the lack of blood he wasn't consuming, and recommended he stop starving himself.
“Okay, excellent.” Newt chirped. He rolled up his own sleeve. “Now, I’m just going to need you to bite me-”
“What?” Graves blurted out.
Newt looked confused. “I told you I needed to collect your venom.” He replied innocently.
“Do I really need to bite you to do that?” He brushed his hand through his hair.
“Well, the anticoagulative properties aren’t activated until they come in contact with human blood, so yes.” He held out his arm in front of Percival. “Don’t worry, Picket will make sure you don’t hurt me."
Graves stared awestruck at the wizard in front of him. “You’re putting your life in the hands of a vampire and a plant.” He scoffed. The small branch-like creature on Newt’s shoulder made a disgruntled sound. “Suit yourself.” Percival sighed. He awkwardly grabbed Newt’s arm, fangs extending, and tried to bite into his wrist as gently as he could. Newt didn’t even flinch as his teeth pierced through the skin.
He only managed to get a couple of mouthfuls before the damned plant stabbed him. “Ow! What the hell was that?” Graves complained. Newt sped back to the table and used a q-tip to swab at the bite. Blood and another strange clear liquid was absorbed in the cotton before he placed it in a small bag.
“Bowtruckles have pointed appendages instead of fingers. It’s used primarily for self-defense, but in Picket’s case I believe he just doesn’t like you.” Newt answered apologetically.
“Tell it the feeling’s mutual.” Percival grumbled. The plant still stood on Newt’s shoulder and stuck it’s strange green tongue out at Percival while Newt was turned around wrapping a bandage around his arm. Graves bared his fangs at it.
“He can understand English, you know.”
“Of course it can.”
Newt grabbed the case off of the table and turned around. “Well, looks like my work is done for the time being. I plan on being in New York for a while longer; don’t be afraid to contact me if you have any more questions. I might need more samples as well.” The small man walked across the room and opened the door, turning around once again before exiting. “Pleased to meet you, again. I’m glad to know the real you isn’t as… evil.” He finished awkwardly, ducking out of sight before Percival could say anything and leaving the door open.
“What a strange little man.” Graves sighed to himself, rolling his sleeve down and leaning back into the chair. The open door caught his eye, and he stared intently at it. His jaws clenched shut and his hand shook slightly as he concentrated on barely opened door.
Colloportus, he thought. Colloportus. Colloportus. Colloportus. COLLOPORTUS.
He was about to give up (why do I even bother trying anymore?) when the door softly shut itself and he heard the sharp staccato of the lock clicking into place.
Despite his immense headache and cramping hand, Graves found himself beaming at the closed door.