Finding Mr Graves

Author Note: This fic is AU and is an alternative take/possibility of what could have happened to the REAL Percival Graves after he fell into the clutches of Gellert Grindlewald – taking up the possibility that he may not have died at his hands. Also includes time twisting creatures and time travel and a ton of hot romance.

Also please note I am an author in RL with an ebook sci fi serial to write so please be patient for updates on this story! Enjoy this fic :-)

Plot Summary:

New York, 1926:

After finding evidence that Graves may still be alive, along with evidence that a time-twisting creature may have been used to transport the real Graves to another time and place, Seraphina Picquery realises only one man can help to answer the question imprisoned Grindlewald refuses to answer – is Graves alive or dead? Her only hope is Magizoologist Newt Scamander, who may be able to use a creature of his own to track the imprint left on the fabric of time – even though time twisting creatures are definitely illegal in New York...

England, 1986:

Karen Trent is in her early twenties and into the Madonna look big time, with her streaked hair in a lace bow and a jelly bracelet and bangles collection to fill both arms. She's planning on a summer break at the coast, until her best friend in a crisis calls and asks for a favour – that favour is to step in and take her place, acting as care giver to a man named Graves who is staying at a house in the countryside, currently recovering from some kind of accident that he can not recall.

When Karen meets Percy Graves, it's instant attraction, even though Mr Graves is still weak and struggling to recover – and making strange claims to have magical powers and be from another realm... Dismissing his claims as delusional, Karen soon realises there is much more to Graves than she first thought - as strange events begin to occur, which soon become sinister and just as the two of them are growing closer and crossing a line that Graves once thought he would never cross with a No-Maj, it seems unstoppable events will take place to tear them apart forever – just as Graves has fallen in love and Karen has realised that magic does exist. It seems nothing can stop the situation from spiralling into disaster – unless an unseen helper who has quietly taken many risks to assist Graves since his capture comes out of the shadows and makes their presence known – and admits to the crime of knowing far too much for too long and withholding information...

Rated M

Warnings: A few warnings here – Rated M for all the right reasons. Dark / harsh moments. Mentions of torture. Very sinister Grindlewald. Adult language including swearing and sexual dialogue including romantic/ passionate in some scenes and of a dark nature in others (sinister Grindlewald)... Also some scenes of an adult /passionate/ lovemaking nature, a dark and heavy fic in some chapters, an emotional roller coaster.

Ships: Graves X OC, Newt/Tina, some references to a previous/past Graves/Seraphina a very handsome OC XSeraphina! And... not a ship but, creepy and dark Grindlewald in conversation with disgusted Seraphina.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything but my love of this fandom!

Chapter 1

New York, 1926

"Do you still think you can hold me, President Picquery?"

As Grindlewald asked that question, he was sat on the other side of the table in the dimply lit room, his hands bound in chains in front of him. Guards stood behind him, and behind Seraphina to guard her safety entirely as she sat on the other side of the table, looking with contempt at the man with the shock of white hair and ice cold eyes as she gave no answer to his question, because she was here to demand answers and would not allow him the luxury of becoming interrogator, not even for a second.

Grindlewald smirked as his gaze shifted up and down her attire, then he licked his lips and she held her sights on his eyes, not flinching even though she could feel his thoughts and he knew it. He wouldn't get satisfaction from cheap intimidation.

"I said, do you still think you can hold me? " he asked again, "I bet if the tables were turned you would see the rationality of holding me in a very different way. Better friends than enemies...although I'm not Percival Graves. You held him long ago. He gave me all the answers I needed to take on his image when I tortured him, Seraphina. But you gave him everything during that passionate fling...no secrets from him. You were wide open...in every way -"

"You will answer my questions and only my questions!" she said as anger flashed in her eyes.

He smiled, looking away to the wall as her face showed a flicker of a flush – of course it did, he had just exposed a long hidden secret in front of some of her most trusted guards...

When she spoke again, none of the steel was gone from her gaze, nor did her voice falter.

"I had the crime scene re-examined, my people searched for every possibility. We found traces of a substance to suggest an organic time altering creature had been employed at the château, in the basement in the room you sealed off... the one you thought would stay concealed!"

Now she caught a flicker of alarm in his eyes and it felt like victory.

"That's right, we detected the concealment spell and managed to break it. Forensics came up negative for murder and found no suggestion a corpse had been stored there – but it was psychically clear that the impression of torture had been imprinted within the room. It was in that room the time altering trace was found. Now tell me Grindlewald, where is Percival Graves?"

It hadn't seemed possible for his face to pale an even more deathly hue, but it did. His gaze flickered away from her, then back again as he he let out a small sigh, not quite a sign of defeat but certainly one of annoyance.

"I give up,"he stated, and she felt a sinking sense of defeat at the mockery underlining his tone as he fixed his ice cold gaze on her, "I confess. He was at the château..."

He paused, then his lips tugged into the hint of a cruel smile as a look lit his eyes that said it was a memory he would look back on with twisted pleasure.

"I killed the rest of his team when they reached the chateau. Hit them with a powerful blast that scorched their shattered bones. I needed Graves alive to extract information. I also needed his wand for authenticity, so I protected him from the flames, but not from the impact. It shattered every bone in his body. I took him back to the château and tortured him for weeks. Spells can do amazing tricks with breaks and wounds...can twist pain like you wouldn't imagine. Then when I had the information I needed and he had no strength left to scream, I sent him far away, in every way – from this place and this time. You can be sure he died alone, in agony. That is all you can be sure of. Even I don't know where I sent him and quite frankly, I don't care."

He smiled broadly.

Tears were threatening to well in her eyes, but her anger came to the fore as she remembered her position and how to weep now in front of the enemy would let down the man who would have expected so much more of her – maybe Graves was dead, maybe not...that doubt was something to hold on to, an anchor to stop her from being washed away in despair. She tried to block out his torture and thoughts of his pain, remembering only that there was a slim chance he may still be alive and waiting to be found.

"When the time comes to put you to death, I'm going to feel great satisfaction," Seraphina said to him, "Not because I enjoy watching another die – but because one as dangerous as you, one who delights in suffering and craves war, will finally pay for his crimes and your poor victims will have justice!"

Pain shone clear in her eyes as she rose from her seat. She turned her back as his expression showed no sign of fear or concern at her remark, then flanked by guards, Seraphina left the room without a backwards glance.

The English Countryside, 1986:

Karen's bag was weighing heavy as she staggered down the country lane in high heeled boots. Her pink summer dress was short and tight and hugged her figure, she was wearing her black cropped jacket with the sleeves rolled up showing off her many bangles and jelly bracelets because she simply couldn't carry anything else with the weight of her bag. The cottage was far from the place where she had got off the bus and she was following a mental map inside her head, described by her best friend during a phone call that morning, the call that had seen her change her plans for the summer:

"Karen, I need your help,"Paula had said as Karen blinked sleep from her eyes and wearily held on the the receiver as she tried to wake herself sharply at such an early hour. Morning light was spilling through the net curtains as she sat up in bed and pushed bleached hair with dark roots out of her eyes and listened.

"I've got a family crisis going on – actually my boyfriend came up with two tickets for a cruise – it was his parents tickets but his mum broke her leg and it was too late to cancel and they gave him the tickets because it was his birthday three days ago – so I'm away for the summer. I need you to fill in for me."

"What do you want me to do?" Karen had asked.

"I'm booked up to take care of this guy who lives out in the countryside. He's no trouble, he's recovering from an accident and this is the part you won't turn down – the money is insane... two grand a month...just to look after him. I've been there for two weeks and he's okay, you can be sure of that, you're quite safe."

"What's the catch?"

"There is no catch. He just happens to pay very good money for his care. He was in some kind of accident, had some terrible injuries... a medic I spoke to said it was the kind of thing you expect t see in a ninety mile an hour collision, but somehow he pulled through. His memory is bad and he gets confused, he needs some help around the house too... His name is Graves, Percy Graves. So do you want this job or not?"

All thoughts of a summer of fun were gone as she thought about the money. They had both worked for hire form the same agency for two years and she had never known a client to pay so well... But if Paula said he was okay, she felt sure she would be safe even though two grand a month seemed incredibly high for a basic job.

"How long does he need me for?"

"Three months."

"Six grand?" she exclaimed.

"Well minus the two weeks I worked. I'm leaving right now, he's in bed, he won't be needing anything for a while yet he's never up before mid day – the poor bloke sleeps such a lot. Can you be here for eleven? I'll leave the key under the doormat."

"Give me the address," she said, and grabbed a pen, then with no paper within reach, she had started to scribble the instructions down on the back of her hand.

"I'll leave the money in the safe," Paula told her, "Percy said I could do that. He will' trust you to only take what you earn. It's weird, he kind of knows when you're telling the truth – he's got these dark eyes that can almost go right through you..."

"Sounds like you fancy him!" Karen remarked.

Paula laughed.

"I love my boyfriend! But there's no denying Percy is a looker! Oh, and one more thing..." she giggled, "I feel so bad for laughing...I mean, after what he's been through I shouldn't be surprised he's a bit confused... but he thinks he's a wizard."

"A what?" Karen said, now wide awake and still wondering if she had heard her right.

"He thinks he has magical powers. But he's harmless, he's a really sweet person. And you're so good at connecting with people, he needs that kind of help more than he needs a nurse. So will you do this for me, please?"

"I'm not turning down six grand!" she had replied...

Now she was heading up the lane where leafy trees bowed over and met as if to kiss and sunlight dappled the ground. Finally she spotted a turn off that led down a dirt track and as she went through an open gateway she looked down the long driveway and saw at the end of it a small cottage, painted white with roses in the front garden. There was a signpost close by that said Lavender Cottage, and she breathed a relieved sigh.

"Finally!" she exclaimed, then she headed for the cottage, her bag weighing heavy, as she prepared to enter the house and meet Mr Graves for the first time...

The key was under the mat. She let herself into the house quietly, closing the door softly as the clock in the hallway chimed the hours and the smell of wood polish filled the air. The place was old and quaint with rose patterned walls and old polished flooring. She left her bag in the hallway and walked up past open doors to a front room where the velvet drapes were a shade of green and matched the rug that covered most of the floor. There was an open fire but she noticed a TV and on glancing around saw radiators behind covers that blended in with the woodwork, and guessed this old place had been modernised, so behind the leaded windows and the old exterior, it was certainly up to date... she passed a dining room and a down stairs bathroom, a small study and then went into a white and fully fitted modern kitchen. She left the kitchen and went back up the hall were she lingered at the bottom of the stairway.

"Mr Graves?" she said softly, but heard no reply, so she quietly made her way up the stairs.

As she reached the top, a floor board creaked loudly and she quickly stepped off it, keen not to wake him while he was resting. A door was open to a bedroom with pale floral wallpaper and a pale pink carpet, in there was a single bed and pine furniture and the window was open, letting in the scent of roses as the summer breeze shifted the nets. She realised this was the guest bedroom. The room at the end of the hall was a bathroom, no doubt at some stage it had been a third bedroom but due to its small size and convenience, it had been turned into an avocado bathroom suite with bath and shower unit. That left one room, the master bedroom, and the door was closed...

Karen approached it quietly, turning the handle and giving the door a gentle push. In here the room was in shades of blue, with drapes tied back around a four poster bed in a shade of sapphire that matched the curtains at the window. The furniture was polished oak and looked old. A large rug covered most of the room and there was a dresser and wardrobe and the window was also open in here, carrying garden scents through it on a warm breeze.

Finally she laid eyes on the man in the bed. He was on his back, eyes closed, breathing softly as he slept, his hair was dark and at the sides where it was shorter, a contrasting steel grey. He was quite possibly the most handsome man she had ever seen, that was her first thought as she stepped a little closer and her heart skipped a beat. He was still sleeping, wearing blue cotton pajamas and with white sheets pulled up to his waist. A red dressing gown was draped over a chair by the dresser, a cane was propped up beside it. The table next to the bed was scattered with medications. She went over and checked the labels and found them to be painkillers of varying strengths – clearly, he was not over his injuries yet and his pain levels fluctuated.

Her gaze wandered back to his face. She noticed a deep, jagged scar above his left eye that ran across his brow and into his temple and finished somewhere behind his hairline. She could see no other visible traces of injury or scars and she thought again about his accident – and wondered exactly what had happened to him, to suffer injuries so terrible. She didn't doubt he couldn't remember. Maybe it was a hit and run, or a fall from a height -but a ninety mile an hour collision? Those kind of injuries were rarely survivable...

She caught sight of a folded note on the dresser, beneath it was a brown folder. She picked up the note and began to read, recognising Paula's handwriting at once:

Hi Karen! Thanks for doing this for me, it means a lot! And I'm sure the money will be useful too. I wanted this job so much because the pay was good but this is probably the only chance I'll ever get for a free dream cruise – its the holiday of a lifetime. You'll like Percy, when you get to know him! Thanks again, love Paula – PS – His medical notes are in the envelope in case you need them, it might be worth taking a look – you won't believe what this guy has been through.

She put down the note and picked up the envelope, walking over to the window and then taking out the notes. She glanced through them, feeling more than a little sympathy for her patient. He had been found on a beach, at the foot of a cliff, and was thought to have fallen. But his injuries had been compared to a high speed collision. She glanced back at him, saw he was still sleeping and read on and the catalogue of injuries he had survived was astonishing: multiple broken and fractured bones, a head injury requiring surgery, a spinal injury, surgeries to pin bones...the list went on. He had been placed in a coma for three months after the accident to give him a chance of recovery, but his chances of a full recovery had been slim.

She saw the notes that mentioned brain damage and memory loss and confusion and put the notes back in the envelope, left them where she had found them and went back over to his bedside feeling sad for the handsome man who was sleeping and currently oblivious to all the harm he had suffered and the damage it had left him with.

Then as she stood over him, he seemed to sense he was not alone. He slowly opened his eyes and she looked into the darkest, deepest gaze she had ever seen and again her heart missed a beat.

Percival Graves looked up at the woman in confusion.

"You're not Paula."

"No, she had to go away, do you remember her telling you that? I'm Karen. I'm her replacement."

He blinked, his foggy memory trying to adjust as yet again he felt lost in a haze of confusion that dogged his mind.

"I think she said something...about something...he struggled to recall the exact details but then his struggle was gone as he was distracted by the woman who stood at his bedside, his gaze wandered over her curves, the way her dress clung to her body, her legs looked shapely in black fishnets and by the time he looked up to her face once more and thought how pretty she was – for a No-Maj, in a future time and place where he did not belong – he could not help but briefly smile.

"Pleasure to meet you...I'm sorry I forgot your name -"

"Karen," she replied, "And there's no need to apologise."

Suddenly the warmth was gone from his eyes, replaced by a strangely deep and almost ancient wisdom as he thought on matters she could not fathom.

"There's every need," he replied, "I owe apologies to many - I'm far from home...I should be in New York, I have a job to get back to...but it's so far away now."

He made a move to get up and as she offered to help he shook his head, she caught the determined look in his eyes and guessed he hadn't got this far without it, so she stepped back and he sat up, pain briefly registering on his face before he grabbed his pillows and hastily pushed them upwards, then lent against them, cushioning his back.

"Do you need anything?" she asked, "I'm here to help."

Pain flickered down his spine and he leant back heavier against the pillows.

"You may sit down and tell me about yourself. If I forget I can only apologise again. I'm not used to life here – or like this. I think perhaps I never will be."

He gestured to the edge of the bed and she sat down, glanced at him and then smiled, hoping it didn't show to much that her face was flushing. She was heavily attracted to him, there was no denying it, and she felt ever so slightly guilty for acknowledging that fact when he was clearly still vulnerable.

"Well... I'm working for the same agency as Paula, she's my best friend and like her I'm a qualified nurse."

"Tell me the rest, Miss Trent."

She felt more than a little startled, feeling sure she had not mentioned her second name – unless Paula had told him , that could be the only explanation... All the same, she got the oddest feeling, as if he might be used to questioning people...

"There's not much to tell. I like the countryside, I was hoping for a break at the beach this year but then plans changed – I do like it here, though. The cottage is lovely. Have you lived here long, Mr Graves?"

"No," he replied, "Only since my recovery started. I don't recall buying this place at all. I don't even remember where the money came from to pay for my care. I have a lot of blank spaces, but I'm sure those recollections will come back. I just need time."

He had spoken with confidence and she had caught an air of authority about his tone.

"What did you do before the accident?" she asked.

His eyes darkened, his memory whispering back to a painful time he usually only visited in nightmares, the force of the energy blast hitting him and burning to death those around him, waking on the ground, his body a blur of pain as Grindlewald stood over him...

"What accident?" he demanded.

In that moment she could not define the haunted expression in his eyes that reflected so much from pain to deepest rage, then he blinked and it was gone.

"I mean... when you got hurt. Do you remember what happened?"

he looked at her sharply as his mind flickered with flashbacks and his own screams of pain as he suffered and Grindlewald's hands.

"I ask the questions," he said in a hushed voice, "Please don't try my patience again."

That look was back, it almost physically pushed her away as she saw something dark and almost powerful glimmering deep in his eyes. Then it faded and he blinked, mentally shrugging off all that a non magical person could not understand. The girls name was gone from his damaged memory again, and he felt bad for her, he wanted apologise again, but he could not recall her name...again.

"Forgive me," he said, "I'm still recovering. I'm not always good company. Perhaps you should leave me to sleep."

"Of course,"she replied, getting up and stepping back from the bed. He glanced at her again, his gaze wandering over her curves as he wished he would stop looking at a No-Maj in that way – but it had been months and there had been much pain and this woman was making him harden in a place where he had once feared he would never know such feelings again. She was turning him on, the sensation was vague, but he was thankful of its presence, yet another reassurance that his body was still healing even if his mind was stuffed with memories of his torture, memories that refused to leave him in peace.

"Just call if you need me," Karen said, then she left the room.

As the door closed home suddenly seemed too far away as Percy Graves thought of his life and his job and everything that was back in New York in 1926... The magical realm was gone from his grasp, as sure as his wand was absent. He couldn't even pull up a spark of power or cast the smallest of spells, his body was weak and he hated himself for it.

Now he was alone he turned his face to the window, blinking away tears pride refused to allow him to share with another living soul as he quietly mourned the loss of the man he once was, who he feared he would never be again...