Evil isn't born, it's made
Chapter One: Looking for Redemption
Nine years had passed since Percival Graves found himself freed from the cage Grindelwald had put him in. Nine years of hard work to make up for the one mistake he had committed as Head of Law Enforcement – he had lost against the famous Dark Wizard and had been held captive for several months. It shouldn't have happened, he was a talented duellist, always vigilant…but that day had been a hard one for him.
Tina Goldstein had been fired for attacking a No-maj and even if it was against the law, Graves too had wished to kill that old woman in order to free her children from her vile education. But with Goldstein off the case and a ban preventing interaction with the people of the New Salem Philanthropic Society, Graves had known he'd have a lot to do to help Credence and Charity escape their adopted Mother. It was while he was thinking about all these new elements to the case that had been knocked out by someone just behind him, incapable of seeing his aggressor. He had woken up in what would be his jail for eight months. Eight months during which he had been impersonated by the wizard who attacked him without anyone noticing. Was he so easy to imitate? Was he as cold and indifferent as his abductor for Grindelwald to confound people so easily?
Once freed, he had spent one month at his flat refusing any visitors except for those who came to nurse him. During that time he had done nothing but think about his imprisonment, about how to act now that he had been out of the game for so long; would he be able to do his job correctly? He did not even know if he was still the same person as he had been before.
As soon as he got back to work, he had asked what Grindelwald had done while impersonating him. At first, people were reluctant to tell him exactly what had been done in his name, and he could see a lot of them eyeing him suspiciously, as if he was going to strike them with a spell at any moment. Fortunately, he came across Queenie Goldstein who, seeing his troubled mind, decided to invite him for dinner with her and her sister in order to recount to him what had occurred during his captivity.
He was grateful they had agreed to show him their memories, but at the same time, the knowledge came as a heavy burden on his shoulders; people had died, the Wizarding World had almost been discovered by the No-maj and worst of all, Credence Barebone had been consumed by his magic because Grindelwald had been determined to keep fighting Scamander, causing the unstable teen to panic – a lethal state of mind for an Obscurial.
To Hell with those who said Graves was innocent in all of this – yes he had been trapped and incapable of escaping, but if only he had been a better Wizard, the boy would still be alive. Now, nine years later, he could not forget; the image of the young boy was always behind his eyelids when he closed them. That was the reason for all the articles from both the No-maj and Wizarding newspapers were spread all over his desk. Because he might have found another Obscurial – another innocent child like Credence had been, one who was suffering either from the hatred of other people, or the fear of his own powers. Graves could not let this one go without saving him. He had failed once…if he failed a second time, he would never forgive himself. No wizard or witch deserved to be punished for being who they were. Graves was ready to travel the world if it would help this child escape a cruel end.
Most of the newspaper articles were about events in the United Kingdom – huge waves that caused severe damage, several roads ripped open by an invisible force, more and more frequent storms on the south coast of the island…and a boy who had been rescued from a snowstorm on a beach by a woman. He had been alone there, at the heart of the tempest before she got to him – alone and terrified. There was a possibility that this boy was an Obscurial, or at least the victim of one. But Graves had not heard of anyone with that much power for a while – even Credence's crisis had not had an impact on the weather. Maybe he was wrong…maybe it was something else that had caused all of this, but once again, the boy. Graves had a gut feeling…
The first thing was to move to Great Britain – and for that he would have to convince Mrs Picquery to let him be the liaison between England and the United States. But it was going to be far from easy; MACUSA's foreign policy was extremely isolationist. Convincing Picquery of the necessity of an alliance, for a reason other than the breaking of the International Statute of Secrecy, would surely require a lot of persuasion, especially considering the troubled history between England and America.
As for moving to Great Britain…Grindelwald was in that area; it would be a good opportunity to help track him down. But Graves' superiors might not let him go – Grindelwald had fooled him once and going after the man would probably be seen as a foolish act. And surely, they would not want him to leave and help an English child instead of pursuing his career with MACUSA.
Percival stood from his desk and looked down at the many papers spread across it. The images were moving, showing the damage caused by the storms and the other incidents; while some showed the results of Grindelwald's activities…he had to do something, and to hell with what people might think of him! He clenched his fists, pain and anger flashing through his mind. He was not prey, he was not afraid of the Dark Wizard; he would save this child. He was not a coward who desired nothing more than to sit on his ass all day long. No, he had to act and no one would get in his way. He took a quick glance at the mirror, rearranged his robes, gathered his papers and left his office in order to find the President.
While walking through the long corridors to reach the elevator Percival took note of the changes that had happened within his mind since he had been freed. No longer was he the proud and oh-so-sure-of-himself Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement – he did not bark orders to his Aurors anymore and he was not able to give his trust as easily as before; he had started to reject help of any kind. Now he was even more distant when addressed and barely spoke to the people around him. Not out of fear, but more from a feeling of weariness – weariness of being in the same place for years, of having to talk to the same people who were unable to understand that a war was coming in the No-maj world and that it might affect the Wizarding world. He felt useless and alone, no matter that it was due to his own attitude of rejection toward others. If a war was starting, should he not do something?
"Where does Mr Graves want to go?" an Elf asked with the respect due to people in the highest ranks of MACUSA. To the Wizard it sounded like the infuriating screech of a nail against metal, sharp and unpleasant.
"Floor 50," he answered in a low and cold voice.
There were just nine floors between him and his goal and maybe, between him and the beginning of a new life…if only his superior would choose to grant his request. He needed this chance to start again.
"We are at the floor you asked for Sir," the elf announced in his high, shrill voice. Graves gritted his teeth together but said nothing. He exited the lift and went to the carved door at the end of the corridor. He came to a stand in front of the wood and placed his palm against it, feeling the wards tickling his skin.
"Percival Graves. In secrecy we prosper," the door intoned as the wards recognised him. He listened to the clinking as the door unlocked and then pushed it open slowly. He took a deep breath and donned a mask of strong will and coldness.
He entered the great room – it was almost empty except for the books in the bookshelves and the large desk covered with papers. The marble walls gave off an atmosphere of affectation, but also of coldness. Picquery was seated behind her desk, her black eyes fixed on him.
"Mr Graves, to what do I owe the pleasure?" she asked.
Graves bowed his head slightly in a sign of respect, offering nothing more, standing tall in front of her, his mask of detachment firmly in place. He was here to ask her something and was ready to do whatever it would take to obtain what he wanted.
"Madam President, I've come to you hoping you would respond favourably to my request." His voice seemed to echo in the large space between them. She arched an eyebrow, inviting him to continue. Anyone else might have been unnerved by her silence, but Graves knew she liked him enough to hear him out. "Madam, after the events of nine years ago with Mr Scamander, the subsequent arrest of Grindelwald and his escape two years later, I think it might be useful to form an alliance between ourselves and the Ministry of Magic in England," Graves said calmly, observing his superior's reactions.
Her face seemed to darken at the mention of Grindelwald – his escape and the fact that he had fooled her was a great torment to her mind.
"Don't tell me you want to chase after Grindelwald," she said in what sounded like a growl. He didn't flinch, firm in his conviction. He clasped his hands behind his back and looked at her with intensity. He had expected this assumption, he knew that everyone thought he would one day go after the dark wizard and hunt him down to make him pay for what he had done. Truthfully, he could not deny that the idea had merit, but his job and taking care of his health, seeing to the recovery of his mind, had been more important to him the past few years than chasing after a shadow. He just had to wait for the other man to make a mistake, and then Graves would act.
"No, I don't. But I think that war in the No-maj world may soon break out and it could have great consequences for the wizarding world if we do nothing. I dare say, a real alliance with Great Britain could be very good for us. They are closer to the rest of Europe and know the No-majs better than we do, and they know a lot more about Grindelwald's goals. We only have to look at Scamander to see how much it could profit us to co-operate with them."
Anger flashed in her eyes but she remained in her seat, placing her right hand on the desk. She looked like an eagle ready to swoop down on her prey, but it left Graves completely indifferent. "Wars in Europe, and furthermore, in the No-maj world, are not our concern. You are the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, the Head of our Auror Corps, you are to stay here. International Relations are not something you have to worry about Mr Graves."
He took a step toward her, his long black coat swirling behind him, his eyes darkening as he felt anger filling his veins. Maybe he was under her command but he was definitely master of his own convictions and if he wanted to go, he would. He was only here in the hope of having an official licence to be in the United Kingdom, but he could manage without it; the child needed help, the European wizarding communities needed help. "So we just stand here and let the slaughter begin, without moving our asses from this place? Do you know why Grindelwald was able to invade our society so easily? Because we believe what the media tells us, we are not given precious information on his activities. International co-operation is necessary if we want to protect our community and to progress."
He paused to let her ponder his words. Her whole body had tensed as she listened to him. Graves knew he was being reckless and pushing her to her limits; this woman craved secrecy and isolationism. He too had shared her ideas, but it seemed a long time ago to him. He had changed and could not stand this rejection of the rest of their world. He was not about to reveal his world to the wider No-maj community, but he also knew that there was one No-maj who had done his best to help the wizarding world (and had been forced to forget about everything – Graves could not deny that the laws preventing the No-maj from being with Queenie Goldstein were utterly stupid). Graves also knew that talking with strangers was a way to open one's mind, to learn and grow to be a better person.
"Are you aware of how insufferable your behaviour is Mr Graves? If I did not hold you in such high esteem, you would already have been fired. What do you really want to do in England?"
She was clever, something he appreciated about her. He raised his hand and all the articles he had found floated over to hover in front of the President's eyes – she looked at them carefully, seeming interested. He patiently allowed her the time to read. When she finished she looked up at him. "You are after another Obscurial, aren't you?" she said in a whisper which echoed in the marble room.
He nodded. "I was not able to save Credence…" he began, his voice low.
"It was not your fault!" she cut in quickly.
He calmly raised a hand, asking her silently not to interrupt him. He did not need her pity. He'd had time to think on the situation, and he knew perfectly well what part he had played in the horrors of that year. "It was. I need to find this one and save him. If you won't let me go and work for you in England, I will resign. I will leave America behind me and never return. I've come to a point in my life where I need to do that."
"But Mr Graves, you are aware, that if this boy really is an Obscurial, he will be hunted by Grindelwald. And even if he is lucky enough to escape, which I doubt, he will die."
He clenched his fists, fire in his veins and heart. Why was she being so pessimistic? Why did she continue to believe in the helplessness of men when they could do far more than they think if only someone believed in them? Graves had learnt the hard way that if people thought something was impossible, then they would not realise they could do it. He had thought he could not defeat Grindelwald, that it was impossible, and had made mistakes he normally would not have done. He had been beaten – Newt Scamander hadn't.
"I can save him and I will. Scamander was almost able to save the African girl. More than that, an Obscurial is a child who cannot accept themselves and their magic, causing them to develop extraordinary powers. If one could learn to love and use that magic, they may survive. And if Grindelwald comes, I will be there and I will protect the child. He learnt enough to impersonate me, but I have learnt one or two useful things about him."
She gazed at him, nodding almost imperceptibly. "I can see you won't change your mind. You've been a great Auror and to lose you will cause many problems but I understand. I will let you try and talk with the British Minister of Magic and see if we can have a partnership. If not, you will have to find a job yourself, and I won't help you with it. I suppose you have enough money to find a home?"
He nodded. He was glad she had agreed to let him go. It was the beginning of a new life for him.
He spent the rest of the day planning his departure with her. Soon, he would be in the United Kingdom. Soon, he would be at the child's side.