The Downfall of Gellert Grindelwald

By theanonymouslibrians

Note: Don't own Fantastic Beasts. This is a soulmate au, companion fic to Thanks for the Memories.

Graves flinched as another bolt of lightning rent the sky. The boat itself was safe. He'd enchanted it to bear up against the elements and the water, and it steered itself, which was good because he didn't know the first thing about sailing. Graves hoped that lapse of knowledge would help him escape detection long enough so that the boat could get within apparation distance of Europe. He called it a boat, but really it was little more than a canoe with a roof. No passenger boats had left America in over a month. Not since Grindelwald had taken over.

Just thinking about the self-proclaimed ruler of America made Graves spasm, and he had to fill his head with other faces. Newt. Tina. Theseus. Gell-NO! Graves plunged a hand over the side of the boat and into the ice cold water. When all he could think about was getting warm, the former auror pulled it out again and cradled it against his chest.

It had been like this the first time. When M.A.C.U.S.A had rescued him, after he'd spent almost a year in his soulmate's presence, it had been like going into withdrawal. Not that he'd told anyone that was the reason for him having panic attacks every fifteen minutes or so. Everyone had assumed it was a result of some form of torture. The truth, Graves sometimes thought, was worse. Despite hating everything the man stood for. Despite not being able to go a single day without having some form of argument with the man. Graves' had become dependent on being near his soulmate, Gellert Grindelwald.

….

Graves dove behind a sofa, a jet of red light hitting the wall behind him. The duel had been in progress for over an hour with neither him nor Grindelwald gaining the high ground. For some reason, it was harder than usual for Graves to fire combative spells. There was a sense of remorse that hit him every time one of his spells made contact with Grindelwald, and he felt the urge to stop fighting. Percival's wand wasn't cooperating either. His spells seemed to be less powerful than usual, and no matter how clear a shot he had, his aim was almost always slightly off. Grindelwald must have fired some type of jinx, but Graves wasn't familiar with it. Luckily, Grindelwald didn't seem to be aiming to kill or even seriously harm. Few of the curses had hit Graves, and the ones that had hadn't hurt him much.

Judging by the fact that none of the aurors on his team had shown up, Graves guessed that none of his patronuses had made it out of the room, and that a silencing charm had been cast . He could break it if he had more than a few seconds to breathe, but Grindelwald would be on him soon. So he was alone in this. He took a deep breath and threw himself over the edge of the sofa, firing a volley of stunning spells at the room in front of him, hoping at least one would hit Grindelwald.

But the man was nowhere in sight. Frowning, Graves took a step forward, eyes scanning the room. There was nowhere to hide. Unless Grindelwald ducked into the bedroom, but—a hand closed around his wrist, twisting it until Graves was forced to drop his wand. He was whirled around to face Grindelwald. A burning sensation started on Percival's back. Was Grindelwald doing something to his spine? Or his skin?

"You've proven a much more difficult opponent than I originally planned for. You'll have to tell me how you managed to get my wand to shoot off course. But I'm afraid it's time our duel's come to an end."

Grindelwald was breathing heavily, Graves noted with a certain sense of satisfaction. If he was going to die, at least he had given the other man a run for his money. It was odd, but as Grindelwald pressed the tip of his wand to Percival's temple, Graves had never felt safer.

…..

When he woke up, it was to his shirt being ripped from his torso. Graves tried to push his attacker away, but his hands were yanked away by invisible ropes, pulling them out to his sides. A finger stroked a place between his shoulder blades and then he was unceremoniously pushed forwards and his hands released. He turned to see Grindelwald staring at him, panic and rage mingled on his face.

"The hell-"

"Did you know?" The other wizard asked in an accusing tone.

And there's a hundred different things Graves should be trying to do right now, but all he could do was ask, "What?"

They were in a spartan looking room, whose only furniture was a bed and a lamp. There were two doors (both of which Graves was sure were locked). Grindelwald stood in front of him, dressed only in a pair of black trousers, and looking at Graves as if the director had murdered the man's whole family.

"Did. You. Know?" Grindelwald asked again, his fury clearly increasing.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Percival took a step back. This wasn't the rather smug man that had greeted him on Graves' return to the hotel room. Now, Grindelwald seemed almost unhinged, and Graves had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to have done.

"This!" Hissing, Grindelwald turned around to face the other wall.

"What is that supposed to-"

"The mark you dimwit!" Grindelwald roared.

Graves looked at Grindelwald's back and noticed a small crescent moon shaped scar right on man's ight shoulder. "I don't understand. Look, my team-"

The man turned swiftly to face him. "It's a soulmark and you have one, too. In the same place. Mine wasn't there before tonight, and I'm guessing yours wasn't either." He threw the words at Graves like an accusation, as if Graves was behind the situation and had planned it all along.

A sickening feeling took hold of Percival as he absorbs Grindelwald's words. "That's…it's a lie… you-"

The soulmate phenomena was uncommon but not so much as to be rare. About one in every twenty people had someone with whom they felt an undeniable bond. Or at least that was what healers thought. Since the marks and effects only appeared once the person had met his or her so-called soulmate and some people probably didn't report their discovery, for all they knew everyone could have a soulmate and just not know it. Sometimes the bond was romantic, other times platonic. The pair simply couldn't imagine life without each other. Each relationship was different and Graves hadn't researched it well enough to fully understand the phenomena, but he knew that he didn't want to be Gellert Grindelwald's soulmate.

Grindelwald waved a hand at the wall behind Graves, and Percival glanced over his shoulder to see that it had been transformed into a mirror. He could see a matching mark on his own shoulder that hadn't been there before.

He wanted to believe that this was some trick. That Grindelwald had done this. That he was trying to play some kind of game with Percival. But Graves remembered how he had been unable to successfully curse or jinx the other man and how Grindelwald had mentioned Graves doing something to his wand. In any case, the man's rage was so genuine that Percival knew that he couldn't be lying.

Swallowing hard, he steeled himself. "Do you think I want this? You're a fucking serial killer for Merlin's sake! You're deranged!" Graves shouted.

Grindelwald raised his wand, "Cru…" But stopped and instead shot off a jet of light at the mirror, shattering it and revealing a brick wall behind it.

Graves supposed he was lucky that the bond would keep him from being tortured, but he couldn't bring himself to feel grateful. "So that's how you deal with your enemies? They speak back to you and you torture them? For all your talk about lifting wizards out of 'bondage' what you really mean is putting everyone under your control. If you think-"

"Enough!" Graves was pushed backwards, but the spell was weak. No stronger than a shove. Grindelwald cursed and started to pace back and forth. "You…" But he broke off and shook his head.

"If you honestly-"

"This changes nothing. You're still my prisoner."

"And you can't hurt me. Not much anyway."

"We'll see." It was a weak retort, but Grindelwald disapparated before Graves could respond.

Sighing, Graves sat down on the bed. He'd try finding a way out later (not that he wasn't sure it would prove useless). Just then though, he felt like crying.

That night, when he fell asleep, he had the strangest dream. He was sitting in the kitchen of his hotel room, a glass of vodka in his hand. Across from him sat a high-ranking member of Grindelwald's band of followers, Selwyn.

"So it went well then?" The other wizard said

When Graves answered, his voice wasn't his own. "It could have gone better." He stared into the glass, not ready to meet the other's eyes.

"Was he badly injured? Sent off a warning?"

"Not quite." He swished the vodka around before tossing it back into his throat and reaching for the bottle.

"Well?" Selwyn's voice sounded impatient. "What happened?"

"It turns out…the director and I are soulmates."

Silence hung between them and Graves continued to study the lovely liquid in his glass. Neither spoke for several seconds until…Selwyn gave a bark of laughter, and Graves looked up with a glare. If the man wasn't a valuable ally he'd consider cursing him on the spot. Come to think of it, a stinging hex wouldn't do too much damage and it would shut the man up…

"I don't see what's amusing." Graves said cooly, again in another man's voice.

"Well...I…I suppose it isn't." Selwyn got himself under control, but still punctuated his words with the occasional chuckle. "Only it's ironic, isn't it? I mean the man you're becoming ends up being the one you're bound too?"

"Yes." Graves downed the drink, considered pouring another one, then set the glass down instead. He waved a wand that also wasn't his own, and vanished the bottle, enjoying the frown on his…no Grindelwald's follower's face. "The irony hasn't escaped me. But the fact remains it's a problem. After all-"

"Oh, I don't see how that is."

"I can't hurt the man, so how-"

"Well, have you considered that this is a gift?" Selwyn shook his head. "Graves is predisposed to like you!"

"He doesn't-"

"I know he doesn't now. But biologically, it'll be harder for him to fight you. Treat him well and he'll open up. You won't need to torture information out of him."

Graves sighed. "I suppose you're right. But I don't like it. I don't want a soulmate."

Selwyn shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "Well, I don't want to listen to you mope all night, but looks like we're both out of luck."

And then the dream shifted and Graves was dreaming that Madame Picquery had sent him overseas to Zonkos and that it was imperative that he buy a fanged frisbee, only they're sold out.

…..

A hand was gently stroking his cheek and Percival sighed as he leaned into the touch. Then he remembered that he'd lain down alone and he jerked backwards, opening his eyes. Gellert didn't rise from his spot on the edge of the bed, but he frowned at Percival. They weren't in the...Graves stopped himself before he could think of the word. Who knew how much access to his thoughts Gellert had here? They also weren't in his or Gellert's bedroom back in America. The room actually looked similar to his office, but with bedroom furniture added.

"You're upset with me." Gellert had the nerve to sound both saddened and surprised.

"Yes!" Percival hissed, glancing around for something to jolt him. He had to wake up. Had to wake up. The longer he was asleep the easier it would be for Gellert to ferret out his location.

"Why? You didn't say-"

"Well, I couldn't could I? You don't like it when I complain." No water. No fire. He rose to his feet and moved to his desk. If its contents were anything like his actual desk...

"I suppose I can be...insensitive." Gellert admitted, his tone almost contrite, but Graves wasn't fooled. The only time Gellert apologized was when he had something to gain from it. "But I never meant to make you this upset. Come; sit down. We can talk about this."

"You don't want to hear anything I have to say, Gellert. Not unless it tells you where I am."

Come on, come on! Percival tore through the drawers, tossing papers aside. None of this looked like his things. But this was his dream...if he focused hard enough...

"Now, that's just not true!" Gellert's voice was closer now, and Graves glanced over his shoulder to see the man walking toward him. "You know how much I care for you! You're my soulmate!"

Finally, Percival's hand closed around what he was looking for and he stood, turning to face the other man. Graves looked into Gellert's eyes, wishing he could believe that they could work this out. That all Grindelwald had needed was the shock of his soulmate leaving him to make him listen. But he couldn't take that risk.

He smiled sadly. "But you don't want a soulmate, Gellert, do you? You want a pet." And then he jammed the letter opener into his thigh.

…..

Percival woke up howling, the pain carrying into the waking world. He tore his pants off, certain the wound would be there as well, but it wasn't. These dreams...these visits...they were always particularly vivid. Night had fallen and the storm had finally stopped. The uneasy feeling that came whenever he and Gellert were apart was increasing. It would never entirely leave, although it would get better over time. He and Grindelwald had scarcely been apart for about a month; it had been two days since he'd last seen the other wizard, apart from the dream. And this wasn't a routine absence, like when Gellert had business to attend to. His body sensed that this was intended to be a longer, possibly permanent absence and it was rebelling against his decision. There was nothing to do but to wait it out and let himself adjust.