A/N: Written for Day 17 of August 2018's Romance Awareness.
Day 17 - The first time you touch your soulmate (shake hands, brush skin, whatever) you're forced to relive the best and/or worst day of their lives.
Obviously, I went with worse. Also, I've messed with the dates slightly to put this fic in the Victorian period. As a consequence, I spent a good hour reading about Victorian tattoos - although whilst fascinating, none of that research will be in this fic.
Word Count: 1,467
the elephant in the room
Percival stared into the mirror, his heart pounding.
"This is not happening," he told himself firmly. He could feel the walls around him. He could taste the potion on his tongue, the one that made it difficult to move, difficult to keep his eyes open. Gripping the sink tighter, he forced himself to turn on the taps and move, sticking his hands under the water in an attempt to orientate himself. When the basin had filled, he stuck his head in until his lungs ached from lack of oxygen.
"It's the first of March, 1894," he told himself firmly. "You are Percival Graves, Auror and an integral part of MACUSA. You are on work leave for another week and today, you're going to do something reckless."
For many people, it wouldn't have been reckless, but Percival had always liked to plan, research and then organise a little more. He had decided to get a tattoo two weeks ago and since there was only one wizarding tattoo parlour in New York, rumoured to be the first in North America, he hadn't had much reason to hit the streets and do his homework.
The first person who had told him about it had been someone he'd arrested for smuggling contraband into the country. Percival had been extremely surprised when there had suddenly been a shark leaping up from under the man's shirt, the animal moving over his exposed shoulder and neck towards where Percival was holding him, then disappearing back under his clothes. Even though it was a 2D image, flat against the criminal's skin, it had felt lifelike and he had been annoyed when he'd jumped. The criminal had simply laughed and told him about 'Fantastic Beasts' as it was colloquially known.
The title was longer than that, but everyone he'd talked too had mispronounced it in some way.
Even as he was walking through the city - he preferred to walk now instead of apparate, he liked to breathe in the cool air. It made him feel alive. - Percival wasn't sure exactly why he wanted a tattoo. All he knew was that he certainly wasn't immortal. He had been trapped, tortured for information by Grindelwald and whilst everyone had been quick to help him get back on his feet, Graves kept remembering just how many regrets had flashed through his mind when he'd been so certain he was going to die.
The building was small, unassuming really in comparison to the bright and busy shops around it. Graves checked the sign above the door, attempted to peer through the dusty windows and reminded himself that he was an accomplished Auror before he went into the shop. A bell above the door jingled lightly and a young man looked up as he entered.
"Good morning, how are you today?" The accent wasn't American but crisp British and the smile that was on his face seemed genuine, something that Graves wasn't all that accustomed too in his life both as a man of the law and as someone who lived in the bustling city of New York.
"Fine, thanks. I'm here to get a tattoo. Do I need to book now or...?"
"Actually, I've got a free afternoon. If you want, we can do it right now."
He nodded, unwilling to show his nerves and the man smiled warmly.
"Well excellent. My name is Newt, I'll be your tattoo artist and I own the shop. May I ask your name?"
"Percival Graves."
Newt waved his wand at the door and Graves turned to see a sign marked with CLOSED floated across to the one clean pane of glass.
"Come with me then Percival and we'll get you settled."
The walls were adorned with art. The pictures moved but even to Percival, they seemed more alive than he was used too. Newt talked as he settled Graves into a comfortable chair which tilted back and extended, explaining about how he had learnt his trade by travelling all over the world after he'd left school. He watched as Newt rolled up his sleeves and put some gloves on, displaying tanned skin the colour of cinnamon. He had a light laugh which seemed to make the world around him brighter.
"My speciality is in animals, Mr Graves but I can tattoo anything you'd like. The ink, being magical, does often have a will of its own but I guarantee that you will be happy with the end result."
"I'd like an elephant," Percival said and then he found himself continuing, compelled by Newt's soft smile and understanding eyes. "My Patronus is an elephant. I've recently been through some... I don't think it'll be a spell I'll be able to cast again soon, or ever. I just want to remember the times before when... when happiness felt easy."
He should have felt exposed, vulnerable after divulging so much of his personal life to a complete stranger. Instead, Percival felt lighter somehow. All Newt did was nod to himself.
"I completely understand. Would you like a potion for the pain?"
That made Percival smile, ever so slightly.
"No. I can handle pain."
Compared to what he had been through before, it did not hurt. It felt like heat on his upper arm but nothing more serious. He was captivated by how Newt smelt, by the way in which his brow furrowed as he concentrated and still he talked to Percival, telling him of adventures in places Graves had never heard of. In turn, Percival eventually lost some of his stoic attitudes and spoke of his life as an Auror, and how he was looking forward to things going back to normal after a period of turmoil in his life.
Several hours went by.
Newt stretched when he was finished, rolling his neck back and forth to ease some of the stiffness. He discarded the gloves he had put on, and then conjured a mirror with an intricate wave of his wand.
Graves braced himself for disappointment and instead had to blink back emotion which threatened to spill down his cheeks. The elephant raised it's trunk, flapping one ear. It was pearly white, wispy around the edges and the exact image of his Patronus.
"Thank you," Graves said, his voice thick with words he could never say aloud. Newt seemed to understand and he reached a hand out for Graves to take, to help him to his feet.
Everything went black as their hands touched.
He was outside a castle, being escorted by a number of official looking witches and wizards.
"Newton Scamander. You are hereby expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You will not be allowed to enter the grounds of Hogwarts without express permission from the Headmaster and even then, you will be under constant supervision." The wizard who spoke turned away and then a witch came forward, disappointment written across her face.
"I'm so disappointed, Newt."
The memory continued and Graves could feel the guilt welling up inside of him, shame hot on his skin.
Abruptly he blinked and was back in the tattoo parlour. Newt was still holding his hand, his grip tight on Percival's but his skin was pale, freckles stark against it.
"Percival you..."
Graves got to his feet, worried that the young man was about to be sick. They swapped positions so that Newt was the one sitting down and he tried to organise his thoughts quickly, compartmentalising the emotions he was feeling.
"Newt, are you okay?"
"That cell you were in... it wasn't even a cell, it was a hole in the ground. It was just darkness! How did you survive!" Newt said breathlessly, his voice high with panic.
"I did survive. You survived as well and you're not there now. It is not happening," he said, repeating the words he'd told himself that morning.
Eventually, Newt breathed slower and Graves slowly sat next to him, content to remain in silence. He did not want to discuss what had happened. He did not want to acknowledge what it meant. It had never been of particular concern to him, how some people found their soulmates. Graves had long been assured that he would never have one and as he'd grown older and see the world full of darkness and horror, he had preferred it that way.
Staring down at his hands resting in his lap, Graves watched as an elephant walked down the inside of his wrist and wrapped its trunk around the base of his thumb. Newt didn't say anything but placed his hand on his and silently, Graves turned his palm upwards, intertwining their fingers. He had preferred to be alone but as the elephant wandered across his skin, he tightened his grip on Newt and wondered in maybe, happiness wasn't far out of reach.
A/N: Other prompts and challenges:
Chocolate Frog Cards - (Bronze) Josiah Jackson: Write about an Auror.
Character Appreciation: 20. Career: Ministry Worker
Disney Challenge: T4. Write about someone realising that happiness comes from within. Alternatively, write about someone relying on somebody else to make them happy.
Showtime: 7. (au) Victorian
Amber's Attic: G4. Write a tattoo artist!au (5 bonus points)
Lyric Alley: 7. But I won't let them break me down to dust
Sophie's Shelf: Newt/Graves (other era, rare pairs)
Em's Emporium: 5. write about a survivor.
Angle's Arcade: 12. (occupation) cop/auror, (plot point) catching something/someone, (dialogue) "This is not happening."
Lo's Lowdown: Q5. "Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all." - Emily Dickinson
Bex's Bazaar: B1. Write about someone having an elephant patronus.
Days of the Year: Work-a-holics Day: Write about someone who spends too much time at work.
Summer Prompts: 5. (word) Heat
Colour Prompts: Cinnamon
Element Prompts: 1. Write about someone who always tries to be a hero.
Shay's Musical Challenge: 15. The Great Comet of 1812 - write about someone not sure where their life is going
