Well, so, this is the first time I've written any of these characters. I just...I just really needed ballet dancer Newt and movie star/actor Graves ok.
Reviews are always appreciated. Let me know how I'm doing.
X X X X
Logically, really, if he looked back on the words the lead dancer had told them, Newt should've known who certain famous people were and all that. He should've known what Percival Graves looked like, should've been able to pick out his prodigy in the crowd from a mile away.
But all he was really seeing was an adorable, shy young lad who wanted to pet one of his dogs. And of course Newt said yes, of course he told the boy the names of his dogs.
Later, he'd curse himself and bemoan his situation to his less than helpful friends.
For now, the boy looked so happy to be petting Pickett - a small brown dachshund with a green harness - and Newt couldn't give a damn about people taking pictures. Honestly, he thought they either recognized him from the few plays he'd been in or the shows he'd had a small role in. He still hadn't quite realized what was going on when the handsome man with the windswept hair stepped in to tell the young lad that they were going to be late.
The boy looked up from Frank - a large golden retriever interested in covering the boy's face in affectionate kisses - and nodded, looking quite put out. He stood, stopping once to pat both Pickett and Frank goodbye before mumbling a thank you to Newt.
The man he was with rolled his eyes, but there was a fondness amid the irritation.
"Come along Credence, we must hurry now."
Newt smiled and waved goodbye, gently tugging on his dogs' leash to get them walking again.
Later, after telling Queenie about his encounter (she just laughed and teased him about the handsome mystery man) he still didn't know what he was missing.
Even later, after watching "The Obscure" for the fifth time Newt still hadn't connected the dots. He did smile when he realized how much mystery man looked like the Edward in the film. It was rather uncanny.
X X X X
A few days later saw Newt Scamander sitting in an out of the way cafe, sipping earl grey tea and rapid fire texting with Tina about their upcoming show. The poor girl was worried about her final pose - she kept wobbling and they all needed to be perfect for the coda. On top of that, her new boyfriend had dumped her through a text.
In his lap he had Niffler, a small black terrier with an adorable pink nose and a golden colored harness and a bedazzled leash. The little dog was peering over the table, tiny nose twitching and ears perked up. Newt was wondering when he'd find the dog gone and stealing someone's purse or shoe.
Not long, apparently.
"Uh, excuse me, b-but your dog took my sandal..." Newt glanced up, words dying in his mouth when he saw the boy from a few days ago looking at him. He smiled and chuckled, pulling the pale blue sandal from Niffler's mouth.
"Sorry about that, he's my little thief. His name's Niffler, by the way. And I'm Newt."
"C-Credence." The boy took his sandal back and slid it on with the slightest of pink dusting his cheeks. He had shaky hands and looked nervous. Newt discreetly scanned the cafe for the man he'd been with, but not seeing him, turned to invite Credence to sit with him.
"A-are you sure?"
"Of course! You can hold Niffler for me, if Pickett liked you this guy will to."
By the time the mystery man walked into the cafe - salt and pepper hair messy like he'd just fought his way through a crowd - Newt had Credence in a fit of quiet giggles and he'd coaxed him into having a bit of tea.
The man's name was Percival and he found Newt's name incredibly amusing.
Or, at least that's what Credence said, shy and stuttering and hiding his face in Niffler's scruffy head.
Newt was on his way to the studio, ballet gear in a bag and a thermos of tea for Queenie in his hand, when he finally realized something; Percival had the same name as his favorite actor. He told Queenie this much, and later he emailed Jacob about it.
He went to bed before his friend could respond.
X X X X
In the end, it took witnessing Percival and Credence sneaking by a crowd of reporters with sunglasses and hat on just to slip into the theater for Newt to reconsider his thoughts over the week. He was kneeling on the sidelines, running his hands through Demiguise's silvery grey fur and leaning away from the saluki's friendly snout. He could see Credence taking a seat next to Percival, all bundled up in a grey sweater and black coat and scarf, face tinted red from the overly cooled theater. Percival, on the other hand, immediately shed his coat and popped open the first few buttons of his white dress shirt, grey scarf added to the pile of black fabric that was his coat.
"You know, you could just go talk to him instead of sitting here and staring." Newt jumped, nearly falling over, and he glared up at Queenie from where he knelt. He didn't notice when Demiguise attempted to slip away, only tightening his grip on her harness and clipping her leash back on. He'd take her out one last time before the show started.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. I was just..."
"Admiring the view? What's his name? He looks real handsome y'know..."
Newt sighed, unable to even feel annoyed by the blond's questions and overall nosiness. Just backstage, he could hear the other dancers getting ready, and from the corner of his eye he could see Tina fretting quietly with her phone in her hands and a book in her lap. He stood up, giving Queenie his "we-are-not-talking-about-this-anymore" look. She let him pass her with a pout, but flounced away once her sister called for her to get ready.
No one would ever get the male dancer to admit that, yes, maybe he had been admiring the view of Percival's neat hair and the confident way he held himself and the peek of skin he got to see when buttons were undone.
After putting Demiguise back in his dressing room (she was not happy, but at least she had Pickett to keep her company inside the room) Newt tugged on the black outfit and navy blue jacket all the male dancers would be wearing and attempted to fix his unruly hair. With one last glance at his dogs, he headed back to the stage, hurrying to take his starting position between Tina and a thin man who's name he was sure was Tom or Thomas something. The music started, slow and sensual and the heavy velvet curtains parted. They started smoothly, all en pointe and beautiful curved arms. Newt shifts into a pirouette, barely taking notice as his side follows suit, the women's chiffon skirts flowing like liquid black.
The jacket is heavy against his back, suffocating beneath the hot lights shining down on him, but a gentle breeze created by Tina's promenade has him ignoring the nearly unbearable heat. Halfway through the show, the dancers all do a pirouette en dedans to move closer as a group, the same time as the music lifts into something with a faint violin sound, and Newt finishes perfectly right beside Tina, one leg stretched forward with his toes barely grazing the floor and one hand resting lightly on Tina's waist, body twisted towards her and face tilted up in a pseudo scowl. Her arms are above her head, curved and beautiful and there's a soft smile on her face, peering up through her eyelashes and poised to make a move - whatever it might be is up to the viewers to imagine.
The curtains close and Tina falls right into his arms, making him laugh from surprise and slight fatigue. The other dancers share satisfied smiles and take their leave off stage. Newt wraps an arm around Tina and they walk into the side wings together, whispering softly about their performances as the skirt around everyone else. Newt spies Queenie on her phone, curled up with her water bottle and a blanket in the corner. A few other dancers copy her, and Tina, with an apology and an unsure smile, goes to sit with her sister.
Newt is fine with that and checks up on Demiguise and Pickett. The dogs, at least, are happy to see him, and he picks up Pickett's leash and clips it on to the little dog's harness. He toes off his ballet shoes and replaces them with a pair of beat up sneakers, and pulls off the navy coat before he goes outside. The air is cool on his face and his bare arms, and he would have stayed out longer, but he turns and finds Percival Graves himself looking down at him. Newt goes still, the peacefulness he'd just felt gone with a blink of soft brown eyes.
"Ah, e-excuse me..." Newt all but runs back inside, heart pounding in his chest and Pickett yipping at his heels. He drops the small dog off at his room and takes the time to grab a packet of crackers and a bottle of water.
He can't believe he hadn't made the connection before just then.
He can't believe he hadn't figured it out when people took pictures the first time.
He can't believe he treated a famous person like they weren't famous at all.
He can't believe he let said famous person's probable son pet his dogs!
Newt takes a deep breath and peers out through a sliver of space between the curtain and the wall of the stage. He can see Credence sitting alone, the seat next to him empty. Tina and Queenie try to pull him away from his spot, but he merely shakes his head and shoos them off with a wave of his hand. When he looks back out, Percival is in his seat and staring directly at him with a disarmingly soft expression.
When the show starts again, Newt stumbles on a spin and doesn't look at the crowd as he right himself gracefully and he and Tina come back together for the waltz scene.
He ignores the stare burning into his back.
He ignores the glimpse of white shirt he sees.
He ignores the terrible thumping of his heart and focuses instead on the warmth of Tina's hand and the way she dips down so prettily and comes back up smiling.
He tells himself that he can't think of Percival again. He promises to himself that he won't even acknowledge him.
Credence gives him roses at the end and stutters out a shy "congrats" with Percival standing behind him and Newt breaks his promise.