CHAPTER 2 – THE GREEN CLOVER.

"Have you lost your mind?!" I yell, grabbing him by the collar as the bricks are starting to move and form an arch to reveal the door to the Green Clover. "Do you have any idea what you're risking, using your wand right in the middle of New-York?!" He shakes his head, looking as frightened as a cornered wild animal. "Article 57-B of the American magical penal code: the use of wand is strictly forbidden in any area frequented by No-Majs except in self-defence and only if the degree of force used is not disproportionate," I recite. "So have a look around you and tell me, Mr Scamander, do you see anyone or anything likely to threaten your life?" It takes him a bit more time to shake his head and it hurts my feelings that he may consider me, even for a few seconds, as a potential threat. I release his collar.

"I thought you were the Director of Magical Security," he mumbles in a barely audible voice.

"I am," I reply, frowning, a little disconcerted by his reaction.

"And that the decision to apprehend, imprison or sentence to death a criminal fell down to you."

"That's correct. Even if in reality, things are a little bit more complicated than that." He's really trying my patience now. "Listen, I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at…"

"Would you really arrest me for having used my wand in a deserted dead end alley with no witness but yourself and a sewer rat, and in order to reveal the door to the restaurant in which you wanted to take me to lunch?"

With the exception of Grindelwald, no one had dared to stand up to me like that for a very long time. I should be outraged. Scandalised. Furious. I'm not. I can't. There he is, standing before me, shifty eyes and red ears, clutching his case so hard his knuckles are white and nervously tapping his foot against a cobblestone. I look him up and down and I try to think 'cheeky', 'impudent', 'barefaced', but the first word to cross my mind is… 'cute'. He makes insolence sound sweet and innocent and I'm starting to think that I really got myself into hot water.

I let out a sigh, almost sorry that I lectured him when I owe him my freedom, and I clear my throat.

"How is it that you knew the password, anyway?" I ask, in a much quieter tone.

"You'd pronounced it twice just before."

"Pronounced it? I've barely whispered it!"

"Well… I can lip-read. I learnt to do so thanks to the marmoducks. There are little creatures from Madagascar and look like marmosets but their hind limbs are webbed. They are extremely intelligent. They can learn up to one hundred and twenty words! They are unable to reproduce sounds though, so you have to read their lips if you want to understand them."

"I see…" I reply, a little too offended by the parallel established between myself and a monkey with duck legs, to be completely convinced. "After you," I say, pointing at the door.

We enter the restaurant and all eyes are on us except those of the mistress of the house, Caoilfhoinn Halloran, who is too busy preparing a cocktail behind the counter.

"Well, well! Isn't it Mister Graves?" she says without looking up while fruits are swirling in the air around her.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Caoilfhoinn," I answer politely.

The fruits fall in small square pieces into a glass and she walks around the counter to get closer to me, pushing wisps of red curls away from her eyes.

"Perci, you little charmer! You make it sound like you haven't seen me for ages whereas you showed your ugly mug around here every single day of last week!"

I grit my teeth. Grindelwald did not only steal my appearance and my identity, he also stole my habits. My favourite places. My acquaintances. Without anyone noticing. The only one who hasn't been fooled is… someone who didn't know me at all. How ironical. I cast a furtive glance at Scamander. He is definitely no ordinary man.

"Oh, but it looks like we have company!" Caoilfhoinn exclaims as she spots him. "Who's that handsome young man?"

"Newt. Newt Scamander, Madam," Scamander bows shyly, his right hand on his heart.

"Hmm… A true English gentleman, just how I like them!" She tells him with a glance full of innuendo and for an instant, Scamander genuinely looks on the verge of running away. "He reminds me that other English man you brought here a couple months ago" she says, taking me aside. "The one with blue eyes to die for. He had the same smile. What was his name again? Orpheus? Perseus?"

My blood freezes. Theseus. His name is Theseus. And yes, the smile is the same.

So he came all this way to meet Grindelwald. Even if this revelation only gives support to my theories, I feel like my heart has just been ripped out. The Cruciatus curse would feel almost tolerable compared to this pain. I lean on the back of a chair not to lose balance again.

And he never wanted to come with me to the USA… Is there a worse betrayal than coming right here and colluding with the enemy? Seeing my face instead of his? Letting him steal my life while I was dying in a rat hole? Can you make a clean break with the past and denigrate to that degree those who were part of it? I don't even know if I am devastated or furious. Probably both. I feel tears filling my eyes. The tears I have been holding back for so long. I can't let them fall. Not here. Not now. Definitely not.

"Caoilfhoinn," I say, ignoring her question because saying the name 'Theseus' out loud would be too painful right now, "Mr Scamander and I need to talk. Privately."

She nods in comprehension.

"Small table upstairs?"

"Perfect. Lamb stew for me and asparagus pie for Mr Scamander."

"And a bottle of cranberry wine?"

"You know me too well," I reply with a fake smile. So well you couldn't tell the difference between myself and Grindelwald, I refrain from adding.

I know what most people think of me. I know what is said behind my back. I know what nicknames I've been given. But during my captivity, I kept hoping that beyond their contempt, those people would end up becoming aware of the fraud. It never happened.

I am stern. I am cold. I am distant. I am bossy. I am demanding. I am caustic. I am arrogant. Yes, I'm all that. But I'm not evil.

At least that's what I thought.

"So, how's your pie?" I ask, after several long minutes of silence.

He doesn't talk much, and I'm not exactly a chatterbox myself. But the silence by his side is not heavy nor boring. It's even surprisingly comfortable.

"Hmm…" He swallows what he has in his mouth. "Delicious! What about your stew?"

"Exquisite. That's the first decent meal I've had in seven months and it's really nice."

"Didn't they feed you at the hospital?"

"Yes, of course they did. But their pea purée looked like sick and I'm pretty sure a troll had sneezed into their Mirabelle plum jelly," I answer in a detached tone.

He bursts into laugh quite unexpectedly and his laugh is so contagious that I end up laughing heartily too. I don't remember when it last happened to me. I'm not just talking about the last few months. I'm talking about the last couple of years too. I had forgotten how good it felt. It warms your heart and, just for a moment, you forget about everything.

"I wanted to thank you again," I say, once I regain composure. "If you hadn't unmasked Grindelwald and if you, well… if Archibald hadn't found me, Merlin knows how long my ordeal would have lasted."

A faint flush of pink stains his cheeks and he stares at his plate, stirring the asparagus with the tips of his fork.

"Stop it, it's embarrassing… You make it sound like I'm some kind of hero…"

"Well, you are. It takes a hell of a lot of courage to face a destructive Obscurial and a powerful dark wizard."

"No." He shakes his head. "No… My brother is a hero. Me…"

"Your brother…" I repeat absentmindedly, hypnotised by the ruby red coloured wine I am swirling in my glass.

"Yes. My brother. Theseus Scamander. You may have already heard his name."

I emptied my glass in one go, as if alcohol had the power to erase painful memories.

"Indeed."

"He's a war hero. He was named Head of the Auror Office after the armistice. And he's basically everything I'm not. Ambitious. Popular. Charismatic."

I feel a hint of bitterness in his voice and I know why it's there.

"It's a chance you're nothing like him."

He looks up and stares at me for a moment, before raising his eyebrows and shaking his head in disbelief.

"I know a lot of people who would happily disagree, Mr Graves."

I can only imagine what it must have been like, growing up in Theseus' shadow.

"Then maybe they're going to change their mind. Your brother is under arrest."

His fork slips from his hand and falls heavily on his plate.

"What are you saying?"

"He's going to be judged and sent to Azkaban."

"It doesn't make any sense. No one sends my brother to Azkaban. He's the one sending people to Azkaban."

"Your brother was Grindelwald's preferred contact in the United Kingdom during his ascent in Eastern Europe. Besides, he helped Grindelwald to join the USA two years ago and he gave him classified information which allowed him, amongst other things, to steal my identity and infiltrate the MACUSA. I also have good reasons to think he was involved in the murder of several No-Majs in England."

He too empties his glass in one go but for different reasons. And you can tell by the way his eyes open wide that he is not used to alcohol.

"No. No… There must be some mistake… My brother is… He's peculiar, that's true. He's always been blinded by power and… he's selfish, and calculating, but a Grindelwald's fanatic? A murderer? That is absurd."

I know. I struggled to accept it too.

"I'd like to rule in your favour, Mr Scamander, but I've been investigating your brother for years. I've been convinced for years of his allegiance to Grindelwald and of his implication in various sordid cases… The recent events provided the evidence needed. I'm sorry."

"No. No, it's fine… Theseus and I… We… Well, we're not exactly in good terms. The truth is we haven't talked to each other since 1913. It's just… He's still my brother and… I can't…" he says, his voice quavering.

I'd like to find words of comfort but I've never been good at that. And yet I understand what he means… I should have sent that arrest warrant to the British Ministry of Magic without any remorse but I had knots in my stomach. That's one of Theseus' strange powers. He manipulates you. He uses you. He drags your name through the mud. He breaks your heart. And then he smiles at you, and it's impossible to hate him. Bloody smile.

Scamander closes his eyes a short instant, as if to refocus.

"That invitation, it wasn't just to thank me, right?" He finally asks.

"No, indeed," I answer because it would be a lie to say I hadn't planned that conversation about his brother.

A deep sadness settles in his eyes and I wish I could make it go away. See his smile again.

The same smile as Theseus.

"I should have known better. I mean… Who would invite me to lunch just for the sake of spending time in my company?"

"It isn't what you think it is…"

"No?" He looks out of the window as if to focus on anything else. "It really looks like that, though… Listen, if you invited me here to drag information about my brother out of me, you're wasting your time. I told you. I haven't been in touch with him, nor with our parents or anyone of the family for thirteen years."

"Nooooo! No, it's not… Mr Scamander, my invitation was sincere and I really enjoy your company, and believe me, it means a lot because I usually enjoy no one's company but my own. But I felt duty-bound to talk to you about your brother's arrest and about your security."

"My security?"

"Grindewald's arrest led to extensive press coverage around the world and I'd better tell you straightaway that you don't exactly have many friends among his followers. Your brother's arrest is only going to aggravate matters, particularly in England. There's no place you can be safe. You can run and you can hide in the Moroccan desert or in the darkest depths of the equatorial jungle, they'll find you."

He nods, a pensive look on his face.

"Ok. Thank you for the warning."

I nearly choke.

"What?! I'm telling you there is a price on your head and all you've got to say is 'ok'?!"

"What did you expect me to say?"

"I don't know! You could get angry, you could say you've never wanted to be involved in all this… I don't bloody know! But you simply can't answer 'ok' as if it were of no importance!"

"If it happened, then it was bound to happen. Everything happens for a reason."

I rub my hands over my face in exasperation.

"Mr Scamander, I can't let you leave America. Not until a safety measure is set up."

"What if I don't want to stay? What are you going to do to keep me here? Send me behind bars for having used my wand in a deserted alley?!"

I let out a sigh.

"No. You're right. I can't hold you back in New-York against your will. Unless you do something as stupid as to leave a case full of magical beasts in the hands of a No-Maj again…"

"That was an unfortunate set of circumstances." He looks away. "I never- "

"I know," I cut him off. "Look, I just got out of the hospital, I haven't taken up my post back in the MACUSA… Just give me a little time to think about your safety and about the best way to protect you… You could live at my place for some time, my house has been searched from top to bottom by the MACUSA after Grindelwald's arrest and they cast a powerful shield charm to protect it. You'll be safe there. And I have a spare room. I won't disturb you."

He takes a deep breath.

"Can I ask you a question, Mr Graves?"

"Yes," I reply, a little taken aback. "Sure."

"Why are you so anxious to protect me?"

I thought it was obvious.

"Because protecting people is my job. And because… I'm worried about you."

"Then don't be. Because I'm not. My philosophy is that worrying means you suffer twice."

"You can also choose not to suffer at all."

"It's an option I've never considered. Oh, crikey! Do you have the time? I told Tina and her sister Queenie I'd pop in for a cup of tea to say my goodbyes. They are expecting me at 2.30pm. I wouldn't like to be late…"

I rummage through my coat pocket and pull out my pocket watch.

"It's nearly two," I say, putting the watch back into my coat.

"I'd better go!" He exclaims and I'd like to beg him to stay and to pursue our conversation but he's already slipping on his coat.

"Before you go," I tell him, "promise me to think about my offer."

"Good afternoon, Mr Graves," he replies, ignoring my request and grabbing his case. For a fraction of a second, I see two little clawed paws coming out of it but then I look again and they're gone. I really wonder what they put into my potions. "And thank you for lunch! The asparagus pie was a real treat." He's making his way downstairs when he suddenly turns back. "Oh, by the way, Mr Graves?" I look at him. "Before you protect others, think about protecting yourself."

I open my mouth to protest but there he is, giving me his best smile, and I'm speechless.

Bloody smile.

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(1) No need to google that word. It's a creature I made up. ;)