Mary, his old governess, sent a telegram during an unbearably hot and sticky summer day. Percival was getting nowhere with Grindelwald. All leads turned into dead ends and would-be informants were too scared to talk. He was working day in and day out sitting at his desk pouring over clues and walking out on streets putting holes in his shoes. Nevertheless, when the telegram appeared at his door, off he went to his grandparents' estate without hesitation.
Mary didn't believed in using owls or any sort of animals in delivering her letters and since many wizards and witches in America still looked down on no-majs and their contraptions (as Newt constantly brings up, "Backward thinkings on both side of the pond.") Mary made use of them to her own advantage. Ever since that day when he was fourteen, Percival made every effort in listening to her warnings and sightings. It served him well during the War and his position at MACUSA.
Tina requested that Percival bring back his grandmother's famous baked blueberry muffins, Queenie wished him well during his travels, and Newt showed up in the seat next to his on the train with a cheeky smile and a glint in his eyes, saying something about how his creatures needed some fresh country air. Percival made no mention about Newt's sudden appearance and apparent lie. He just nodded his head and continued to read his newspaper with a slight smile on his face.
Newt took to the country far better than the city. The second they appeared on the estate off he went behind the manor, saying something about how his bowtruckles needed to stretch their bodies and wasn't the weather beautiful?
Florence met Percival at the door, giving him a kiss and an excuse on his grandfather's absence. His mother was currently at his sister's residence in England and it was just her and Mary at the manor. She lead him quietly to Mary's little cottage off on the edge of the estate before hurrying away. A few of her friends were coming over and she need to check on the kitchen. She knew when a situation calls for an audience and she respected the governess's privacy.
Percival found Mary staring off by the window. The sky was blue, the heat from the sun shimmered slightly on the grass, and the cooling charm held as Percival awkwardly stood there waiting on her to speak, always feeling like he was five and got caught with his hand in the cookie jar in her presence. He could see Newt off in the distance through the window, a few of his creatures walking around him. The smile on his face was infectious.
"He's an odd little bird, isn't he?" asked Mary. Her eyes a bit clouded and her arms crossed over her chest. While her tone was cold, Percival saw no ill intentions against Newt. This was Mary's way of assessing the man.
"He's a friend," replied Percival, providing justification on why the British wizard was here during an intimate manner.
"A rare one, even amongst our kind," continued Mary, her voice barely above a whisper. She gave Percival a quick glance and gestured to the table where tea was waiting. "Be kind to him. He cares about you."
Percival gave no reaction as he sat down. Mary had said the same thing about Mildred. He took a sip or two, before saying, "Grindelwald is looking for something. An artifact or maybe even a person or creature. No one knows anything and those that might know are too afraid to talk."
"Remember what I told you when you were young?" Mary asked. She settled down across from him and leaned back into her chair.
"Leave the creatures outside, Percy?" said Percival with a smile.
"And you found another who's also fond of wild beasts," retorted Mary, her eyebrows raised.
"Mary," started Percival.
"Mildred is glad you're moving on," said Mary, ignoring Percival's warning. Her head was tilted to the side as she was listening to a whispered conversation. "She just wants you to hurry it up a bit."
Percival said nothing as he slowly chew on the biscuit that was laid out. He could hear Newt in the distance, his voice cheerful as he called after his occamy. He could see the winged beast taking flight and enjoying its freedom from the confinement of the suitcase. He wanted to be there standing beside the magizoologist, but duty demanded his attention.
"As you know I have the power of Sight," began Mary, her lips in a tight line and face emotionless. "I'm grateful for your grandparents. Not many with my gifts are able to live peaceful lives. Instead we are imprisoned, used, and discarded."
"My grandmother's kindness sees no boundaries," replied Percival. He had heard stories of those with the Sight and not many ended happily.
"And I made sure to repay my debts. I taught you and your sister that magic is relentless and unknown. Unlike the systematic lifeless schooling you gotten as a teenager, I wanted the both of you to know that not everything is discovered and studied and that anything that was discovered and studied is not absolute," said Mary. She waved her hand a bit over her cup of tea, steam suddenly raising from the liquid. "Reading bumps on your head was the forefront of psychology eighty years ago and now most consider phrenology a quack."
"Mary, I already know all of this," said Percival with a sigh.
"You needed the reminder," replied Mary, her pale gray eyes leveled against his. "Skepticism goes a long way as well as unconditional belief in knowing that not all answers are given. Some things, events, concepts are still unknown and will always be unknown."
"You said you might have something on Grindelwald." He did not have time for another lecture from his childhood.
"And you brought home a British man," she replied. Percival ignored how Mary knew Newt was British when he had yet to introduce them. He could still hear Newt's laughter in the distance.
"Do you know what Grindelwald is looking for?" asked Percival, trying to get straight to the point. He had patience before, but now there was a dark wizard creating havoc and Mary had the habit of teasing out her visions and giving him the roundabout.
"Information," she stated plainly. "As do we all. The Greeks myths you were fond of when you were a child has some basis in reality. Great wizards and witches in the past did some incredible and unbelievable things and no-majs passed down their stories from generations to generations, changing things here and there. Norse myths had the same treatment, so did stories from China and Japan. Even figures in American tall tales were once alive and real. No-majs persevered them while we promptly forgotten them. Grindelwald knows this. The importance of listening to our ancestors." She paused while she took a sip from her mug. "He wants to manipulate time."
"Time?" asked Percival in disbelief. "Even with a time turner you can't change the progression of events as they played out. Events are irreversible."
Mary laughed, her voice filling the unusually quiet room. There were always creatures coming and going outside on the estate, but now there was only silence and stillness. Percival couldn't even hear Newt anymore.
"How would you know?" asked Mary. "Time for you, for me, for everyone else is from one point to another point. You wouldn't know if someone is manipulating your time in this world. You only know what you experienced, the end result."
"You sound like my grandmother," said Percival.
"Her words has some truth in them," said Mary. "I have the power of Sight. Some say that those with our gifts were blessed by Cassandra's hands. Do not make me a tragic figure like her, Percival."
Percival said nothing, waiting on Mary to continue on with her warnings.
Mary took another sip of her tea before summoning her house elf who appeared with a pop. She gave instructions for the creature to send out tea and biscuits to Newt and to apologize for being a bad host. The elf nodded his head and with a pop he went. They could see Newt graciously taking what he was being offered and sheeply waved his hand in thanks. Mary smiled in return, though Percival could see that it was strained. All of the sudden, she said, "There are reports of those with the ability to summon fire at will without a wand or a spell, a gift from Ra. Rarer still are those with the power of temporal displacement; the history of how one obtain the power is still a bit muddled, given the circumstance. I'm sure they they wouldn't want people to know."
"Temporal displacement?"
"Manipulation of time, whether it's intentional or not, innate or learned. This is what Grindelwald is seeking," replied Mary.
"Why?" This did not make sense to Percival. Time was too complicated to manipulate or control. There were limitless possibilities and distractions and trying to find one path amongst many will give even the smartest man the will to kill himself.
"If he was smart enough, to better his enemies," stated Mary. "But he's human like all of us. All what I gathered from my visions is you, that boy out there and Grindelwald battling somewhere. He mentioned something about going back to Godric's Hollow and that night. My visions always end the same: the British man crying, you on the ground bleeding, and Grindelwald laughing."
xXxXxXx
"Are those grindylows?" asked Percival as he approached Newt. He could see Newt's opened suitcase and his blue coat lying on the grass by the riverbank.
"Yes," answered Newt, a smile on his face. "Aren't they lovely?"
Percival hummed in approval as he watched the creatures snapped at each other in the waters. Newt was lying down on the grass and prompting himself up with his elbows as various creatures were walking about around him. The sun highlighted his nose and the pale freckles on his cheeks, creating an aura around him that Percival was afraid to get near, a true innocent that Percival was sure didn't apply to Newt. He wasn't sure if he should sit down beside him or continue standing when Newt asked, "How was your talk?"
"Confusing," admitted Percival after a minute. Thoughts muddled his mind as he pondered on the implications of Mary's warnings. Many interpretations could be taken upon with the best intentions, but the actual truth of the matters won't revealed itself to after everything was said and done and that what scared Percival the most.
"I can owl Albus. He was friends with Grindelwald when they were younger. Maybe he has some insight," said Newt, glancing quickly at the auror before looking away, a hint of pink colored his neck.
Percival offered his thanks and the two of them continued watching the river flow pass and the grindylow snaps. It was peaceful. Quiet.
"It's beautiful," said Newt, his tone light and with a sense of awe. "Your grandparents' estate. I can see why you speak highly of it."
Feeling a tug, Percival glanced down and saw Newt's niffler by his legs. The two of them had developed a rapport the past couple of weeks. Percival allowed him full run of MACUSA's Lost Magical Possessions (given that anything he takes weren't dangerous or harmful to itself and to others) and in return the niffler helped him out with some busts in dealing with illegal smugglers (which required a lot of wrangling apparently).
Percival gave a sigh and reluctantly sat down and pet the creature, clearly a soft spot that needed to be remedied.
"Why did you come, Newt?" asked Percival. The niffler smuggled closer to him giving him warmth as a sudden breeze passed by, signalling an end to the long afternoon.
"I thought you needed someone with you," replied Newt as he tilted his head toward the departing sun.
"I can handle going home and meeting my family," replied Percival.
"But this is your first time back since you buried Mildred," said Newt in a matter of fact tone.
Percival paused a bit in petting the niffler. "How did you know?" he hesitantly asked. He didn't mean to avoid visiting home, but his family always came to him during the holidays or they exchanged correspondent through letters. It was easier that way.
"Queenie," admitted Newt, not caring if he was venturing into some very personal matters with Percival. "People tend to reveal more when they are a bit distressed."
Percival nodded his head in agreement. "And I thought that my shields were strong."
"One of the best," replied Newt. He stood up and stretched his arms. He looked out onto water, taking in the trees, the riverbank, the setting sun. "Is this where…?"
"Yes." Percival stood up along with Newt and went to stand by him. He could feel warmth radiating off from the man.
Percival wasn't sure what he was doing with Newt, the man that seemingly came out of nowhere and inserted himself into his life. His relationship with Mildred was so easy; the steps needed to taken and declarations uttered. The only word he could use to describe Newt was this: comfort. Newt gave him comfort, from his demanding job and expectations expected from the community, his family, and his friends.
He also had the most amazing green eyes and one of the most intelligent minds Percival had ever met. He was kind and humble and thought of others, creatures, everything before himself. Newt was here without being asked just to make sure that he wasn't alone visiting his family home.
But Newt was also hiding something. Percival didn't get to where he gotten to not know when someone was hiding something from him. The way Newt would sometimes speak in half-truths or direct their conversation to another topic. How his eyes always glanced around, his back never to the door, his hesitancy to wave his wand. Newt was afraid of something that he was willing to cross an ocean for.
"It's beautiful here," said Newt, his eyes searching for something on Percival's face. "Don't close yourself off, Percival. There are people who cares about you."
"I'm trying not to be," admitted Percival. He brushed a strand of hair away before letting his hand rest on Newt's cheek.
"Try harder," whispered Newt, his breath tickled Percival's skin.
Percival stepped closer and leaned his forehead against Newt's. "Is this okay?"
Newt nodded, his eyes closed and his breathing slowed down.
His lips were tender and his skin had a hint of lavender, triggering a memory deep in the recess of Percival's mind, struggling and trying to crawl to the surface. Newt sighed and leaned into the auror, his hands tugging on Percival's coat and pulling him close.
Newt's hair was soft to touch and his skin flushed with red. Percival intertwined their hands and squeezed lightly, the ribbon on his wrist burned comfortably when it made contact with Newt. Percival paused, his breathing labored. Green eyes stared into his, desire rolling beneath his gaze, Newt's lips were red and puffy and wet with use. Percival inhaled a shaky breath before leaning in again, this time with a bit more force, teeth clashing and tongues tangling.
Newt was entitled to his secrets, such as Percival had secrets and history of his own, but Mary and Queenie was right. This felt right. This felt complete. It was time to be vulnerable again and open himself up to another and Newt, God forbid why, cared about him. Percival didn't deserve Newt's care, such as he didn't deserve Mildred's affections. He could almost hear her in the breeze as Newt's lips tenderly left kisses down Percival's neck as his hands began to wander under the many clothing with the desire to touch bare skin, the wind warm in its embrace of the two.
Percival would deal with Mary's warnings later. Right now, being here at this particular place with Newt, was all that mattered to Percival.
Edward would be happy that his son was living a life outside of MACUSA.