"He stands alone in hollow gloom, with the sound of his own breath whispering down unseen passages ahead and behind and to both sides, wondering how he stumbled into this blackest of all labyrinths. He entered by choice. We all do. Whether we are mapping the heavens or skulking the lanes of the underworld, whether we are hunting the imprisoned fiend or have ourselves become the monster, whether we are searching for what is lost or hiding what must never be found, we all round that first corner by choice - and by then, we are lost. You too. You must decide what is false and what is true, and what is true for me but not for you. We are wandering the mazes, all of us, and we cannot hope to escape until we learn to tell between what is real and what is real for someone else. There lies the madness, and the truth as well." - Troy Denning, Pages of Pain (On the original character of Theseus)
They spent the night in Dumbledore's house. The wizard had invited them to spend the remaining few hours before morning in his guest bedrooms and to make themselves comfortable, before leaving the room. Tina and Queenie had retired to share one of the rooms, closing the door softly behind them. Theseus pretended not to hear the sounds of raised voices and sobbing coming from the room later on; they both did. He and Graves sat at the table by the fire in the living room of Dumbledore's home, not speaking and not really looking at one another.
They been sent a Phoenix-form Patronus that had reached them at the British Ministry of Magic – having returned there after Dumbledore had requested some time to prepare himself before they faced Grindelwald. Graves and Theseus had begrudgingly agreed; mostly because they also knew that they should report back to reorganise the remnants of the Aurors and establish what had happened with their pursuit of the Obscurial. As it turned out, the boy had not reverted to his destructive form and had instead fled on foot, apparently accompanied by a young woman - who the circus owner had claimed was a Maledictus. The Aurors had lost them on the streets of Paris amongst all the chaos and fighting that had still been going on.
While both the heads of Magical Law Enforcement had been concerned and aggravated to hear of the boy's continued escape from them, Theseus was also somewhat relieved. It gave them time to take down Grindelwald whilst he was still distracted with his upcoming duel with Dumbledore… and fixated upon torturing Theseus' little brother. It was a horrible thought that Newt's suffering could be in any way beneficial to the larger wizarding world, but Theseus could still see that from a tactical standpoint, it was perhaps best that the Obscurial remained unfound for now.
The message had informed them of Queenie's location and invited them to join her and Dumbledore at his home in Sheffield, after some deliberation, they had apparated to the named street – checking for traps and wards as they went. Tina had been distraught with worry for her sister and had insisted that they take the risk of following the Patronus' invitation and, knowing Dumbledore's flair for the dramatic as he did – Theseus had agreed. Dumbledore's house had been quite predictably heavily warded, but the Fidelius Charm had been overridden by note the Patronus had delivered – both he and Graves had trusted in the reliability of such precautions and entered the house on Dumbledore's invitation.
As Dumbledore had left the room, a bottle of Fire-whiskey and a bowl of apples had floated onto the table in front of the two men and without uttering a word, both had poured themselves a healthy measure of the burning liquid. As they drank, Graves seemed to become increasingly detached from the outside world, staring deeply into the flames that roared in the hearth – dark circles under his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights, but a firm set to his shoulders telling that he was not intending to give into his exhaustion now. Theseus knew that feeling well. He had snatched barely a few hours of sleep over the past four days, and his nerves drove him awake long before he achieved any actual rest. He wasn't going to make the mistake of trying now – not with Grindelwald's deadline drawing so close.
His despondent, anxious, furious thoughts were consuming each other within his exhausted mind – familiar concerns wearing much-trodden paths into the fabric of his brain. He was keeping himself going with the help of long years of Auror and military experience alongside the aid of pep-up potions and the Fire-whiskey. It wasn't doing his body much good, but the familiar burn of the alcohol was helping to dull his mind's swirling just a little. Knowing that his body needed some form of sustenance, Theseus retrieved an apple from the bowl, some distracted part of him remembering the apple tree that had resided near their family home. He had once broken his wrist climbing up to retrieve a young Newt from where he had been hiding at the tree's uppermost branches. Father had been in one of his frequent rages and Theseus had known that Newt would always try to find his creature friends when upset. He had tried to climb up to his brother but had grabbed for what he had thought to be a branch which was in fact a Bowtruckle and had promptly been shouted at by Newt. In his surprise, he had lost his grip and fallen, breaking his wrist in the process.
Newt had looked so utterly frightened as he scrambled down the tree after him, scraping up his hands and clothes something rotten in the process, but he had instantly begun stumbling out apologies, interspersed with half-coherent explanations about Theseus disturbing a creature habitat. As Theseus bit into the apple, he couldn't help a fond half-smile grace his lips as he remembered his ridiculous little brother's bumbling attempts to fix up Theseus' wrist before their parents could see – neither of them being able to use a wand yet, they had instead torn up a spare tea towel and bound it.
It was moments like that that reminded Theseus both of how caring and vulnerable Newt was, but also of his unswerving capacity to always try to protect everyone and everything that he could. He had protected a magical creature from being crushed and inadvertently harmed his brother by doing so – instantly attempting to rectify his mistake and incurring their father's wrath at the ruined towels and Theseus' injury. He had found out and punished Newt for it. He had always found out.
The memory felt like a bitter bile in his throat as he thought of just why Newt was now in danger – he had been trying to help others. He had been trying to help Dumbledore, to help his creatures, to help Credence, and in doing so, had attracted the malevolent attention of the darkest wizard of their time. Theseus understood better than most, the desire to help others – it was why he had become an Auror in the first place; to help people who had suffered at the hands of evil. But Newt took that need to another level – placing himself in great danger and blaming himself for every single harm that came to anyone else, even if it was out of his control.
After the war, he had seen Newt try to distance himself from others to protect himself and them, but his kind heart always led him straight back into the line of fire again and again. He wasn't one to just stand by and let others suffer – creature or otherwise. Newt just attracted trouble from all sides – his innocent yet defiant aura drawing in all the wrong kinds of attention. It wasn't as if Newt was not a capable wizard in his own right – he was – but he was also disproportionality empathetic, which left him vulnerable. Even those who tried to hurt him, even those who were irredeemable – his little brother would see the good in them… even if there were none to be found. Newt had never met a monster that he couldn't love.
An almost unheard grunt broke Theseus from his reveries and he looked up in surprise to see that Graves had drifted off to sleep in a slumped position, the man's sleeping face was creased in distress. His breathing was coming out in short, harsh pants through his teeth and he was twitching slightly, fingers digging into the wood of the chair's armrests – flexing and tensing in a seemingly reflexive pattern. It seemed that the other man was suffering from nightmares.
Unsure of what to do about the sudden display of vulnerability from his fellow Head-Auror, Theseus straightened in his chair, absently tossing the apple core into the fire as he did so. Unfortunately, the resulting loud spit and crackle that the fire gave as the apple juice leaked into it, caused Graves to wake abruptly. He jolted up in his chair, hand outstretched towards the perceived threat before his eyes were even properly open. Theseus found himself momentarily pinned back harshly to the chair in which he sat by an impressive display of wandless magic from Graves.
"Graves? Get a hold of yourself man. You're in no danger." Theseus spoke evenly, his voice firm, but not challenging. Graves blinked a few times before he seemed to properly focus on his surroundings, releasing Theseus with a wave of his hand. Huffing out an affronted breath, Theseus straightened his slightly rumpled waistcoat and fixed Graves with a calculating look – waiting for any further signs of instability or hostility. He couldn't see anything other than an inescapable weariness in the other's dark gaze as it refocussed upon the fire in the grate – watching the remnants of the apple burn away to nothing.
"I… apologise, Auror Scamander." Graves' voice was rough, and he did not look at Theseus – instead pouring himself another glass of Fire-Whiskey and throwing it back with barely a shudder.
"Wasn't it you who just recently told me to keep control of my emotions?" Theseus asked, quirking an eyebrow at Graves. "I'm no expert in such things, but I think you may be refusing to deal with some unresolved issues of your own."
Graves shot him a glare that could have speared through Dragonhide, but Theseus simply poured out another measure of Fire-Whiskey and slid it across the table with two fingers to the other Auror. They both downed another numbing drink. Theseus gritted his teeth for several seconds before unclenching his jaw and addressing a topic that he would have much rather avoided, but he needed to know that he could count on Graves in the upcoming battle. Any slip ups or moments of weakness - of indecision around Grindelwald could be the difference between success and defeat. Between life and death. Between losing Newt or not.
"Look, I usually try not to involve myself in the personal lives of my international colleagues, but I need to make sure that I can rely upon you when it comes to helping Newt. If there are any… tensions that you still have with Grindelwald, that might prevent you from being your best, I'd like to know about them now. I can't risk Newt's safety for the sake of your personal grudge against him."
Graves' left eye twitched slightly as he finally lifted his gaze from the fire to meet Theseus' with a steel that surprised him – it wasn't the firmness of the gaze, no, that was expected – it was the genuine remorse that laid there. What would he feel the need to be regretful for?
"My personal experiences are not the only reason I seek retribution on Grindelwald, Scamander. This is not merely a matter of duty for me either… I owe your brother my life, but that is not why I wish to assist you. Newt has come to be a… close friend and I do not wish to see him suffer at the hands of a man I know holds no mercy for those he captures. I will do everything within my power to ensure that Newt returns home safely."
Theseus was shocked to hear the genuine sounding words coming from the notoriously imperturbable Director – a man so stern that no one noticed a difference when a sociopathic, fascist aspiring-dictator had replaced him. It was somewhat bizarre to hear him speak of Newt in such a… warm manner. His voice was uncharacteristically full of emotion as he said Newt's name and referred to him as a 'close friend' – true empathy fluctuating in his tone when he spoke of suffering. Against his better instincts, Theseus was tempted to inquire as to what Grindelwald had done to the man so that he would feel such concern for Newt now, but he didn't. He would leave such invasive questions for people much closer to Graves than he was… which apparently included his oddball little brother. Merlin's beard, this was all rather peculiar.
"Dare I ask what it was about my little brother that would merit such… protective behaviour from you, Director Graves?" He phrased it as stiffly and formally as he could – trying to remain as un-invasive as possible whilst still satisfying his curiosity.
To his further bemusement, Graves let out a short huff of amused breath, eyes meeting Theseus' again with some odd humour in them, bright also with the effects of the Fire-Whiskey. "I'm sure you're aware that your brother is quite a… unique individual, Scamander."
Theseus couldn't help but huff out his own laugh at what was likely the biggest understatement since the nations of Europe had declared there would be no risk of war. "You aren't wrong there, Graves, I'll give you that."
They were silent for some time, pouring each other drinks and staring into the fire – seemingly lost in their own musings before Graves surprised Theseus further by speaking again. By this point, both were slumped in their chairs, feeling the warming, numbing effects of the Ogden's finest quite strongly.
"At first… I was more curious how he saw through Grindelwald's illusion when my own colleagues and people I thought to be my friends… did not…" There was pain there too, before Graves continued, his voice increasingly hazy from the effects of the alcohol, eyes seeming to soften into a dreamlike state. "But I soon discovered how… exceptional he was – beyond his affinity with creatures, he's a… surprisingly strong man for one so...sweet… pretty too."
Theseus' eyebrows were stuck somewhere near his hairline by this point. It was getting positively surreal to hear Percival Graves of all people talk about his brother in such a way. It was even more strange to hear his own earlier thoughts reflected to him by another – albeit in a more… umm fond sounding way. He could not deny the truth in the others assertations – except maybe the 'pretty' bit - but he wasn't entirely sure why another man was being quite so honest about his admiration of Newt. He had a sneaking suspicion that the alcohol likely had something to do with Graves' newfound verbosity and… sentimentality.
Feeling the need to venture his confusion and concern to the other man, Theseus cleared his throat slightly and Graves straightened a bit in his chair. Theseus fixed him with a hard glare, feeling his barely restrained cavalcade of simmering emotions beginning to bubble over with the, perhaps unwise, addition of alcohol. His hand coming to rest upon the wand holster at his hip. He would rather that his fellow Auror did not speak in such an… longing manner about his younger brother. Newt may be a grown man, but Theseus did not appreciate Graves bringing up such inappropriate feelings at a time like this.
He wasn't going to let the much older man – an American official no less – attempt to gain his approval to further alienate Newt from the rest of society with his… choice in lifestyle. He had heard that Graves was exceptionally private about his personal life, and up until this point, Theseus had assumed that it was merely healthy paranoia as a Director of Magical Law Enforcement. But hearing the way he was talking about Newt… it gave him the distinct impression that other man may have more specific reasons for wanting to keep his private life exactly that – private.
Theseus had nothing wrong with such matters himself, but he was well aware of how most in society viewed them. Newt could risk losing his job, his book deal, he could become even more of a social pariah than he already was. He could even risk issues in the Muggle world should anyone find out – chemical castration or arrest was a true danger even for a wizard. It could require a great deal of trouble, obliviating and unneeded stress on the Muggle-wizard relationship to cover up. Newt was inexperienced in terms of romantic partners – only ever seeming to show interest in Leta - and Theseus was not going to let Graves drag his little brother into a world of even more complex dangers than he was already in. There were already rumours circulating about Newt due to his… association with Dumbledore, but Theseus had done his best over the years to discourage them by putting Newt's noticeable lack of interest in women down to being hung up over Leta. It was likely that Newt didn't even like men, but Theseus was worried that his inexperience and need for affection might surprise him into accepting Graves' advances, should he attempt them…. Or had he already?
Graves was likely well-meaning - from the way he spoke of the magizoologist - but Theseus would rather that Newt did not have to face the concerns of navigating such a difficult series of landmines when he was already facing so much. Theseus was well prepared to deliver a particularly emphatic rant on the subject when he heard a smooth, weary sounding voice cut through the tense silence.
"Mr Graves, while I am sure that your honesty in well meaning, I don't believe that now is the time to be confessing your affection of Newt Scamander to his elder brother." They both started slightly out of their drink-induced haze and turned to see Dumbledore standing in the doorway – now fully dressed. There was an odd blend of light humour and seriousness in his blue eyes as he regarded the pair. "I would rather that you did not start a fight whilst intoxicated in my home, if you wouldn't mind."
The now apparently empty bottle of Fire-Whiskey floated off the table and back over to a nearby cabinet with a flick of Dumbledore's hand. He sat himself in a chair across the other side of the round table a regarded Theseus and Graves with calm patience, though his blue eyes were looking about as drained as they both were. Theseus nodded mutely, though eying Graves with suspicion for a few moments longer – noting the man's unfocussed gaze still residing on the fire. He likely wasn't much aware of what he had just admitted to by the looks of it – they had gotten through the strong drink faster than Theseus had realised.
He felt stabs of shame in his chest as he comprehended that he had drunken himself into an unreasonable state while his little brother was still in very real danger. It had just felt good to not be consumed by constant fear and anger for a little while, to be able to relax somewhat for just a bit. But with the presence of Newt's former teacher, he found himself sobering up a bit. Theseus had always had an inherent need to impress figures of authority – born of a strict father and the happiness he found in his academic success at Hogwarts. He found himself straightening further in his chair and brushing his horrendous leather clothing with his wand – transforming it self-consciously back into his usual grey suited attire.
Feeling a little more like himself, he turned his attention back to Dumbledore, who offered him a very slight smile.
"Sorry for finishing off your Fire-Whiskey supply." Theseus offered, not entirely sure of what to say in the situation. It felt like they were all in some sort of horribly still limbo – floating in the mid-space between one horror and the next. Like what they were doing was just a time filler until - what would hopefully be the final confrontation - occurred. (Oh, how right he is)
"Its probably been put to better use – Mr Graves looked like he needed some help finding a little rest." Dumbledore said, nodding towards the chair in which Graves was again slumped in sleep – brow creased once more, but lying still and quiet. It seemed that the drink had helped with the nightmares at least, even if it had made the wizard's mouth run more than he had perhaps intended.
"I do not usually attempt to insert myself into the personal lives of others beyond necessity, but I feel as though I should make matters easier for Newt wherever I can, by advising that you not bring up what Mr Graves has said, to him." Dumbledore's expression was solemn and… somewhat disturbed as he continued. "I believe that Newt may be in a… vulnerable state – more vulnerable than may be at first evident and what he will need above all else, is the support of those he cares about." Those bright blue eyes fixed upon Theseus in such a way that he began to feel slightly uncomfortable. "Even if the people he considers closest are ones that you may not approve of."
There was a part of Theseus that was fuming at being given advice on how to look after his own little brother from someone who had allowed Newt to be captured and tortured at the hands of his ex-lover. Someone who had practically lined Newt up to be a human sacrifice… but he also understood what the older wizard was getting at – he knew that he shouldn't let his personal qualms get in the way of Newt's recovery and he wasn't going to argue. He knew that Dumbledore was right, even if he still intended to bring up the obvious issues at some point – Theseus would do it at a more appropriate time. For now, there were much more pressing issues to be dealt with.
"What will be our tactic for engaging Grindelwald? What do you intend to do about the blood-bond?" Theseus voiced the questions that had been plaguing his mind since visiting Hogwarts – he had been waiting for the man to venture an answer on his own time, but now had grown impatient.
"We shall use the two-way portkey that Miss Goldstein was supplied with – as Gellert no doubt intended we do – and I shall attempt to reason with him." Dumbledore's voice was forcibly calm even as Theseus felt incredulity flow through him.
"I think that the time where this madman could be talked down if long past! Even with your sentiment blinding you, surely you can see that!"
Dumbledore inclined his head towards Theseus' irate expression, raising a hand to brush across his mouth in a brusque movement. "I am left with little option other than to first attempt peaceful negotiation, the breakage of the blood-bond is not worth sacrificing Newt in the attempt to rescue him. Should any of you see an opportunity to disarm or incapacitate Gellert, then do so."
"You're damn right we will." Theseus replied acerbically, levelling a heavy stare at the other man as he did so. "I have no reservations about putting Grindelwald down when the opportunity comes and not only because of what he has done to Newt, or Graves or anyone else – it is because the world would be better off without someone like him in it. As much as would like to hold faith with the Ministry on the matter – I don't believe that there is any prison or captor that we could force upon him that he wouldn't be able to wriggle his way out of, like the snake he is."
He could see that Dumbledore knew he was right – but there was still that lingering spark of something, that familiar little flame of hope for better from someone who was not capable of it. Theseus knew it well. But he would not let it be the end of his little brother. "If you can provide enough of a distraction for Graves, Tina and myself, then we may have the chance to end this now."
Dumbledore's expression was unfathomable. Theseus stood, pushing his chair back firmly and moving to stand in the growing patch of early morning light by the window, looking out at the snow-covered streets and rooftops that disappeared into the hills beyond. "If you have any better ideas, now would be the time to voice them."
He heard Dumbledore sigh. "I may have, but it will not be a simple accomplishment by any means and it will require both your and Newt's assistance… it will be dangerous and holds a high risk of killing you both."
Theseus turned back to face Dumbledore, who had too stood from his seat, hands in his trousers pockets as he leant wearily on the table. "What do you mean?"
"There may be a way of removing the blood-bond from myself and Gellert - transferring it into Newt, but without having to kill him to destroy it."
"Why must Newt be the one to bear it? Couldn't someone else do it?" Theseus asked, desperation lacing his tone. Dumbledore looked pained as he answered, avoiding Theseus' gaze.
"It would have been possible for another to do so, but I fear that Gellert has set his sights upon Newt as being the bearer due to a mistake on his part about the nature of our…relationship. The bearer must hold a connection to both participants of the pact as well as a strong will… there are drastically few individuals who could fit into that category."
Theseus relented to the man's more in-depth knowledge of such things – even if he found himself hating the idea that his brother was classed as having a connection with the likes of Grindelwald. "Very well, what must we do?"
"It would require a large contribution of your blood and magic to help Newt stand a chance of surviving it. Are you sure you wish to take this risk?" His bright blue gaze bored into Theseus' own with apologetic, sincerely blunt honesty.
"For Newt, of course." Theseus spoke with equal honesty, jaw set.
"Then please awake Mr Graves and the Goldstein sisters, we must make them aware of our intentions." Dumbledore spoke in a business-like tone, but the set of his shoulders and the steel in his blue eyes told Theseus all he needed to know about the mindset of the other wizard. It was the set of a man who was preparing himself for atrocities unknown and was still holding onto the last remnant of hope that they could be avoided.
A/N - I've done some calculating of ages for this chapter and just realised that in COG Dumbledore (and Grindelwald) is about 47 years old and Theseus is 39, so it was unlikely that Dumbledore would have taught at Hogwarts when Theseus was there in around 1900 as Dumbledore would have been 19 when Theseus first attended. Newt is 30 in COG and so is 9 years younger than Theseus. It was all a bit odd to figure out that ages were closer than I originally thought.
Callum Tuner (Theseus) is 28 years old and Eddie Redmayne is 37, so I don't know what happened there with casting lol – although I'm very glad it worked out how it did as I love Callum's version of Theseus and obviously Eddie is a perfect Newt, but the ages seem a bit off. At least Jude Law is pretty much the same age as his character and Johnny Depp looks about the right age too – even if he is 55.
Merlin's beard that went on a bit… sorry?