"It's really hard, I can't cry in your arms 'cause you're not here, it's not your fault, and if it was, I wouldn't care, my heart is bigger than the distance in between us, I know it 'cause I feel it beating, s o strong it'll knock you down...
Over here, I can't count the miles away from where I want to be, I bet your skin is warm and that you're smiling, yeah, that's what I always loved the most about you, you're so strong, come and knock me down, hey.
…Making friends with all the unfamiliar creatures and pushing back on the unnecessary pressure, come up for air just so you know we won't drown.
…Then I'll believe in what you say, there's nothing left for you to do, the only proof that I need is you." – 'Proof' – Paramore
Percival sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time since he had returned to his apartment and tried very hard not to hit something. He really should have expected this and cursed himself for not having done so, he should've known that his luck would run out eventually, but he had rather hoped that it wouldn't be at a time when he was feeling as emotionally and physically drained as he was now. The day of endless seeming paperwork, arguing against numerous officious fools insisting that he should step down from his position and the continued obstinacy of Vinda Rosier in his attempts to gain information from her, capped off by the harassed, heated events that occurred between him and Newt left him craving his own bed. Not even mentioning the strain of the Legilimency session and the distress he felt from seeing how Newt was existing within his own head – trapped between crushing waves of darkness on all sides. Percival had been fully prepared to down a few glasses of Fire-Whiskey and collapse onto his bed for as long as his turbulent mind would allow, but the universe, it seemed had other ideas.
The very last thing he needed now was a visit from his mother, yet that was exactly what he got.
He had arrived back in his apartment through the fireplace to find the lights on and the form of a handsome older woman dressed in a sweeping black shawl and deep violet dress robes sat imperiously upon his couch. Of course, his first reaction had been to draw his wand in preparation for conflict before he had recognised the tight bun of steel grey hair and sharp emerald eyes and sighed in resignation, stowing it back in its holster and going straight to the drink's cabinet. It had not only been out of his own desire for a drink to help himself cope with her abrasive nature but because she too had a taste for the finer elements of a good whiskey and would accept nothing less than the best that Percival had. One of the few things they had in common aside from blood and the pallid complexion.
The conversation had been forcibly polite and meaandering, as if they were two colleagues conversing only to pass time before they could be elsewhere, he did get along with her for the most part but he had no patience for her usual swooping pattern of hovering about a subject until she eventually deigned it time to land upon it. It wasn't out of any desire to prolong the conversation or avoid the subject due to awkwardness on her part but more a long-honed skill of shrouding her intentions and central focus from those she spoke to. It was painfully transparent after all this time and Percival eventually snapped under the pressure of a long day and broke his nearly hour-long trend of answering in noncommittal gestures and monosyllabically civil replies.
"I'm sure we both know why you're here ma, and I would appreciate it if you could cut to the chase. Its been a rather long day and I simply haven't the patience."
She frowned severely at him, having just paused in her drone on the affairs of Percival's cousins' academic prowess to sip at her drink but after regarding him disapprovingly for several moments placed down her glass and coughed in an elegant way. The way she often did when she was attempting to refrain from becoming outwardly angry or crass as her coarser lineage might oblige her to. "Very well Percy, as you are no doubt aware from my letters, despite your deliberate ignorance of them" Her gaze flickered over to where her letters lay upon his desk, opened but mostly disregarded under several quills. "I have become aware of the relationship between you and one… Newton Scamander?" She said the name as if testing out the syllables on her tongue, raising an arched brow in question and Percival nodded very slightly in confirmation, she too nodded in her own affirmation and continued. "And I was wondering just why you thought I didn't have the right to know about the first person you've showed anything more than a passing interest in; something that wasn't merely a fling intended to shame the family…or is this yet another bid to do so? Is this young man a delinquent as the papers would have the public believe?" Her accented voice was clipped and tight with annoyance.
Percival had to work very hard to school his expression into one of blank indifference instead of irritation at his mother's blunt, unjustified words and traced a finger carefully around the rim of his glass which sat nearly empty on the arm of his chair. "He is no delinquent, a little… eccentric perhaps but he's a good man… one of a kind I'd wager." He tried to keep his assessment of Newt lacking as much of the deepest fondness and oddity he found so endearing about him but couldn't help the tender smile that graced his lips as attempted to find the adequate words to describe his partner.
His mother's eyebrows raised when she noted this, a delicately incredulous expression upon her face before she spoke. "Eccentric? I'm assuming that's cause of his… obsession with magical beasts that has brought him to such fame?"
"In part." Percival hedged, eyes tracing the liquid swilling in the bottom of his glass with memories of Newt's warm, often painfully awkward smile and unique Scamander-blue eyes flickering the contrasting environments of the various enclosures – changing from greener to bluer to more hazel shades depending upon the light. So different from his brother's simply in the lighter elements and the wildness that bled through even when he was expressing not much at all.
His mother rolled her eyes "So what's wrong with him then?"
Percival gritted his teeth a little against his building frustration and willed himself not to snap at her again "What makes you think there's something with him?"
"The fact that you're refusing to tell me anything about him at all." Her Mid-Ulster accent broadened noticeably when she grew impatient and it was just so now, she placed her glass down on the table beside her, primly in the centre of a coaster so as to not ruin the woodwork. Her green eyes were earnest now as she leant forward in her chair, shawl flicked back irritably onto her seat. "You know I'm not really fool enough to be taken in by those fecking fool reporters that print whatever they think will get them readers. I wanted to hear the truth from my son, can you really blame me for that?"
At his mother's sudden sincerity Percival released another sigh, this one more rueful than weary or exasperated, placing down his own drink. "No…sorry ma, I'm just concerned enough about Newt as it is at the moment, he's-… he's been through a lot and I didn't want to add the strain of meeting the family onto everything else he's dealing with."
Her expression softened then, emerald eyes glimmering with surprise and something else he hadn't seen in quite some time "This is the same young lad who stood up to that deluded fascist bastard in New York? The one who got you out?"
Percival started, surprised by her connection of the stories concerning Newt in the Prophet and the sketchy details he had provided in his letters, but then again, he shouldn't have all that surprised – if nothing else, his mother was exceedingly shrewd. Long years of consorting with the oldest wizarding families both in America and Ireland had taught her much of how to snoop into the business of others and find the truth of things behind the fronts people often put up. It had been what made her so keen on having a say in who Percival socialised with – she wanted to make sure not only that the potential consorts were of the right blood but that they were of a decent sort. Superficial traits aside, there were some things that both could agree upon that made a decent person and thankfully his mother had never succumbed to the popularly held views on Grindelwald's and his ilk's views that many other purebloods did. With a family history like theirs, they needed to be more careful than most about who they let in on the inner workings of their private lives – not only for fear of the normal domesticities but for fear of the exposure of the darker elements. The elements that not even Grindelwald had plumbed the depths of in his dismissal of the Graves and Chant lines past their direct relevance to his impersonation.
He nodded in response to her question however and she seemed mildly appeased "I know you don't like talking about what happened, but I hope that this Scamander is doing right by you, Percy. You do seem to be doing better even if you've been working too damn hard as usual." Her lip curled slightly as her eyes flickered disapprovingly over his admittedly slightly haggard appearance. "Stubborn as your father was sometimes, but you need to learn that even someone as all high n' mighty as you needs someone looking out for em' – you can't keep on playing nurse maid to the wizarding world forever. Think about yerself' for once."
"Yes, ma." The response was almost automatic and for a moment they shared a brief ghost of a smile at the consistent reflection from his childhood. Whenever she adopted this manner – the coarser, more earnest demeaner, he always knew that it was time that she was genuinely just concerned for him and was quick to agree. He rubbed a hand over his brow, slicking back the loose strands of hair that had fallen forward as they often did since he had begun to neglect cutting it quite as severely. Secretly he knew he mainly did it for the euphoric sensation of Newt's soft yet work-worn fingers curling through it. (not that he would admit that under any circumstances of course)
"Are you planning on staying here long?" He ventured and his mother's usual brisk manner snapped back into place like a mask as she nodded.
"At least as long as it takes for your Scamander to visit." She tutted slightly, glancing about his apartment, eyes lingering significantly on the doors to his bedroom and the main entrance. "Honestly I was rather expecting him to be here what with the amount of time The Prophet has been suggesting you spend with each other."
Percival flushed very slightly then, mirroring almost a Newt shade of embarrassed pink high in his cheeks at the implications, even if there was honestly much truth in it. It wasn't like his mother hadn't been aware of much more lewd goings on between him and others before but with Newt there was a certain instinct he felt to protect Newt's reputation, silly as it may sound.
"Newt is unfortunately under a travel ban due to the happenings in New York last year, so I've been spending a great deal of time between here and London. It's also been part of the ongoing Grindelwald related cases too of course, as there's been a lot going over there but you'll probably be pleased to hear that I've managed to make some social ties over there too."
"Oh, you mean with the rest of the Scamander family - that other Director fellow, Theseus I believe?" At Percival's affronted look she scoffed and shook her hand airily "Oh don't look so shocked Percy, you didn't think I wouldn't look into the family you've put so much interest into as of late? I don't have much to do in my retirement other than arrange the social lives of the rest of the family and I need to make sure the first friends you make in over two decades are good enough."
"I wouldn't call Theseus a friend" Percival huffed a bitter laugh "More of a begrudgingly respected colleague. One that may or may not hate my guts."
"Well whatever the case, I won't be leaving you until I meet these new people in your life - especially this young man of yours."
Percival massaged the area of his head where he could feel a steady ache forming and paused for some time before nodding "I'll have to check when's convenient for Newt, I have mentioned you before so don't be too surprised if he's a bit… skittish."
She barked out a laugh "Been filling his head with nonsense then have you?"
Percival smiled thinly "Nothing of the sort ma, I would just appreciate it if you didn't do the usual routine on him. I'm pretty sure that Reith girl you tried to saddle me with didn't stop crying for a good twenty minutes after you interrogated her."
Her smile was equally thin but still rather self-satisfied "And damn right too, the girl was a weed, barely able to say two words without bursting into tears. Terrible wife material."
Percival shook his head, draining the last of his glass and moving to stand "If you'll excuse me, its been a long day and I think it would be a good idea if we both retired for the night." He glanced over to the second bedroom door and opened it with a wave of his hand, briefly looking inside to check it was in adequate condition despite its lack of use and turning back to nod to his mother. "There's towels in the bathroom and spare blankets in the cupboard if you need them." She nodded dismissively and he paused at the door to his own room, looking back over his shoulder a little awkwardly before saying "Goodnight ma."
"Night." She replied firmly as she headed to the bathroom, clicking the door shut behind her as Percival did the same with his bedroom door. He paused behind it for a long moment, rubbing a weary hand over his face before undressing, slipping on his nightclothes and sliding into his bed, grateful for the thick comforter and expensive material of the sheets. As much as he appreciated the hominess of Newt's place, he had a feeling that it was more due to the Magizoologist's presence rather than the rather rundown state he kept it in. The couch on which he had spent a handful of nights since their semi cohabitation had begun so many months ago was one that had required several spells to prevent it from giving him permanent back injuries as well as to stop the damn thing from collapsing. Even sleeping with Newt had not had quite the same relief as his own bed, for as comforting and welcome as Newt's presence had been, it was all the more disconcerting when he disappeared.
He couldn't put a figure to the true extent of how much he detested having to unwillingly share Newt with Gellert fucking Grindelwald, not only in terms of vying for his affections but having the simple pleasure of sleeping beside him. Percival knew that Newt hated the dark wizard, of course he did – how could he not - but the way he spoke about him sometimes… the fact that he used the man's first name and didn't even flinch when he used it anymore…it was worrying to say the least. He supposed that, as Newt had pointed out, it was perhaps better that he had come to a sort of middle-ground with his fear and loathing of Grindelwald – less damaging on a long term scale for him maybe – but there was an admittedly selfish part of Percival that wished Newt would react more dramatically than he did. What the sick bastard was doing to Newt wasn't normal or even vaguely moral; it was utterly abhorrent, and he found himself sort of wishing that Newt would acknowledge that, not just accept it with excessive amounts of self-hatred and guilt lingering in his eyes and words as he did. Percival didn't know what the bastard was doing to make Newt believe that any of this was in any way Newt's fault, but he wished there was some way that he could convince the younger man that he was blameless in all of this. That Grindelwald was manipulating him, and that Newt shouldn't feel the need to hide any of it from Percival, that he shouldn't blame the deaths of others or Grindelwald's mania on himself.
But none of this would fix itself overnight. He knew that he had to be patient and work on the issues with Newt as slowly or deeply as his partner would allow him to, there was no use in trying to force Newt into anything and Percival wasn't going to stoop to Grindelwald's levels to do something like that. Granted, he sometimes lost his calm with Newt, but he always tried to soften the verbal blows as much as he could when it did come to that. He pushed the thoughts from his mind eventually after they spun in seemingly endless circles for an untraceable amount of time, lying on his side in his dark room and he finally managed to find rest. Whilst it was currently only early evening here, he knew it was nearly midnight in England and he had been jarred from the constant switches between daylight and night-time at times when his body believed it to be the opposite. Instantaneous travel between continents was all well and good but it had no less effect upon him in terms of being thrown off, but then again Percival had always been able to sleep under almost any circumstances. Not a deep sleeper mind you; his instincts and paranoia didn't allow for that, but he had been on enough stakeouts to be able to sleep whenever his body demanded it – not just when his mind told him that it should be according to the rising and setting of the sun.
When he awoke again, the clock of his bedside told him that it was just after six in the morning but he felt better than he had so rolled out and prepared for the day, dressing with his usual care and intending to take advantage of the empty bathroom when a call from the kitchen area interrupted his surreptitious journey. He winced slightly and turned to see his mother standing by the counter, looking decidedly out of place with a cup of steaming coffee in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other. He recognised the label as being a bakery two blocks down and raised his eyebrows at his mother's initiative in venturing out onto the streets of New York alone before he had even woken. She was fully dressed, black shawl draped over another set of dress robes, this time in deep blue and proffered the bag in his direction with an imperious gesture.
"Morning Percy, breakfast?"
The image was so decidedly bizarre – his mother offering food that hadn't been made by a House-Elf that he simply stared for a few moments, hand still frozen on the door of the bathroom. She tutted and placed the bag back down on the counter and Percival shook some sense back into himself, giving her a brief nod before heading into the bathroom to complete his morning routine. Once finished, he exited to see her still stood by the counter though now with an empty cup clasped loosely in one hand.
"Morning, can I ask why you got breakfast… quite so early?" He tacked on the last part simply to hide his utter astonishment at her adherence to a more traditionally mothering role after years of asserting herself as an upper-class witch from her more common roots.
She sniffed a little disdainfully as Percival dug into the bag, eying the Eccles cake a little dubiously before taking a bite, nonetheless. He had no reason to be suspicious though, the wards upon every home he had ever owned were specifically designed to protect the occupant and since Grindelwald's invasion he had made extra such precautions to include spells such as the Thief's downfall. The woman opposite him was undoubtedly his mother so there was little fear she had decided to poison him unless he'd really managed to piss her off more than he had imagined by delaying his response to her letters. Unlikely… although not impossible.
"I was expecting that as you would be likely working today, I might pay a visit to your friends to occupy myself whilst you were busy."
Percival blanched and put down his pastry. "I'm not sure if that's the best idea, arriving unannounced into Newt's home as a perfect stranger probably isn't the best first introduction."
She arched an eyebrow at him "Well if you refuse to make one..."
"You've been here for all of a few hours and you expect me to have already introduced you. I feel like this is more than your usual brand of paranoia, ma." He fixed her with a knowing look "What is it that's got you quite so worked up about this?"
She sighed sand seemed to relent then "The family is concerned Percival, between your…indecision and your cousin Lorcan's lack of any damned interest in anything that isn't himself, we're getting concerned that the untainted bloodline is going to end at you."
Percival sighed, rubbing his temples as he prepared himself for the same debate that he had gone through more times than he could count over the past twenty years or more. "Nothing has changed since the last time we had this conversation, I don't give damn about the Graves bloodline and while I know that you promised father you would do your best to keep it going, I see no reason why I should have to compromise on everything I value in order to do so. Lorcan will learn to grow up eventually, he's only twenty yet, there's still plenty of time for him to grow up and stop being such an ass."
"Like that's ever gonna happen." She practically snorted and Percival was tempted to agree – his younger cousin was an insufferable little shit; obsessed with gambling, work and fucking his way across the continental US. As much as Percival held a little respect for his prowess in the fields, he didn't at all appreciate the lack of subtlety or care he put into any of it; the boy was a selfish, entitled thug. But in the face of convincing his mother of the subject he didn't comment, and she sighed again.
"I hate to be the one to say this, but settling down, even briefly with a much younger man – a Brit and a weird one at that. One that knows more about the sort of thing that could sink our family… someone who has precisely no social standing but still has the ear of the public with his beast-talk and doesn't give you any chance of children isn't exactly what we had in mind when I let you have a bit of room to decide these things on your own."
"For the love of-" Percival was cut off with a clout to the side of the head from his mother and he looked at her, affronted at the repetition of an action she hadn't partaken in since he was maybe sixteen. He took a deep breath, gritting his teeth at the absurdity of how his mother had the ridiculous ability to make him feel like a damnable child again from the way she behaved – he was a senior Auror and well past the stage of being considered anything near a child. "This is my decision and as much as I would like you to respect that, I'm going to stay with Newt whether you approve or not. I trust and care for him regardless."
He'd always been taught to be stoic and polite by all members of his immediate family but now was not exactly the time when he thought that her approval on his love life was the most important thing going on. It was far from it in fact. He had a job to do, peace between the wizarding and No-Maj communities to maintain, a dark homicidal wizard to suss out and a sweet, stubborn magizoologist who was stuck in the middle of it to protect. The petty worries of his family about the Graves' bloodline and the family secrets were not something he wanted to waste time indulging his mother in - the only reason he had so thus far was because as much as they disagreed, he still loved her. She was his mother, of course he did, but he wasn't going to just stand around and listen to this drivel when there were considerably more important things at stake. Even discounting the threat to the peace Grindelwald still posed, one of the pressing issues for him personally still lay within the bastard's influences upon Newt and having left things in a less than ideal situation the last time he'd seen him, Percival felt the need to return to him more strongly than ever. In an effort to present some sort of middle ground however, Percival sighed and regarded his mother with a forcibly tolerant expression.
"I'll arrange it as soon as I can, but in the meantime, I would appreciate it if you stayed out of sight as much as you can, don't make yourself too conspicuous while you're here. I'm returning to London on business anyway so I'll ask, but I can make no promises."
She looked minorly appeased and he took this as acquiescence, moving to collect his coat and scarf from the rack, slipping them on over his customary dark suit before heading back over to the fireplace. He fixed her with one firm look before he left, intoning as respectfully as he could but still feeling somewhat as if he were telling a dog to stay. "Be careful when leaving or entering here from now on, its not safe for anyone in this climate, especially not for anyone connected to me. I'll see you later."
She nodded primly before Percival disappeared in a swirl of bright green flames. The familiarly unpleasant sensation of Floo-travel engulfed him briefly before he reappeared in the customary musty and lightly spiced scent of Newt's home. The smell of slight neglect and the fresh aroma of cooked food sweeping over him in a wave after the smoky smell had dissipated from his nostrils. The living room was empty, but he could hear voices coming from the kitchen that indicated that Newt wasn't as alone as he had been when Percival left, he tensed momentarily before he recognised Tina's dulcet tones. He entered just as the door was opening, Tina and Theseus looking at him in pleased surprise and resigned affront respectively.
"Morning." He greeted them before noticing the clock and amending "Or rather afternoon."
"We were just leaving." Tina hastened, gripping Theseus' arm even as the other looked somewhat mutinous, eying Percival with a shade more suspicion than usual. Percival stepped through the doorway and bid a half-hearted wave to both as they left, the front door shutting firmly behind them before the faint crack of apparition was heard. Newt was stood by the table, charming the last of the dishes into the cupboards before glancing over his shoulder to see Percival, as if noticing him for the first time despite his less than silent entrance.
He looked tired, not that was anything new, but the dark circles ringing his eyes and the tight set to the lines of his shoulders and face indicated a deeper tension than usual. Percival sensed instantly that there was something amiss, that Newt was going to bring him news that most certainly wasn't of the positive variety an inwardly sank a little at the thought of things worsening since the last time they spoke. The only thing he knew that could have likely caused such consternation overnight was the one thing that he had little control over – Grindelwald.
Newt was shifting from one foot to the other, looking as if he wanted to simultaneously sit, run and pace himself ragged but instead seemed to settle upon expelling the nervous energy by beckoning the Auror as he descended the stairs down to the cellar through the open door. Percival was tempted to question the slightly erratic behaviour judging by the set and pace of Newt's gait, but he saw that the young magizoologist was clearly intent upon something. Percival had to jog to keep pace with him and still lost him for a moment or two once he veered off underneath the culmination of the staircases into his odd little working space. When he rounded the last step and approached the still in motion Newt, he saw the younger man fiddling through his shelves, looking for something specific if the indiscernible muttering was anything to go by. Percival halted a few paces behind, watching indecisively as Newt fumbled for a few more moments before withdrawing a stoppered, full bottle of greenish-blue liquid, the Auror was about to question its purpose before Newt abruptly unstopped it and the distinctive smell hit his nostrils immediately. Wide-eye potion. And it was then that Percival's patience wore out then as he stepped forward, grabbing Newt's wrist in a firm grip, Newt looked up at him in surprise and carefully extricated himself from the grip.
"Calm down Percival, I know what I'm doing…or at least at the moment I do." He looked almost as uncertain as Percival felt and took a quick swig of the pungent liquid before Percival managed to wrest it from his grip, pulling it away and placing it on the counter behind him, placing himself firmly in front of it.
"Damn it, Newt, what are you doing? You know how dangerous this stuff can be and from what I've seen its not likely to make a difference to your…situation either."
"I-… I don't know what else to do at this point… I need something to-…" Newt's expression was desperate then, the calm façade bleeding through with fear that had Percival even more concerned, taking his partner by the arm and guiding him towards the shredded leather armchair nearby. He sat, but only perched himself on the very edge, as if afraid to relax and Percival hovered just in front, brows furrowed deeply and eyes dark with apprehension.
"Newt, just calm down, take a breath and tell me what happened."
Newt did as he asked but looked no calmer for it, a wild, barely contained panic simmering inside him that had Percival's every nerve on edge just witnessing it. "I need to stay awake as long as I can and I'm running out of ideas. I can't explain why but please… just trust me Percival, I need you to do something for me." His sea-blue eyes were wide and imploring and it drew Percival's response from his lips before he could even consider what would merit this kind of desperation from Newt.
"Of course."
"I need you to lock me up. Not in the Ministry or MACUSA or anywhere near people, just… just make sure that I can't get out. Throw everything you can at it. Please."
Whatever Percival had been expecting, it hadn't been that and his confusion doubled, brain swirling in anxiety as he caught Newt's wrists in a firm but gentle grip again, pulling them away from where they had been rubbing seemingly frantically at his eyes. They were red-rimmed and wide with an earnest plea, so much so that Percival understood the urgency without knowing the reasoning behind it. Newt was clearly scared - damn terrified of something and if Percival was going to bet any money, his bet would be on a certain sadistic fucking dark wizard.
"What did Grindelwald say? What did he do this time that's got you so worked up?"
Newt flinched at the words in his grip, eyes darting about, pupils fully dilating as the potion began to take effect on him, nervous, jittery energy seeming to practically roll off him now with every breath he took. "I-… it doesn't matter really. I just need you to trust me – believe that I wouldn't ask you to do this unless I truly had to."
"I trust you, Newt, don't doubt that, but I need a bit more to work with here. Are you in danger? Did he threaten you?" Newt looked hesitant, eyes skating over Percival with indecision and concern heavily prevalent in them. Percival's expression steeled in response and he eyed Newt carefully, spoke slowly. "He threatened to hurt me, didn't he? Or all of us? You're worried that he's going to do something if you tell me what's wrong?" The young magizoologist didn't respond verbally, instead merely inclining his head in a minute nod, unsure of even whether to make such a gesture and Percival felt further frustration flow through him. "There's no harm in telling me here and now is there though? I can protect myself against any of his minions and as long as we warn the others-"
Newt cut him off with further desperation clouding his wide blue-green eyes, he spoke hard and fast – like he was terrified he'd be stopped if he paused for even a second. "It's not his followers you need to worry about – it's me."
"I am worried about you, Newt, its why I'm trying to get you to tell me what the hell happened!"
"No, I mean that I'm the danger to you. Lock me up, please just do it." He was clutching at Percival's sleeves now, uncaring of how tight his grip was, eyes slightly unfocussed, seeming in their wild panic. His muscles seemed to be twitching, violent little movements beneath the skin as his body seemed almost at war with itself.
"What do you mean? Is he forcing you to do something for him?"
Newt tilted his head "Sort of, I don't know, I guess so, but it's not what's important. You need to do this or something bad is going to happen. I would explain better – I want to, but I don't think he'll let me." His eyes flickered with something hopeless then and it tugged hard at the strings of Percival's heart like nothing else. He regarded Newt for a long time, considering him and the little he knew or could guess of the situation. When he finally spoke, he did so with slow, sure clarity to ensure that Newt wouldn't misunderstand or become even more agitated than he already was – if that was possible.
"I'll do this for you, Newt. I will, but once I have, I need you to explain what is going on."
"You can't be anywhere near me, its dangerous enough you being here now. I don't know how much time I have or if I have any at all, but you need to really throw everything you have at this. Don't hold back because you think it would hurt me or because you think it would be too much – trust me, it won't be."
As much as Newt's words were digging into him like blunt, serrated knives, Percival nodded – trusting that his partner wouldn't ever ask this of him unless he had to. Trust that Newt knew what he was doing any that it wouldn't result in his own death. If Grindelwald was involved, then he could see the potential necessity in doubling any precautions, but it didn't mean that he had to like any of this. The idea of locking Newt up was horrible enough in itself but leaving him alone as the younger man was now requesting him to do and in this state was almost too much for him. He scoured his brain for a suitable solution – a place where he could do this and still leave Newt in some semblance of comfort but also keep him securely confined… when it eventually hit him, he could have groaned at the bloody typicality of the most efficient solution.
"Fine." He found himself almost snapping at Newt, but the younger man didn't look upset by the harshness of his tone, instead looking painstakingly hopeful, pushing himself to his feet.
"You'll do it?"
"Yes, but only because I trust you to know what you're doing and believe me, the moment I find a better solution, you'll be out of there before you can blink."
"Doesn't sound all that secure to me." Newt quipped, tone tense and Percival's glare melted away the pathetic attempt to lighten the mood quicker than Newt's small, forced smile could form on his lips. "Sorry, I just… I need you to do this and I don't know how much time I might have or what I might do to try to stop you and I need you to promise me that if I try to convince you to not do this or if I attack you or offer you anything you won't accept it. Don't trust anything I do or say after this, especially if I lose consciousness at any point. If it comes to a fight, just get out, don't bother trying to stop me unless I try to hurt anyone else." His eyes hardened then, chips of ice seeming to float through the wide-blown pupils as he regarded Percival with utter resolution. "If I try to hurt anyone, you must stop me… no matter what. Do whatever it takes."
Percival was frozen in a moment of horror at the cold tenacity he was witnessing then, despite the confusion and the multitude of questions roiling within him, the Auror sensed that at least for the time being, they should remain unasked. Newt was at a point of clear determination and desperation that he had never before seen in the younger man and he wasn't going to discount his wishes in what Newt seemed to be treating as a brief period of lucidity. He could find his answers once he had done what Newt asked, once the Brit was in a position that he felt he could act safely. Whatever was going on now that prompted Newt to think that he couldn't trust himself or that he thought he might hurt his friends was enough to convince Percival that it must be a necessary evil. Despite the compliance he was prepared to give to Newt's request to be locked up, Percival knew with utter certainty that even should Newt's fears prove to be well-founded and that he would become violent, there was no way he could ever kill Newt. Whilst the words were not spoken aloud, the implication had clearly been there in his words, his tone and his intense, almost unwavering gaze. He couldn't do that; not even for Newt.
Preparing himself to make a promise he knew he could never keep, Percival swallowed and nodded – breaking his own prior oath to never lie to Newt in that moment but sensing that the magizoologist would accept no less. "I swear that I won't let you harm anyone." He silently added 'including yourself' onto it to himself but left it at that and gestured towards the stairs, Newt following him with determined steps, but his eyes swept about the place and creatures with obvious reluctance.
"You will explain this to me, Newt, we don't have to be in the same room for that to happen so whatever you're so damn scared of happening probably won't. But I need a little confirmation on this." He saw Newt consider it from the corner of his vision up until they reached the top of the highest staircase and then he nodded resignedly. A thought occurred to Percival then, one that was no more comforting than the rest of the utter bilge swilling around inside his head at the recent turn of events but found that he was obliged by common sense to voice it anyway. "If you need to be locked up so badly then why not ask Dumbledore for help?"
Newt looked uncomfortable then, more so than before and paused for some time before replying "I suppose it couldn't hurt to ask him once I'm… restrained already but I doubt he would have agreed unless I explained and I'm pushing my luck just telling you a little of it now. Not even sure if it'll help as much as I want it to but it's the best plan I've got." He looked painfully dejected; resigned to his own fate but fighting against something apparently much worse. "It would take too long and there are…complications to consider with him and… well its just easier this way. I was hoping that you would trust me enough for this to work and I don't think Albus would've."
"If you're sure." Percival said, stopping just outside the front door where they could apparate from and eying Newt carefully, the younger man having seemingly been distracted with every detail around him until they left the house. It seemed like he was trying to absorb every sight and smell of his surroundings – as if was wasn't expecting to come back and for as many warning bells as it sounded in his head, Percival gritted his teeth and prepared to keep his promise. "You'll be breaking your travel ban so this will likely get your brother riled up, you could risk getting arrested - are you're still sure about this?"
"Yes, yes, just don't tell me where we're going. In fact, it would be better if I didn't know anything of it all, makes it more difficult for him to- never mind. Just… please, Percival?"
Percival's already massively strained sense of obligation and tolerance almost broke right then and there but he saw the look on Newt's face; the fear, the tenseness and the plea for trust that had got him to agree in the first place and cursed under his breath colourfully. Cursing Newt for his evasiveness and damn undeniable face, cursing Grindelwald for whatever the hell he had done to put Newt in such a state of desolation and decisiveness in the first place. And cursing himself for not being able to do anything but agree to Newt's requests. He trusted that Newt had good reasons and as much as it was obvious that he was doubting himself on a larger scale, the man in front of him right now was clearly completely sure of his intent. Despite the new levels of raw emotion that he was reaching, Newt was most definitely himself – not leading Percival to believe that whatever sick, confusing games were being employed right now were the intentions of Grindelwald directly. No, right now he felt fairly certain that Newt was just doing whatever he could to combat those plans – whatever they were – and that his aggravation and resolve was stemming from a place of good intention.
He wracked his brains trying to think of a way in which Newt locking himself up with Percival's help could benefit Grindelwald but past the possibility of the dark wizard having escaped and wanting Newt practically gift-wrapped for him when he arrived, he came up mostly blank. Even that scenario seemed unlikely as there was no reason for Percival to become involved in such an endeavour – surely because the sadistic bastard would be more than capable of imprisoning Newt of his own volition. With no solid facts to go on and the impression that Newt was more scared of him hurting others gave Percival little surety to work upon, but he forced himself to trust Newt and looked upon him once more before he pulled off his own scarf. Newt looked at him with some uncertainty before Percival lifted it up to hover in front of Newt's face and he twigged on, jaw tightened slightly but nodding hastily.
There were any number of charms that could have achieved a similar result but Percival felt hesitant to mess about with Newt's senses using magic so instead resorted to using something that would not only fulfil Newt's wish to not know where they were going but to leave a little of himself with his companion. The scarf smelled of his own cologne and he hoped that when the time came that he had to lock Newt up, it would bring him even a little comfort or familiarity. The young magizoologist often seemed to enjoy burying his nose in Percival's neck whenever they were intimate, and he had noticed that it always seemed to calm him a bit if he was in a period of unsurety. Whenever the flashbacks and memories seemed to overwhelm him and he looked uncertain as to whether Percival was who he appeared to be, he often resorted to such methods. Hopefully it would help now too.
Once Percival had finished tying the dark blue-grey material around his partner's eyes, he fixed his destination into his mind and with a sigh of resignation, gripped Newt's hand firmly in his and apparated. The cold wind was quick to buffet them, and Percival inwardly cursed at the shivers that instantly wracked Newt's frame, the younger man having forgone picking up any extra clothing or even his coat to cover himself in his urgency. The track along to the imposing grey slate-roofed building was long, muddy and partially waterlogged even at this time of year, but there was nothing for it but to guide the young magizoologist with a firm grip on his shoulders and hand. He had clearly placed his trust in Percival wholly and despite the apparently dire circumstances, Percival found himself feeling a slight warmth flooding his heart that after everything he had been though – what Grindelwald had exposed him to using his face – that Newt was allowing him this kind of control.
Percival took great care in guiding Newt through the partially submerged terrain of the track with a slow and accommodating pace until they reached the black lacquered, weather-worn front door. He didn't pause to admire the endless seeming stretch of empty moors and blank grey sky around them and fixed his mind solely upon the task at hand. Percival was careful to keep one hand gripping onto Newt's even as he was required to press one against the dark wood surface in order to gain entry. There was a hum of magic as the wards tested and then accepted his admission into the house and he breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled Newt's chilled form through and into the hallway. There was a screech of magic that flung itself towards Newt before Percival stepped in it's way, quickly intoning the required spell to override the presence of a stranger and gently squeezing Newt's hand in reassurance.
"Sorry about that, security measures and all."
Newt shook his head silently, lips pressed into a tight white line, standing with slumped shoulders and an unconscious seeming bob to his head, face turning this way and that as if trying to gauge the room even without his sight. Percival was tempted to remove it but decided against doing so at least until he had fulfilled Newt's request. He paused for maybe a minute, reaffirming the long neglected wardings on the house and feeling pleased to find them all still intact and sound, adding a few more stringent spells for good measure before stowing his wand back away and leading Newt back down the darkened corridor. The Auror ignited the burnished wall sconces as he went with a wave of his free hand, lighting the way as he reached the first step of the numerous staircases that led downward.
He had never had much reason to use this room and it wasn't the sort of place that one would particularly visit on a mere whim – much like the house itself, it was meant as a last resort, a safety precaution that would protect the occupant as well as those that resided outside it. For the first time in his life, Percival found himself feeling glad of his family's obsession with image alongside their severe paranoia and history of immensely powerful magical though admittedly also cursed bloodlines. Guiding Newt down the spiralling staircases took a longer time as he had to pause on a number of occasions to catch Newt as he stumbled on the uneven, chipped out stone steps, long gouge marks taken out of some of the lower steps and even parts of the walls. He got the impression after a while that Newt was becoming aware of the dubious purposes of the place he was being taken, likely both from the clear imprints of claw marks his fingers found along the wall and probably also from the smell that grew in strength as they descended. The scent that steeped the history of the darker elements of the Graves line for generations, even if it was now perhaps being used to an advantage past the bestial hereditation. If there was anyone who would recognise such a stench, it would probably be Newt.
Percival stopped finally at the door and he felt guilt eat further at him as he felt that what he had previously passed off as shivers of cold were actually of distress – he was scared as much as he was determined and it was enough so that Percival couldn't keep quiet any longer. "Newt, are you sure about this? I know you say you can't explain just yet but there must be something I can do that doesn't involve…this." He finished the sentence a little pathetically, gesturing futilely at the door and the subterranean hole they were about to enter despite knowing that Newt couldn't see it.
The young magizoologist shook his head, angling his head blindly towards where Percival's voice sounded and setting his shoulders as firmly as he could in a seemingly bolstering motion. "I'm sure, at least for now, until I can think of a long-term solution, but you have to promise me that whatever I do, you can't let me out. No matter what I say to you… or how much I might beg… you can't." He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing furiously even if his voice was hard as Dragon's hide and Percival released a pained exhale, rubbing a hand over his throbbing head. Newt took his silence for hesitation and his hand darted forward to grip Percival's arm tight, grip almost punishing in his clear desperation and head turned towards him, blindly seeking affirmation of his request. Lips tensed and posture indicating what his eyes couldn't tell.
"Yes, alright, but as soon as you're in there I need you to tell me what this is actually about. Newt, I need this to make some sense to me or I can't promise I will do it."
"I'll try, I promise, just please do it." He paused, throat bobbing furiously again before he spoke in a much quieter, hoarser, weaker sounding tone. "I love you and I'm sorry that you have to do this, but it really is the only way. It'll only be for a while… I hope."
Percival pressed a brief, fervent kiss to his lips before he withdrew his wand and opened the door with a complex series of motions that swung it open enough to guide Newt through, he drew him to the centre of the room, standing him in apex of the deeply carved prism of runes. He squeezed Newt's hand fleetingly one last time before he stepped back to the door of the room - out of the runes and breathed in once deeply in preparation and began to move his wand in sweeping, elegant but purposefully precise movements. With each sweep and slash of the instrument the carved symbols began to glow brightly in the near utter darkness of the underground room. What looked to be red dust floated from the very walls of the place as it was drawn inexorably to the carvings and they began to light up all around Newt, leaving him silhouetted in painful clarity against the harsh red light in the circle in the centre of the mass of runes. He was standing as still as he could though Percival could still see a tremor to his limbs that had him feel culpability further clinch through his senses when Newt gasped loudly, feeling the effects of the bindings strongly upon his body and likely his magic too. One arm came to snake around his stomach as if it were cramping abysmally and he let out a low moan before straightening again after a few more tense moments and the glow fading down to instead be a subtle red glimmer in the prismatic runes on the floor and walls.
Having not placed the wards himself before, Percival had a moment of uncertainty, concerned that they hadn't quite worked as they should have or that he had accidentally hurt Newt in his inexperience of the old family magic. The magic wasn't meant for entirely human beings and it could just as easily cause problems for not being used for its original intention. But then Newt offered a weak, blind smile in the same direction he had been facing when Percival left him in the room and seemed to relax a little.
"I'm not going to ask what in the name of Merlin that was or why you have such… thorough restraints so readily at hand but… thank you Percival." He paused, hands flexing in a clearly nervous gesture at his sides and Percival ached to just rush forwards and pull the visibly frightened Brit into his arms; get him the hell out of this blasted prison and its long and bloody history. But instead he restrained himself and resolved to instead get his answers as he finished the last of the safety measures; Newt had asked for him to not hold back and while he was hesitant to even do this much, he knew that Newt wouldn't ask for such treatment on a mere whim. He began thatching together a web of the most complex and simultaneously non-harmful wards as he could, flinching every time Newt did but steeling his resolve as the younger man didn't once cry or request that he halt in his work once.
As he continued his work, he addressed the Erumpent in the room "What did Grindelwald threaten to do? Why is he making you think you need to do this?"
Newt flinched a little more violently, both in reaction to the question and the latest ward it seemed but he also appeared to be relaxing a little into the web of wards that Percival was weaving – not like he enjoyed it of course, just as if some tension were being drawn from him with each restriction. "He… finally told me how he's been communicating with his followers - why they seem to be under the impression that he's free." He paused then, as if unsure, covered eyes instinctively tilting his head towards the ground at his feet and Percival tensed, pausing in his spellwork for a moment.
"He's loose?" His voice came out harsh and tense and Newt was quick to shake his head, even if he simultaneously shrugged in a non-comforting way.
"No, no, well… yes, sort of…his physical body is stuck in that cell as much as it ever was." He paused again, raising his head as his lips tightened again "Why've you stopped?" Percival gritted his teeth and continued his casting, Newt seeming to relax a little into the spells once more even as Percival's hands began to shake lightly under the strain and infuriation.
"So, what the hell is that meant to mean?"
Newt sighed, hand coming up fiddle lightly at the edge of the blindfold as if he wanted to remove it but was fighting against himself, muscles twitching under pale skin again. "Ge- Grindelwald has been using my body as an escape hatch of sorts for about as long as I've been connected to him – since I came back to London at least. He's been using the blood-bond in ways I didn't know were possible to essentially… I don't know… possess me when I'm asleep and then transfigure himself to look like he usually does to fool his followers." He sounded very much like he was trying to explain it away in as offhand a way as he could, but Percival could tell from every tremor that ran through him and the tension lined in every visible inch of his face that the very idea had left him terrified.
And Percival could damn well understand why – the rage, revulsion and indignation that rose up within him was likely only a trifle in the face of what Newt was likely experiencing with such a violating revelation. His own shaking hands had to stop in their movements for a second time as the urge to curse something into oblivion nearly overwhelmed him in that moment. He couldn't risk hurting Newt so instead stowed his wand back in its sheath and curled his trembling hands into irrepressibly tense fists, he only barely restrained himself from unleashing his fury on the nearest wall for the knowledge that as it was heavily warded, it would likely blast him back with enough force to damn near kill him. He forced himself to take several minutes worth of deep breaths in which Newt was oddly silent and whenever Percival opened his eyes long enough to see him, he saw his partner standing in the exact same position as he was before. His lips were slightly parted, as if we wanted to speak but also seeming to realise that Percival needed some time to gather himself and the American appreciated it – he didn't want to vent his immeasurable feelings of guilt and rage upon Newt. Especially not when he was already so vulnerable and obviously needed comfort – comfort that Percival couldn't give physically and so instead resorted to using his words once was surer that he wouldn't shout at the undeserving Brit.
"What-… how could none of us have noticed something like this? Your brother had an excess of wards over your place and you've got a travel ban…how did I not see this happening? Did you know? How long?" The questions streamed from him instead of the reassuring words he had prepared in his head and he cursed himself yet again even as Newt hastened to answer as best he could – seeming keen to placate and inform him as much as he could now that he was in a position where it would be more difficult for him to hurt Percival. A fear that the Auror could now understand with much more clarity than before. He could only add the thought of why Grindelwald wouldn't have used any of the numerous opportunities to end Percival that he most likely would've got. Not only would it likely have devastated Newt and turned him to a position where he might arguably be more susceptible to the dark wizard's advances, but it would've probably satisfied his own hatred for Percival at the same time. The Auror left it unasked in that instance however as he focussed on Newt's stilted, yet oddly ready replies.
"I only know what he told me, but my best guess is that he somehow managed to do a version of what I did when I hit him before – channelling my magic through his maybe, in order to do what he needed to so that he wouldn't be detected. I-…I don't know for sure how long but from what he said it was certainly as far back as the attack on those fanatics in their cells…" His voice cracked a little here and Percival felt his anger go up a notch further than he thought possible at the idea that Grindelwald had forced his demented will upon the world through Newt – leaving the guilt to weigh upon the shoulders of someone who was actually human enough to feel it. Newt continued a few moments later however, bolstering Percival's pride in his partner for staying so impressively steadfast in the face of the a seemingly endless stream of utter bullshit that was directed his way.
"He told me last night, made me fall asleep right in Henry's enclosure - didn't even know that he could do that." Percival nodded slightly, remembering the young magizoologist curled up against the creature's side and cursed himself for assuming that the behaviour was normal, even if there was nothing that he could have done to prevent it. "He only made me aware of it now because he knew he could control me, because he needed my consent this time because he wanted something physical from me. He gave me an ultimatum – give him the Elder Wand or he would start... he would h-hurt you, kill you even, using me– my body. that he would make you think it was me and that I-…t-that I wanted to-"
Newt cut himself off then with a dry sob and Percival had to step back then, turning away and moving to the bottommost steps in order to repeatedly slam his fist into the wall. He heard a dry cracking that he was sure wasn't made by the wall but his hand but couldn't care in that moment as he repeated the motion twice more, cursing but not crying out even as pain lanced from his bloody knuckles. The Auror heard Newt's voice then finally, crying out his name for what didn't sound to be the first time and turned back to the cell entrance to see the man standing, blind and panicked looking, hand reaching out sightlessly in front of him. Percival felt further guilt rise at the thoughtless, detrimental reaction that he hadn't been able to contain as it had clearly just caused Newt more pain, his lips parted and face pale with apprehension. "Percival!"
"I'm here, I'm sorry Newt-… I… I'm sorry."
Newt seemed to deflate a little then and lowered his arm slowly. "Please don't do that again, don't hurt yourself like that."
"I… won't." Percival breathed out heavily and withdrew his wand awkwardly with his left hand in order to fix the damage to his right before Newt could see it – if he ever agreed to take the damn blindfold off.
"I'm sorry I couldn't explain it before, but I wasn't sure if Gellert would let me tell you without trying something and I don't think I could hold him off even now that I know. He waits until I'm… in a deeper sleep before he takes over, but he can make me lose consciousness at will apparently now so… I can tell that he's been trying, I don't… I can't…"
He trailed off, letting the implications stand open for themselves and Percival murmured his assent. "I get it now, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that this has been happening, that I didn't notice and that I can't do anything to stop it." He couldn't find the proper words to fully express his regret and anger at the revelations or what he was now being forced to do because of Grindelwald's deplorable actions. But Newt was shaking his head before the blurred words were even fully from his lips.
"It's not your fault, Percy, I'm willing to bet he went to a lot of trouble to keep anyone from finding out about this – not even Albus knew and he's a part of the bloody bond." He tried for a weak smile then and gestured at wide to the cell he couldn't see but could no doubt feel humming with power all around him. "Anyway, you're doing as much as you can now, you're preventing me from hurting anyone else and stopping Grindelwald from getting the Elder Wand at the same time."
Realisation struck the American then as Newt mentioned the wand for the second time and he frowned deeply "How the hell did you end up with the Elder Wand in the first place? I thought that Dumbledore was meant to have it under lock and key to keep Grindelwald in his damn cell!"
Newt cringed slightly "He… I think that he may have distracted me with the Phoenix so that I could steal it for him – I was so engrossed in his rebirthing cycle that at the time I didn't notice the time lapse but… looking back on it I realise I was probably pretty stupid. He got me to pocket it and then made me sleep later so that I couldn't give it back to Albus after I had noticed it. I realise in now that I should've just given it to him straight away but at the time, I thought it might've been him that gave it to me… to keep it safe or something." He flushed a little then, as if embarrassed by such an assumption. "But I guess it doesn't matter all that much now… as it stood then I could only see a few paths left to me – give him the wand and assist his escape. Snap the damn thing and either give him the ability to escape or watch Gellert kill each of you and not be able to do anything to stop it. I could involve Albus and risk others being hurt because he wouldn't help without an explanation that would likely result in the same outcome as the last. And then I thought about this… if I could be locked away somewhere where I could at least not hurt anyone until a better solution could be thought up…I couldn't see a better choice to stop myself from hurting someone or giving him the wand without resorting to… well… killing myself, so… here we are." His voice was hoarse, quiet and only calm in the way that a man's is when he has no tears left to spare or fear left no express in wake if having considered it all a hundred times over.
"I can see why you thought this was a sound choice now I suppose… not that it makes me any happier… seeing you like this."
Newt offered a small shrug, looking even smaller than before, standing alone and sightless in the empty, darkened room, alit only by the red glow of the magic carvings in the walls and floor around him. "Thank you for trusting me enough to do this before I could explain but… you know what Grindelwald is capable of… if there's anything more you can throw at me it might be a good idea to do it now." The grimace on Newt's face told him that the younger man was no gladder about the situation than he was but knowing now that Grindelwald could potentially use Newt to hurt others when he inevitably fell asleep again, he got why the magizoologist was so paranoid.
"Fine, but… I will do everything I can to get you out of this. I'll go get your damn teacher and see if he has a way of fixing the mess that he started in the first fucking place."
Newt chuckled a little though it was an irreparably hollow sound that dug at Percival like shards of broken glass. "Thank you... I'm sorry that it had to come to this but I needed someone I could fully trust to do this… Albus, well, its difficult to know what goes on in his head half the time even with the bond and he wouldn't have done this without demanding an explanation and even then I doubt…" he trailed off and jerked his head back up suddenly "It doesn't matter. I suppose he's the only one who stands a chance of fixing this now and until he does, I need to be under enough restrictions to hold Gellert back."
"Why do you call him that?" The snappy question left Percival's lips before he could stop it and Newt flinched, head cocking in confusion before he clocked on a moment later and flushed slightly around the material covering the upper part of his face.
"I'm sorry, it's just habit, I guess. When you spend so much time connected to someone like this it feels… weird to address them like they're a stranger I suppose."
Percival nodded, unsatisfied by the response that he hadn't even expected to receive as he hadn't meant to ask in the first place. He quickly moved to change the subject and withdrew his wand with a heavy heart and hand. "I'll just finish up the defences if you still want me to…" Percival left the statement open-ended so that Newt could refuse it and half of him hoped that the younger man would just so that he wouldn't have to see Newt as a prisoner at his own hand. There was a part of him that was relieved he couldn't see Newt's widely expressive eyes as he moved to complete the restraints – trying to picture in his mind's eye that it was in fact Grindelwald that he was restricting and not just his sweet, blameless Newt.
It didn't help though as the magic-repressing manacles fixed them around Newt's wrists and ankles, clinking into life as they were summoned from upstairs where an alarming assortment of such items resided in a trunk. Though they were usually intended for physically stronger and more volatile forces than Newt he knew that their ability to expand or contract according to the wearer would come in useful should Grindelwald make an appearance in his own flesh. As an afterthought he conjured a second chain series to prevent Newt from reaching up to remove the blindfold, feeling guilty but knowing that Grindelwald was likely to try to take advantage of any weakness he might leave in the defences. The lightly copper toned curls on Newt's head shifted significantly, flopping into his face in a dishevelled mess as his stance drooped slightly under the weight of the metal, the arguably crude restraints weighing heavier than MACUSA approved ones may have. He adjusted quickly though, clearly not wanting to worry Percival as he widened his stance slightly, squaring his shoulders and rolling his ankles and wrists a bit as if to test the new feeling.
"I-… is it okay, I can loosen them off I you need-"
Newt shook his head hurriedly "No, this is fine. Good enough, I think. For now, at least." His head tilted again then and Percival felt that he was trying to regard him imploringly even without the use of his eyes. "I'm going to fall asleep at some point, Percy and anything I do or say to you after now… you can't trust me. Promise me that no matter what happens you won't let me out or give him the wand."
Knowing just how low Grindelwald was willing to go – the depths of the depravity he had already stooped to, it was certainly no stretch of the imagination that he would use Newt and the feelings Percival had for him to manipulate him into doing what he wanted. As much as it pained him to see Newt like this, he knew that letting him go at any point before Dumbledore could find a way to fix this was a terrible idea. This wasn't going to be easy by any stretch of the imagination for either of them and he was quick to reassure Newt in the only way he could right now. "I promise that I understand the dangers and I won't let you out until I'm sure you're completely you again."
Newt offered him a briefly watery smile where he stood blind and bound "Try and go easy on Albus will you?"
Percival huffed out an incredulous, pained huff of breath and muttered in a bitterly begrudging tone "I'll do my best but no promises."
"Thank you." Newt repeated, and the words echoed, sounding empty in the room but full in their meaning and Percival promised himself then that he wouldn't rest until he could ensure Newt's freedom and peace of mind. He didn't care if he had to tear apart Grindelwald with his bare hands to do it, but he would make this right again. as he closed and warded the door, he swore that the bastard would pay in some way for what he had done if it was the last thing he did.
A/N – bloody hell that was… difficult to write but hope twas okay as it read back.