"Oh, Turpentine erase me whole, 'cause I don't want to live my life alone, well, I was waiting for you all my life…
Set me free, my honeybee…
You didn't have to smile at me, your grin's the sweetest that I've ever seen but you did, yes, you did. You didn't have to offer your hand 'cause since I've kissed it, I am at your command but you did…
…Hello, goodbye, I'm rather crazy and I never thought I was crazy, but what do I know? I let myself go.
Hello, goodbye, t'was nice to know you, how I find myself without you, that I'll never know, I let myself go." – 'Honeybee' – Steam Powered Giraffe (Beautiful song that I think is a nice Percy/Newt)
Newt drew the blade across Gellert's throat swiftly but more softly than one would think his shuddering hands would allow. His aim wasn't to kill immediately;, it was a somewhat testing motion, to make concrete his theory that the two other men in the room were no longer unconnected, and when he glanced over his shoulder and saw Percival's wide, disbelieving eyes but more importantly his uncut throat, Newt instantly began to deepen the cut. However, he was thrown backwards onto the floor before he could complete the motion., Gellert's neck was bleeding though, the slit wide but thin, the man's hand grasping almost expertly at the severed flesh, pinching it together and angling his head back in such a way that he did not begin choking on the blood that was slipping over his pale fingers. Grindelwald's eyes were alarmingly calm as he stood, expression tight and slightly furious but not surprised and Newt was swift to scramble back to his own feet, knife still clutched in his stained hand but now, without the limitation upon his magic from the chains, he turned the and threw a hand out toward Percival,. Aan alarming amount of power rushed outing from what should have been a weak, wandless gesture and he gaped as the restraints on his partner all snapped away with brutal finality.
Newt lost track of Percival's reaction beyondexcept for the animalistic growls and snapping of bones as he was tackled into the table, Gellert's bare form pressing into his own once more., Newt flinched, as he was once again pinned between wood and the man atop him, gritting his teeth and bringing the knife up to slash at him. The movement was caught by Gellert's spare hand and Newt didn't even have time to register his shock as the dark wizard twisted the blade from his hand and slammed it through Newt's hand and into the lacquered wooden surface, pinning the appendage to the table. He was too shocked to even scream and instead muted his agony to a whimper, curling up on his side on the table in a feeble, instinctive attempt to protect the pierced hand. He looked up in fear, expecting Gellert to descend upon him once more, but was shocked to find the man backing away from the form of a hulking, barely humanoid Percival. His limbs were stretched, muscled and furred as that of the true form of the werewolf but his face looked caught between both forms; muzzle shorter, a humanness to the eyes and the black-silver sheen to his thicker fur that didn't appear quite like the other werewolves Newt had encountered. Gellert was backing away fast, leading the werewolf around toward the other side of the room from where Newt was pinned and if Newt didn't know any better, he could've sworn that the man both looked afraid and that he was trying to lead Percival away from Newt's vicinity. As thoughis he was were suddenly so worriedconcerned for Newt's wellbeing again after what he'd done. The man's temperament was so mercurial that was switching so fast he Newt felt likecould swear he was getting whiplash.
Speaking of which, Newt could only watch in agonized, frozen horror as Percival lunged for the man, teeth aiming to tear, to kill, and Newt was caught in a moment of panicked indecision,: he had felt so ready, up until now, to see Grindelwald die. Even to have deal that death be by his own hand. bBut now that he was faced with the imminent prospect of this bestial form of his partner tearing the dark wizard's throat out…it suddenly became far less clean- cut. He saw Gellert pinned under Percival's hulking form, his arms and legs trapped beneath huge paws tipped with razor-sharp claws, claws and jaws that would alter him irrevocably even if they didn't kill…and saw how Gellert made no move to defend himself. Neither with his immense magical strength nor by even so much as a shove: Grindelwald was unable or unwilling to move to out from under the werewolf's weight and rage.
It was instinct. The need he felt to protect all life overshadoweding his desire for revenge in an instant as he Newt threw out a hand, sending the nearest silver pitcher slamming into the back of the werewolf's head. Whilst it was not enough to knock him out, it was enough to momentarily stun and distract him. With a grit-teeth yell of agony, Newt jerked the knife from his hand in one abrupt movement, holding up his bleeding hand aloft for the wolf to see and scent. Percival's fully transformed amber eyes zeroed in on the gaping holebleeding wound, sensing a better meal, a more exciting chase and likely, a familiar scent as Newt turned on his heel and ran, he boltedbolting through the corridor and down the steps that led to the underground room. He heard the howl and panting breath close behind him, his stockinged feet pounding hard on stone steps as he flung himself around each bend with increasing momentum. He didn't even pause as he darted through the mercifully open cell door, throwing himself into the room but carefully avoiding the walls and the centre of the prism of runes. Newt was forced to stop then, and turn to face the approaching werewolf,; the movements of the creature were distinctly predatory as he paced closer, but annoyingly and typically enough, also skateding around the centre of the runes. Newt supposed rather distantly that all the transformations that had taken place in this room must've taught Percival's wolf self to be as perceptive as his human one.
Bugger his luck.
Newt instead reverted to the tactics that were much more familiar to him than trapping his loved ones with ancient runes and slipped into a half-crouch, eyes firm on Percival's wide amber eyes and palms pressed flat upon the slight slope of the floor. He began to speak, ignoring the sting of the wound on his palm against the cold stone and of the agony radiating through his lower regions at the movements. "Percival? I don't know how far gone you are right now but I suspect that you'll remember this tomorrow even if you can't act on it now,." Hhe swallowed thickly, throat stinging and voice scratchy from the Gellert's repeated attempts to strangle him as well as from the prolonged crying. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything that's happened tonight and almost all the nights before it, but I know that you killing Gellert like this wouldn't be…" he paused, unsure of the right word to use before he settled on merely saying, "It wouldn't have made everything better."
Percival growled, deep in his throat and dropped to all fours, loping ever nearer and though Newt held his ground, he waved his non-supporting hand at the door, shutting it and sealing the room., tThe wolf's head snapped around at the sound before looking back to Newt with bared teeth and he leapt forward. He ended up barely missing Newt as the Magizoologist rolled to the side before rising back up into his crouch, eyes set upon Percival's and voice continuing evenly., "There now, neither one of us is leaving this room until you're human again."
Percival snarled and lunged for him again and this time, Newt's aching, battered body wasn't quick enough and the wolf quickly swiftly pinned him in a similar wayjust as he had Gellert earlier, though unfortunately sticking aa paw landed ontodirectly upon Newt's injured hand, and he screamed., tThe pressure on the wound was unbearable when added to the multitude of other pressures on his overtaxed body. Out of some bizarre instinct, Newt pressed his face forward into the pinning wolf's shoulder, burying his face in black-silver sheened fur and a familiar scent that was marred by the tinges of fur, blood and something earthy and animalistic that somehow suited this meeting of the forms of the man he knew and the beast.
Then the oddest thing happened – odder even than Newt's reaction to the pain – Percival froze above him, his breath was coming out in low, growling pants, but he didn't move to kill, looking down at Newt with large, wide eyes. Newt returned the stare for a few moments more before Percival lifted his paw from Newt's hand and the Magizoologist gingerly drew it up to cradle it on to his chest, resting it protectively just above the new scar that resided over his hammering heart. He was further baffled though somewhat touched when the werewolf leant forward and placed a gentle though probably not particularly hygienic lick on over the punctured palm. Percival nuzzled his nose into the hand and despite the pain that radiated through him, he Newt curled his fingers gently over the wolf's nose, running a single touch over the snout and letting out a choked, slightly shaky breath as Percival seemed to accept it.
The werewolf manoeuvred himself so that he wasn't quite astride Newt anymore, still pinning him but moving so that the mostly naked Magizoologist was pressed up against his warm, furred side. One foreleg slung over Newt's form and keeping the shivering man against him, the cold dampness of Percival's nose pressing into the back of Newt's neck and making the Brit giggle slightly at the sheer absurdity of the situation. To be half-smothered under a pile of snuggling werewolf.
Newt attempted to shift into a slightly more comfortable position, perfectly willing to accept whatever calm and possessiveness had come across Percival's wolf form, buit there was a warning grumble against his throat at the movement and Newt instantly stilled, sighing out a slightly hysterical laugh as the werewolf rolled over onto him that bit more. It was almost like he was trying to keep Newt safe and warm – like he was his mate as would be seen inper the wolf world hierarchy., Newt stayed still, forcing his stiff, abused muscles to relax into the other's form, praying that he wouldn't be eaten, bitten or scratched at some point during the night. He wasn't sure just how long Percival would actually be left in this state but such a sudden wave of exhaustion and pain-fuelled lethargy washed over him that he didn't much care right then. He was sore, humiliated, utterly drained and in a great deal of pain. If his fate was to be eaten by his partner in his sleep then so be it as long as the werewolf didn't wake him up to do so. Any peace sounded good right about now.
His sleep-slipping mind floated momentarily to Gellert and where and what he was doing but whether he was lying dead in a pool of blood or completely healed and fleeing, Newt didn't know or much care – he was reasonably sure that the wizard couldn't get past the Graves-family blood bound locks and seals on the door. But even if he did, there wasn't much more he could do to Newt at this point. Percival could clearly take care of himself if Gellert's earlier behaviour was any gauge and as Newt drifted further away, he couldn't help but smile at being wrapped in the comforting warmth of someone who wasn't going to try to make him feel better about it all with words. That the simple contact and scent was all that the wolf Percival would and could offer.
He wasn't sure when he actually fell asleep at his transformed partner's side but when he woke up hours later it was to the sound of the cell door clicking open,. Newthe jerked under the heavy, hot weight that lay atop him, trying to see toward the door and prepare himself for whoever came through it. However, his panic overrode took him him aswhen he found that he couldn't move and that there was a very naked, very confining man pinning him down. and dDespite the knowledgeing that it was likely only Percival, his Newt's muddled mind couldn't quite believe with any degree of certainty that it was that simple. There had been too many tricks and impersonations for that. He flailed, struggling out from under the other, stinging hands meeting the cold stone and scrambling up the wall and away from where Percival's sleepy, bloodshot eyes were blinking over at him in confusion. It could've been the receding presence of the crimson shade of the runes carved into the floor upon which they rested but Newt could've sworn that there was a copper tone to Percival's skin, a fiery colour that shimmered and shook until he blinked and it simmered down again.
"Newt?" he yawned, stifling the motion with one hand, eyes widening as he took in both their naked forms and, Newt's obvious panic, and then he jolted as if shocked when Newt suspected he remembered the night before. He scrambled up too, eyes cautious, haunted and hard, looking at Newt with a hand held out in supplication in an echo of similar way that Newt's gesture had the night before. When he spoke again, his voice was almost as hoarse as Newt's strangled tones,. "Jesus! Oh sweet Christ, Newt, I'm sorry, I-"
He stopped when Newt began shaking his head and paused, clearly waiting for the younger man to interrupt but Newt couldn't seem to stop shaking, neither his head nor the full-body tremors that rippled through him. Newt tore his eyes away from Percival, trying to focus on something bland and blank to calm himself down but instead, his eyes found the stockings and garters still encasing his trembling legs. The Magizoologist found himself irrationally angry at them still being there, after everything else had been so thoroughly stripped away from him. He tore at the flimsy material, accidentally snapping himself with the elastic of the material as he rid himself of both in quick succession, fingers numbly still pulling at them, shredding and unravelling in an insentientunconscious frenzy. He only stopped when he felt warm, trembling hands on his own;, freezing his movements and Newt could only focus on the image of the split skin on Percival's slightly knobbly- looking knuckles, the prominent veins against his wrist, the way his thumb was running softly over the edge of Newt's.
Newt's breath began to speed up again, eyes hazing in and out of focus on the image before he slid down the wall, back down to the ground with a low cry and a hiss as all of his aches and agonies flared up at once in protest. Percival followed him down, crouched slightly further down the sloped floor and with eyes careful on himeyes that were both, searching and pitying,. iIt hurt to look at and Newt fixed his eyes back on his own bare feet instead. He almost wished the beast Percival back, the one that couldn't burn him with knowing looks and sympathetic, insufficient words – for him to give the same sort of comfort that Newt always sought from creatures. An acknowledgement of pain or distress through simple contact and scent but no overly painful attempts to right what they couldn't. Simply being there. He wanted to say something, to explain it, but then he remembered the open cell door, head jerking over to where the entrance stood empty, no sign of anyone there and thankfully though suspiciously, no Gellert.
"It's timed to release and open automatically when the sun rises, bit of a failsafe in case the…um, occupant isn't feeling up to getting six-inch steel open.," Percival explained and Newt nodded absently, attempting to get his legs up under him and succeeding after a few stumbling steps, winching as he felt something sticky and damp crack and drip down his thighs in thin trails, the movement splitting open broken skin and things he didn't want to think about.
"Newt? Newt? Where do you think you're going?" Percival was scrambling up stiffly, equally though differently pained as he followed Newt out the door and both grimaced as they began the climb back to the main house.
"Gellert,." Ccame Newt's soft reply and Percival's dark brows furrowed but he hastened to follow closer, hovering at Newt's heels despite the pain and stiffness running through both men., aAfter the first ten steps, Newt glanced over his shoulder and noticed the equal parts determination and pain in Percival's face, in every line of his bare body and reached out a careful hand. Percival jolted in slight shock as his eyes slid from the steps straight to Newt when the Magizoologist's hand touched his bare shoulder and Newt encouraged the man to lean on him, returning the support and as they continued to climb, they ended up helping each other, acting as mutual supports.
Not a word passed between them until they were just nearing the top of the winding staircase and Percival finally spoke, panting a little in deep breaths that shook both men. His dark eyes coaxeding Newt's to meet his gaze and the Magizoologist did so only as the Auror spoke; "What do you want to do with him? I mean, if he is up there still. You tried to kill him but then you stopped me. Would you rather be the one to do it?"
Newt hesitated before he responded softly, looking away, "I honestly don't know. He deserves it. This is probably the first time I could say that of anyone or anything but…" he paused, again searching for words to properly express how he felt about it without adding to the encroaching stress lines wrinkling Percival's forehead. "I feel as if killing him wouldn't solve anything. It wouldn't stop me being scared or paranoid or make me feel any sort of justice had been done. Even if he was dead the things he'd done would just go away with him. I don't think adding another death to all this would be the solution it would seem to be."
"You don't have to be responsible, you know. You could just leave it to me and it would be over quick,." Percival offered, eyes hard and furious but also curious.
"I'd still feel as if I were,." Newt murmured, stepping hesitantly out into the corridor and glancing up to the stairs before holding out a hand, summoning two sets of clothing to him, passing shirt and trousers on before painfully slipping on his own. He could feel the awful mess staining his thighs still and without looking down, he cast a nonverbal cleaning spell that left his skin tingling and feeling as if he had been scoured clean with a firm wired brush, something dark but bright flashing behind his eyes as he did so. It was better than the disgusting, cloying feeling however and as he gingerly fastened both trousers and shirt, he let out a soft, hoarse sigh that caught in his throat as he registered a strong whiff of juniper from the shirt and noted how it was that bit too finely made and was a bit short and loose on him. Newt shuddered but not having any other alternatives than the one that had been summoned to him, he simply left the stolen garment be on his trembling shoulders.
"Newt…is there another reason why you want him to live?" As Newt turned sharply, he could tell that Percival regretted the words the moment that they left his mouth, the Auror almost cringing but stubbornly not backtracking.
Newt sighed, understanding the reasoning behind the question after what Percival had witnessed. "I…I told Gellert the same thing I'll tell you. I want to be honest in this." He took a breath, glancing around before continuing in a sedated, dull tone that took most of his energy to maintain "I feel…different when I'm with him. You were sort of right when you said he would change me. I'm scared of what I'm like and you…" he swallowed thickly, sorely "-you saw what I did, how I reacted and as much as I'd like to blame it solely upon him, I can't ignore my agency in this. It wouldn't be fair." His expression hardened as he met Percival's gaze directly "I don't want to be with him. I pity him, maybe, I understand more than I ever wanted to and I…find him attractive…can't ignore that damn allure that brings in all his followers and Albus, as much as I try. But I don't want him."
He reached forward and gripped Percival's hand softly, fully ready to release him if the Auror withdrew. Thankfully he didn't as Newt finished "I love you. I want to be with you and I want Gellert out of both of our lives. I never want to think of him as a real thing ever again. Him being dead would make him more real to me. Him being locked up, away from me and you and everything…that would let me…let me move on, I think…as much as that's ever likely to happen, that is."
"I…I think I understand." Percival spoke slowly, stilting as he began the customary rubbing of his thumb over Newt's where their hands joined between them. "After-…after seeing…after feeling all of this I understand. I get it, Newt, I really do and I'm sorry…I'm so sorry that this happened to you again and that I didn't stop it but…" his scarred lips cracked into a slight smile "I think I should thank you." at Newt's questioning look he clarified "For getting me loose, for getting to the cell and calming me down so that I didn't hurt you."
Newt's lips twitched up too, deadened eyes shimmering with a teasing look "I was meaning to say something about that actually – what bloody kind of werewolf are you that you cuddle up with your dinner instead of eating it?"
Percival chuckled slightly, cheeks colouring very slightly in an adorable manner "Well I uh…I believe it may have been because I – my wolf side, that is – recognised you as what I thought of as being my mate." Newt's slight smile was bemused and teasing and Percival froze for a few moments before glowering "And you knew that anyway didn't you? You just wanted me to say it aloud."
"Well I suspected…it hasn't been a very well documented thing for werewolves and human to couple up with any great degree of success. It usually results in one or the other being killed or changed." He tilted his head thoughtfully, glad of the distraction from the darkness lingering at the edges of his current path of thought. "But in the non-magical animal kingdom, wolves recognise their partners by scent above anything else. I suppose you must've recognised something familiar about me. You seemed to regret hurting me almost as soon as you did it."
Percival nodded "I remember it all…I remember my instincts telling me to keep you safe once I recognised it was you. I think even in that state I was trying to keep Grindelwald away from you."
"Well, maybe it's me who should be thanking you then," Newt replied before nodding toward the closed door down the hall from them, the entrance dark and feeling like a barrier between one state and the next. "We should probably deal with whatever is left to deal with here first."
Percival nodded, hand going instinctively toward his sleeve where his wand would usually be kept before a scowl flashed across his face "If we aren't going to kill him is there anything you'd particularly be against in the realms of bodily harm?"
Newt snorted slightly and moved forward to open the door even as Percival's expression remained black and dangerous. The Magizoologist opened the door with little hesitation, his capacity for anticipation somewhat worn thin by this point and he couldn't say that he was entirely surprised by the sight that greeted him.
Albus – a familiar midnight blue-robed form over a neat three-piece grey suit – was crouched over a limp Gellert, the man dressed once more though in something close to his usual attire and the wound on his neck slowly sealing itself shut under the ministrations of the Elder Wand. The dark wizard was thankfully bound, chains clamped around his wrists and ankles and though his eyes were open and aware, he was silent and sullen as he watched Dumbledore work. His white-blonde head was laid back against the cushions of the chaise from where he sat on the floor and Albus' non-wand hand was resting lightly though clearly warningly upon his collarbone as he worked the magic to heal the slit skin and muscle. Gellert's eyes, of course, rose to meet Newt's the second he stepped into the room and while he didn't try to move, a slender smile pulled up the corners of his lips.
Albus made sure to finish the line of invisible magic stitches before he turned his head to look at the newcomers "I thought it best to give you some privacy."
"What are you doing here? How in the hell did you get in?" Percival's voice was habitually aggressive toward Dumbledore as he stepped forward, hand flexing at his side repeatedly as if vying between the urge to fist it and strike someone or splayed to attempt wandless magic. Newt quickly came up behind him and pressed a soothing hand to the knots of his shoulder, he relaxed a fraction but still glared between both men, anger and tension vibrating off of him in tangible waves.
Albus, for his part, remained unmoved though there was a tightness around his eyes and brows that signalled a deeper disquiet and Newt was unsurprised to think that the man knew everything that had occurred. The blue of his eyes brighter and almost leaking onto the lines of his face in their intensity. He silently held the Elder Wand aloft for Percival to see and the American snorted derisively, irritably. "Of course. Damn unbeatable wand must be useful for arriving too damn late to do anything useful."
"Percy." Newt admonished quietly and Percival shot him a warning look and for once, Newt heeded it, too tired in every way to attempt to quell the Auror's rage – it was thoroughly justified after all.
Albus brushed off his knees as he stood, stepping between the chained Grindelwald and the two thoroughly abused men. His too bright blue eyes zeroed in particularly upon Newt's injured hand where he was cradling it against his stomach, the blood, both dried and the thin trail of fresh soaking into the unintentionally pilfered shirt. He stepped forward and despite himself, Newt jerked back a step, hand leaving Percival's shoulder and instead, gripping the arm of the chair behind him, blunt nails pressing sharp indents into the wood. His breathing picked up and despite knowing that Albus was not a threat and that Gellert was chained and silent on the floor, his vision began to shimmer with a haze of dizzying colours again. It was almost like it had been after…after that first time and Newt had been nearing blindness but for the blur of colour, however, these colours were more cohesive, they weren't a blur but more a haze around each person in the room.
For instance, Gellert came as a deep navy colour, veined through strongly with black and silver; rich, dark, complex and conflicted.
Albus, a lighter azure, tracing along the edges with violet sparks – something cool, clear but tainted with power and mystery.
And when Newt turned his head to glance confusedly at Percival, he saw a deep amber colour, almost copper-toned with elements of a familiar mahogany bleeding though. It was a warm palette, strong and metallic, hardened but softer and more conductive than the silvery steel of Gellert's aura.
Newt's wide eyes turned down to his own hand and saw that he too had developed some sort of glow, There were traces of a similarly copper tone to Percival's though glowing slightly brighter, more like gold but the predominant colour was of a deep forest green. There was a hint of silver running alongside the gold veins like an infection that flickered and festered in amongst the other colours, shading and tinting in vibrant spirals around his limbs. Newt blinked hard, reaching up with his uninjured hand to rub at his eyes, wondering if one too many blows to the head and attempts to strangle and traumatise him had finally caused his mind to snap. Enough so that he was seeing an odd tone of shining colour around every person in the room.
"Newt?" Albus' voice was cautious, strained and his eyes were wary, staying where he was and the Magizoologist nodded, attempting to ignore how the azure haze pulsed and shimmered distractingly around the elder wizard's face. "Will you let me assist you with your wounds?"
Newt breathed in once before exhaling again, slowly releasing his death grip on the chair behind him and stepping forward, holding out his perforated hand to Dumbledore who winced sympathetically, sending a disapproving glare over his shoulder before setting into the patterns of healing and knitting together more ruined flesh. With the Elder Wand and Dumbledore's no doubt practised healing skills, the gash was soon sealed and with only a vague crawling, tingling light blue sensation itching the centre of his palm to evidence it ever being there. Albus' aura glowed more with purple as he attempted to meet Newt's eyes who was trying very hard not to look directly at the face of anyone in the room in an attempt to keep his dwindling focus in check.
"Is there anything else I can help with?" Newt could feel the attention flicking from his neck where bruises and bites still circled the tender skin down his chest where the partially unbuttoned shirt revealed the top of the heart-scar and then awkwardly, mortifyingly, lower. He went to shake his head, unwilling to have his mentor and perhaps oldest friend witness his debasement all over again in intimate detail by having to heal the internal damage and more possessive marks of Gellert's latest assault. He'd take care of it himself when he could. But then he paused in the refute when he thought of the scars on his heart – the literal ones – and turned the shake to a nod, numb, nimble fingers moving to unbutton the shirt a little more, revealing the puckered white star of a scar. Albus' brows furrowed in question and reached out to brush curious fingers over the mark before pausing just above the shivering chest, raising a brow for permission until Newt nodded jerkily and allowed the contact.
"How was this made?" Albus asked, two fingers pressing gingerly around the edges of the scar and Newt grimaced but oddly didn't feel too much pain, he supposed that the phoenix tears must've done their job.
"Knife – the same one you two used to take the bond out of me, I think." Albus' head jerked around to look at Gellert who was smiling wanly and at the accusing gaze he merely shrugged, manacles clinking slightly on his wrists where they lay in his lap, one leg stretched out casually and the other brought up.
"How deep was it and how is it that it is now healed?" came the sharp follow-up questions
"He carved something into my heart, angled the blade to scrape it." He forced his tone steady but he couldn't help the flashes of agonised memory from flaring up behind his eyes, souring his green-silver-copper colour with flashes of alarming crimson. He clenched his hands at his side reflexively even as Albus' hand withdrew and he instead began to wave the Elder Wand over it in testing, tentative patterns. "It was healed by Phoenix tears."
"Credence's or Fawkes'?"
Newt blinked, gritting his teeth against the fiery tingling sensation running through his heart and bloodstream but biting out his question nonetheless "Credence, I think but how did you know about that?"
Albus didn't look up from his work and spoke in a distracted tone as he worked seemingly complex and invasive spells over Newt's wound, apparently attempting to seek out the runes carved into his heart and likely the purpose of them too. "He came to me several times during his free periods. He felt understandably conflicted about his changing form and his magic and claimed he still wanted my help and advice, so I provided it. I was, however, unaware that he was in contact with Gellert too and that he had taken up semi-permanent residence within your case. He came to me in quite a state and warned me of what had occurred here."
"He's been what?" Percival's exclamation had Newt wincing slightly
Newt floundered a little as remembered that Percival knew nothing of Credence's location, state or where he had been. He rubbed a hand over the back of his head and explained "I'm sorry, I had just managed to convince him to let me tell you but…things-" his eyes flickered over to Gellert who raised one chained hand in a jovial mock-salute "-got in the way."
"And how long have you been aware of this exactly?" The Aurors' tone was patient though strained.
"Only since just after you left the safehouse after we…talked. I climbed up the cliff to check on the phoenix and found Credence. He can take a phoenix form too now." He smiled a little proudly, fondly and Percival looked as if he wanted to roll his eyes but resisted the temptation only due to the grim circumstances.
"Of course he can." The Auror scoffed "I suppose that I should call off the hunt for him when we get back to New York then."
"We?" Newt quoted curiously and this time Percival really did roll his eyes.
"If I'm to call off three international manhunts it might help if you were there to at least make a statement. You don't have to tell anyone what happened here – just to show your face and as a secondary witness that that" a jab of his thumb angrily toward Grindelwald "is actually imprisoned again." He turned eyes of simmering red-hot copper and coals to Dumbledore "That is what you're planning to do with him I suppose? Lock him up and keep him down. Unless you're willing to finally admit that he's better off dead."
Albus blinked, having seemingly been lost in a trance of his investigative spells and turned with a deep frown to glance between all three watching men "Yes, yes, that is my intention. To restrain him again, that is. He shouldn't be able to use Newt as an escape anymore or make any connection past what has already been done."
"And what has been done?" Newt asked, voice low and tense, buttoning up the shirt again as Dumbledore stepped back looking weary. The teacher stared at Gellert for a long few moments, the latter making a silent 'all-yours' gesture with raised brows and Albus sighed resignedly, both turning back to face Newt. Gellert with an almost blissful smile upon his face and Albus with exhaustion and dejectedness though also a hint of wonder sparking the violet surrounding him all the brighter.
"Gellert has given all his magic to you."
Newt stared.
"That was what the carvings to your heart did."
Newt stared.
"But he did magic after doing that!" Percival protested and though Newt didn't turn to look at him he could imagine the copper glowing brighter about him.
He heard a sigh from Albus as the azure faded slightly "It would have taken some time to take effect, any magic he did do would have only quickened the process of draining it into Newt."
"But why?" Percival cried and Newt couldn't seem to tear his gaze away from the beaming Grindelwald whose eyes were soft and coaxing.
"That, I cannot say," Albus replied before his gaze snapped over to Gellert and his head tilted for a few moments before he nodded subtly and spoke by way to translation for the conspicuously silent dark wizard "He…he says that if he is destined to be apart from his magic for the remainder of his life then he at least wants it to go to one that might make a little mischief and use of it." He paused before managing to grit out "A final gift…and an apology." His expression morphed into one of disgust and anger and he rounded on Gellert again "I am not saying that. You gave your excuses now-"
"Tell me what he said." Newt spoke wearily, eyes finally moving from Gellert to Albus, focussing on the angry azure haze until his eyes blurred.
"He said that…he wants a part of him to…always be inside of you." The words sounded positively painful.
Newt nodded numbly, stepping around Albus and looking down at Gellert with utter blankness before he crouched and looked the dark wizard directly in the eyes, taking in the fulness and complexity of the haze surrounding him. There was a temptation to hurt him then, nothing stopping him but he didn't. Didn't give him the satisfaction of the violence nor the emotion and simply said. "I don't care if your magic is in me. I'm not going to see you ever again. I don't care what happens to you now. It is my hope that you will never be my problem or anyone's other than Albus' ever again."
He stood, turning his back upon all of them and left the room, feeling his scarred heart thumping hard against his ribcage and his sight wavering as he ascended the stairs. He went to where his case still thankfully resided upon the desk in the closest bedroom, purposefully not looking at the blood-stained sheets, torn yellow silk and the stained blade that littered the room. Newt paused at the cases' entrance, inhaling sharply before descending stiffly into it with scant few groans of discomfort. When he reached solid ground he was quick to stumble over to his bed, snagging an all too familiar vial from under his mattress, he rolled it between his fingers, eying the dark liquid, knowing the taste of peppermint and off-alcohol from the almost constant taste of it after his fall so long ago. He knew it would numb everything he felt pushing and pulling on him, the strum of energy within him that he found much disquieting now that he knew it was the flow of Grindelwald's magical essence adding and trying to combine with his own.
But then again, Percival would be around to notice him dosing himself into oblivion this time around. He felt no inclination to run like before:, he wanted to be close to Percival and didn't fear it. hHe didn't fear the intimacy and there were no lingering remnants of trauma that were overwhelming him – he remembered it but it did not control him. He supposed that enough prolonged exposure to the insanity and abuse was inevitably going to force him to reach a point of either solidifying or breaking. And he didn't want to break.
He felt strong.
Despite his physical and mental infirmities, he felt…grounded. Sure in Percival's acceptance of all he had admitted, had sensed the truth of the acceptance from his love's aura – whatever that truly was. The main thing he felt was a combination of sullied relief and exhaustion. He sat there, staring down at the vial for a long time before he heard footsteps on the wooden slats of the shed's floor and familiar pair of shiny black shoes stepped forward. He smiled wanly.
"What are you planning to do with that?" Percival asked, hands in pockets and a non-judgmental look on his face though the copper tone shone still. "And are you willing to share?"
Newt snorted before tossing it one-handed to Percival, the Auror caught it and moved to sit upon the bed next to him but halted as a stirring, irritable Occamy hissed up at him. Newt held out a coaxing hand and the serpentine creature curled itself up his arm to then wrap around his shoulders, draping like a scarf and nuzzling briefly against his neck before nipping his shoulder blade. The Occamy was soon settled asleep in a subtle, pulsing turquoise glow and Percival sat on the vacated spot with the vial held in his hands.
"Get rid of it."
"You sure?" Percival quirked an eyebrow "I mean, if it helps..." he left the implication hanging there and Newt shook his head softly.
"I managed to get myself off it before and I don't want it now. I'm taking that as a good sign."
"Newt..." Percival paused, clearly hesitant "I know everything that happened up there. I felt what he felt because of how he connected us." Darkness swept across his face again and his colours grew brighter. "I wouldn't...I wouldn't be surprised if you...needed something...you know, for the pain and...and what he did, what he said to you. I won't stop you but I want you to know that I'll be here every step of the way."
"I suspected as much," Newt muttered, and it was true but it didn't mean that the confirmation of his fears didn't sting. "But really, Percy, I don't need it. I know what he did and I'm sorry that you had to...had to witness that but I don't think numbing myself into oblivion will help me get better. It'll become a crutch and I need to deal with this on my strength alone." He hated mirroring Gellert's words but knew that there was some truth in them as he smiled weakly at Percival. "I still want you with me. That hasn't changed. I still love you and I don't think I've got any more ability to dwell on what that bastard has done to me. I'm tapped out on that front. I want to move past this. Not forget – I know that doesn't help anything - but just move on."
He reached out and gently stroked Percival's wounded cheek, his scarred lip and smiled. "Will you help me do that?"
"Of course. Anything you need."
"Thank you, Percival."
The kiss they shared was short but sweet and Newt was further relieved when no flashes of images or stars flickered behind his eyes, no change of the tone that shone brightly even through his closed lids, the copper tone warm and comforting. There were no tricks here. It was reassuring.
When Percival leaned back it was with at a hiss as the Occamy wrapping Newt's slender shoulders hissed and pecked at him where he had been pressing the creature's body too hard into Newt with the contact and he smiled abashedly, holding up hands in mock surrender. Newt caught one by his wrist and thought he would try something he usually would've been pretty rubbish at. He passed a hand over Percival's, letting some of the bubbling energy within him leak out in a healing aura that appeared in a sunshine tinted golden-white glow as the cracked knuckles, singed and strained skin healed itself. He smiled, moving his hand over Percival's other hand and feeling his grin widen as the magic followed his intent and washed in a huge shining wave over the Auror, and though most of him was covered, Newt saw the tension and strain in his posture, muscles and expression ease significantly. The American let out a gasp and raised surprised eyes to meet Newt's.
The Magizoologist shrugged "If I'm going to have his magic then I may as well use it for something good."
"Just don't start another damn 'greater good' cult and I won't be complaining."
"See that you don't." Newt responded with a weakly teasing glimmer to his eyes before he sobered slightly and ventured "Percy, I'm going to ask you something and I'd really prefer it if you didn't overreact."
Percival sighed, elbows dropping forward to rest on his knees as he pressed both hands to his face wearily "That's my cue to start accepting some new level of depraved Grindelwald-related bullshit, isn't it?"
Newt shook his head "No, well, actually sort of, well... I don't actually know if this is his fault or not but I-"
"Just ask, Newt."
"You couldn't see that magic, could you?"
"How'd you mean? I felt it and I saw you moving your hands about." Dark brows furrowed further as he lowered his hands to clasp them atop his knees instead.
"No colour?" Newt pressed
"No…" said Percival slowly
"Ah, right then."
"Was I supposed to? Usually, you only get light or colour with a spell if its wandcast."
"I know that." Newt sighed before elaborating "Since I woke up earlier, I've been seeing people and magic in colours…like a haze or aura around each of you that changes a bit with your moods and magic."
Percival's eyes widened and he paused for some time before asking "And what does my…aura look like then?"
Newt smiled fondly as the aura in question brightened stronger with traces of mahogany-copper. Once he got past how distracting it all was it was really rather beautiful, casting his love's features in a coppery warm glow. "Sort of a slightly reddish-brown I think, like mahogany and copper. Reminds me of one of the Thestrals from back home – Wardwing."
"Well…alright then." Percival managed and Newt snorted slightly, nudging the Auror's arm lightly
"It suits you, though. Makes you seem…safer…more…you."
Percival looked confused at first before realisation dawned upon him and he wrapped an arm loosely around Newt's waist, careful this time of the coiled Occamy on his neck. "Does it bother you?"
Newt considered that "No. I mean, it's a little distracting but it makes it…easier to see things how they are."
"Then it doesn't bother me either." Percival said decisively and Newt smiled appreciatively. He wasn't sure if this accommodating attitude would last but he appreciated it, nonetheless.
"I imagine your mum isn't going to be too happy about all the mess, I rather think we should make some effort to clean up before we leave."
"What she doesn't know won't hurt her." He replied flippantly before amending "although it may hurt me when she does find out."
"Best avoid that then, eh?" Newt chuckled slightly but his eyes were serious as he stood up and stretched, hearing his bones crack slightly and moaning softly as his sore muscles and throbbing lower regions protested profusely. He looked around the shed for a pain tonic or some herbs he could chew on before realising that he'd already used up the last of his useful stock.
"Is there anything I can do?" Percival asked, pausing and looking back at Newt from where he was standing at the foot of the ladder. Newt was tempted to refuse as he had done with Dumbledore before a thought struck him and he gasped aloud, eyes going wide as he pressed a hand to his forehead, rubbing it crossly over his nose and mouth. "What? What is it?" Percival was over to him in a second and was gripping his upper arms in clear concern.
"Gellert's magic. It can't be used on me."
Comprehension dawned on the Auror's face "So what does that mean now that it's inside you? Surely by simply just being there, it's being used."
"I don't know. But I think that this may be Gellert's way of getting out of the unbreakable vow. It should be impossible but then again, so should magic like this." He said, pressing a hand to the scar over his thrumming heart.
"But what will it actually mean? Have you tried any magic on yourself yet?"
"No." Newt replied, brows furrowing before he decided "I need to see their arms. The burn marks. To see if either has spread. If they're even still there..."
Percival nodded and gestured for Newt to go up the ladder before him and both men were quick though uncomfortable to exit the case and go down the stairs. Newt banged the door open to the dining room, barely taking in the cleanliness or tidiness of the previously bloody and wrecked room. All he focussed upon was that both elder wizards were still there and Albus turned sharply to face them, frowning as Newt approached so intently, holding out a hand. "Your arm. I need to see your arm."
Though looking slightly puzzled, Albus did as asked and rolled up both sleeves, holding out bare forearms to the younger man. One blank and pale, scattered with light gingery-brown hair and the other twisted with rapidly fading scars. Bright blue and tainted-green zeroed in on the marked arm with alarm and Albus swiftly rounded on Gellert who was now sat upon the chaise, draped out like a particularly gothic, lazy cat. "For the love of-...Gellert, what have you done now?"
The wizard in question shrugged, grinning as Albus stepped forward and pulled up his sleeve too, revealing equally fading burns though his were doing so more slowly as they had been considerably angrier than Dumbledore's. Albus paused for some time, obviously listening to the other man's mental communication before he relayed the knowledge to Percival and Newt as they stood, tense in their united apprehension. "The unbreakable vow was rendered null by some incredibly dark, intricate, long-forgotten magic that I had no knowledge of. When he transferred his magic to you it made it so that Gellert's magic and your own was mingled, enough so that it became something new. Unique if you will." He sighed heavily "Half the magic of the original casters was rendered unrecognisable – as if Gellert had died." His voice was bitter as he summarised "Essentially, neither of us are held to the vow any longer." He shot an impressed, furious look over his shoulder, turning to half-face his former partner "You managed to break an unbreakable vow. Only you, Gellert, only you would've managed something like this." Albus was shaking his head disbelievingly but Newt could see the old awe in him, the impressed boy shining in bright blue, sparks of the violet reaching out unconsciously toward the silver of Gellert's smirking face.
"But what exactly were the parameters of this vow in the first place?" Percival asked, expression decidedly suspicious.
"The part that you were aware of was that Gellert could no longer use magic on Newt but that he was allowed visiting privileges. The part that we agreed to keep a secret was that I was not to challenge him until his visions had come to fruition and in return, he would not kill any of those close to myself or Newt. It was not a deal I was entirely satisfied with but as I'm sure you can understand, dealing at all came as a distinct...difficulty." The violet strains were stronger now, lining Albus' temples and flecking his bright eyes.
"What about the magic? Can I use it safely if it's...melded with my own?" Newt asked, "I mean, I have already just not on myself directly."
Albus nodded "As it is a new form of magic, I would advise sensible caution as with all matters but I believe that you shan't suffer any ill effects from using it upon either yourself or others." He paused, eyes flickering back to Gellert before he said: "It might warrant performing some now just in case I am mistaken as we would be in a better position to rectify matters rather than if you found trouble at a later date."
Newt nodded, considering for a moment before he raised a hand to his collarbone, where the Deathly Hallows mark lay still branded upon him after all this time and let his will seep out into his skin once more, feeling the dark magic and possessive branding almost as if the mark was his own working. It was disconcerting but as he felt the magic he also knew how to better unravel it where others' magic had failed to do so, he grasped on the end of the dark thread and pulled, unwinding it faster and faster until it spooled in his hand. A visible – to him at least – mess of magical yarn and he stood, staring at his outstretched hand for a few entranced, slightly disturbed moments before he released it. It fluttered in the air before darting back and seeping into him, disappearing into his scar where the runes resided beneath. He gasped, feeling the magic slowly dissipate back into him and settling indolently alongside his own with the rest of the foreign power but when he looked down at where the Deathly Hallows brand had resided, he found himself grinning to see it gone.
Percival stepped closer to him, drawing Newt's attention as he stroked a curious, almost awed finger down the smooth, pale, freckled skin and Newt flushed slightly both at the contact and at the realisation that the Auror had never seen that area unblemished before. Never seen it before Grindelwald's attacks. "Well, I guess that settles that then." He murmured and Newt nodded, blushing further before nodding his over Percival's broad shoulders at Gellert who was looking decidedly less pleased with himself than before and Albus who was inspecting a loose thread on the sleeve of his opulent robes. Percival rolled his eyes but stepped back. "Looks healed and Newt hasn't spontaneously combusted yet so I think it's time for you to get him out of here." His tone was brusque as he stared Dumbledore down in what Newt thought was really an unnecessarily aggressive alpha male manner but then again, the man had only been a fully-fledged werewolf less than a few hours before. "Now."
Albus inclined his head in Percival's direction politely "As you wish, Director Graves. I shall likely see you in the next few weeks anyway after I have secured him as I'm sure that your department will want further proof of Gellert's security arrangements, no doubt." He turned to Newt with a much softer look "I would recommend resting as much as you can for a stretch, Newt, and please, do try to keep out of trouble."
"I'll do my best." Newt replied with a soft, rather fragile smile.
"Oh and I almost forgot, on account of my joint efforts to tutor and guard Credence over the last year or so, I thought to keep tabs upon Miss Goldstein – Tina – and thought you might appreciate knowing that both she and your nephew are quite safe. Your brother saw the value in requesting assistance from me for the purposes of safe houses for his family, though I will say that he was rather reluctant to do so." He dug into the pocket of his robes and handed Newt a folded sheaf of charmed parchment, it glowed with a subtle azure magic but also with a pale rose coloured hue that reminded Newt fondly of Tina in a way he couldn't quite explain. Albus paused before tapping a finger on the sheaf of paper and adding with a somewhat abashed smile "I also took the liberty of sorting out some accommodation for you that I believe you may find suitable. It's something I have been working on for some time but have only finalised upon more recently."
Newt smiled bemusedly and took it, stowing it in his pocket with a promise to himself that he would visit both and help in any way he could.
"Thank you, Albus."
"None of that,." Dumbledore admonished crisply, though Newt could see the regret and anguish seeping through him, oozing in waves that slicked his aura and soaked his sight of him, the violet sparks growing ever stronger. They were still wrapping and flickering in amongst Gellert's and as Albus pulled the man to his feet by an arm, Newt noticed how the stiff grip softened a fraction, fingers curling and kneading just slightly into the other man's arm. It was oddly both comforting and concerning disconcerting to witnesssee. NewtHe made no comment as Albus gave the room a cursory sweep with his eyes, though made no movebut then Dumbledore made no move to stop Gellert when he stepped toward Newt with a hand outstretched, swiftly snatching Newt's wrist and pressing his lips to Newt's fingertips. The Magizoologist was breaking away before the motion was even complete but Percival's fist was faster,; it slammed hard into the man's jaw first, resulting in a satisfying crack before Percival followeding up swiftly by breaking his nose in spectacularly bloody fashion and then, as the dark wizard staggered, bringing his knee up hard into Grindelwald's crotch. Gellert fell to his knees with an open-mouthed exclamation of mute pain, eyes watering, nose crooked and bloody and a red mark already forming on his jaw. , hHis hands were hovereding over his no- doubt suffering family jewels but not quite touching as Percival glared down at him.
"You don't touch him. Never again."
The words were low and calm until the last two, which were hissed in such a way that promised more violence if Gellert so much as twitched wrong. Albus wasted no time in nodding to both hurriedly, reaffirming his grip on the suffering wizard's arm and wisely pulling him from the room before a crack of apparation could be heard. Newt could see the temptation to follow and inflict more aggression flowing strongly through the strengthened ruddy veins in Percival's aura and he was quick to step forward, wrapping both of his arms around Percival's broad, tremoring shoulders and holding him tighter than he ever remembered doing.
"It's alright. It's okay, it's all gonna be fine…" Newt's words blurred into one another as he buried his face, his stinging eyes and smarting cheeks and lips into Percival's shirt-clad shoulder, burrowing into the woody-hue that burned through his eyelids even when they were pressed tight shut. He wasn't aware of when he started crying but his tears soaked into the crumpled material he was submerged in., hHe felt Percival's warm hand, worn bury itself into his curls, combing through them in rough, desperate, caring motions that had shaking harder. Percival wasn't trying to hush him like Gellert would've, but simply brushing strong fingers through his unruly locks and being a solid, warm, familiar smelling anchor. Like when he was in his beast-form. Maybe he'd noticed. Maybe he'ds learnt. Or maybe he was just being Percival.
They only parted when Newt's aching legs threatened to give out and he sent a jolt of bolstering, healing magic out through himself in a silver-black flash that not only alleviated his more superficial aches but sent a rehabilitating effect through both men. Percival jumped slightly against him and drew back to look at Newt in surprise but also with odd traces of gratitude and something closer to apprehension. "I do believe that you just managed to do what a team of practised healers, myself and about a dozen different healing potions over the course of years couldn't."
The Auror snorted in disbelief and tugged up his shirt, revealing the webbing of scars on his side that had been inflicted during his captivity, or rather, where it had been. It was both astonishing and intoxicating to see the effect that so much magic could have in healing the man he loved and the scars he secretly despised in himself. He could understand just how Albus or Gellert could've gotten cocky and drunk on power like this. It wasn't just Gellert's power though, it was the addition of it to Newt's already substantial powers. He had never been any more powerful than the average wizard, but he had had the advantage of an…alternative education in the control and use of his powers. It had been directed more towards Herbology, healing, transfiguration and protective charms as they had been the ones that proved most useful in dealing with and helping magical creatures.
But to have the capacity to heal and help without the exhaustion and power-based limitations that came with being of a more average ability…well, it was exciting and it scared him. Newt had seen what power like that could do to people, just thinking of the bloody history of the Elder Wand alone…it was rather intimidating to think that a comparable power resided in him as a gift from Gellert Grindelwald himself. Not an honour or foot up to him like it would've been to one of his fanatics or a Ministry bureaucrat. He would in all honesty rather be rid of it but he knew that this sort of magic would not and could not simply wash away. , he didn't want to goAnd Newt didn't fancy going through any more convoluted, dark, dangerous magic rituals or deals with the devil to try to rid himself of it.
No, better that he had it and used it sparingly and only for the benefit of his creatures and those in need rather than leave it with Gellert. Even if the man had it but was magically bound, there would still always be a chance that he could escape and use that power for the same things he always did. It was better that Grindelwald never felt that magic…or Newt…ever again. Newt could do that to atone for all the wrong he'd done, suffered and allowed. He could do it.
A/N – Hey people, howdy I suppose, this ain't the last chapter as I said before, still got a chapter or two of epilogue left depending on how I pace things. Thanks so much for reading, reviewing and kudo'sing. I believe that the tag of 'The Author regrets nothing' and 'The Author regrets everything' would apply here.
Just as a side note to anyone interested, I'm aiming to continue writing other stuff and am hoping for prompts or suggestions of anything anyone would like to see me write, hit me up either in a review or on Tumblr at ThoseSadisticTendencies42
