Disclaimer: I don't own Rose Granger-Weasley, Newt Scamander or any other character created by J.K. Rowling. My aim is merely to entertain and play around with them a little.
Chapter forty-three: In which Theseus needs help
It took Rose four more days to 'fully' recover. In that, the Mexican Healers were only satisfied with her overall physical and mental health after she'd had more rest, and less frequent fits of residual pain.
According to the nurse who took care of her – or what Joao had translated, rather – it wasn't uncommon for people who had suffered long-held Cruciatus Curses to feel phantom pains. Still according to her, they'd fade in time.
Rose wished she could have had her Mum close by. Hermione Granger had notoriously been put through the same ordeal, this time put on her by Bellatrix Lestrange, and she could have told her daughter more about how to build her psyche back up again. Alas, Hermione Granger was not there at present; and besides, she had always eluded questions regarding what had happened at Malfoy Manor. Rose's Dad had always found it stupid. Uncle Harry and Aunt Luna appeared more understanding about it.
Newt and Tina did continue their weird rotations from her room to Theseus' during that time, with briefs encounters with Joao and even Credence and Nagini, who'd visited once. The young Obscurus was still penitent about his going to Grindelwald's side for a while, and it was easy to forgive his misdeeds when there hadn't actually been any misdeeds in the first place. Nagini seemed much more at ease with him by her side, though, and kept talking to him about Bunty and Yusuf, as if excited to connect the three people she appreciated most.
It was endearing.
The Brazilian Auror was the only one of their group to actually exit the hospital from time to time. He reported to the Mexican Ministry daily, and brought back news, either conclusive or not. So far, it appeared that Grindelwald had fled Latin and Central America for good. Rosier hadn't been talking yet, either.
Despite their 'chief revolutionary's' absence, the Brazilian Purebloods had continued carrying on illegal rallies and attacking Muggles and Muggleborns in the streets. Joao was worried that it was going to spread elsewhere, and was impatient to go back home and help.
He and Rose had definitely put behind their attraction to each other, and decided to remain friends. They still exchanged a bit, learning about each other's pet peeves and hobbies, which never failed to put a smile on the witch's face. How she wished she had fallen for someone like him…
Four days, and finally, she was able to get out of bed, and walk through the hospital corridors. Tina's limp was fully healed, and it was her who held Rose's arm as she wobbled through the door.
Nurses were busying themselves left and right amidst Aztec-themed walls and murals, and that same ambient noise that reminded Rose of a jungle. She breathed in deeply, concentrating hard on not stumbling onto legs that had been broken and weakened. She felt as if her knees would give way under her any moment, but thankfully, Tina was a good pillar to lean on.
"Where to, Miss Scamander?" the brunette asked with a small pleased smile as her friend was doing better and better each meter they walked.
Rose gave her a look, and didn't answer.
Tina groaned. "Of course. Come on, he's just a few doors over."
They took their sweet time reaching said door, which was wide open to let a breeze of fresh air into the room. When they entered, Rose faltered, heart leaping in her throat in worry.
Theseus was lying on his hospital bed, trembling through what looked like a seizure. Newt was leaning over him, holding his arms steady with a set jaw. He was murmuring some comforting words, thought Rose didn't hear what they were, and it obviously didn't help.
Rose pushed off Tina and almost jumped the few feet that separated her from the eldest Scamander. She hoisted herself on the bed near his long legs, and placed a hand on his head to stop him moving.
"How long as he been having this fit?" she asked Newt while still staring at Theseus.
"Twenty-two seconds," he almost hissed through the effort.
Tina sighed. "They're getting longer."
Rose was worried tenfold. If too long or too intense, seizures could provoke important damage to the brain, damage that no magic on Earth could ever fix.
"Theseus," she tried, holding his shoulders now, putting her force into it and combining it with Newt's own efforts. "Theseus, calm down. Please."
Steadily, the tremors weakened, and after another agonizing eleven seconds, he had settled. Newt, panting under the effort, sat back down onto the room's chair, green eyes filled with worry. Rose had never seen him so emotional – bar the time he'd come to her bedside four days prior.
Theseus started drawing in longer and deeper breaths, a hand jolting from beside him to his chest, as if he was looking for something. Impulsively, Rose took it, and he linked their fingers without apparently meaning to.
She briefly wondered if he unconsciously thought she was Leta, but brushed the feeling aside.
Tina, behind her, drew Newt to his feet. "Come on. Let's leave Rose with him for a moment. She'll warn us if there's any trouble. You need to rest too."
Rose turned her head, nodding gratefully at her friend. "Newt can use my bed."
Tina smirked. "That's what I meant for him to do."
Rose shook her head with a small smile of her own, and the two left the room, leaving her alone with a still sleeping Theseus.
Half-an-hour later, Rose couldn't feel her fingers, and was aching from sitting in an awkward position. She couldn't move, however, because Theseus' hold on her hand was too tight.
When he started to stir, she was relieved.
It looked painful for him to open his eyes, which she had experienced herself when she'd woken up the first few times. When he noticed who was there, though, his breath caught, as if he was trying to awaken quicker. "Rose!" It was almost a whisper, but the relief was unmistakeable.
"I'm here. I'm alright." She waited until he had opened his eyes fully – they were still blurry with sleep, but she hadn't expected otherwise – before asking "How are you feeling?"
"Like an Erumpent used me as a personal mat." He sighed, clocking the strong hold he had on her hand, and releasing it a bit. "Sorry. Have I had another one?"
Rose knew what he was referencing, and she nodded gravely. "Apparently, it was longer than the others."
"They're getting worse," he said in a deep sigh. "They don't know what curse he used. They think the damage might be permanent."
Rose pursed her lips. "You don't seem that damaged to me. Besides the seizures."
He had a dark chuckle. "You've caught me at a good time. The first few days, I couldn't even recognize Newt. I attacked him the first time he tried to help. There are moments when I can't tell if I'm having a nightmare or not… And it hurts…..even when it doesn't."
"I feel the same," she sighed. "It's one of the side-effects of powerful Cruciatus Curses."
At that he tried to sit up, and as the shirt he'd been clothed with moved with him, Rose saw a large bandage wrapped around his whole chest, it seemed. It made her hate Grindelwald even more. "How are you feeling?"
"Better. It could have been far worse, if you hadn't arrived at that precise moment. Even if I wished you hadn't been hurt because of it."
"I'd have done the same a thousand times over," he said earnestly. Her breath caught again when she saw the intensity with which he was looking at her, and he carried on, lower as if to make sure no one else would hear, "I couldn't have lived with the thought of you dead."
Rose couldn't help it: she smiled, and hoped. And it was foolish to do so. "I couldn't see you dead either…"
"No, Rose," he said again, the intensity in his eyes not dimming, "I mean that I couldn't bear to lose another person I-"
He never finished that sentence, and for the first time in forever, Rose cursed Fate and its ill timings as a nurse entered the room with a collection of Potions vials.
Theseus didn't stop looking at her, and she felt herself blush, but couldn't really ask him to finish that thought when there was someone else in the room. And when there was no way in Hell that he was going to profess his love for her. She was foolish, and she had to stop getting her hopes up.
They were discharged three days later. Theseus was to be handed over to Saint Mungo's in London, and during transfer, a Mexican Healer would supervise him, give him potions, and survey his probable seizures.
Since Rose had started visiting him, he'd stopped having them as frequently. His episodes of lunacy were still present, at least once a day, and violent, too, but were more easily contained, and less worrying.
Joao announced that they were to go back to England via San Francisco in the U.S., because President Picquery wished to see them before they left. He'd leave them at the Portkey to head back to Rio himself. Rose was sad to see him go, but they'd promised to write each other, so it wasn't that bad, in the end.
Theseus was carried to the Mexican Ministry on a floating stretcher, wearing the same hospital clothes he had for the previous week. He was displeased about not appearing his best in front of MACUSA's President, but Tina brushed it off by telling him that Picquery would be glad to meet him in any circumstances.
When time came to say goodbye to Joao, Rose felt her eyes prickle with tears.
"Don't cry, Miss Rose," he said with the same wide smile he'd always graced her with, "remember that we have to attend the Quidditch World Cup together one day!"
She chuckled, drawing him into a hug. "I'll remember that. Be safe."
"You too," he said gravely, waving at her as they all placed a finger on the two Portkeys that had been commissioned for them.
A swirl of colour took them all away, and they crossed the country north to the colourful city of San Francisco.
For a split second, Rose wished they could have sight-seen, even though the Golden Bridge hadn't been built yet, but she chastised herself for being so shallow when their visit was not of the holiday kind.
When they landed, it was in a large circular room decorated eerily like MACUSA's Headquarters back in New-York. At the door stood two people that every member of the group – save Theseus and Nagini – recognized, even though they had technically never met the second one.
President Picquery wore her hair blonde in graceful curls that framed her aristocratic features. She gave them a rare smile when they landed, and approached, followed by her colleague.
Rose was uneasy. She almost felt like blushing, but also like drawing her wand, just in case.
Percival Graves, at least, who she assumed was the real Percival Graves, was looking far more alive than she'd left him more than a year prior. He seemed to have really favoured the outfits that Grindelwald had stolen from him, but there were less rigid variations in his tie and collar, for instance.
"Messrs Scamander, Miss Scamander, Miss Goldstein, Credence, Nagini, welcome to San Francisco. I'm sorry to have forced you to make a detour. Especially you, Mister Scamander," she directed towards Theseus, lying on his stretcher and still angry about it. "I promise I won't be long." She turned towards her companion, gesturing him closer. "I don't think you've met Mister Percival Graves, Director of the Auror Department here at MACUSA?"
She said it as if it was any other occurrence of her introducing her colleague; almost as if they hadn't already met someone with his face before.
Tina shook her head. "I have. Mister Graves," she said, outstretching a hand that he shook, "I'm glad to see you back in business. We were all worried."
The man smiled, something Rose hadn't see on that face before, and it was warm. It made him even more handsome than he usually was. "Nice seeing you too Tina. I never got the opportunity to thank you, and Miss Scamander, for saving me." He walked to Rose, who forced herself not to flinch or take a step back. To his credit, he seemed to have anticipated it, and didn't offer her his hand to shake. "Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I'd be dead without your intervention."
She managed to croak "You're welcome, Sir, but I only did my job."
"Yes, Seraphina mentioned that. Congratulations! First Female Healer in London! You must be proud!" he added towards Newt and Theseus.
The magizoologist nodded, moving closer, studying the other man as if trying to see through another mask. "We are."
"Madam President," Theseus intervened, apparently less than happy about sharing mundanities, "why have you asked to see us?"
Picquery turned to him, an impressed look on her face. "Do you always go straight to the point, Mister Scamander?" Her amused smirk faded a second later, though. "We've received intelligence that Grindelwald has retreated to Moscow. We wanted to see you so that you could inform the British Ministry when you've gone home."
"Why not send word directly?" Tina asked, brow furrowed.
"Because your experiences in New-York, Paris and now Brazil have shown that Grindelwald may have followers everywhere, anywhere. We cannot trust every official in your Ministry – or ours, for that matter – not to tell him we're onto him."
Her reasoning was sound. Tina nodded, as if agreeing to deliver the message herself. She was more likely to go to the Ministry than Theseus, at any rate.
"It was good to see you all, alive. Even you, young man," she directed at Credence, who frowned. "I am sorry about what happened in New-York. The threat you posed then was too great to risk keeping you alive, but I am truly glad you survived." It was weird, it wasn't really an apology, but that's the last thing she said before exiting the room.
Graves waited, summoning two new Portkeys for them to take back to London, this time. He turned to Rose once more, the same weirdly warm smile on his lips as he said "Thank you again, Miss Scamander. I owe you."
She blushed for real, this time, but didn't answer.
She was ready to go home.
And go home she did.