The Hellenistic realm is the home of Circe, Griffins, and Chimeras. Percival may be a direct descendant of the 12 Original Aurors, but their magical traditions came from Europe. I have linked his maternal line to Southern Europe. Add to that the otherworldly beauty of the Blue Grotto. Potential for things to happen.

The Truth Will Out

The Blue Grotto of Capri was legendary in both No-Maj and magical circles for its beauty and lore. Wizardkind knew it as a sanctuary for their local kindred from persecution during the Middle Ages. The locals were said to have established their village at the bottom of the Grotto and hidden passages within the cave leading other parts of the island. However, these were long lost to time.

The weather held off enough for them to take for Shafiq to take them out in a rowboat out to the Blue Grotto. The sight of the deep blue water took their breaths away. They were surprised to find another party of sightseers there, a gaggle of young American witches probably in their first season. They were chaperoned by a dour-looking matron and a very familiar witch.

"Seraphina?"

"Good morning, Percy. I am accompanying my niece and her friends on a tour of Europe. Perhaps Tina and you might join us for a picnic lunch later at the Olive Inn."

Seraphina greeted his mother more coolly. The older witch was a bit perturbed her son's old flame had turned up on the island as well. The small boats bobbed lazily in the calm water as everyone admired the grotto's otherworldly beauty. No one noticed the wave until it was too late.

Shafiq shouted a warning to hold on. Leaning over to peer into the depths, Percival lost his grip. He went over the side of the rowboat with a splash, too far off for his three companions to get hold of him. He cracked his skull on something hard. He was sinking, weighed down by the heavy overcoat he had worn against the nippy air that morning. His legs refused to work. He was floundering.

Such a beautiful blue… he thought as he sank beneath the surface… Blackness closed in.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

Sweet salty air flooded back into his lungs. He was floating in the air, dripping seawater. Three wands glowing in the dim grotto, the combined spell enough to keep him and his waterlogged garments aloft. Three witches – his mother, Tina, and Seraphina. They kept him hovering long enough for Shafiq to manoeuvre his boat under him before the witches released the spell. Tina cast a drying spell on him and his clothes. It was a disastrous end to their so far enjoyable outing.

The gloom settled in Percival with the arrival of storm clouds as they sought shelter in the villa. Once more he was painfully aware of his inability to use any magic. The inn was too far off for the party of young witches to reach before the storm broke and Emilia Graves was not averse to opening her villa to the party after Seraphina's part in rescuing her son. The six young witches were from an elite Southern finishing school for society witches and were a breath of fresh air in the otherwise quiet villa. They were accompanied by their headmistress and Seraphina, who was standing in for a teacher who had fallen ill. Emilia Graves and the headmistress Grace Leblanc soon found they shared mutual acquaintances in the elite wizarding circles back home and were soon exchanging gossip over coffee.

The young witches swooned over the dark and handsome Shafiq and were intrigued by the battle-scarred former Auror Percival. The handsome Shafiq flirted with the girls while Percival chose to ignore their attentions in favour of perusing a pocket Italian phrasebook. When they learned Tina was an Auror, she was besieged by questions on being an Auror and the training needed. One young lady was especially concerned for her beau who had just started his training. Tina reassured the young witch that trainees were allowed to write and receive mail from home that would be left in the training centre's owlery for them to collect at their convenience. The owlery also arranged for mail collected to be posted to the recruits' families and friends.

"Aunt Sera's beau left her when he was away training. Mama said she wrote loads of letters, but he never replied," the girl unwittingly blurted out.

There was a soft thud as the phrasebook fell out of Percival's hand. There was an awkward silence as Percival fumbled for the book while Seraphina stared at her coffee dregs.

"I never received any letters…" Percival muttered quietly. "I wrote… Two years…"

"I wrote until I read about your engagement to Margery Fischer. I thought it was over between us when I accepted Orwell's suit."

"Margery Fischer? Whatever gave you that idea, Sera?"

"There was an article in the Southern Witch and a photo of the both of you at the Gala…" Seraphina looked off into the distance. Sensing the pair's need for privacy, Shafiq deftly persuaded the young witches to come view some sculptures in his workshop with their headmistress. Percival swallowed. It sounded so familiar. Tina Goldstein excused herself to the bathroom.

"I was tasked with escorting Miss Fischer to the Gala during my home visit…" Percival started. The homely Margie ended up marrying one of the MacDuff boys and was for all accounts, deliriously happy popping out offspring for the large MacDuff clan and tending to her brood.

"Percy, your father was a stakeholder of that newspaper before it folded," his mother cut in. "As for those letters, I believe he had one or more of your instructors in his debt. Sorry, son, it went as it did, if only someone had waited…"

"Mother!" Graves had enough. He rose from his chair and stormed off down the villa's many galleries, pushing past Tina as he did so. He was furious. All those wasted years. His father's meddling, Sera not waiting for his return, and his mother's complicit silence. He lashed out at a terracotta vase, sending it clattering over the side of the rain-soaked terrace, and quickly regretted it. The villa's elves had been given the day off to enjoy a local festival in town. Goodness knew if Eddie had been persuaded to take a day off as well. The vase will likely lie shattered where it had landed until someone noticed its absence. Rain plastered his hair to his scalp and face, soaking through his clothes. Lightning flashed and thunder roared as the storm raged on without any sign of abating. Exhausted, he sank to his knees.

Emilia Graves frowned. There was something off about her villa underneath the storm's chaotic energies. Madame LeBlanc's girls were the pearls of Southern society – the twin daughters of a wizard inventor, the niece of a former MACUSA president, the granddaughter of a former MACUSA President and a descendant of the original Auror Lopez. Then there was that quiet one – Eva Prince, named for her English mother as her parents never married to each other, so the gossip went. The child's father was rumoured to be President Able Fisher. She was sent to the States as a toddler after her mother passed. Whispers had it that the respectable Mister Fisher denied paternity and left the child in an orphanage until a teacher at Ilvermorny, and some claim archnemesis of Mister Fisher, intervened and made the child her ward. This allowed little Eva to walk in the very same circles as the children of her father's peers. The uncanny resemblance between the pair did not go unnoticed. The scandal could destroy the career of the current President if it were to spread beyond the upper-class sitting rooms. Some claimed Fisher might even run for Supreme Mugwump…

Madame LeBlanc had become concerned about Eva recently as the witch seemed to be carrying on a secret correspondence with someone. Not that she minded the quiet girl having a new friend especially given her Ilvermorny guardian's recent passing, but something about those letters seemed off. She had glimpsed some of the letters, by accident of course, and they were enough to worry her. Eva's letters had been signed off with Grindelwald's symbol. She had confronted the girl, but Miss Prince shrugged it off as a joke and took offence at her letter being peeked at. She could have taken the girls to the Orient for their graduation trip instead of the traditional European jaunt, but that would be too foreign for them. Grindelwald's organization had been quiet after that infamous Paris rally.

Emilia Graves entered the cellar, almost regretting giving the elves the day off. She had her guests to feed. The generous lunch spread the elves had left behind for them was almost gone. Amphorae of olive oil, garam, and wine were stacked along the walls. Pots of cheese cured on the shelves under hanging bushels of dried herbs. Her son had once hidden in the cellar as a child once after being teased by his European cousins for being small compared to them. Perhaps she was expecting to find him there, but no such luck. She climbed out of the cellar to see a man silhouetted against the kitchen window.

"Percy?" the shadow shifted. Two arms. Not Percy. "Who's there?"

Emilia ducked behind the olive-oil press as a hex flew above her head, obliterating the mosaic panel behind her. Not Aslan either. That wizard would cut off both his hands first before destroying any of the villa's artwork. She gathered up her skirts and ran for cover, cursing her foolhardiness in leaving her wand on the coffee table. The Stunning spell hit her hard and everything went black.

They had lost sight of Graves in the dim galleries and loggias of the sprawling villa. Emilia Graves declined to chase after her son, deciding he needed some time alone to process what he had just learnt. Tina and Seraphina were not that sure. They split up to cover more ground.

Seraphina turned a corner to find the sculptor's workshop. Aslan Shafiq was enthusiastically demonstrating the use of a potter's wheel with Grace LeBlanc's help. Clay was being flung everywhere to amused laughter from the girls, who were being splattered with clay as well. The studio would need a thorough scroungifying after this.

The wards went off. Aslan glanced up from his work trying to guide Madame LeBlanc's large hands in shaping a pot. The wards placed on the villa were nowhere as strong as they once were with Shafiq having free run of the villa in Signora Graves' absence. He would often bring his arty friends over for a weekend of creative exploration. Was it a magical beast? Or an intruder with ill-will towards the villa's residents?

"Shafiq, Gracie, stay with the girls. I will look for the rest," Seraphina ordered. She had her wand with her. Some of the witches fumbled for their wands, terrified. Madame LeBlanc worked to calm the young ladies. Shafiq yanked aside a tapestry to reveal a hidden room. The flighty artist was gone. Aslan Shafiq was a warrior at heart. She could tell from the confident way he held his wand. He herded the girls and their headmistress into the small room and cast a quick glamour, so that the tapestry appeared to cover an earthen wall.

"You stay too, Signora. I know the grounds better…" that was as far as the wizard got before a Petrifying spell hit him in the back. It came from behind the tapestry…

"Selena!" Picquery feared the worst as she caught the petrified wizard before he hit the tiles face-first. There came screams which were too quickly silenced. She threw back the tapestry and quickly raised a protego to deflect a Stupefying spell. The headmistress and five of the students were petrified, including her niece. The last student…

"Revelio!" Seraphina shouted and cast her charm. Well, well, isn't this a surprise…

"Uncle Percy…" Tina approached Graves cautiously. She found him huddled in a corner of the terrace, utterly miserable. She transfigured an umbrella from her hat to shield them from the rain.

"Leave me be…"

"Let's get you back inside, warm and dry."

"All those wasted years… After she left Orwell, I should have told…" He felt the shock of the alarm wards going off. "Tina, we need to get back inside!"

His long years of training and experience as a Auror were kicking in after lying dormant for so long after his duel against Grindelwald. Innocents were in danger. His mother, best friend, their guests… He did not know if it was a wizard or a beast that menaced them, but he was going to protect them as far as and for as long as he could.

Tina nodded grimly and unsheathed her wand.

Author's Notes:

A cliff-hanger for now.

It is almost like a mirror of the misunderstanding between Tina and Newt, but in Sera and Percy's case, it was an intentional setup to separate the couple for good. The President's illegitimate child is on European tour with her finishing school classmates and she might be consorting with the wrong crowd.