House: Hufflepuff

Class: Herbology

Category: Drabble

Prompt: [Character] Newt Scamander

WC: 641

TW: None

Note: AU in which the second film never happens, continues from the end of the first film if Newt stays in America and Percival is rescued from Grindlewald's imprisonment.

Newt woke the moment the door was carefully nudged open, allowing a beam of bright sunlight to spill into the room. For a brief few seconds, he could see the huddled shape of one of the Occamies, their scales shining a brilliant blue, before a shadow slipped through the door and they were all plunged into darkness again.

Letting his eyes slip closed again, Newt listened to the careful, tentative footsteps as the unseen figure crept across the room, pausing when Percival — curled behind Newt with a leg previously thrown over his hip — shifted with a sigh, just as awake as Newt was.

"Good morning, Credence," Newt murmured, unwilling to break the gentle hush that had fallen over the room. "Can you get over the Occamy okay?"

"Yes," Credence whispered.

The bed dipped a moment later and Percival used the moment to kiss the nape of Newt's neck, tugging the nest of blankets the taller man held clutched to his chest free to allow Credence to lie down. His feet — freezing as always and bare of the socks Newt pressed into his hands every night — settled carefully against Newt's.

"Good morning." Credence's eyes were so wide in the gloom, still holding a distant trace of terror, before Newt had to look away and his heart broke all over again for the young man.

The same instinct that sent him halfway around the world to release a Thunderbird had resurfaced once more when they found Credence, newly reformed and grieving in the remains of his old home. Newt may have technically been on house arrest and Percival may have been on medical leave, but that had never stopped either of them before.

"Good morning, Credence," Percival answered, his words a deep rumble against Newt's back, and he reached out with his free hand to smooth a lock of Credence's hair back into place.

Newt felt Credence tense, every muscle in his body locking in place for a brief moment before he relaxed once more. Newt's grin felt like it would split his face in two, muscles aching with the use.

"Did you see the Niffler on your way in, Credence?" Newt asked, brow furrowing as he tried to remember. The memory was already half-faded as if it had been a dream, but he was sure he could remember the Niffler snuffling across the floor before it slipped free of the room earlier.

"Yes."

Percival sighed behind Newt, the noise world-weary and already exhausted. "I hope it's still in the house, dearest. I don't hold as much political sway as I used to."

"Of course you do," Newt said, rolling his eyes just to make Credence smile. "Half of the Auror Office would trip over themselves to do the smallest thing you implied you wanted."

"Such faith you hold in me."

Credence's voice was soft, barely pitched louder than a whisper. "It's eating the silverware."

"My mother's silverware?" Percival's hearing was as sharp as ever following his imprisonment at Grindlewald's hands, even as his leg was slow to heal. Some of the Junior Aurors even wondered — only when they were four to five rooms away from the man — if it was even better now.

Credence nodded, and Newt gently tapped his hand against Percival's, which was trapped between the curve of his hip and the mattress, to signal the action to the other man. He knew that his view of Credence was blocked by Newt's mass of curls.

"Again? I don't think you feed it enough, dearest," Percival chuckled, and Newt breathed out a gentle sigh of relief as Credence laughed as well, the noise hesitant but no less wonderful.

They would all have to rise eventually, dragged from bed by the call of responsibilities. But for now, Newt could lie with his family around him, happy and content.