I hope you went and read
Chapter 1 of "4 Times little Credence woke up Percival in the middle of the night + Once Percival woke up Credence"
like I told you last chapter because otherwise you're going to be slightly confused.
And if you didn't, tell me if you understood the chapter anyway. It helps me understand how good I am at conveying stuff I haven't already spelled out :P

If Percival Graves had expected anything out of the ordinary for the third Tuesday of January, it was not to be awoken by a child jumping onto his stomach.

"Percival! Mr. Percival!"

The wizard didn't have air to ask what was happening. All he managed was a groan as he jerked into a sitting position. He looked at the time, it was an hour before his alarm was supposed to set off.

"There's a bird!"

"A bird?" He ran a hand over his face.

"Where?" And he hoped to God that the reply wasn't outside the window.

"In your office", the boy told him.

"There's a bird loose in the office?", the wizard said.

"No. It's in a cage."

This sounded more peculiar than a bird managing to get inside. It sometimes happened, with small birds building nests in uncovered chimneys, young owls being creative in how they delivered the mail, or accidents with floo powder; which was more common than you'd think.

A caged bird entailed that it had been delivered.

He got out of bed and stuck his head out the door, and sure enough, he could hear the clapper of a beak.

"It's in your office", Credence repeated from below him, having mimicked the wizard.

"Yeah, I heard you", he assured the boy.

It was indeed a caged bird in his office. It stood on top of the coffee table in a rather tall cylindrical cage. It took Percival a moment to see the thing because it was hanging upside down in the bars. It opened its beak and let out a startling caw.

"It's a bird", Credence remarked.

"I'm pretty sure it's a raven", Percival mused.

It wasn't every day you saw a caged raven, but there was a small community in the wizarding world that treasured them far higher than the traditional owls. That they were intelligent and highly adaptive to nomaj occupied areas. No one batted an eye if they saw a raven flying over a city during the daytime. And wild ravens, much like magpies, were known to search through trash, so seeing one with a piece of paper in its beak or claw did not arouse suspicion.

"Where did you come from, little guy?" He opened the hasp of the door and held out his arm. He clicked his tongue, hoping the animal understood the gesture.

"Or girl", Credence perked up.

Percival clicked his tongue again as the raven climbed down along the bars. Then, with an acrobatic ability reminiscent of a cat it hopped out to perch on the man's arm. Credence gasped gently and the bird cawed at him.

"What should we name it?"

"I'm afraid we won't keep it, my boy...", Percival said and looked over the animal. He didn't know much about ravens, but with his limited knowledge on owls he could at least tell that the bird on his arm didn't showcase any signs of stress or bad keeping. Its eyes were lively and seemed to scrutinize him just as he was assessing it.

"Why not?", Credence wondered.

"Because we haven't asked for a bird, have we?", Percival mused.

Then he gave Credence a playful look.

"Unless you ordered one behind my back?"

"I haven't…!"

As the wizard took another look at the cage, he noticed a tag. He took it into his hand and read: Jet-black plumage, breeder of Islandic and Northern ravens since 1466.

His smile quickly disappeared as he turned it over.

It was an animated text, spelling out the receiver and sender. It wasn't in English, but Percival did not need exceptional language skills to understand what it said.

À Credence, de la famille Lestrange.

And even if the text hadn't been enough the cursive letters warped away into a family crest after a few seconds. A raven standing on top of a golden eleven-like shape. Percival recognized it from the history lessons he had taken as a boy. One of The Sacred Twenty-Eight, a European blood-status similar to The Original Twelve; expect it brought on a much more powerful sense of hubris in certain circles.

The Lestrange family.

"What does it say?"

He looked down to see Credence patiently waiting for him to reveal the origin of the bird.

Percival raised his arm to the top of the cage.
"Step down", he told it, which the bird did; so it had been trained.

He wouldn't deny it. He was stalling for time to decide what to do.

The two of them hadn't talked about the circulating rumors. Not since that night when the boy had been unable to sleep and come into his bedroom to have his worries soothed. That even if Credence was a lost French baby of a pure-blood family Percival would never give him up.

And to be completely honest, he did not want to talk about the rumors. He wished it hadn't graced its ugly face on his doorstep. He'd lock them into a box and throw it into the ocean if he could. Blast it with every spell he knew. He wanted to obliterate the mere notion that someone would dare to take Credence away from the place he felt safe. Where he was loved. And where he would have been loved even if he wasn't an all-powerful obscurial. Because why else would the Lestranges be interested?

But he couldn't do that. Because it wasn't magically possible to obliviate the entire world. And the Lestranges were tired of waiting around.

Still, it wasn't about him. It was about the boy. And even if he constantly forgot the boy had been eighteen years old. Credence had a right to find out if he wanted to.

"My boy?", he said, careful not to sound alarming.
"Remember that French family? The ones who are missing a baby?"

It looked like he had thrown a bucket of water over the boy. His doe eyes were wide and startled as he looked up at the wizard.

"…yeah", Credence said, quietly.

"It seems like they've sent you a bird."

Credence looked at the bird again. All the excitement about the beautiful animal had disappeared. The boy did not concentrate on it for long, however, because he went to Percival and clung to the soft fabric of the bathrobe.

"Graves, there is no reason to be yelling."

"It is harassment!"

"You've been receiving fruit baskets since you came back, Graves, and you haven't complained about the free stuff before…", the President drawled.

He spun around from where he had been pacing.

"This is not the same thing and you know it", he told her.
"He is a child! And he is terrified the Lestranges are going to swoop in and take him away!"

The President didn't roll her eyes, but she might as well.

"Has the boy actually said that, or are you just projecting your own feelings onto him?"

To Percival's light offense Picquery did not look at him for an assessment. Instead she turned to Tina, who was also attending the impromptu morning meeting in Graves' office. Credence was down at the Wand department with Queenie. It had taken some light persuasion for the boy to let go of Graves' coat.

"Queenie told me Credence has been thinking about it. That it made him uncomfortable…", she said.

"But only right when he found out. It was our fault, really, we didn't think about what mags we left out in the apartment. But Graves talked to him about it, and he seemed much calmer after that", she said and sent a tentative smile at the Director.

"The bird has him spooked though. Even I could see that", she added.

"A raven", Picquery agreed.
"It's quite an on-the-nose welcoming gift, isn't it? Any plans on what you're going to do with it?" She asked Graves this time.

Percival felt his temper flare again at her nonchalant attitude.
"I'm going to send it back to the breeder. I don't want it in the house longer than necessary. And I don't want them contacting him again…" Without thinking about he resumed his pacing again.

"They've had their eighteen years. If they even considered what's best for him they'd realize that the Graves have everything they have to offer and then some, except he won't have to marry his own cousin to preserve the bloodline…! And on top of that they dare to make assumptions despite never having meet him or had a relation check performed!", he said, disgust in his voice.

The president merely looked at him, thoroughly unfaced.

"Are you done with your rant?"

He stopped in his tracks and took a for seconds to harbor the anger in his chest, but finally, and begrudgingly, he sighed.

"Yes. For now..."

"Have you tried reaching out to them at all? Isn't there a supposed sister? Lena?"

"Leta", Tina filled in.

Percival turned away. Ran a hand through his hair. He knew it would come to this, and he was already embarrassed.

"Or have you reached out to her?", Picquery said, tilting her head. Nothing went unnoticed by her, especially the behavior of her Director. She had known him for too long to know when he did not want to admit something.
"Graves."

He shook his head.

"No, it's just that she's the fiancée of the Head Auror at the British Ministry of Magic."

Picquery blinked.

"The same Head Auror you communicated with on security measures for all of last year?", Picquery demanded, her interest finally piqued. Not in the way Percival would have liked though. He could tell she wasn't amused by the coincidence. Not at all.

"So, you're saying that you've had every opportunity to prevent this?"

"So has she!", he suddenly erupted.
"And there shouldn't have been anything to prevent to begin with."

"Mr. Graves", Tina said calmly from her spot across the room, distracting the two from each other. He met her brown eyes across the room.

"We understand that you are very worried about Credence, - I am worried about Credence. Queenie too - but no one is suggesting that you should give him up to the Lestranges. He belongs here. With you. They can't do anything without your consent anyway. Isn't that right Madam President?"

"Percival signed the papers", Picquery confirmed.
"There is nothing the Europeans can do to take the boy away from you. He's an underage American citizen and you're his guardian."

Then her blond eyebrows quirked into her no-nonsense listen-here look as she admonished the wizard.

"But I don't want you bringing your personal problems into the office and making a scene first thing in the morning, Graves. Unless this becomes an actual legal problem, you will do your best to sort it out at home. I suggest you start by contacting the Lestrange girl. If she's engaged to the Scamander boy she must be sane enough to see reason. I can't imagine she's enjoying the rumors either."

He hadn't actually considered Leta's point of view. And when the President put it like that he could see the appeal. Yet again, he wouldn't do anything without Credence's opinion on the matter.

"Yes, ma'am", he said.
"I'll talk to Credence on how he wants to go about it."

The witches nodded. Tina looking far more encouraging with his decision. Picquery mostly looked like she questioned why he was including a child in the decision-making.

"Forgive me for yelling", he added.

The president scoffed gently, but without humor.

"It's not as if this is the first time, Graves. At least you waited until we are behind closed doors. I'll see you in the pentagram."

She then rose from where she had been sitting and left the room, leaving Tina and Percival on their own. He was glaring at himself in the reflection of his cabinets when he felt a grace on his arm.

"How are you feeling?", Tina asked.

He took a moment to try and put words to his emotions but came up short. He crossed his arms.

"I don't know. I think I'm angry…", he told her.

"And why are you angry?"

The answer came to him immediately and he was almost surprised at how obvious the words felt in his mouth.

"They're scaring my boy."

Despite how possessive he sounded it seemed to amuse the witch.

"You're a real mama-bear", she mused.

He couldn't help but smile at the description. Yet it was bittersweet.

"It's so strange… I've known him for barely two months, he's not even mine , yet I'm taking all of this more personally than I expected… Is this normal?" He looked at her for some sort of input.

"He grows on you like that…", she assured him and rubbed his bicep with her knuckles comfortingly.
"Newt had a hard time leaving as well, and he'd only known him for a few days when he had to go back to England. He is like that with every abused being he comes across, though…"

As soon as she said that she straightened as if reminded by something.

"The British Head Auror, what was his name?"

Percival blinked at the sudden change of topic but immediately complied.

"Er, Scamander. Theseus Scamander." And at the same time he realized the same thing that Tina was probably thinking.

"By Merlin's beard! They're related aren't they?"

"I'm pretty sure they're brothers actually", the auror agreed.
"I only knew Theseus worked at the Ministry of Magic. Never the position."

"How did we not think of that before?"

It did sound more and more promising though. Leta Lestrange was not only fiancée to a respectable co-worker, but future sister-in-law to Tina's good friend and the wizard who helped uncover Grindelwald. And if the two wizards were anything to go by Leta did sound promisingly sane in his ears.

"What would you say about coming over this evening? If you don't mind the short notice, that is. Credence has barely seen you since the Rose Rash passed."

She smiled again.

"You want some help explaining Leta to him?"

"That, too", he admitted.