Good day my fine readers, and thank you for the lovely reviews. Yes I do genuinely think I can't write battle scenes, but your support has been amazing throughout this story. I thank you for your reassurances that I am doing an alright job.

Disclaimer: I'm sure we all know that I own nothing... except Adriana, she my girl.

Chapter 9:

Percival found himself falling into a routine at Adriana's. Wake up. Do half the garden. Do some cleaning, washing, scrubbing. Lunch. Do the other half of the garden. Wash off. Read. Dinner. Bed. The predictability helped keep him calm and very nearly happy. Adriana was sweet to him. He was living. And yet he still felt a crushing weight on his chest where... well it was easier to be awake. When he was awake, he could pretend that everything was fine. He could block out what he didn't want. He could plaster a fake smile on his face and act like the world was right. Except it really wasn't. The longer Grindelwald was in prison, the worse Percival felt. It was a slow sinking feeling in his stomach, like a plug hole that hadn't been closed fully. Adriana had reached a silent agreement with him. Don't talk about the feelings. Although, Adriana's way of dealing with his nightmares was odd. She'd talk about something random and unrelated to the nightmares. The glass of water. The covers. The windows. The lights. Anything but the nightmares. Surprisingly, it helped. Maybe because it caught him off guard to be asked if he wanted the light closer after waking up from another horrific memory. Or maybe it was just that Adriana acted like it was so normal. Whatever the reason, he was grateful. He still wasn't good with touch though. He managed it during the day time. He could grit his teeth and pretend that touch didn't feel like branding. That it didn't burn and make him want to pull so far away and hide in a corner. At night, he couldn't hide it. He was ashamed of himself. He was a Graves. He wasn't supposed to be this weak. The only person who ever saw him in that state was Adriana, which Percival was beginning to mind less and less. Her hand in his hair and that silly little tune helped. He'd asked. It was her school song and she'd sung it to him in the day. He thought it was hilarious. He didn't laugh though. Laughing just seemed difficult. The corners of his lips would curl up but not much. He didn't mind too much. He'd never smiled much anyway. Percival heard a soft knock at the door. He hesitated. No one had come by Adriana's since he'd temporarily moved in. No one had a spare key, he'd given the one he borrowed right back. He gripped his wand almost convulsively. He opened the door slightly.

"Mr Graves." Dumbledore said cheerfully. Percival stared blankly at the school professor. The man was dressed in a very flamboyant forget me not blue suit. Percival half wanted to invite him in just to get him off the street. The other half wanted to ask what Dumbledore thought passed for No-Maj these days. "I'm afraid I may attract quite a bit of attention out here. May I come in?" Percival had the strange urge to scream 'stranger danger' which was different. He let Dumbledore pass him into the house. Percival let the door snap shut and followed Dumbledore into the living room.

"Would you... like something to drink?" Percival asked uncertainly. He was not good with visitors.

"Ah yes." Dumbledore said, sitting in the armchair by the fireplace. "Tea would be lovely. Two sugars and a spot of milk please." Percival nodded and went to the kitchen. A wave of his hand and a moment later he walked out with two cups of tea. He handed one to Dumbledore and settled himself in the opposite armchair. His tea was black, which at this point was a pretty good inner reflection.

"So, Mr Graves." Dumbledore started genially.

"Percival." He interrupted briskly. He was sure he'd become allergic to Graves.

"Percival." Dumbledore repeated smoothly. "How are you?" Percival nearly choked on his tea. The situation was slightly bizarre if nothing else. When he had woken up this morning, he had not expected to be sitting in the living room, drinking tea with Albus Dumbledore. The man's reputation preceded him. He was an extraordinary wizard. And he was asking how Percival was feeling. Like he cared.

"I'm fine." Percival replied monotonously. It was probably the most practiced response of any Auror. 'I'm fine.' And now it was self-assurance.

"I think you and I have a very different sense of the word fine." Dumbledore said, intertwining his fingers and humming slightly. "You certainly look better than last time I saw you." He smiled at Percival, who wondered if Dumbledore's eyes were naturally that blue. They seemed to be staring through him. "No doubt the warmth of Miss Arkin." This time Percival did choke on his tea.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He spluttered.

"That she is an odd witch." Dumbledore said. "Who happens to be a positive influence on most people she meets."

"She's definitely odd." Percival muttered. He didn't know anyone who would let a person they had broken out of prison stay in their home for an extended period of time. Or garden. Or clean the house. He thought that Adriana was a bit laid back about house rules. As long as the building still stood when she got back, she was fine with anything. Percival was waiting for her to snap.

"Mmm." Dumbledore hummed. "But Miss Arkin isn't why I'm here."

"Then why are you here?" Percival asked, certain he wasn't going to like the answer.

"I'm here to see how you are." Dumbledore said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Percival rubbed a hand across his jaw nervously.

"And you care because?" He asked a little roughly. Dumbledore looked a little surprised.

"I recall we met once before this ordeal." Dumbledore said. Percival nodded mutely, he had no clue where this was going. "And I remember finding myself very impressed. You are, of course a young and accomplished Auror. When we met, you were head of two departments." He smiled warmly at Percival, who felt a slight flush creeping onto his face. "I admit that I began to follow your career very closely. And I fear that this is what may have influenced Grindelwald's decision to seek you out." Percival didn't understand how Dumbledore's interest in his career led to a mad man chasing Percival down.

"So, you're checking up on me out of guilt?" He asked. Dumbledore shook his head.

"I am genuinely concerned for your well-being. After all, I did find you good company at that dull meeting." Dumbledore said with a slightly mischievous smile. Percival remembered the meeting well. Picquery had been appointed and she wanted to discuss security and Grindelwald. Percival had accompanied her, doing his sworn duty to protect her. He found himself uninterested in the meeting and had sat next to Dumbledore. The man had only been there at the insistence of the British Ministry. And it didn't look like he wanted to be there. They'd talked but Percival didn't think he'd left that much of an impression. Then again, he was proficient at wandless magic. Europe was very reliant on the use of wands while the Americas were a little more open to both wands and hands. It probably seemed different.

"Well I'm touched." Percival said. Which wasn't entirely true. "But I don't see how your interest in me could have influenced... his decisions." If Dumbledore noticed the fact that he couldn't utter Grindelwald's name, he didn't say anything.

"It has been highly suggested that Grindelwald has yet to visit Britain because I am here." Dumbledore said lightly. Percival knew the rumours. Grindelwald was afraid of Dumbledore's skill. And from what Percival knew of Dumbledore's skills, it was with good reason. "I don't think this is the case." And Percival knew that Dumbledore knew the real reason Grindelwald didn't dare touch Britain. "But it would stand to reason that someone like Grindelwald would very much like to eliminate anyone that I keep an eye on." Percival nodded. If he was after a dark wizard he'd do the same. Take out the followers, friends. Take out the wizard. He realised that meant Dumbledore probably saw him as a friend. "So, I must ask you a question a dare not ask in front of the Ministry for fear it will confirm their suspicions." Percival stared at Dumbledore. "Did he mention me?" Percival really had to think about it. Grindelwald had asked him a lot of things. Said a lot of things. Whether they made coherent sense was another matter.

"He said something about you." Percival said slowly. It was struggle to remember. If he was honest, he didn't want to. "Something about guilt. And he asked... he asked." Percival frowned. It was on the tip of his tongue. "He asked how well I knew you." He glanced at Dumbledore. The older man didn't look very surprised.

"Thank you, Percival." He said softly. "I'm sure that was difficult for you." Percival gave a non-committal shrug. He smiled reassuringly. "Now, it would be a waste of a visit to go after that." Percival raised an eyebrow. "A game of wizards' chess perhaps?" Dumbledore waved his wand and a chess set flew out of the cabinet and set itself up. How Dumbledore knew that was there Percival didn't know. He engaged the man in a rather enigmatic game of chess. Percival won, although he wasn't sure if Dumbledore was just being nice. The match had taken hours though. It was late and Dumbledore was getting up to leave when Adriana stormed in.

"That bloody tosspot of a Minister!" She cursed loudly. "I swear if he- hello Professor Dumbledore."

"Good evening Adriana." He said warmly. She flushed slightly. Still a school girl. "Well, I shall leave Percival in your capable hands." With a low bow and a wink at Percival, Dumbledore swept out of the room. Percival and Adriana stood awkwardly in the hallway.

"So, would you like to compare days?" Percival asked.