Finally, after coming up with this idea on the 20th of April 2021, I took the time to develop it enough to post.
Still, MACUSA Heads of Department's reactions will be up sometime next week I think.
This is meant for Percival to be absolutely gone on Newt; he is simping hard, reassuring his cinnamon roll. That's it, please don't take my lockdown fluff too seriously and enjoy
Percival checked his home office one last time before retiring. He'd spent part of the afternoon fastidiously rearranging the room so it would look tidy and somewhat imposing, and he considered it only smart to make sure everything was the way he'd left it. The fact that he'd gotten used to the occasional critter making a nest out of his law books didn't mean that was the image of himself that he wished his office to reflect, and his peers and subordinates would already be getting enough of a peek into his private life as it was.
Still, rescuing his books and paperwork from the organized chaos his life had descended into over the past several weeks had given him the chance to set up the perfect backdrop for the following day's meeting. Now he could seal the office for the night feeling set to tackle the first long-distance meeting of his career.
Most of America (no-maj and magical) had been in lockdown for three weeks already, and it had taken that long for the Department Heads at MACUSA to agree that the situation wouldn't be solved quickly enough to defer all planned meetings until it was safe to see each other face to face.
Once everyone was on the same page regarding the necessity for the meeting, setting it up had, for the first time in the history of interdepartmental cooperation, not taken longer than the duration of a single fire call to each person. Such ease in confirming availability was unprecedented but not altogether surprising. No one involved had had to do anything more than check reports and send mail through the fireplace since the lockdown started, after all. No one was attending to conflicting duties while stuck at home.
Only a selected few categories of MACUSA personnel did essential fieldwork—the least impacted by the lockdown—and none of the Department Heads was on that short list.
Therefore, as they planned the meeting, they accounted for the responsibilities of the Chief Auror, her deputy, and the Auror Commissioner, as well as the family commitments of the Head of No-Maj Relations—the more palatable term for No-Maj Misinformation. Everyone else was supposed to be available at any time during the workday, so no one dared object. Although Percival imagined most weren't thrilled with the early hour. Morgana knew he'd gotten used to a later wake-up call since he stopped going to the office.
The gentle chiming of his wand jarred him awake, and Percival immediately reached on his bedside table to quiet it. Then he turned back toward the center of the bed and buried his head in the pillow as if he didn't have a meeting to attend.
It must be some sort of record—he hadn't been awake for a full minute and he was already irritated with his colleagues.
He recognized the irrationality of blaming others for a meeting they'd all agreed to, but the irritation surged within him apace with the disappointment he felt at having his morning intruded upon.
He didn't use to have a hard time getting up for work, but, for the past month or so, leaving his warm bed had felt like a crime. And the reason for that lay next to him, asleep, looking perfectly content and unbothered by the brief sound of the alarm.
Percival was loath to disturb the peacefulness of the moment and even breathed as softly as possible to preserve every detail of the vision in front of him. And Newt was a vision. With his red curls spilling over the white pillowcase, his pink lips—slightly parted, so inviting—and freckles all over his skin, Newt could have been some fey creature, cavorting in magical forests and testing the spirit of any mortal happening upon him. He could have been an artist's obsession—immortalized in a thousand paintings that still couldn't capture the full breadth of his beauty.
Instead he was here, brightening Percival's home and days, and Percival would gladly spend the rest of his life admiring the incredible wizard he somehow convinced into his bed and his life—it truly was his greatest accomplishment.
After spending his youth chasing dark wizards and playing political games, Percival was as high up in MACUSA's hierarchy as he was comfortable being, and finding Newt when he'd been ready to slow down and dedicate his time to more personally fulfilling pursuits had been a blessing far greater than he'd ever contemplated.
Newt's breath hitched, and Percival found himself utterly incapable of keeping his hands to himself. He lifted his fingers to stroke Newt's delicate cheek, soothing him. Soon, Percival's gentle caress turned into brushing Newt's fine hair away from his brow, and when he didn't stir, Percival started petting his curls, gladly dedicating as much of his limited time as he could to such a pleasant task.
It didn't matter if they were lying in bed quietly or eating dinner surrounded by magical creatures begging for scraps, everything in his life was made better by Newt's presence. Even his sheets had never looked better than they did in that precise moment—caressing Newt's skin, barely teasing at the shape of his waist, winding around his long legs, baring a sliver of his thigh.
The urge to touch, to grab and never let go, surged within him. Refraining from doing so took more self-control than he thought he could muster this early in the morning. He ended up turning away quickly and cursing the names of his fellow Heads of Department as he rose from his bed. He shouldn't—it wasn't their fault that he had to leave Newt's warmth before he was ready, but having a target for his frustration helped distract him as he quietly gathered the robes he'd set out the previous night.
He left their bedroom and closed the door behind him with a soft spell, hoping to let Newt sleep as long as he could after he'd been up with the Occamy at least once during the night.
He headed to the kitchen first, setting a pot of coffee to brew as he took care of everything else.
Percival was adjusting his tie in front of the hallway mirror when his magic warned him that his coffee was ready, and, taken by sentiment as he often was lately, he ignored his many elegant cups in favor of Newt's black and yellow mug, even if it was chipped and he had to tip the niffler out of it before it could be used.
It wasn't only the mug and the niffler. Nothing had been the same since Newt moved in. His young lover left traces of himself in every nook and cranny of his old, austere apartment, and Percival appreciated it more than he could ever express. He wasn't as bothered by all the creatures constantly underfoot as he had feared he would be, he thought as he sidestepped to avoid the brooding knarl smack in the middle of his kitchen floor. He was happy that one would be rehomed soon. Though, truthfully, he couldn't remember a time in his life when he'd been as happy.
While he'd gladly putter around thinking about Newt for the rest of the morning, he had work to do. He headed to his office, spending a few minutes taking down the wards he'd set the previous night to avoid any intrusion.
Everything looked undisturbed, so Percival settled at his desk and had a quick look through the relevant paperwork to refresh his memory. At five to eight, properly caffeinated and in the right mindset to tackle an inter-department meeting, he fished the smallish crystal R&D had been fiddling with for the past few weeks out of the pouch it'd been delivered in. He passed his fingers over its ridges and spikes, familiarizing himself with the mechanism.
The crystals were still in the testing phase, but they'd performed impeccably to connect groups of up to thirteen people from all over the country, and Percival would only need the basic functions anyway.
He sat at his desk and waited for the clock to strike the hour before he directed his magic to activate the crystal.
Percival was personally acquainted with all the Department Heads of MACUSA through his role as Director of Security and Head of the DMLE, and he thoroughly appreciated the fact that only his Department, that of No-maj Relations, and the Federal Bureau of Covert Vigilance and No-Maj Obliviation were represented in that day's meeting. Miranda was a lovely woman with a firm grasp on what was necessary and what wasn't, while Ferguson was just paranoid enough for his suggestions to be useful instead of deranged, and while Seraphina had people keeping an eye on him just in case he went over that line, it hadn't happened yet.
Limus, the Chief Auror, her deputy Treston, who they've been grooming for the position, and the Auror Commissioner Minus, as members of the DMLE, were under his purview and would be amenable to cutting the meeting short on his word if necessary—if they knew what was good for them.
One after the other, they all appeared hovering above his desk, their image not quite opaque enough but barely distorted by the magic employed to manage this feat.
He sighed inaudibly at seeing that Minus had snuck Pennwhisle into the meeting, doubtlessly to act as his personal secretary and notetaker, but Pennwhisle was sharp, if a little too much of a gossip. As long as the overrepresentation of the Auror Department in the meeting didn't bother the other Heads, he would keep his peace.
For the first few minutes, they greeted each other, confirming the operativeness of the crystals and queering the others about how the lockdown was treating them.
The crystals were quite user-friendly and straightforward, and, as everything seemed to be in order, they dove right into the first matter to discuss. It helped that knowing how to activate and deactivate the crystals was sufficient for the purpose of their meeting, although Percival knew that R&D was elaborating more complex functionalities so they may become an asset on the field at a later date.
Regardless of the applicable advancements, Percival's innate curiosity couldn't stir—he was ready to get on with the meeting and reach its end as swiftly as was reasonable.
"The Department has managed admirably, but following the no-majs' new penchant for recording anything they find even mildly interesting, my recommendation would be to increase the funding—"
Percival was nodding along, ready to second the proposal, when he heard his office door click open and looked beyond his colleagues' projections.
Newt hovered at the entrance, clearly having just gotten up from bed—curls wild and one of Percival's shirts hanging off his lithe frame.
A smile started curving Percival's lips, his mood immediately improved by Newt's presence. But it took him less than a second to notice that Newt appeared distressed.
He tried to convey a question through the arch of his eyebrow, but Newt hesitated, taking a small step back and still holding the door handle like he may close it without coming in, clearly unsure about interrupting. And Percival couldn't have that. Newt was the most important thing in his life, and Percival had meant it when he'd sworn he would never put anything before him.
He focused back on his fellow Heads and quickly caught their attention.
"Miranda, you have my vote, but I fear this meeting will have to proceed without me. If you'll excuse me," he murmured, entirely unconcerned about their reactions as he pressed the right side of the crystal twice to leave the meeting. If it wasn't anything dire, he could always rejoin it later, but if getting to the bottom of Newt's malaise took all morning, he wouldn't mind missing everything and writing a letter of apology to each of his colleagues. Taking care of Newt came first, he thought, looking up to see him frowning and wringing his hands.
"You… you don't have to do that," Newt said.
"I already have," Percival said matter-of-factly. "Are you alright, Newt?"
Newt shifted on his feet.
Percival pushed away from his desk on his comfortable armchair and held out a hand towards him.
"Come here," he asked simply.
Newt hesitated for a second more, but when Percival's body language remained open and welcoming, he stepped into his office and around his desk, folding gratefully into his arms.
Percival closed his eyes and held him tightly, worried about Newt but loving him too much not to enjoy having him curled up in his arms.
He tugged a little and settled Newt on his lap, the warmth of his naked thighs sinking into the cotton of Percival's suit and warming him up as well.
Percival let Newt bury his face in his chest without comment for a little while as he petted his red curls into a semblance of order. When Newt's hold on him didn't seem quite as desperate, Percival lowered his hand from Newt's hair to his cheek and lifted his sweet face towards his.
He stared deeply into his lover's glasz eyes.
"What is it, sweetheart?" he murmured.
Newt shook his head.
"It's nothing, really. I'm overreacting, and I'm sorry I bothered you in your office—"
Percival interrupted him.
"You aren't bothering me. You could never bother me, Newt. You're always welcome in any space I occupy, and I don't think you're overreacting, though I could state it with even more certainty if you wanted to share what had distressed you so."
Newt shifted a little on his lap, and Percival held him around the waist, waiting patiently.
"It's stupid…" Newt admitted.
Percival's arms tightened a little around him.
"Please don't say that," he asked gravely. "Your feelings aren't stupid, and nothing would make me happier than letting me help." He continued when he saw that Newt still hesitated to open up. "I love you too much to ever be alright with seeing you in distress."
Newt stared at him for a long moment, looking for any sign that he didn't truly mean that. But Percival did, and was happy to wait until Newt was ready.
Newt buried his head back in Percival's chest and hugged him. With his lips against Percival's sternum, he said, "I love you too."
Percival let those words warm his chest from the inside out as he rubbed Newt's back in slow circles.
"What has upset you, my love?"
"I'm sorry, I just…" Newt bit his lip before starting again, "Waking up alone, now that they've confirmed travel will be restricted indefinitely… It just reminded me of how much I miss my family."
Percival held him close, pained that what afflicted Newt wasn't an issue he could easily solve.
Newt pushed away from his chest to raise his head and reassure him.
"But I'm so happy with you! I'm so happy we've finally gotten married, and I'm happy to have come back to America with you like we had planned!" Newt assured him wholeheartedly. Then he slowed down. "I just wasn't expecting to be so… cut off from everyone back home… And not being able to just go out whenever. I don't know, it hit me all at once this morning and I just— I—"
Percival hugged him, kissing his cheek before laying his chin on the top of his head.
"You don't have to explain, Newt, I understand. It's a difficult situation, one we couldn't have anticipated, and I never want you to apologize for needing comfort, alright? What kind of husband would I be if I didn't provide you with a shoulder to cry on?"
He nudged Newt a little, hoping his light tone would earn him a smile.
Newt didn't disappoint, flashing him a brief grin before burying his head between his shoulder and neck.
"I'm so happy we got married," Newt repeated softly, and Percival sighed, letting go of some of the tension he'd carried since he'd seen Newt distressed.
Hearing that Newt loved him and didn't regret their marriage was great, but Percival hadn't been worried about either. They had courted for years, and Newt had wished to marry as soon as possible, eager to bond the moment he graduated Hogwarts at eighteen. It had been his family that asked him to wait, and Percival had supported them. Newt was an absolute darling, and Percival understood why the Scamanders had wanted to keep him around as long as possible.
Still, no one could have imagined that less than two weeks after the wedding there would be a worldwide lockdown. Percival has always been more of a solitary creature and his new husband was more than enough company for him, but only communicating with his family through floo after living with them up until the wedding was understandably challenging for Newt. He hadn't been so cut off from the majority of his family even during his research trips, camping in dangerous jungles all over the world to study the magical fauna while Percival tried to organize his vacation time so he could catch up with Newt somewhere and spend time with him.
He only wished he could do more for his husband, but even as Director of Magical Security, he couldn't just demand an international portkey during a worldwide lockdown.
Newt sighed, less burdened than when he'd come into his office, and burrowed further into Percival's shirt, happy to be held.
Percival settled more comfortably on his chair so he could hold and comfort his husband for as long as possible. He couldn't reverse a global lockdown for Newt, but he could do this, and burying his nose in Newt's curls and wrapping his arms around him would always be the best parts of his day.
He barely spared a thought for the meeting he had disconnected from. There would be others.