A Graves Mistake

Title: A Graves Mistake
Author: ExcentrykeMuse
Fandoms: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
Pairings: Percival Graves/Newt Scamander, (some) Gellert as Percival/Newt
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: character death, character impersonation, slash, pureblood culture, arranged marriages, poor Porpentina
Author’s Note: Wow.  I got this prompt and was like, “Who is Percival Graves again?” So I went and watched FBAWTFT.  That movie came out in 2016!!!  What ever happened to this series?  Weren’t there supposed to be five movies?
Prompt: for cassyann2 who wanted Newt/Graves with pureblood culture (there’s a little of that)

A Graves Mistake

I.

Percival Graves walked down Knockturn Alley with no hesitation in his step.  He was elegantly dressed, he always was, and knew he looked handsome.  He was in England to meet his intended.

The Graves family had always married into well established families though always of American extraction.  His own mother had been an American heiress from Saratoga.  However, Graves had a tendre for young men.  He never dipped his quill in the company ink, but when he was visiting England in 1918, he had spotted a young man in the Department of House Elves Relocation and had found himself struck. 

It had taken him two years of careful negotiations with the young wizard’s family to bring him to this point—to the point of coming to England and going on his first marriage date.

The door to the Wicked Stepmother was battered in and the sign was a charred piece of wood with barely visible letters scratched on it.  Graves used his cane to enter and was met with a high beamed ceiling and polished wood floors.  The interior certainly did not match the ruined appearance given to the outside world.

He walked in purposefully and approached the maître d’ on the opposite end, an tall elegant woman in crimson robes.  “Graves,” he informed her, “table for two.”  The elegant witch looked up at him with pleasure.

He slid his membership card from America over to her, a deep aqua blue with a wisp of gray.

“Our American contingent,” she agreed, not even looking down at her list.  “Young Mr. Scamander is not here yet.”  Flicking her fingers, purple sparks sprang from her fingers and danced in the air.  She inclined her head.

Graves nodded.  He followed the sparks to a table by the window.  It was the best seat in the house.  Respectability could buy you anything.

Fifteen minutes later, Newt was decidedly late.

Graves did not make a show of checking his time piece or even looking at the menu.  The witches and wizards around him were all drinking tea at their various tables, some catching glances at him, wondering who the well dressed foreigner was.

“Sorry!”

Graves heard Newt rushing in before he saw him, dressed in deep purple robes and hurrying into his seat, nearly toppling it backward in his rush to get there.  “We had this sweet little house elf, Minx, and I couldn’t see her spend another night in the workhouse.”

Newt looked up with bright, apologetic eyes.

Graves, ever the gentlewizard that he was, would never reproach Newt for his bad manners.  In fact, Graves found it rather charming.  He placed a smile on his face and took in Newt, from his respectable robes to his windswept hair and eager face.  Newt wanted to be here.  He was genuinely sorry.  Graves could see it in his eyes.  Graves found he could forgive this young man anything.

“I trust you’ve found her a home,” he offered, falling into the chosen conversation.

“I hope so,” Newt babbled on.  “I have a preliminary placement.”  He gave an approximation of a smile.  “Do you have house elves in America?  Theseus says I’ll have to move.”

“We do,” Graves told him.  “I have three bonded at our house on Fifth Avenue.”  He said our because to Graves it was a foregone conclusion that Newt would be his husband and would be moving in at some point in the future.  “But I understand your passion lies with magical creatures.”

Newt’s eyes brightened up.  “I have a niffler.”

“What in heaven’s name is a niffler?” Graves laughed.

The idea of ordering tea was completely forgotten.

II.

Graves watched Newt as he walked around the edges of the lake.  He was leading an Abraxas around gently by a lead.  The poor animal had wounded its wing and Newt was nursing it back to health.  Somehow, Newt had come upon the creature and coaxed it back to the Scamander home.  He hadn’t fully explained it to Graves, but Graves trusted in Newt’s talent.

Theseus came up behind Graves at the window. 

“Newt is only twenty-three,” Theseus reminded him.

“Twenty-three is of an age to marry.  He’s been at the Ministry for Magic since he was fifteen.  He is surely mature for his years.”  Graves continued to look out the window.

“In the contract he is given four years to write his book on mazizoology before he must settle down to bear your heirs.  He may keep his name for publishing rights though all children will bear the name ‘Graves.’”

“Agreed.”  Graves glanced over his shoulder.  “I will make your brother very happy.”

Theseus looked out the window.  “That is all I can ask, I suppose.  He will sneak a crup or two into the country.”

“We will have a house full of crups,” Graves laughed, happy at the thought.

Outside by the lake, Newt was now taking off the lead from the Abraxas and coaxing the Pegasus to try to walk on his own.  Graves was enthralled by his presence and his gentleness.

They spent the wedding night in England.  Graves swept his hand over Newt’s brow and wondered that this boy should be his.  He knew this man’s heart was so big that he would have to let him go, for Newt to come back to him.  But Newt would come back to him.

III.

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them was a triumph.  Graves had never been so proud in his life.  Now, though, now—now their family could start.  Newt just wanted to take a quick trip to New Guinea and then he would be home, in America.

Graves just had to wait until then.

Meanwhile a threat was growing.  There was a new Dark Lord.  He wasn’t just in Europe, they said he was a threat in America. 

IV.

Graves was called to a broken down house in the Bronx.  Newt was expected in three weeks’ time.  The house was in ruins.  He looked around and could see that something terrible had happened there.

“I’ve been watching you.”

Turning, Graves could only see shadows.  The house was empty.

A shadow elongated from a tree outside a shattered window and caught his foot.  Graves slashed out with his wand, but it was too late.

The last thought in his head was how he had to pick up Newt at the boat.

No one ever found his body.

V.

Newton Artemis Fido Scamander Graves was at the boat but there was no one to meet him.  Odd.  It was unlike Percival to abandon him.  He was Head of the Auror Department for the Magical Congress and if something had come up, he could always have delegated it.  They hadn’t seen each other in over eighteen months…

Newt took his passport and his handy suitcase (he wouldn’t say what was or what wasn’t inside) and entered the country.

The Graves family had a townhouse on Fifth Avenue, so he was going to take a taxi there.  What he wasn’t expecting was for a niffler to get out of his suitcase and for a Muggle to get involved with a bank heist.  An Auror also wanted to take him in for a Class 3, whatever that was.

He was brought into the Auror Office and he saw Percival in conference with the President of MACUSA.  The problem was Percival looked straight through him.

Then when Percival reappeared not an hour later in some sort of little office for paper pushers, he didn’t seem to know who Newt was.

“Percy,” he said, rushing to Percival as he walked out of the room.

Percival turned, confused, and looked Newt dead in the eye.

“It’s me—Newt.”

Still no recognition. 

“Your husband.”  He lifted up his left hand to show the Graves insignia ring.  “You weren’t at the boat to meet me and then—Miss Goldstein brought me in for questioning.”

“Newt,” Percival whispered as if something were clicking in his mind.  “That’s why you’ve been sending me letters every week from—everywhere around the world.”

“And you stopped answering,” Newt responded, still so terribly confused.  “Theseus said you were just terribly busy with MACUSA and I shouldn’t worry.  He said not all Aurors were great correspondents.”

Percival looked at him with new eyes, taking him in.  “I have a husband.”

“Yes,” Newt answered, perplexed.  “Don’t you remember?  You went after me rather aggressively with a marriage contract when I was barely twenty years old—”

But Percival wasn’t listening anymore.  Despite propriety and the fact that Porpentina Goldstein standing right there, Percival swept Newt in his arms and kissed him directly in that strange office.  The kiss was long and slow and rather exploratory.  When Percival pulled away, he just looked into Newt’s eyes as if he were a niffler and Newt was something new and shiny.  “Why don’t we begin again?” he whispered.  “You’ve been gone for so long.”

“I did have my book to write,” Newt reminded him.  “Did you even read it when I sent you a copy?”

Percival, however, didn’t answer.  He just kissed Newt again.  Newt, however, found that he couldn’t mind.

The End.