Actions

Work Header

Blame Theseus for Everything

Work Text:

"Right. Who the hell gave you permission to come into my crime scene?" Percival Graves glowered into the ginger-haired stranger's face.

"I was told you needed help with some escaped chimaeras," the man said, body lanugage meek under his brilliant blue coat and tone submissive. His eyes roamed the area behind Percival though, already assessing the placement of certain things: broken cages, blood splatters, and dead bodies lying in said blood splatters.

Percival's glare intensified.

"Whoever let you in will be receiving a severe tongue-lashing, believe me. Now--"

"Sir, my name is--" the man tried to cut in apologetically, but Percival was having none of it.

"Is knowing your name going to help me find the murderers of the eight people behind me?" Percival hissed, tone promising severe consequences upon further misbehavior. "Why are you still in my face, wasting my time?"

The man bit his lip but he didn't look even a little cowed. In the back of his mind, Percival noted how remarkable that was.

"Someone stood in front of the caged chimaeras and aggravated them, provoked the chimaeras enough that--"

Percival felt the last dredges of his patience fraying even further. "Dear Circe, spare me what is obviously some over-eager know-it-all who--"

"They'll head to open spaces, preferrably areas resembling their natural habitats. Open fields, parks, maybe a garden or forest," the man continues quietly but firmly.

Percival crossed his arms across his chest with a sigh. The man radiated a certain confidence, one that could have come across as arrogance when shown by other people, but not this one. Interesting.

Percival relented. It's easy enough to check, anyway, and so he raised his voice.

"O'Reilly! You heard the man, pop into the nearest parks or gardens or what-have-you and report back as soon as you can!"

"On it, sir!"

Percival turned back to the man, expecting smugness and finding none. The man looked contemplative.

"Any other bright ideas?" Percival prompted, dry as the Sahara.

"A whole pack of chimaeras would be difficult to fight. The best course of action would be... to incapacitate them swiftly. An area-wide sleeping charm, perhaps?"

"Is that how you'd do it?" Percival asked.

"When in a pinch, yes. They're likely still aggrieved from earlier and won't be feeling cooperative," the man answered.

As if chimaeras are ever cooperative and not perpetually murderous magical beasts, getting Percival more interested by the second.

Right on cue, O'Reilly returns with a pop. "Found the lot of them, sir!"

Percival turned away from his idle perusal of the stranger. "Good. Take Adams, Adler, and Moretti. Set up a perimeter, the usual. Don't approach, but I've been informed that area-wide sleep charms should make quick work of them. Go."

O'Reilly nods, and the together with the other three, departs again through a newly-made portkey.

When Percival turned back around, the stranger was nowhere to be found. Percival's eye twitched.

-x-

"He was amazing, Theseus!" Newt gushed. "He had complete command of everyone there, and everyone knew it--"

Theseus rubbed his eyes wearily. He'd sent Newt abroad on a trial basis for the unique 'magizoologist' consultant job his brother had insisted on creating. He'd been betting on Percival Graves' usual surly behavior and unmanageable bureaucratic paperwork. He'd been expecting the man to turn Newt away without knowing who he is, without giving him a chance to even speak, perhaps even slap a fine on his brother's wrists for daring to step foot on a crime scene.

He'd wanted, in the privacy of his mind, for Newt's incredibly dangerous one-of-a-kind job to be headed off at the pass. Paper-pusher is inherently safer than facing magical beasts on the regular. Cruel as it would've been, he'd hoped that the uncooperative attitude of MACUSA Aurors would discourage his brother enough to quit while he was ahead.

Of course, he'd forgotten to take into account that the more dangerous the creature, the easier his brother falls in love with it. Apparently Percival Graves in full 'don't mess with me' Auror mode was dangerous enough that Newt fell in love with him at first contact.

"--he looked ready to murder me, but he didn't even blink when I suggested checking nearby parks or gardens! He barked an order and his people didn't hesitate to follow his orders! He even heeded my suggestion of using sleeping spells, do you know how rare it is, for people to choose non-lethal methods when faced with--"

As Newt's word-vomit continued, Theseus' mood darkened. Graves better keep Newt in excellent health, or heads will roll, their long-time friendship notwithstanding. He's only ever seen Newt this enthusiastic about magical creatures before. Never due to meeting a human.

"I can't wait for the next time they need help with magical beasts. I mean, not that I'm hoping for more deaths, but--"

Overseas, Percival Graves shuddered involuntarily, feeling something troublesome coming in his future, even as his brain can't stop thinking about the strange ginger he'd recently met.

He didn't even get the man's name. He couldn't decide whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.