With your black cool eyes and your bitten lips

[newtralize]

[Newt's every intention was to return back to England after everything that had happened in New York. Frank had been freed and was making his way back to Arizona; something that saddened him as he had hoped to release him in Arizona. Madame Picquery had also made it very obvious that she really didn't want him and his case in New York any longer than necessary. And really, he had enough adventure with the whole Grindelwald and Obscurial business.

It was a shame he was a bleeding heart and Grindelwald's reveal and capture had put everyone in an immediate tizzy. If Grindelwald had been impersonating Percival... Well, where was the man himself? Newt couldn't leave America in good conscience. He had petitioned the Madame President to extend his stay and convince the Ministry not to drag him back to England quite yet (they were real cross with him). That he could locate Percival Graves. He didn't make empty promises and he knew time was against them. With Grindelwald's capture, it was a race against the clock to find the man. Newt couldn't imagine his health being great, so that meant the man was starving and would require immediate medical attention. This made their window of time hilariously small.

Everyone from every department had been working sleepless nights as they bustled through MACUSA and the streets of New York. Grindelwald had given them nothing but jeers and taunts to the point that he was sure the Madame President was just going to execute the man right then and there. Her calm exterior did not hide the rage in her eyes and he had seen such a look in plenty of wild beasts.

Newt runs a hand through his hair as he takes a large sip from his cup of coffee. He hated the stuff, but he could see why Americans drank this stuff like it was their life blood. He had Theseus sent him letters that Grindelwald had sent him while pretending to be Percival. He had requested a few objects from Percival's office. Nothing of real importance, but stuff that may still hold Percival's magic signature. Anything that could be used for tracking.

It's an odd hour of the night and here he was, running around New York with Tina in too cold of weather and bitter gross coffee. And their only guide was his niffler. It had taken quite a bit of coaxing to get his little pilferer to cooperate. It wasn't until Picquery had offered one of her lavish rings to the creature with a promise of a second one if the little guy could locate their man. Newt had used every tracking spell and trick in his repertoire (which was more than what the entire Auror department had) and they seemed to finally have a lead of some sort.

His niffler took them well out of New York City and into a less bustling part of New York. He couldn't say it was countryside, but the estates became larger and fanciful and very secluded. It wasn't until they stopped at a rather old, but gorgeous, estate that he could feel it. There was magic around it. He picked up his niffler and tickled its belly for a second before putting the creature back in his briefcase. More for safety than anything else. Tina mentioned something about not doing anything stupid and waiting for her to come back with a team before apparating away. Newt was very bad at listening, he supposes.

He enters the estate on his own.

It's tricky business, he finds. Carefully laid out traps and undoing intricate spells. Grindelwald certainly went out of his way to be a difficult sod. It's quiet and unnerving as he goes down to the basement first. He speaks up if only for his own nerves and not because he thinks anyone will reply.] Hello? I'm aware that I'm intruding, but there's quite a bit of magic running through this place. Surely someone is here?

I'm just looking for someone is all. A Percival Graves? Why am I talking to myself?

Comments

[graveintentions]

[Percival had lost count of the days. He had memorized every inch of the room in which he was confined, and had tried to measure the days with the arrival of a single meal through a dumbwaiter, but when the meals stopped arriving, there had been no hope at guessing the time of his confinement.

He found that cynicism fueled him in his worst moments. The Auror program had warned that such predicaments might take place even the best of the lot, and that it was important to mark every chance, every potential piece of aid, to strike at your captor. But there had been nothing. The man who had imprisoned him had thought of everything. His wand rested in pieces in his pocket, from when they'd been deposited next to his unconscious body for him to find when he woke up.

He expected to die of starvation when the food and water failed to arrive. It wasn't a case of giving up hope anymore; it was a matter of accepting his death with dignity. This was what he'd spent the last day or so weakly, calmly considering, when there was a voice in the hallway, the first human voice he had heard in months.]

Hello? [His voice is weak, and he hates the sound of it, knowing it may not be able to save him. He tries again, straining to shout.] Here!

[newtralize]

[Oh. Well, he certainly wasn't expecting an answer. That honestly caught him off guard.

He's cautious as he walks down the hallway. Not because he thinks it's a trap. That's silly. There's definitely traps set up just like the entire bloody place. It feels like a painfully slow process knowing that there was someone in the house and getting to them now. Unraveling intricate spellwork was not a particularly easy task and Grindelwald was a much stronger caster than Newt was that it was rather complicated.

It probably feels like an eternity for the other man before Newt cautiously pushes the door open and peeks in just a smidge.] H-Hello?

[The tip of his wand glows as he takes a tentative step inside the room; not wanting to rush in.]

[graveintentions]

[Adrenaline pulses through him. Is this real? Is he hallucinating from hunger, that someone has come through the door, the light from a wand? Percival pushes himself up against the wall and tries to get to his feet, fumbling and resting back again when he realizes there's no chance in hell he's going to stand.

It flashes through his mind that this person may be related to his faceless captor, and he tenses, his body aching.]

Who are you. [His voice is rough, beyond weary. Hope hurts to think about.]

[newtralize]

Right. I, er. [Newt fumbles with his words as he cautiously puts his briefcase down. It's a slow action, so the other could watch every movement he made. He had dealt with creatures in captivity before and people in captivity really weren't much different.]

Newt Scamander. [He slowly stands upright, but doesn't move closer yet. He'll wait and make sure the other is willing to let him move closer. It's a slow process, but one he's happy to make if it means things move slowly.] You, er, well I don't actually know now that I think about it- right where was I... I'm Theseus Scamander's brother. He's an Auror from the Ministry. A correspondence.

[He tries to give the other a reassuring smile. It's a little nervous.] Mister Graves, correct? Would- Would it be okay to approach you? [He holds both his hands up as though to try and convince the other he really isn't here on less savory terms.]

[graveintentions]

[This has to be real, Percival realizes. His imagination wouldn't furnish... this. The details. The name he recognizes. The humble demeanor of this young man. He stares, then manages to push himself up to his feet with the help of the wall.]

Percival Graves. [That was easy enough to confirm, but he doesn't know what else to say; the most important thing, perhaps.] I know who did this. [Then he exhales sharply.] And I need to eat. Know anywhere we could go?

[newtralize]

A pleasure to meet you. [His eyes flick at the other and away. He puts his wand in his mouth (which is still lit up) and seems to dig through the pockets of his coat for a moment before he pulls out a flask. He then tucks the wand behind his ear and walks over to the other.] A team of your Aurors are on their way and should be here soon. [He holds out the flask to the other.] Water. You've been, uhm, missing. For awhile.

[Not that Percival probably needed to be told that particular detail.] Grindelwald. He's in custody. MACUSA custody. [Newt seems to be looking over the other to see if there's any injuries he can make out at the moment. Also, to distract himself because he isn't sure what to say while Tina returns with a team.] Also, I apologize. You'll probably be taken to the hospital. Your stomach probably will need something easier to digest, as bland as hospital food is...

[graveintentions]

[He doesn't even hesitate to drink the water as Newt talks, wiping his mouth and handing the flask back without exactly looking at him. He favors his right shoulder as he stands as straight as he can, now well-accustomed to the ache of the curse wounds underneath his ragged clothes.] Hospital. [He manages a wry, barely there smile.] I figured. Never liked hospitals. They don't like me either. [Hospitals have always been an impediment to getting to work, to continuing cases. This feels like a special case and he knows it, but he still burns to solve this particular case even if every bit of him aches for some reason or another.] At least they caught the bastard.

[He realizes in a dawning moment he's pushed himself too far, and he doesn't know if he can hold himself up even a second longer.] Sorry. [It comes out in a grunt.]

[newtralize]

[Newt only absentmindedly takes the flask back from Percival. He hears voices and more noises and someone calling his name. His mouth quirks in a smile. Tina would surely lecture him for running into a magicked house on his own.] I'm not so fond of them myself. I don't like the smell and the feel of them, I suppose. A little too artificial for my taste.

[He stands upright and shoots a Patronus out resembling that of a hippogriff. He was just gonna use it to lead the team of Aurors where they were. The sooner they got them out of here, the better.] I, yes. More or less. [He smiles nervously at that. Someone would surely give a thorough report to the man later. Newt imagines Tina given her huge part played in the whole thing.] He wasn't particularly a swell fellow was he...

No need to apologize. Really, I'm sorry. [There's sympathy for the man. It isn't really pity in Newt's eyes but an earnest care. It's how he felt whenever he had to save any injured creature. The same feeling of trying to save the Sudanese girl.

He doesn't say anything more as a group of Aurors start flooding into the room. Some immediately move to help Graves; careful as they can since they didn't know the extent of his injuries. Newt quietly steps back and stands next to Tina. He glances at the other every so often as there's a sudden flurry of activity as a few leave to probably sweet the rest of the estate and the others prepare to take him to the hospital proper.]