#I know you probably wanted to hear more about gellert's life there but.

[gellcrt]

hc + durmstrang

HEADCANONS ;; some old meme where you send me hc + a word & I rant.

       Laughs bitterly,  becausethere are no words in the English language, nor in any other languages thatGellert has mastery of, to describe how much Gellert despised (and was ill-suited for ) that place ( you know how I sometimeswonder whether or not he would have turned out to be who he is in a moreliberal environment. I suppose that is a difficult point to assess, but Ibelieve that environment shapes you as much as biology does, and that you growto become who you are through your interactions… so…  ). Bitter feelingsaside, my view of Durmstrang Institute is heavily based on  the (generallyunpleasant) reality of the average 19th century learning institution… so let’sgo. 

i. Basic canon.

          Canonically, Durmstrang Institute is known to be a(n uplottable)four-story castle, therefore certainly smaller than Hogwarts. We can infer afew things from this, the most relevant being that the number of studentsattending the Institute is low. Why? Because the castle needs to include allthe necessary facilities for the students (classrooms, dormitories, etc.) andstaff, and other general-use spaces (great hall, library, storage, nursing wing, etc). Thispoint is further reinforced in canon, without being directly so: whileDurmstrang does accept international students, it does notaccept muggleborns, and it’s likely that mixed-blood families with very liberalviews will feel somewhat uncomfortable sending their children there, given theschool’s reputation.  ( But A, Viktor wasn’t a bloodpuritysupremacist and he came from Durmstrang!! me: sure, I’m not saying thateveryone shares the prejudice, andlet’snotforgetaboutKrum’sgrandfatherbeingmurdered. but it’s unlikely that families would send theirchildren to a school whose values weren’t, at least in part, shared by theinstitution. also, I like to think that the there was a bit of evolution inperceptions vis a vis muggles and muggleborns in the 1900′s, but that’s anotherhc for another time….). 

          Where was I - yes, ok, so. Few students. Also,given the limited space, you’re probably living in tight quarters witheveryone; so they’ll be in your business, and you in theirs. Lovely.

          Canonically, we also know thatDurmstrang is located next to mountains, at least two lakes ,and glacier(s)( !!! ). It’s plausible that it has an outlet to an open bodyof water, given their mode of transportation ( listen, how the heck Hogwarts’lake would be connected to it remains a mystery; seriously JKR, what are yousuggesting, inter-lake connections?? I mean… hm… I… I sort of likethis… ). Aaaand, that’s it. That’s the canon, and I wish there was muchmore of it, but so it is (there are a few other tidbits down below, but for thesake of clarity, I just merged them in). Moving onto my hc’s.

ii. Grounds.

        Durmstrang’s grounds are vast ——quite beyond those of Hogwarts, Forbidden Forest and all—— and are, in Gellert’s own not-so-humble, always-stubbornly-decided-and-god-help-you-if-you-try-to-alter-it opinion, the Institute’s only redeeming quality. He has lost countless hours wandering about the grounds, over the years, but many more would be required for a thorough exploration of the land. ‘Tis, from this prospect only, a pity that Gellert’s time at The Institute was cut short, as it was one way in which his time wasn’t waster. Really, if you’re going to cut class or ‘waste’ hours meant for sleep, you might as well spend them on something interesting ( which often meant books of his own choice or work of a more. .. .err, practical nature, but just as often, meant endless hours spent hiking, or getting lost ). 

         As I can only ever picture Durmstrang in Norway ( fite me!! where are my Norwegian followers?? ), I always tend to picture the landscape surrounding Tindefjellbreen and its magnificent views (1, 2, 3). The Tindefjellbreen glacier is actually situated in the Jostedalsbreen National Park, which seems a good/easy enough location for some powerful muggle-repellent charms, so I hc Durmstrang as being situated there.

iii. Architecture.

        Founded in early-to-mid-13th century, the castle is fashioned in thelatest architectural style of the time, which is to say thoroughly Gothic…  how apropos for a castle whose very name is derived from Sturm undDrang ( i.e. basically meaning ‘turmoil’ —— let’s forgetfor a moment that this phrase was only coined in the 17thcentury. I’m always happy to ignore points on which JKR makes no sense. at anyrate, this screams out what a happy, carefree place!! right? ).Nevertheless, some Romanesque influences can become visible if you have an eyefor them( e.g. in some areas of the castle such as the dormitories, the massivepillars and tiny windows distinctly resonate with this style ). In general, thecastle points to a preference of its architect (and likely its commissioner)for the early English Gothic style, rather than the French, or Merlin forbid,the flamboyant Italian style. Though listen,underneath its prim and proper, straight-spined and stick up the arse air…Durmstrang is freaking dramatic. Just look at these freaking doorways,like wtf. Man, that inyourface gothic style, asdfghjkl….!! Repeatafter me:  dra. ma. tic.

          Onthe outside, the light-coloured stone and almost delicate architecture, withits steep roofs, exquisite details ( just look at those flying buttresses! they might as well belace-made-stone, asdfghjkl  ), pointed arches, and overall height leave animpression of grandeur rather than oppression.Although almost intimidating in its exterior beauty ( if one is inclined toappreciate architecture ), it isn’t forbidding. 

          Onceyou set foot inside the castle, especially in the winter months, yourenthusiasm for it might be taken down a notch. Although the great hall anddormitories do have fires burning for the comfort of the staffand students ( listen, one cannot have the promising scion of a noble familysuffer through such a trifling thing as dying from being subjected to inhumantemperatures. I don’t believe for a second that parents, no matter how strict,would put up with it - save that barbarous practice forthe muggles and muggleborns!! ), the rest of the castle is generally damp, andquite cool, if not downright freezing. There’s a particularly nastydraft in the northwestern wing, so cold it can turn your blood to ice on aDecember morning, as Gellert would sourly inform you. If you ever hadany….  ah, mild issues with a fellow,just vigorously aguamenti  at him on such amorning, in such a place, and let nature do the rest…. But we’re digressing.Generally speaking, cold temperatures? Shivering? Well, you’re expectedto suck it up. Strength of will in the face of adversitybuilds character, and all of that.

         The dormitories themselves are simple and utilitarian,without frills ( there is a complete lack of richly-coloured, hangingdraperies, of tapestries, of any decorations. the style isutterly spartan and meant to highlight the utility of theplace. this is not a place of enjoyment or comfort or bonding. itis a place that provides you with a bed to sleep in, andnothing else. you are not to expect luxury from it, lest you become prone toindolence. you are not to spend time ‘socializing’ before bed, lest you becomeprone to mischief. curfew is at 21:30, and you better be asleepby 21:31. this was not a particularly happy pairing to Gellert’s naturalinclination to generally stay awake at night, and even less so with his naturalinclination to break rules ).

         The hallways bear a large number of lancet windows ( tall, narrow windowswith sharp pointed tops ) - some of colourful cubic-mosaic stained glass(reserved for the most important, official venues), but mostof transparent glass, which do nothing to relieve theoppressive atmosphere. They are also tastefully decorated with chiseleddog-tooth moldings and rows of candles ( although in Gellert’s time,these were  already self-lighting, thus sparing a lot of inconvenience forthe castle’s inhabitants ).

        The classrooms aresurprisingly large, and allow for easy movement. Students sittogether at wooden tables, facing the professor’s desk. However, approximatelyhalf of the classes are conducted outside, rather than inside,especially those requiring physical activity.

iv. House System.

        The loose ‘house system’ was instilled several centuries after thefoundation of the school (in the 1400s, approximately), as a direct influencefrom ongoing communication with Hogwarts ( the house system was, at first, arather odd concept for them, what with being generalpractice in the UK and its colonies, without it being a widespread system in placesthat were not a part of the British empire ). The change was a matter of longdebate and disagreements, but finally survived the test of time for itspracticality. Still, it is in no way comparable to the system seen at Hogwarts(or in the Commonwealth in general). Students are split into five houses, thenames of which are of Thracian origin: skilas,  udrénas, semla, spinda,zvaka, and represent the five elements (because I like throwing in wiccanelements into my fiction, that’s why). At present, it is a common rumour that thehousenames were assigned by First Headmistress Vulchanova, in honour of herancestors. Given that she was of Bulgarian ethnicity, and therefore likely tobe of Daco-Thracian descent, this is not an unlikely hypothesis, although itcannot be confirmed by any written account ( this hypothesis is, in fact, false- what with the system being implemented centuries after her deathday.but history has a tendency to get facts distorted over time… ) 

         Thestudents do not bear specific house colours (their uniforms are the same), donot go through any special sorting ceremony (they are arbitrarily assigned to a‘house’ based on the principle of keeping the numbers equal), and aren’t evenrequired to share the same dormitories (which are assigned based onthe same principle, but separate the students by sex and age bracket (11-12, 13-14, 15+). Students in the same “house” are requiredto share a period of thirty minutes together per day, and the eldest areexpected to guide and bear responsibility for their younger housemates’behaviour. Thus, the ‘houses’ could almost be considered akin to‘study groups’, as well as a loose system of auto-regulatory surveillance groups ( what a pleasant thing to always be kept an eye on, both byadults and by your own peers. ). Of note: since the oldest students in each “house” are responsible for the younger’s behaviours, they also incur punishment when a housemate breaks the rules, or displays what could be considered “bad behaviour”. This makes them very… eager… to keep an eye out and correct such behaviour themselves, as they see fit. As long as it does not inconvenience the staff,  this is tolerated, and in subtle ways, even encouraged. ( It’s out of the scope of this small essay to describe some of the infamous happenings in boarding schools in that era, because this is already a small essay, but if you’re familiar with them – you can assume all of that was happening. )

          The ‘friendly competition’ amongst housesnever amounts to much. It isn’t rewarded, or even acknowledged beyond a brief mention at theend of the term reviewing general behaviour. Some houses claim bragging rights in the hallways (those are generally more than enough to stimulate the majority of students), but there is no point system in place, etc.

v. Curriculum.

          I could probably write another 2k on my hc’s on the curriculum alone, so I will only jot down a few notes here. I always imagined the curriculum at Durmstrang to be more practical  than that of ‘present day’ Hogwarts. This is not only due to the different time period, but also to the difference in values between the institutions, with Durmstrang encouraging students to acquire specific skillsets via firsthand experiences, and Hogwarts providing them a wider breadth of knowledge based on a more theoretical approach (i.e. it can be simmered down to a difference in do vs think type of philosophy). This isn’t a critique of either teaching style, just my own perspective on what “teaching philosophy” each school adopted. Therefore, subjects appearing as more “superfluous” or uncertain, such as divination (covered in ‘History’), astronomy (offered as a standalone course, but it’s dreadful), herbology (covered in ‘Potions’), care of magical creatures, etc., were less focused on. History may seem superfluous, but it was heavily focused on as a matter of pride and principle (and happened to be Gellert’s favourite subject, as I pretty much mention at every turn, welp; he just!! feels so strongly!! about this!! okay!! ). In turn, subjects that had direct, quick practical applications (transfiguration, charms, dueling, the dark arts and defence against, potions, rituals and curses) were more heavily focused upon (and were, obviously, mandatory). Language courses, runes, magical theory, etc., were offered as electives.

         Insofar as I see it, Durmstrang also strongly encouraged a healthy mind and body, and included a rigorous, mandatory morning exercise regime for all students, prior to breakfast. By their fourth year, students could opt to have these exercises covered in a ‘class’ (flying, navigation, etc.), as long as they adhered to it. The emphasis on ‘doing, rather than learning about it theoretically’  and on being physically fit is also seen in their dueling classes - Gellert’s dueling style is very active and dynamic as a result of this (the dramatic aspect is all his own doing, welp).

Random trivia.

I can’t stand some views I’ve seen suggesting that Durmstrang is extremely misogynistic, or doesn’t accept girls (wtf). First of all, the school had a First Headmistress. Secondly, this literally goes against canon. I think there would be some degree of misogyny as was common at the time, but if anything – hell, I see them as more progressive than anything. I don’t  know why some people take the whole ‘pureblood superiority’ and turn it into sexism like ???? why???

Corporeal punishment was not only accepted, but seen as necessary. A ruler across your palms or a cane across the back of the legs, like muggles, was the least of your problems. This was also a widespread attitude at the time, so….

There was no “dating” tolerated at school, and no PDA. Whatsoever. You better keep that secret or someone is bound to rat on you, and you won’t like the consequences.

If you opted to take navigation as phys ed., basically, you could get pretty darn good at sailing. It was also a really enjoyable class based on cooperation and teamspirit, and many students made genuine friends here! 

The school colours are red, gold, black, and white. ( The official banner has green in it but SHRUG;; )

All books in the library could be read by any student. Even those that could accidentally kill you. If it physically injured you, it was a lesson taught, and hopefully learned.

Casual reminder that  the political climate in Norway at the time was… interesting, as it only secured its independence in 1905. Gellert smiled at this when he first read the officially proclamation.

Ffs, the teachers were human, and not barbaric, not children-hating monsters. They were just very strict regarding rules and regulations, and they often bore the burden of ‘if anything goes amiss or if there is a complaint, it’s your fault and responsibility’. They worked in a pretty high-stress environment, with little support. StopdemonizingDurmstrangprofs,mostofthemdidokay. Some were, of course, jaded with their position and dgaf. That being said, they also did nothing about issues between students, bullying, etc., sat children down to understand their perspectives, etc.  The prevailing mentality was one of you listen to authority and deal with it. 

 Dueling was taught not only formally (in class), but also informally via a club, which held ranked competitions once per season. Students in the top three positions could be unofficially challenged by anyone, at any point, and these duels were a bit of a sensation.

Those furhats & co. are an absolute necessity.

You did learn the Unforgivables. What better way to defend yourself than to be prepared?

As is typical for Northern and inland Norway, food consisted more of meat and fish than of vegetables (excepting potatoes and onions). Fruit was rare, unless in season. Nevertheless, you never went hungry!

Two words: aurora borealis!!  ( it’s high up north, after all!)

Saturday afternoons and Sundays were free periods. Thank Circe.

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

(I'm very sorry if this topic has been brought up before)(also sorry for the typos and grammatical errors, my english is pretty bad)

Why is Mahoutokoro in HPHM villainized? Why is the book on the history of Mahoutokoro in the restricted section?! Did Mahoutokoro and Hogwarts have some beef and we don't know about it?(huh this is actually interesting, but JC would never do this)

Anyways, I think that it's very dumb that Mahoutokoro expels and arrests students who use any kind of dark magic.

"Oh what's that? You're an 11 year old who casted a harmless jinx to prank your classmates? YOU SHALL ROT IN THE PRISON OF AZKABAN FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE!!"

Also if dark magic is in fact,banned, then the headmaster is a huge hypocrite since one of his favourite spells is an ancient and horrible curse that can kill thousands of people just like that! (Come to think of it, it's hilarious, hogwarts rewards students for tempering with ancient structures that free ancient curses in the school's halls and put everyone in mortal danger meanwhile mahoutokoro expels you for casting a curse)

It would make more sense if the student in question used ancient dark magic. WHAT IF ancient japanese magic is amongst the most mysteryous and sacred kind of magic, up there with african and indian magic! Ancient dark magic requires the soul of a human being or other superior magical entity (like a Qilin) in order to reach it's highest potential. It is the only kind of magic that can summon dark spirits from the Other Realm.

So, wizards with white robes were in fact murderers, actually worse than that since they used the soul of the victim for a dark purpose. The white robe was a warning to get away from the mage since they were capable to do horrible things for power.

Oh what's that? "capable of doing horrible things for power"? They sound like great puppets. They sound like the kind of people R would recruit.

So to answer Mrs. Bones's question in Kazuhiro's trial. Shiratori was expelled because he tried to summon an ancient evil spirit because R requested it. Who was murdered in his attempt to do that? You can decide that!

I have some more headcanons about Shiratori and R. If you wanna hear, let me know!

You know, I don't believe this subject has ever been brought up in my inbox, so this should be fun! (And please, no need to apologize aha, goodness knows I repeat myself a lot anyway.)

I'm not sure if Mahoutokoro is supposed to be vilified in HPHM. I can see how you got there, but I have to wonder if the book being restricted is really because Mahoutokoro is a sore or taboo subject. I think it's far more likely that there's information in that book that is considered worthy of being restricted, probably certain historical events, or references to particular types of magic. I'm not sure what, exactly. But I bet something happened in the school's history, not even necessarily of their own fault, that the staff have deemed the book shouldn't be available for anyone to just pick up and read. Like, even if Mahoutokoro is a subject that the teachers would prefer students not know about or ask about, I doubt it's because of any personal beef with the school itself. I mean, Hogwarts has a friendly relationship with Durmstrang for goodness' sakes. A school that teaches the Dark Arts, does not admit muggle-borns, and produced students like Gellert Grindelwald. If they'll invite a school like that to participate in the Triwizard Tournament, I doubt they're on bad terms with Mahoutokoro.

I'm equally unsure if Mahoutokoro is that strict when it comes to the Dark Arts. I don't necessarily mind that they have a zero tolerance policy for them - like, even if The Dark Arts can be used for noble reasons, that's not really what they're designed for, and if I was teaching children magic, I'd want to discourage them from that path as well...but the harshness of the punishments would still need to be relative to the harshness of the offense. In this case, it would depend a lot on their definition of what constitutes "dark magic. I think there's a difference between dueling magic and dark magic. Example, the stunning spell? I don't think that's Dark. I would hope Mahoutokoro doesn't interpret it as Dark either. I mean, do they have a Defense Against The Dark Arts class available, or some equivalent? Because you can't really teach that class without teaching combat magic.

Either way, I would assume and hope it's not as ludicrous as the example you provided. That they don't just throw eleven year olds out of their school for a bit of harmless sparring. I mean, even Hogwarts bans frivolous use of magic in the corridors, but nobody actually respects that rule, so it may just be that the system is theoretically strict as a deterrent, but in practice, the staff would only expel someone who deserved it. Actually, we know that a student who experiments with the Dark Arts doesn't just get expelled, they "turn white." So it may be down to an enchantment on their robes that activates automatically if they detect dark magic. Or maybe the spell is done manually after wrongdoing is discovered. We don't really know. I would question why Shiratori wears the robes everywhere if he can just take them off (and the question still remains how how this is in any way a punishment if you don't have to wear them constantly) but he may also be proud of what he's done.

It's interesting that you mention Protego Diabolica, because by all accounts, that spell itself is quite contradictory. It's a defensive spell, it acts as a kind of shield...only it's born of dark magic. A Dark spell...that has the primary function to be protective. That just seems kind of backwards, doesn't it? I can only imagine the complex level of spell-design that went into creating this one. I'd have to assume it's both a light spell and a dark spell at once - or else it's just living proof that a light hearted wizard can use The Dark Arts without corrupting themself, and a dark hearted wizard can do the opposite. I really wanna know more about Protego Diabolica, it's actually so damn fascinating if you stop to think about it.

Ancient Magic though, that's got me curious. Especially since we're apparently going to learn quite a bit about it during Hogwarts Legacy. Anytime a story applies worldbuilding and hints at a much more complex past, I just gobble it up. (The Owl House is like a feast for that kind of thing, if anyone reading this wants to check it out.) Actually, that makes a lot of sense given what we know about R and their interests! I wouldn't be surprised if the "Ancient Magic" is exactly what they're after! Maybe that's the kind of magic that fuels the Cursed Vaults? Japan, Africa, India, and I would also make a case for Brazil (and Castelobruxo) as being a hotspot for this kind of power. I also tend to be of the mind that the most powerful magic, light or dark, draws power from the soul.

Nice reference to the Qilin, by the way. I love those sweet little babies and I just want to hug them for the rest of time.

I agree with you and I think there's a difference between the mundane of The Dark Arts, and the more obscure stuff. Even the Unforgivables are infamous, they're probably some of the first things that budding Dark Wizards try. Crucio is baby's first torture, but if you really put the work in, and are willing to look far and wide for power - and do unspeakable, horrid things to obtain it - you can go beyond what one might call, "usual evil." Like say...making Horcruxes? Which, oh look at that, involves using and mutilating the soul. But could you imagine if there was a way to mutilate another person's soul? That would be even worse, right? Imagine if Shiratori didn't just murder someone to bring forth this evil spirit, he offered up their soul to the creature, and the person he sacrificed isn't dead - they're still existent in some kind of #AndNowIMustScream style of perpetual torture.

Then again, Shiratori doesn't strike me as the type of guy who'd have the stomach for that.

I so, so love your ideas and I truly hope you'll share more of your head-canons with me! I have a lot of fun talking about this with you.

[litsetaure]

I need to talk about this scene. Initially, I thought that Gellert just slipped up and blew his cover; he got caught up in what was happening that he forgot himself. You can almost sense it; the Aurors are thinking ‘wait, what?’ Mind you, if this is the point where the MACUSA (and, for that matter, Newt) realised that something was not right, I have some serious questions about what exactly actual Percival Graves was like! It really does say a lot about Graves that the first time they realized that Graves probably wasn't Graves until that speech that basically overturns what they thought he believed on the Statute of Secrecy. Not to mention that sentencing Newt and Tina to that creepy as fuck death penalty didn’t raise any alarms at all!

But then, I thought about the context. If I recall rightly, this scene is directly after Credence has apparently been killed. Obviously, come the second film, we know that’s not true, but as yet, no one else does. And I started to wonder - did Gellert actually slip up? Or did he intend to reveal himself? Had he just had enough and decided to tell ‘his’ colleagues the truth?

I mean, if you listen to him speaking - initially, he doesn’t really sound just angry. Maybe a little bit, but to me, he sounds more sad and frustrated. Especially at the start with the line ‘Madam President…I ask all of you. Who does this law protect?’ It might be his accent, but to me, he sounds like he’s on the verge of tears. His cause is something very important to him and he just witnessed what he thought was a murder of a boy who had a condition that was in no way his own fault. And that would strike a chord within him. Because he’s seen it before with Ariana Dumbledore. A young person suffering from a condition that was in no way her fault, but which kept her trapped and hidden away because of a law that would see her taken and locked away by a draconian Ministry, under the guise of keeping the wizarding community safe and secret.

And it frustrates and hurts Gellert. He doesn’t blow his cover here because he got sloppy. He effectively revealed himself, because he’s had enough of hiding. He wants these people to understand what’s at stake. To see that the law they value so much is only hurting them and others like them. And why is it their obligation to hide? They’re not shameful. They’ve done nothing wrong. Are they really to be condemned to live in secret and fear because of something they can’t control and to protect people who lash out at what they don’t understand?

Yeah. He’s not really angry, or not just angry. He’s just done. Done with all of this bullshit. He knows the damage the statute can do. It denied Percival Dumbledore the right to tell his side of the story (out of fear for his daughter) and ripped him away from the family who needed him. It destroyed Albus’ chance for a future. It also ultimately cost Kendra and Ariana their lives.

And even if he hasn’t initially given away enough to tell everyone who he is, he’s told enough to make it clear which side he’s on. He’s not stupid. He had to know that some people there may have suspected who he was, or at the very least a follower of Gellert’s, and he just turns his back on them after that speech that basically confirms which side of this conflict he's on, if nothing else. And he just turns his back and walks away (in disgust), like it's no big thing. Like there aren't AT LEAST 30 Aurors and President Picquery at his back, and also Newt Scamander and his trunk full of creatures (and Dumbledore's man). That is one hell of a bold power move. He’s saying ‘I know what I’m revealing to you here and I don’t give a shit what you think. I’m done hiding away. I’m not going to tolerate this law that condemns and harms us. I’m going to fight it with everything I have. If you want to attack me and fight me, that’s fine. I’m up for it. I’m not giving up. Do your worst.’

Also, if you watch the fight, it’s pretty typical of what we know of Gellert in a fight. He’s got virtually the entire MACUSA ready to take him down (and he also does not look remotely worried by this, rather he’s thinking ‘okay, fair enough. Do your worst’) but, when they’re firing at him, it looks as though he never casts a single attacking spell. He only appears to be using shielding charms. Damn powerful ones, yes, but shield charms nonetheless. And that’s very similar to what we see and hear of how he fights. He never attacks first. The threeway duel? Aberforth drew his wand first. The fight at the rally? The Auror attacked first, killing the red-haired witch. And here - he knows the Aurors intend to take him down. In such a situation, you have the right to protect yourself - which he does, with the shield charm. But, again, he doesn’t appear to attack them.

And yet, with only shielding charms, he more than holds his own until Newt sends out the bird. That is INCREDIBLY impressive in and of itself. But it’s even more impressive because of one small detail.

The wand he’s using is not the Elder Wand. It’s (I assume) Percival Graves’ wand. Which means Gellert is doing all this badassery with a wand that is not actually his own, either simply because it didn’t choose him in the first place (which it obviously didn’t), or because, not only did it not choose him, but he also didn’t win it/become that wand’s Master. We don’t know what happened between him and Graves (though I’ve seen somewhere that JKR has confirmed Graves is still alive…can’t for the life of me remember where though!), but damn…that’s really impressive.

(Side note, but it’s really interesting to note that, if Gellert did leave Graves alive, it’s not the first time he’s left someone alive when someone else might have killed them. He did the same with Gregorovitch when he stole the Elder Wand. He got the wand, but left Gregorovitch alive. I’ve wondered about that before, since surely the last thing he should do is leave any sort of trail, especially when looking for a powerful artefact like the Elder Wand. And leaving Gregorovitch alive does, ultimately, come back to bite him in the arse when Voldy comes calling. It’s possible that he simply does not take pleasure in killing, and really only does it in self-defence, which says quite a bit about him, in all honesty…)

But this final point about the wand(s) leads to another issue. If Gellert is master of the elder wand and does all that impressive shit with Graves’ wand that isn’t his…how does he lose to Albus?? He’s shaping up to be immensely powerful, intelligent and magically gifted (and also, in terms of his ideas and motives, ABSOLUTELY RIGHT) and yet…Albus beats him? I’m not saying Albus isn’t powerful as fuck and a damn good duellist (he certainly is), but I feel like Gellert is more than a match for him - and they both know it. And yet…Albus wins the duel, and the Elder Wand. It seems suspicious to me. As though…actually, yes. I’m going to say it. I’m now 1000% convinced that Gellert might not have outright surrendered, but he was absolutely holding back against Albus and, in the end, for reasons currently unknown, he threw the duel.

[silverynight]

Gardenias and roses

He realizes, after he's back in Nurmengard, looking down at the skull in his hands, that he doesn't mean to hurt Newton.

The purpose of looking for him was to make sure the magizoologist didn't interfere with plans again; Gellert just wanted to threaten him, nothing more. However, Newton noticed him and fought him thinking the dark lord had come to hurt him and his creatures.

That was not the case. Gellert marveled at Newton's dueling skills and saw, mesmerized, as the redhead managed to escape from him on a dragon the size of a small mansion.

Fortunately, Rosier is not there to hear him chuckle or to see him smile like an idiot. A gentle steam is getting out of the skull's eyes and Gellert stops himself from using it to try to see something about Newton.

He shouldn't be thinking about him at all.

***

In the blink of an eye and with a fierce expression on his face, Newton disarms three wizards. Gellert tries not to stare, but the truth is that the man looks sexy like that.

It's the first time the dark lord sees something close to anger on his freckled face. But he supposes it's because the men were hurting those mooncalves.

He shouldn't be there; Newton clearly doesn't need him and Gellert doesn't have the time (or a good reason) to worry about a magizoologist that has ruined his plans twice.

Grimacing at himself for acting foolishly, Gellert stays a little bit more just to see the way Newton's reddish curls turn almost into golden under the sunlight.

He knows there'll be more freckles on that creamy skin by the end of the week; the place is sunny and Newton doesn't seem to mind to spend more time outside.

It's time to go.

***

The smell of roses starts following him everywhere by the beginning of the next month. Gellert narrows his eyes, turning around to see if there's a flower shop nearby, but there are only cafeterias and a book shop.

As something sweet fills his nostrils, he walks down the street to the book shop, using a mirror to confirm his transfiguration spell worked. He can't be seen there as Gellert Grindelwald; Newton's brother will probably be at the book signing and he can't risk it.

Although part of him would like for the magizoologist to recognize him.

One of the women inside must have some sort of perfume made of gardenias or something, because the flowery smell is getting stronger.

Newton is nervous, Gellert can see it and can't help but rolls his eyes at the situation; the man can treat a full grown dragon like a kitten but can't handle a group of people.

He'd like to say he finds it irritating, but it's actually adorable.

As if he knows he's been watched, the magizoologist looks up at him and smiles, those eyes stare directly at Gellert's for a couple of seconds...

Suddenly, Gellert feels something in his chest and he coughs; Newton looks away and Grindelwald convinces himself the man didn't recognize him.

He stays for a couple of minutes.

***

The cough gets worse; Rosier offers to fetch one of the healers, but Gellert is sure there's nothing to worry about.

He decides not to pay too much attention to it until, one night, he coughs petals: there are roses and gardenias all over the bathroom sink in a couple of seconds and Grindelwald looks at himself in the mirror only to confirm his fear in both his eyes:

Hanahaki.

The dark lord is going to die because he gave his heart away without hesitation to a wizard with freckles and no sense of self preservation.

And he's proud enough not to beg for love; he doesn't want Newton to pity him... He wants it to be sincere... He wants everything from him.

It's too late to stop himself from loving him, so Gellert tries not to think about the disease and pretend in front of his followers that nothing is going on.

The problem is that he feels weaker as the days pass; Rosier asks him about it but the dark lord doesn't want to talk to anyone because he's stupid enough to let his heart break.

He's such a fool he worries more about what the sickness means instead of the fact that it's killing him from the inside.

Newton doesn't love him.

Gellert coughs again and the gardenias that get out of his lungs are so pretty it almost seems like they're harmless.

***

He collapses after he gets rid of the last wizard in the room, he's still awake so he sees as Newton gets himself free from the magic chains, takes the wampus and kneels next to him.

Feeling grateful Newton is the last thing he'll see, Grindelwald smiles at him before passing out.

But he doesn't die; he wakes up in Newton's living room. The magizoologist is leaning towards him and touching his forehead so kindly, Gellert would like to kiss his hand.

But he doesn't, he can't.

Instead, he coughs and Newton puts all the petals in a bowl as his face twists with concern.

He knows.

"You should talk to them," the magizoologist mumbles, already working on a potion.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Grindelwald says stubbornly.

"The person you're in love with... I'm sure they'll–"

"No," Gellert shakes his head, trying to fight another cough. "He won't love me. I'm not good enough for him."

Newton looks surprised for a moment, but Grindelwald is not sure if it's because he admitted it was a man or because he said he didn't deserve him.

"The potion I'm going to give you is enough to make you feel a little bit better for a while. At least until I find the ingredients for the other one. If I do it correctly, it could get rid of the disease compl–"

"No," Gellert mumbles, surprising even himself. "I don't want to stop loving him."

Newton's expression softens then; he's looking at him like he's never seen the dark lord before and Grindelwald's heart beats so fast it makes him cough again.

"Take this one at least." Newton insists and Gellert knows can't say 'No' to him.

In the morning he feels better, but just a little; he doesn't cough so many petals now, but he's still weak.

Newton asks him to stay with him for a while and Grindelwald is masochist enough to accept the invitation.

He helps Newton around the house, feeding his creatures and realizes that domestic life is not that bad after all. In fact, he would have loved to spend his days with his magizoologist...

But that's impossible now.

"Perhaps you could write him a letter," Newton mumbles one day, shyly, looking at him with a lovely smile as Grindelwald carries Dougal in his arms so the creature could relax. "So he knows..."

"I don't want him to feel guilty," the dark lord admits, putting the demiguise on the ground and waving a hand, prompting Dougal to go keep an eye on the occamys.

Looking at him with concern, Newton nods but doesn't say another word.

The potion must be stronger than he thought, because Gellert feels better the next day. He has more energy to help Newton inside the case.

"You should let me try with the other potion," the redhead mumbles shyly, surprising him for a moment.

"I can't."

"Is he worth dying?" The magizoologist whispers, almost like he doesn't want the dark lord to hear his question.

Grindelwald turns around then; the moonlight is coming right through the window and into the room, falling all over Newton's back, making him look almost ethereal.

He's never looked more beautiful.

"Yes," he sighs, with all the honesty and sincerity a dark wizard in love like him can feel.

However, the warmth feeling in his chest vanishes as soon as he notices the tears falling from Newton's eyes.

"Are you alright, Liebling?"

"I don't want you to die," the magizoologist admits with a sob and even if he doesn't love him, Gellert can't help but beam when he realizes that his beloved at least cares about him.

"It's okay, Newton, I–" the dark lord stops as soon as he takes a step closer to the magizoologist. He takes a deep breath to...

A deep breath; he hasn't been able to do that since he got sick, even the potion Newton gave him had its limitations...

He takes another deep breath. He doesn't cough, he doesn't feel like his lungs are going to explode anymore... He doesn't smell roses or gardenias...

"Newton?"

The magizoologist looks up, his green eyes are glimmering with something.

"Do you love me?"

The redhead blushes adorably and Gellert wants to pull him closer to him, but he doesn't because he needs to make sure first.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I know you're in love with someone else, but–"

"Liebling," he cuts him off by cupping Newton's face in his hands. "I'm not sick anymore."

Confused, the magizoologist frowns.

"But how? Did you..."

Grindelwald leans to kiss him on the cheek and Newton's blush spreads quickly down his neck.

"Oh... Oh," realization hits him suddenly and a couple of emotions appear on his face at the same time. "Why didn't you tell me? You could've die–"

"Newton, my love. I promise I will let you scold me for this later, but right now I'd like to kiss all the freckles on your body."

Looking back at him with desire, Newt takes a step closer and kisses Grindelwald on the lips.

***

Patreon

[themysteriousphoenix]

Letters From the Past

Newtina Week Day 3: A journey through time. (Newt and Tina go to the past/future or someone from the past/future visits them.)

Now at just over 100 years of age, Newt and Tina receive a surprise. A long-forgotten letter from Queenie, years after her death at the hands of Grindelwald.

TW: Character death mentioned.

Newt climbed the ladder of his old, beaten case, a stack of yellowed correspondence in hand. He was nearly half-way through cleaning it out after decades of research. It was time to move on, pass the case onto the next generation. His son and grandson would be taking over his work soon, though Newt felt a bittersweet clench in his chest whenever he thought about it. He was proud that they had created something wonderful between them. He worked for over eighty years to make the world better for creatures, to educate other wizards about them. He had seen protective orders, ordinances, and treaties written in dozens of countries around the world to improve their living conditions. He was proud of the work he had done. His son had continued at his side and branched off into herbology and potion testing, trying to find alternative ingredients for common potions that would not harm creatures.

Now his grandson, Rolf, had expressed interest in taking on the family business. He was currently traveling, studying creatures, plants, and whatever he fancied at the moment. He called himself a Naturalist because he was fascinated by all things in nature and yearned for the discovery of new things. Newt saw a lot of himself in his grandson. It was when he wrote to let them know that he had met a wonderful girl who he would be bringing home to meet them soon, and that he thought she might be the one, that Tina said it might be time to pass on the case.

Newt knew she was right. There were few things that Tina wasn’t right about, come to think of it, but it was still difficult to think of his case being in the care of another, even if that person was Rolf.

Newt pushed himself up and over the lip of his case, recalling how he used to run up the rickety ladder and out with ease. How fit and young he had been at thirty, though he never realized it. Time had been kind to Newt and Tina, but their bodies were not what they used to be. Years of hard work, injuries, and physical labor had seen to that.

“What do you have there?” Tina asked as she stirred the soup on the stove with her wand, her keen eyes trailing down the page of an old, stained cookbook. She glanced up at her husband as he emerged into their kitchen and placed the pile of parchment onto the table. The light from the window over their large farmhouse sink made her still-dark hair shine. Gray streaked through the soft locks that were currently pulled back away from her face into a plait that hung loosely over her shoulder. Newt still found that there were moments when she would still take his breath away, even seventy-seven years after their first meeting. He was a lucky man.

“Letters mostly,” he replied, his fingers flipping through a few of the pages on the top of the file. “I haven’t seen them in years, most are from the thirties, I’d say.” He sat down with a small grunt and leaned on his elbow, sorting the papers into piles. Tina finished adding ingredients to their dinner and joined him at the table, picking up the top piece of parchment off the pile.

“Oh, Thes,” she said with a sad smile, tracing his name with her fingertip. Newt looked up and nodded, his eyes flashing back to the paper before him.

“I know. I think most of the people these letters are from are dead now. It’s…”

“It’s hard to get old,” Tina said, finishing his thought. Newt nodded, his eyes not leaving the parchment in front of him as he read. They had both lost so much over the years, so many people that they loved and cared about, but they had lived a good life together and he wouldn’t give up the family they had created to change anything in their past. It was still heartbreaking to think that neither of their siblings had lived to see their niece or nephew grow up, even though it had been more than half a century since they had been put to rest.

“Who is that one from?” Tina asked, pulling a faded, lavender envelope from the stack.

“Mr. Worme.” Newt flipped the letter over and read the few lines on the back before placing it gently onto a pile. “It was congratulating me on my seventh edition and updating me on its progress and publication.”

“Oh, goodness. That must have been in thirty-six? Thirty-seven??”

“Thirty-five,” Newt corrected her with a smile, pulling another envelope from the pile. “They all sort of run together. I can’t keep track of the dates myself.”

Tina flipped the unopened envelope in her hand over and she stilled, her eyes growing wide. Newt noticed her change of mood immediately.

“What is it, Love?” he asked. When she didn’t answer, he pulled the envelope from her fingers gently. He flipped it over to see the writing on the front. “Is that…?”

“Queenie.” Tina’s eyes were wide and tears were brimming in their chocolatey depths. Her sister had been a tough topic for years. Tina, though she knew that Queenie had made her own tough choices all those years ago, still carried guilt with her. She still blamed herself for driving her little sister into Grindelwald’s circle, and later, for not being able to save her when she tried to run from it. Her death stung, far more than watching Theseus fall in the final battle, far more than the peaceful death that Jacob had seen at the age of 90 a few years back. Hers had been the hardest by far.

Taking the envelope back, she stared at it for a few more moments. “It’s not opened...and it’s addressed to you.”

Newt shook his head, confused. “I don’t remember that one at all. I would have remembered if she had tried to contact me, it would have stood out. It happened so infrequently that…” Newt stood and walked around the table, lowering himself into the chair at his wife’s side. “Do you want to open it?”

“I- I think so,” Tina mumbled, her gathered tears breaking through her lashes and cascading down her cheek, “I...no. You open it. It’s addressed to you.”

“It’s for you, though. You know it is.” Newt’s hand rested lightly on her shoulder, his fingers passing lightly over her upper back in a practiced motion. “Do you want me to read it to you?”

With a sniff and a nod, Tina passed the letter over to Newt who opened the wax seal carefully and pulled out a letter on matching stationary. He watched as Tina pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes before leaning on the table and watching out the window, listening. Unfolding the letter, Newt looked at the familiar handwriting with a pang of sadness and something akin to a long-held frustration and anger. He cleared his throat and began to read.

February 12, 1934

My dear Newt,

I know that you will be surprised to hear from me. You may not want to, and if that is the case, then I understand. I have done things that make me ashamed beyond explanation, and for that, I am truly sorry. I left Teenie, and I can never go back to the way things were. I did that, and I have regretted it ever since. I thought that what I was doing was right, but over time I have realized that Gellert was not truthful or forthcoming with his goals. Thank you for being the family for her that I could not be. Thank you for loving her the way that she deserves to be loved.

I heard the news of your first child in the Daily Prophet. Congratulations. I am so happy and proud of you both. You will be wonderful parents, she is a lucky little girl. I wish that I was able to meet her, but I fear that it might never happen now. Please give her a kiss from her Auntie Queenie with love.

I am leaving Nurmengard tomorrow. I know that there are several Aurors on watch and correspondence is being checked. I do not know if Tina’s correspondence is among those, they keep any information about Tina a secret from me, even now. I didn’t want to take a chance and have this letter be intercepted. I figured sending a letter by no-maj post to you would be safest.

Please, tell her how sorry I am. I made these choices and I take full blame for my actions. She has been my everything since we were children, and she will continue to be my everything until the day I die. Tell her that I love her. She deserves nothing but the best in life, and that is all I hope for her. Tell her that I would be by her side right now if I could do this all over again. I’m not sure if I will make it to England or not, that is where I am trying to go. If I do, I will be in contact again. If I do not, please forgive me for what I have done. Not only here with Gellert, but to you both. Especially to Tina. I know my sister, and I know that she has probably tried to take responsibility for what happened in Paris. Don’t let her live her life thinking that she was responsible, Newt. She wasn’t. It was my choice that led me here.

I hope that I can tell her these things in person soon. Please be watching for an owl from me in the coming weeks. If the worst should happen, I am sure that you will hear through the Ministry. I am running, not because I am scared, but because I know that Gellert Grindelwald is a manipulator and a liar. I cannot stand with him any longer. I know that I will face prison time when I arrive in England, but I will do what I can to help the resistance working against him.

I am sending love to you both, and I hope that you will allow me to see you soon. I will be in touch. Please also share these sentiments with Jacob as I have no address for him. I don’t know where he is and I will probably never see him again, but I only wish him happiness. I hope he can forgive me someday.

All my love and devotion, always,

Queenie

A pause followed Newt’s reading, interrupted only by Tina’s choked sobs as she clutched her handkerchief to her face. Newt stared at the letter in his hand, the other resting along Tina’s back and trying to soothe her with a light touch. He realized that he was also crying as tears began to blur the words before him. Clearing his throat, he removed his glasses and used his shirt sleeve to dab at his eyes.

Tina sighed and looked up at Newt, her eyes were red and tears still streamed down her face. He set the letter on the table and thumbed the tears away from her slightly-wrinkled face, cupping her cheek lightly as he had done thousands of times before. She leaned into the touch and then her face buried itself into his shoulder as her arms wrapped around his waist. She seemed to be calming now as she took deep, steadying breaths.

“She never made it,” Tina mumbled into Newt’s shoulder, her despair heavy in her voice. Newt closed his eyes and held her close.

“I know.” He shook his head as he laid the letter down and wrapped his other arm around Tina, surrounding her. She continued to cry into his shoulder, her sobs and hiccuping breaths growing farther apart as she calmed. She took deep breaths and Newt played with the wisps of hair that had escaped their confines at the nape of her neck. “I can’t believe you found that letter. I never knew it existed.”

“I know,” she responded, pulling away from him and wiping the remnants of her tears away with her handkerchief. “She sent it by muggle post, it probably got mixed in with the fan mail. The purple envelope saw to that.” They both laughed, softly and awkwardly in the solemn moment, as they thought back on the piles of fan mail that had arrived over the years from witches of all ages and walks of life. Thankfully, it had tapered off after a couple of decades and they were left in peace with only scholarly letters of interest scattered here and there.

“Thank Merlin I never get rid of anything…” Tina snorted and shook her head, dabbing at her eyes once more. She inhaled deeply through her nose and then released her breath through her mouth, her face downcast as she twisted the cloth in her hands absently. “How are you, Love?” Newt asked softly.

“I’m… okay,” Tina whispered without looking up. “Surprised, sad, angry… happy to hear from her… I don’t really know how I feel right now.”

Newt nodded, picking the letter up and looking at it again. “That’s completely understandable. It’s a lot to take in after so long. I wish we had seen it sooner.”

“I wish Jacob had seen it,” Tina continued, and Newt hummed in agreement.

“He forgave her long ago.”

“I know he did. He was so… good.” Tina said with a wistful smile, her eyes closing at the wash of memories. “He deserved closure too, though.”

“Do you feel that this was closure, then?” Newt asked carefully.

“I- kind of? Maybe a little.” Tina said, her voice hoarse after her burst of emotions. “I’m glad to have it. I’m… I’m glad that she ran for the right reasons. I wish, so much, that she would have made it to England. She could have been…”

“She would have been a part of our family again, even if she would have been in prison. She always was in a way.” Newt watched as Tina’s dark eyes rose to meet his, they were bloodshot, and tears still threatened to fall, but they were still as bright as they had ever been. “I always considered her family, even if she was never here.”

“I know you did. You never had to, but you did.” Tina leaned forward and hugged Newt properly. “Thank you.”

“I love you,” he whispered into her hair, and he felt her arms tighten around his back.

“I love you, too.”

Tina pulled away and used the heel of her hand to brush an escaped tear from her cheek. She lightly, gently grabbed the letter and envelope from the table. Folding the letter carefully, she slid it back into its home and tucked it carefully into the pocket of her long, woolen sweater.

“I’m going for a walk,” Tina said, standing slowly from her chair. “I need a bit of fresh air, I think.”

“Right,” Newt agreed. “Do you want company?” He knew the answer already, but he wanted to make sure she was okay after the shock she had just received.

“I don’t think so,” she said, a small forced smile crossing her face, “I think I need a bit of time alone to think.” Newt nodded and Tina bent down to place a light kiss on the top of his head. “Keep an eye on dinner for me?” she asked as she made her way to the door.

“Of course, I’ll take care of things here.” With a nod, Tina slipped through the door and began to walk up the path. Through the window, Newt watched as she paused to pull the lavender letter from her sweater pocket and pull the letter out. She continued walking toward the pasture, her eyes trained on her sister’s final words. He smiled at the sight, thankful that Queenie had been able to pay her sister one final visit with her words from the past, even if it had come years later than intended.

Thanks for the visit, Queenie, he thought, hoping that wherever she was now, that she was finally at peace.

[dalekofchaos]

Giving Draco Malfoy a redemption arc in Deathly Hallows

Long and detailed post that you may be tempted to scroll past, but hear me out: Draco Malfoy would have become an amazing character if he joined Harry, Ron, and Hermione and gotten a full redemption arc throughout the span of Deathly Hallows. Near the end of Half Blood Prince just before his death, Dumbledore tells Malfoy that he knows Malfoy had been planning his assassination all year long and offers him and his family protection from Voldemort. Now what if at that moment, Malfoy had actually lowered his wand and agreed, asking Dumbledore to help him? Dumbledore could assure him that he doesn't have to follow his father's path and that he is his own man who has the freedom to choose who he becomes. The rest of the scene can play out as it does--the Death Eaters barge in, Snape kills Dumbledore, etc, but we get verbal confirmation that Malfoy does not want to be a Death Eater anymore. At the very end of the book, he can go directly to the trio after Dumbledore's funeral, having hidden away from the other Death Eaters during the battle, and ask to join them.

Of course, all three undoubtedly would reject any proposal for help that Malfoy has to offer, but Malfoy could insist that he truly means well. After all, Voldemort now knows that he had failed to kill Dumbledore, so Malfoy knows he would likely be killed if he returned. Now that he's gone, he'd be branded a traitor and would immediately be executed if he was found. He also insists that he can be very useful to them since he has insider knowledge on the Death Eaters that could be precious info for them. As proof of where his true loyalties lie, he and Harry perform an Unbreakable Vow in which Malfoy swears his loyalty to Harry for as long as his family is safe and away from Voldemort and that he and his family will never again turn to Voldemort's side. It would be a really cool image: two bitter rivals--a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, one branded with a scar and the other with a Dark Mark--coming together after six years to put an end to the one who threatens their families (which will play a very key role at the end of the book).

Now here are all the great moments we could get if Malfoy had become a main character for the final book:

Malfoy--like Harry--would have to be disguised as a Weasley cousin and, much to his disgust, would be forced to interact with and be among the family he's mocked all his life. And while the Weasley children would certainly be quite mean to him, I'd imagine Arthur and Molly would share some sympathy for him and treat him quite warmly, and this could be a big moment for Malfoy as he sees the Weasleys show each other such love and compassion that he's never really seen in his own family before.

Malfoy could be the one who gives information on Dolores Umbridge owning Slytherin's locket, which he knows from being with the Death Eaters, and gives the backstory of Gellert Grindelwald, whom he would know presumably from being a Slytherin and the son of Death Eaters.

Malfoy's presence would add more incentive in Ron leaving, perceiving Harry as even trusting Malfoy over himself. During Ron's absence, this could be a great time for Malfoy to start bonding more with Harry and Hermione in his place. We could learn more about his childhood and about his inner psyche, undoubtedly earning him sympathy points from the audience, and during this time he could formally apologize to Hermione for all the years he's been racist towards her.

Malfoy Manor would be the greatest test to his loyalty, with the gang being captured by Snatchers and Malfoy being returned to his parents. While the others are being imprisoned and/or tortured, Malfoy would be offered a chance to start again. If he and his parents bail now and go into hiding, they could leave behind the entire war and stay in safety, and since Malfoy wouldn't be betraying Harry to Voldemort, he still would be safe from the Unbreakable Vow. This would be the biggest milestone in his character arc as he willingly chooses to not flee and instead to help his new friends, playing an integral part in helping the gang escaping the manor. Malfoy learns for the first time in his life to prioritize the needs of others over his own as Draco Malfoy escapes from Malfoy Manor. Oh, the ~symbolism~.

For the entire second half of the book (and all of the Part 2 movie), Malfoy would be a changed person. For the first time, he calls the others by their first names and insists they call him Draco, as he no longer wishes to be associated with the name Malfoy. He's much nicer to others and they, in turn, respect him as well. He helps in Dobby's funeral and is repentant that he mistreated him so poorly before. He's no longer motivated by the desire to be just like his father like he was all his life nor is he motivated by a desire for self-preservation, but now by a new desire to forge his own path and to do the right thing.

Draco helps aid in breaking into Bellatrix's vault (using his Death Eater knowledge). Instead of Harry, Draco would be the one who performs the Imperius curse on the goblin (it makes way more sense for Draco to be able to perform this curse successfully rather than Harry, who's never done it in his life before).

Later during the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco could actively speak to all the Slytherins about his experience as a Death Eater and rally a group of Slytherins to fight to protect Harry, which would be a great chance to emphasize to the audience that not all Slytherins are evil Nazi children.

In the Room of Requirement, Draco is confronted by Crabbe and Goyle and tries to persuade them to join him, but they are too dead-set on their old ways and Draco has to fight his former friends in order to protect his new ones. Unlike the book, which makes it basically an accident that the diadem was destroyed, Draco could be the one who definitively destroys it.

Draco could also be the one who opens the Chamber of Secrets to get the basilisk fang. Sure, it doesn't really make sense that he would know Parseltongue, but it makes a world more sense for a Slytherin to have tried to learn some words of Parseltongue than Ron just happening to know how to open it like it was in the book.

And here's probably my favorite addition to this change: For the final fight between Harry and Voldemort, Draco's redemption arc could better explain the Elder Wand's change in allegiance as well. Instead of the wand switching allegiance from Draco to Harry because Harry yanked it out of his hand in the Malfoy Manor, it could instead be explained that because Draco swore an Unbreakable Vow to fight for Harry, the Elder Wand interpreted this act as Harry becoming Draco's master, and therefore the wand's master as well. After all, the wand values strength and power above all else, and would never choose to stay with a wizard who swears fealty to another. This small change would be a really great thematic moment since the whole series hammers in how Harry and Voldemort are different because Voldemort fails to understand the true power of love and friendship. Harry wins the wand's allegiance not by physically overpowering Draco (like in the book), but by befriending him and accepting his help. Voldemort thinks he's become the Elder Wand's owner through acts of power and violence, but Harry becomes the wand's true owner through an act of loyalty and friendship.

I definitely think the seeds should have been sown far earlier, maybe in the fourth and fifth books. We first need to believe he can change if we are to truly accept him as wanting to change. However, this post was purely limited to the span of the final book.

I also do think that there is a lot of merit to the idea that it's more realistic for someone who grew up privileged and misguided as Draco did to have a harder time going against these beliefs, but to that I say that's basically what we got with Snape. He was a Death Eater through and through, and even when he starts helping Dumbledore it's for purely selfish reasons. It's not until much later in his life that he finally starts to appear to do the good thing for the sake of the greater good and not for his own selfish desires. I think having Malfoy go through a redemption arc as a 17 year old would be a great way of showing how he's managed to avoid becoming Snape. He's been proven wrong about his ideology now as a teenager so that he can learn and grow from it, whereas Snape didn't realize the error of his ways until he was an adult and therefore took much longer to become someone willing to do the right thing.

Source 

[emeraldoodles]

Long Grindeldore Fics

Here’s a list of Grindeldore Fics that are longer. I tried to pick only fics over 10k or are going to be over 10k in the future.

Zwischen Immer und Nie (Between Always and Never) by sudowoodo

Words: 38563

Albus smiled and tossed the manuscript back on the table. "It's the rest I don't agree with. I simply cannot get behind that American rule."

Gellert laughed loudly. "You wish to marry a Muggle, Albus? There is something you're not telling me, yes?"

Albus tipped his head sideways, growing weary of his friend always missing the point. "Oh, I don't know. I feel some sympathy with those who are not allowed to love freely." Gellert's gaze became fixed on the floor before his eyes roamed up to take in Albus' face. Albus placed his hands on his stomach and sighed gently. "I can only imagine what it's like not having the freedom to walk hand in hand with my love, or marry them, or kiss them in the street."

There was a long pause. Then, seriously, "What are you talking about, Albus?"

"I think you know."

-A summer of 1899. Has  a Victorian feel with themes of homophobia. There’s a cry scene that got to me. I like how Ariana and Alberforth are written.-

Hold on by OUATgirl

Words: 26,631

After their famous duel in 1945, Albus Dumbledore decides to give his old friend another chance. Instead of being held in Nurmengard, Gellert Grindelwald will serve his time under the watchful eyes of the new hero of the wizarding world. But Albus cannot plan everything, and things might be more difficult than he anticipated

-I like how Dumbledore was written. Very cute and slow. Writer is currently working on a sequel-

same apartment, roommate's gone by Anonymous

Words: 10,176

After nearly five decades of imprisonment, Gellert Grindelwald was ready to break free.

-Very funny, but it is serious too. Gellert takes over the mind of Lockhart because there ain’t nothing there.-

Defence Professor Wohl by DarthKrande, NeverBeyondRedemption

Words: 54,421

Gilderoy Lockhart landed himself in St Mungo's after his 'Cornish Pixies' class. Where can a headmaster now find another Defence teacher, one who's knowledgeable beyond doubt, willing to face the curse on the position, and available to start in a few days? In Nurmengard, that's where.

-I really like the beginning of this fic, the ending dragged after chapter 18, but that’s probably because the later chapters focus on Harry.-

rummaging for answers in the pages by kittysorceress

Words: 37,620

It is the summer of 1899 and Albus Dumbledore is ready to venture into the great wizarding unknown. Instead, he finds himself at a dead end, keeping house for his siblings in Godric's Hollow. Bored. Lonely. Wasted.

That is, until he meets his equal.

-A collection of Albus's journal entries from the summer of 1899, detailing his adventures and the innermost workings of his mind, from the mundane to the sublime.-

So Many Chances Unseen by The_Marron

Words : 32,043

Dumbledore wants to die, Severus Snape doesn't want him to, and there is also an ex-Dark Lord trying to get his ex back. Maybe.

-This is broken up into 5 parts that total the word count. Is completed. Albus is an ass and I loved it! Slow burn with old men. Loved the ending! Wish this is how the books ended.-

Thirty-Five Owls by Letterblade

Words:11,284

Being a correspondence between Albus P.W.B. Dumbledore, Grand Sorcerer, Supreme Mugwump, etc., and the prisoner Gellert Grindelwald, of some decades in length.

-Gellert and Ablus are penpals? Kinda. It’s sweet, it’s angry and it’s sad. It’s Grindeldore in a nutshell.-

Extreme Incantations by meanwhiletimely

Words: 10,043

Gellert makes a discovery in Albus's bookshelves that results in a revelation.

-Very much smut, but with a plot… no maybe just a point? Dark magic sex during 1899. Bottom Gellert.-

My hands in yours by FrozenBrownie

Words: 21,452

A student of Hogwarts, died in Albus Dumbledore’s arms. What impact this unnecessary death of a child (again) would have on him, on England, on Hogwarts, neither the watching centaurs nor that desperate wizard with his wrists in unconnected metal chains could have foreseen. There was a man, of course, who did, roused in his sleep from the agitation of his husband over a thousand miles away. And thus, a story different from the one that could have come to pass began.

-Albus is shackled and leaves his life to find Gellert.I’m a sucker for fics about magic restriction shackles. Several parts.-

Happily Ever After, Being an Account of a Victorian Fairy Tale in Five Parts by azurish

Words: 10,281

When you’re hunting down the stuff of fairy tales, you shouldn’t be surprised when your own life turns into a fairy tale. In a universe in which Ariana wasn’t killed, Albus and Gellert attempt to track down the Hallows. Gellert knows that Albus is in love with him, and it’s convenient to indulge him – but that’s all there is to it. Right?

-Albus and Gellert go on their journey for the Hallows and have been traveling for a while together. Gellet is a piece of shit and Albus is dumb (stop just putting on unknown jewelry!)-

His Majesty's dragon by FrozenBrownie

Words: 18,369

Used in Open Combat – Dragon Corps in short. Albus’ magical power, ability and control apparently were up to the required standard to be considered for the training program for Aviators. Of course he had had no intention to go into the military whatsoever, but then, Gellert Grindelwald had stumbled into his life. Oh, how they had loved one another, fiercely, fiery, distructive -

-Dragon riders and set in 1759. Is a series. Writer working on 2nd part.-

Let Perpetual Light by tehtarik

Words: 65,726

In the village of Godric's Hollow, the Dumbledore family is falling apart. Kendra Dumbledore is dead under mysterious circumstances, and Albus is the unwilling guardian to his wayward brother Aberforth, and Ariana, their mad sister in the attic. But everything changes with the arrival of Gellert Grindelwald, violently charming juvenile delinquent with an obsession for the fabled Deathly Hallows.

-Ariana is a main character. Summer of 1899.-

Nurmengard by red_camellia

Words: 12,002

After Grindelwald's defeat in 1945 he is put in Nurmengard, unable to move on and haunted by memories of their past Dumbledore begins visiting Grindelwald. "But whenever Dumbledore was there, it was like looking into the Mirror. They both looked at each other and yet, did not see each other."

-A melancholy fic. Albus keeps visiting Nurmengard years after the battle of 1945.-

Shadows Die Twice by Phytine (Taouret)

Words: 68,922

Albus Dumbledore, after having been expelled from Hogwarts, has no choice but to go to Durmstrang in order to finish his education. There, he meets a very charming boy, Gellert Grindelwald and, despite the warnings, decides to befriend him.

What Albus doesn’t know is that Durmstrang is the Devil’s territory. Before he can understand what is happening, he gets caught in a dangerous web. The unconscious prey has fallen.

But there is one thing that Grindelwald hasn’t taken into account: Dumbledore is no man to be taken down easily and, the monster is never far away in a wounded heart.

-Do you want a really fuck up Albus and just as equally fucked up Gellert? This is your fic. Warning, includes rape, abusive relationship, blood fetish, chocking. Not completed.-

Phoenix Tears by PrincessElectra

Words: 46,739

The summer of 1899 ends with less destruction and heartbreak, but love is not a victory march and the darkness is still a seductive temptress. Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald.

“It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves. I refuse to accept that there is any future where the world is better place with us apart.”

-Gellert decides to stay with Albus but he can’t quite give up on his old goals Lots of fluff.-

liminality by verivala

Words: 7,981

Instead of killing Albus, Gellert imprisons him. Neither of them have a good time.

Grindelwald Wins AU

-Still being written. Gellert is trying to cage Albus and Albus is trying to escape, if only mentally. It does have darker themes like mind control, magic restrict, twisted love.-

The Trial of Albus Dumbledore by Aurora_xx

Words: 51,613

Albus Dumbledore has to attend a disciplinary hearing for withholding invaluable information about Gellert Grindelwald, deliberate misdirection and performing a blood pact with the person who currently represents the biggest threat to the wizard community.

Unknowingly, he takes Veritaserum before.

-Albus is held trial and forced to speak the whole truth.-

The Glass House by Skurf, TheMoonGuardian (moonchampion)

Words: 24,327

Brightest student of Hogwarts's 1899 graduating class, Albus Dumbledore was about to set off to travel the world. He was going to revolutionize the Wizarding World. Then Ariana Dumbledore killed her mother in a fit of uncontrollable magic, and he was sent back home to be her caretaker.

He was 18, resentful, and utterly miserable. Until Bathilda Bagshot introduced him to her alluring nephew, Gellert Grindelwald.

(The one where Ariana doesn't die, and the boys take her along on their quest to find the Elder Wand.)

-I almost feel bad putting this on the list, because it looks to forever be incomplete. But the bantering between Albus and Gellert is just too enjoyable not to include.-

Never Too Careful by DrSalazar2U

Words: 29,694

"So that, when my mother died, and I was left the responsibility of a damaged sister and a wayward brother, I returned to my village in anger and bitterness. Trapped and wasted, I thought! And then, of course,

he came..." 

Gellert presents a life changing opportunity, but Albus quickly learns that when it comes to eternal glory, one can never be too careful.

-Lot of smut, but there is still a plot. But lots of summer sex. I like how Ariana and Abeforth are written.-

[thorne93]

The Softest Fire (Part 16)

Prompt: Rosaline Vaughan had it all: fame, money, power, glory, a high status job. Until, one day, she woke up, and realized something was missing from her life.

Word Count: 3305

Warnings: aaaannngst, heartbreak

Notes: First Fantastic Beast fic! I could NOT have done this at all without @arrow-guy. They have created a counterpart to this fic, writing it from Nora Vaughan’s perspective (Rosaline’s cousin/adopted sister). Fic aesthetic done by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​

Newt, Theseus, Nora, and Dumbledore entered the room. Newt stood beside Nora as she sat across from me, and Theseus stood beside Dumbledore when he sat. 

I peered up at them, my usual bite giving way to general curiosity. 

“What’s going on?” I asked, no threat or malice in my voice. 

“We… We have something we need to tell you,” Nora started, gesturing slightly to Dumbledore. 

“What could it possibly be?” I questioned, wondering why it took four of the best wizards I knew to address it. 

“Rosaline,” Dumbledore began, huffing out a breath, “you’ve been cursed.” 

My eyebrow twitched up. “Cursed?” 

Everyone nodded. 

“It appears Grindelwald put you under a series of complex curses. He toyed with memories, he put you under the Imperius curse, along with other loyalty spells and charms. The love you feel for him, the loyalty, it’s all a farce.” 

I peered at them, my gaze saying nothing. 

“I…” Was all I could get out. I wanted to argue, to say he was my true love, but something in me felt they weren’t lying. My memories felt far too fuzzy for me to confirm nor deny their claim. With sorrow in my tone, I asked, “So what now? I’m imprisoned?” 

“Absolutely not. We’re going to work to get the curses out of you. So long as you don’t fight us, it should be relatively easy and painless. We have to be careful not to destroy your mind in the process. I’d like to give you your memories back.” 

I nodded gently. “Whatever you think is best,” I stated, feeling violated and exposed. “Let’s just get this over.”

“I’m surprised you aren’t fighting us more,” Theseus coolly remarked. 

“Either you’re wrong and this is a waste of our time, or you’re right and I won’t want to be cursed any more. It’s all the same to me.” 

Everyone nodded, leaving the room, except Newt. He held onto the door and turned back to me and said, “We’ll fix this, Rosaline. Everything will be okay.” 

All I could do was nod and smile faintly at him. I truly hoped he was right. 

---------------------------

For the next few weeks, I felt like a lab rat. Sometimes Dumbledore visited me, sometimes Nora did, sometimes it was an auror I’d never met before. Other times, it was two or more. They stuck their wands against my temple and they worked on me for hours at a time. 

As the first spells fell away, my hatred and anger melted away. I no longer said hateful things to anyone who came in. I didn’t give anyone extra grief. I didn’t demand my wand. My memories were still fuzzy and I still missed Gellert though, but the desire to be right next to him had fizzled.

At first it was rather easy, not uncomfortable, but I suppose it was the easy spells out first, because everything that followed was hell. After the first six or so spells, they got worse. 

A blood curdling scream erupted in my holding cell. Nora shut her eyes, trying to ignore how it pierced her ears.

“Fucking hell, Rosaline!” she admonished, pulling her wand away, breathing heavily. 

I glared at her. “It hurts,” I informed with malice. “Sorry, I’ll  try to keep my screams of agony down for you.”

“Thank you,” she said, a small smile playing at her lips, and despite myself, one came to mine too before we were laughing together. A fit of giggles completely took us over as I laid on my cot and she leaned on the edge. Finally, we gathered our wits and wiped our eyes of happy tears. 

“Are you done for the day?”

“Not nearly, but I’m exhausted trying to pull this spell from you. I need to get back to the bookstore and you need rest. Someone will be back tomorrow to try again.” 

I nodded while she stood and started to leave. She spun to face me. 

“Thank you, for being so cooperative,” she said with a solemn smile. 

“My pleasure, Nora.” 

And so, the spells continued to get ripped from my mind. Feeling as if my brain was on fire and being axed simultaneously. The team worked and worked until suddenly, the ties to Grindelwald fell away nearly entirely. I no longer wanted to be his wife, be near him, or help him. 

I pulled off my engagement ring and sat it on the table one day. Nora was pleasantly surprised to see that, I believe. 

“What’s that?” she asked as she walked in, sitting across from me, curious. She picked it up. “Ah, your engagement ring. Wait, does this mean...?” 

I peered at her, my thoughts unsure. “I don’t know. I don’t know what it means. I just... I feel like if Grindelwald was in this room, I would obey him, but I have no desire to be near him. How is that possible? I still remember being in love with him? I still…” I trailed off. “My mind is so muddled.” 

Nora gazed at me sympathetically, reaching across and squeezing my hand. “We’ll get there. All that’s left is the Imperius curse. Then you’re free.”

“One curse? The imperius?” I frowned, thinking. “That’s what’s holding me?” 

She nodded. “Yes. I think that’s why you still feel obedient to him.” 

“I wish I could just… shake this last spell lose. This is ridiculous,” I remarked, crossing my arms. “I should be a match for Grindelwald.” 

Nora smirked. “You are, but the Imperius curse is powerful, so is he. You’ve also been under its influence for months. It’ll take a lot to bring you out of this, Little Rose.”

Her words made me frown for half a second. I was about to ask her what she called me, but somewhere in the recess of my mind, I could hear Aunt Cecelia saying that to me when I was five. They were chasing me in the backyard, I had a hold of Nora’s wand, and I was running with it. Nora was laughing hysterically from the patio while Uncle Joshua smiled at me. 

That was all it took for the floodgates to open. Every memory Grindelwald had blurred and distorted restored to their previous clarity. Nora was never unkind to me. Sometimes we didn’t see eye to eye, and our idea of fashion differed wildly, but she was an amazing cousin. She had my back and I had hers. 

Uncle Joshua and Aunt Cecelia were nothing but loving to me, raising me as their own, buying me the finest goods for Hogwarts. They checked in on me regularly and we always spent Christmas together, happily. 

And Newt… Oh god… All the love hit me like a wrecking ball. The patience, the compassion, the care, the kindness, the courage. I fell in love with Newt for everything Grindelwald wasn’t. 

“Oh god,” I suddenly gasped, and Nora peered at me. 

“What is it?” 

“I… loved Newt.” 

The more the memories came in, the harder it was for me to breathe. 

Her eyes assessed me, she wasn’t sure what was happening. 

“You were always kind to me. You-- Oh my god, oh my god,” I gasped, my hands flying to my face. Horror painted my expression. “Oh god, Nora, what have I done?” Sobs came before I even realized it. I didn’t even know why I was crying, to be honest. 

Within a second she was out of her seat, wrapping her arms around me in a comforting hug.

“Shh, it’s alright. You remember, don’t you?”

I nodded, still sobbing violently. My breathing was rough, I couldn’t catch my breath. “I remember it all. I didn’t join Grindelwald. I went in there to end him. He--He cursed me!” I cried out. “I lived with him! I was going to marry him and be happy about it! Nora… I gave him everything! He stole my mind, my memories, my…” I stopped, saying the words was too much. “How could he do that to me? How could I let him do that to me? The things I did for him. I--”

She continued to stroke my hair, shushing me, trying to comfort me but I just kept babbling. 

“I told you awful things. I told Newt awful things.” 

“You weren’t yourself, we know that,” she assured.

“I did everything he said, without question, without fail….”

“You had no choice.”

“He exploited me. Newt broke my heart and that son of a bitch turned that against me.” My hands clenched into fists. Sorrow gave way to raging fire. 

The door opened, revealing Newt, and the sight of him made my chest nearly implode and a harder sob rocked my body again. Once he saw my reaction, he simply said, “My apologies,” and left. 

-----------------------

Nora had told everyone to give me space. She informed them that I was curse free and had no desire to see Grindelwald. She was reluctant to give me my wand back and I didn’t blame her. She said that Theseus and his team would probably be in the next day to question me on what I could give them about Grindelwald. I told her I would be ready for it. 

Night had fallen, but the room was brightly lit from a full moon. 

Thoughts had consumed my mind ever since the last spell broke. I relived old memories, happy to remember the good times, but more than anything, I wept. Tears flowed down my face as I lied, staring, thinking about how badly it must’ve hurt Nora while I was gone. No doubt she searched for me day and night. And Newt, left to take care of all of his animals, and his heart undoubtedly hurting from losing Leta. Theseus’s pain I couldn’t even begin to imagine. He and I were never close, nor did I suspect we ever would be, but he didn’t deserve to have his fiance killed in front of his very eyes. And what I said to him… I was cruel. 

To top it all off, I joined the man who caused pain to those I love. I joined the man who tormented Dumbledore, a man who I held dear to my heart as friend and mentor. I let him twist my mind. For Merlin’s sake, he ordered me to kill my cousin and the love of my life and I complied without hesitation. He inflicted unspeakable pain to Newt and I stood by and watched. 

What kind of a monster lived inside me?

The door to my holding room creaked open. My gaze shifted from the window to the door, breaking my thoughts from hating myself. When I saw who my visitor was, my chest constricted all over again and tears threatened to flow.

“Rosaline?” Newt said quietly into the dark, his silhouette lit by the light in the hall. 

“Yes?” I croaked out.

“I wanted to check on you. Nora said you broke to the last curse.” 

“Mhm,” was all I could say. 

He came in, shutting the door behind him. “May I sit?”

“Sure,” I said, failing to keep the tears at bay. 

He grabbed a chair and pulled it close to my cot. 

“How are you doing?” he asked softly once he got settled. 

“I--Not well,” I admitted. 

“I guess that’s to be expected. I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.” 

Silence fell between us, I wasn’t sure what to say to him, or what he wanted me to say. 

“So what do you remember?”

“Everything,” I whispered before the first sob broke from me and Newt immediately left his chair to sit on my cot, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder. “I remember falling in love with you. I remember working alongside you. I remember being best friends with Nora. I remember walking into those blue flames to kill that son of a bitch and now…. He took me because I’m powerful. He wanted me for my magic, nothing else. He took how I always felt like second best and twisted that. Do you know how demented that feels? To have the memories in my head. Happy memories of Grindelwald?” 

“I’m sure it’s very hard.”

“The worst part is he said everything right, he did everything right. All in all, he was never cruel to me, other than cursing me. All I’d wanted from you, he had done for me. He put me on a pedestal, gave me power, worshipped me. All so I would be his obedient little pet.”

I shook my head, wiping my tears as I laughed without humor. “All my life, I’ve felt like I was never good enough. Nora always had her friends, making them everywhere she went. At school, every professor seemed to admire my wit but, I think in all reality only Dumbledore liked me. Leta Lestrange, well, you always had a soft spot for her and she was nothing but a troublemaker. Not to mention Tina. At the Ministry, they liked my power, but I wasn’t anyone’s friend. Do you know what I mean?” I asked, peering at him. “People like me, people respect me, but no one notices if I don’t show up to the party.” 

“I do,” he quietly said.

Again, I laughed. “Newt… You love Tina. I did everything I could for you and you still fell for Tina. I thought I did everything right. Speaking of, how are you and Tina?” I didn’t really want to know, but I was trying to be kind. The idea of them together sent me reeling, but I didn’t have any room to request him to be mine.

Newt’s gaze dropped as his hand fell from my shoulder. 

“I… We aren’t…”

A perplexed frown found my face. “Together?” I finished.

He nodded meekly.

“What ever for?” I demanded. “You tormented me for over a year with pining for her and yet you are still not with her?” 

“She’s not the one I want to be with,” he breathed, his eyes looking at me, his gaze pointed. 

My face and heart betrayed me. The tiniest of grins tugged at the corner of my lips, while my heart fluttered at his words and his expression. A feeling of relief washed through me, finally, I knew he cared for me too, maybe even loved me. 

This is all you’ve ever wanted, this is what you wanted to hear right? So why does it hurt so bad? Maybe because you know he deserves better. He shouldn’t love you. He can’t love you. It would only end up getting him hurt. 

I peered at him with a sudden panic in my chest. I knew what I had to do, what I had to say. I had to let him go. I had to make him see that being with anyone elsas the best option for him. 

“Oh, Newt… no,” I objected softly. “You don’t want to be with someone like me. I’m not good for you. I don’t deserve you, Tina does.” 

“I don’t give a damn who deserves me,” he slightly snapped. “I know the pain of watching the person I love love someone else.”

“Welcome to the club.” I wanted to roll my eyes. Chagrin wrapped around me like a familiar cocoon. The pain he felt wasn’t news to me, he should be more sympathetic of-- And then it hit me. 

He just said he loved me, for the first time. I never knew he loved me. I suspected he might care, and I hoped for love… But to have him admit it… My heart softened more at that confession.

“Rosaline,” he said as he turned more towards me, taking my hand in his, “watching you love him, hearing about your engagement to him, that nearly killed me. It would have destroyed me to see you with anyone but me, but to know it was Grindelwald… You’re so pure and loving and he’s so vile and awful. I worried I had pushed you into his arms. I thought it was my fault for being so stupid for not telling you I loved you back at Flamel’s.” 

I pressed my lips together as I listened. “You didn’t do anything,” I assured. “I didn’t choose him. But you do deserve someone better. When I first started working with you, I told you I wanted to help the world, make a living at doing something kind and productive, not sitting on my behind  making legislative decisions.” I paused, biting my lip. “But the truth is… I think I left because deep down I knew I was capable of the things Grindelwald had me do.”

“Rosaline, no--”

I held up a hand to stop him. “I’m not being dramatic, Newt. I’m serious. I worried that if I came into power, some other part of me would take over. I worried I’d be corrupted, coerced, or even become terrible all on my own. Grindelwald didn’t make me powerful, I was already that. He didn’t do anything but make me loyal to him. The hurting, the rage, the loneliness, that was all there, he just twisted it to use it as a tool.” 

“I don’t believe that. You’re good. I’ve seen you. You care about every living thing with all your heart.”

“I do,” I agreed, my gaze falling. “But what if that changed? I like power, Newt, I’m not going to pretend I don’t. I like respect. I like knowing I’m the most powerful person in the room.”

“We all know that,” he assured with a soft smile. 

“But what scares me more, is what kind of person I became with Grindelwald is who I am deep down. What if that’s really who I am?” 

“If you really thought that, you wouldn’t have let us lift the curses. You would be running back to him right now.” 

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I know I did unspeakable things, and I should’ve been strong enough and smart enough to get out of it, and I didn’t. What does that say about me? What kind of evil lives inside me?” 

He took his hand and swept my blonde locks behind my ear. “Rosaline Vaughan, if anyone in this world is deserving of love, it’s you. Damn Grindelwald. He did nothing more than manipulate your memories and emotions. You are a good person, to your core.” 

“I’m not so sure any more.” 

“Maybe you don’t see it, but I do, Nora does, Dumbledore does. I know you may think you had to fight to be appreciated, but I assure you, Nora did nothing but fret over finding you. You are her world. All the students envied you at Hogwarts, believe me, I know because I was one. And I think the professors were frustrated that they couldn’t teach you anything new,” he teased, a smile touching both of our lips. “Theseus always spoke highly of you while you worked at the Ministry. It is a workplace and favoritism would be frowned upon. As much as I hated it, and I’m sure you do too, the most powerful Dark Wizard in history wanted you to be his bride. Regardless of why, he chose you out of everyone. He thought your power, over anyone else’s, would be his best shot at ruling the wizarding world. In an odd way, it’s a big compliment.”

I smiled slightly. 

“Friends are overrated anyway, look how many I have,” he remarked.

This made me laugh, for the first time in I had no idea how long. 

“This is true, and you’re a remarkable man.” 

He gazed down at me with kind adoration. “I’m glad you think so.” 

“Thank you, Newt. I needed to hear that.” 

He nodded, patting my hand. “I’ll let you rest now.”

“Goodnight,” I said as he got up to leave.

“G’night, Rosaline.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[fallen-imagine-angel]

Dedicated Rebel (Newt Scamander x Reader)

Notes: Hey guys, this is one of my 700 followers celebration fics! I’m super stoked to have 700 of you guys that liked my fics so much that you decided to follow me. I hope to never let any of you down! And, as always, my asks/DMs/submit box/tag list is always open so feel free to drop in anytime :)

Summary: You’re Gellert Grindelwald’s notorious right-hand woman, so what happens when you get taken in by MACUSA and get interrogated by one of the most handsome men you’ve ever met?

Dedicated Rebel

Newt Scamander x Reader

Requested?: Yes, by @deanismymom : “Could you do a angst/fluff fic for Meet x reader? If not that's cool”

Word Count: 2,621

Warnings: there is a torture scene in this!!! If that will trigger you, please do not read at least that portion. I will put a warning when it is about to start and when it is over. You know yourself better than I do and if you know that reading it will harm you in any way, please refrain from reading it. Otherwise, angst and fluff.

You sit in the small, dark cell that you were thrown in days ago. Not a single person has come through the door since, not even to give you food. All you’ve done is stare at the floor.

The reason you’re here is an interesting one. You’ve been Gellert Grindelwald’s right-hand woman for years now and MACUSA had yet to track you down...until recently, that is.

The metal door squeaks open and a ray of light shines on your foot. You slowly raise your head to meet the eyes of a handsome stranger.

“Hi. I’m Newt.” The man introduces himself. He flicks his wand and the cell immediately lights up so you can see each other better. You do your best not to wince at the light, but you do anyway.

Now you get a good look at the stranger, Newt. He’s got beautiful eyes and the most luscious hair you’ve ever laid eyes on. An idea pops up in your head.

“Newt, huh? Nice to meet you, I’m (Y/n).” You grin at him, looking up through your eyelashes. Newt’s eyes go wide and he stutters for an answer, looking anywhere but at you.

He must be the shy type. That puts a damper on your plan.

“Hi…(Y/n). I’ve been sent here to interrogate you.” He clears his throat and summons a chair to sit across from you. You can tell he’s nervous, only fueling your ego.

“I’ve been known to not give up information while being tortured. What makes you think this time will be any different?” You hum, staring intently at him. His eyes go wide.

“Torture? What? No, I’m just here to talk to you.” Newt stammers, completely shocked by the idea of torturing you. However, the fact that he’s just here to talk shocks you.

“So...you’re not going to slowly hurt me until I give you the whereabouts of Grindelwald?” You narrow your eyes. You do have one trick up your sleeve left.

“Heavens, no. I mean, I’m here to get under your skin and get the information of his whereabouts but not by torture.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. You click your tongue mischievously.

“You think your brother thinks you can annoy the information out of me.” You give him a sly smile.

“How did you-- you’re a legilimens?” Newt stands up abruptly, his coat flowing behind him.

“Of course. But you wouldn’t know, your dear brother Theseus didn’t tell you that.” You lean back in your chair, ignoring the painful shackles digging into your wrists and ankles.

“Don’t talk about my brother.” He huffs, avoiding your gaze. You’re from Hogwarts, so the British accent of Newt’s didn’t throw off your legilimens skill.

“Bad history with him, huh?”

“I said stop. Stop reading my mind.” 

“Oh, expelled from Hogwarts? My, my, dear Newt. Not even I got expelled from Hogwarts, and look where I am now. We’re on opposite sides of the table, you and I.” You lean forward again.

“There’s no table here.” Newt frowns slightly. You sigh.

“Metaphorically speaking.” Your shoulders drop. You give up on your original plan to trick him into falling in love with you and letting you go, he’s obviously not buying it.

“Um...let’s get back to the interrogation?” He sits down again and pulls out a notepad and quill. You look at him skeptically.

“Where is Grindelwald?” He asks, straight to the point. You deadpan.

“Not happening, Mr. Scamander.” You roll your eyes.

“I told you to stop reading my mind.” He closes his notepad and you can tell he’s getting frustrated. You smirk.

“Also not happening. You’re fun to toy with.”

“And you are starting to be insufferable.”

“That’s the plan.”

“What if I just left you in here, hm? Left you to...to rot away in your prison cell and no one ever came in here unless you needed food.” Newt crosses his arms. You narrow your eyes at him and give him a light smile.

“You wouldn’t do that.” You lean forward, seeing him get more uncomfortable the closer you get to him. He doesn’t move away, though.

“And how do you know I wouldn’t?” He tries to keep his mind blocked from you, only stopping you slightly. You don’t need to read his mind to know this, though.

“Because you’re too nice. You don’t think I’m dangerous. You think I’m just a lost, misguided soul who sought shelter under Grindelwald.” You sit back in your chair again as Newt’s eyes drop to his feet.

“I want to give you a chance at a better life beyond these bars, beyond a life of crime.” Newt murmurs, giving you a chance to see his soft side a little bit. 

For a second, you swear you feel your heart beat a little faster.

“I’m not a child, Scamander. I’m the same age as you.” You growl, determined not to let the handsome wizard fool you.

“I’m not treating you as a child. I’m merely trying to get you to cooperate so that I can help you. Please, let me help you.” Newt looks up at you and you stare deep into his eyes. You go still.

“I don’t need your help.” You whisper. With this, Newt gets up, grabbing his notepad and tucking his wand away.

“We’re done for today. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He frowns and walks out of the room, leaving you to ponder alone in darkness again.

Could he really help you?

Almost a month has gone by, to no avail. You still refused to give up any information while Newt refused to stop pestering you. He always used the same tactic, a promise of help. However, as the days passed, you felt yourself longing for that help more and more. You can’t let him get to you, though, because then he’ll just throw you in a cell and you’ll be a traitor to your boss and a criminal.

“(Y/n), I’m not lying to you. If you...if you just tell me where Grindelwald is, please, I can get you out of here.” Newt promises you, this time taking your shackled hand into his own. You go still as you feel your heartbeat again.

This had gone on a few times, glancing too long at each other or an odd brush of the hand. He’s now holding your hand, stroking the back of it softly with his thumb.

“I can’t trust anyone but myself and Grindelwald.” 

And you, you want to add. But you can’t, because then he would insist on getting the information again. Instead, you take your hand out of his, desperately wishing for his touch again. Then it hits you, you’re falling into his trap. You’ve fallen in love with this man without even realizing it. Now he has a power over you that he doesn’t even know he has yet.

All because you couldn’t trick him first.

“You can trust me, (Y/n)! Read my mind, right now.” He frustratedly runs a hand through his hair and sits down in front of you, grasping onto your hand again. You hear his thoughts loud and clear.

I love you.

You push his hand away and bite your lip. He can’t be telling the truth. It’s all part of his tactic to get your information.

“Stop!” You strain against your shackles, wanting to run away from this place. Wanting to run away from him, the only man who has ever made you feel wanted. This past month has been one of dreams and of nightmares. The dream is obviously Newt, but the nightmare is the inner turmoil you have because of him.

You want to go with him, to believe that if you tell him the truth the two of you can have a life together, but you know that it’s a foolish belief. You won’t get anywhere except transferred to another prison, probably Azkaban.

“(Y/n), listen to me…it’s the truth.” Newt murmurs in his calming voice that he uses with his animals. Yes, he told you all about his animals. Lately, your interrogation sessions had felt more like conversations than him trying to get information about Grindelwald.

That’s part of the trap, though.

“I don’t want to hear your truth, then!” You scream, pushing him away from you. You watch as he falls to the ground. You see the hurt in his eyes as he stands up and brushes the dust off of his coat.

He walks away and you feel like you can momentarily breathe again.

“Newton, this is a disaster. You’re getting nowhere with her. Let one of my men deal with her.” Theseus falls in step with his younger brother. 

“And do what, torture her? Absolutely not! I won’t let it happen.” Newt shakes his head profusely, walking faster to get rid of his brother. It doesn’t work.

“No, you know what? You’re not in charge of this interrogation, I am! Tomorrow, I’m sending one of my men in instead of you and that’s final.” Theseus briskly walks away before Newt can protest.

Newt’s face drains of color as he realizes what that means.

(This is the torture scene - do NOT read if it will trigger you)

The next day, you’re sitting in your cell, waiting for Newt to arrive. You’re leaning back and your eyes are closed, a picture of serene grace.

You hear the cell door open and a smile appears on your face.

“Sorry about our argument yesterday, Newt. I didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand.” Your smile turns cheeky and you open one eye, gazing at a new, burly man who is definitely not your Newt.

“I’m here for your interrogation today.” The man pulls out his wand. Your expression goes blank, showing no emotion to the man as he swirls the tip of the wand in the air.

“I guess Newt got sick of me, huh?”

“Crucio.” The man flicks his wand at you and you break into screams. After the first round is done, you’re left breathing heavily and sweating. You blow a strand of hair out of your face and let out a short laugh.

“Where is Grindelwald?” The man demands, grabbing a fistful of your hair.

“Is that all you’ve got?” You smirk.

“Sectumsempra.” He seems to be getting more into the interrogation, a smiling working its way onto his face. You hold in your screams as what feels like an invisible sword slashes through your flesh. Finally, you can’t take it anymore and let out an excruciatingly painful scream. Once it’s over you bare your teeth at the man.

“I would’ve thought that they wouldn’t let someone from MACUSA use one of the forbidden spells. It is illegal, after all.”

“They won’t know if you’re dead by the time I’m finished. Crucio.” The man does it again and you writhe in pain, still shackled to a metal chair. You feel yourself starting to become drained.

“Wow, that one kinda hurt, not gonna lie.” You grunt, trying to keep it together.

This goes on for a few hours until you pass out, still no information given.

(Torture scene over)

“I couldn’t get anything out of her, boss.” Newt watches the burly man walk out of your cell, only catching a glimpse of you inside. All he knows is that he saw blood.

“What’s her condition?” Theseus asks, slightly concerned.

“She’ll be fine, I didn’t use anything too harsh on her, just what I thought was enough to get it out of her. Apparently, I was wrong.” The man huffs and walks off.

“Can I see her, please?” Newt asks his brother, running to the cell door.

“No, why would you want to?” Theseus narrows his eyes at his brother.

“I...I want to make sure she’s okay.” He mumbles.

“I can’t believe you. Fine, go see her.” Theseus rolls his eyes, knowing the truth behind his brother’s words.

In a dash, Newt’s opening the door and walking into your cell. He sees you in the center of the room, sitting still in your chair.

“(Y/n)?” He rushes over to you, grabbing your face in his hands. Your head lolls to the side, your eyes closed. Newt goes numb as he quickly uses magic to undo your shackles and gather you into his arms. Your arm hangs loosely over the side.

“Theseus, she’s not okay. We need to get her to the infirmary now.” Newt gives his brother a pleading look. Theseus takes in your condition and his eyes widen.

“He lied to me. Come on, let’s go.” Theseus quickly leads Newt to the infirmary.

“I’m sorry sirs, you’re not allowed to be in here as we heal her. It would distract our nurses. You can stay in the hall and we’ll get you when she’s resting.” A nurse stops the two of them. Newt nervously fiddles with his hands.

“She’s going to be okay, I swear.” Theseus sets a calming hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“It’s your fault. You were the one that insisted to have her tortured!” Tears prick at Newt’s eyes as he turns his face to stare at his brother.

“I made a mistake. She would’ve come around eventually to you, I just didn’t want to wait any longer. I’m sorry.” Theseus pulls his brother into a hug. Newt doesn’t return the hug, just cries into his brother’s shoulder.

Your eyes flutter open to reveal an almost all-white room.

“Oh god, am I in heaven?” You mutter, blinking a few times before being able to open your eyes fully. You try to move your hand but it feels like there’s a ton of bricks on top of them. You feel pressure on your hand and look down to see Newt sitting next to your bed, asleep, and holding your hand.

Your heart flutters as he starts to stir. You squeeze his hand and give him a small smile as he comes to.

“(Y/n)--” He gasps, tears coming forth.

“Hey, Newt.” You chuckle, trying not to wince from the pain your laugh caused.

“I thought you were dead. You were out for an entire day.” He admits.

“And I thought you hated me.” You give him your signature cheeky smile.

“I could never hate you.” He sets another hand on top of yours. You blush.

“I believe you now.” You bite your lip. After Newt left you in your cell the last time, you kept thinking about what you read in his mind, that he loves you. You had finally accepted it by the time the other man had come in, you just didn’t get the chance to tell Newt until now.

“You do?” He seems relieved, a smile appearing on his face instead of worry. You nod the best you can and smile back.

“I love you too, I just couldn’t admit it two days ago. I’m sorry.” You whisper. Newt leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I let the other guy get to you, I should’ve known better. It was my fault.” He whispers against your forehead before he pulls away.

“It’s not your fault. Besides, you get to now successfully say that you got the information out of me without torturing me.” You grin cheekily at him and whisper Grindelwald’s whereabouts into his ear.

“I never would have expected that. Thank you, (Y/n). I love you and I will never let anything bad happen to you ever again.” He promises, lacing your fingers together.

“Get over here and kiss me.”

“I can’t argue with that, I guess.”

He leans forward again and presses his lips to yours. A sense of peace washes over you and you know you’ve found the place you truly belong.

And now that you’ve found him, you will fight to the ends of the earth to keep him.

Tag List: @witchyandkin @hufflepuffnewtismyjam @deanismymom @margot-black @onceuponagleepottermindlock @belloangelus

[bloodtroth]

Fictober Day 6

A/N: Since I couldn’t come up with anything for today’s prompt, I went back to the prompt that I missed on day 1. This is very silly and lighthearted, but you can't convince me Dumbledore wouldn't enjoy harmless pranks xd

Prompt: “It will be fun, trust me.”

Fandom: Harry Potter/Fantastic Beasts

Ship: Grindeldore

Tags: Pranks, Poor Aberforth, Bastards in Love, Humour

“It will be fun, Albus, trust me.”

Albus looked doubtfully at Gellert’s outstretched hand. When he did not immediately take it, Gellert wiggled his fingers impatiently. Resigned, Albus grasped his hand but made no move to stand up.

“I don’t know, Gellert,” he sighed, “he is already mad enough at me as it is.”

Huffing, Gellert pulled him up, and Albus had no choice but to stand unless he wanted to topple both of them over.

“Exactly. And what for may I ask?” Gellert asked, his hands moving to Albus’ hair to pick out a stray leaf. “Not spending enough time in that dreadful house? He is much more suited for taking care of Ariana than you are.” As Albus opened his mouth to protest, Gellert placed a finger on his lips, silencing him. “And you both know it.”

Albus closed his mouth; it was the truth after all.

Smiling gently, Gellert swept a stray lock of hair behind Albus’ ear. “What we are doing is much more important,” he said, his voice reassuring, “Our plans are much more important, and they will improve Ariana’s life much more than Aberforth ever could.”

“I know,” Albus sighed, his frustration seeping into his voice, “I just wish that he could see that.”

“He will, eventually”, Gellert said, placing a kiss on Albus’ cheek. “Even he can’t be that goblin-headed.”

Albus’ lips twitched, but he had some doubts that were true; Aberforth had developed goblin-headedness into an art form.

“Now, come,” Gellert commanded, tugging Albus to move, “He will go to feed his goats in a few minutes.”

            ….....................................................................................................

As much as he had protested at first, Albus could not help the secret thrill he felt as they laced the goat feed with the potion Gellert had stored in his pocket. By the time Gellert was tugging him to hide behind the bushes surrounding the goat pen, Albus was smiling freely.

They had just knelt out of sight when Aberforth appeared on the path leading to the pen. Picking up the bucket with the food they had just tampered with, he opened the gate. Albus’ felt anticipation building inside of him as the goats ate the food Aberforth was feeding them. It took only a couple of seconds before the first goat burst out into a cloud of sparkles, leaving behind a small multi-coloured chick. Aberforth let out an enraged shout as the rest of the goats were transformed as well, the multi-coloured sparkles they had released decorating the top of his head and catching on to his clothes.

They burst out into silent laughter at the enraged look upon Aberforth’s face. Their laughter was cut off soon, though, as Aberforth looked into the direction of the bush and stopped, squinting his eyes.

“Oh dear, I think he spotted us,” Albus whispered, laughter colouring his voice.

“Grindelwald!” Aberforth shouted, his face a rather alarming colour of red that almost matched his hair. It was an impressive sight, but the pink sparkles slightly ruined the effect.

“Let’s go!” Gellert yelled, pulling Albus up from the ground.

Laughing, they dashed out from between the bushes, ducking spells Aberforth was launching into their direction between curses. They jumped over small streams and fences and ducked behind trees to avoid Aberforth’s ire. They could have turned and disarmed him easily, but there was something much more freeing in running away, hand-in-hand, laughing even as they stumbled. Within a few minutes, they reached the village proper, and Aberforth had to put his wand away, but he was still enraged enough to keep chasing after them.

Albus and Gellert continued running, ducking between people walking on the narrow streets and barely avoiding bumping into the corners of the buildings as they ran past them. Eventually, Gellert came to a stop as they came to what seemed to be a dead-end between two buildings, but Albus pulled ahead, dragging him behind him.

Letting go of Gellert’s hand, he climbed quickly on top of a small shed, using it to rise to the roof of the house next to it. He could hear Gellert pulling himself up behind them and off they went, jumping from rooftop to a rooftop, sometimes using magic to assist them in their jumps. They continued this way until long after Aberforth had stopped chasing them, relishing in the freedom and the high of the chase.

Finally, they came to a stop, out of breath as they sat down on the edge of a rooftop. Albus chuckled, his chest feeling light like it had not felt in ages, not since he was but a boy, playing hide-and-seek with his siblings in the garden. He leaned his head against Gellert’s shoulder, a smile still lingering on the edges of his lips. Gellert’s shirt was slightly damp from sweat and Albus could feel his chest rising and falling as his breathing slowly evened out.

“You were right,” Albus admitted, lazily watching as Gellert levitated an apple out of a Muggle woman’s shopping basket. He caught it easily on his hand and sliced it in half with a swift movement of his wand, handing one half to Albus. Taking it, Albus took a bite, enjoying the crispness of it on his tongue.

“I’m always right, but what about this time?” Gellert asked absentmindedly as he looked for his next target. 

Smiling, Albus smacked him gently on the chest in admonishment, “That was fun.”

Giving a smug smirk, Gellert conjured them glasses and poured them both a drink from a bottle of lemonade he had snatched from a passerby. As he handed Albus his glass, he said, “I did tell you.”

Watching out for their drinks, Albus leaned over and placed a kiss on Gellert’s cheek.

Fond, he whispered, “Don’t let it get into your head.”

As Gellert only smirked at him in response, Albus thought it was probably too late for that.

[alsbesluit]

president grindelwald

  A knife, and a sword, and everything went dark.

 Theo knew pain a little, but that had been unlike anything he’d felt in his life. He remembered lying in the grass, waiting, waiting. He heard the cannon, but he knew that couldn’t be meant for him. He could hear it. Cannons were meant for tributes that couldn’t hear them any more. What if these blows hadn’t done it? What if it took hours? Well, he wasn’t exactly going to get up any more. He wasn’t even sure he could. He could feel blood, could smell the grass, could hear the screams, the sounds of fighting, the sounds of dying. He just laid there, with his eyes closed, waiting still, waiting until the world faded and he’d have an answer to an age-old question that he was never going to get to tell anyone about.   Or so he thought.

  When he woke, it was in a room that he was positive he’d never been before. He heard the beeping of machines and felt the small weight of a mask that helped him breathe over his mouth. When he tried lifting his hand, he realized there was a needle strapped against his skin which could be administering any sorts of fluids. It felt like a hospital, an incredibly advanced one, but it didn’t smell like it. For some reason the room smelt like the mountains in district Five, the outdoors that he ran to when his father wasn’t around and there was no work left to do. When he listened closely, he could hear the twin sounds of birds chirping and the wind blowing.  What was this place? Theo doubted it was heaven, hell or purgatory, or whatever else there was after death. None of these places would try and keep him alive, which was exactly what was being done. He needed to know where he was. He opened his eyes slowly. They felt heavy, as though protesting the very idea that they needed opening. It was a feeling he ignored when he tried to push himself up very slowly. The ceiling was white and would get him nowhere to figuring out where he was. His surroundings, as it turned out, helped nothing either. It was a room with light blue walls, one of the windows left open a little, a desk and a closet standing to one side. The door was behind him and there was a blanket put over him, but there was no one to be found who did it that could tell him where he was.    Slowly, Theo laid back down, head hitting the pillow again, and closed his eyes. He lifted his other hand to push the mask away to see if he could breathe on his own. That seemed possible, but he kept the mask close by just in case. He felt on his forehead afterwards, well aware of the cut there, and winced when he realized he was touching dressing and bandages. He could only wonder how the cut on his back was doing, because he couldn’t feel it. He checked if he could move his toes, which he could, but the moment he tried pulling up his feet his entire body protested the movement and the machine he was hooked up to started beeping loudly.    Moments later, when Theo had given up on moving for the foreseeable future, the door behind him opened and he heard heavy footsteps walk in. Only one pair of them. The person spoke. “Good, you’re awake.” It was a low voice, certainly one belonging to a man. An older man, Theo wanted to guess, since he sounded somewhat like Theo’s old History teacher. He was also pretty sure he knew the voice, but knew realistically it couldn’t be his teacher. Theo’s teacher knew nothing about medicine, after all. He taught History.   Smaller hands than he’d expected helped him up a little after the footsteps paused by his bed. The breathing mask was taken off entirely and his pillow was pushed up so that he could lean up against it. Theo breathed out heavily after pushing himself up further and opened his eyes then. He looked at  brown eyes, blond hair and a small smile, but more than anything he was looking at Gellert Grindelwald, the President of Panem, a man he’d only ever seen on television. To say that he was confused would be a slight understatement.    “How are you feeling?” President Gellert Grindelwald asked. He laid a hand on Theo’s forehead briefly and his eyebrows frowned, as though deep in thought. “I’ll get someone in here to check if you still have a fever. They said your temperature went down, but I don’t feel it yet. You should be taken good care of. I can’t let them let you do anything until your vitals are good.” He smiled again and reached out for the bottle of water by Theo’s bedside. He put a straw in the bottle and put it in Theo’s mouth so he could drink from it. The first sip felt like his throat had been set on fire, but as he kept drinking the sensation eased.   “Well done, well done,” the president told him in a reassuring tone when Theo stopped drinking and let go of the straw. “You can have some more later, if you would like. But first, we really have to talk, Theodore. How are you feeling?”   The President knew his name? Theo found himself staring at the man before he eventually gathered his wits and spoke. When he tried, however, nothing came out, so he cleared his throat and swallowed a couple of times before he tried again. His voice was barely audible, but it was there. “My body is very sore, Sir,” he replied. “And my legs hurt.” He found that he sounded ungrateful, so he was quick to add: “But it feels like I’m healing. Thank you, Sir.”   The President smiled again. He reached out for Theo with a light frown in his eyebrows and seemed to be fixing the mess that must be Theo’s hair. “You’re about due for a haircut,” he observed softly. “But we’ll get to that.” With that, he lifted his hand and Theo could hear him walk away. For a couple of seconds Theo thought that was that; the President would leave and it would be like he had never been there. But the footsteps paused and then started again. When the President appeared in his view next, he’d taken the chair in front of the desk that Theo spotted earlier and sat down by the bed. “You must have questions. Let me explain.”   “When you were reaped for the Games, Theodore, you were also selected for a very special and secret program, right here at the Capitol. Only a few tributes every year are selected, so you are very special.” The President smiled at those words and moved forward. “Of course, because this is so secret, we couldn’t tell you. So we waited until you seemed to have died in the Games. We picked you up by hovercraft and tended to your wounds. You’re healing now and you’re going to be fine. And once you’ve healed, you can do what you’ve always done: serve Panem, serve the President, and have a great time doing so.”   Theo personally found it weird that the President referred to himself as such. Did he think Theo didn’t know who he was? It was obvious. He appeared during mandatory viewing on television multiple times per year. He’d seen him on the television screens of the Capitol during the preparation of the Games at least ten times alone. But that probably wasn’t what he should be fixating on, he realized. There was loads more to unpack in what he’d been told. “What do I -” he tried and then started again “How do I serve the country and the President?”  It was a question that seemed to have pleased the President, if the way he looked at Theo was anything to go by. “Good question,” he said softly. “You get to stay here in the presidential palace. I’ll help you find your talent, and you can spend a lot of time working on that. You can also work with others who were also selected for the program to work on theirs. When you’re old enough, you will get to join the Peacekeepers and you can go back to your district to help out.” The President smiled again. “I’m sure there’s people you would want to see back.”   Theo shook his head slowly. It was a painful movement, and not only because he felt so sore; it was also painful because of the truth behind the gesture. The President didn’t understand if his way of looking at Theo was anything to go by, so Theo opted to explain. “I have no one I want to see again in my old district, Sir,” he said. “I would be honoured to serve you and become a Peacekeeper, but I don’t have anyone waiting on me there.” The girl, after all, most likely didn’t even know who he was.    The President’s gaze sharpened and his face expression hardened. “I don’t like liars, Theodore, and if that’s how you want to start our relationship you’re already on very thin ice,” he said with the kind of calm in his voice that reminded Theo of his father. “Let me prove that you’re lying. We can discuss the consequences right afterwards.” With that, the President walked back to the desk and reached out for a remote control laying there. He turned on the television above the desk that Theo could only see from the corner of his eye.   “Look familiar?” From what Theo could see it definitely did, but he didn’t think the President wanted an answer. It was footage of the waiting room that the Peacekeepers guided him to after he’d been reaped. They wanted to give his family and friends some time to say goodbye. Theo knew that no one was coming, so he’d been staring out of the window, trying not to cry, waiting until they came to get him again.   The President made the recording go faster with another press on a button of the remote control. Minutes of footage passed by with Theodore sitting in the same chair, staring out of the same window, and nothing happening. When at last the door opened The President said “And here it comes” but it was only a Peacekeeper that ordered him to come to the train with them. Past him last the room without so much as another look around and the room was empty again.   The President paused the tapes and turned back around to face Theo. Was it surprise that he registered in the other’s features? Theo had no use for pity. “You didn’t lie,” the President said. Theo merely shrugged his shoulders. Apparently the President himself didn’t do the selecting, because he would have known this if only he’d asked Theo’s district Five mentors about it. “What about the girl you mentioned in your interview?” But he’d seen that, apparently.   Theo coughed a little and swallowed hard and painfully. “She doesn’t know I exist, Sir. I only thought I would have a shot at being with her when I won. Because then I’d be a Victor.” That he’d since decided he didn’t want to be a victor was beside the point. If it took money and other’s attention for a girl to notice him, he’d rather be alone.    It was with a strange look at him that the President approached again. He sat down on the desk chair and reached out for Theo’s hand, the one with the needle in it, with his and held his hand. “Everything is going to change now,” he told Theo. “We’re going to find your talent, and you’ll never be alone again. There’ll be others with you. There’s food there, and clothes, and if you ever need anything you can ask me. We’ll keep you on bed rest until you feel good enough to join the others. You don’t have to worry about anything ever again.”   He felt like his throat was set on fire again, so all he could do was nod at the words as a sign he’d heard and understood them. The smile on The President’s face was back and all traces from his earlier anger were gone. “Your father is still alive in district Five, isn’t he?” he asked. Theo nodded. “But you don’t like him. And he doesn’t treat you right. That’s over too. You’ll never have to see him again. I’ll be your father, now.”    With that, The President ran a hand through his hair carefully. He pulled the blankets up closer and seemed to study the vitals on one of the machines hooked up to Theo. He helped him lay back down. “I’ll go and get the doctors to check your fever and your vitals,” he was told softly before the breathing mask was put back on. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll check in on you again really soon.”   He saw from the corner of his eye how The President pressed a few buttons on the machine. His eyelids started to feel very heavy again. Theo closed his eyes slowly, sighed lightly, and felt himself drift. He was safe here, he told himself. No harm would be done. He was going to be fine. 

[dragon-kazansky]

Fall to darkness: Gellert Grindelwald x Reader - part 32 (END)

Summary: It’s over now and this is how it ends.

Credence was taken back to London with Dumbledore and friends after the battle. He was taught under Albus on his use of Magic and which spells he should be using, opposed to the curses he had acquired under Grindelwald. At Hogwarts he would be safe and sound. He could control his magic and make friends in a safe environment.

Credence would have a normal life.

Jacob and Queenie were permitted to marry and the law of muggle and wizard kind relationships was discussed and changed in America. Queenie was over the moon and couldn't apologise enough for joining Grindelwald. Jacob couldn't blame her. He had heard the things Grindelwald had said and knew if he was in her shoes he'd have done the same.

Queenie went on to help in the bakery and the pair of them moved into a cute little apartment where they could live happily and am of Queenie's dream could come true, even though she already had everything she wanted.

Tina and Newt married, the former moving to London with him to work in the ministry over there. Often she would help take care of his creatures, and the my would travel together to save more. Though the travelling cane to a stop when Tina became pregnant. Newt was the happiest man alive.

As we know Albus would be headmaster for many years. He would over see many events at the school and would risk his life for a young boy who's life would never be the same once he turned eleven.

Theseus eventually found someone he would live his life with with. Leta was always going to have a place in his heart, but he had to move on eventually. He and Newt became very close as brothers and made the effort to spend time with each other as much as possible. It felt good to have each other.

Grindelwald lived the rest of his life in that prison, but he was happy. As per Dumbledore's request he got to see you every single day. There wasn't a day that went by without a kiss and a cuddle. Dancing was a weekly activity that the two of you loved. He'd hum in your ear and you'd lose yourselves in the rhythm of your dance.

You made up stories to keep him entertained and he'd make up some of his own. Eventually he had requested that muggle books be brought to you. You had thanked him when the first one arrived and to see you so happy made his heart swell. You'd sit with him for hours reading to him.

Then came the roses. They brightened up the prison and soon Numengard was just home. With every new book came a different colour rose. Though non of the flowers compared to your smile each day.

An hour after Grindelwald's loss on the battlefield, many of the wizards who had fought for him had been taken in. Albus stayed with Gellert and you right until the end.

"Are you sure Y/N? I won't be able to do anything if you actually go through with this." Albus tried one last time to save one of his friends, but it was pointless.

"Albus, I won't let him rot away in a cell where I'll never see him again. Give me this, as my friend."

He couldn't refuse.

Gellert often thought about that day. The way you looked at Albus and told him how you felt. After everything that happened he knew he didn't deserve anything, but he still felt like a winner because at the end of the day he still had you.

The one thing Dumbledore couldn't take away.

"What do you think it's like out there?" You asked one day, looking out the window of the cell.

"Peaceful I'd presume. I'm not there to wreak havoc any more." He spoke light heartedly, but you knew he didn't care too much about it.

"You left quite an impression. You'd been feared for so long, everyone would have noticed what we'd done." You turned to him slowly.

"Perhaps. I'm certainly not going to be the last dark wizard to raise hell." He smirked.

He was right of course.

The day did come when Lord Voldemort, the dark Lord, rose to power. He seemed to kill a boy called Harry Potter who was the only one alive who could kill the dark wizard.

Dumbledore's death was probably the worst news you had ever received while in Numengard. You knew that it wasn't just your heart that broke upon the news. Gellert grew silent, but was alright because you were there.

Then the dark Lord came to you two. Grindelwald being the previous owner of the Elder wand was presumed to know it's location and Voldemort wanted to know.

You held Gellert's hand as he smirked up at the snake like man.

"It lies with him."

It wouldn't be until things calmed down a little bit after Voldemort's defeat that people would learn that he had killed Gellert and yourself after that piece of information.

There were those who were glad to know Grindelwald had been killed at the hands of another dark wizard, one far more powerful than he was. Then there were those were somewhat glad to hear he didn't die alone.

He was still a man at the end of the day, even if a dangerous one at that.

Aberforth was heartbroken to hear about your death. He remembered you fondly even after your choice, but he was glad that you weren't alone. He despised Gellert for what he did to his family, but he would thank if him, if possible, for being with you till your last day.

Newt and Tina kept you in their thoughts even though they didn't know you like the Dumbledore's did. It was the least they could do for their friend.

Queenie held a service in your honour. She wanted people to remember the brave witch she called her friend when times were dark. Jacob supported her and even made a pastry in your name. They would giggle of that, but Queenie liked that there was always a part of you with her that way.

Credence was thankful to you both, even if Grindelwald had lied to him and used him. You always had a special place in his heart because he could rely on you and talk to you.

Oh how Credence would miss you.

Grindelwald could be found in the prison with his hand in yours, laying side by side with you. Almost as someone had placed you both that way.

It's told he wasn't very happy in life. That's why he did all the things he did, but that was a lie.

Gellert Grindelwald was the happiest man in the world and he died as he lived. Beside you.

The end

[theivorybilledwoodpecker]

Quarrel

Note: I don't own Fantastic Beasts, and I'm not writing this for profit.

Percival waits until they're on the road to try again. They've been traveling for a few days, and Grindelwald has given him more freedom than Percival had expected. There's always someone watching, but he hasn't been bound magically, and he's free to move around camp.

Grindelwald hadn't done anything to punish Graves for his previous escape attempt. He'd expressed his understanding, following it up with a chastisement, but that had been it. But that doesn't mean that Grindelwald's good mood will last. Percival had known even when Grindelwald had first made the 'offer' for Percival's hand that he couldn't spend the rest of his life as Grindelwald's prisoner. Despite Grindelwald's assurances that he wouldn't hurt his 'darling,' Percival doesn't trusted that this grace period will last.

Two weeks into the marriage, Graves still hasn't changed his mind. Every time Grindelwald looks at him with his penetrating eyes, Graves can remember what it was like to stare into them, feeling his captor steal every memory and thought that Graves has ever had and being utterly defenseless. When Grindelwald makes some attempt to drape an arm over him or pull him into an embrace, Percival can remember the feel of Grindelwald's hands around his throat, the dungeon floor a cold resting place as Grindelwald punished Percival for managing to kill one of his guards

Once again, he waits until Gellert is asleep before getting up. This time Percival doesn't take anything. His only goal is to get far enough away from the anti-apparation jinx to disapparate.

He doesn't even make it outside the tent before Grindelwald calls out, "Are you going to come back to bed, or do I need to get up?"

"I need to use the bathroom." Percival lies and keeps walking, not hesitating even when he hears Grindelwald get up go follow him.

"You should have woken me up. We're miles from any town. There are creatures-"

"Better them than you. Anyway, you're awake now. "

Grindelwald tuts. "Come now, that's not-"

"Turn around." Graves snaps waspishly; they're far enough into the woods that it's unlikely anyone will see. Grindelwald obeys without any objection, but Percival still turns the other way as he drops his pants. He can feel his cheeks burn with embarrassment, but he knows that he needs to carry through with it. Otherwise Grindelwald will know that he was lying. The man probably guesses as much already, but still.

They don't speak again until they reach their tent.

"I'm not going to hurt you, darling." Grindelwald says, turning to Percival at the flap. "No matter how often you try to leave me. No one here will. The punishment for harming my husband is a long, painful death." He reaches out as if to run his hand through Percival's hair, but Graves brushes past him.

"You already have hurt me, Gellert." Percival says shortly, kicking his boots off. "I've still got the scars."

"That was different!" Grindelwald replies earnestly, coming closer "You were my prisoner then. Now you're my husband. And if you take your shirt off, I can heal those."

"No." Percival snaps. He jerks away and stumbles against a chair. "I don't want you touching me."

"I didn't mean-"

"I don't care how you meant it." Percival snarls. "Stay the hell away from me."

Grindelwald has the audacity to look exasperated. "Come now, you're overreacting."

"Overreacting?" Percival is shouting now. "You...you tortured me! You kept me prisoner in my own home for over a year, and just when I'm starting to get my life back together you come back and make my life a living hell!"

"I did what I had to do." Grindelwald's voice holds only the slightest note of regret. "It was for the greater good. And I didn't want to hurt you. If you hadn't fought me-"

Graves's fist connecting with Grindelwald's jaw surprises even Percival. If he'd stopped to think about it, he wouldn't have done it. He would have waited until he had some advantage over the man. But Graves isn't thinking strategically. He's thinking about the feel of the whip across his back. About being forced to stand on the thinnest block of his parapet, feeling his legs ache as he struggled to keep his balance, being told that he can't come down until he lets Grindelwald into his mind. Of being kept awake for days until he was finally too week to fight anymore. And all Percival wants is to cause Grindelwald even a fraction of the pain that the man's caused him.

It's not nearly enough, but Percival gets in more than a few blows before his arm is twisted behind his back and his face is pressed sideways into the ground.

Grindelwald waits until Graves stops thrashing to speak. "Are you finished?" He's breathing heavily. He takes Graves's stillness as an answer. "Good."

And then Percival is shirtless. Panic starts to rise in him, and Graves tries to throw Grindelwald off, only to realize that he's no longer held down by the other man's weight but by magic.

"No-"

"Shhh..." Grindelwald whispers. Percival flinches as the other man runs a hand over his back, and then he feels a tingling sensation. "There. All healed now." And then Percival has his shirt back. "I'm going to let you up now; please don't try anything. I really don't want to fight you."

As soon as the spell lifts, Graves rolls away and stumbles to his feet, putting as much distance between himself and Grindelwald as possible.

"You're right." Grindelwald is looking at him thoughtfully. "It is a bit much to expect you to put behind you. You deserve recompense."

"Give me an annulment and we'll call it even."

Grindelwald shakes his head. "I can't do that, Percival. I have my reasons. But a wedding present perhaps..."

[calleo-bricriu]

now I have to know what completely embarrassing thing you did that got your mom, dad, and boss all agreeing that you were acting like a brat because it sounds like it'd be HILARIOUS.

(( This is something that happened off Tumblr about a week ago and is what Calleo was talking about in this post.

TL;DR All of Calleo's other relationships are with people who either don't particularly want someone close to them on a regular basis as they find it stifling or people who do enjoy that but aslo have their own partnership so if Calleo dips in and out of contact on a regular basis for work, they don't mind (and are more than used to it).  @absintheabsence​ does not fall under either of those categories but also has very little concept of what good treatment looks like, partially because he probably treated other people like afterthoughts (if he thought about them at all) and/or was often treated as one himself along with that 'oh, well, I mean, it's not like I'm a person so it's fine' mindset he gets into now and again.  ))

Words, spoken or unspoken can make all the difference in the world.

Early on, when Gellert was almost frantic about touch, Calleo immediately fell into what turned out to be a short-lived response. The frantic had a always been met with calm verbal reassurances that he was genuinely and deeply loved. When Calleo had to leave, he’d always make sure the last thing Gellert would hear before the disapparation was some variant of, “I love you.”

Any conversation during the day ended the same.

When he’d return, Calleo’s greetings included a great deal on how he had missed Gellert while he was away, usually followed by sitting or laying somewhere to talk about their respective days.

Nights continued much the same, with Calleo making certain to end the conversation before sleep by reminding Gellert that he would never have to worry about being abandoned and that he was, of course, loved.

And, because he was Calleo, once he started focusing the majority of his time on both Ministry work and side projects, it was forgotten. Rarely at first, but rarely became occasionally, occasionally turned into often, and often fell into the territory of Calleo simply taking it for granted and as something that didn’t need reinforcement or frequent repetitions. To him—or at least how he justified it to himself—it was a given as he was still present. Calleo was never annoyed or irritated when Gellert would ask or do things to get his attention, but it was more than fair to say that he didn’t understand the need, and that often came across as him going through the motions long enough to get Gellert to calm down again.

He’d mentioned it in passing to his parents during one of their almost daily lunch time visits to his office; the silence in the air, confusion tinged from Calleo, nearly incredulous from his father, and something as close to the realm of disappointment that he’d ever seen from his mother. She had moved to speak first, but stopped as her husband gave her the sort of subtle head shake indicating he’d at least decided to give Calleo a few more seconds to possibly come to the correct conclusion.

When that didn’t happen, all Calleo got as a response was, “And do you think I make your mother nearly beg for my time and attention, or that she makes me beg for hers?”

The answer to that was, of course, no, but Calleo being Calleo started to protest beyond that answer and found himself interrupted by his mother—something he could scarcely recall ever happening.The undercurrent in her tone was something he couldn’t quite place. Despite that, whatever it was, it was startling enough that he instinctively knew better than to argue with or interrupt her.

“You cannot, cannot treat this as though it were one of your more casual associations. I don’t doubt that you care about those people just as deeply, and I doubt your father does either, but they have their lives separate from yours and you have yours separate from theirs. Those partnerships are fundamentally different at their cores than this one; you need to stop viewing it as if it were not.”

Calleo stayed silent, still not daring to even accidentally interrupt her.

“And wipe that look off of your face. I’m your mother, I know better than anyone when you’ve already begun deciding what you’re being told is incorrect.”

Calleo blinked. He hadn’t even been aware he’d had any particular look on.

“Whether you entered into what you entered into purposely or accidentally doesn’t matter at this point because you stubbornly chose, against everyone’s advice, including his, to voluntarily remain bound to that pact despite clearly not fully understanding what it meant or how deeply it ran. Why do you think everyone around you tried to get you to take the offer to break it?”

Rhetorical. There was no need to answer.

“It wasn’t because it was him, at least not from our end. You didn’t have any idea what you’d done and agreed to then, and it’s beyond evident that you still think it’s some frivolous curiosity that holds no deeper meaning beyond a few communication tricks and a shiny trinket that’s no different from the shelves full of shiny things that briefly catch your attention.”

“You bound yourself through Blood Magic to another person! Not only that, you allowed someone else to remain bound to you despite their misgivings,” now she sounded—not exactly angry, more a little cross and a whole lot of exasperated. She stepped forward and cupped Calleo’s face in her hands; it wasn’t enough of a grip that he couldn’t have pulled away, just enough of one to let him know doing that would not be the best of ideas.

“You are my only child, and I love you above all else, but you are acting like a spoiled brat that we did not raise. You will either be an adult and treat this situation you have put yourself in with the time, attention, and priority that it calls for and deserves, or you will cut him loose. There is not a third option.” With that said, she pulled Calleo’s head down a bit to kiss his forehead (leaving a lipstick print of course) and left his office without a further word.

Calleo glanced at his father while wiping away the pinkish-red mark on his forehead. Mum had never spoken to him like that before in his entire life!  What he received in return was a half of a shrug and a, “Listen to your mother,” as he left the office as well.

On some level, Calleo half expected Director Yandle to have heard the conversation through the walls and come in to cuff him upside the head as his contribution. Instead, all he did was appear a few minutes later to silently drop a large stack of Divination work that needed filing onto his desk.

When Calleo returned to Nurmengard later in the evening it was quiet and subdued, without the usual possibly remembering so say hello mid-way through launching into an immediate rant about some thing that had happened at work.

He didn’t say anything at all, not verbally at least; he did, however walk over to that awful, rickety old chair on which Gellert always seemed to use, despite it being wobbly and solid wood. Taking a quick note of the page an open book that had, until a moment ago, been being read, Calleo closed it and picked it up. With his free hand, he took one of Gellert’s, pulled him the few steps to the sofa, and down onto it with him.

Once that had been all settled, the book hovered itself at proper reading distance in front of Gellert, re-opening to the correct page. Calleo kept one arm around Gellert and the other he shifted enough to gently run his fingers through silver hair.

[silverynight]

My love, my life

Theseus wouldn't have allowed him to do such thing, but he's not there anymore; he went with the first group to find another place to for the others to hide, but only three came back. The ones that still remain say they lost the other two in the snow and they are probably dead by now, although Newt refuses to believe that.

The problem is that even though the few explorers managed to pass unseen close to Nurmengard they know thirty people won't. Which means at least half of them will have to "donate" their blood to the vampires that live in the castle.

But the people are too weak and they have a few young ones that won't survive if one of those vampires bites them.

Still, they come up with a plan and Newt tries to help carrying two children in his arms (he actually likes them and since there's no one left in his family he's completely focused on taking care of them, even if they're not his).

They managed to get to the other side, but they get captured and taken to the castle. Grindelwald, the leader of the vampires is not at all pleased.

"I'm sure you must know, Hellen, that all humans have to pay a tribute if they want to cross our territory," Grindelwald looks from her to some of the people gathered in there and smirks. "I should punish you for trying to sneak in my territory, but I'm not merciless... I will forgive you if your people feed mine this time..."

"Some of us haven't eaten in–"

Before Hellen can say anything else, Newt steps forward and thinks of how angry Theseus would be if he heard him saying what he is about to say.

"What if I stay?"

Some of the vampires look at him in shock, others just narrow his eyes at him.

Grindelwald finally looks at him and Newt realizes the color of his eyes is not the same.

"Forever?" He's surprised and genuinely interested in Newt's response and the human feels like he has a chance of actually helping the others.

"As long as I live," he mumbles and he's aware that to a vampire that doesn't mean much.

"You don't have to, Newt–"

Before one of the men can try to persuade him; Grindelwald rises from the chair he was sitting and gets closer to the redhead.

The vampire circles him; he stares and stares and Newt has no idea what he's really thinking.

"You won't see any of them again," Grindelwald says, caressing Newt's hair almost kindly.

But they'll be okay; Newt doesn't say, but thinks it, he believes it.

They'll have a better chance to survive in another place and perhaps they'll get to see Theseus again, because despite of what everyone else thinks, Newt knows his brother is alive.

"It's okay," he mumbles instead and hears one of the children sob (he knows it's probably Amber) until her mother takes her in her arms.

"Is that your child?"

"I don't have kids," Newt says, even though it's like they all are his in a way.

"What's your name?"

"Newt."

Grindelwald keeps looking at him until his smug expression turns into something more gentle.

"Alright, woman," he tells Hellen. "We have a deal, you can leave with your people and I'll keep Newton."

He feels relief and peace, despite that he's aware that he'll suffer in there or die in a couple of days if Grindelwald allows all of his vampires to feed from him.

***

Grindelwald gives him a room; it's his own room but vampires almost never sleep so Newt gets the bed all to himself. He can also walk around the castle as much as he wants, but he cannot leave.

The vampire with mismatched eyes doesn't let anyone drink from him; one of them tried once and Grindelwald took their head off, not in front of Newt, but Vinda told him a couple of days later.

Now they don't even dare to look at him; it's not weird... Newt knows some vampires are really possessive over their food... Although Grindelwald hasn't fed from him yet.

But he watches Newt, he walks in the bedroom and stares at him like he's trying to decipher him.

He sits on the floor next to him the day a small fox gets in the castle and watches patiently as Newt earns its trust.

When the little animal bites Newt, Grindelwald bares his teeth at the fox, but the human puts himself in the middle of the two.

"It's okay, I'm not hurt," he assures him. "He's scared, he's trying to protect himself."

Grindelwald nods and sits again, although he's not as relaxed or happy like he was when he walked inside the bedroom.

When the little fox starts getting closer to Newt, the vampire speaks again.

"You lied, pretty... You're hurt," Grindelwald comments. "I can smell your blood."

Newt looks at his hand and then offers it to the vampire; he's not sure if he's thirsty or not, but he hasn't drank from him since he got there.

Although instead of drinking, the vampire just licks his wound until it's clean and Newt watches as it heals quickly.

He stares at the vampire in confusion.

"Aren't you... thirsty?"

"The older a vampire gets, the longer he can last without drinking blood," Grindelwald says, smiling fondly at him. He's amused for some reason. "Besides, I won't drink from you until you offer me your neck yourself."

"And if I never do that?" Newt mumbles, stroking the fox until it falls asleep on his lap.

"I won't feed from you," Grindelwald says.

Instead of asking the reason behind that, Newt chooses another type of question.

"Why the neck? What's the matter with my wrist? Does it taste different?" Newt has always been curious; he loves to know more about any kind of topic, especially about living things.

Grindelwald chuckles and gets closer, he does it slowly almost like he's afraid Newt will flee if he is not careful. It seems like the vampire learned a thing or two from him.

It amuses Newt, although he doesn't smile.

"I'll answer all the questions you have, but only if you let me touch you."

The redhead feels both his brows quirking up in surprise; he hadn't realized, not until that moment at least, that the vampire hadn't touched him since the day they met.

Newt nods and tries not to gasp when he gets pulled onto Grindelwald's lap. Fortunately, the fox doesn't wake up.

"You're cold."

"I'm always cold, Liebling. But you always make me feel warmer, even if I'm not touching you."

Newt doesn't know how to respond to that, so he decides to repeat his previous question. Grindelwald nuzzles his neck before answering.

"It doesn't taste different," he explains. "But it means something different."

"What does it mean?"

"Well..." Grindelwald puts his head over Newt's shoulder and takes one of his hands. "If I drink from one of your wrists, it means you're food to me, although if you offer it it could mean you're my ally or even my friend. But if you allow me to drink from your neck... It means you want me as much as I do, because you see, Liebling, a vampire only bites the neck of the one they consider their lover."

Grindelwald kisses the back of Newt's head as soon as he whispers the last word and even as someone as oblivious like himself knows what the vampire is trying to say.

He blushes to the tip of his ears and doesn't say anything else, although Grindelwald doesn't seem upset by Newt's silence; it's almost like he enjoys it.

***

Nellie grows stronger and very protective of Newt and even though the fox doesn't trust vampires in general, she always allows Grindelwald to get closer to the human.

The vampire has noticed it too and it pleases him completely.

"Good girl," he says, after bringing her a piece of meat. "It seems you have taken good care of your Mummy."

It's the first time Grindelwald calls him that and after the initial surprise, Newt blushes and giggles, absolutely delighted. He kind of enjoys being called 'Mummy'.

"Ah... The first one. It's even better than I thought it would."

"The first what?" Newt asks, always curious.

"First time I make you smile," Grindelwald mumbles, kissing Newt's forehead. "It took me a while."

He gets flustered, just for a couple of seconds because he gets distracted by the shadows under Grindelwald's eyes.

"You're tired," he comments, worried.

"I'm fine, Liebling."

"You're lying," Newt narrows his eyes. And he realizes quickly what's going on. "When you said you wouldn't drink from me I had no idea you meant you wouldn't drink at all."

"I'm not thirsty," Grindelwald lies again, although this time he looks like he is truly sorry.

Newt takes a step closer and exposes his neck in front of him; he watches as Grindelwald's eyes turn completely red.

"No," he shakes his head, shocking Newt.

"Why not? I thought you wanted this..."

"Not like that," the vampire grimaces like he's in pain. "You're not ready. You don't really mean it. I know you, Newton. You just want to feed me because you're worried about me. You don't want this."

"I want to help you..."

"It's not enough, my love."

Grindelwald walks away before Newt can say anything else. He even starts avoiding the human and when Newt mentions it to Vinda she just rolls her eyes.

"He's so dramatic sometimes..." She huffs and she takes Newt to Grindelwald's private office.

The vampire freezes as soon as he sees Newt.

"Liebling–"

"If I'm concerned, it's because I care about you," Newt cuts him off, rushing into his office. He even sits over the vampire's lap, just the way he likes it. "I want you to bite me."

"Newton..."

"Gellert," he says in return and they both know it's the first time he uses the vampire's given name.

Although Newt definitely doesn't expect the reaction he gets from him. The vampire gets completely flustered.

"It's not fair," he says, staring at Newt in awe.

"Please, Gellert," Newt mumbles, really enjoying the power he has over the vampire.

"Now you're doing it on purpose," Grindelwald whispers, although he looks so proud of him. He kisses Newt's neck, but doesn't bite it. "At least tell me you feel something for me... It doesn't have to be love yet, but–"

Newt shuts him up with a kiss on the lips. It's quick, but it's enough to get his message across.

"Bite me," he insists and this time Grindelwald doesn't hesitate and Newt is not surprised by the pain he feels, but by the wave of pleasure that follows it.

Unfortunately, it doesn't last long. And Newt surprises himself by whining when the vampire pulls away and starts cleaning the mark he left on Newt.

"Why did you stop?"

"Because I had to, my love. I don't need much blood to feel satisfied," he chuckles, kissing Newt. "And I don't want to hurt you. Besides, there are other ways I can give you pleasure, if you allow me to show you..."

The human blushes but doesn't look away from him.

"I'd... like that." He whispers, enjoying the way Grindelwald looks back at him, eyes glimmering with happiness and love.

***

I wrote this for my friend Jason a while ago.

Patreon

[downn-in-flames]

9.9 Out of 10, Highly Recommend (chapter 2)

Read it on: HPFT | AO3 | FFnet

Previous chapters: 1

DAY ONE

The 73rd Precinct of the NYPD always smells like a mixture of burnt coffee, musty files, and the 'ocean breeze' air freshener that sprays every 20 minutes like clockwork.

That last one is solely Lily's contribution - damn, someone's going to have to take responsibility for refilling that thing once she's gone. Unless she takes the whole contraption with her, in which case the place will probably start smelling like Peter's feet again.

But on top of that strange concoction of fragrances, the precinct also smells like opportunity.

At least, that's the cheesy line James is telling himself, in the hopes of being largely optimistic about this whole thing. He's still got a slight headache from all his drinking the night before, but he's also got a really solid plan of action.

It's a pretty foolproof plan, if he says so himself. For all that his friends like to rib him about going catatonic around people he's got a crush on, he's also done pretty damn well at getting his fair share of dates over the years.

It's just a matter of applying those tactics to someone he already fancies something awful.

He just needs to channel his inner Aries, or whatever it is that his zodiac sign is. Marlene's always going off about astrology, and truthfully, James is usually only halfway paying attention, but he's pretty sure he's supposed to be super courageous and powerful or something like that.

He's going to need that today. He's not planning on asking Lily out just yet - he needs to take this slow if he actually wants a decent shot at her saying yes - but he's most definitely going to attempt to flirt with her.

In real life this time, instead of just daydreaming about it like he's so apt to do during staff meetings.

I mean, really, what else is he meant to do when Dumbledore is going on about 'the valiant battle of good versus evil in the streets of New York' other than dream up elaborate situations involving Lily and increasingly ridiculous pick-up lines? Pay attention?

In a burst of nervous energy, he goes about cleaning up his desk a little. It's a complete disaster, really - although James is more apt to call it organized chaos, because he knows exactly where every file is, thank you very much. He throws away the Coke can that's been sitting there for far too long, and empties his pencil cup of the various candy wrappers that have accumulated there.

Externally, it's not a massive improvement, but it still feels productive to James.

He looks up when Lily walks in. She's holding a large iced coffee, and James immediately knows what that means. It's her hangover drink. He shouldn't really be surprised that she went out last night - she just got a major promotion, after all - but she very rarely drinks enough on weekdays to warrant a hangover coffee the next day.

Her blouse also has one more button open than it normally does; James isn't sure if she's noticed that particular wardrobe malfunction yet, but he's definitely not going to be the one to point it out to her. He's also not going to pay attention to the way that that extra open button reveals just the tiniest bit of cleavage.

He looks up at her face instead, and that turns out to be a mistake. Because she smiles at him brightly - and it almost blinds him for the briefest of moments. "Good morning, James," she says.

For someone holding a hangover coffee, she's surprisingly chipper. Especially towards him. It's enough of a shock that the pencil he's been twiddling between his fingers falls to the floor.

"Good morning," he replies, trying to sound casual despite the writing utensil currently clattering on the tile. "You look lovely today, by the way."

There he goes. He did it. He flirted. He's doing great at this.

"Only today?" she replies, raising an eyebrow at him. "Do I not look lovely every day?"

Shit, maybe he's not actually doing great at this.

"No, no, of course you look lovely every day," he quickly backtracks. "I just meant that - "

Lily laughs - it's a sweet melodic sound to James' ears and it makes him relax a little bit. "I'm only joking - I know what you meant. I just wanted to give you a hard time, is all."

He absolutely wasn't prepared for that one. Lily's never been cold towards him, but the vibe of her behavior right now feels decidedly different than normal. "Oh."

"How was your night?" Lily asks, walking away from her desk and coming over to lean against his.

James is trying very hard not to pay attention to her open blouse - even though it's practically right in front of his face now - and it's only because of that intentional avoidance that he catches Sirius and Remus walking out of the elevator.

"It was good," he answers. "Me, Sirius, Remus, and Peter tried out another brewery - I take it you went out last night as well?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Remus giving him a thumbs up and Sirius miming a lewd gesture.

A look of surprise crosses Lily's features. "How'd you know that?"

He realises that he's now dug himself into a bit of a hole, and the only escape is admitting just how much he's been watching her over the years. "I - er, you always get a large iced coffee whenever you're hungover."

Lily looks at him oddly - fuck, he's definitely creeped her out. "Huh," she muses, "I guess I do."

James struggles for words for a few moments, trying to figure out how the hell to get himself out of this situation, but Lily speaks again before he has a chance to. "You threw the Coke can away," she observes.

Now it's his turn to be surprised by her perceptiveness.

"I did," he replies, although it comes out more like a question than a statement.

Lily at least looks a little flustered by that. "It's just - it's been there for a while. Four months and nine days, by my count."

James actually laughs at that, and the remaining tension drops out of his shoulders. "Oh my god, of course you would've kept count of that, Evans."

"It's an awfully long time to keep an empty Coke can around, is all," she defends.

He looks at her endearingly. "You're really something else, you know that?"

Lily ducks her head at that, letting a curtain of auburn hair fall over her face, but it doesn't fully hide the fact that her cheeks are notably flushed.

He just… made her blush with that?

Naturally, it's when he's not even trying to be smooth that he actually succeeds at it.

"As fun as watching you two lovebirds is..." James looks away from Lily to see Marlene standing a few feet away, arms crossed. "Captain Dumbles called a meeting, so I'm going to need you two to keep it in your pants until later."

Fucking hell, he really needs Marlene not to say things like that. Things like that decidedly do not go well with the whole 'taking things slow and not weirding her out' plan.

"I can't wait until the day Dumbledore hears that you call him Dumbles behind his back," Lily retorts, flipping her hair over her shoulder and seemingly choosing to ignore Marlene's massively unsubtle comments about the two of them.

"Please," Marlene grins, "The Dumble-D loves me. If anything, he'll decide to adopt it as his official nickname."

"Somehow, I seriously doubt that," James replies, reaching underneath a stack of papers to retrieve his notepad and a random pen with a faded Flourish and Blott's logo on the side.

Their captain is… a bit of an enigma, if he's being honest. He's rather eccentric, but also takes his leadership role seriously. He's also just about as weirdly private as Mary is when it comes to his personal life, so all that James really knows is that his husband's name is Gellert and that he works as a financial planner.

Beyond that, he could secretly be researching dragon's blood on the side or something and the rest of the precinct would be none the wiser.

Despite all of that - and despite James' many jokes about his boss - Dumbledore is a pretty damn good captain, and James has a lot of respect for him.

When they walk into Meeting Room 1, Lily surprises him by sitting in the seat next to him instead of two tables in front of him like usual.

"Is it alright if I sit here?" she says, leaning toward him just a bit. If James didn't know better, he'd definitely think Lily was trying to weaponize that damn open button on her blouse against him somehow.

But even without the extra button, he's more than happy to have her sit next to him. Pete can just figure out somewhere else to sit.

"Yeah, of course."

Sure enough, when Peter walks into the room just a few seconds later, he looks vaguely scandalised when he discovers that his usual spot has been occupied. There's a moment where James thinks Peter might say something, but he apparently thinks better of it, because he walks over to Lily's normal spot, taking the seat next to Mary. James doesn't miss the way he intentionally moves his chair a few extra inches away from Mary - Peter's always been a little terrified by the other detective.

"Good morning, team," Kingsley says as he walks into the room, taking his spot next to the podium at the front of the room.

There's an unsynchronised echo of 'good mornings' in response.

A few moments later, Dumbledore comes into the room. He's always had a strange way of carrying himself - almost as if he's wearing long, flowing royal robes instead of his police captain uniform.

But if James had to pick out the single most notable aspect of Dumbledore's appearance - and the one he almost immediately commented on with a 'hello there, Gandalf' on the first day their new captain was introduced - is the his impressively long, slightly-greying beard.

Seriously. That thing is practically a work of art.

"We have widespread records of a whole range of various illegitimate activity from last night," Dumbledore begins, without any preamble. His speeches always firmly straddle the line between incredibly blunt and entirely too vague, and this one seems to be no exception.

"There were no fewer than seven bodegas all held up around the same time," he adds, giving much needed context to his initial statement.

"Why would anyone want to rob a bodega?" Peter interjects, sounding almost affronted by the news.

James is, truthfully, of the opposite mindset. Bodegas have everything you could ever need - who wouldn't want to rob one of those?

Well, not him, because he's an upstanding member of society who doesn't steal from anyone, but like, if he had to pick a place…

He refrains from providing that commentary out loud though, because Lily is currently sitting rather close to him and he doesn't want to do anything to disturb that balance.

"The fact that seven robberies happened at once is an indicator that there are deeper, more sinister forces at play," Dumbledore says, ignoring Peter's commentary. "We think that these were meant as some sort of diversion for something else."

"Like what?" Remus asks.

"No one's completely sure. There were also reports of strange activity near the intersection of Liberty and Prospect, but nothing that seemed to warrant police involvement. At least, not when there were seven hold-ups taking place at the same time."

James is paying attention to the meeting - he is - but he's also currently contending with the fact that Lily's knee keeps bumping against his. He's not sure if she's mistaken his leg for part of the table or something, but it's throwing his concentration off just a tiny bit. Largely because he's not sure what to make of it, especially if it turns out Lily knows she's bumping against his leg and not the table.

Were it not for the fact that the four of them had all sworn to secrecy - and having Lily openly flirting with him would actually help his side of the bet - he'd really think one of his friends meddled in things to get her to act like this. Maybe as some sort of joke or something.

After zoning out for a minute and missing a decent bit of the captain's speech, Dumbledore clearing his throat brings James back into the present moment. "Because of this, we have reason to believe some sort of exchange is meant to take place in that same location sometime before this weekend."

"We're going to set up a rotating schedule of stakeouts," Kingsley adds. This has always been how he and Dumbledore have operated - the captain handles all the big picture information, and Kingsley sorts out the details. "McDonald and Lupin, you two are taking tonight. Potter and Evans, you two are tomorrow. Black and Pettigrew, you're taking Friday."

James can't believe the good luck the universe has given him this week.

Sirius, on the other hand, doesn't appear to feel quite as lucky. "Hey, why can't I have Remus as my stakeout partner?"

"You know precisely why, Black," Dumbledore responds plainly, showing absolutely no sign of emotion whatsoever. He's either internally laughing at the situation or still massively pissed about it, but James can never actually tell which of those he's feeling at any given time.

Nor can anyone in the precinct, really. Their captain is nothing if not confusing as hell.

As for the reason his two friends aren't allowed to stake out together anymore, the story involved a very heated makeout session in a patrol car.

They ended up catching the perp though, but not before the criminal witnessed the hickey on Sirius' neck and Remus' undone belt and started shouting something about road head in a cop car as soon as he'd been brought into the precinct.

James is sure Sirius would like to argue further, maybe throw in a comment about how he and Lily were paired together, and surely the sergeant is only doing this because his relationship is a homosexual one - the gay card, his favorite one to pull even though the captain is gay himself - but the rules of the bet preclude him from saying anything about what James is trying to do in the next ten days.

The meeting carries on for a little bit longer, and there's further discussion about the crime ring that Dumbledore thinks this is connected to, but for the most part, it's nothing groundbreaking. They're dismissed eventually, and the only real notes James has managed to take during the entire thing are some terribly done doodles and the word 'Thursday.'

James takes the long way back to his desk, stopping by the kitchens to get a Coke out of the fridge. Remus and Peter are leaving the precinct to go question a witness, and he gives them both a high five on their way out.

When he gets back to his desk, the first thing he does is open up his email - it's filled with a whole host of announcements that he probably should read at some point today, but for now, he just scrolls through them all to get the angry red 'unread' number to go away. The process is weirdly methodical and soothing, and he can almost entirely block out Sirius' phone barking repeatedly - although honestly, who's sending him that many texts right now?

"I still can't believe you don't sort your emails," a voice says from behind him, and James jumps when he realises Lily is standing by his desk again. The extra button on her blouse is done back up this time.

"Why would I?" he responds. "There's a search bar for a reason."

"And you just keep a perfect mental record of the exact search terms you'll need to find whatever you're looking for?"

James shrugs. "Pretty much."

Lily laughs. "Unbelievable."

He feels strangely like he needs to defend his email system - not everyone can be as organized as she is - but he's saved from trying to develop an argument by Lily changing the subject. "So, I was thinking," she starts, biting her bottom lip like she always does when she's nervous, "maybe you and I could go do something after work today? Just the two of us? Like, as a date?"

Well, his perfectly-crafted days one through three just went straight out the window.

But even though his mind is positively reeling - because where the fuck did this come from - he manages to sound pretty put-together out loud. "Yeah, that'd be great, Evans. What do you have in mind?"

She grins, emerald eyes sparkling with something between joy and mischief. "You'll see."

"That sounds ominous."

"Maybe it is," she replies. "But yay, I'm looking forward to it."

She immediately turns to make the five-foot trek back to her own desk, but James can't resist asking the question that's been on his mind since this morning. "Where did this come from, Evans? We've both worked here for almost three years, and you ask me out the day after you find out you're moving precincts?"

The smile on her face falters for half a second - James notices that much. "I have a self-imposed rule about not dating coworkers," she tells him. "But I'm leaving in a few days, so I figured it's now or never."

He supposes that logic is fair enough. And Lily would be the type of person to have a complicated set of personal rules, really.

But damn, if she's only shown no interest in him because they were working together, winning this bet might be a whole lot easier than he'd expected.

Knowing that he's got a date after work has the magical effect of making the day go by so much slower than usual. He's honestly bored out of his mind filling out paperwork from a few small cases he'd worked on over the past few weeks - but there's a good chance Kingsley will kick his ass if he doesn't have all those reports done by the end of this week.

And Kingsley could kick James' ass easily; James passed his physical test to join the force and all, but Kingsley works out like three times a day. There's no way in hell James can compete with that.

"I'll text you where to meet me," Lily says, when she sees James start packing up his things. "Wear something comfortable."

This seems like it's about to be a very unconventional first date, whatever it is, because 'comfortable' isn't usually the look James goes for - at least, not on the usual dinner-and-a-movie first date type of thing.

Despite the confusion of it all, James actually really doesn't mind it. He's always been the type of person that loves surprises, and any surprise Lily comes up with seems like a pretty solid one to him.

He still texts Sirius for advice anyways. As soon as he starts the walk home to his apartment, he pulls out his phone and types out a message to his much more fashionable friend.

ok lily said to dress comfortable, what the hell should i wear for this

you do realise it's a direct conflict of interest for me to answer that, right?

i really should just tell you something to wear something absurd so that i win

honestly, fuck you

no thanks, i've got moony for that

that joke again, seriously?

DO NOT MAKE A SIRIUS PUN I SWEAR TO GOD

since you're so intent on taking things *siriusly*, jeans and one of your t-shirts that doesn't have a hole in it is probably good enough

ideally one of the more fitted ones that makes you look like you've actually got biceps instead of just being a goddamn beanpole

ugh fuck off

but also thx

you're very welcome

Despite the fact that texting Sirius for advice almost always turns into getting endless shit about his questions, Sirius is usually pretty helpful. And he was in this case, and James takes his advice, putting on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from a campaign he volunteered on.

Lily texts him an address, which he immediately plugs into Google Maps. It resolves a place called 'Indoor Extreme Sports.'

Which, quite honestly, sounds like his dream first date. A dream first date with his dream girl isn't too a shabby a way to spend his Wednesday.

When James arrives at the designated location, Lily's already there waiting for him. He'd thought he'd beat her by getting there five minutes earlier than when she'd told him to meet him, but really, he should've known better. Lily is never less than ten minutes early for everything.

She's changed into black shorts and a green top, and her hair is tied up into a ponytail.

"Indoor Extreme Sports?" James asks. "That's an unconventional date choice."

"You don't like it?"

"Exact opposite, actually," James replies. "I'm realising just how much I've missed out on at this point in my life by not having every first date I've ever been on at an Indoor Extreme Sports."

"Oh," Lily says. "Good." She doesn't sound quite as relieved as her words would imply, and James isn't quite sure what to make of that. "Nice shirt, by the way."

He hadn't even thought about it when he got dressed, really, but he feels like wearing a shirt with their current representative's logo on it is definitely going to earn him points in Lily's book. She's definitely raved about her at work on more than one occasion.

"Thanks," he grins. "It's always a bit of a risk wearing a political shirt on a first date, you know."

"Oh, shut up," she returns his smile, shoving his shoulder playfully. "Don't act like you haven't heard me going on about my political opinions for ages now. You aren't exactly risking me storming out of here because you're a Democrat."

"Fair enough. I had a bit of an advantage going into this one."

"It's the only advantage you're getting tonight," she tells him, "because I'm about to kick your ass in laser tag."

He raises an eyebrow at her. "Are you, Evans?"

"Absolutely, Potter," she replies, stepping forward so that they're almost chest-to-chest.

He's close enough that he can smell her perfume, and really, all he'd have to do at this point is lean down a little bit and he'd be kissing her. And fuck, when she's looking at him with that hint of a challenge in her eyes, it's pretty damn hard to ignore that particular potentiality.

But before he can successfully talk himself in or out of anything, Lily spins on her heel, almost hitting him in the face with her ponytail in the process.

"Come on," she calls, not even turning around to look at him. "The game awaits."

He snaps out of his Lily-induced trance and follows after her, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "So, what's at stake here?"

"At stake?"

"What's the point of a competition if there isn't some sort of prize involved?" he replies.

"Touché." She thinks on it for a moment. "How about… loser buys dinner?"

"You're on," James answers, realising that this is the second time in a 24-hour window that he's made some sort of bet. "But exclusively monetary bets are boring, we need to make this more fun - loser also has to make a public announcement of their inferiority at the precinct tomorrow."

Lily turns her head toward him, looking surprised for the briefest of moments. "You've got yourself a deal. I can't wait to watch you make a fool of yourself tomorrow."

James scoffs at that. "Please. I make a fool of myself every day. Still going to beat you at this."

She laughs at that, and James quite honestly feels pretty proud of how far he's come in just ten hours. Yes, she's still laughing at him just like she did this morning, but now it's because he made her laugh, not because he'd just stuck his foot in his mouth.

They pay for nine rounds each, get suited up with vests and guns that are essentially smaller replicas of the real versions they normally wear, and are set out into the darkened obstacle course. They're definitely the only two people here over the age of twenty, but James doesn't care much.

He is still a bit surprised that Lily's picked this location - it seems like something she might write off as childish - but he's not disappointed with the revelation either. If anything, her behavior tonight has made him like her even more.

They're both pretty decent at the game, consistently scoring at the top of their respective teams after each round - they've got a slight advantage over all the teenagers here given that they're actually trained to use guns and whatnot.

After eight rounds, they're at a perfect tie.

"What do you say we make up our own rules for this last round?" Lily asks, examining her laser gun and trying to look vaguely threatening.

"I wouldn't have put you as the type to go rogue," he jokes.

"We're not breaking any official game rules - I would never," she replies. "We're just making this sudden death."

James' massive competitive streak is instantly onboard. "I'm listening."

"Points are irrelevant. First person to take the other out wins."

He grins. "Perfect."

When they're both dumped into the obstacle course for their last round, they immediately head in opposite directions. James has his back to the wall at all times and takes corners carefully - even though this is a friendly competition, his heart is hammering in his chest just as much as it does when he's doing this for real.

They've been in there for five minutes before he catches his first sight of Lily - she's a full head taller than any of the pre-teen boys also playing this round with them and therefore very hard to miss.

Although that makes him an even easier target to identify than her, really. He's even taller than her, after all.

And it's apparent that she's seen him too, because she immediately ducks behind a wall, pointing her gun in his direction and firing aimlessly.

James isn't a complete amateur, so he dodges her random shots with ease. Instead, he goes about cornering her - he knows for a fact that the area she's hiding in is a dead end, and he has every intent of using that against her.

He's gotten himself plastered against the wall currently dividing them, fully prepared to aim at her the moment she tries to make a run for it. He gradually inches closer and closer to the gap in the wall - he's all but got her trapped at this point.

He's about to round the corner and fire when -

"Oh! James!"

He falters for just a moment, trying to decipher her tone, and that moment of hesitation is where he makes his mistake.

In a matter of seconds, he's flat on his back, Lily straddling him and aiming her gun at his chest.

"I win, Potter," she says, before pulling the trigger and making his vest go dead.

It'll turn back on in about thirty seconds, because their sudden death rules don't apply to the system powering these vests, but it's a loss on their terms nonetheless.

But weirdly enough, with Lily looking down at him with the most self-satisfied smirk ever, illuminated only by the red light coming off of her gun and vest, he can't really find it in himself to actually be all that disappointed.

He plays along with it nonetheless, feigning offense. "You played dirty, Evans."

She shrugs. "I like to call it creative gameplay."

"You just don't like that I had you cornered," he retorts, just as his vest comes back to life again.

Lily lazily shoots his vest again, just for the hell of it. "Please," she replies, rolling off of him and standing up, "I wasn't cornered."

"You're so ridiculously stubborn, you know that?" he says, laughing. "If that was a suspect, you would most definitely have called that being cornered."

"I am ridiculously stubborn, actually - I'm glad you've just now noticed. Now get up so we can go get food - I'm starving, and you're buying."

He pushes himself up off the ground - honestly, he's lucky this place is covered in mats, otherwise that tackle would've hurt a hell of a lot more - before answering her. "Oh, trust me, I've noticed for a while - do I need to remind you of the time you made Shacklebolt reprint the entire IT manual because you found a typo?"

"It changed the meaning of the sentence," she responds immediately. "It could've resulted in some fatal mistakes."

"Right, because someone is actually going to think they're meant to stick a headphone cord into an outlet because they read it in an old IT manual that's practically falling out of the binder it's in."

Lily raises her eyebrows at him challengingly. "You haven't hung around many of the beat cops then."

"See, but you assume people actually even read that manual to begin with though," he replies as they make their way out of the venue, passing by the preteens still firing amongst themselves.

"I read that manual," she says, unbuckling her vest and pulling it over her head.

"Yes, and you're a complete anomaly, Evans." He follows suit, hanging his gun and vest up on the wall. "Tell me, was there really anything in there that you didn't already know how to do?"

That one gives her pause, and in the light, James notices just how many strands of hair have escaped her ponytail. It's a little bit wild and every bit adorable.

"I - I'm sure there was something," she eventually insists.

"Whatever you say," he responds, smirking, because he knows he's won this one.

They go up the street to a hole-in-the-wall Thai restaurant - James had briefly considered taking her somewhere fancier, but it's late and they're both starving; plus, he knows for a fact that Lily has really strong feelings about red curry, and this place makes some of the best he's ever had.

He tells her as much when they walk in. "They make a bomb red curry here - you'll love it."

She looks at him oddly. "How do you know I'm getting red curry?"

Shit, shit, shit - does he sound like one of those douchebags who orders for their date now? "I just - I know you're picky about them. You're always talking about which places do it well."

"Oh," she says, sounding a bit surprised. "I guess I am."

They get seated, and that brief bout of awkwardness fades away as soon as it arrived - it appears that Lily didn't interpret his comment the way he'd feared she might've. He knows that if she did, she would've already walked right out the restaurant door by now.

Dinner goes by with ease; neither of them are really pretending to be anything they're not. They're just James and Lily, the same way they are at work or when they're at some sort of after-hours get-together, but this time, it's only the two of them.

James quite likes that particular change of pace.

"Fuck, this is good," Lily says when their food arrives. "As much as I hate admitting you're right about things, I commend you on your restaurant-picking skills."

He grins at that. "I've gotta be good for something, you know. And since laser tag apparently isn't it, finding good Thai food is my replacement superpower."

"That's not too shabby a superpower, honestly," she replies, before taking another bite.

"I mean, it wouldn't have been my first choice," he tells her, "but all the cool ones were apparently taken by actual superheroes. I got stuck with whatever was left."

That gets a small laugh out of her, although it's obvious she's trying to pretend she doesn't find it funny.

"What about you?" he adds. "If you could have any superpower, what would it be?"

She thinks on that for a moment, pushing a few errant strands of hair out of her face. "Invisibility."

"Why's that?"

"Well, first of all, it'd make work so much easier," she replies. "Instead of having to actually hide out, you can just be in plain sight and never get noticed. Plus, I dunno, I always liked the idea as a kid of being able to just disappear for a few hours with a book and not have anyone come take the book away from me."

It feels like there's a little more to that particular story than she's telling, but James doesn't want to push that particular envelope right now. "When Sirius and I were younger - like, elementary or middle school-aged, mind you - we used to pretend my dad's old cloaks made us invisible. We obviously weren't, but my parents played along the whole time and just acted really confused when we moved stuff around in the kitchen cabinets or whatnot."

Lily laughs at that. "Why does it not surprise me that you and Sirius were getting up to all sorts of troublesome shit even as kids?"

"Oh, trust me - we were even worse as kids."

She shudders at that - but it's very obviously faked. "I am so happy I didn't know you as a teenager then."

"If you think we're annoying now, you haven't seen anything. The principal at our high school still tells my mom how many grey hairs we apparently gave her. Also that if either Sirius or I ever have kids and move back to that school district, she's immediately retiring."

"And yet somehow you ended up a cop," she replies.

"Oh, we never broke the law or anything like that," he immediately defends. "We were… admittedly, kind of bullies to some of the kids that were constantly going around spouting racist shit - and I knocked a kid out once for calling Sirius a homophobic slur - but for the most part, it was just dumb shit like filling the hallway with solo cups or hiding a bunch of alarm clocks in the library."

Much to his surprise, she's got a softer look when he finishes his explanation. "I mean, that's the most justifiable reason for knocking someone out, honestly."

James shrugs. "It wasn't my finest moment, really. I still didn't really have a grip on my own sexuality at that point, really - not to mention that Sirius is basically my brother - and the combination of both of those things and that word just resulted in me flying into an uncontrollable rage. I don't regret the first punch, but I regret a number of the ones that came after."

Lily just hums in response to that, and he hopes it's a hum of approval rather than one of distaste.

She opens her mouth to say something, but they're interrupted by the arrival of the check. The waiter wordlessly places in in front of James before walking away, and James already knows Lily's going to have words about that as soon as she's out of earshot.

She does, in fact, prove his predictions correct. "God, like, I know that you're paying because you lost, but are we really still in the 1950s here? Are we really still assuming that there's no way that maybe I'm the one paying the bill?"

"We're living in a society bound by patriarchal norms, Evans," James replies, getting his wallet out of his pocket and sliding his card into the envelope. "I'm obviously the only one capable of being the breadwinner here."

He gives her a wry grin. "Honestly, I really should let you pay the bill - you are about to be making significantly more money than me, after all. That makes you the breadwinner in this situation, really."

"Absolutely not," she replies. "Absurdly sexist assumptions aside, I tackled you for a free dinner and I fully intend on cashing in on that."

"As you should," he tells her, just as the waiter comes back by and picks up the check.

Once he's paid and tipped properly - Lily hadn't been shy about ensuring he'd tipped at least 20% - they walk out of the restaurant.

"I can call us a Lyft back to your place?" James offers when they get outside, and it's only when Lily gives him a disbelieving look that he realises the error in what he's said.

Foot, meet mouth: round… probably like seventy-something at this point.

"I just meant," he quickly amends, "I only live like five blocks from you, so I figured it'd be cheaper if we just rode together and I walked the rest of the way back."

Lily's expression loses its edge. "Oh. Yeah, that makes sense." When James pulls out his phone, she's quick to tack on, "But I'm paying you back for half. I didn't win anything this time."

James just laughs a little at that. "Sure."

As much as he'd be happy to pay for the full fare, he knows that she will stubbornly insist on paying her half until she's blue in the face, and it's not really the type of thing worth actually arguing about.

Their ride shows up, and they fall into a comfortable sort of silence on the ride home; it's not the sort of thing that feels necessary to break, so James embraces it, sneaking little glances at Lily every so often, watching the lights from outside briefly illuminate her face.

She catches his eye when he does it one time, and smiles softly, like they're sharing some sort of secret between the two of them.

It does things to his stomach that it absolutely shouldn't.

In a much shorter amount of time than he would've liked, they're pulling up to Lily's apartment building. They both get out of the car, and as their driver pulls away, James finds himself automatically turning to face Lily, as if she's got some sort of magnetic pull over him.

"This was fun," he tells her, fully aware that they're much closer now than they've been for most of the night. "We should do it again sometime."

"Tomorrow?" she asks, with just a hint of mischief in her eyes.

"Damn, tomorrow doesn't work," James replies, feigning disappointment. "I'm supposed to be doing some sort of stakeout thing with one of my coworkers, and she's a bit of a rule-follower, you see, so I don't think she'd be too pleased to find out I was abandoning her to go on laser tag dates."

Lily hums, as if considering this. "That's true - you wouldn't want to disappoint her."

"No, I definitely wouldn't," he says, taking stock of the fact that they're now so close that they're practically touching.

They stay like that for just half a second, teetering on the edge of something, before James takes the leap and breaks the mounting tension between them. "I'm going to kiss you, if that's alright."

Lily gives the tiniest of nods, and that's the exact answer James needs to close what's left of the space between them and put his lips on hers.

And if Lily's smiles did things to his stomach, her kisses go straight to his head. It was only meant to be a quick thing - a soft goodbye gesture - but the way that Lily's arms almost immediately wrap around his neck and her fingers slide into the hair at the nape of his neck suggests that while this kiss may be many things,'quick' is most definitely not among them.

His hands instantly find her waist, pulling her into him even tighter than before. The intensity very quickly ratchets up a few levels, and soon enough he's got her back against the brick wall of her building, doing his best to memorise the feeling of her lips and the way her body molds so perfectly into his.

This is so much more than a simple goodnight kiss - this is pure electricity between the two of them that he both wasn't expecting and is somehow entirely unsurprised by. It's Lily, of course, how could he have expected it to be anything other than fucking amazing, but fucking hell.

Were it not for the very pointed coughs of a few passersby, he would very happily stay in this exact position for the rest of his goddamn life.

But he takes the hint from the people walking by, and forces himself to pull back. And he very quickly adds this moment to the list of things he wants to memorise, because Lily's flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes in the dimly lit street are a masterpiece he never wants to forget.

Lily takes a few moments to get her bearings, as if kissing him had quite literally made her forget where she was. He feels oddly proud of that.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then," she says after a moment, dropping her arms from their place around his neck and immediately digging into her crossbody bag to retrieve her keys.

"See you tomorrow, Lily," he replies, giving her a dumb half-wave before turning and walking down the street.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't spent the entire five-block walk home with a little extra spring in his step, or if he acted like he was able to wipe the slightly-dopey grin off his face until a full ten minutes after he got home, or if he pretended like he didn't spend at least fifteen minutes telling his cat exactly how well his date went.

He falls asleep feeling about a million times more confident about winning this bet than he did when he woke up this morning.

DAY TWO

In contrast, Lily wakes up on the second day of the bet feeling much less confident than she did on day one.

She really thought she'd shown off some of her worst traits yesterday - all under the guise of a sweet date, but still enough to at least create some sort of hesitation in James - but it seems that nothing of the sort was accomplished.

After the overly flirtatious beginning, which clearly just about stunned the pants off of him at first, she went about subtly showing off some of her 'worst' traits - that is, the ones that previous boyfriends had always had issues with. She got onto him for how he organised (or didn't organise) his emails, she took complete control of both asking him out and planning the entire date, and she'd picked something that showed off how ruthlessly competitive she was.

None of those things - overly nitpicky, dominant, competitive - are ever seen as remotely positive traits in a woman. (Which is perhaps an issue of ingrained societal gender norms and expectations, but that's an issue for another time. She can address that particular issue when her pride isn't on the line.)

And yet, when he'd kissed her at the end of the night, it was with so much affection and fervor that Lily still gets a little dizzy just thinking about it. She can't remember the last time a first kiss with a guy sent that much warmth through her veins - if it ever did.

But, she supposes, it was only the first date. Everyone experiences a first date in rose-coloured glasses from time to time. There's still nine other days to prove to him just how incompatible they really are.

Of course, there's also the totally separate fact that last night also showed her a totally different side of James than she'd expected to see - the type that owned up to his past mistakes, that kept up with her constant teasing and gave it back just as good, that surprised her again and again.

It was really his perceptiveness that got to her - the way he'd clearly caught onto some of her habits over the years, like always ordering a large iced coffee the morning after a night out or always getting red curry at Thai restaurants. It's just the tiniest of red flags that maybe, just maybe, her original theory surrounding James' crush on her was wrong.

And she well and truly enjoyed herself last night. It easily earned a spot in one of her top five best first dates of all time, which is such a concerning thing considering her whole goal here is to get James to dump her.

All of these thoughts are just wildly buzzing around her head as she makes herself a cup of tea, making it completely impossible to have anything close to a nice, calming morning.

And she'd really been hoping for one of those - between the inevitable grilling she's going to get from Marlene (as Mary listens in but acts entirely nonchalant about it) at work and the fact that she's going to be on a stakeout until god knows when tonight, a moment of peace would've been nice preparation for all of that.

But no, her stupid brain can't even manage that much.

Lily's normally rather proud of her Type A, borderline-perfectionist tendencies; but right now, when her brain is doing that thing where it thinks itself into a never-ending spiral, not so much.

Once she's finished her tea and gotten dressed - doing up all the buttons this time - she leaves for work.

She lives walking distance from the 73rd precinct - she's always loved being able to make the trek to and from work on foot when the weather allows it, and it's something she's going to miss at her new position, where she'll likely have to take the subway up a few stops or get used to calling a Lyft every time.

And sure, she could move, but why would she want to? Her apartment is honestly kind of perfect, and she's close to all of her friends. And James.

Not that that last one will matter much after she wins this bet, but it pops into her brain nonetheless.

When she gets to the precinct, most of her co-workers haven't arrived yet. That's pretty standard, really - Lily's normally one of the earliest to get there in the mornings. Yesterday was the obvious exception, but that's because the line at Dunkin was bordering on absurd and Lily needed that extra dose of caffeine and sugar.

Peter's already at his desk, and when he sees that Lily's walked into the room, he practically lights up. "Good morning, Lily!" he says cheerily, opening his mouth again as if to add something else before thinking better of it.

He probably wants to ask about her date with James, but has decided to wait until more people are here.

Bet aside, this is why she's had her rule against dating coworkers for so long. She doesn't need her workplace - where she's supposed to be talked about for her work - to be littered with gossip about her love life.

She can only hope that no one judges her too much for this thing with James - especially Captain Dumbledore, heaven forbid, because she cares more about his opinion of her than she cares to admit.

Drunk Lily was definitely a bit of an idiot to have made this bet in the first place (for a number of reasons), but it's too late to back out of anything now.

The remainder of her coworkers gradually trickle in, and Lily makes a pointed effort to not make eye contact with any of them. She knows it's an avoidance tactic that's destined for failure, but it doesn't stop her from trying anyways.

The only arrival she does look up for is James, and she's actually a bit surprised by the small herd of butterflies that take up residence in her stomach when she makes eye contact with him.

It's ridiculous, really - she doesn't suddenly have real feelings for a guy she's previously only been marginally attracted to all because of one date. That's not how things are supposed to work.

"Morning, Evans," he says, grinning at her as he takes his seat.

"Good morning, Potter," she replies, although what she'd expected to come out in a purely professional tone sounds decidedly warmer.

There's a distinct sound of office chair wheels speeding across the tile floor, but even that isn't enough warning when Sirius comes careening into her desk.

"So, Prongs and my dearest Lily," Sirius says, splaying his hands out dramatically so that one hand rests on James' desk and one hand rests on Lily's, "which one of you is going to give me all the juicy details about your night last night?"

"Neither of us," James responds immediately, which is yet another surprise to Lily. She would've thought, given his show-offy tendencies, that he would immediately want to brag about how well their date went.

Unless… he doesn't think it went as well as she did?

Which should, theoretically, feel like a win, because it would mean she's actually in a better place in this bet than she thought, but she feels a knot of worry form in her stomach nonetheless.

The silence from both of them seems to only egg Sirius on further. "Based on the lack of reply," he reasons, "things either went really well or really terrible. And given that you're both still talking to each other, I'm inclined to go with the former, but then again, maybe it's all a front? I'm going to need some official confirmation either way."

"Pads, give the poor folks a break," Remus calls out from his desk.

Sirius spins to face him, frowning. "Don't be a buzzkill, Moony. Don't you want to know how their date went?"

"Obviously," Remus replies. "But you're not going to get information out of them like that - are you forgetting absolutely everything you know about interrogation tactics?"

"So what you're saying is we need to lock them in a room somewhere until they answer me?"

"I've got an extra set of handcuffs!" Peter chimes in.

At that, Lily turns to glare at him. "Pettigrew, if you even think about handcuffing me, so help me god I will cut your hands off."

Peter mimes surrender at that, clearly not wanting to test Lily's ire any further.

"Come on, just tell us how it went and we'll all leave you alone," Marlene says, joining in on the conversation and making Lily feel very, very surrounded.

"Did you at least kiss?" Sirius tacks on.

Lily feels a telltale heat creep up her cheeks at that - because oh, did they kiss - and she knows it's all over at that.

"You did!" Sirius exclaims triumphantly. And then he seems to realise something, because he looks across the pit to someone totally different. "Shacklebolt! You hear that? Evans and Prongs kissed, and they're still stakeout partners."

"Padfoot…" James says warningly, probably worried that this is going to result in the two of them getting split up.

But Kingsley doesn't react that way at all. "They did?" he asks with a clear tone of excitement, before clearing his throat and sounding much more serious. "They did. Well, given that they have no past record of doing it on the job, I see no problem with them continuing to be partners. You and Lupin's record, on the other hand, isn't quite as clean."

"Aw, c'mon," Sirius whines, before being noticeably elbowed in the side by Remus.

"Let's not interfere in this," the other man says softly, with a look in his eyes suggesting there's a deeper meaning behind his words. "Besides, I've already done my late-night shift for the week anyways, and I'd quite like to keep my Friday night free."

Sirius pouts a little at that, but shuts up anyways.

"What on earth are all of you piddling about for?" their captain's voice rings out over the precinct. "Stop crowding Potter and Evans' desks and get back to your own work."

"But Captain," Peter interjects, "we're just trying to find out more about - "

"As thrilling as these two's personal lives may be to the rest of you, I can assure you that neither of them want to talk about it right now," Dumbledore replies, and Lily feels a rush of relief.

Dumbledore seemingly knows about her and James - it'd be hard not to, given how loud Sirius has been about it for the past ten minutes - and doesn't seem to care much.

Deep down, Lily kind of knew that would be the case; Dumbledore's a pretty objective captain, and is much more likely to judge a person based on the quality of their police work than on anything that might be going on outside of work hours, but she'd fretted about it nonetheless.

Despite his eccentricities and the fact that he's often damn near impossible to read, he's definitely one of Lily's role models. He's done a pretty incredible job running the precinct - even with Sirius, Remus, Peter, and James constantly getting up to stupid shit - and earning and maintaining his respect is one of the most important things in the world to her.

And as is often to happen when she cares a lot about something, she thinks way too far into it and worries about it at entirely unnecessary levels.

But Dumbledore's word in the precinct is law, so the four people clustered around her desk gradually roll their chairs back to their workspaces - although not without some audible grumbling about 'no fun.'

Almost as soon as that chaos in the precinct calms down, and everyone's gotten back to work at their own desks, a new form of chaos enters the office, in the form of an elevator ding and a tiny, stout woman wearing a pink headband with her captain's uniform.

Dolores Umbridge is the Deputy Chief of the NYPD and, in Lily's opinion, an absolute living nightmare.

And that take says a lot about Umbridge's character, because Lily has a natural deference to authority figures, so it takes quite a bit of horrific behavior for her to outwardly dislike someone who's got so much power over her.

Umbridge starts making a beeline for Captain Dumbledore's office.

"Do you have an appointment?" Marlene asks, but the question falls on deaf ears. Umbridge just opens the door to Dumbledore's office entirely without preamble, and closes it behind her before anyone can even see the captain's reaction, much less eavesdrop on the conversation.

It doesn't stop anyone from talking about it though.

"What do you think she wants?" James asks aloud.

"Probably trying to figure out another way to ruin our lives," Mary chimes in, sounding even more annoyed than usual.

"Or she's come up with yet another ridiculous PR stunt that our precinct just has to be the ones to run," Remus adds.

For some reason, any time the NYPD's PR department has come up with a promotional campaign involving 'real life cops,' Umbridge has come directly to the 73rd Precinct in pursuit of 'volunteers.'

It's an absurd concept, and any cop that participates is basically subjecting themselves to public ridicule - which is probably why Umbridge is so intent on making Dumbledore's precinct get involved.

They've got some sort of historical epic rivalry that goes all the way back to their training days.

But using stupid PR campaigns is never actually going to do anything helpful for the NYPD's reputation, in Lily's opinion, especially when leadership continues to ignore valid accusations of police brutality and pardon officers who have essentially committed homicide on the job.

No amount of posters with smiling officers and anecdotes about their dog is going to address the systematic failure of the organization to hold their employees responsible for their abuse of power.

"I refuse to participate again," James says stubbornly. "Someone graffiti'd a mustache onto my cat."

"Didn't they also draw a dick on your forehead?" Lily asks.

"Yeah, but I don't care about that," he replies. "But when you disrespect Godric, you've gone too far."

She giggles at that, because it's honestly kind of hilarious that he's more defensive of his cat's honor than his own.

"Regardless, these stupid PR campaigns always suck," Sirius says, putting his feet up on his desk. "And someone needs to tell Umbridge that before we get made fools of again."

"I think that's kind of the point though, Padfoot," Remus comments. "Although someone could do with telling the PR department that pitches these sorts of ideas that their ideas suck and nothing's going to change with public opinion until the department as a whole takes responsibility for their actions."

"Oh but why would we ever want to do that?" Marlene answers sarcastically. "That requires actual work,and it's just so much easier to stick a picture of me and my wife's dog in a subway station. Admittedly, I looked great in that picture, but my natural beauty is going to do fuck-all to fix their reputation."

"You guys know Umbridge can probably hear you, right?" Kingsley interrupts. "Captain Dumbledore's office isn't that soundproof."

"Good, I want her to hear how much she sucks," Mary answers.

Lily privately agrees, even though she hasn't actually participated in this conversation much.

It's weirdly perfect timing though, because Umbridge picks that exact moment to walk out of Dumbledore's office, a smug, self-satisfied grin on her toadlike features.

When Dumbledore walks out of his office, he looks decidedly uncomfortable - Lily can't help but wonder exactly what went down in that conversation that has him looking like that, because he's usually relatively unshaken by most anything.

"Umbridge has informed me that a few precincts will likely be undergoing remodeling efforts over the next few months, and our precinct is going to house their employees while the construction is underway," he announces to the room. "Meaning that we'll likely have to consolidate space to accommodate them and their desks."

"Enjoy the lack of personal space," Umbridge adds with a tone of artificial sweetness, before the elevator dings and she steps inside.

When the doors close, the precinct goes up in a storm of commentary - and Lily absolutely doesn't hold back this time.

"Why is she always like this?"

"I can't believe the nerve of that woman."

"It's absurd that she just gets to walk all over us out of personal vengeance."

"At least no one's drawing a mustache on my cat this time."

That last comment from James draws Lily out of her righteous anger, and she looks over at him.

He shrugs. "Hey, I'm just looking at the positives here."

"I'm suprised you're not more annoyed about this," she says. "You're not going to be able to just roll your chair around the pit anymore."

"Eh, I can still do it - I'll just hit more things. It's like a giant real-life game of pinball," he replies. "I'm surprised you're so annoyed by it - you're not even going to be here when this happens."

Shit - she'd almost forgotten about that. "It's the principle of the thing," she insists anyways. "It's ridiculous that she can abuse her power and wield it against people she harbors a personal vendetta against."

"Oh yeah no, that part's definitely absurd," James agrees.

The one bright side of Umbridge's unannounced arrival and announcement is that it gets pretty much everyone in the precinct to stop obsessing over James and Lily's date - it doesn't even dominate the conversation when Lily and Marlene walk up the street to grab lunch, when questions about her personal life are much more appropriate.

"I honestly can't decide who pisses me off more - Umbridge or Snape," Marlene says while they're waiting in line.

The Deputy Chief who likes making their lives a nightmare or the Major Crimes detective who insists on stealing their thunder whenever he can - it's a pretty tough decision, honestly.

"My vote's definitely on Snape," Lily replies. "At least Umbridge doesn't hit on me when she's trying to ruin my life."

"Oh god, I almost forgot about his thing for you," Marlene says, shuddering.

"You'd think he'd take a hint, but apparently not," Lily replies, thinking back to the numerous times Snape had blatantly made his fascination with her known.

It's awfully funny to her, in a twisted sort of way, that he somehow thinks she'd still be interested in him when he regularly tries to stab both her and the rest of her colleagues in the back.

"Well, maybe now that you're dating James, he'll leave you alone."

"I somehow doubt that would stop him," Lily reasons. "If anything, it'll probably just spurn him on. Not to mention, James and I aren't dating - or at least, we won't be for much longer."

"But you did kiss him," Marlene replies.

"I did." She pauses her conversation with Marlene to place her order, before jumping right back in where she'd left off. "Doesn't change the fact that I'm still going to win this bet."

"As both a neutral spectator to this bet and a person who is literally always right about these sorts of things, I can say with a lot of confidence that you are definitely not going to win this bet. James' heart eyes are even bigger this morning than they were yesterday."

Lily waves that off. "First dates are like that. We've still got nine days for things to go downhill."

That's the thing she's been repeating to herself all day, anyways. Nine days for James to realise she's not the one for him and for the stupid butterflies she gets whenever he looks at her to just die already.

Marlene rolls her eyes, clearly still convinced that she's right, but doesn't push the point any further. Instead, she starts off on a story about this past weekend, when she swears she and Dorcas saw Justin Timberlake in Soho.

Lily gets to go home early today - one of the side effects of doing a stakeout in the evening is that she's granted a half day in return.

She probably could benefit from taking a nap while she's home - she's going to be horrifically tired tomorrow morning if she doesn't - but she's also got a weird thing against midday naps and as a result, ends up showering, cleaning her apartment a bit, and reading a book instead.

On her way back to the police station, she grabs a pack of Red Bulls from a corner store and just accepts that she'll need half of them to get through tonight, and the other half to get through tomorrow.

Of course, when she gets there and walks around back to where the unmarked car they're taking to the stakeout tonight is parked, James is somehow there even earlier than she is.

"Do you know how unhealthy those are for you, Evans?" he asks with a smirk when she opens the car door. "And to think, you say my eating habits are bad."

She slides into the passenger seat and pops open one of the cans. "There's a difference between a couple energy drinks and putting Cheetos on a Cosmic Brownie."

"That was a dare," he insists. "I love both of those things individually, but I would never combine them of my own volition."

"You still ate it, that counts for something."

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn't eat that on a dare," he says, turning to face her. "If your honor was on the line, tell me you wouldn't eat some absurd food combination just to prove a point."

Given the absurd lengths she is currently going to in order to prove a point - though there's no food involved in this one - he's definitely one-hundred percent right in that assessment. "My honor isn't dependent on absurd food combinations."

"Right," James laughs, turning the car on. "I forget that you and your honor are above the rest of us mere mortals."

"Not above mortals," Lily corrects, "just above you, Sirius, Remus, and Peter."

James pauses in his attempt to back out of the police lot and puts a hand to his heart in mock offense. "So we're not even mortals anymore? What are we, some sort of goblin underling?"

"I mean, it would explain a lot," Lily teases. "You all sort of do resemble goblins, in a way."

James doesn't even look away from the road. "Are you calling me ugly, Evans? Because if so, I feel very personally attacked."

"So let me clarify, you're not offended when someone draws a dick on your forehead, but you are offended when someone insinuates that you look like a goblin?"

"Um, yes?" James replies. "How is telling someone they look like a goblin supposed to be the less offensive alternative to drawing a dick on a shitty NYPD PR photo of them?"

"Fair enough," Lily concedes. And then, because she feels like it's necessary to clarify, just in case he was actually offended, she adds, "You don't actually look like a goblin, by the way."

"That's probably the closest I'll get to a compliment from you, so I'll take it."

"Oh, shut it," she says, resisting the urge to jokingly shove him, because he's driving a car and that's not safe for anyone. "If I actually compliment you, it'll go straight to your already over inflated ego."

"If it's already over inflated, one extra compliment surely can't hurt that much?"

"Okay, now you're the one with the terrible logic," she argues. "That's like saying 'oh, if I continue to blow up an already over inflated balloon, there's nothing else bad that can happen, it definitely won't explode and hit me in the fucking face.' "

"Good point, Evans," he says. "We wouldn't want my ego to explode - that would get impossibly messy."

He cranes his head to parallel park the car across the street from the building they're meant to be watching, and the way he suddenly moves closer to her sends a waft of his cologne - or laundry detergent, or body wash, or something of his that smells impossibly tempting - towards her.

The suddenness of it immediately transports her back to last night, and the moments where she'd had him even closer - particularly, that kiss at the end of the night - and it takes more self control than it should to resist grabbing him by the collar and reprising the whole ordeal.

But they're here on business, and they're not Sirius and Remus and therefore aren't going to make out in a cop car while they're meant to be watching a potential crime scene, so Lily restrains that particular impulse.

James gets the car parked with relative ease; Lily's actually impressed at that, because she's still absolutely awful at parallel parking.

"What does an exploded ego even look like, anyways?"

He snorts. "Ask Snape?"

"Hmm, I wouldn't quite call Snape's that," Lily comments. "I think it's the opposite - why else would he overcompensate so much?"

"Why else would he overcompensate so much: title of Snape's sex tape," James replies immediately.

Lily can't suppress her giggle at that. 'Title of your sex tape' jokes are James' own version of those 'that's what she said' type lines, and while Lily probably shouldn't find that type of crude humor all that funny, she does nonetheless.

"Eugh, if Snape has a sex tape, I really hope I never, ever have to know about its existence."

"Likewise," James agrees.

They settle into easy conversation - it's not entirely unlike last night, except instead of sitting at a table for two in a Thai restaurant, they're in a parked car outside of a warehouse.

There should be all sorts of bells going off in Lily's head about how this isn't going even remotely sour, and that she needs to be trying harder to make him dislike her, but the ringing of those alarms is somehow entirely offset by the fact that she's just genuinely enjoying his presence.

"Tell me something I probably don't know about you," he says suddenly.

"What?"

"I feel like I've talked about myself a lot recently. I mean, you basically got my whole high school detention record last night; now it's your turn."

"Well, and I'm sure you won't find this surprising at all," she tells him, "I didn't get detention once in high school."

James laughs. "Somehow, I entirely expected that."

"High school me never would've expected to be working in the NYPD though," she adds, figuring that she might as well tack on something at least somewhat more surprising. "I actually wanted to be a chemist for a while; my chemistry teacher in high school adored me, and really wanted me to go the whole PhD route."

"Why'd you change your mind?"

"I realised just how expensive it'd be to be in school for that long," she replies. "And my mom got really sick my senior year of high school, and all my college savings went towards that instead."

It's not usually a story she finds herself telling very much, but she's weirdly okay with divulging this information to him.

"So I went to community college just long enough to get my associate's degree, and joined the NYPD from there - it seemed like the most impactful career I could have without needing to put myself in an extreme amount of debt."

James is looking at her, but not in the pitying way she might've expected from him. She knows that he comes from money, and that can sometimes color how people react to her story.

People who grew up comfortable often don't understand that there's a world in which both of those things - a college education and life-saving healthcare - aren't just assumed. When you're wealthy, you don't know what it's like to choose between your child's education and your wife's health - but it's the choice Lily's father had to make, and while she knows he made the right one, she still sees the regret in his eyes every once in a while when it's brought up that Lily didn't get a four-year degree. And James could never know what any of that's like.

But he doesn't actually say any of the things she'd presumed he might say. He takes her reality at face value, and doesn't question it.

"And now look at you," he says instead, with a wry sort of grin on his face, "destined to run the NYPD someday."

"I don't know about that…" Lily replies modestly, even though she would love nothing more than to reach that top office one day.

"I do," James responds. "You'd make a brilliant commissioner."

She almost wants to kiss him for that alone.

"Well, thank you," she says. "I suppose it's proof that sometimes things that feel like the end of the fucking world at the time sometimes work out in your favor."

"I can toast to that, Evans," he says, picking up his Coke bottle from the cupholder and clinking it against her Red Bull.

As soon as he puts his drink back down, she switches course. "So, tell me something I probably don't know."

"Hmm," he replies thoughtfully. "Well, despite you ribbing me about my food choices, I'm actually a pretty good cook - especially when it comes to Indian food."

That's actually relatively unexpected. "Oh really?"

"Yes really," he insists. "Better than most of the Indian places around here, if I do say so myself - my mum taught me a number of her recipes over the years."

She hums. "You'll have to show me sometime."

"Tomorrow?" he replies immediately, before fumbling his words a little bit. "I mean, yeah - I could just, if you wanted to come over to my place after work tomorrow, I could cook you dinner?"

She's a little taken aback by how quickly he'd offered, but she's honestly all too happy to spend more time with him - she's breaking all of her typical rules by spending this much time with a guy right when they've just started dating, but she just… really enjoys his presence.

Oh yeah, and the bet thing too. Seeing more of him is good for the bet thing too.

"Yeah, I'd like that," she says.

He grins at that. "I'm glad you're not sick of me yet - fuck, we've got movement."

Lily follows James' eyes to see that, sure enough, there's a van that's just pulled up outside the warehouse. Both the driver and passenger side doors open simultaneously, revealing a short man in a suit and a woman with wildly curly hair dressed in leggings and an oversized sweatshirt.

Lily immediately reaches to the gun sitting against her hip, checking that it's still there.

When the pair go into the building, that's her and James' cue to get out of the car. They do their best to do so casually - who knows if there's still a third person (or more) in the van, and they'd very much not like to blow their cover immediately.

It's a bit hard to entirely miss the bulletproof vests and guns on both of their hips once they get closer, but a few seconds of anonymity could very well be their saving grace.

They cross the street in relative silence - the only words they exchange are to confirm that Lily's going after the guy in the suit and James is in charge of catching the woman. Lily also takes a peek into the van when she gets close enough to see inside the windows, and at first glance, there doesn't appear to be anyone laying in wait.

The two people emerge from the building just a few moments later, the man holding a briefcase in one hand that he definitely didn't have when he walked in.

"NYPD, freeze!" Lily yells, pulling her gun out of its holster.

But because these things are never that easy, neither one of them actually freezes. Lily and James each go for their respective targets; the man, who's also got that briefcase of his to attend to, is noticeably slower, which very quickly results in Lily getting him on the ground.

It's not entirely unlike the maneuver she's used to get James down yesterday.

She immediately gets the man in handcuffs, and grabs the briefcase as well. Her heart is pounding in her ears as she goes through his Miranda rights - it always is, in these sorts of situations - and it's waking her up more than any Red Bull ever could.

That attuned sense of hearing means that she very distinctly hears the sound of breaking glass inside the warehouse, and immediately starts to wonder what the hell that could mean.

About a minute later, James reappears, out of breath and alone. "She had a getaway car waiting out back," he informs Lily.

"The dirty bitch didn't even tell me about that," the man in handcuffs mutters angrily. "Second in command and I don't even get to know the escape plans."

Lily's actually a bit taken aback by the revelation that he's not the one in charge. It's probably the massive difference in the way the two of them were dressed (and maybe something with her socialized biases causing her to automatically assume the man was in charge), but she really wouldn't have pinned the woman in the oversized hoodie as the one running this whole operation.

Of course, Lily still has no idea what this whole operation actually is anyways.

But that's what the person they've just arrested is for, hopefully. It remains to be seen if they'll be able to get him to talk.

"What's in the case?" James asks, grabbing onto the briefcase and following Lily's lead as she starts to bring their suspect back to the car.

"I'm not telling you that," he responds.

So it seems he's one of the stubborn ones. "We'll just be able to unlock it when we get back to the station, you know," Lily says.

The man still remains silent on the subject.

"What's your name?" James tries again.

"I'm not telling you that either," he reiterates stubbornly. "The pretty one told me I don't have to say anything without an attorney present."

"Huh, I don't remember saying that," James muses, looking over at Lily with a glint in his eye.

She can't help but quirk a smile at that, even if they are on the job right now. "Would you look at that, your ego exploded even without my assistance," she comments mildly, as she guides their suspect into the backseat of the car.

"It was a ticking timebomb, I guess," he replies, getting into the driver's seat and putting the briefcase over on Lily's side.

Backup arrives on the scene almost as soon as they're both in the car, and they take over searching the van. There's some pretty intense surveillance equipment and a number of illegal weapons - the second part is a godsend, in a weird sort of way, because it means they've got at least one charge on him and don't have to end up racing against the clock to investigate the contents of the case or interrogate him. They can push both of those things off until tomorrow morning and actually get some proper sleep tonight.

The ride back to the precinct is a bit quieter and less playful than the one on the way over - there's only so much teasing you can pull off when you've got a suspected criminal and apparent second-in-command to some sort of unknown crime operation seated behind you.

When they get back to the station, James takes on the task of bringing their suspect up to one of the holding cells, and Lily takes the case down the the evidence lockers. They'll deal with both of these things in the morning, but for now, it's well past midnight and they've successfully caught at least one part of the pair that's likely responsible for all those bodega robberies and god knows what else.

That's quite enough work for one day.

She runs into James again while she's waiting on the ground floor for a Lyft to show up; she may live walking distance from the precinct, but making that trek in the daylight is massively different from making that same trek at nearly one in the morning, and a car ride home feels like the much safer option here.

"Good work tonight, Evans," he says, walking up next to her.

"You as well."

He runs one of his hands through his hair, before asking, "So… do you actually want to come to my place for dinner tomorrow?"

"I said yes, didn't I?" she replies, nudging him with her shoulder.

"Well, yeah but I didn't know if - I don't know, maybe you'd changed your mind?"

She looks over at him, a bit taken aback to discover that he actually looks serious about it. And she's confused by it - why would she be the one to change her mind in this situation?

He's the one that's meant to eventually get sick of her, anyways.

"I haven't changed my mind," she reassures him.

His expression melts into something akin to relief. "Oh. Good, I'm looking forward to it then."

"Me too."

She realises that they've somehow moved to face each other over the course of this exchange, and for the second time tonight, she's all-too-tempted to go for a revival of last night.

She almost goes for it this time too, shifting her weight to the balls of her feet as if to pop up on her tiptoes to kiss him - because he's so close and somehow still smells so good despite literally chasing down a criminal earlier tonight - but she's stopped at the last minute by the lights that come streaming into the front windows of the station.

"Shit, uh, fuck, that's my ride," she says, immediately doing her best to collect herself. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah? Both, uh, at work in the morning and at your place tomorrow night."

Now it's her turn to sound like a nervous wreck, apparently.

But instead of calling her out on her sudden awkwardness, he just smiles at her. "See you tomorrow, Evans."

She spends the entire ride home trying to tell her brain to get it together, for fuck's sake. She's supposed to be showing him why they're incompatible, not fucking collapsing into a puddle every time he looks at her with that silly glint in his eyes.

She'll get her shit together tomorrow.

Maybe.