#i am well aware that this doesn't answer the question of what newt's doing but

[aethelar]

Your count of Monte Cristo is killing meeeee. It's so good and so angsty :(( what's happening with newt?!? Newton my boi y r u like dis. Save your babies and smooch percival, not grigri :(

@townseleven replied to your post “So: The Count of Monte Cristo AU. Last we saw him, Graves clawed his…”

okay so I guess the question I have now is who are the Goldsteins in this au??

Count of Monte Cristo: Interlude

It went like this:

Newt was an author. He hadn’t yet published his first book but the drafts were almost done - notebooks of scribbles arrayed in something approaching order, messy field sketches inked on clean boards and waiting to be painted. He fell in love with Graves, too fast and too breathlessly and too impatient to wait. In the middle of the night he laughed and said, You could propose with a piece of string and you know I’ll say yes.

In the middle of another night he was jolted out of his editing by a frantic rattle at his window.

Help, the patronus said in Tina’s voice. It’s wings beat furiously to keep it hovering in place for a second before it wheeled round, trilling for him to follow. Newt grabbed his wand and threw a coat over his striped pyjamas but he was halfway down the street before he noticed he was barefoot. By the time he made it to the church his feet were painfully numb and the rest of him wasn’t far behind; the coat was warm but the thin flannel under it was not.

“Hey,” he said, shrugging his coat off anyway and wrapping it round Credence’s huddled form. “Hey, it’s ok. Let’s get you somewhere warm, shall we?”

Credence stared up at him, eyes wide behind the bruises and shoulders hunched in defence. He didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t, not for a while still, and Newt would sit on the table with him and swing his legs and teach him what he knew of makaton sign - this is hungry, Credence, you’re allowed to tell me if you’re hungry and I always want to know. This is eat and this is want and this is no, and I promise never to get angry if you tell me no, ok? And watch, Credence, this is a fun one - you say snail like this. Look, see the eye stalks? It uses them to smell with.

But Credence didn’t know makaton when Newt first held out his hand and asked permission to take him away; he stared at the strange man shivering in his pyjamas and he huddled back in the coat that was nicer than anything he’d ever been given and he squinted at the man’s gentle smile as though he could see the truth of the universe hiding behind it.

Eventually, solemnly slow and with great deliberation, he nodded. He left the church balanced on the man’s hip with his arm a steady weight against his back and by the time they slipped through Mr Newt’s front door and into his cluttered apartment he’d decided: Mr Newt was nice, and Credence loved him.

Newt gave him warm milk and warm blankets, transfigured a trunk into a bed and nudged aside a napping niffler to make space for the pillows. He tucked Credence in and stayed close but he didn’t drop a kiss on his forehead, not yet. Trust took time to build and as much as Credence liked him, Newt knew better than to push.

“You’re a good man, Newt,” Queenie said, peering through the fire at Credence’s sleeping form. “Sorry to bring you into this.”

“Don’t be daft,” Newt told her. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Besides, I could hardly leave him there. I don’t think he even had a proper bed, and he’s skinnier than a mooncalf. What happened?”

She pulled a face. “I don’t know all of it, Tina’s been keeping quiet. She’s been trying to get him out of that house for weeks though; his mum’s a Salemite and with Credence’s magic…” Newt’s stomach turned. He didn’t need Queenie to explain. “The department’s been blocking her though, saying it’s nothing do with the aurors and she’ll get fired if she keeps interfering.”

“Fired?” he repeated, shocked. His gaze flicked over to Credence and he fought the urge to tuck the blanket in tighter around him in the transfigured trunk-bed. Inaction was one thing, but to actively try to prevent Tina from helping a child who needed it - that couldn’t be right.

Queenie nodded miserably. “Weird things been going on at work. Even I notice it and I just bring them coffee. Graves not say anything to you?”

“Not outright - he doesn’t want me to worry. I thought he was just stressed about the ICW conference.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll ask him when he gets back. Maybe we can help.”

“Don’t you dare, Scamander,” Queenie scolds. “He’ll have enough sprung on him with being a dad all of a sudden, don’t go dragging him into our mess as well, you hear? Tina and I are fine, and we’ll be finer if we know that Credence is safe with you.”

Newt’s laugh was only slightly strangled, a quiet huff of breath careful not to wake Credence. “A dad,” he repeated. “God Queenie, I can’t wait for him to come home. He’ll love him, I know he will - a dad.” He smiled helplessly, and as alarming as Queenie’s news was it was impossible to stay worried when he thought of Graves. “He’ll be a dad, Queenie. Me and Graves, we’ll be the best parents. I promise.”

“I know you will,” Queenie said, confident and fond. She tilted her head and blew a kiss, and the fire flared green and died down to a settled glow. Newt gave into the urge to add another gentle warming charm to Credence’s blanket and flipped his notebook open to a new page to work out a shopping trip for the morning.

“A dad,” he whispered to himself as his pencil scratched over the paper. The niffler crawled up to his lap, nosing under his pyjama top and curling up in the warmth there. “Guess I’m mum for real now,” he told her, running a gentle hand down her back. “Mummy Newt and Daddy Graves. I can’t believe - he’ll be so happy.”

The news came three days later. Percival Graves was being arrested for treason. MACUSA had reason to believe that he or his associates would pose a threat to Newt and were assigning him a permanent guard until the situation could be resolved.

“Gellert Grindelwald,” the man at the door introduced himself. He smiled, polite and slightly lopsided, and held out a hand for Newt to shake. “I know this is difficult for you both,” he said, “but I’m here for anything you need.”