#percival graves gifs | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

defectivevillain · 2 years ago

Text

by your side

pairing: percival graves x reader

reader’s pronouns: unspecified but masc-intended

warnings: mentions of blood and injury, fainting

You’re starting to suspect that Director Graves thinks you to be incompetent.

It all starts in the halls of MACUSA’s Department of Magical Law Enforcement [as most things do]. You’re minding your own business, filling out some paperwork, when a sudden crash sounds. You quickly get up from your desk and run out to the hallway, only mildly surprised to see several Aurors. They evidently just Apparated back from their mission. Admittedly, they look to be in a pretty bad state.

“We need backup,” one of the Aurors manages to say, as they lead another Auror down the hall with their arm slung around their shoulder. There’s blood seeping from their robes, tinting their skin red. You’re quick to get the details from another Auror before Apparating there yourself. From what you’d heard, some Grindelwald sympathizers are fighting back against the initial group of Aurors.

The moment you appear, you have to dodge spellfire. There’s nothing but chaos. You cast a few haphazard shields and look around for any of the other Aurors. There are a few scattered about, but they look outnumbered.

As you fight, you make sure not to use lethal spells—despite your knowledge that the wizards casting at you definitely are. You take a deep breath and spin around, just barely dodging a curse that hurtles at you. Despite your speed, you’re beginning to be surrounded. You try your best to defend yourself, but it’s nearly impossible to do so with the opposition of several different people. A wayward curse barrels towards you and you’re not fast enough to dodge it. Pain shoots through you and you fall to the ground. Shadows creep across your vision and you blearily look up to the sky. Eventually, you succumb to the rather powerful exhaustion that pulls at your core.

You dazedly register someone leaning over you. Their face is entirely blurry and all you can make out are deep brown eyes and dark hair. The person brings a hand to your cheek and their lips move, but you can’t hear what they’re saying. Your ears are ringing and your eyelids sting with the exertion of staying awake. You’re shaken a bit roughly by the shoulders, but by then, your eyes are closed and you’re unconscious.

The next time you wake, there are pins and needles shooting through your arm. You try to lift your arm, only to find that it’s weighed down. You squint in confusion. It takes a moment for you to process what’s happening. It seems that you’re in St. Mungo’s. Your arms are bandaged and your entire body feels incredibly stiff. It’s only then that you realize why your arm is hurting. Director Graves is draped over your arm, his head rested on his arms as he.... well, you’re not quite sure what he’s doing here. You tap him on the shoulder and he jolts awake, looking incredibly startled until he meets your eyes.

“You’re awake,” the director remarks, a strange sense of relief almost invading his voice. You squint at him in confusion. You must be dreaming. That’s the only explanation for why the Director of Magical Law Enforcement is sitting next to your hospital bed.

“Why-” You try to say, only for a cough to crawl out of your dry throat. Graves is quick to get you a glass of water, which you drink greedily. It takes you a moment to collect your thoughts, before you start again. “Why are you here?”

“How are you feeling?” the director asks. You level him with an unimpressed gaze. Graves doesn’t react. You shake your head in disbelief, fully aware that he didn’t even bother to answer the question.

“I’m fine,” you reply habitually. Your entire body is aching and stiff, but it’s not an unbearable pain. You've regained control of your right arm too, thankfully. You try to push yourself up to a sitting position, but your arms are too shaky to provide much support. Graves levels you with an accusatory glare that you promptly ignore.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” the director remarks. You don’t quite know what to say to that, so you remain silent. Evidently, there’s something else the director wants to say, but he doesn’t voice it. Instead, Graves sighs and crosses one leg over the other. He makes no move to leave. Your heart starts to race.

“Now, rest,” the director commands. “That’s a direct order from your commanding officer.” You roll your eyes and fall into the pillow at your back. You stare up at the ceiling resolutely, not wanting to go to sleep. The universe seems to have other plans for you, however. The last thing you register is the brief press of lips to your forehead before you’re drifting off.

The rest of your hospital stay isn’t nearly as... intriguing. You don’t get any more visitors—least of all Director Graves—and you’re discharged within two days. The nurse firmly orders you to stay out of the field for a week and you sigh.

During the ensuing days, you’re incredibly bored. You still go to work, but you’re confined to your desk and a seemingly infinite stack of paperwork. The week passes and, on the eighth day, you’re extremely excited to return to normal work. Safe to say, you aren’t anticipating the continued influx of paperwork.

At first, you think it must be coincidence. You’ve always been assigned paperwork sporadically throughout the year. However, as the days pass and you continue to be assigned paperwork and nothing else, you start to suspect that something’s wrong. Ultimately, it takes another week of zero fieldwork for you to lose patience and walk over to Graves’s office.

Before you know it, you’re knocking on the door to his office. “Director Graves, can I speak with you?” You hear a voice allowing you in and you open the door. Tina Goldstein stands at the director’s side. The two of them turn to look at you the moment you enter the room.

“Goldstein, we’ll continue this later,” Graves says. Goldstein’s gaze flits between the two of you and a mischievous smile appears on her face. You’re quick to push her out of the space and dissuade her from any deluded fantasies. The moment you return, your impatience gets the best of you.

“Why are you keeping me from the field?” You blurt out. The director doesn’t seem surprised by the question. If anything, it seems as if he was expecting it. That sends off some red flags in your head. Did he mean for you to be assigned to paperwork this whole time? Shaking your head, you turn your attention back to him.

“You need rest,” the director replies, rather predictably. Graves taps his fingers against the surface of his desk. You’re unable to keep your irritation at bay anymore.

“Yes, for one week, not two,” you snap, quickly regretting doing so when you see the blank expression on the director’s face. Graves stands up and ambles over to you. Your heart is racing in your chest, but you grit your teeth and stand your ground. He’s nearly looming over you now. Merlin, I’m going to die, you can’t help but think.

“I... apologize,” is just about the last thing you’re expecting to hear. Your surprise must show on your face, because Graves chuckles. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I was just... worried.” Why would he be worried? You frown.

“I can explain,” the director starts. You raise an eyebrow and he doesn’t make a move to explain. “Perhaps... over coffee?” You’re certain your jaw is wide open now. Is he... asking you out? You look at him for a moment longer, trying to find any hint of emotion on his face. His expression is surprisingly blank. Well, fuck it, you think to yourself. There’s nothing to lose, really.

“Sure,” you respond. Somehow, it seems as if Graves hadn’t expected you to agree because his eyebrows rise high on his forehead. The display isn’t for more than a mere fraction of a second, yet it’s somewhat refreshing to know that the director isn’t as robotic as you thought him to be.

“It’s a date,” the man says, a hint of a smile creeping up on his face. You nod and dismiss yourself, walking out into the hall. It doesn’t take long for you to bury your head in your hands in simultaneous embarrassment and excitement.

y’all i had such a moral dilemma about how to write this... cause percival’s the head of the aurors and the reader is an auror so there are obvious power dynamics there.... thus the lack of explicit romance and emphasis on moving to an alternate location without work labels... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#hp x reader #hp x male reader #male reader #gn reader #percival graves #Percival Graves x reader #Percival Graves x male reader #mwahahaha #fantastic beasts #ig

212 notes · View notes

chocfrog-enjoyer · 6 months ago

Text

Tiny Percival Graves (*≧∀≦*)

^ took away his wand, no cursing

very very slightly inspired by this post

18 notes · View notes

random-of-random · 8 months ago

Text

Chapter 9 - Not the Start of a Relationship

A/N: Here it is, guys! The final chapter. Thank you so much to everyone who read it, saved it, said anything! It means a lot.

“You’re making a mistake!” Y/N yelled as she was sat down in a chair. Magic held her down and she could barely move her arms, let alone her legs.

“You are a wanted woman. The man you just brought in here, half dead, is the one who reported you!”

Her breath caught in her chest and fear spread through her slowly like ice. “Is he going to be alright?”

“That is none of your-“

“Is Percival okay?!”

Walter clenched his jaw. “What makes you think you get to ask about him.”

“He’s my fiancé.” She said simply and Walter cracked a smile.

“Really, and how long has he been your fiancé?”

“Not long. Only a few months.” She said softly, her eyes misting.

“And how long have you been together.”

“Since the day Percival returned to work after his arm injury. Before he became head of Magical Law Enforcement.”

“Years? You really expect us to believe you and Graves have been together for years? And he made you a wanted person for what? A lovers quarrel?”

“He didn’t! The man I brought in here tonight was Percival Graves. He has been kidnapped since the battle with Grindlewald.”

“Oh really? And who has been here this whole time?”

“Grindlewald.” Walter’s eyes went wide.

“You presume to tell me that the man who has been running our department is…” He paused before letting out a breath of air. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Please! You have to believe me. Wherever he still is as Percival - he is Grindlewald! He’s using a spell or maybe Polyjuice potion.”

“And who can vouch for any of what you’re saying?”

“Arnold knew.”

“Arnold is DEAD! Killed by Grindlewald.”

“Queenie!” She said quickly. “I have been friends with Queenie for years. She knows about me and Percival. She always has.”

“If this is true,” Her voice startled Y/N, she didn’t even realize Madame President had been cleverly concealed in the back of the room. “when did you know that Percival Graves wasn’t Percival Graves and how.” President Picquery was studying her with interest.

“The night he came back.”

“And you didn’t report it?” She asked, sitting down in front of her. With a nod to Walter the spell on the chair was lifted.

“I wasn’t sure right away. We have kept our relationship a secret. So, when we’re around others we act normal.”

“Why a secret?”

“I was worried if anyone knew they would think I wasn’t getting the job of my own merit. That Percival pushed it through, and Percival hates gossip. So, we just maintained professionalism. How is he? Is he alive.”

“Yes. He woke up demanding to see you, I am told. They gave him some medicine to calm him down and make him sleep so he could rest.” She answered and Y/N let out a strangled cry of relief. She took a few deep breaths before continuing.

“I realized when we were alone that night. Usually when one of us is gone or in a battle we take those moments to just be close, hold each other. He acted like I was a mere employee. Like he barely knew me and-“ Y/N clenched her jaw. She didn’t know if the President knew about Queenie and what she can do. She had to protect her too.

“And?”

“As part of my advanced training, I took it upon myself to train in Occlumency. I had read that powerful witches and wizards would have extreme advantage if they could read our minds.” Picquery nodded, urging her to continue. “I could feel him trying to read my mind. Like something crawling up my spine. I used Occlumency. He knew he couldn’t trust me in that moment and I knew he wasn’t Percival. I went right to the elevator and was told you had gone home for the night. Rather than risk a panic, I didn’t know who he was at that point, I decided I would come back early - first thing. Be waiting for you when you got it.”

“But you weren’t here. And you were already wanted.” Picquery said.

“He broke into my apartment that night, looking for me. Luckily, for me, I was already awake. He attacked me and I was able to escape. When I came here I was injured and I knew no one would believe me. So, I went looking for the real Percival.”

“Where did you find him?”

Y/N let out a sigh. “He was held in a house. In the pocket of my coat is a list of homes on the outskirts of the city. He was in the second to last on the list. With three of Grindlewald’s followers. They’ve all been stunned. Well, I don’t know if they still are. The wands that were taken off of me - they belong to them.” She handed the list to the President.

“Madam President.” Another Auror burst through the door. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but we just got something we don’t understand.”

“What’s that?”

“An Auror downtown, when you sent a patronus to ask for the status of Mr. Graves?”

“Yes.”

“They just sent a Patronus back saying Mr. Graves just went into the subway to go after the Obscurial.”

Picquery’s eyes turned back to Y/N. “It’s Grindlewald.”

“Walter - you get three Aurors and get to this address right away!”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Collins - collect every hit witch or wizard we have. We’re going to that Subway station.”

Y/N felt her breaths coming in gasps. At least they believed her.

“Velma!” One of the President’s assistants came into the room. “Help Y/N down to the healing floor and take her to Mr. Graves.”

“A-are you sure?”

“That is an order. And while your at it send a memo to every department that Y/N Y/L/N is no longer a wanted woman and she has been falsely accused.”

“Be careful, Madam President, and thank you.” Y/N said with a nod and Picquery left the room in a hurry. Y/N stood on shaky feet and Velma quickly caught her.

“Don’t worry, Miss. Y/L/N. I’ve got you.”

“Please, I just want to see Percival.”

The walk down was slow. Y/N didn’t realize how exhausted she was before. Now that she knew Percival was safe, that the right people had been alerted to Grindlewald, she was aware of every ache and pain. She felt lightheaded and dizzy.

“When we get to Percival, I need to see a healer.”

“Would you like me to bring you straight to-“

“Just Percival.” Y/N answered quickly. The nurses on the healing floor looked on in confusion.

“Don’t worry, Miss. Y/L/N, that memo is going around now. Sent it as soon as we left the room.”

“Thank you.”

The door to Percival’s room was open. He was laying comfortably on the bed, his eyes closed and his breathing even. He wasn’t nearly as pale as he had been and Y/N let out a relieved sigh before Velma helped her into a seat next to the bed.

“I will get you a healer.” She was out the door in a flash. Y/N meant to thank her again, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of the man in front of her. Reaching a hand up she traced his jaw softly. She felt him stir and his beautiful brown eyes opened, looking at her.

“Y/N.” He tried to sit up but she stopped him and sat on the edge of his bed.

“It’s okay. I’m here.”

“They were taking you away. I tried-“

“I know.” She gave him a small smile. “Picquery came to talk to me. It’s all settled. They’re going after Grindlewald.”

“Why did they arrest you?”

Y/N took a shaky breath. “Grindlewald has been impersonating you. Came back as you. I realized it wasn’t you.”

“I am so sorry. Y/N…” He sat up and his hand cupped her cheek.

“I’m just glad you’re back. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” He kissed her softly. That familiar kiss that she could never get enough of. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” They held each other for a few moments. Just letting the quiet of the room surround them. For the first time in days they both felt safe and right where they needed to be. While across the city Grindlewald was being captured, their battle was over.

——————————-

The sun shone brightly overhead. The breeze was warm, and the smell of flowers permeated the air.

President Picquery’s voice talked to the crowd. “We have come together today not to mark the start of a relationship, but to recognize a bond that already exists. This wedding is a celebration of love and I invite you to listen with peace and joy in your hearts while you share in this most joyous ceremony.”

Percival, in his finest dress robes, stood opposite of Y/N. The dress she picked couldn’t have been more perfect. When he saw her his heart raced. He mouthed “I love you.” as the President continued her speech. Queenie was in the front row, already crying. Her sister, Tina, was comforting her. It seems like all of the Magical Law Enforcement Department had turned up for their wedding.

The vows were exchanged, as were the rings. All Y/N could hope for, a life with the man across from her was happening. Through all the trying times, they had made it. When Percival kissed her, the first time has husband and wife, the crowd cheered. As he pulled away Percival was wearing a beaming smile. He knew his wife would fight through hell and back to save him, and he would never let her fall.

“I love you, Mr. Graves.”

“I love you, Mrs. Graves.”

They kissed again, as if they were the only two people in the world.

#percival graves #percival graves imagine #percival graves x reader #percival graves x ofc #percival graves fanfic

15 notes · View notes

colinfarrellupdates · 2 years ago

Text

Six years ago

Colin Farrell in 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Him' (2016)

#colin farrell #fantastic beats and where to find them #percival graves #film #movie #cinema #gif #gifs #wizard #magic #actor #irish #handsome #gorgeous #beautiful #hot #cool #style #hollywood

110 notes · View notes

barbedbetty · 2 years ago

Text

Y’all I can’t find any good smutty fics featuring Colin Farrell.

Soooooo I guess I’ll be writing some.

Welcome Home 18+ - feat. The Coach from the Gentleman

#fanfic #smut #drabble #fanfiction #colin farrell #the gentlemen #Irish #Colin Farrell smut #fantastic beasts #Percival Graves #banshees of inisherin #coach #the imaginarium of doctor parnassus

34 notes · View notes

devoted-to-colin-farrell · 2 years ago

Text

youtube

The cast of Fantastic Beasts discuss their characters and meeting J K Rowling.

#colin farrell #best actor #eddie redmayne #harry potter #fantastic beasts #percival graves #movie #comic con #j k rowling #Youtube

15 notes · View notes

worshipcircle01 · 2 years ago

Text

NEW FIC: How to survive a magical courtship (and adopt dozens of fantastic beast in the process)

The wonderful @silverynight allow me to write the POV of Percival Graves from her fic: "How to get along with your boss (and accidentally seduce him in the process)" (here for those of you who haven't read it: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11423601/chapters/25594209). So the credit is totally hers as my thanks for this opportunity.

What more can I say?

Enjoy ;)

#percival graves #newt scamander #percival graves x newt scamander #fanfiction #macusa #fantastic beast and where to find them #tina goldstein #queenie goldstein #jacob kowalski #seraphina picquery

11 notes · View notes

k03lover · 1 year ago

Text

Her Broken World

| The Wizarding World

"Once upon a time, There was a beautiful Princess to be made a Queen by her Knight. This princess had an ugly twin brother whom was always mad at the world. He was the King of the Gaunt family as their father had died years back. The Princess was married off to her love, Raphael Knight and Became the queen she was always meant to be. They had a beautiful Knight Princess in the year of 1909, on a cold winter night of December 8th. The gorgeous baby was named Emelia Mariette Knight, after her own mother Mariette, and a crystal that had the magical properties Raphael hoped to encase their child. To be protected against negative energies and entities, and to have enhanced creativity and imagination.

Queen Mariette wanted nothing more than for her daughter to become the perfect wife.

King Raphael expected nothing less than his daughter becoming someone very important in the wizarding world they lived in.

Their opinion clashing causing Princess Emelia to be confused and wishing to please both of her parents.

Working through their demands daily, never wasting time to relax from the stress they put on her shoulders from a very young age.

The day she finally got her letter to Hogwarts she immediately went off to Diagon Alley to purchase her school supplies and wand, planning on studying before school even starts.

She sped through her years at Hogwarts with Merope by her side encouraging her, that is until her 15th birthday when she got called into Professor Dippet's office for the news of her dead parents whom died in their sleep by a fire set by jealous muggles of their wealth and beauty.

Though I do not blame them for their monstrous acts, but know they will fall and beg at the feet of death himself when it comes time.

Princess Emelia stayed with Cousin Merope in the summers but locked herself away in her room during the other holidays as she was reminded too much of the fact that she would only see her parents when she too died...

but in the summer of 1924 the princess met her very own prince, Tom Riddle, though a muggle- was very handsome and kind to her, they fell in love at first sight.

After being begged by her cousin she finally created her own version of a love potion, expecting Merope to only study its properties and affects like she promised.

Never did she think that her best friend since birth would use it on the man she loved, Tom.

Not realizing he was affected by a love potion she heartbrokenly watched from the sidelines, moving and living with them in London.

Though the love potion didn't stop Tom from demanding her attention when Merope was away.

Never crossing the line of betraying her cousin but never truly stopping his behavior towards her.

Things took a turn when Merope announced her pregnancy, taking him off the love potion, expecting him to at least stay for their child.

She was wrong.

He immediately went to Princess Emelia for comfort from the trauma of not being in control of his affections and action.

Avoiding Merope at all costs and seeking Emelia's love.

Emelia however always took care of Merope during her pregnancy and felt connected to the child. As if the child in her cousin was hers at heart.

Tom, noticing this, was there for the baby by his loves side.

Officially courting the princess in secrecy, fearing Merope would harm them or the baby if she ever found out.

9 months finally passed and the baby was born on December 31st, 1926, but not without tragedy.

Merope meeting the grim reaper during her childbirth.

Tom quickly stopped the nurses and changed the birth certificate of the baby, Changing the mothers name to Emelia Mariette Knight, encouraging her to name their new baby. 'Thomas Marvolo Knight'

She loved the baby with all her heart, wishing for him to be welcomed into the wizarding world, but Tom disagreed with her wishes.

He demanded I leave magic behind and marry him, so for the future of my baby boy, I ran to my family house in America with you, Thomas."

"What happened next, mummy?" a four year old Thomas questions, his head tilted slightly showing his interest. "Well, Mummy met that nice man, Percival and he helped us become legal maj-citizen of the US so we wouldn't get in trouble with MACUSA." I explained to him while caressing his cheeks, trying to soothe him more. "Percy? Where is he now?" he sleepily asks. "Percy is at work, Hun. He's a very busy and responsible man." I softly state, not wanting to disturb his drowsiness.

#percival graves #fantastic beats and where to find them #gellert grindelwald

1 note · View note

random-of-random · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 8 - The Mansion

Author’s Notes - Minor injuries in this chapter. I have a tag list at the end, so let me know if you want to be tagged! Thank you!

Queenie’s nerves were getting the best of her as she walked into MACUSA. Putting on a fake smile, she headed toward her desk before taking a seat and doing everything in her power to make it seem like just any other day. Deep breaths, she told herself. In a few minutes she would be stealing. Something she had never done. More importantly, she would be stealing from MACUSA.

She believed Y/N. She honestly did. Her friend had never once tried to hide from her. Now, something sinister was brewing. Her mind flashed to her sister, Tina. Hopefully she would understand. Queenie went over Y/N’s instructions in her mind. Hit witches and wizards had unprecedented access to the healing potions. They were supposed to get hurt - it was literally in the job description. A simple spell would allow Queenie into the room of potions that was on the healing floor.

Taking a few deep breaths she left her desk and walked confidently toward the elevators. People didn’t really know that Queenie could read minds. Tina had warned her to keep that fact about herself hidden, warning her that people could exploit her talent. It had been both a blessing and a curse. Some had dark secrets to hide and she was able to fish them out quickly. They would practically scream them at her. Others would think awful things in every day life as if they were going over a grocery list. She learned to tune a lot of it out.

“What floor?” The House elf asked.

“Healing floor, please.” She said with a sweet tone. He didn’t ask too many questions and it was all too soon before the elevator stopped. Walking with confidence, she passed the secretary and into the main hallway of the healing floor.

“One… two… three…” she counted in her mind as she passed patient doors. “Four…” the wall next to the fourth door was a plain cream color. “Sanitatem Aperta…” she whispered, her wand pointed at a bare wall. For a moment nothing happened and she was worried Y/N had the wrong spell, but slowly the wall started to open. She slipped quickly inside and marveled at the various potions displayed all over the walls. Reading the labels carefully, she ended up grabbing an emerald green one that was used to cure magical wounds. Slipping it carefully in her pocket she left the room, the wall closing behind her.

—————————

Y/N laid on Queenie’s couch trying her best to not let out a shout. The wound kept opening and she kept closing it as best as she could. The various food and drink in front of her was meant to keep her energy up, but if Queenie wasn’t fast she would bleed to death before anything could be done. Grindelwald was a menace but a genius. Unless she got the right potions she would die, and she knew it. It seemed, as she had long suspected, the man loved to mentally torture his victims. Right now he thought he had her cornered. Either she died or she came to him for assistance. But to get it, she would have to pledge him loyalty and she refused. Y/N would rather die than give in to that sadist.

Still, the possibility existed that if she did she would find the real Percival. No doubt sequestered in some dungeon, used to brew polyjuice potion for Grindelwald to keep impersonating him. Hopefully safe, hopefully treated well, hopefully alive.

It was tempting, giving into Grindelwald. Getting everything she currently desired. Yet, she could picture the look on Percival’s face if she did. The disappointment that she would see, even if it was just to find him. Would he even still truly love her if she gave in? Probably. Was she willing to hurt him and hurt the wizarding world to find him quicker? No. No, she would keep on her own path.

The sunlight pouring in from the outside world almost felt like an insult.

When the door opened she quickly moved to stand, her jaw clenched in pain.

“It’s just me, doll.” Queenie said in a hushed tone as she closed the door behind her. Y/N was pale. Even more pale than she had been that morning. Her hands were shaking and she could hear her breathing hitch in her chest.

“How did it go?” Y/N asked before coughing.

“Great. No one suspected a thing.” Queenie hung her coat next to the door and quickly walked to her friend. “How many times has it opened.”

“A few.” Y/N answered. Pulling the vial of green liquid from her picked she uncorked it. “Ready?” Y/N nodded and Queenie helped her down the liquid. It was ice cold and tasted vaguely of alcohol mixed with something sweet. Y/N leaned back against the couch as a chill spread down her throat and into her stomach. Immediately it moved to her side as her red scar began to burn. Queenie watched in amazement as the angry skin seemed to heal, Y/N’s breathing returning to normal. There was barely a faint line where the jagged and long scar had been.

“Thank’s Queenie.” Y/N managed once the cold had seeped from her.

“That was amazing.”

“The healers in MACUSA are the best.” Y/N said with a smile as she carefully sat up. The pain was lessened. More like new skin trying to adapt. It was clear the curse wouldn’t be able to reopen the wound. “Did you run into Grindelwald?”

“No, but I didn’t go anywhere near the Magical Law Enforcement floor. Why?” Y/N’s thoughts stood out loud and clear. “You can’t go back to Percival’s?”

“I have to Queenie.” Y/N answered as she slightly stretched. “If he’s staying there I could find some clue as to where they’re keeping Percival.”

“What if he goes back while you’re there?” Queenie asked.

“That’s something I’m willing to risk.” Y/N admitted.

“At least eat. Take something.” Queenie pointed to the food. “You’re pale and weak. Just because it wont open again, doesn’t mean you’re fixed.”

Y/N knew she was right. “Thanks, Queenie.” She grabbed one of the sandwiches. “I promise I will come back here as soon as I can.”

“Be careful.” Queenie helped her friend to her feet and the two women hugged.

“I will. See you soon.” Queenie nodded and with a pop Y/N was gone. Queenie couldn’t pretend to really know why Y/N was making the choices she was, but then again - love was a mystery like that.

————————

When Y/N’s feet hit the hardwood floor of Percival’s living room she didn’t even allow herself to breathe. The apartment was quiet. The only sounds coming from the busy streets outside. After a few moments Y/N let out a slow breath as her eyes raked around the room. Nothing. Nothing had changed since she had last been there. The book she was reading was still on the coffee table. Her coffee cup she had promised Percival she would wash after dinner sat untouched. A small layer of dust had settled over the surfaces and the air was stale.

Still, something wasn’t exactly right. Someone had been there, something was different. Just, not recently.

Y/N made her way around the apartment. Percival’s clothes from his closest were gone. Papers in his study were just slightly off from where they had been. Clearly someone was trying to figure out more about the famous Auror. More of who he was. But, no one has been there for at least a day.

Y/N didn’t know what she was expecting. Some grand clue about where they had taken her fiancé. But there was none. A deep depression seemed to settle over her as she walked back in the living room. Sitting on the couch, she placed the sandwich on the table and her head in her hands. A sense of panic threatened to overwhelm her, but she beat it back down. She had been trained better than that. Slowly she took bites of the sandwich, needing some amount is strength.

Grindelwald had to be hiding somewhere. Somewhere to his tastes. Somewhere grand. He always thought he deserved grand. Somewhere close, he was arrogant like that. It could be abandoned, or he could have killed the no-maj’s who owned it. She resolved to had to the no-maj courthouse. Surely some great homes were left abandoned. Somewhere Grindelwald would see to his liking. Somewhere that he was keeping Percival.

———————-

Blending into the no-maj world was easy. She walked confidently, her wand carefully concealed in the inner pocket of her jacket. And with Grindelwald plastering her face all over MACUSA, she was safer where she was headed.

The courthouse sat in the center of the city, most unassuming compared to the skyscrapers that were in the process of being built.

When Y/N asked the secretary about old homes and mansions in the area, the woman had eyed her with curiosity. She had to, poorly, pretend she was asking for her boss. A wealthy man who was looking for a home to renovate.

Just for a second she thought the woman was going to turn her away and Y/N would have to resort to magical means, but the secretary rolled her eyes and led her toward the deed room.

Large stacks of books filled the shelves.

“If you’re looking for something outside the city, it will be in that section.” The secretary pointed to the far left wall. “I can’t tell you which homes aren’t occupied currently, you’ll have to search for that.” She turned on her heel and headed back to her desk as Y/N let out a soft sigh. She was in for a very long day of research.

Hours had gone by. Her back was aching from the wooden chairs. The sandwich seemed to help a bit, and she had paused more than a few times to grab the complimentary coffee and water. Now, she had a list of several possible homes.

Based on Grindelwald’s previous hideouts, it would be older. Classy. Fancy. She discounted places that had a lot of updated remodeling on a later deed. It also would most likely be somewhere remote. Not with houses right next door on either side. By the time the sun had begun to set she had a list of fifteen places. It was a good start. And if she couldn’t find anything there, she would come back and start again.

———————————-

Not willing to risk apparating, Y/N took the train to the outskirts of the city. The wealthy neighborhoods. Pulling her cap lower and her jacket higher, she knew she needed to be careful. Many wizards and witches lived in this part of town. If the no-maj’s knew who some of their next door neighbors were, maybe the Second Salem group would have much more support.

The sun had set, giving her a slight edge as she tried to walk softly, not allowing her heels to click loudly on the road. The first house she was immediately able to rule out. The family sitting in their living room was almost picturesque from the front window. The lights bright. So, she kept walking. It was the same story with the next house, and the one after that. And the one after that.

By then it was very late, her legs were almost numb in the cold air, but she told herself she needed to keep going. The next address in question was at the end of a dirt road. The front gate was half open and Y/N slipped her wand from her coat. The city sounds were replaced with animals scurrying and leaves rustling. But something wasn’t sitting right. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

Y/N barely registered the movement from her left and she turned just in time to see a spell fired at her. Quickly countering it, she fired one back that seemed to bounce off a shield. The man, hidden in shadow, didn’t wait for the next attack. The spells flew back and forth, Y/N’s heart practically in her throat, trying to take in all her surroundings. Clearly, this was the right house, but how many people would Grindelwald have here. She felt a brush of heat on her arm and clenched her teeth. A spell had grazed her. Ignoring the pain she ducked another one and fired off a powerful non-verbal stunning spell. Finally, one of her spells hit its target and the man fell to the ground unconscious. She walked over to him and grabbed his wand, putting it in her coat before slowly circling the house.

“Henry?” A voice whispered from the darkness and Y/N concealed herself behind a tree. From a door at the back of the house walked another man. Y/N had been right. This house was grand. Three stories. Stonework and classic architecture. It was massive. Though, it had been sold less than a year before. Y/N didn’t want to think about what had happened to the owners. There was firelight coming from a room on the second story.

“Henry?!” The man called out again, slightly more frantic. He stepped into the yard and around the side of the house, directly into Y/N’s line of fire. Using a non verbal spell, the second of Grindelwald’s men was now as unconscious as Henry. Just like before she took his wand and continued toward the back door he had just come from.

She couldn’t stop the sound of her shoes on the stone entryway so she paused. Straining to hear anything. The back door opened up to the kitchen. There was a light farther in, steps to her left, and a door all the way at the end of the kitchen to her right.

“Homenum Revelio.” She whispered. Two. There were two more people in the house. Footsteps above her began running. A single set. Y/N quickly curled herself into a corner, the shadows making it impossible to see. She knew both people would have felt that spell. Footsteps came down the stairs, and a woman ran right past her and through another door. There were more steps going down to, what Y/N had to assume was, the basement.

“How did you get-“ the voice shouted and stopped abruptly. Silence settled for just a moment before someone was slowly walking back up the stairs carefully, as if to minimize the sounds their shoes were making. Y/N pushed herself more against the wall, her wand clutched in her hand. A thin sheen of sweat covered her forehead and she knew she was shaking. Whether it was from the fight, the anticipation of another, or the pain that was becoming more prevalent in her arm she didn’t know. The footsteps reached the main floor and the woman came back into the kitchen, her eyes wide. Wand in front of her she moved more into the room. Her non dominant arm reaching for something on the wall. Y/N realized quickly what it was. A knob that would light the lamps in the kitchen, suddenly making her starkly visible.

“Stupefy!” She called out her wand pointed at the woman. The spell struck the woman in the shoulder as she was still reaching for the wall and she fell with a crash to the floor.

Again, Y/N took her wand. Her eyes on the door to the basement. One more. When she had gotten all of them, she would tie them up and try to get any information about Percival out of them. For one brief moment she wondered where Grindelwald was. Why he hadn’t come back yet. But she didn’t have time to wonder. Right now it was the best lead she had. Trying to mimic the woman’s footsteps, she kept careful control of her wand as she headed into the basement. If whoever was down there realized it wasn’t his friend coming, she could be hit with a spell before she saw anyone.

With every step she could hear her heartbeat in her ears, but she stayed as calm as she could. From the outside, it might just look like she was cautious about tripping. Right now she couldn’t afford to panic and make stupid mistakes. The basement was dark, too dark to see, and it was freezing. Every step was like descending into a pitch black lake. When she reached the bottom of the stairs she had a decision to make. Pulling out one of the wands she collected, she held it in her off hand, her own wand ready to go. As soon as she lit up the room, she could have another fight on her hands. But she also would be making herself vulnerable. It was a risk she had to take.

“Lumos.” She whispered quietly, holding the other woman’s wand in front of her. The light shone on every wall in the small unfinished basement. She didn’t notice the old trunk of clothes or the paintings. She did noticed the man tied to a chair in the center of the room. “Percival?” His eyes looked up at her in surprise.

“Y/N….” Letting out a deep breath that came with a cough. She walked over slowly, carefully. “Y/N, get me out of here.”

“Is this a trick?” She asked, her eyes beginning to tear. His pants were dirty, the T-shirt he had been wearing under a button up was left, but the button up was gone. His face was bruised and beaten, arms and legs tied behind the chair. His hair was a mess and partially hanging in his face.

“It’s me, Y/N, I swear.” He let out a soft groan and she was quickly in front of him.

“Percival…” Her eyes took in his and she couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Using her wand she quickly untied him and he fell forward. Catching him she carefully helped him sit on the floor. He was clearly weak. But he was alive and he was in her arms. That was what mattered.

“How long have I been here?”

“A couple of days.” Y/N held onto him as he looked up to her. His hand came to cup her cheek but his strength failed and his arm fell back toward the ground. Still, he moved as much as he could and she leaned down to meet him, their lips connecting. It was as if each of them could finally breathe for the first time in days.

“I knew you would find me.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t have stopped looking, ever.” He tried to smile up at her but he started coughing again. His skin was so pale. His arms were freezing but his face warm. He clearly had a fever. She could feel his body shaking and hear his breath getting weaker. “We need to get you to the healers. Can you stand?” He shook his head no. Y/N knew there was no time to waste. She would come back with Aurors for Grindelwald’s people. “I’m going to apparate us. Hold on to me as tonight as you can. I’ve got you.” Percival nodded and before he knew it they were in the designated apparating spot in MACUSA.

“Y/N…” his breathing was becoming harder.

“HELP! WE NEED HELP!” Y/N screamed. Within a few seconds there was a rush of people and murmurs. “He needs to get to the healing floor.”

“How did he get out from downtown?” Someone asked softly.

“He must have found her.” Someone else whispered. A few people clamored into the room and grabbed Y/N by her arms pulling her back. “What are you doing?!”

“Y/N Y/L/N, you’re under arrest for crimes against the Magical Congress of the United States…” Percival was now on a stretcher and being slowly lifted.

“Percival!” She called as she felt her wand, and the others she had collected, taken from her.

“Y/N!” He tried to sit up. “Y/N!” Soon the little strength he had failed him and he fell back onto the soft material. Colors popped in front of his eyes before he couldn’t hold on anymore and he passed out.

“No!” Y/N was still struggling. “You don’t understand what’s going on!” They dragged her toward the elevator and she knew they were headed for the magical law enforcement floor.

“You have to let me go!” She tried once again to struggle before a wand was promptly shoved in her face. She knew the guy. Walter, she thought his name was. They had started at the same time.

“If you don’t calm down, I’m going to make you calm down.” Her own wand taken, she didn’t really have any other choice.

Taglist - @chikiballs @weekendswithnewtmas

#percival graves #percival graves fanfic #percival graves imagine #percival graves x ofc #percival graves x reader

43 notes · View notes

colinfarrellupdates · 2 years ago

Text

Six years ago

Colin Farrell in 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them'

#colin farrell #fantastic beats and where to find them #gif #gifs #film #movie #percival graves #actor #irish #handsome #gorgeous #beautiful #hot #cool #wizard #magic #hollywood

126 notes · View notes

worshipcircle01 · 2 years ago

Text

UPDATE: How to survive a magical courtship (and adopt dozens of fantastic beast in the process)

Percival decides to delve into the history of his magizoologist and, along the way, his own as well.

#newt scamander #percival graves x newt scamander #percival graves #fantastic beast and where to find them #tina goldstein #queenie goldstein #seraphina picquery #albus dumbledore #minerva mcgonagall

1 note · View note

defectivevillain · 5 months ago

Text

watching you (watching me)

pairing: Percival Graves/Reader

the reader's race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.

summary: Just as you begin to think you’re getting to know Percival, he starts acting strange. When you come across him in the hall, he doesn’t return your small smiles; when he meets with Seraphina, he walks right by you as if you aren’t even there. You don’t want to read into those minute gestures too much, so, at first, you don’t. But the fact that he pivoted from purposefully stopping by your desk to inquire about your day…to walking past you without so much as a lingering gaze… is concerning. Plus, his rumored treatment of his employees seems uncharacteristic. While you've never worked under Director Graves, you’ve heard from several different people in multiple departments that he’s a great person to work for. So why is he so different all of a sudden? What changed?

word count: 4.5k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical violence, abduction, unconsciousness, hospitals, implied malnourishment & injury

Sometimes, you think you can never truly leave your life as an Auror behind.

When you graduate from Ilvermorny, you eagerly join the Auror training program—and pass years later with flying colors. You soon find yourself regularly participating in missions and tracking down Dark wizards. The job is incredibly fulfilling, but it’s also extremely exhausting. Your work follows you into your personal life, to the point that perpetrators invade your dreams and you can’t ever relax. You manage to push through for a while, but eventually, you find yourself experiencing too much burnout to enjoy the job anymore.

Then you’re approached by Seraphina Picquery with a one-of-a-kind proposition. The Chief of Staff position recently became available after the previous employee retired, and Picquery—Seraphina, she tells you to call her—is looking for a replacement. It’s a rather high-up position—an administrative aid to the President of the entire organization. The salary is nearly double what you’re making as an Auror and you’d still be handling important work. In fact, you might even be awarded more responsibility in that role than your position as an Auror. It doesn’t take you long to get back to her with a confirmation that you’ll accept the position; within a few weeks, you have a desk right outside Seraphina’s office.

Through your new position, you gain exposure to much more of the organization—as you’re communicating with nearly every executive-level employee. You meet Emily Limus, the Federal Identity Commissioner; Malcolm Carneirus, Captain of the Aurors; and even Bernadette Williams, the executioner. (She’s a kind woman, but you sincerely hope you don’t have a reason to see her again.) You don’t exactly meet Percival Graves, the Director of Magical Security. Rather, you sort of… crash into him.

You’re in a bit of a rush, power-walking down the hall, when you turn the corner and collide with someone. The stack of papers in your hands goes flying and you wince. “Sorry, sorry-” You quickly say, looking at the person you just bumped into. It’s none other than Percival Graves, the Director of Magical Security. You’ve seen and heard plenty about him, but you’ve never actually met him before. He’s somehow even more handsome in person, with inky black hair styled back to reveal tinges of silver hair on the sides of his face. He has deep brown eyes and looks rather intimidating, what with the formal attire he’s wearing.

“It’s alright,” the man responds with an understanding smile. “You must be the new Chief of Staff.” He introduces himself and extends a hand. You think the thought is rather nice. He could’ve easily just assumed that you’d heard of him, but he instead went through the effort of introducing himself to you in a friendly and personable manner. You immediately decide you like him.

You introduce yourself in return, before shaking his extended hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Director Graves responds. “Can I help you with those?” He motions to the floor, where your paperwork rests in a disorganized pile. You grimace down at it, dreading the thought of organizing it all over again.

“Ah, that’d be great, thanks,” you then say, crouching down to pick up the scattered papers. He crouches down too and collects a few papers, placing them in a neat pile and handing it to you. You thank him and get to your feet once all your papers are in order.

For an awkward moment, you’re lingering silently in front of him. He doesn’t immediately dismiss you or move to depart. Rather, the man regards you with another look. “Seraphina isn’t running you too ragged, is she?” Director Graves asks.

“No, no,” you’re quick to say. “She doesn’t know I’m doing this, actually.” You motion down to the papers and grimace, hoping the man can keep a secret.

“My lips are sealed,” Director Graves says with a small smile. You feel a smile rising on your own lips at the sight.

There’s that awkward silence again; this time, it doesn’t seem like the man is going to break through it. You take a deep breath and try to manifest some composure. “It was nice to meet you, sir,” You say.

His brow furrows. “Please, call me Percival,” Director Graves responds.

You blink for a moment, surprised at the invitation. “Okay,” you agree. “It was nice to meet you, Percival. Sorry, I have to get going…” You glance down the hallway behind him, praying Seraphina hasn’t gone into her meeting just yet.

“No worries,” Percival responds easily. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again soon.” The two of you part ways and you find yourself smiling as you pace down the hall, a new spring in your step.

Indeed, you do begin to see Percival Graves rather frequently. You sit in on the meetings amongst the higher-level officials in the organization and he always has something to say about recent Dark wizard captures or other concerns. He’s pretty nice to you, too—always going out of his way to greet you when you enter the room. You feel like most of the other directors are keen to dismiss you, but Percival doesn’t. You hate to admit it, but he makes those stuffy weekly meetings infinitely more bearable.

Percival also greets you whenever he walks past your desk to enter Seraphina’s office. His short greetings may seem virtually insignificant, but they go a long way to making you feel more welcome in the workplace. You tell him as much one time, and have the honor of watching his cheeks flush ever so slightly pink. After that conversation, he starts stopping at your desk and asking you about your weekend, your work day, and anything else going on. It’s safe to say that Percival quickly becomes your favorite person to work with—other than your boss, of course.

But just as you begin to think you’re getting to know Percival, he starts acting strange. When you come across him in the hall, he doesn’t return your small smiles; when he meets with Seraphina, he walks right by you as if you aren’t even there. You don’t want to read into those minute gestures too much, so, at first, you don’t. You write these occurrences off as flukes and continue as normal.

The meetings amongst the executives are tenser than usual, though. Percival seems to be dominating the conversation, purposefully steering it in the directions he chooses. He possesses a self-importance that you didn’t seem to notice before. You have to wonder if you were wrong about him. In the past few weeks, he’s been acting entirely differently than when you first met him. If he’s showing his true colors, then… you’re not very happy about it.

It seems you aren’t the only one to notice his weird behavior, however. Seraphina repeatedly remarks that he seems a bit off, and she soon abandons their weekly meeting schedule in exchange for biweekly meetings. You also hear from the Aurors that the man is exhibiting a rather bad temper. He’s been lashing out at recruits for easy mistakes and working the senior Aurors to the bone.

You soon find yourself growing wary. These changes in behavior are complete switches from what he exhibited previously. And the fact that he pivoted from purposefully stopping by your desk to inquire about your day…to walking past you without so much as a lingering gaze… is concerning. Plus, his rumored treatment of his employees seems uncharacteristic. While you never worked under Director Graves, you’ve heard from several different people in multiple departments that he’s a great person to work for. So why is he so different all of a sudden? What changed?

You attempt to have another conversation with him in the coming days, only for him to brush off your questions and effectively dismiss you. You’re left wondering if you’re even speaking with the same person: if the Percival Graves from before was conjured by your imagination. The man you’ve interacted with recently is just far too different from the man you crashed into in the hallway all that time ago.

A dark thought crosses your mind as you’re contemplating Percival’s strange behavior. What if… he is a different person? What if this Percival Graves, the one who mistreats his employees and seems completely uncaring of the feelings of those around him, is a different man? You immediately huff a laugh under your breath for even considering such a crazy idea. There has to be a rational explanation for his behavior. Maybe he’s going through something right now—a death in the family or a bad breakup. You dismiss your doppelgänger idea as nothing more than a desperate theory.

But that same desperate theory keeps you up later that night, tossing and turning restlessly. It’s a foolish thought, a crackpot theory. Who would possibly have the power, skill, and evasive ability to disguise themself as the Director of Magical Security? How would that even be possible? They would not only have to be capable enough to at least get by in Percival’s position, but they’d also have to overpower him somehow. Percival is the Head of the Aurors—he’s an extremely talented duelist and quick on his feet. No doubt there are only a select handful of people who would even be able to stay alive in a duel with him, let alone triumph and render him incapacitated. Who would even want to do something like that? What purpose would it serve?

Well, if a person wanted to invade the Magical Congress and gain access to highly privileged information, you suppose that would be a clear-cut path to getting it. Percival is one of the highest-ranking officials at MACUSA, other than Seraphina herself.

But you find yourself struggling with the practicality of such an act. Again, only an incredibly powerful wizard would be able to pull something like that off—someone like Albus Dumbledore or Gellert Grindelwald. Obviously, Dumbledore wouldn’t have any reason to do something like that. But Grindelwald, on the other hand… The Dark wizard’s whereabouts have been unknown for a while now, and everyone knows that he’s gathering strength and support. You suppose one of his more loyal followers would embark on such a mission for his benefit.

After spending an hour thinking through the idea, you realize you can’t shake it off—and promise yourself to consider it more in the morning.

In the morning, you do far more than merely consider the possibility of someone else being disguised as Percival Graves. Instead, you find yourself hatching a plan. You think that, if you can lure Percival into a conversation, you’ll be able to ask him questions that only he would know the answers to. From there, you can determine if he’s real or a disguise maintained by someone else.

It sounds ridiculous and utterly inane. But what’s the worst that can happen? At worst, you’d just look foolish in front of the real Percival. That’s something you can deal with. You also get the sense that this disguise theory will weigh heavily on your mind until you try to establish or refute its validity.

Fortunately, you get the chance to enact your plan later that same day. When Percival walks into your office a few minutes early, you manage to rope him into a conversation. He is very clearly fed up with you, despite the fact that you haven’t been talking for more than a few seconds. That’s your first clue. You also think that you see his eyes glimmer blue for a fraction of a second. His attire is the same as always, but his posture is different—perfectly straight and poised with an air of pretentiousness.

You can’t keep yourself in suspense any longer. “How did we first meet?” You finally manage to ask. It doesn’t take you very long to recall how you first met—you crashed into Percival as you were walking down the hall; he helped you pick up the papers dropped and you eventually parted ways. If he says something along those lines, then you’ll know it’s him. If not…

“We met here, of course,” the man responds. There’s hardly any emotion on his face. It feels like you’re looking into a void. Your heart begins to roar in your ears as you realize that he just tried to avoid the question.

“I said how, not where,” you realize aloud, your suspicions confirmed. You point your wand at him. “ Revelio. ” You watch in mute horror as Percival’s face melts into an entirely different one. His right eye glows and morphs into a grey-blue color; his hair grows into a spiky white style. Gellert Grindelwald tilts his head and stares at you curiously.

“Clever.” He remarks. Your heart races in your chest and you quickly remember Grindelwald’s reputation: his dueling prowess, his extremely strong grasp of nearly all branches of magic, his incredibly quick reflexes. He allowed you to cast that spell just now, but it’s clear he won’t allow any further opposition—judging from the malicious gleam in his eyes.

Grindelwald’s gaze is piercing, sending shivers down your spine and goosebumps across your forearms. “But not clever enough.” He says, clicking his tongue and disarming you with a nonverbal spell. In the blink of an eye, his wand is pointed at your chest. “Avada-”

The door bursts open and a veritable mass of Aurors infiltrates the space, surrounding Grindelwald. Seraphina walks in after them, a furious expression on her face that she quickly smooths into indifference. Suddenly, Grindelwald is immersed in battle. To your discomfort and fear, he seems to be overpowering the Aurors—despite the odds being nearly twenty to one. For a few awful moments, you’re entranced by his elegant movements. Then you remember everything he’s done and snap out of it, casting a Stunning spell on him. Somehow, by some trace of dumb luck, your spell ends up being the one to send him crumpling to the ground. Seraphina immediately places Admonitors on his wrists, before ordering the Aurors to take him away. You and your boss are left standing in Percival’s office in disbelief.

“That was… anticlimactic,” you choke out.

Seraphina nods in agreement. You raise an eyebrow at her, silently asking her how she knew that Percival wasn’t himself. “Director Graves has never been late to a meeting, in the several years I’ve worked with him,” she explains. Seraphina then regards you for a long moment. “Nice work.”

“Thanks,” you respond blankly, still reeling from what just happened. Admittedly, you wanted to tell Seraphina about your plan, but Grindelwald would’ve been suspicious if Seraphina joined you for the conversation. You knew he would underestimate you—seeing you as a mere office assistant—and you decided to take advantage. You take a deep breath and try to refocus—you have more important things to be concerned with at the present moment. “Where do you think Director Graves is?” You ask.

“I’m not sure,” Seraphina frowns. “We’ll get someone from Major Investigation to look around in here.”

You look around, an ugly feeling growing in your chest. You have the weirdest conviction that Percival is nearby, and you can’t explain why. “Actually… We may not have to.” You murmur in response to Seraphina’s remark. She looks at you questioningly, but you don’t think you can explain your reasoning. You instead study the room around you once more, eyes gliding across a lacquered armoire and past his desk.

Wait. A lacquered armoire? You take a slow breath and step over to the misplaced piece of furniture. The more you look at it, the more you realize that it sticks out like a sore thumb in comparison with the rest of Percival’s unassuming office. You take a deep breath and tug at the handles, unsurprised to find that it’s locked. You cast Alohomora and try unlocking it again. It doesn’t work. You try once more, willing the cabinet to open. To your surprise, your effort works and the doors fall open with an exaggerated bang.

Seraphina gasps. You’re not as shocked as you should be—there’s something horribly ironic about Grindelwald concealing the real Percival Graves in his office, only a short distance from his disguised form. You stare at the magically expanded space, your stomach turning uneasily as you see Percival Graves stuffed into it—leaning against one of the interior walls with a dazed expression. His wrists and ankles are bound together and there’s a gag in his mouth. You quickly bend down and free him.

“Percival,” you say, pulling him out of the armoire and to his feet. You state your name and remind him of your position, because he looks incredibly disoriented. The longer you look at him, the more worried you get. His hair is unkempt and messy; his eyes are bloodshot and bracketed with dark circles underneath. Percival looks gaunt—his skin stretched tight across his bones. For a moment, you think he doesn’t recognize you—then, suddenly, he lurches forward and wraps his arms around you. You instinctually stiffen in surprise, before hesitantly returning his embrace.

Seraphina sends a Patronus to the Healers, detailing where you are and requesting medical help. Within moments, a few Healers are running into the room. You try to break away from Percival, self-conscious that there are people watching, but he doesn’t seem to want to let you go. Eventually, the Healers manage to pull him off of you. They’re asking him questions, but his eyes look glazed over. Within moments, he’s slumping into their arms as he falls unconscious. You watch worriedly as the Healers exit the room. Seraphina takes one look at you and promptly tells you to follow after them. You try to protest, but you don’t get very far before she’s gently pushing you out of the room with the promise that the investigative team will wrap up any loose ends in the office.

You manage to catch up to the Healers, who are now levitating Percival’s unconscious form as they rush to the Healing ward. When you arrive, Percival is whisked away into a room—and you’re left to haunt the waiting room.

You’re not sure how much time you spend staring off into space on an uncomfortable sofa before there’s someone standing in front of you, proclaiming that you can visit Percival. As you follow after them, the Healer reassures you that he will make a full recovery—stating that they have him on all the necessary nutrient supplements that will help him regain his strength.

“He isn’t awake just yet,” the Healer explains as they open the door to his room, revealing Percival reclined in a hospital bed. He looks uncharacteristically vulnerable now—his eyes closed as he evidently rests. There are bandages along his arms and wrists. You frown and take a seat in the chair situated in the corner of the room. “I’ll be back in a bit to check on him.” They promise. You thank the Healer and they leave with a sympathetic nod.

In the wake of everything that just happened, you’re exhausted. You wouldn’t be surprised if your encounter with Grindelwald drained some of your magic temporarily. The stress of the entire affair coupled with your poor sleep last night makes your eyelids sting and burn with fatigue. You desperately try to keep awake but, at some point, you’re dozing off in the chair at Percival’s bedside.

When there’s a gentle tap on your shoulder, you ignore it. But just as you’re about to drift off into sleep again, there’s another tap—slightly more insistent than the first time. You blearily open your eyes, your blurry vision slowly clearing to reveal Percival staring down at you. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he grimaces apologetically. You stare at him for a moment, still processing. Then you remember everything that just happened: Grindelwald disguising himself as Percival; Seraphina and you finding Percival bound and gagged in his office; Percival falling unconscious; you choosing to wait in his room for him to wake up. Now he’s awake—and he’s out of bed.

“You shouldn’t be up-!” You quickly say, forcefully guiding him to return to his bed. He grasps your forearms as you lower him back onto the bed; the movement sends a shiver down your spine. Even once he is situated, he doesn’t seem keen to let you go—as his grasp momentarily tightens and he looks at you imploringly.

“How’d you know?” Percival asks, his voice raspy from disuse. You don’t need him to elaborate further—you know what he’s referring to. His hands slip from your arms and you contemplate the question. It doesn’t take you long to find an answer.

“Grindelwald was a convincing actor,” you admit. You stare at the wall behind him. Eye contact feels difficult right now, in the stuffy silence settling in the air of the hospital room. “...But he wasn’t you.” You break off, not trusting yourself to go into the details without slipping up and revealing something untoward.

“I was worried no one would find me.” Your eyes snap back to Percival; the sincerity written all over his face is heartbreaking. Then a grimace rises on his lips. “I… apologize for the way I acted,” Percival then says. You stare at him in confusion. You’re not sure what he’s apologizing for, and he’s looking at you expectantly. Eventually he sighs. “It was unprofessional of me.”

“What?” You ask. Then it comes back to you: the relief written all over his face, the way he rushed to embrace you without hesitation. “Oh, when I found you? You were in captivity for months, don’t be so hard on yourself. I would’ve done the same thing.”

Percival frowns at that. “If it had been you who Grindelwald took…” He trails off, before vigorously shaking his head. “I don’t even want to think about it.” You remain silent, unsure of what to say or how to say it. Fortunately, Percival is comfortable with keeping the conversation going. “What I mean to say is… thank you—for your determination, and… for seeing what no one else did.”

“There were a few others who were also suspicious,” you inform him, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the idea of taking all of the credit. Sure, you may have been the one to act first—but whispers of Percival’s uncharacteristic behavior had been spreading like wildfire. You’re certain someone would’ve figured it out, if you hadn’t acted. As to whether Percival had that much time left… you’re not sure. And you don’t really want to think about it.

Somehow, this makes Percival frown again—as if he thinks you’re trying to brush off his gratitude. “Regardless, I appreciate it,” he maintains. “And I admire your courage and bravery. I’m sure it was difficult to stand up to a supervisor.”

“Ordinarily it wouldn’t be,” you admit before you can contemplate the consequences. Percival’s brows climb up his forehead. “I’m comfortable being honest with you.” You clarify, before breaking off so you can’t indict yourself further. You’ve already said far too much.

“I appreciate that,” Percival responds. He looks a little lighter—the tension seems to have slowly slipped out of his shoulders. “And I echo the sentiment.” He says with a quick nod. There’s an appreciative smile on his face and your heart starts racing. If you don’t leave soon, you may do something you’ll soon regret.

“I hope you recover quickly, sir,” you remark, taking a step back and turning towards the door. There had been a tense silence stretching across the space, indicating that the conversation was over, so you have no qualms about departing now.

“Wait.” Percival says, just before you can leave. You freeze and turn around to face him once more. There’s a torn expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

“This is going to sound pathetic and selfish,” Percival admits, steadily avoiding your gaze. You raise a brow. From what you’ve seen, Percival is the furthest thing from pathetic or selfish.

“I’m sure you’ve seen your fair share of me being pathetic,” you deflect, a small smile on your face. Percival shakes his head with what can only be described as fond disagreement. You’re thrown back into the memory of your first meeting, into your hands shaking beneath your stack of papers and your heart thrumming steadily in your chest.

“...Will you stay here a while longer?” Percival asks, breaking you from your thoughts.

“Of course, sir,” you respond. The formal address is more for you to maintain your own boundaries and remind yourself that you don’t get to associate with Percival in anything more than a strictly professional sense. But he seems to react negatively to it—as his brows furrow and he studies you for a moment. You take mental note of that reaction and abandon the formality. Percival just went through hell and back—spending months slowly fading away in that armoire in his office, perfectly out of sight but so achingly close to freedom. If there’s anything you can do to make him feel better, you’ll do it. And not only does that include sitting at his bedside a while longer, but, apparently, it also includes negating to call him “sir.” You don’t think those are very tough tasks to undertake.

You’ll end up accidentally spending the night in his hospital room, and you’ll wake up to another slight tap on your shoulder and a back ache. Percival will be looking down at you again; you’ll admonish him for getting out of bed; he’ll thank you again for keeping him company. Eventually, he’ll practically force you out of the room with a reassurance that he’ll be fine. Normally, you wouldn’t believe him—but the determined expression on his face suggests that he’ll bounce back just fine.

Indeed, within a few weeks, Percival will be back at work. He’ll continue to stop by your desk and talk to you—to the point where you’ll have to ignore Seraphina’s relentless teasing about it. He’ll maintain that he owes you something—to which you’ll consistently remind him that he would do the same for you.

And Percival does end up doing the same for you. At some point in the foreseeable future, when you’re injured in an Auror mission, Percival will be the one waiting at your bedside. You’ll jokingly point out how worried he looks and he’ll only frown more, before admitting that those few hours when you were unconscious were nearly unbearable. Percival will admit that his feelings for you “far surpass professionalism.”

You’ll try to answer with your own confession, but Percival will quickly interject with the promise that you can give him an answer once you’re feeling better. When you finally get the chance to speak to your feelings, you’ll just barely finish speaking before Percival is pulling you into a kiss. His hands will slip down to your hips and you’ll feel sparks running up your skin and a smile rising on your lips.

“How long?” Percival will ask breathlessly when you first break apart.

“Since you crashed into me,” you’ll admit.

“Don’t you mean when you crashed into me? ” Percival will emphasize.

And you’ll roll your eyes and lean closer to kiss him again.

thanks for reading ! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat

friendly reminder that i don't give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!

#defectivevillain #x reader #x gn reader #x male reader #transmasc reader #gn reader #nb reader #male reader #percival graves x reader #hp x reader #percival graves x male reader #hp x male reader #hp x gn reader

66 notes · View notes