Chapter Text
It was Thursday morning in one of the corridors on the sixth floor of MACURSA, there was a black matte door that opened without making any sound, letting pass through Percival Graves that was carrying a bulky folder with all the necessary documents he needed for the meeting that just finished. From the corner of his eye, he could see the Director of Foreign Affairs, Bernard Wallace, trying to reach him for a small talk. Percival hurries his steps to get to the elevators and escape of a tedious discussion they have pendent about the lack of advances in the escape of Grindelwald during the battle of the City Hall last year. Only remembering his name makes his stomach stir and want to scream at the top of his lungs.
Arriving at the elevator door he typed the floor where his new office was located, he looked at the silver screen that told him to wait for elevator B. He looked at the reflection of the polished deck of the elevator where he can see Bernard Wallace was approaching imminently. Suddenly he heard the sound of the elevator and he was finally in the protection of its interior while the doors were closed, he had achieved. A year ago, he would not have had any trouble talking about Grindelwald, but that was before he had supplanted his identity before he spent two months locked in one of his wardrobes before he tortured him and before he strips everything that made him the Percival Graves that was respected. He knew perfectly well that he only kept his position because Seraphina Picquery did not admit his resignation, convincing him that in order to recover he had to face his fears and avoid lock himself up in his house.
Once arrived at his destination, he found Baelor, his short-eared owl, who was waiting for him perched on his desk with a letter under his claws. Without thinking he went to pick up the letter to which the owl opened his wings, threatening him. “Sorry, I keep forgetting this. White and brown Crup”- When he said the last words, the owl took off to rest on a shelf leaving the letter on the desk. Baelor was an owl with whom they had a phrase which they changed every week to make sure that the person who was delivering the correspondence was the real Percival Graves. The owl had been in his company for a few months; ever since Grindelwald had killed Quartz, his owl that he acquired when he finished his studies at Ilvermorny. The unfortunate owl came back from hunting in the night, entering through a window that was always open for her, when she saw Percival gagged on the floor of his kitchen and Grindelwald searching the house for information. Percival from the ground only saw a ray of green light emerge from the Grindelwald wand and the Quartz feathers fall on the ground.
Turning his attention to the letter, Percival recognized the letter instantly. His father hasn’t written to him in months, not since he went to visit him in the hospital after they found him.
"Dear Percival,
These months you have been in my thoughts more than ever my dear son, and I regret that I am not as good with words as your mother was, but I would like to count with your presence this October 31 to remember old times.
Your uncle Charles already confirmed his assistance with your cousins, he promises me he wouldn’t bring a boggart this time. Frankly, I do not know if I can trust his word.
Dindrane will come only with the children since Hector cannot accompany her for some work matters.
I will wait for your answer.
Warm regards,
Willard Graves"
For a moment, he thought about attending while he reread the letter, but a Halloween with his family was not what he wanted at the moment. He could not stand all the looks of pity they give to him when he was startled by loud noises in MACUSA, he would not be able to spend an evening in the company of his family whom would treat him as if he were made of glass, taking care of every word they pronounce to not disturb him. Besides, he used to love Halloween when he was a kid, but after the years passed he could care less of the celebration. In that moment he was aware of the white scar that crossed from his ribs on the left side through his neck to the edge of his jaw. One line of many that reminded him of the weeks he was in captivity and torture. He touched that scar on his jaw with his fingertips feeling how soft and bulging the skin felt in that place.
Baelor shifted restlessly from the top of the shelf, staring at him, which brought him back to reality. Percival took a treat for her owl from her desk drawer and then wrote a quick note apologizing for not being able to attend the family reunion, but sending greetings to all attendees. He folded and sealed the letter to deliver it to Baelor who immediately began looking at the office door, for Percival to open it so he could go out and deliver the letter. This was the second invitation he refused for Halloween. Attending the annual MACUSA dance did not attract her attention either, not now.
A couple of hours later, after sitting for a while in front of Jacob Mold's fountain to silence the new thoughts that his father's invitation had awakened, he appeared in a dark alley near his home, in between a laundry and a Chinese Restaurant delivery. He walked a couple of blocks to find the short stairs of his new home that little by little he was getting used to going down and up every day. He placed a hand on the door and felt how the defenses that protected his house rose at his touch. When he gets inside, the portrait of his mother received him with a grimace. “Why so sad Percy? Halloween is coming, you should be happy”
“I do not have many things left to cheer me up these days mom, much less since you left and there was no more Halloween with your cakes.” His mother's painting could only observe from its frame with his eyebrows on top and his lips pressed into a thin line, an expression that he has found himself doing when he has no good argument to rebut. He went to the kitchen to repeat his routine of a tea with a sandwich as dinner while looking at the window that overlooked his backyard. He saw a cat running by a fence and disappear into the night. With a wave of his wand, the dirty dishes washed alone in the sink while he checked if there was still food left for the weekend in the cabinets when a sound in the window caught his attention. It was Baelor with a packet on its claws. Percival opened the window and again said "white and brown Crup" so that the owl would leave the cream-colored package in his hands that had written in a blue color: "For Percival Graves. Kosciuszko Street, Brooklyn. From Tuatha Dé Danann Bookstore"
"At last!" he exclaimed recognizing the package, he had requested some books that could be difficult to get, but surely in Tuatha Dé Danann Bookstore could find them through the network of associated bookstores around the world.The package included a novel she had ordered for him, which at some point in his sixth year at Ilvermonrny had begun to read the fiction section available for the students who wanted another type of reading that was not related to the academy. He remembered the beginning and once in a while, he reproached himself for not having written down the name trusting his good memory. Years later and having spent weeks in recovery at the hospital, the book returned to raise his curiosity. He could finally know how it ended.
The other two books were not for him. One was about how to channel magic through the hands and without enchantments which had the green cover. Percival remembers practicing with a similar specimen when he was younger, but that book had been lost during a trip. The last book was about the history of magic in Latin America. The last time they met to talk, Credence told him that he had only managed to get books from European and United States history, but that he would like to learn the magic history from other places in the world.
Percival smiled slightly as he remembered that the only good thing about all the events of the previous year was having saved Credence, who was now beginning to learn to control his powers and join the magical world. Now he just had to find the right moment to deliver the books to the young man. He took the fiction book and with Baelor perched on his shoulder, he went to read at the newspaper table located next to the kitchen window overlooking his patio. After an hour the sun set, Baelor left him to go out hunting, the lights of the kitchen began to light themselves and Percival read the book until his eyes felt exhausted.