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Chapter Text

*He's an Auror, and a Hugger*

by: Whitegloves

I knew I'd stay in this fandom ;)

Enjoy! :D

Chapter 1: The Summon

Newton Scamander briskly walked in the dark corridors of the Ministry of Magic in all-purpose donning his blue coat and brown trousers with his freckles much visible in his red face and already flaming red brown hair and his usually gentle blue eyes not without a fire of anger.

On his left hand was a crumpled letter bearing the insignia of the Ministry of Magic. Getting summoned by the Ministry by no fault of his own— for the first time— Newt was in no mood to make attempts of acknowledging people as he marched on, leaving them all staring at him and following him with their eyes as he passed by but he didn't care. It was unusual for him to be found fuming, but it was most unusual for them to pay attention. No one had started recognizing Newt, not until his misadventure in New York and his role in the capture of the then feared wizard, Grindelwald which made him an instant celebrity in the Wizarding world. A kind of fame Newt was always so averse to for it meant socializing.

He was never good socializer. Unless they had protruding horns or wings or eat his skin. Then again, these people could eat him alive all right.

Whether they attempted to make his acquaintance, or whether they were doing it because of Theseus, Newt's older, more successful brother, the Magizoologist could care less. Because just about now he was marching towards what he believed to be unjust and was determined to set it right. Right now, he was going forward carrying the resolve to protect those he loved without fail because only he can. That suitcase would not be pulled from him without half the Wizarding World running with Bowtruckles and flabberworms sparking chaos. Don't they realize these creatures can outnumber them with earth and aquatic creatures combined? But the creatures won't—because they know nothing of war and violence! Why would these wizards even consider getting them involve…?

And how could Theseus not mention it?

His fist shaking, Newt raged through the next corridors and flights of stairs till he reached the floor much familiar to his feet. Ministry workers there recognized him, some of them even greeting him when so few would even bother lift an eyebrow. This was because this was his older brother's department and there Theseus, the Head of Aurors and the war hero was much respected and supported that all the warmth intended for him overflows even to his most infamous relative, his younger brother.

Newt ignored them. So focused was he with his intention, even preparing for his lines to make his brother realize he would never agree. The usual content of their meetings these days that would put even Grindelwald's cause to shame. Or may be not. Newt was just not happy with his brother at the moment, even when on most occasions they do get along… only if Theseus stopped summoning him to lunch and dinners.

Which he remembered Theseus hadn't been doing for weeks now. Not after Leta…

They need to have a separate meeting for that.

On his way, Newt took the last lift going down to the Head Auror's level. Flying messages flew overheads and owls hooted across carrying parcels and letters. Most things were in synchrony, even the occasional screams and shouts from different places which of course everyone was accustomed with however intense. As the lift moved with him and three other passenger he never glanced at (he felt them look in his direction and swore heard one of them mention Theseus' name), Newt's attention was drawn to his reflection on the double doors. He saw the same man that he was—tousled brown hair, pointed nose, high bone cheeks and blue eyes. It was like looking at Theseus except that it was never a compliment for Newt.

It was a funny thing with them brothers, no one could be similar yet different at the same time.

Whereas Theseus was outspoken and assertive being both a Prefect and Head Boy, Newt had difficulties connecting and fitting in. Whereas Theseus was in command and followed, Newt was perfectly happy settling down with his magical creatures in quiet isolation, far from people who had nothing in mind except being human. And whereas Theseus oversee the safety of the everyone else, Newt was there to take care of the neglected and even misinterpreted magical creatures that no one ever cared about. Their difference did not stop there, but Newt never made a file. He never was on a competition with Theseus, but everyone seemed determined to see the Magizoologist's flaws.

Especially when Theseus became the hero, the spotlight of being compared to his more successful brother had always been Newt's cross to bear. Not that he lay any blame to Theseus, his older brother deserved everything being capable and talented and Newt could only be proud of him—except that even Theseus can sometimes be overbearing.

And overbearing he was when it came to his so-called Ministry family. You could not find a more loyal man for the job than Theseus Scamander who never thought scouting his younger brother in an office to be an imposition. Like it was only natural that Newt should follow his steps. Newt could still recall that old argument they had just as he graduated per se. Theseus came home after a long while to congratulate him for pursuing studies even after getting expelled, and then informed him of the plan to have him apply in the Ministry as a junior assistant. Newt could still remember his first retort at his older brother. He would never forget that. And Theseus too. Newt had never seen Theseus so angry but the younger Scamander was not one to listen to him, no matter how much respect he had for his brother. In reconsideration, that was the only time Theseus ever called him irresponsible and selfish. Newt, of course, was hurt, but managed to run away anyway.

So maybe they will rekindle that old flame—of arguing over something Newt felt strongly about that walking away was not even an option. There were so much he wanted to tell Theseus, so much he wanted to say about this summon, and so many he could not even believe he would be able to say properly.

Theseus, who also was Newt's benefactor in so many respects like giving out a good word for him despite their disagreement before, had him enter in the Department for the Regulation and Magical Control using his connections when Newt's record of being expelled in Hogwarts should have earned him little title in the government. Though, Newt was able to prove himself able to use his own skills to get promoted, it was Theseus' influence that had others regard him, though not without comparison to his more efficacious brother. Theseus was not a fan of Newt's career, but in the end, his support meant something to Newt when their whole family was so against it. This support was what the Magizoologist was clinging on as the lift's door opened and he marched out to the Head Auror's Office to meet his brother.

And there, Newt found himself outside his brother's office, looking at the closed door with the surname in gold plate Scamander, Head Auror outside. How was he going to give his brother the gist of it again? Was he to storm inside and to demand explanation? To demand his older brother to do something otherwise he… otherwise he would not put up with it and make trouble? He can always leave a Niffler behind if Theseus becomes difficult.

Newt hesitated.

Believe it or not, Theseus was one of those people difficult to deal with no matter how charming other people may find him. Especially when you are on his wrong side. His familial connection could not overlap his firm moral code. But surely even Theseus would understand… Theseus was a war hero, but most importantly, he values lives above others—all kinds of lives be it magical, muggles or beasts. Newt believed that firmly having been exposed to his older brother's gentler side more than anyone in the world. Blinking hard at this found confidence on his older sibling, Newt knocked and entered the door.

Theseus was alone when he came in.

His older brother, eight years his senior with the same physical attributes except he was much taller and generally the well dresser between the two, Newt found his brother working. Wearing only his waistcoat with his white sleeves folded up on his elbow, Theseus was found standing behind his table with parchment planes coming in and out of the room. He was leaning on his table with both hands on its desk, looking over what appeared to be a document with pictures piled up beside it.

When Newt came in, Theseus glanced up briefly before turning back on the report. Newt hardly had the time to swallow; but remembering his purpose gave him the strength much needed for this confrontation.

Well, it wasn't a confrontation per se. More like—questioning? Verifying?

"Newt?" Theseus' in command tone got the younger Scamander looking up with a start. Theseus always had commanding tone when in the perimeters of his work. Like he always meant business. Or he caught his brother in the middle of business, Newt could never tell. Still unsettled, Newt took steps forward till he was close enough to touch the table and stand before his older brother who was surveying him with understanding in his eyes. So Theseus knew? Of course he does.

Newt gritted his teeth.

"I won't let the Ministry use my magical creatures for their campaign." He said it in one breather, letting the letter on his hands fall on the table without breaking eye contact with his older brother who stood straight at this claim. "You know using magical creatures won't help with the war against Grindelwald—that's only prolonging the battle and wasting lives. No amount of dangerous magical beasts can save us from this—only we can do something about it, Theseus."

Theseus was quiet for a moment, studying Newt's face with calmness. The same face that could hold other expressions such as disappointment and rage. Newt had seen it all. But Theseus had always been patient with him. Always patient.

"I know, I perfectly made myself clear with the Minister." Theseus nodded as he took the letter while Newt let out a sigh of relief at finding a supporter—and Theseus' support always meant something to him, "I told him our magical creatures are not meant to fight in this battle. They seemed to have the lasting impression that we can also breed dragons and use them to our advantage like in the first world war. Remember the Ukrainian Ironbellys? They seemed to think something like it might happen again."

"It will if they don't stop pestering me." Newt muttered.

His brother gave him a narrowed look. "Cooperate, Newt. With these trying times we cannot be divided. We all have to work together if we want to win the war."

"I am willing to help to the extent of my ability, but I won't stand for it when the innocent magical beasts would be used as sacrifice—"

"Or ran amok and get uncontrollable. I am against it too." Theseus sighed with reservation as he shook head, "The amount of people eaten by the dragons in the war…"

"It's not like they're any treat for dragons." Newt said despondently, earning him an exasperated glare from his older brother.

"That's the kind of attitude I would advise you not to show to them later." Theseus quietly raised his wand and in one flick, got the other files from its shelves. "You know you can't always walk your way out of every situation just because you can't handle it."

"I can handle my own business— I can handle any meeting not exceeding thirty minutes give or take. But I don't want any discussion with your hypocritical team mates expecting me to use my magical creatures for their own benefit."

"It is not for their benefit—its for us to win this war."

"And you will be creating war right under your nose if you don't stop coming after my magical creatures!"

Theseus crumpled the paper on his hand and gave Newt a piercing gaze. "Newt, have you noticed how possessive you've become of these magical beasts? You breed them yes, but that does not mean they belong to you."

Newt stared at him a little taken aback. "I don't mean to own them. I meant to protect them."

"Well, you better stop using that word when you have the meeting with the Head of Magical Law Enforcement—"

"Travers?" Newt couldn't help feeling sick. "You know I don't want to deal with him."

"I thought you can handle your own business?"

"But he's… he' not even human. You don't see him caring about anything or anyone save his own skin, do you? He's cruel, Theseus, and he would have ordered the arrest of all house elves who were given socks by their masters because they abide no law of ours if he was given the opportunity. You don't like him either!"

"It's not a matter of liking him or not—it's about what job he delivers."

"Oh, yes. The job." Newt glowered, "What's with you aurors thinking everything is all about careers?"

It was that moment that Newt realized he had stepped out of line. Theseus raised an eyebrow in his direction and if possible, even gave him his coldest stare. Newt knew that expression well, but he had never found a way to get used to it no matter how many times it was thrown at him. As a boy, he had always looked up to his older brother. Theseus was the perfect example of an older sibling, his perfect model. The moment Newt found he could not live to Theseus' expectation was also the moment Newt realized he could never follow his shadow. But he never had once disrespected Theseus no matter how many arguments they fall into. Because Theseus was also always in the right, it so happens that Newt was more of the troublemaker. And Theseus was always forgiving.

He lowered his eyes and pressed his lips.

"I didn't mean you." He said in a whisper, "You're different."

"That doesn't make me feel any better, you are condemning the Ministry of Magic whose done nothing but to protect all worlds. I wish you didn't have to be so closed minded about this."

Newt heard that before, "Not all worlds. This is the same Ministry that has labelled so many magical creatures incorrectly that harbored fear to all—resulting in the hunt and extinction of most magical beasts. This place breed the hunters and you know that."

"Newt," Theseus' tone was hard, and Newt looked his brother in the eye with the same glint—and both knew they were embarking in a long argument. "You cannot blame the Ministry of the its past mistakes. Isn't that why you joined us? Because you want to set things right. Can't you see the reason why you're standing here in front of me now? You were given a job- it's to protect your magical creatures against this order from above. And you are going to make a fool out of yourself if you think indecisiveness or evasiveness will save you the trouble. And giving them rude epitaphs is not helping, either. You don't have to jump to all aurors just because they think differently from you. You don't have to judge us."

"Us?" Newt shook his head. "I never judged you."

"I don't think you mean what you say." Theseus suddenly said a bit quietly, and if possible, even a bit sadly that got the younger Scamander watching him with furrowed eyebrows. "Anyways, Newt, you will have to attend to this summon and do your best to explain. I don't think the Minister has quite forgotten the trouble with the Ironbellies but he is sure to inquire suggestion from you on how to utilize the magical creatures."

"They're not objects to be utilized as weapons!"

Theseus's face grew grim. "And do you really think only the Ministry has set their eyes on them? Don't you think Grindelwald would be looking for the same opportunity with Level XXXXX wizard-killer creatures?"

Newt could not think of any counter to that when back in the first war, he was one of those fighting in the front lines of Eastern sides to help with the Ukrainian Ironbelly situation. It was a confidential program that had gone wrong. The dragon itself, though not easy to tame, was persuaded in the end. By the time Newt was able to get its trust however, the members of Ministry Reinforcement came and angered it further—ending in a bloodbath as the dragon ate them one by one. It was not the likes of Grindelwald to miss using the powerful creatures knowing that it would bring fear about the muggle population who all these times believed them to be mere part of myth.

His silence and uncertainly suddenly brought Theseus to walk around the table and before Newt knew it, his brother was holding him on arm's length. There was a decided understanding in his eyes that Newt always liked to see for it never made him feel isolated or alone. Like he belonged. Only Theseus has that effect on him. Probably confounded him when they were children.

"Look, Newt, it does sound daunting at first, but believe me the Ministry is only beginning to take precautions. We do learn from the past. We don't want to get caught off guard. Not in this war when everything is at stake."

Newt was looking at Theseus without holding the fear in his eyes. Theseus recognized that and gripped his shoulder more.

"As long as they don't take the initiative to use them as weapons." The younger Scamander said.

"I will do my best that they won't." the older Scamander frowned this time, "And that is also against the statue of magical creature's welfare which both you and I are very familiar with."

"I have a mind to walk away if ever they mentioned it."

"That wouldn't be giving them a good impression."

"I never had a good impression to give them to begin with."

"It never hurts to try."

Newt sighed inwardly and shook Theseus' hand away from his shoulder. "I'm not you, Theseus. You know I'm never good at following anything. Especially if it concerns my magical creatures."

"There you go again," Theseus' gentle expression disappeared as both his hands flew automatically to his waist. "I said stop using that word—you can't own them. They're not pets—"

"You're right—they're my friends."

It was Theseus turn to pause. And then his hand was up on his forehead, like how Newt would usually see him whenever they were having an argument. The younger Scamander instantly looked away, knowing his older brother would never stop being disappointed. At the end of the day, Theseus will be Theseus, his older brother who had high expectations of him. It always made him feel crappy.

"I'm going." Newt turned away swiftly and was halfway out of the room before Theseus was calling him back.

"Newt—!"

He stopped. He felt Theseus approach him and didn't bother looking back. If Theseus was determined to stand by the Ministry's side then so be it. He does feel a little betrayed—but no one can ever move Theseus when his mind was so set on it. They were not brother for nothing.

"Newt—"

"I understand already—" he whirled around and found himself staring his brother in the face.

"No—you don't. Newt, you said it to me yourself," there was a serious look in his older brother's face now, "Even Grindelwald underestimates small creatures that will be his downfall. You proved it once the first time you caught him—and proved it twice when your niffler retrieved that locket. You may never know. Open your mind, Newt and talk to us. Maybe you're the one underestimating the magical beasts now. Overprotection is a crime you know, at least for you and for me."

Theseus' words sunk in deep in the Magizoologist who was left silent for a while. If Theseus meant he was overprotective of his Ministry and Newt of his creatures then yes, he might be correct there. As they both grew up, Theseus had nothing in mind except joining the Ministry and battling for the moral cause. He was not one to campaign for violence, but he was always ready to fight for others. One of the things he admires his brother for, only that, Newt learned how most wizards are not really like his older brother.

Hesitating again and shifting on his feet, Newt caught his brother's eyes. "I don't want to meet any of those people, I'm never good with them…"

Theseus only stared at him. Newt travelled his eyes around, before finding its way back to his older brother.

"Will you be there?"

Theseus put both hands inside his trousers' pockets.

"I am part of the deciding group. Or at least the man they expected to convince you. I've never once succeeded in that job, have I?"

Newt shook his head. Theseus gave a long, patient sigh.

"In any case, dealing with Travers is one thing. Dealing with Yaxley is another."

"Yaxley?" Newt frowned so hard it hurt his forehead. Yaxley was another Auror from a pureblood family that was also always on Newt's case. He didn't know why these thugs were always surrounding him. Theseus said it's because he never stood up for himself. Back in school he was also a major target of bullies, some of them only left him alone because some of the seniors would come to his aid, solely because of their respect to the legacy that Theseus Scamander has left behind.

And like some kind of magical ear force was on him, the door of Theseus' office flew open and there, like he was summoned by the devil himself, was Abernathy Yaxley, one of the oldest Aurors in command in London. One of the contenders to be a Head Auror, Theseus beat Abernathy Yaxley to the position and everyone knew of the tension between the two aurors ever since Scamander took office.

"Speak of the devil." Newt heard Theseus whisper as the Yaxley's tall form stepped in the room. Clad in gray cloak and with balding hair, Yaxley was one of those purebloods possessing blonde hair and dead dark eyes. Often reminding him vultures, Yaxley was also one of those believing that purebloods are superior. Newt never liked any of them. You can always tell if a person is good by looking at how they treat their equal. Yaxley treats his colleagues like trash. Newt didn't need to see him with a magical being, let alone a house elf. So, making an excuse to go, he stumbled forward, only to be blocked by Yaxley's tall form.

"Scamander." Yaxley started, but with his eyes on Theseus. "Still dealing with that wearisome younger brother of yours, I see." His eyes set on Newt who didn't meet his eyes.

"I believe manners comes first, Yaxley." Theseus said coolly without batting an eyelid, "Otherwise I might forget mine."

Yaxley smirked smugly with his thin brows wiggling in Theseus' direction. Newt gave one look at the floor, and then went pass the tall Auror who chuckled at his retreat. Before Newt could come out of the door however, Yaxley was once again provoking Theseus.

"I heard you forced your way in the meeting with your little brother. Travers wasn't in favor of that. He said it'd made no difference whether you were there or not considering your brother never thought highly of you to begin with. Aren't you going to be useless there, Scamander? Like how you were back there in Paris? Losing your touch, are you?"

Theseus stiffened but before he could say anything else, Yaxley's attention was taken when he saw a brown tousled hair was once again standing in front of him. Looking down, he found Newton Scamander staring him in the face with jaw clenched and eyes unwavering.

Yaxley frowned. "What are you looking at?"

But Newt's mind was set, his hands clenching in fists, ready to raise hell—

"Newt!" Theseus was already beside his brother with a firm hold on his shoulder. "Newt!" he repeated with much emphasis as his younger brother never showed sign of backing down.

The younger Scamander blinked back at his older brother and then down the floor.

"And what exactly would that action mean?" Yaxley asked testily, his hand already reaching for his wand. Theseus glared at the auror with a hand still holding back his younger brother.

"Give everything a meaning and I would gladly tell you your attempt of offense didn't come unnoticed."

"Are we now prohibited to speak of facts?" Yaxley grinned, hands falling down his side.

"If it does not bother you getting sent to the St. Mungo's immediately." Theseus was already holding his wand. Newt glanced at the older Scamander and then to Yaxley. It was one of those traits that people would say a kind of spice to Theseus Scamander's character. Bold and brave he was, and never one to retreat in the face of confrontation. It was one of those attributes that earned him his Order of Merlin after rebelling and leading a group of newly recruited Aurors to aid the Muggles in World War I that saved thousands of lives. Theseus, who by nature, was a leader and a hero—was never one to miss a duel when it so presented itself.

Because everyone knows he would win hands down.

Yaxley seemed aware of it too and before the brothers, he gave a short snort, before turning his heels and leaving.

Theseus gave a short sigh, before glancing at his younger brother, looking quite pleased.

"You sure are full of surprises."

"I was venting." Newt muttered.

"You can vent on me." Theseus suggested, but Newt shook his head vigorously, his hands relaxing finally.

"You already have your hands full without me adding to the trouble."

It was then that the Scamander brothers found themselves exchanging silent looks, and then both bursting into laughter they haven't shared in a long while. It was because of the length that they haven't stayed together that Newt often forgot that behind his older brother's hardened exterior of Head Auror was still his light-hearted brother who would listen to his whims as a child and let him fly his mother's hippogriff when he was just five years old.

"Oh, believe me, Newt," Theseus said with much adoration and to Newt's horror, found himself buried in his brother's quick embrace, "My hands are not full enough when it comes to you!"

He also often forgot how an easy hugger his older brother was. Some things never change. Or in this case, Theseus never changes. Newt knew he was the one who needed to be more of a brother to Theseus, he just couldn't bring himself to admit to it. He was never good with it.

Stumbling as he fell backwards, Newt bid Theseus a quick goodbye and left without another word. Leaving Theseus still beaming after him, after a short display of his younger brother's affection.

Grindelwald's patience was never his best quality. Sure, he afforded to wait silently as he progressed slowly in finding his Obscurus, but the toll of still waiting after capturing it as it was still unable to contain its power was thinning his limitations. He has a whole plan and concepts webbed together to restart everything, to make things right with Witches and Wizards rightfully claiming their place at the top. He could have taken the world a long time ago, he could have had everything in his hand but no—the mere notion of someone enough to overthrow him at a moment's notice—the presence of Albus Dumbledore still in power was a real threat and one that must be eliminated at all cost.

He knew a blood pact would sooner or later be useless to Albus when the wizard turns serious. Thinking of this, he could only rely on Credence to eliminate the man first. Dumbledore may not even be aware of who Credence Barebone is, but once he does, it would be too late. He only needed time. Only that, all this wait was making Grindelwald feel foolish.

The rally itself was the beginning. He wanted to do more.

But Credence was useless at the moment. Promising. But useless. He needs another distraction for now.

That was when Grindelwald found a Daily Prophet on his table. Staying in the old villa in the remotest part of the mountain, the newspaper was from Britain, it was one that was brought by one of those who followed him from France months ago. The Daly Prophet it was called and Grindelwald would not have given it any attention had he not recognized the three figures in its front page. Quietly taking the paper, he immediately recognized the pretty woman in the middle whose death he caused by his own hands.

Why. Leta Lestrange.

Beside her stood two familiar faces that made Grindelwald raise the paper to have a better look. Ah yes, he recognized the Scamander's. One of whom was his captor in New York who caused him many days in confinement, but the mistake was of his own and his disappointment that Credence was easily taken out. The other was unmistakably his correspondents who had thought him to be Percival Graves. The man working in the Ministry of Magic and the Head Auror. He has heard many things of this other Scamander during their correspondents and whose important news from Europe saved him from moving carelessly. Theseus Scamander.

Too bad the man chose them after the rally, and after Grindelwald made a persuasive speech. Then he remembered Leta Lestrange whom perished in the fight. His fiancé. It made Grindelwald smile. So, he made an enemy of the Scamanders that way. He expected them to be in the front lines of the fight against him, not knowing that only death awaited their struggle. What a waste of all those skills and talents. But then he supposed having a War Hero die by his hands would only bring the wizarding world morale instead of misery and hopelessness. A war hero was the last thing they needed. Grindelwald stared at the face of the Head of Auror.

Wouldn't it be perfect if the Head Auror was one of those people who believed in his cause?

Wouldn't it be perfect to correspond with him again as a spy?

And wouldn't it be just perfect if he also becomes a distraction to Albus Dumbledore whose trust in the Scamander brothers was obvious the way it was written on the paper? He did offer to be a godfather in the supposed wedding.

Grindelwald deeply considered this with the glint in his eyes returning. A little action from the Ministry wouldn't hurt. He knew this Scamander's reputation—all his connection and how he was a force to be reckoned with. He who had eclipsed that of the younger Scamander who was just lucky enough to earn glory from capturing the Dark Wizard. No siblings could be more different. He now wondered how Newton Scamander would feel if he unmasks yet another of Grindelwald's disguises…?

Feeling a slight stir of thrill, Grindelwald looked at the open window on his left. Sun was set. Somewhere in Europe, it was a perfect time to make an uncalled visit to one of the Scamanders. And he should make it himself.

Why not? He was dealing with a War Hero, wasn't he? It's only proper that he make the visit personal.

In a heartbeat, Gellert Grindelwald was gone.

-TBC-

Chapter Text

*He's an Auror, and a Hugger*

by: Whitegloves

I own nothing except the tissues ;o

Enjoy! :D 

Chapter 2: The Visitor

“You know I can’t take you. This meeting is different. And it doesn’t help to sulk.”

Newt, with a left hand under his chin, his elbow on the table, was staring at his Bowtruckle buddy, Pickett with a gloomy look on his face. He was in the sitting room of his quiet house, a place where he looked entirely out of place as his real world was in the basement to the menagerie of his magical creatures. But Newt has business to attend to in the Ministry and so waiting for the hour to strike, he waits quietly with a cup of tea on the table and Pickett in front of him with a mug of butterbeer it was swinging at.

“You like that, don’t you?” Newt said as he scratched his ears, “Stay here and you can have all of that. At least I can convince myself not to bring a drunk Bowtruckle.”

Pickett had its back on the Magizoologist as it attempted to swing up on the mug’s handle. In no time, it was clambering on the side till it was able to dip its head on the mug. Newt gave a short sigh.

“Now you really can’t come. Imagine their reaction in the meeting if you appeared there drunk. You’ll show them how dangerous you are, Pick. They might actually choose you to fight in the war.”

Pickett raised its head and gave a whine and stuck its head on the butterbeer again.

Newt waited, his eyes staring into space as he tried to remember what his brother told him. The Minister was going to be there himself with Travers, Yaxley and the other members from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures’ three different divisions. He’d be representing the Beast Division of course, but the other two divisions as far as he can tell do not have as much say in the matter. The beasts are the ones considered to be utilized in this war designed by humans just because their reasoning isn’t quite the same with others. Why can’t humans just prosper and bathe in peace like Bowtruckles do? They do tend to bully their playmates, but they know how to stop when a leaf has fallen on the ground. Bowtruckles are smart creatures. Why can’t humans…?

And he is aware of how powerful the beasts are, he is the man to know. It was not that he sees them as cuddly as they ought to be seen, but magical beasts are both a danger not only to humans but to themselves as well. Remembering how he found the Chinese Zouwu, fierce, angry and injured yet scared—how many of these powerful creatures do the Ministry think controllable? Even Theseus admitted going against it.

Heaving a deep sigh, Newt’s eyes fell on Pickett again and gasped when he saw the mug of butterbeer half empty with Pickett no where in sight. Sitting straight, he looked around the table, then jumped down to look underneath—that was when the doorbell rang and Newt bumped his head on the table getting up. Pickett was nowhere there, the little bugger. He hastened to stand up, eyes towards the doorway. Still distracted at Pickett’s disappearance, Newt started towards the door after the second bell rang. That must’ve been Bunty who was running late. She was supposed to look after the menagerie on his absence and while she was quite adept for the job, Bunty has this tendency to request for personal instructions not left on notes which was very professional of her. If Newt was going to assign anyone to replace him, that would be Bunty who takes her job seriously. Only half an hour left and he was supposed to meet Theseus in the Ministry for the summon.

Opening the door, however, Newt had the surprise of his life to find himself staring at four red headed ladies all staring up at him, beaming. Blinking and obviously flabbergasted, Newt stood there, unmoving at all the attention he was receiving from these strangers. Questions after questions jumped one after another and the urge to awkwardly slam the door and forget their presence moved him to rub the door’s knob in silent contemplation.

“It’s Mr. Scamander!” said the tallest of the four with a wide smile which made Newt blink for wherever he puts his eyes, there seemed to be four pairs of eyes ready to meet his. Oh yes, he thought decidedly, he’d rather be in front of the Ministry officials, now please. The four ogled at him with visible twinkle in their eyes, much like how a Wampus cat’s eyes would brighten upon seeing its prey.

“How may I help you?” Newt began softly, hoping he couldn’t.

“Oh Mr. Scamander, we are the Wagtail sisters—I am Honey, this is Hether my eldest sister, and then Hellen and Hester and we are your biggest fans!” squealed the youngest of the four who was almost directly staring at the Magizoologist.

A beat, and Newt’s eyes went left and right without having any eye contacts.

“Excuse me?”

“Well, fan is a strong word,” said Hether with a forced smile, leaving Newt staring at them, lost for words. That was when a familiar voice from the back broke the silence that fell—and Bunty emerge from the middle looking disgruntled.

“Alright, you four—you’ve seen him. You can go home now.”

Newt relaxed at seeing his assistant and managed to finally sigh in relief. She stood in front of him apologetically.

“I’m so sorry, Newt, these are my friends—they insisted on coming when they heard I was on my way to work—I couldn’t shake them off no matter how many times I tried.”

“Wh- why would they want to see me?”

“Because you are a Scamander!” said Hellen and before Newt knew what was happening, she had forced her way inside, smoothly followed by the other three while Newt and Bunty exchange looks, the assistant shaking her head in apology. Newt, not wanting to close the door, but worried that some of the creatures may get passed, silently shut it with a heavy heart while weighing down if he should remain outside it.

When he looked back, he found the three sisters by the hearth of the room, looking over some photos while the youngest was standing two feet from him with an awestruck look in her eyes. Avoiding her, the Magizoologist put both hands inside his pocket and waited for anyone to declare their purpose. Half an hour never seemed that long before and he’s never wanted to be in the Ministry this bad.

“Why don’t you have pictures of your brother?” said Hester, looking back at him from the photos by the side table. Looking around the sitting room wasn’t exactly like looking at a treasure cove. Even for a muggle’s standard, it was empty with lamps and books on tables.

Newt was caught surprised, remembering the only photo he’s ever kept was of Leta and Tina safely tucked on his suitcase.

“Why would I keep a picture of Theseus?” the idea of a picture of his brother in his suitcase was… not comprehensible.

“Because!” said the outspoken tall sister, Hether, looking at Newt with a matter-of-fact tone. “He’s only a celebrated war hero and one of our generations’ finest gentleman! You must be worshipping the ground he walks on from the sideline, aren’t you, Mr. Scamander?” she giggled for reasons Newt could not understand.

Helplessly, he turned to Bunty whose eyes was transfixed on him too. Blinking fast, she turned to her friends.

“Theseus Scamander is not here, how many times do I have to tell you?” she moved around, tapping and pulling on their shoulders, “Now be off—Mr. Scamander here has an urgent meeting in the Ministry and you lot know well he can’t be bothered with your nonsense about his brother—”

“I’m not here for his brother,” squeaked Honey, the youngest and in a flash, Newt found her in front of him carrying a copy of his book with her cheeks flushing. “I really am a fan, Mr. Scamander, and I’ve heard so much about you—and the wild magical beasts—and your suitcase—!”

Newt have no words for her except a meek, “Thank you.”

“Would you mind signing this? Flourish and Blotts said you never want book signing.”

“And there’s a reason for that.” Newt said, hesitatingly taking the book and heading towards the table where he quickly signed it. Behind him, he could feel her hover.

“I really am wondering about that suitcase, Mr. Scamander.” She said eagerly.

“I’m sorry,” Newt said as he shut the books close and looked at her eyes once, remembering that his suitcase was safely left inside his bedroom, before moving away towards the coat hanger and grabbing his blue coat. “But no tours allowed.”

He smiled at her as he pulled on the coat and then looked around to find that Bunty had successfully trapped the three sisters in front of the door with a stern look on her face.

“But we want to talk to him a little more.” Complained Hester, “We want to ask his brother’s description—how is he outside work—what’s he like to eat for dinner—his favorite hangout place!”

“Are you all demented? At times like this when we’re all possibly in danger,” Bunty was flaring, “You have the leisure time to ask stupid questions? Of course, Mr. Scamander’s too busy—and he’s older brother’s working in the Ministry—you really think he’ll have time to hang out and have a drink with Grindelwald?”

That hushed the three sisters while Newt sighed deeply again. “Well… he is an Auror. And hugger.”

The sisters stared at Newt, and then at each other with excited expressions.

“Ask him about how Theseus is doing after Leta!” blurted Hellen as if she couldn’t help herself.

A crash of frying pans on the kitchen all made them jump back and look away. Newt, who was the last one to look at the source of the disturbance, was quietly staring at the Hellen for a moment, before dropping his eyes and pressing his lips.

“Pickett.” He said to Bunty and he moved swiftly to the kitchen with a frown.

Ask Theseus about Leta? She wants to ask him that so casually when Newt hasn’t the courage…?

Seeing the frying pans on the floor, Newt looked underneath the table again and found nothing. Looking around, he picked up the pans and placed them on the counter carefully. It wasn’t that he hasn’t braved through it yet, or hasn’t thought of asking his brother, but finding a reason to talk about it was not Newt’s specialty. After her death, Theseus has found every means to spend his days in the Ministry, determined to see that her death was not in vain. This would mean stopping Grindelwald at all cost. As a general rule, Theseus can always handle his affairs. Not once has his older brother asked him except for the frequent request that Newt put his head together and not make trouble. There were little favors to be given as it was always Theseus to give it. And then before Newt realized it, it seemed that Theseus has made his resolved to move on.

The only remaining question to be answered was has he, Newt, moved on?

It made him blink on the kitchen tile and the urge to see Tina came out of nowhere.

Then scream ensued from the sitting room that rattled Newt and, in a flash, he was running with his wand at hand.

“What’s happening?” he asked, ready to dodge in case he was attacked—only to see that another lethal and unexpected visitor had come in the flesh and was right by his door in his black three-piece suit, getting smothered by the three sisters, looking quite startled but polite at the same time—

“Theseus?” Newt started in his own amusement to see the older Scamander standing his ground firmly with no trouble keeping up with their enthusiasm as he still towered above them. He lowered his wand. “What are you doing here?”

“Newt,” Theseus replied and with a gracious bow at the three maidens, headed towards his youngest brother while Bunty closed the door, preferably to secure the lock down of any escaped creatures. “I meant to wait in the Ministry but thought of… heading here, have a talk. I didn’t think you’d have so many visitors.” Theseus grinned.

Newt knew that grin. Theseus had a way of teasing him when it came to the opposite gender’s acquaintances. Having Tina around was already uncomfortable with his older brother smiling at him every time they would make eye contact in her presence. Which then would always push Newt to remind Theseus that Tina was the same Auror who overpowered him in the French Ministry as a comeback. That never got Theseus however as he would often brush the whole matter like a sport—but only because the brothers believed that had Theseus been serious, a duel of two Aurors could have happened then. Tina was spectacular, truly spectacular… but against Theseus, she never stood a chance. Except that time. Oh, yes, she was still remarkable. And it was still one of his best memories.

“They’re… they didn’t really come for me.” Newt said without smiling, knowing what lies outside the house and into the Ministry, and a talk with Theseus. “They’re Bunty’s friends. Anyway, I was already on my way outside… Just… just let me check on Pickett.” And he disappeared towards his room, but not before he heard the ladies come after his older brother again.

Typical of his brother to be surrounded by admiring eyes. Like a hobby, Theseus had a way of easing himself to people’s approval without even trying. Newt could never find the ground to be the same. He checked his study room, even the extended room of his library for magical creatures but there was no loose Bowtruckle there. Where would a drunken creature who loves clambering things, picking locks and Newts be off to after a happy hour with a glass of Butterbeer? Distinctly, he heard yet another scream as he entered the kitchen again. Probably clamoring over Theseus’, Newt didn’t think women were supposed to make that sound over a male. Much like an Erumpent during mating season.

Smiling at the comparison, Newt noticed that the cupboard for butterbeers was opened and that something was clanking inside of it. Breaking into another smile, the Magizoologist carefully reached the cabinet, opened it slowly and there found, hiking his way to one of the closed bottles, albeit swaying, was Pickett.

“There you are,” Newt exhaled as he took the half asleep Bowtruckle in his hands. “I’ve been looking. I can’t leave you attacking all bottles around.” He smiles more as Pickett answered in hums and hopped at the back of his hand. Newt straightened and was just about to put him inside his pocket when he heard Bunty calling for him urgently. Running again, he met her in the middle of the corridor—she looked panic stricken.

“Newt—” she began as he remained calm and listened, obviously something happened, “The girl—Honey—she entered the basement without anyone noticing— the Kelpie pulled her in!”

Oh.

That’s what happened.

Newt was running again, this time to the flight of the stairs of his basement where the enclosures of the menagerie was located—towards the stairs leading to the patch of black water. She saw the three sisters there by the edge of the pond, all leaning down, embracing and sobbing in concern over the fourth Wagtail sister in the middle—Honey was choking and soaking wet, her red hair plastered and dripping on her face. She was crying.

“What happened?” he asked, dropping on his knees and looking over her in case she’s been bitten anywhere.

“She was pulled just as we entered the basement. It was horrible!” answered one—

“Why did you all enter the basement?” Newt was glad there no visible injury.

“Theseus noticed she was missing when we told him we four sisters came—” answered the other—

“He jumped in the water to pull her!”

“My brother?” Newt was in the process of looking around but had Bunty, who just sprinted after him call him—

“Newt, he was pulled back by the Kelpie just as he threw Honey back!”

Newt was on his feet at once and stood right at the edge, looking at the black peaceful water with no sign of disturbance. When after many seconds no brother of Kelpie of his emerge, the Magizoologist opted to jump right in by removing his coat and dropping it on the floor—only to see ripples disturb the darkness—and then seconds again and the head of Theseus Scamander resurfaced. Newt watched his older brother swim back to the edge and then reached a hand towards him and pulled him to the ground.

“Did you stun it?” he asked immediately, not staying long beside Theseus as he planned to dive head first to check.

“If only it’s that easy.” Theseus said rather scathingly as he pulled himself together, his whole body drenched and cold. He received Newt’s shocked expression. “I didn’t stun it.” he pressed, “And before you worry about any Kelpies, you might as well worry about your lady visitor! She nearly drowned.”

Newt looked over the four Wagtail sisters with Bunty who had draped Honey with a thick blanket. Mutually exchanging glances, Bunty ushered her up to the sitting room with the three elder sisters walking in her wake, leaving the Scamander brothers alone. But before Theseus could say anything else, Newt had already gone for the water. It didn’t take him long to find the gigantic semi-spectral horse to meet him, as if expecting another treat and that’s when Newt realized when he put his arms around its neck that the Kelpie was playing. It must’ve pulled the Wagtail girl thinking of it as a playmate—then Theseus came—whatever it is that Theseus did to subdue it, there was no evident pain on the magical creature’s side.

Making the no harm was done, he kicked away from the Kelpie which actually pushed him back onto the surface till he was once again at the edge of the pond, breathing heavily on the ground as he got on his feet. There, he found his older brother waiting for him in his dry clothes and crossed arms about his chest. On his arm hung Newt’s blue coat, but Theseus’ expression said he dared Newt to get it.

The younger Scamander got to his feet, dried himself up and stared awkwardly at his brother.

Theseus looked gravely at him.

“She could have been killed.” He said quietly, not moving from his spot.

Newt looked at him. “Well, she didn’t.”

“And you still prioritize your magical creatures.” Theseus shook his head in dissatisfaction, making Newt frown.

“She was okay, I checked, and you saved her—Bunty was there, too and her sisters—

“That’s not my point—”

“I specifically told her not to come— she didn’t listen!”

“And that justifies leaving her to other people?”

“Who else is left to worry for the magical creatures if I don’t?”

“You actually believe I would hurt it knowing I’m inside a hospital for creatures? How heartless do you think I am?”

“In saving humans, Theseus, you know there’s every bit of possibility.” Newt said solemnly, making his older brother to stare at him in disbelief and to shake his head again. Newt was almost apologetic at his own accusation but he was rebuffed at the idea that he didn’t care for the lady. Of course, he did, and Theseus knew that. But considering the circumstances, what Newt said was the truth. He was a care giver of Magical Creatures, and if there was any sign that they have been mistreated, it was his job to save them.

And Theseus too. Above anything else, his main concern will always be the well-beings of humans.

The difference that matters…

“Well, I didn’t.” Theseus said rather firmly as he straightened with a testy look on his face, “What gave you the faintest idea I planned to slay the beast?”

“Because it was not your priority to protect them. It’s not the Auror’s part—”

 “Here we go again,” Theseus closed his eyes with a sigh, Newt shaking his head. “When will you understand that I am not your enemy?”

“The moment you stop trying to convince me you’re not here otherwise.” Newt dropped his eyes on the floor but the frown remained on his face, “That’s why you really came here, isn’t it? To convince me to let the Ministry do what they want to them?” he looked up, meeting his older brother’s eyes with contempt, not directly at his brother but to the idea he represents, “The Ministry wants to make sure they will encounter no problem before the meeting later, don’t they?”

Theseus did not react and Newt gritted his teeth at the revelation.

“It’s not as bad as you think—” began the older Scamander, “It is a fact that Grindelwald is recruiting even giants—”

“Yes, and a kelpie is a good asset against them. That’s the reason you didn’t hurt it, did you? Get out, Theseus.” Newt turned around with hands on his waist with his anger welling up. He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation, this fall out, right before the Ministry meeting. Okay, then maybe he was a little angry at his older brother for being the Ministry’s pet—but wasn’t Theseus smart enough not to be controlled? Which only means he too thought of the aid the magical creatures could give. But Newt knew that Theseus meant no harm. Newt was just angry. So angry because what was inevitable was finally coming, and there was nothing he could do about it but to vent.

You can vent on me. He remembered Theseus saying.

With a sigh and words that weren’t meant to be said out loud, Newt was surprised to even hear his own voice say it:

“Leta would understand.”

His eyes widening, Newt quickly turned in Theseus direction.

His brother was not looking at him, but at the space in the middle of the cages in front of him. Quietly, Theseus nodded.

“You’re right. She would understand you.” The older Scamander then straightened, an act that got Newt standing properly as well with his heart hammering on his chest. He had just said something more offensive than anyone ever told his brother. And to think just awhile ago, he was thinking of how to brought up her subject into the light—so as to know what Theseus must be going through. He did, but at the wrong moment. Newt could only bite his lips.

“Theseus—”

“It’s alright.” Theseus gave him a piercing look. “Just know this, Newt, I didn’t harm your kelpie not because of whatever scheme you think the Ministry is doing, but because I happen to care of what my younger brother would say had I hurt one of the magical beasts he’s sworn to protect.”

Newt stood quietly as his blue coat was sent in his direction using a spell, and then Theseus turned and was climbing the stairs in no time. The Magizoologist sighed but then noticed that his older brother had stopped in the middle of the stairs with one hand clutching on the railings as if something was stopping him.

“Are you okay?” Newt called, suddenly remembering he forgot to ask of how his brother had escaped the Kelpie.

Theseus considers this for a moment, before he half turns to Newt.

“The Ministry will be insisting an inspection one of these days. You better make a list of what you plan to show them as legal. I noticed some of these magical creatures…” he travelled his eyes on the enclosure, “can qualify as something that is smuggled illegally.”

Newt hesitated. “You won’t tell them?”

This time, Theseus did look hurt as he grappled something internally, then mustering his expression he shook his head.

“If I did, you’d have no home to call and that’s more disturbing.” Theseus then silently headed upstairs without another word. Newt pressed his lips and watched him go. Newt understood that he disappointed Theseus again. He too understood that he had subjected his brother to his unfair judgment but he was expecting the man to retort back. He would have appreciated it too if Theseus had lashed at him for mentioning Leta’s name. What was suddenly wrong with Theseus?

Quietly, too, he wore his coat and followed his brother with one last look at the menagerie, he locked the door.

When Newt came up, the Wagtail sisters were all thanking Theseus who was refusing them any embrace. They seemed to believe he was a hugger according to someone’s source. But Theseus only patted Honey’s head who was now clutching her signed copy of the Fantastic Beasts. The moment she saw Newt, she retreated by the door looking embarrassed. Newt pressed a smile at her, an indication that it was alright. When they were all gone with Bunty closing the door and ten minutes left for the meeting, the Scamander brothers found themselves standing right outside Newt’s house with grim expressions.

“You should go ahead to the Ministry.” Theseus told him, making Newt shoot him a side glance.

“You won’t be there?”

“I have to…go home.” Theseus frowned, “It won’t take long.” And then he disapparated.

Newt was left staring at the space that his older brother had left. With the urge to follow Theseus for his unusual behavior, but also not wanting to make the rift between them any wider, the Magizoologist disapparated to the Ministry.

Theseus apparated at the premises of his Victorian home.

With a struggle, he unlocked his white door and went in, not bothering to turn on the lights. He headed straight for the living room where he unavoidably had to flick lumos on his wand. If only Dumbledore would allow him to borrow that tricky Put-Outer, he wouldn’t have to suffer as he struggled to remove his coat and tie with an excruciating pain on his chest; that was because in his battle with the Kelpie and his avoidance of hurting it, Theseus was struck around the middle that nearly robbed him out of his breath. The itching and pain he felt now was an indication that a wound of some sort had manifested and he had to heal it before flying to his younger brother’s meeting, which in reality Newt had no chance of winning without his presence.

Just then, it felt like something thin and cold suddenly was clawing at the back of his neck that Theseus became aware that someone else was inside his house.Stopping halfway of unbuttoning his shirt, Theseus raised his wand and turned behind him with clenched jaw—to find himself facing two luminous blue eyes in the dark. Those menacing blue eyes in the middle of the raging blue fire! Leta’s killer!

Theseus had the mind to attack as he realized who it was but he moved too slow as his injury had limited him, and his wand had flown out of his hands before he could—

“No.” Grindelwald said deeply as he took possession of the older Scamander’s wand. “We don’t want to raise false alarms.”

“I’m not afraid to die.” Theseus retorted to his uninvited visitor, clutching his hands into ball of fists at having been disarmed quickly.

“Of course.” Grindelwald said quietly and there was something in his cold presence that told Theseus the Dark Wizard already thought himself the victor, “No one would dare believe you are, Mr. Scamander. Not with your title and fame, no. You are very, very brave… but you chose them, I could not be more disappointed.”

“I’d choose them anytime.”

Standing up defenseless, Theseus Scamander stood his ground, waiting for the Dark Wizard to finish him—he knew at time like this would come. But he didn’t expect Grindelwald to be the one to personally end his life. In a flash, Newt’s angry face came in mind and this made Theseus regret ever having that argument when he was about to die. What would happen to Newt now?

“My my,” there was a plain lack of emotion, “You were hurt. It was your brother, I presume?”

Theseus didn’t reply, still gazing hard at the Most Wanted of their time. But as seconds rolled and the older Scamander still found himself breathing, he couldn’t help but fear the worst part than dying—

“What do you want?” he swallowed hard, already knowing what was to come next and bracing himself for it.

“A proposition.”

Theseus smiled. “No.”

Grindelwald’s eyes flashed dangerously—and before Theseus realized what was going on—he was on the floor, twisting in pain as his whole body erupted in cold fire—like he was being ripped to thousands of pieces and was still whole—and he screamed with his voice in his head—and everything that was there was just unexplainable pain that was ripping his head open—

When for a moment, he felt himself able to breath, he felt another coldness had wrapped his mind, telling him to fall asleep for the pain has ended. Telling him there was no need to worry and only comply—

Theseus gritted his teeth and broke away from the Imperius curse almost too quickly and found himself breathing very hard with his face on the floor. His whole-body sweating and the pain on his chest adding to his movements, Theseus tried hard to focus and attempted to close his fists.

He saw Grindelwald’s feet on his left, he was standing above him.

“So, you chose to suffer? Admirable.” The wizard was saying softly, “But there is no award to those who resist. Why do you fight, Scamander? Is it because I killed her?”

Theseus breathed hard, and then felt his whole body get consumed by the pain of fire again— it was under his skin, on his very chest—to his limbs—everything was on fire and electrifying all at once that Theseus’ only wanted it to stop— but when the cruciatus was lifted, it was followed shortly by another controlling curse—to which he was so adamant with Leta’s death hanging on his mind.

Grindelwald broke the occlumency wall of the Auror and in no time was able to see pass the man’s mind. This made him smile briefly, before stepping forward and kicking the Auror to lie on his back.

Theseus could barely close his fists now, his chest rising and falling, the mark on his chest that reached on to his neck forgotten. And Grindelwald shook his head.

“Is this because of love?” the Dark Wizard inclined his head on the left. “Love for Leta Lestrange?”

Theseus opened his eyes and threw a contemptuous look at Grindelwald’s direction. “Whatever you’re after…” he breathed strong, “NO!”

Grindelwald doesn’t look amuse now. “But she never truly loved you. You know she loved your brother. You know it, I see that. So why resist?”

Theseus’s lips trembled in anger, but after a moment, he reached a hand a grabbed Grindelwald by the leg. Rage was on Theseus’ eyes—and his message was only too clear for Grindelwald to see.

“Don’t ever…” the older Scamander hissed forcefully, “Don’t ever read my mind… of her…” his clutch on the Dark Wizard not weakening, Theseus tried as he might to get on his feet, but only managed to get on his knees. Tiredly, he let go and sat there with trembling hands on his legs, Theseus Scamander then managed to raise his chin, his fierce eyes meeting that of Grindelwald who was silently watching him.

“She never loved you.” Grindelwald repeated indifferently, pointing his wand on Theseus’ forehead.

To which, for the last time Theseus focused his eyes and smiled.

“I know…” he sighed, his eyes watering all of a sudden, “but that’s not’ actually true… I needed someone that loved my brother as much as I do.”

Grindelwald’s eyes narrowed. He just knew it was going to take a while.

Inside the Ministry’s long-winded corridor, inside one of the staggering tall, dark-tiled rooms, Newt Scamander sat in the presence of the Prime Minister, three Aurors including Yaxley, Travers from the Magical Law Enforcement and two others more from his department.

Theseus’ chair remained vacant. Newt looked down his hand till Travers’ loud voice announced the beginning of the meeting. Looking up, Newt blinked at the panel and then unconsciously back at the empty chair of his older brother. When no sign of Theseus came, Newt sat straight and sighed quietly.

It was going to be a long day. 

-TBC-

Chapter Text

*He's an Auror, and a Hugger*

by: Whitegloves

I wish tissues would fall from the sky ;o

Enjoy! :D

Chapter 3: The Curse

Red lips pursed, her short blonde hair tucked behind her right ear with her long dark lashes emphasizing her beautiful, yet sad green eyes, Queenie Goldstein stood by an ajar doorway in a black dress with a golden brooch on her chest, spying on her appointed mark who hadn't come out from inside his dark room. It was no simple task, watching over him—the Obscurus she's heard so much about. Credence had been brooding inside for many days, left in isolation by the mountains in Nurmengard castle to master his powers while guided by the Dark Wizard Grindelwald.

Grindelwald, who Queenie initially thought the enemy but now she considers her only ally in quest to free those shackled by the laws created by the wizarding world, the only wizard with the power to change the course of history and to free magical witches like her who only wanted nothing but to be free to love the non-magics.

It was a much better fight than do nothing, she convinced herself repeatedly as she closed her slender fingers and continued watching the back of Credence who had not moved a muscle from where he sat inside his bedroom. But looking after an Obscurus whose darkness was unimaginable was no easy fit even to a skilled Legilimens. Even without directly interacting with him, Queenie had much connection to the boy as her ability allowed her to feel his emotions ten times with the proximity they share in the castle. The force emanating from him had such an influence that all she could feel was his innate hatred, his anger that deepens daily. She didn't even have to see in his mind to know that he was being tortured by his past memories, and that in return, his memories were creating the unbalanced darkness felt within the vicinity. Queenie could barely stand still without her whole body shaking at the intensity of the boy's emotion.

He was a very sad, angry kid.

So, the castle was cold. Queenie even colder. And whenever Grindelwald was around everything around her just dies… withers away. Much the same when she crossed that blue fire that nearly engulfed her, there was no real heat, but chill through her without Jacob, what else does she expect? Remembering him brought her an unexpected heartache. He must be very worried. Worried sick. Yet he does not have the power to oppose the real enemies. Only Grindelwald can…

A sudden crash on the upper floors made Queenie jump back a little and stare at the stone stairs in alarm. Glancing back at Credence and seeing how immovable he was, the blonde witch left her station and ascended on the stairs quietly. She knew the Dark Wizard had come back, judging by the way how her heart had frozen—for Grindelwald's presence was on a whole different level that could not be contained easily— she ran up a few more steps before she reached the hall room where a grand fireside surrounded by empty portraits and thick, layered drapes hung by the window. In the middle of it all, Grindelwald sat by the largest comfortable chair with one hand at its back and legs crossed. There was an obvious displeasure on his features that made Queenie cautiously step forward. He was an expert Occlumency so there was nothing to read there, but it was easier to figure out people when they were riled. Something didn't work out again?

"You don't look happy." She began, but no matter how light she wanted to say it, her whole body continued to freeze merely in his company. Grindelwald's lips thinned, and then waved his adept left hand towards the floor—and that was when Queenie realized that the Dark Wizard did not come alone. He had brought a body with him. Gasping, the witch put both hands on her lips, her green eyes filling with shock to see a man lying on the red carpeted floor with his ripped clothes—his whole body bathed in blood. He was unmoving with his face on the floor.

"Is he dead?" she asked timidly. This was the first time he brought someone back.

Grindelwald gave the body much scrutiny under his blue and grey eyes and didn't say anything. Queenie tried but couldn't figure out what was on his mind. But it was nothing new to her, Grindelwald was not one to elaborate. He just acts. Turning back at the body, Queenie suddenly felt an unexplainable sadness. But it was a different kind sadness than what was previously emanating from within the castle. Then she realized it was coming from the unknown body. It was still alive.

"You wouldn't have brought him here breathing if you don't need him…" she whispered tonelessly.

"Yes. I need him." Grindelwald replied shortly.

"Who is he?"

"Scamander."

Queenie's heart sank as the face of a friend so kind and friendly flashed before her mind— and for the first time it felt like a bucket of water was thrown on her face and before she knew it, she was dashing towards the body and was cradling it on her leg—Oh, Newt—no! She turned the body—

It was to her relief to find herself looking not at Newt but to someone who looked so much like him. Hair, cheekbones, nose—Queenie couldn't believe the similarities. Yes—he is familiar— she had seen this man before standing with Newt in that front page with the announcement of his wedding. The one Newt said was about to marry his first love. Queenie blinked and watched as the man breathed unevenly with visible wounds and damage on his body which was enough to make her hold him gently. He was obviously tortured many times. His whole body was very warm.

"Theseus Scamander," Grindelwald provided looking very grim, "Head Auror of the British Ministry of Magic. You've heard of him?"

"I…" Queenie hesitated a little, looking back at the man. "Yes, um, the War Hero of the first war… he's very popular even in MACUSA. Very valiant., they say that a lot about him…"

"So now you realize my dilemma."

"He does not want to cooperate?"

"His label as a hero has gone further on his head. Not realizing he's only their puppet."

Queenie felt the same as she turned at Theseus Scamander. "What do you want to do with him?"

"I want to make him see where his loyalty should lie. But he's been very… difficult. I could replace him easily, but Dumbledore will see through it. He's one of Dumbledore's favorites and in a very good position. It needs to be him." Grindelwald said no further.

The witch gave the Dark Wizard a quizzical look. She knew it was part of his grand plan to eliminate obstacles, but especially that professor in that British School. In doing so, Grindelwald would stop at nothing and eradicate without prejudice if necessary. And Queenie has realized it may involve people that she knows—her sister one of them. What more with a War Hero? Why can't they see what Grindelwald was trying to change? These people who considered themselves the highest order just because they are in position. This man—a Head Auror? Looking back, she does recognize him not just from the newspaper but from memory. He was there at the Amphitheatre ready to fight a battle to death with no certainty of survival. No wonder Grindelwald was having trouble. Queenie instinctively reached for the man's messy brown hair all over his sweaty face and wipe it aside

So handsome, but in so much pain.

Grindelwald was lost in his own thoughts so Queenie checked on to Theseus' neck to his chest as she saw a long gash of wound that didn't seem to be from any wand attack. The wound was already raw and needs dressing. Most of his wounds were from torture. The stains of blood had already dried, but his wounds within the ripped clothing was too fresh. Her heart melted. She didn't know what to do next. She did want to cure him for this man was Newt's brother. She had seen him resurfacing from Newt's memory when she was privy to look but she didn't push further for Newt never liked it. She did glimpse him often when Newt was preoccupied—but not preoccupied enough to keep his mind quiet about his older brother, like he was a constant presence in Newt's life. But unlike with that Leta, there was no harbored anguish for this Theseus even when Newt admitted that the two were getting married months back. On the contrary, Newt was quite fond of him despite whatever the Magizoologist commented on the sideline.

No… Newt doesn't just like this person. Oh my god.

Does Newt know…?

Queenie then gasped when out of nowhere, Theseus Scamander's eyes flickered open, revealing a pair of blue ones the same with Newt's. His whole body reacted violently as he became fully aware of the inflicted pain that ailed his body, making him bend with fists closing tight. Breathing rapidly, he gulped his cry with great force—then a groan came out from him. Queenie, the speechless hostess, raised her hand to his chest to calm him down. His eyes were glinting, not in panic, but in alertness, like he was expecting something to attack. He wasn't wrong there. But then as if becoming aware of her presence, Theseus' strong left hand suddenly took hold of her arm, leaving smudges of blood on her fair skin.

"W-who…?" he breathed, his blue eyes striking Queenie that she could only stare at him. And there she confirmed what he didn't need to say—his strong will was admirable—it was brimming from his very personality. Queenie could not question why they labelled him the war hero, but it wasn't this that had her attention. It was what was beyond his instincts. She could see past him—his wall was down—he was in pain and too weak to defend his mind—and everything in his heart was pouring right into the witch— and Leta's name—

This man… Queenie's lips trembled with her heart wrenching in its place. This man… has endured a lot.

"You shouldn't move…" she advised, putting an assuring hand on his shoulder.

Theseus Scamander hissed, but his strength failed him as his labored breaths suggested, and Queenie could only put a hand on his back. Then the Head Auror's eyes fell on Grindelwald who was surveying him from the couch with a slight impatience. Theseus was beside himself and with Queenie almost stopping him from standing, he spat—

"I will not bow down to you!"

Queenie glanced back at Grindelwald with a sudden concern for the Head Auror while the Dark Wizard merely paused. Shaking his head, he made a clicking sound with his tongue.

"Die if you want."

Without a word, the Dark Wizard pointed his wand at the Auror who was blasted away from the witch's hands and slammed on the wall with such a force that knocked him unconscious. He fell like a log on the floor, unmoving.

"Stop it, you're gonna kill him!" Queenie cried in protest as she ran towards Theseus and protectively put a hand around his unconscious form. Truly disturbed, she was almost ready to shield him from any further attacks, only to find Grindelwald not looking at them anymore.

"Still an open option." The Dark Wizard muttered with jaw clenching and standing up, "He's thrown the Imperius curse again and again. Even Cruciatus must be ashamed. What's keeping him alive?"

You killed her. Queenie's lips trembled as this thought crossed her mind and she had to look down at Theseus. She saw it in his mind—the memory—his agony upon losing her—their last goodbye—her words of confession not truly for him even at her last moments. Newt. So, she did love Newt. But she's always been a taker… and even on her death she also took this man's heart. Good thing Newt has Tina now but this Theseus… whatever was holding this broken man together must be something so powerful.

Looking back at Grindelwald, it was to the witch's surprise to find him already striding towards the stairs.

"Where's Credence?" he did not wait for an answer as he gave her a command while walking away, "Heal him before he breathes his last. I don't make it a habit of healing anyone but he's invaluable before his death. A useful death. If Imperius Curse does not work… I have other means to persuade him."

Queenie watched him go, and then helplessly look at Theseus beaten form. If Newt's brother could end up like this because of being an Auror, what more of her sister…?

Dearest Newt,

Still no news from Queenie except she's still around Europe. Already preparing to leave Paris.

Will drop by soon in London. I know you can't travel yet.

Best regards, Tina.

Newt could just study her hand writing for hours. He did with the rest of her letters, but for now he refrained from it seeing as Pickett was already trying to tear the post card from his hands. He was in the basement, having just finished his daily routine of feeding the Hodags—fiercely large frogs the size of a dog— and Knarls— no different than hedgehogs but usable for quills and potions— and was on his way to the third basement when he felt the Bowtruckle tugging on the post card that Newt safely secured inside his pockets. Smiling at his little buddy, Newt had pulled the postcard gently away from it and was rereading the content with a satisfied expression on his good-natured face.

At least one good news for a change.

"I know you have issues with her now," Newt told Pickett when he pushed the postcard on his pocket again, "but I keep telling you I'm not giving her all my attention."

Pickett shook his tiny head, disbelieving him. Newt gave him a knowing look.

"Just because you haven't met your equal…"

"Newt?" Jacob's voice called from above out of nowhere that got the Magizoologist looking up. Jacob, his NoMaj buddy from across the continent and who has legally crossed Britain with proper papers rather than magicking himself in and out of the country, could be heard thrashing down the stairs with heavy boots. Newt understands why Jacob would want to have legal papers to stay in London. Newt was not one to give him any ill-advice knowing that he was stuck in his own country after several major offenses that nearly landed him in Azkaban. Jacob, who was a typical muggle but with heart of gold was Newt's constant companion these days as they worked together to try and locate the love of his life and Tina's sister, Queenie Goldstein. Newt had no problem with the nomaj staying with him, he liked Jacob's presence. A funny little man he was who was not afraid to go head on with magical beings especially with the tension brewing in the magical world. He only wanted to find Queenie is all.

"Here." Newt called, waiting by the table with Pickett still trying to nick his way to his pockets. Newt grabbed it and placed him on his shoulder and waited for his American friend to find him. Jacob appeared next, wearing his usual attire but with bundle of letters on his hands that the Magizoologist recognized.

"Newt," Jacob greeted looking pretty exhausted but cheery at the same time.

"Any news?" Newt's eyes remained on the letters.

"Uh, no, there are no strange activities on my people's news or television like you told me to look for." Jacob wiped his sweaty forehead, "Anyways, how about you?"

"Tina's visiting." Newt could not help the twitch of smile on his lips while Jacob slowly grins at him. But his smile slowly faded away into a question that he didn't need to ask. Newt understood and shook his head quietly. Jacob sighed.

"Oh, anyways, I found your mails piling up on the table. You're not the type to forget paying your bills, are you?" Jacob handed him the letters which Newt only stared at, making the nomaj blink. "Wait— are you?"

Newt pursed his lips and shook his head. "They're not for bills. I don't use electricity."

"Oh, right." A twinkle appeared on Jacob's eyes, "So what's up with the letters?"

"Their summons." Newt sighed as he turned and walked around the enclosure with Jacob keeping up the rear. "Remember I told you about the meeting with the Prime Minister yesterday?"

"Yeah, the one you walked out of because they want inspections and stuff."

"It's not an inspection." Newt said bitterly, coming out of the walls of his house—and finding himself near a waterfall under a blue sky, and standing at a large rock at its edge overlooking a clear pond. Whistling loud, a Hippocampus' head emerged from the water which the Magizoologist patted—the Hippocampus—a half horse, half fish—gave him a nudge on the palm to show its gratitude, before eating the content of the bucket and then sinking magnificently on the clear pool. Newt watched it go with satisfaction. Wasn't it a long time ago when this fellow was nearly hunted down by tribesmen? It was helpless then, only thrashing in a pool while surrounded by spears. A Hippocampus was no use for any war. Leave them alone, please.

Newt paused, knowing he was getting distracted, and then straightened, aware that Jacob was waiting just behind him.

"What do you mean not an inspection?" Jacob was as oblivious as ever, but he's a nomaj.

"It's a selection. A checklist." Newt rounded to his friend with a fiery look on his usually peaceful eyes, "Of the most dangerous magical beasts they can find. I told you they want to use them for the war."

"Yeah, you mean like dragons, you told me." Jacob's ability to sympathize always made Newt glad he was a friend of his, "Wait—a checklist? You mean they know everything you have here?"

"Not everything." Newt stared at Jacob, "But the point is—that they can find much more than a dragon here. My brother already warned me it's going to happen. So, I've been preparing."

"You've been preparing?" Jacob followed Newt once the wizard had started walking around again, passing cages, flying large bees, and walking horns with six feet before they found themselves inside another landscape a top a mountain of stones where the Magizoologist stood yet again at the protruding stone edge near a cliff. Dusk was upon them and Jacob felt the chill in the air, but the concerned look on his face did not disappear as he watched Newt. "What do you mean?"

"I've been removing the access of different shelters on my suitcase, just in case it gets confiscated." Newt's voice shook a little and Jacob straightened. He knew very much how the magical creatures meant to Newt.

"You think they will take it forcefully?"

"They plan to," Newt didn't meet his eyes as he looked behind him, before looking back at the horizon with clutched fists. "I know they've been meaning to, just to spite me this time."

"Spite you? Why would they spite you?" there was an outrageous look on Jacob's face. "You're the best man I know!"

Newt smiled. "They don't see me the way you do."

"What the hell's that mean? And what did your brother say? You said he's also at the top—"

At that, Newt stopped and compressed his lips. "What didn't he say… he didn't attend. He sent word that he got preoccupied with something much important. Probably his job to the people. We went on without him."

"But did you talk to him about it?"

"I don't need to talk to him." Newt decided and Jacob watched as his friend turned back at the mountain edge—imitating the Magizoologist, Jacob also looked down exactly as a blast of wind from below nearly pushed him backwards while Newt seemed to have no problem balancing whatsoever. It took Jacob a moment to find his footing and when he did, he looked at Newt to find that there was a sad, pensive look on his usually easy-going face.

"You said they have a checklist—who gave them that?"

"I did." Newt admitted with a lost look in his eyes, "They're creatures that were retrieved and registered with the other Magizoologist in the Beast Department. We had to make a report. Some of them were dangerous creatures… those with powers that can be utilized. The Ministry may not aim for all my magical beast they don't know I possess, but they will surely extract those others…like him."

With a meaningful look on his expression, Newt pointed below the cliff where Jacob nearly fell. It was a deep abyss, nothing to be seen except darkness, yet in the Magizoologist's eyes, something surely was occupying the said space.

"What's down there?" the nomaj asked with a hint of apprehension.

"A Balaur." Newt was looking down as if seeing something below, "A dragon."

Jacob's eyes rounded and be stepped slowly backwards. "It's not like you haven't shown me a dragon before… but…"

"It's a Romanian dragon with twelve serpent heads." Newt explained quietly as he turned at the nomaj quietly, "It can destroy a city with one sweep of its horned tail. In the past, it has brought down two kingdoms."

"Wha—why are you keeping something as dangerous as that?!" Jacob retreated and was almost ready to desert the Magizoologist who was smiling at his escape.

"Because," Newt turned sideward again, eyes at the darkness, "It's already blind. It's been 500 years since its last recorded havoc and we found it weak and frail. Must be the doing of hunters. It was a captive in Gringotts before I made a public appeal for its release. It wasn't easy and the goblins weren't that happy till they replaced it with a younger one. I wish I could go and get that dragon too, it's cruel to leave it chained in the darkness."

"Wait—Gringotts? What the hells that?"

"It's a wizarding bank—anyway—this dragon has been tortured since its capture. I have only been able to nourish it to health—"

"You nourished it to health—!? Newt, really!"

"But it's still blind." Newt insisted, eyes flashing at Jacob, "If they plan to utilize dragons and this one—with its history—they would not think twice of throwing him in the battlefield. He's already helpless as it is."

"Then don't give him. Surely they'll make discrimination with it being blind and all?"

At that, Newt's face hardened and a strong emotion Jacob barely saw on his friend's face appeared, "You don't know them. They're always after this… end justifying the means. They won't care."

"But you said your brother will help you—"

"Theseus is on their side." The Magizoologist's squared his jaw. "That's why he warned me. He knew he could do nothing about it because he's also behind it." Just like last time with Dumbledore… 'They're watching you' said Theseus. Why didn't he just say 'We?'. Newt frowned. "I can't rely on my brother anymore."

"Are you sure?" silence fell between the friends, before Jacob tried again, "Well, how can I help you?"

The Magizoologist found himself staring at his nomaj friend again, feeling quite satisfied, "You already have your hands full. I can't—"

"Oh, don't give me that—if you need help, just ask, alright?"

Before Newt could answer, however, they heard a loud rapping on the door from above. Both looking up, the Magizoologist and the nomaj quickly reappeared inside the menagerie with Newt quickly ascending on the stairs. Turning to Jacob who was about to follow him, Newt pointed a finger at him—

"Don't follow! Don't show yourself, it could be the Ministry, they don't know you—you're just a muggle!"

Jacob made gestures but Newt was already out of sight.

Coming up to the sitting room, Newt Scamander hastily locked the door after accio-ing the nifflers back in the basement and securing that no magical creatures was on sight. He wondered if it was his brother. If Theseus had come around to scold him or even try to talk him out of hiding, the Magizoologist was prepared to close the door on his face; his disappointment in Theseus' apparent chosen side was still giving him mixed feelings.

Expecting Theseus, Newt was once again surprised to find himself facing strangers as he opened the door.

For there he met three members of the Magical Law Enforcement staring down at him grimly.

Theseus gave a soft moan, before opening his eyes into the light. His world became clearer in less than seconds as he found himself staring at a tall ceiling of what appeared to be a castle. He found himself lying on the couch with dried clothes and movable body. Blinking and grasping his situation quick, the man was able to sit right up with his chest heaving— remembering everything that had happened to him— the attack, the torture, the dark wizard—everything became clearer as he shook his head. Looking around, he expected Grindelwald to be around, only to find himself staring at a pair of green eyes which has been watching him from a far. Theseus instinctively tried to grab his wand—only to realize it was not in his possession—

Grindelwald—!

"Who are you?" he barked at the lady with blonde hair who jumped at being addressed so crudely. Theseus was surprised at his own outburst and then more kindly he added, "I'm sorry…I don't know… who are you?"

The blonde lady, who apparently was a witch, standing by the hearth of the room was clutching her fingers uncertainly.

"Queenie," she said aloud, "Queenie Goldstein…"

"Goldstein…" something stirred in Theseus' memory as he stood up. "The sister of Porpentina Goldstein? Of MACUSA?"

Queenie nodded slowly, wondering what news this Auror has heard about her. Obviously, the answer came easily of how Newt had explained the situation to him before. But then, everything disappeared in the air and Queenie realized that Theseus has managed to block all his thoughts against someone he knew was an enemy.

But I healed him! The back of Queenie's mind protested. So still not moving from her spot, she tried to sound assertive, she raised her eyebrows at the Auror. "Do you know where you are?"

"I know who took me." Theseus looked around again, the angry flicker on his eyes returning, "Where is he?"

"It's not like you can escape him. You have no wand." Queenie pointed out, pointing her own wand at him to which Theseus only glanced at without fear. Queenie hesitated for the pressure she was receiving was enough to make her step back, but being with her wand, she was able to keep up her act against Theseus Scamander's intimidating aura. Apparently, even without a wand, this wizard…

Theseus gave her a calculating look. "So, you really chose his side? Newt was convinced you don't know what you're doing."

"All of them say that." Queenie said flatly, the edge in her tone heard, "They all think I don't know how to stand my ground because I'm all love and… emotions. Not thinking clearly… they don't understand what I'm fighting for."

"I think they understand what you're fighting for that's why they want to find you." Theseus told her as he looked behind him and then around, Queenie following his movements. "Otherwise, they would've given up on you a long time ago. But where am I exactly?" He looked at her again.

"Nurmengard castle."

"Is Credence here?"

"Yes."

"Are you allowed to tell your enemies these?"

Queenie saw the sparkle in his eyes— how dare he?! "But you—!"

Theseus ignored her, "You obviously don't know how to be a villain. Never mind, we're getting out of here." And he made for her—

Queenie quickly raised her wand till its tip was pointing on Theseus' chest. The two stared at each other both quizzically, with the witch clearly taken aback at the man's casualness. She tried to read his mind again but nothing—he was a skilled Occlumency. Frustrated, Queenie shook her head.

"I'm not going anywhere—and certainly you are not too! I'm guarding you!"

A light expression appeared on the auror's face and if Queenie hadn't been too apprehensive, she could have sworn he looked almost as amused as Newt when he found something interesting. So, he wasn't taking her seriously? She bared her fang and threatened him with her wand. "I'm warning you—if you make another move—I swear!"

Without losing eye contact, Theseus' blue eyes hardened. "You healed me, didn't you?"

Queenie raised an eyebrow. "So, what if I did? Grindelwald said you are useful."

"Not for his cause, no. I'd rather die."

"You nearly did if he hadn't told me to heal you. The scar on your chest is impossible to remove by the way. But Grindelwald is serious. I think he's already made up his mind of what to do with you." Queenie looked at the threshold going down the stone staircases. Yes, she was sure of it.

Theseus gave her a long look, but never was there a look of panic on his face. In fact, the wizard looked as if he was weighing his options, before Queenie tried reading his mind again. But again, she was blocked easily. It made her frown.

"You're not as easy to be read as your brother." She complained, much sounding like her old self. Theseus raised his eyes and there was a different flicker on them as he heard his younger brother being mentioned.

"Well, there's more to me than that of Newt. And there's definitely more to him than I am as well."

"Oh, yes, he's much friendlier and likeable."

Theseus suddenly beamed proudly it caught the Legilimens expert unprepared. "I'm glad he's making good impressions now. Thank you."

Queenie's mouth dropped open—where does this man get his light smile when he was still hurting? Why was this man still whole when his fiancé's death broke him into pieces? And why was this man not filled with anger—for anger was a strong drive to motivate people—like her—why wasn't he like her?

Before she realized what was going on, the older Scamander had already taken her arm and was dragging her across the room without even bothering to disarm her. Obviously, he was planning to escape—but why was he taking her when he was her prisoner? She immediately pulled away from him, catching him in surprise.

"I said I'm not going anywhere! I am not the prisoner here!"—her sudden outburst sparked the end of her wand, making Theseus look back at the blonde witch warily. But she had enough—of his smile, of his kindness, of his indifference to his real feelings when he was the one suffering between the two of them— she pointed her wand at him again, her eyes flashing. "What kind of person are you? Why are you not suffering like me! You lost her didn't you!? You also lost the love of your life! That woman who didn't even love you!"

For the first time that day, Queenie saw Theseus' face went pale and a streak of something painful crossed his handsome face. But there was still nothing to be read from his mind—yet as Queenie always said—people are easiest to read when they are hurting.

There was a moment where the older Scamander stood still, letting silence consume him. His eyebrows creased, his nose twitched and his throat was constricted, but he kept himself well. Queenie who had been watching him was suddenly taken aback yet again when he looked her right in the eye with clear meaning behind his blue eyes—like looking in crystal clear water so pure that the message could not be mistaken.

"I loved her, yes… and I lost her. So, I don't want to lose anyone else. There are still people I needed to protect."

Queenie could not speak, there was nothing to say—especially when Theseus gladly opened his mind to show her—and what she saw overwhelmed her— and she suddenly understood that this was Newt Scamander's brother—Newt who was one of the kindest people she knew. Theseus was the kind of environment Newt grew up to be with—the kind of environment that made him the compassionate man that he is. Because his family— his older sibling was one to begin with.

The American witch could only stare blankly with her eyes filling with unshed tears as she covered her mouth.

Theseus closed his mind again, his eyes not leaving Goldstein's. "Newt told me about you… he was very sad that you felt so alone you had to come with Grindelwald. And he was sad for your sister too. But you know, Queenie, I lost Leta… and I will never forget that. I will live with that. But you haven't lost yours. So, what are you doing here?"

Queenie was crying—she didn't know how it started but the moment Jacob's memory flashed in her mind, their time together—her whole body started to shake. And then her sister, Tina—how she must be so worried about her— Queenie lost it. Tears began to spill heavily. And then out of nowhere, Theseus suddenly pulled her into an embrace with his warmth wrapping protectively around her, his sturdy chest pressing against her face. She cried on him till she felt her lips dry and her face numb. He was very warm. This was the first time she ever felt warm in Nurmengard castle. Warm and protected. Not alone.

How very much like Newt. He has the same scent as Newt.

When minutes passed and Queenie was able to take hold of herself, she smiled up at Theseus who was watching her with understanding in his eyes. She has seen that look before. Oh yes, Theseus was just like Tina too—these older siblings.

"I'm fine now, thank you."

Finally getting out of his clutches, Theseus nodded and then looked around as if nothing happened. "Then we might as well deal with this while we can." He walked around, trying to see a way to escape, otherwise—as what Queenie could read from his movements—he was preparing for a battle.

"Are there any spare wands around?" Theseus turned to Queenie exactly as she shot her with a stunning spell that hit him in the middle of his body—before crumpling on the floor one last time. The skilled Legilimens user breathed hard, and then quickly ran towards Theseus. She couldn't possibly let him fight and die—

It was then that Grindelwald's presence returned that Queenie jumped up to her feet to see him come in. He was not alone. Credence was beside him and surrounding the boy was a dark aura so heavily set. Beside him, Grindelwald's eyes were transfixed on Theseus' unconscious body. Queenie backed away looking scared.

"There he is my boy, the wizard who needs a little fixing." The Dark Wizard whispered on Credence as they slowly closed in on the older Scamander till they were standing above him. Credence's eyes were on Theseus too. "It's obvious he's seen too much glory and sunshine to despair easily. He is so unlike you. He has not a twinge of hardship his whole life. The injustice of it all, let's make him suffer."

Queenie held her breath. Grindelwald's eyes glinted malevolently. "Remove everything that remains good. Leave only darkness."

And like a spell, Credence's whole body erupted with thick black smoke that swirled towards Theseus. Queenie gasped as she backed away, eyes on Theseus' floating form in the blackness of air—and then her eyes widened when she saw more black smokes envelope his body. Grindelwald suddenly raised his wand and chanted—making Theseus open his eyes and scream at the top of his lungs—in pain and in agony as the smoke seeped to his skin—entering his flesh till writings began to form and engrave on his body— it was a very deadly curse.

Queenie covered her ears and was left kneeling on the floor crying, with all the black smokes swirling and the dark magic being casted by none other than the Dark Wizard himself.

Back in the Ministry, Newt Scamander looked up in discomfort as he felt something twinge in his chest. Frowning, he looked around him and found nothing. What was that feeling all of a sudden? Like he could not shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen?

But then again—something bad did happen.

Newt sighed deeply and looked across the room—onto the bars that separated him from freedom of the outside world. There in the Ministry of Magic he was kept at one of the cellars with nothing except his attire, his blue coat and Pickett whom he was restraining not to pick the lock.

Because the last time he heard, someone ordered that Theseus Scamander be called in immediately. Apparently, Theseus hasn't been in the Ministry today. The Magizoologist sighed and stayed silent, willingly letting himself wait for the older brother whom he always believed would be coming for him. The Bowtruckle looked up at him as it cocked it's head on one side wondering why it wasn't allowed to do its job.

Just wait a while Pick, Theseus is coming.

-TBC-

Chapter Text

*He's an Auror, and a Hugger*

by: Whitegloves

Ahhh... my heart for Newt...

Thank you for the wonderful support! Enjoy! :D

Chapter 4: The Bane

Queenie stood idly by the corridor with hands wrapped about her arms with the chill still running down her spine. She had left the upper floor where the cursed was being performed on Theseus Scamander and had no intention of going back until the panic in her heart had subsided. The curse was deadly, she could just tell from the incantation and the power it surged from the earth. It was made lethal with Credence' own element and so right now Queenie was afraid of even seeing Theseus.

Because she knew it would not be him. She could sense it from the wave of his thoughts, could sense the dividing difference of who was once a warm and kind person, now replaced by an unfeeling monster the dark magic had created. She could sense him from such a distance— all his pain was gone; all his memories were clouded with darkness. His thoughts, his own feelings… like a body stranger to its own soul. If it had a soul.

Stifling a cry, the Legilimens user stopped and leaned her shoulder on the wall. Shutting her eyes, she took in the scattered pain and emotion left behind by the victim that had etched itself on her soul. Touching her golden brooch, Queenie whispered Jacob's name, awfully glad that he was out of harm's way. She had heard from Theseus that he was looking for her, but if this was how Grindelwald's enemies turns out—she just wished Jacob would stay away with her sister.

And of Newt. How was Newt going to find out this was not his brother? Surely, he will easily recognize the difference? Surely, he will see through it—that this was not the man he confided to, and certainly not the man he loved?

I'm so sorry, Newt… I promise you I will help…

Queenie then snapped in attention when she heard someone climb down the stone stairs. Knowing exactly who it was before she turned, the American witch saw Geller Grindelwald emerged from the shadow of the stairs with the same impassive look on his face. There was no trace on his face that he had just finished a very complicated dark magic, there was only ever calm on his exterior. And Queenie could not read anything from him either so she tried to look and sound unaffected, but she couldn't. Her lips trembled.

Grindelwald observed this and nodded.

"Such an extreme raw emotion of sorrow and grief, wasn't' it?"

Queenie strained to look him in the eye. "What happened to him?"

"Why the concern?" Grindelwald eyed her.

"I… Did you kill him?" because that was how it looked like to her—like the spell had ripped out Theseus' soul, only leaving a vessel that got sullied by Credence' power.

"I could not." Grindelwald admitted, sounding quite unsatisfied at his own inability to kill, "Had I remove the soul, the body would crumble at the extent of Credence' power. So, I simply corrupted what was once pure. His memory needs to be in tack to avoid suspicion. He may even be the same on the surface, but lo his darkness will ultimately rise."

Queenie knew exactly what it meant and this was making her teary eyed again. "How is he?"

"Why don't you see for yourself?"

Queenie hesitated, and then shook her head. "I can't… I'll get caught in Credence's power. It's dangerous for me."

"Credence has taken charge of Mr. Scamander," the Dark Wizard said quietly, "He's making the finishing touch. It wouldn't hurt to see what he's up to now."

"I can't…"

"No? Then come, we will meet with Grimmson outside. The British auror at my service. He will be escorting Mr. Scamander back in London. I prefer if Credence does not see his face."

"You will send Theseus in London? Already?" Queenie followed the Dark Wizard along the corridor sounding concerned. "But you know— Theseus' brother is there… he… he's bound to notice something's different with his older brother."

"Ah, yes, my captor Newt Scamander." Grindelwald was the same old confident Dark Wizard that feared no one, "The man able to see past through me, yes he is a concern. Fear not, we will get rid of him. Our Theseus will make sure his younger brother will be out of the way."

"You don't mean—" Queenie was obviously upset.

Grindelwald smiled. "Dumbledore will notice if that Scamander disappears. No, we let him walk away on his own. And Theseus will be the one to make him so."

Newton Scamander blinked on the stone floor spiritlessly with both hands clutched as he sat on a bench in a dark corner near the doorway. He's done it, he thought aimlessly. He's really done it this time. He was expelled in Hogwarts.

"Better not stick your hands under the chair, it has plenty of dungbombs underneath." Came Professor Dumbledore's light voice as he stood before Newt as he came around the door with hands on his pockets. The two met each other's eyes and Newt recognized the sympathy of one of the greatest professors he's ever had. Dumbledore looked calm now, in contrast to the look he had a while ago when he was arguing actively with the committee that ordered Newt's expulsion.

"Will Professor Black not change his mind?" Newt asked, talking to Dumbledore's right sleeve.

Professor Dumbledore was silent for a moment seemingly considering what to say next but his tone was obviously full of resentment, "The Headmaster… feels… endangering life of another… especially in a school, takes the priority. And anyone who goes against that, goes against the school's vision of student's welfare while they are here."

Newt knew Professor Dumbledore was only making Professor Phineas Black's comment nicer.

"Your brother is on his way. He's already on the school grounds." Dumbledore added.

Newt raised his head a little at receiving this piece of information. Unable to hold the gaze, the younger Scamander looked down the floor again and chewed his lower lip, his hold on his hands tightening.

Great, now his older brother whose hands were full in his Ministry duties are now flying all the way here just to meet him.

What did Theseus hear? Obviously, the untruth, but in the end, it was the result that mattered: he was expelled, and because of a magical creature nonetheless which Theseus had never been impressed with. Then there were rumors from the Slytherin table that morning that made Newt's heart sink even lower, of how his older brother was working for the ministry and how his stupid younger brother was destroying the fine man's reputation. The bane of the family, they called Newt.

Newt shifted on his chair and bowed his head. What was he going to say to his brother? To his mother? He couldn't tell them about Leta, he couldn't tell a soul about that. The prospect of having to look in their disappointed faces scared Newt more than listening to Professor Black giving him his verdict. It was just awful.

"I don't suppose I can run away?" he asked in desperation with a hint of plea at the Transfiguration professor who merely inclined his head on one side and gave him a look.

"Newt!" came Theseus overactive voice. Too late. Newt shut his eyes closed as he heard his brother's footsteps. It took him his all not to stand up and run—till he heard Theseus stop just by the door in front of Dumbledore. He knew Theseus will be angry. A brief silence ensued.

"They really expelled him, did they?" Theseus was talking to the Professor while the younger Scamander determinedly kept his head down. "How was the attacked student?"

"He's well… and was never in any danger." There was meaning in Dumbledore's voice, "You read my letter?"

"I did." There was hint of dissatisfaction in his older brother's voice, "You explained everything. But I believe the fault still lies on my younger brother. Carrying a magical creature in the school premises, indeed. Someone who can't follow a simple school rule and endanger human lives shouldn't attend the school in the first place."

Newt clenched his jaw.

"Theseus." Dumbledore gave the older Scamander a reproving look. "You know he didn't mean it."

"Oh, Professor," Theseus stopped with his shadow over Newt, "There are many things my brother claims he didn't mean to do, and still did it anyway. I'm actually quite surprised he lasted in Hogwarts this long. I often wondered how the Forbidden Forest will maintain its reputation after my brother's done with it."

The younger Scamander could still not look his brother in the eye, but had he looked up, he would have seen a smile that passed on Theseus' lips and of Dumbledore shaking his head. Newt felt hollow by then and wished he could drown himself in the lake.

On a serious note, however, the two men looked each other once again.

"I received your concern." Dumbledore raised his chin, his eyes narrowing, "How's the Ministry?"

Silence met his inquiry and for the first time, it made the younger Scamander look up at his brother. He saw that Theseus' was giving Dumbledore the most meaningful look with his blue eyes sharp and if possible, even fierce.

"The Office is still turning a blind eye to the obvious tension brewing in the muggle community."

"I think it's way past the obvious. It's right before our noses. War is coming, Theseus."

"I know and pointing out that this is as much as our business as of the muggles and not receiving support from the Prime Minister… well, I think it caused me a lot when I fell out of their favor." He let out a frustrated sigh.

At that, Newt was surprised to find his older brother looking him directly in the eye. The fire in his blue eyes had disappeared only to be replaced by sincerity.

"I'm sorry you were expelled, Newt. It's partly my fault."

"How can it be your fault…?" Newt began, quite surprised at the change of atmosphere when here he thought Theseus would be scolding him from ear to ear. Although he did rely on his older brother's forgiving nature, but to hear Theseus claiming to be at fault was for Newt, the biggest mistake, "Are you mental—?"

A hand was suddenly placed on his shoulder. "You'll understand soon. Now, come on. I'll bring you home."

But Newt wouldn't move from his spot, his eyes hard at his brother.

"This is not your fault." He insisted, already in the brink of confessing to Theseus what he had told Dumbledore— about the failed experiment to an overgrown magical creature, of how it was provoked, of how Leta let it out to chase away Newt's bullies—he can tell Theseus that so he understands—"None of this—I'm the one who took the jervy back in the school—I'm the one who showed it to my friend—". He doesn't understand how it can be Theseus' fault.

Theseus was looking at him this time with an eyebrow raised. Even Dumbledore looked mildly amused.

"That's right, this is all your fault." Theseus nodded in all seriousness, "How many times have mother and I told you never to bring anything back 'in'? That's our agreement, wasn't it? You broke it, you git. How am I supposed to trust you now?"

Newt's eyes rounded, not knowing what to do.

The Slytherin were all smirking as they commented how Newt will be grilled by his Auror of a brother for being expelled. That Newt must be shaking in fear now; unknown to them was the fact that even though Theseus had tendency to be overly righteous, he had never, in Newt's life, been judged poorly by Theseus.

Theseus was not like that.

And when he does, Newt was entirely convinced he did something absolutely wrong.

And this time he was expelled. In front of Theseus who was one of the few people who was proud of him when he became a Hufflepuff, the question of being 'trusted' rose. He was expelled. What was he to do?

He was expelled. It was just sinking in.

A tear slid down Newt's left cheek as he continued clenching his teeth. It felt like his heart was about to explode. Theseus watched him and then looked over at Dumbledore who slowly exited the room without a word. The older Scamander then sighed again and watched his younger brother whose eyes were transfixed on the floor, his lips trembling, both hands closed into fists, Newt wouldn't look up anymore no matter how much Theseus goaded him or called his name.

What was he to do?

Arms wrapped about him and then he was locked into a hug.

"It's going to be okay." Theseus told him firmly, as he tightened his hold, "I'm here, I promise. You'll be just fine, Newt."

Newt cried, not only for the lost opportunity for he loved Hogwarts too, not only for the resentment he felt for the action he committed, not only for missing a year with his professors, and few numbers of friends or the magical creatures he was taking care of under the tutelage of his Care of Magical Creatures professor.

He was crying because despite everything, he was never really alone.

Together, the Scamander brothers left Hogwarts with Newt feeling just a tiny bit unhappy.

Pickett poked Newt's left eye when the younger Scamander was so lost in thought, reminiscing of his past where he sat in the same way waiting for his brother, that he forgot to blink for several seconds. Catching the Bowtruckle in his left hand, Newt scratched his eye with the free one and scowled at the magical creature.

"I told you not the eyes." He said patiently as Pickett hung tight on his finger, desperate to hold on. "No, I wasn't not paying attention. I was listening to you."

The Bowtruckle accused him again. Newt pressed his lips.

"No, my eyes do not have dreamy glazes on them, where d'you get that?"

Pickett stuck his tongue at him and crossed its tiny branch. Newt could only sigh, knowing that his friend was becoming impatient after getting stuck inside a cell for five hours with no guarantee of coming out.

No guarantee? What was Theseus doing? An arrest without warrant was sure to make his older brother storm down the citadel of the Ministry for he was an advocate of one's rights. If there was one thing that Theseus Scamander most detested, it was the abuse of power.

And though they may not be on good terms—because Newt refused to get in touch after resenting his brother for his absence in Newt's most crucial hour— knowing his brother, Theseus would still question plenty of people in this arrest. And everybody knows that once the War Hero has spoken with his dignified stance and eloquence, the rest would follow; the last time he did, he led a troop of newly recruited Aurors out on to the First Word War.

Only that—Newt Scamander wasn't really arrested without a reason. He did attack the magical law officers when they tried to forcefully enter his house. Of course, he had to defend his home, and Jacob who was not supposed to remember anything. Anyways, surely Theseus would understand. Newt suddenly felt a pang of guilt as he let Picket jump down to his knees. Theseus—when his older brother hears of this, he'll turn berserk. Theseus was never in the wrong this time—and certainly Newt wasn't either— but they've always been as thick as thieves before. He remembered when he was still young—Theseus was his hero.

So why was it difficult for them brothers to see eye to eye these days? Theseus, who no matter how much of a Ministry Man, was still a man of principle. It may even be one of the reasons why Leta fell in love with him—

Newt felt a sudden prickle on his legs and found that Pickett was enthusiastically hiking down to his toes. Sighing, the Magizoologist dropped down to pick it and let the Bowtruckle run up his shoulders, before putting his face on his palms.

Remembering her brought a heaviness of heart. Oh, how he missed her.

Blinking his eyes open, Newt found himself staring at the bars dividing him from the free world. Leta would surely find this amusing and even join him, while Tina would actually demolish the whole doorway just to get him free. Remembering Tina suddenly brought a smile on the Magizoologist's lips. He wondered if she was in London by now…

And if she finds he was arrested again? How was he to explain? What was his offence to be exact? Protecting magical beasts, the extinct ones especially, from the murderous intent of the Ministry? He remembered well in the first war, a year after his expulsion from Hogwarts of how he was recommended by his older brother to handle the dragons in the Eastern front. Newt could not believe the trust Theseus had given him, knowing his brother was already on fire with the Ministry. Bearing arms, the brothers wished each other well before embarking separately on the arduous journeys on their own. Newt had never seen so much blood and screams and dragons in one whole picture. The experienced changed him.

That's why he could not bring himself to offer the magical beasts for a war started by humans. He knows it will all be futile in the end, because in the end the humans who started it all will benefit. And the beasts?

Left to rot on the sideline with no idea whether they had done enough or too much. Too damaged even to recover and forgotten, even feared when recuperating. Newt hated that side of the war. He had seen it all before.

Pickett was on the act of poking his eye again, but this time Newt had pulled him back with a smirk on his face.

"I clearly saw you."

Whatever Pickett said, the Magizoologist had no chance to understand as he heard footsteps coming towards his cell. Putting the Bowtruckle on his chest pocket, he waited expectantly for Theseus to appear, like he always does—but only saw another familiar face—tall, balding with a grim expression in his dark coat with pale complexion and with an aura that always put Newt off—the Ministry bounty hunter, Gunnar Grimmson halted by the closed cell with a slow smirk covering his face.

"Scamander." He said in his favorite tone of mockery.

Newt stared at him with his fists closing. Terrible things come to mind whenever he sees the face of the infamous bounty hunter employed by the Ministry—of helpless magical beasts feared by many—struck down by this powerful wizard—and only because he can. Bodies of bodies of extinct magical creatures, left to die, if not with severe injuries they could never recover—only because Grimmson was paid to do so—to inflict pain on the innocent to attain money. Newt could never stomach this man and his anger whenever he appears was beyond description.

"What are you doing here…?" Newt said with undeniable dislike.

The Bounty hunter smiled menacingly. "I came to fetch you. Your brother has spoken with the law enforcement and told me to come and tell you. You are to be freed despite all the difficulties you caused."

At the mention of Theseus' name, Newt raised his eyes—expecting to see his older brother come from the corner, but instead of him, two officials acting as keeper of keys appeared and unlocked the cell. The Magizoologist immediately stood up as the gates opened and was left like that with Grimmson waiting on the other end.

Newt was silent. Unable to shake the nasty feeling whenever he was around the Bounty Hunter. Then in a flash, Newt had walked out of the cell with compressed lips and grounded teeth. He never laid eyes on Grimmson, nor did he even try to have another word as he walked passed him—not even glancing back. Newt was so furious at Theseus for having sent this man—of all the bloody hippogriff—

The younger Scamander then froze on the spot as something else occurred to him. He was already meters away from Grimmson when this hit him. Blinking to himself, hesitating at the same time, Newt's eyes fell on the floor with a frown erasing the fierce look on his face.

"You…" he began, finally turning back to the Bounty hunter with his eyes to the ground, "You said Theseus sent you…"

"I did."

"But he has other people, why would he send you?"

"Because I work for him. Under his department. I directly report to your brother now."

Newt paused with a hard look on his face, and then he wobbled on the spot till he finally had the will to look the murderer in the eyes. "Why—?"

"Did you knock your head, Scamander?" Grimmson said unkindly, "You forgot the time they asked you to help find the Obscurus? You refused, didn't you? And I took the job. It was under your brother's special task so we work together. Because you never had the guts."

Newt looked away but still did not move from the spot. He could remember the scene like it was only yesterday when he walked out of the meeting that Theseus joined him regarding the lifting of his travelling ban. It didn't work out for him and he never asked his older brother what became of it.

But for Theseus to actually work with Grimmson? Theseus detested Grimmson as well!

'It's not a matter of liking—it's about what job he delivers.' Theseus once quoted.

Newt closed his eyes and sighed. With a sharp look at the leering Bounty Hunter, he asked, "Where's my brother?"

"In his office, working. He couldn't come see you." A glint on Grimmson's eyes only sparked the determination on the Magizoologist to stomp towards his brother's office and send all his papers away to make a point. But then…

"You're telling me all this time I was imprisoned… he was only sitting inside his office for paper work?"

"Drinking coffee." Grimmson offered smugly.

Newt turned and continued walking away. "He doesn't drink coffee." He muttered.

"The War Hero has no time for you, Newt Scamander." Grimmson called above the heads of other wizards who came out of the adjacent corridor, "Go scuttle away as you usually do, you're nothing but a pain. No wonder your brother calls you his bane."

Newt stormed away. Theseus would never…

Barging towards the Auror Department, Newt was beside himself. He knew Theseus so well to believe such provocation, especially from a well-known enemy. But why wouldn't Theseus come talk to him himself? And why of all people would Theseus send someone he fully knows that Newt hated to the core? Was Theseus mad at him?

Theseus was always mad at him, but not to this extent— if anything, Theseus would probably send their mother instead!

What was wrong with his older brother?

Not in the least bit interested to show common manners when he's so upset, Newt threw open the door of the Head Auror's office despite all the eyes of other Aurors all watching him behind his back. Silently wondering if they thought him demented but finding himself uncaring, he set foot inside the familiar room with eyes falling on the man, in his favorite dark three-piece suit, seated behind the main desk who was watching him with his cool, pensive blue eyes.

Newt halted on his steps as he locked eyes with his only brother. What is this…?

"Hello, Newt." Theseus gave him a strange look. So strange even Newt had to wonder if this was his brother speaking or someone else. It was not the intensity of Theseus' gaze that caught Newt staring but the unusual emptiness that his brother had greeted him with. What happened?

"Are you okay?" Newt began, all his other concerns getting washed away at the odd behavior of his brother. Was Theseus actually hurt by the Kelpie? Was he feeling ill now and trying to hide it? Because this would not be the first time his older brother would act defiant against his own pain—and Newt was sure this would not be the last time.

His older brother looked him in the eyes, but it wasn't the kind, understanding eyes, nor was it the reprimanding but for-your-own-good sort that he would usually display. Even when the Scamanders are into one of their old arguments with Theseus holding on to his disappointment, there would always be that glint of affection that Newt never missed being an empathic Magizoologist that he was. That's why Newt could never truly hate his older brother during any of their heated discussions—because Theseus always have that impression of someone who cares. Someone who pays attentions to everything happening to him. He was always filled with concern. And in the end, his older brother would always be the one to give in. The only one to be always on his side even when they were the ones arguing and the only one to make him feel safe to be himself.

But it wasn't the case this time, Newt felt something was different. Indeed, Newt found himself frozen at the strange stare he was receiving for he had never been subjected that badly to be the on receiving end of one of Theseus' cold, uncaring look. But did Theseus ever have an uncaring look? Even during the Paris Amphitheatre rally, Theseus never had once lost his compassion—even when surrounded by Purebloods ready to swallow his team to death—even when Leta had died, Theseus had a mind to protect Paris first and foremost. Panic rose in Newt's heart.

Theseus…?

"I see you're out of prison," Theseus said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Blasting law enforcers in your premises is never a way to make an impression of innocence."

"Why are you so pale?" Newt wanted to know as he drew close towards the table with eyes searching any sign—any reason for his older brother's strange behavior. He stopped close enough to touch the table and fixed his eyes on his brother. Theseus looked up at him with a quiet smile on his lips.

"Why are you so inquisitive, you never used to care before?"

Theseus didn't sound angry. No. He didn't sound like his usual self at all as he said this in monotone. This alarmed Newt, but especially when he saw something right at the man's neck, quite hidden by his white collar—a mark of fresh scar on skin. Without warning, the Magizoologist reached for Theseus' collar and yanked it aside, revealing a long line of scar that ran from his throat down in the middle of his chest. Newt gasped as he easily recognized its markings as that of his Kelpie, and though it seemed mended, the redness of the injury was still bothersome, a kind that will obviously leave a scar.

He remembered his older brother limping away back in the menagerie.

"Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?" he demanded, eyes flaring at the Auror who did not reply but simply stared at him his blue eyes turning dark. "Theseus?"

Theseus then slapped Newt's hands away with one raise of his right hand and then stood up, leaving the surprised Magizoologist staring blankly at him, too stunned to speak.

"Stop acting like you care when all you really care about are your monsters." The Auror fixed his tie and stood behind his chair with an eyebrow arching, his expression unchanging. "Well, too bad I'm not a monster, or long ago I would have your attention in all those missed lunch and dinners. But isn't that why you're here? Isn't that why you were imprisoned in the first place? And the only reason you're approaching me now. Always the fantastic beasts. Tell me Newt, has there been any time you weren't in any trouble because of a beast?" when the Magizoologist didn't answer, the older Scamander smiled further. The one that didn't reach his eyes. "I didn't think so."

Newt dropped his eyes on the table, "Whatever you have in mind about the magical creatures, keep it to yourself. Your injury is not that simple. It needs proper dressing of someone who knows—"

"You mean someone like you?" Theseus asked testily, "No, Newt. Stop thinking highly of yourself. You're not the only one capable in terms of magical beasts. Isn't that right, Grimmson?"

Newt mechanically had to grind his teeth as he stiffened. "I swear, Theseus if you let that man anywhere near you—"

"What?" Theseus shot at him, their eyes meeting and all Newt could see was pure indifference, "You're going to walk away from me? When did you not ever? You always walk away when you don't like how things are going, Newt. What makes this one time different?"

Newt was furiously looking at the floor now. From behind him, he could hear someone was walking close and he didn't have to ask who. The way Theseus had gestured by the doorway, the younger Scamander knew who he was speaking with—but everything was so absurd! Since when have Theseus and Grimmson agreed with each other—?

The Magizoologist looked up again, his furrowed eyebrows could not hide his anger.

"Theseus, why are you working with him?"

"A common goal." Grimmson answered as he walked pass Newt and stood beside the table just before the Head Auror whose expression remained impassive. "To take down the Obscurus you so dearly want to protect."

Newt eyed him. "I didn't say I want to protect him."

"No, his exact term was to 'help' him." Grimmson turned to Theseus with a smirk and the way he familiarized himself with Newt's older brother was not to the Magizoologist's liking. Ignoring the murderer, the younger Scamander turned to his brother desperately.

"You know Credence is only a victim—I told you his story! He's vulnerable, Theseus! It's Grindelwald we need to find first!"

"And yet between the two of them, it is the Obscurus who has no control whatsoever—you really think stopping the tamer will stop the animal? That didn't seem to be the case when you were in New York." Grimmson was pushing Newt—Newt knew that but his attention was on his older brother. In no time he had rounded up on the table coming from the other side and was standing beside Theseus in a flash—

"There are many ways to capture them—you don't have to work with him!" he glared at the bounty hunter who was ever with that triumphant smiling face. Like he knew something Newt doesn't. Probably where he was keeping all those overgrown horns he had taken after slaying ten white endangered bulls. The Magizoologist turned to his brother.

"Theseus—"

"Unfortunately, Newt, I have not time for your sympathy game." Theseus coldly brushed him as he walked pass Grimmson with the younger Scamander following him faithfully towards the doorway, "If you are unwilling to even lend us the power of your magical creatures—"

"So! I told you I would be fighting on your side! I've chosen your side!" Newt insisted. "But not with him!"

"He is on my side." Theseus was adamant about this that Newt had to grab him back till they were facing each other, the anger in Newt's eyes could not be concealed—

"But I'm on your side too!"

Newt waited, but there was no apparent change on Theseus' expression. Just completely lack of his essence. But then the Head of Aurors suddenly turned his head with his mood still unfathomable, and addressed his younger brother one last time. "Have you decided what to do with the summons? Are you going to give us the dragons?"

Newt's mouth fell open as he hesitated. Grimmson chuckled from the background with Theseus' somber eyes not leaving his only brother.

"See, Newt. You've never been on my side. Not for a long time." The older Scamander said unfeelingly, "You've only always been on your own side, so why not continue fighting from there? In fact—get your suit case and leave us alone. Do that, and I promise you the Ministry will never bother you and your… creatures anymore."

At that, Theseus turned his back and let Grimmson walk first before following him. Newt stared at the floor in disbelief, still unable to grasp what was being told. He couldn't understand why he was being treated so coldly—or why it seemed like Theseus was a different person. He could understand if his brother was mad—but to completely rebuff him, even Newt found it alarming—no, something is wrong—

"Theseus!" he called again, sprinting after his brother who had just exited the doorway. Coming out of the room onto the Auror Department's—Newt found himself face to face with Travers, the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, whose eyes fell on him that instantly turned red in anger. Newt did attack his men.

"Scamander! You rascal!"

But before Newt could react, Theseus blocked Travers and whispered something in his ear. The frown on Traver's face deepened as he listened. Swallowing hard, Newt waited with his eyes on his brother. So, Theseus was still willing to help him? The thought eased his heart.

After a few minutes, Travers nodded, and with one last glare at the younger Scamander, the Head of Magical Law Enforcement turned away with Grimmson slowly following him, leaving Newt and Theseus in the middle of the hallway.

Newt wanted to call Theseus but he couldn't pull himself to do it. It was Theseus who turned to him with a swift move, and then went straight to Newt as if not intending to stop, but when he was a mere inch from the younger brother, Theseus did halt beside him where they stood shoulder to shoulder. There was a definitive condescension in the way Theseus carried himself that Newt hadn't seen before. Both hands inside his trouser pockets, the Auror did not even bother looking at him anymore.

"If I fixed this," whispered Theseus in a tone so unlike his own, as he looked straight ahead, Newt standing with an apprehension he had never felt before. "Would you get out of my way? I don't want to see you again."

Theseus went pass Newt without another word, leaving the younger Scamander standing rooted on the spot with a blank expression on his face. What just…?

But Theseus was gone.

After a moment, his lips parted open looking lost, but he pressed them back, and then wiped the silent tear that had escaped his eyes, before marching in the opposite direction, quite unsure of what just happened between him and his now distant older brother.

On his own, he left the Ministry of Magic feeling alone than ever.

-TBC-

Chapter Text

*He's an Auror, and a Hugger*

by: Whitegloves

Up... up... and we go~

Glad you are enjoying it as much as I do!

Enjoy the calm before the storm! :D

Chapter 5: The Warning

"Theseus, you bastard!"

"Language, my dear man." Came a most languid tone.

"I'm warning you boy… get doing like that, I will put you in your place! If we weren't in front of the Prime Minister, I would have blown you to pieces."

"And I for myself would have fend you off equally—and then what of your position? Being hot headed never does save anyone, Travers. Better keep your wand where it will keep you safe: in your pocket."

Travers crunched his lips and glared at Theseus Scamander. "Yes, act all high and mighty, and we'll see where that will get you. I don't know what you're playing at now, but to suggest to fight without the magical creatures, how ridiculous can you be?" He demanded as he was in one of those closed off meeting with only him and the Head of Aurors inside his office.

It was already late afternoon and the two Ministry officials has just finished their appointment with the Minister of Magic after a long table meeting. The Head of Magical Law Enforcement was bristling behind his table in obvious bad temper while Theseus Scamander stood indifferently by the tall window with his back on the man. To Theseus, he glared and said rather scornfully, "And you have the guts to invite yourself in my office after making me look like a fool in front of the Prime Minister!"

"How shameful can you be on insisting to fight with monsters?" The Head of Auror said with calmness not so unexpected from him, "You train men for war, not hide them on the behind of large beasts, try having dignity for once, Travers."

"We're trying to lessen the number of our men's casualties!" anger filled the Head of Magical Law Enforcement's voice.

"Yes, because you've trained them to be weak." Theseus slightly smiled.

"Why you little—" Travers' face turned, if possible, even redder, "I've told the Prime Minister this and I shall tell him again—you're doing this for your own benefit. You only wanted to protect that stupid brother of yours!"

"That brother?" Scamander's head finally tuned towards the old man and there was not a hint of affection in his eyes. Only deep black calmness. "I could care less about him. He would never bother us again, I told you I will do something about it and I have." Theseus then slowly turned his body to face Travers, his expressionless face somewhat intimidating the unaware Law Enforcer head. "The point of fighting a war is to start it and end it short, if that is what you mean by 'lessening casualties.' But you have your head on the air if you think magical creatures can save you and your men's skin. Isn't the best possible plan being what I have already suggested to the Prime Minister? Go directly to the source and eliminate him. Of course, none of you people is on par with the Dark Wizard, so your fear is quite understandable."

Travers frowned as he caught himself staring in awe at the War Hero who seemed even more daunting than before.

"You mean convincing Dumbledore to fight him? I tried that and it didn't work. You were there."

Theseus smirked smugly. "If you think man-handling Albus Dumbledore or threatening him would work against him, then that says much about you. Dumbledore is no idiot, Travers. He can't simply be persuaded by the likes of you. Of course, I told the Prime Minister that as well."

"Yes, that's why I'm asking—what are you still doing in my office—and why I'm not hexing the life out of you?"

"Bear with me, Travers, you're still useful. My plan doesn't need beating around the bush with any magical creatures and you know it. It's even the initial plan of the Ministry in the first place—and you're the one who's still going to give the order. Have Dumbledore fight the Dark Wizard. As simple as that."

The Head of Magical Law Enforcement raised an eyebrow. "I heard your proposition the first time in that meeting and like I said—I'd like to see you try. Let me see where you get that arrogance and see if you can actually deliver."

"Of course." Theseus' eyes glinted mischievously. "That's why I'm meeting Dumbledore."

There was a smell of boiling dandelion root, and sound of chopping on a board.

Newt Scamander is found in front of a simmering cauldron and a table full of assorted ingredients in his basement, busily brewing a potion wearing only his yellow vest atop his white-collar shirt with its sleeves up his elbow. His curly hair was all over his face but he was still careful enough not to have any of it on the boiling blend. He was doing it swiftly with his adept hands, adding mixtures in the cauldron with the contents turning from liquid grey to sticky green. He stirred it twice, before going back to his mortar and pestle where he grinded a bat wing and added a bit of powder of fairy wings. The coloring turned brown as he grinded more, before throwing everything on the cauldron again which turned visibly white. Turning his back towards another table to get the cruncher, he was suddenly met face to face with his giant Augrey bird staring at him with its large, sad eyes.

"Get off," Newt said quietly as he slightly pushed the gigantic Irish bird aside and took the jack knife on the table. Turning to his left to prepare the moonstone, he was yet again blocked—this time by the gigantic moose-like Leucrotta who was chewing on one of the leathered boots Newt used to own and which he told the Leucrotta to stop chewing on anyway. Without bothering to remove the boot, the Magizoologist went pass the creature without a word and counted the moonstone he had to find that Pickett was playing with one of it. Newt took the moonstones away and returned to his mixture. Crushing the moonstones, he added it carefully on the cauldron with transfixed eyes on the falling dusts with jaw clenched and concentration that of a Thunderbird then watched as the sticky color turned mahogany. Reaching for the ladle on the table to stir it, Newt found his hand bouncing off a niffler that was trying to put the ladle in its pocket.

Newt frowns.

"Get lost." He muttered as he grabbed the ladle and stirred, "It's not even made of silver."

He stirred a few more as the potion simmered. It was complete. Putting the ladle down to get the small glass vial which was hidden in one of the cupboards on his left—Newt was again hindered by the Augrey bird that reflected his sour face on its glossy orb eyes.

Newt squared his jaw. "Get out of my way."

But the bird only ogled at him innocently, even cocked its head on the side questioningly.

"Get out of my…" Newt repeated, but stopped in mid-sentence as the words stirred something unpleasant in his mind. That memory that would constantly want him kicking a bucket or throw away whatever he was holding.

Wasn't it not long ago when his own brother had ordered him to 'get out of the way'? That time Theseus told him he didn't want to see him. What was with that? Why was his brother so angry enough to even order him away? And since when has Theseus ever rejected him like this? They had their ups and downs, but this was the first time he's ever had his brother blatantly tell him to go away.

The memory was still too bitter to bear that Newt had to close his fists. The Augrey made no indication that it understood him so sighing heavily, the younger Scamander put both hands on his hips "Bunty!" he called snappishly, "Bunty, where are you?"

There was a sound of running feet coming from another direction, then seconds later, Bunty, his faithful assistant had appeared, pulling out her gloves and wiping her hands on her apron.

"Sorry, Newt." Bunty took a dead ferret out of her pocket and threw it in the air, causing the Augrey to fly away. The assistant then quickly took the niffler in her pocket and held the gigantic Moose by the neck, "The baby kappas' cage needed fixing and I had to feed the sky snails."

Newt nodded quietly as he went pass her, took a small vial from the cabinet and headed back to his concoction. He found Picket trailing the side of the cauldron with curiosity but the Magizoologist removed him by without prelude and dropped him on the stool next to him. Bunty watched him eagerly and couldn't help noticing the Magizoologist's mood.

"Are you okay, Newt? You don't seem like yourself lately." She asked in concern.

"I'm fine." He scooped the contents of the cauldron to the vial with full attention.

"Anything on your mind?" she asked slowly.

"It's nothing."

"Is it about the summons? You've been back and forth in the ministry…"

"Bunty." Newt suddenly put the ladle down with eyes flashing and impatience rising but he never looked at her. Instead, he bowed his head and heaved another sigh, leaving the assistant staring at him apprehensively. "Really, you should retire now, it's nearly sunset."

"Oh, but we haven't finished with the others yet. I still need to relocate the firecrabs, they tend to get into fight with the sky snails a lot—"

"I can do that on my own." Newt went on scooping the rest of the potion, "You go home now, Bunty. There's nothing more for you to do."

"I haven't counted the Nifflers…"

"Then you should." Newt grinded his teeth and realized he had said too much. He didn't need to be a grouch to her at all, but somehow his temper was getting the best of him. Putting the vial down with both hands on each side of the table. Mustering his inner temper, the Magizoologist faced his assistant with an apologetic look. "I'm sorry… It's not working out today, Bunty."

"I noticed." Nodded the lady with a sympathetic look in her eyes. "That's why I think one of us should go now."

Newt nodded and waited for her to move. When she didn't, he met her eyes and saw that she was looking at him the same way before nodding in his direction. The Magizoologist blinked.

"Oh, you mean me?"

"Yes. I still have lots to finish and clearly you're not yourself." Bunty said straightforwardly, "Plus, you're making everyone worry."

A moment of silence, then Newt looked around and found himself surrounded by the magical creatures as he stood in the center, while they ogle, hover over and watched him from all the parts of their cages with visible anxiety and concern. The Magizoologist felt embarrassed as he put the vial in his pocket and invited Pickett to jump on his hand again.

"Oh… sorry."

"Go get some rest, Newt." Bunty advised as the younger Scamander found himself locked out of his own menagerie. That was a surprising turn. He didn't think Bunty could be so persuasive, but then he had to remind himself this was the lady always wrestling with the kelpie. So, putting a hand on his hair and scratching his head, Newt slowly walked around the kitchen with a lost look in his expression. On his arm, Pickett trudged and tugged on his sleeve, asking if he was sick.

"I'm not." Newt whispered as he found a chair and slumped there heavily, causing the table next to him to rattle. Placing his elbow on the table, he thoughtfully took out the vial from his pockets and placed it on the table. Pickett jumped at it almost immediately and began asking what it was. Normally, Newt would have stopped the Bowtruckle but just this time the younger Scamander didn't feel like doing anything. He was tired. He's been thinking of a lot of things.

So much in his head. His enigma of a brother for instance.

Covering his eyes with his palm, he sighed deep and tried to think once again of why… why was his brother so angry with him? He replayed Theseus' words, again and again—and between his older brother's cold voice back then versus his annoyed tone every once and awhile during an argument, Newt would rather have the latter. The way Theseus spoke to him was a first, so filled with unconcern that Newt actually felt… terrified. It's like Theseus forgot how to be Theseus in one single night. So, was it the Kelpie after all?

Or something else… the back of his mind insisted.

There was a sudden knock on the door that snapped Newt in attention. Without knowing why, his mind quickly set on the idea that it was Theseus—probably came to apologize—or even order him around, Newt didn't care. He jumped to his feet, strode to the door and opened it expecting to find his brother with that smile on his face and an explanation for his behavior—to find a more surprising visitor this time in the presence of the MACUSA Auror, a dear friend and much more—Tina Goldstein in her dark coat and shoulder length hair wearing her adored black hat. Her eyes shone under the light and Newt could swear he felt his heart skipped a beat upon seeing her.

Her sight was never good for the heart, but he liked it nonetheless.

Tina looked up at him and searched his face— got confused by the slight disappointment that she found initially—and stood quite straight as if putting herself on guard. Was he expecting someone else?

But before she realized what was going on, Newt had pulled her into a hug.

"Don't surprise me like that." Tina told him over dinner as the two found themselves comfortable by the kitchen table with food prepared by Newt himself in a flicker of his wand. The MACUSA Auror's cheeks were still flushed under the night lamp, her heart still hammering on her chest while Newt looked twice as embarrass with head bowed. "I nearly attacked you thinking you're an impostor—what— your brother's habit rubbing off on you? Good thing I saw Pickett on your shoulder before he could poke my eye out. Should I consider that as both of your surprise attacks?"

Newt pressed his lips and tucked the Bowtruckle safely inside his chest pocket. "Sorry. He's been very… sensitive lately."

"And you?" Tina peered at him closely, "That hug didn't feel like you just missed me. It didn't feel like… well." She caught herself, turning a shade of pink, then added, "It was more like you're in pain. Did something happen?"

Newt was about to shake his head, saw the meaningful look Tina was giving him—like the ones she threw on him when they first met in New York—but this one had a touch of concern rather than suspicion. She always carried that with her—born to be an Auror, but with much heart Newt hasn't seen much on other Aurors except for Theseus. But Theseus was still rather masculine while Tina… Tina was embodiment of someone who does her job because she cares and because she's good at it too. And her ability to see pass other people, much like her sister, Queenie, enabled her to be kind. In Tina's case however, she didn't need to be a Legilimens user to see. Tina was just as compassionate to others even when she doesn't realize it herself being a career woman. She was kinder than anyone Newt has known.

So, feeling obliged never to lie under her honest eyes, Newt told her everything about the summon that he didn't include in his letters. Tina was beside herself as she listened and Newt, having known her for almost a year, could feel the intensity of her indignity of having heard that magical creatures will be used as weapons. Tina was the best person Newt has met in years.

"If they can't even protect their magical creatures, then how are they going to protect your population?" she demanded.

Yes, she was the best person in his entire life.

"What does your country plan to do when magical creatures are used as weapons against you?" he asked her, plainly wanting to hear an opinion from someone in the same career as his brother.

"We call the Magical Creature Department's tamers who have strict regulations in the matter." Tina told him with a shrug, "That's what you do, isn't it? You don't just flaunt beasts in front of the nomaj— I thought they'd be putting you in charge if that was the case. If I were them, I would have done it and let you decide which of the magical creatures would be suitable to get the job done. You're smart enough to know which can fight. It's how it works—not them sending dragons everywhere, it's not a dragon party, right? It's a risk to the nomaj population too."

"No." Newt stared at her beautiful eyes and shook his head at the distraction, "I mean, it sounded like they plan to confiscate everything I have and use them around whether there are magical creatures involved or not."

"Then that's their mistake." Tina frowned, with Newt missing the way how her eyebrows creased and came to realize that she really was in front of him. He couldn't help but stare. "You can't just send magical creatures loose without the tamer, remember the last time they got wild in New York? Doesn't your boss read reports?"

"Actually, they labelled me as the destroyer of New York." Newt blinked down his fingers, then up to her eyes.

Tina nodded slowly, and then smiled at him playfully. "Nice… a kind of nick name that suited you well, Mr. Scamander."

Newt pressed back a smile, glad he was that Queenie was nowhere around just now to read his mind, "That got me trouble more times than I can remember."

"I don't believe that, you can get in trouble on your own, Newt. Besides, you're the best man I know for the job as tamer— don't tell me they've never considered you? Graves would have sent you all out and tell you to go crazy if he was in position. And I would have followed right behind you closely, I won't leave you, you can't do everything on your own no matter how much you insist, you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because that's what I do. Follow you around."

Newt felt his whole face turn red as he pressed a smile. "I got to follow you around in France."

"Yes, well…" a sudden sad look enveloped the Auror's face that got Newt anxious to know what was on her mind. "Maybe if I didn't follow Credence there, Queenie wouldn't have… you know…"

The Magizoologist fell silent too, then reached a hand and placed it on top of her own by the table.

"Tina." He began as she exchanged looks with him and he saw actually sadness in her eyes, "You wanted to help Credence that's why you did what you did… you wanted closure when the first time you helped him. We never thought any of this would end this way."

"Nor about Leta Lestrange." She held his gaze and took his hand back. There was the sincerest look in her eyes when she spoke. The same look she had when they had that little moment before going to Hogwarts after the battle in the Amphitheatre. How he had been very worried and very relieved to see that she was okay after the blue fire. Tina had been sad at the lost of her sister, but mostly sad at the lost of Newt's close friend. She felt for him something he couldn't put into words. She understood him, he had her so there was a bit of comfort for him. He was okay.

Newt nodded as he finally took both her hands in his own and held them firmly.

No, this was one hand he was never going to let go.

"How's your brother?" Tina went on in a gentle tone that got Newt looking up.

"Oh…" he hesitated a little, before biting his lower lip. "He's doing good… I've never really… we never talk about her."

Tina nodded in understanding. "He's from the Ministry. What did he say about the summon?"

"He was against it at first, but then something happened, I don't know. He changed his mind."

"What do you mean he changed his mind? About something so important to you?" Tina was frowning again and Newt was surprised at how her soft hands just now turned hard as a rock as she instinctively grabbed hold of him.

"I don't know." He admitted bashfully. "See, we don't talk anymore."

Tina looked at him questioningly. "You and your brother? Is it because I attacked him in France?"

For the first time a real smiled appeared on Newt's face. "No, no, he'd never… he'd never take it against you. Theseus never thinks badly of anyone. He's always seen the positive in them. Even when they don't see it themselves."

He looked down his hands again and Tina saw how the Magizoologist could feel the impact of his own words. Newt looked down, afraid that she might see through him. She did.

"You miss him, don't you?" she asked kindly.

Newt glanced up, staring in surprise at the auror as if unable to comprehend her at first. It wasn't… well. He wasn't really sure what he was feeling. He knew he had been angry too. Knew he had been ignoring Theseus as well. But deep within him, he also knew he was also sad. He just didn't know what mixture of feeling was that but then as if realizing what she said was the truth, as if finally pointing the exact description of the word he was looking for, the Magizoologist dropped his head and sighed on his hands again.

"Maybe."

"Then go talk to him."

Newt quickly shook his head, his eyes shining of panic. "No… no."

One look at the Magizoologist' expression told Tina everything she needed to know.

"You fear him?" Tina said softly. "Newt…?"

"I think he's already seen me for what I really am… to him." Newt looked anywhere but her, the lump in his throat stuck, his eyes fixed on the floor. Yes, Theseus may have seen too, what a burden of a brother he was. People used to say it a lot.

But Tina only saw a child afraid of losing the affection of one of the few persons to care for him.

"Oh, Newt. I don't think that's true. If your older brother is everything you describe him to be, I'm sure he'll forgive you again. I mean, I know the feeling of having a fall out with your sibling and… believe me you don't want to separate the way we did where the next thing you know, she's already hanging out with the Darkest Wizard of all time. No proper sibling just let that happen."

Newt smiled at that but held her gaze firmly. "That was no fault of your own."

"I wish I could believe that." Tina dropped her gaze and this time, her strong cover faltered as her eyes shone, "No, I was chasing after the ghost of Credence, not knowing my own sister was battling something on her own…" she sniffled and tried to pull away her hand—but Newt wouldn't let go. Slowly, he reached a hand on his cheek and smiled.

"Us and our siblings."

Tina smiled again. "Us and our siblings." She repeated.

Just then, something tumbled on the table. Both looking on it, the two saw the vial roll on the table with Pickett after it. Newt caught the concocted potion with his hand and stared at it meaningfully. The MACUSA auror wiped her eyes and decided to pull herself together.

"What's that?" she asked instead.

"It's a healing ointment…for a Kelpie's attack."

"What's a kelpie? Wait—someone was attacked by a kelpie?" she sounded like her old self.

It was then that Newt remembered he still wasn't able to give her a copy of his book because of his travel ban, and that the last time, they were together in France wasn't exactly for a merry meeting. He should probably give her the book now before he missed his chance again.

But then something came hurtling from the fireside and Newt was forced to let go of Tina's hand as he grabbed his wand, put off the fire and then magically send two flying letters towards his direction. He caught both square on his other hand without standing up. Tina watched him quietly as he turned the letter and saw the familiar bearing of one Ministry of Magic and the other a slant handwriting from someone he knew well.

"Who's that from?" she inquired upon seeing the stress on Newt's face when he began reading the content of the letter with slanting marks but no insignia on the envelop. It seemed more important that the one from the Ministry.

"A professor of mine who I should not name out loud." Newt answered with a frown. "It's a warning."

"Warning?" Tina stood up and stood overlooking by his shoulder as he stood up. "About what? Is it Credence? Grindelwald?" Newt held the letter to her and she read it with her eyes—

Newt, watch over Grimmson. A probable spy in our midst. I keep receiving entrapments. How is Theseus?

The Magizoologist grinded his teeth as he remembered the Bounty Hunter. If Dumbledore says he is a spy, then he is. His mind quickly jumped to his older brother. Dumbledore knew Grimmson was already working for Theseus—he really was a witty man. But does Theseus know? Grimmson was always so intent on catching Credence, why would he side with Grindelwald? They should be fiercely fighting, not joining hands... unless…

Quickly, Newt kept the first letter in his pocket before opening the other. This one got his eyes round.

"What?" Tina asked in alarm again, her chin already digging on Newt's shoulder blade. "Another summon?"

"No…" he whispered, "It's… It's the travel lifting ban…" he looked her in they eye, full of disbelief, "It's been approved."

Tina walked beside him to read the contents, her eyes lighting. "That's good right?" she asked him, "You can travel internationally again."

"Yes…" Newt stared hard at the paper.

"Why don't you look happy."

"Because someone is trying to get rid of me."

"Who?"

"My brother."

Theseus Scamander was found staring blankly into space inside the study room of his house, seated like a statue in his chair, in his neat black suit with both hands attached firmly on either side of his chair. The sun has already sunk on the horizon, leaving behind its last-minute hue of red in the sky that brought upon a shadow in the room with its eerie silence, the window reflecting the dying light, casting a great forbidding atmosphere to the occupant who neither noticed time nor space.

He simply was there.

Until he was no longer alone. Two figures far darker than the shadow appeared on the corner of the room, one mighty tall and square with dominant bluish eyes, the other a foot shorter with steady built and a faint essence of doom on his wake. Grindelwald and Credence came to pay the war hero a visit.

It was the Dark Wizard who walked across the room first till he was in front of the table of the Head of Auror who gave no sign of recognizing his presence. Grindelwald observed him for a few seconds, before looking at Credence who was beside the war hero with a transfixed look on his face.

"See, my boy? The spell is in effect. I didn't think you'd question the effectivity of both our strength combined."

The Obscurus glanced at the Dark Wizard silently, before his eyes fell on Theseus' table where a portrait of a woman stood, smiling demurely with sparkling eyes; a woman familiar with Credence from memory for she was there where everything was revealed. The woman who killed his brother. Grindelwald followed where he was looking and saw the portrait. He quietly took it, obtaining a first sign of reaction from Theseus whose eyes followed it without moving his head.

The Dark Wizard's lip curled. "So, intent for love, isn't he? So much to give…" he caressed the photo and then turned it face down the table where Theseus could no longer see it. "This is the woman who betrayed him and the person that anchors much of his affection. Though yes, there was a little problem convincing him, but the important thing is he knew he was betrayed. And betrayal is a strong emotion. You made it consume him. The spell is unbreakable as there is a hair strand difference to love and hate. The more he loves, the more he will ultimately hate. There is nothing to break it."

"Newt Scamander."

Grindelwald threw Credence a look and saw that he was still intently looking at the War hero. "What did you say?"

"Newt Scamander," Credence repeated, his dark expression turning into obsession. "He keeps calling that name. Much more than hers, in his mind. His brother. I can hear him."

The Dark Wizard looked thoughtfully at the Head of Auror, and then nodded slowly. "I see. So that's the contender for her affection? No wonder he could resist well. This kind of man who has too much to give and leaves nothing for himself… what a piece of work." That left a bad taste in Grindelwald's mouth and he turned away in distaste.

"He spoke to me when we were casting the spell." Credence began with a slight frown in Grindelwald's direction who stopped, listening. "He told me Newt Scamander wanted to help me. Newt Scamander, I know him… he was the guy in New York… that's his brother…"

The Dark Wizard stood in silence for a few minutes with eyebrows contorting. It was never a good sign to see Credence doubting himself, much more rekindling the idea that he could trust other people. It was a kind of warning sign Grindelwald was avoiding. There was no need for Credence to know trivial things, but Newt Scamander was getting bothersome even in memory. Turning back, the Dark Wizard shook his head.

"Newt Scamander has no intention to help you." He said firmly, "He only wants to control you. Much like how he controls his beasts."

"I don't understand why…" Credence contemplates that got Grindelwald gritting his teeth for a second, "why is this man calling his brother? Again and again…"

That got the Dark Wizard to pause again, and then his eyes fell on Theseus Scamander too. "Why… you ask…"

A sudden streak of black smoke was sent flaring dangerously in the air, with Grindelwald and Theseus not showing any sign of vigilance for neither cared nor was scared. The Dark Wizard observed Credence with narrowed eyes.

"Why are they so close?" he went on aggressively, "why does he… love him… when my own brother…?"

Ahh… Grindelwald understood.

"Credence…" Grindelwald silently closed the room with a shield charm to avoid any detection before addressing the boy again, and this time a thought occurred to him. A thought that would send Credence against Newt Scamander forever for the boy was still looking for other people to understand him. Not this time. "Newt Scamander is not like you, you will never be the same. If you want to acknowledge him then think of him for what he truly is—your archenemy."

The whole room turned disconcertingly silent. Credence glanced at Grindelwald again who nodded.

"Yes, it's clear you two are opposite that's why you can never trust him, someone like him who was loved by his parents, loved by his only brother… and even loved by the American woman you once looked up to, if you remember her, could never understand your pain."

"I'll never forget her." Credence admitted with fist closing, "She was the only person to genuinely care…she saved me."

Grindelwald's eyes glinted malignantly.

"Newt Scamander has her." The Dark Wizard noted, "His life is a bliss… he has everything you ever wanted: love, family. He will never be like you… except now, you have one of his possession he seems to care about." Credence stood rooted on the spot as the Dark Wizard leaned towards him with menace emitting on his every word, "You have the upper hand to destroy Newt Scamander. To take whatever was his. Starting with him."

The Obscurus gritted his teeth for a moment, before lifting his hand and placing it on Theseus Scamander's shoulder.

"Yes… I'll take everything that is his." His black aura surrounded Theseus, and then in a blink of an eye, the two melted in the darkness, leaving behind an empty space and empty man.

"So, this is your Head Quarters?" Tina was saying as she and Newt walked around the Auror Department with her looking around as the Magizoologist lead the way. "It's kind of cramped…" she pursed her lips. "And plenty of males."

Newt smiled. "We have our share of women… they're just not… prominent in this department yet."

"Why? They're all still playing damsels in distress?" Tina gave him a side look and he loved the way how her eyes would sparkle even when she was only half joking. Just like an adorable salamander. "Does your department have plenty of women?" Now that didn't sound half as joking, but still adorable.

Newt nearly tripped at the sudden notion and then half glanced around in embarrassment, before closing the gap with the American Auror with his face flushing again.

"We have plenty of… you. I mean—not like you! You're different, you're good different! Not just good—very good." He stammered as they stopped walking in the middle of corridor with Tina looking very amused, Newt squirming at her gaze, "I mean… you're not like them. You're…" he stared her in the eyes and got lost there for a second. "Different."

Tina slowly smiled and nodded. "I like different."

Newt smiled. "I like it too."

The two paused with eyes on each other, till there was a brief awkward pause as the Magizoologist cleared his throat and Tina looked away with a smile still on her lips. Then without having the need for words, the two walked side by side towards the end of the corridor with a light sprint on their feet. Newt had never enjoyed a trip in the Auror department corridors but just now he felt like he can waltz in even in Travers' office and still feel thankful for the long journey as long as he was with her.

Till they stopped in front of Theseus door, that was when Newt felt a sudden coldness dampen his spirit. Seconds next, he was faced with Theseus' secretary who told him his brother was not there. Feeling a bit lost, Newt was pulled by Tina aside and they began trailing their way back.

"I need to speak with him." Newt insisted after a moment when they got out of the Ministry and are walking by London. Tina saw the determination in his eyes and nodded. Together, they disapparated.

They arrive in a dark road, just across a large Victorian home with no lights inside. Newt stared hard at the house, sensing something forbidding from within. It's been awhile since he had been there.

"Your brother's house?" Tina asked with a look in his direction and seeing Newt's undecided expression, she reached for his hand and pressed it with hers, her eyes filled with concern. "Want me to come with you?"

"Only just." Newt whispered as they began walking till they reach the pathway to the white door. "Theseus used to like my visits. Until he didn't."

"I'm sure he has his reasons."

They stopped by the doorway with Newt unable to erase the image of his brother telling him to 'get away'. It was haunting him. Quietly though, he knocked on the door. He didn't have to wait for an answer because he knew Theseus was there. There was a slight lamp light by his study room so with Tina, they entered the house quietly and closed the door behind them.

"Wait here." Newt told her as he looked up at the stairs after setting light on the fireside. The house looked very neat and felt very cold at the same time, Tina had to wrap her arms around her. She gave him a questioning look and Newt shook his head as he began letting her hand go, but before he could feel the last touch of her finger tips, she held him back again with a serious expression on her face.

"Newt, you shouldn't be afraid to speak to him." She insisted, "You told me he's the best brother."

The younger Scamander blinked twice. "I said that?"

Tina grinned, "No, but I was hoping you'd remember. You won't try so hard if you don't think of him that way, right?"

Newt could swear his heart couldn't swell any bigger. He nodded with a smile. "Wait here."

Stepping on his big shoes, he took the corridor to where he knew the study room would be. Stopping by the door, the younger Scamander took a deep breath and then knocked—its sound echoing in the silent hall. Without answer, he entered and was met with a kind of cold breeze upon entrance so unlike the wind even when he was on one of the outdoor shelters of his magical beasts. The room was half dark with only green light on the walls. Theseus was by his table, immobile but with dark eyes following Newt's movements the moment he came in.

Like a predator waiting for its prey. The younger Scamander felt apprehension under his gaze but continued forward anyway. Upon reaching the table, Newt placed a paper on Theseus' table who looked once at it, before turning straight up to Newt's face. His face was very tranquil, like no expression could replace his eternal calmness. This alarmed Newt as he struggled to see what was the matter. Well, at least, Theseus didn't seem like he was going to bite any time soon. Then Newt realized he wished Theseus would. Because then, it meant Theseus cared, unlike now…

"I told you I don't want to see you anymore." Theseus began neither sounding hostile nor angry. Just plain nothing.

"If you know from my track record, I never really listen to you." Newt gave his brother an innocent look who merely raised an eyebrow at his rebelling nature. "On occasions." The Magizoologist then added tentatively.

"What is this?" his older brother asked without raising his voice, pertaining to the letter on the table.

"Dumbledore's warning." Newt said with eyes fully watching his brother, "He said you have a spy in your office."

"Dumbledore did?" he turned the paper with his hand unfeelingly, "Who?"

"Grimmson." Newt watched his brother's expression closely and saw that he looked unsurprised. How was it that his brother could lose all his expressions at once? "You don't look worried?"

"Figures." Theseus then said as he leaned back on his chair with an easy look on his face, "That's why Grimmson's been sent to Azkaban shortly before you came."

"What?" Newt's eyes widened.

Theseus smirked. "Why do you think I put him close under my observation. He's been on the list of 'concerns.' I do my job well. And thus, there was no need to concern yourself. I shall be meeting with Dumbledore tomorrow too as he has agreed to deal with the matter with me. We will end it there, end of discussion."

A moment of silence, Theseus didn't break their eye contact and its intensity got on Newt first that he had to look away.

His older brother smiled icily. "You should go."

The plain lack of emotion was already getting on Newt as he slowly took the paper and crumpled it on his hands. He exchanged looks with Theseus again, before finally gritting his teeth and shaking his head.

"Why are you like this?" he demanded, feeling the swelling frustration rising up to his throat, "Why are you pushing me away— what did I do— what happened between us? This is unlike you!"

A terrible feeling came over the younger Scamander as he found Theseus' gaze turn dark upon his words.

"You don't want to go there, Newton." He said, full of misgivings and the use of Newt's name brought an unfamiliar chill on his skin. But Newt has made up his mind—in order to understand his brother—in order to get over this wall slowly rising between them—he had to know. He couldn't possibly lose his brother over something so simple.

"Tell me."

Theseus raised both eyebrows and then his hand fell on a portrait that was lying upside down on his table. Newt had just noticed it, and when his brother turned it up, the Magizoologist held his breath to see the same photo he had once had safely kept inside his suitcase.

Leta.

Theseus' face didn't change, it was still expressionless. Yet his eyes said otherwise.

"You sure you want to go there? This is your last warning."

Newt looked sadly at the portrait, and then up at Theseus' face. He couldn't imagine the silent agony of his older brother, he couldn't even imagine what he must be going through—for him to turn into this unfeeling person. Newt had witnessed plenty of cases with his magical beasts with their partners, when one couldn't just survive without the other. Not couldn't. Wouldn't.

That's why affection was an important factor for all creatures. Because loneliness can kill.

Was this what it will take to bring out his brother back? Even when Newt knew things will never be the same.

Oh, Leta…

Bracing himself and standing his ground, the younger Scamander nodded. It was time to open that wound.

"Tell me."

-TBC-

Chapter Text

*He's an Auror, and a Hugger*

by: Whitegloves

It's Christmas! This is how we Christmas!

*silently shoots tissues up the crying sky*

Enjoy! :o

Chapter 6: The Exodus

It was the same photograph he was holding on to years back.

A photo of her with its inscriptions at the back: ‘Always with you.’

Newt had been staring at it absentmindedly as he sat on a chair in front of an overcrowded desk filled with books, papers and whatnots of moving objects, mostly tiny figures of dragons running after house elves and a Bowtruckle chasing after them. He was inside a confined room of what was literally his worst nightmare: an office with a desk. It was his first year working in the Ministry of Magic ‘Being’ Division of the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and was assigned especially in the Office for House-Elf Relocation. The place was far from neat, but bearable as papers upon papers fly around in lines of getting sorted on different areas magically, some getting stamped on, others going straight to the bin while the rest places itself neatly on piles on corners. Then there were those untouchables on Newt’s table that needed personal consideration. Newt was just reading on his notes of the latest House Elves that were inconsiderately set free by their masters when the photograph fell from one of his books and he had sat there staring at it with a lost look in his eyes.

“Master Scamanders!” called a gruff voice of Newt’s only companion in the division, “What are we to do with this, masters? It’s another request to relocate those pesky house elves from the Leaky Cauldrons. Those three vermins that were relieved off their duties because they exposed themselves to those muggles in the pubs? Blasted creatures can’t even stay a day in White Harts when the bar master accepted them. It seems they all think Gramp’s old Gredarious beer is better in Leaky Cauldrons and made the owner of White Harts know that. Pesky vermins with no respects.”

“You should stop calling them that.” Newt patiently turned to his left to face an old, senior house elf with flappy downside ears, graying skin and perpetually narrowed eyes that seemed to scrutinize all his movements, wearing a blue ragged apron that he made to his size, seated by the available table near the fireside with tons of papers on either side of him, “I mean, you are a house-elf too, Happy.”

Happy gazed at him for a moment. And then stamped ‘rejected’ on the paper he was holding then let it fall on the waste basket. Newt sighed as he watched the old elf. Happy was one of those ancient looking house elves that once served a very powerful pureblood family that fell from grace with strict house elves codes. How the family disappeared, Happy never divulged being a mark of a true house elf, but whoever were those people, it seemed clear that Happy got most of his strong remarks that sometimes even make Newt’s ears go red.

“A dignified house-elf, master Scamanders, who stays in the jobs he’s given.” Sniffed the old house elf as he put another paper down, “Any dignified house-elf knows to stay-put where he is put and serve masters to their hearts content, not making a shows for muggle kind or demands a return someplace they’re not want to.”

Newt quietly turned back on Leta’s photograph, before slipping it inside his pocket. “Well, maybe House-Elves are not given much choice, Happy. That’s why they feel the need to demand sometimes.”

“Master Scamanders,” glowed Happy with a narrowed look at the wizard who stood up and stretched his arms, “You are too kind. But what will happen to our future generations if you keeps this up? That’s why those young earthlings feel they can do what they wants to go from places they’re not want to. You keep putting it in their heads. Next thing we knows, they’ll be asking for clothes every day.”

Newt shrugged. “I simply asked them where they want to be located.”

“Which you must not, masters. Or everyone will be saying Hogwarts.”

“Well, why not Hogwarts?”

“Blasted place has too many happy house-elves. You cannot know House elves’ loyalties unless you put them in places they don’t want to, Master Scamanders. Where they sticks is where they grows.”

“That’s awfully chappy thing to say, Happy.” Newt put one hand at the back of the chair and one hand on his waist, his eyebrows rising, “I have plenty of friends who are house-elves in Hogwarts.”

“That’s why I said. They are too happy, masters. A mark of a true house elf is their invisibility in doing tasks, masters Scamanders. There is no dignity for us to make friends of our masters. Masters should only make friends with another masters. Masters who commands where they go. Not House elves demanding places they’re not want to.”

Newt looked thoughtful for a while, “I don’t really see a problem if they want a place to go to as long as they are still house elves with a home, Happy. That’s our job. If they want to demand, then jolly good, as long as they are accepted.”

Happy suddenly gave Newt another critical look behind his gray orbs. “Then must you not demand to be relocated too, masters?”

The younger Scamander turned abruptly at the old elf. “What?”

“To be relocated, Master Scamanders. Relocated from this Division to Beasts?” the elf suddenly gave a long look at the figure of dragon chasing the elves on Newt’s table. “You don’t like your tables is what I know. You don’t like your jobs is also what I know.”

Newt followed his eyes and then scratched his left eyebrow. “No, it’s not that I don’t like the job.” He admitted, finally taking Pickett off from the dragon who had successfully cornered the house elves figures. “I just don’t like working on tables generally.”

“Then masters must demand as masters see fits.” Happy bowed his head, his ears sagging down, “Masters cannot stay in this jobs if he is not happy with it. Masters must go free because he is not a house elf. Go, masters and find a new jobs.”

But Newt thought he felt like a house elf without a choice too as it was not his decision to make.

“This is so typical that my younger brother gets kicked out of his job by a house-elf.”

Newt spun so quickly behind him to find the owner of the voice standing by the pile of paper works with his arms crossed and perfect smirk on his face. Tall for his age but with almost the same features as Newt does, Theseus Scamander appeared in the cramped room in his blue suit and blue eyes which were twinkling at the scenario he found.

“Theseus.” Newt breathed in surprise as he watched his brother walk towards him with an interested look at Happy. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard my brother was getting bullied at work,” Theseus told him as they stood close enough, his delighted expression somewhat making Newt exasperated, “But I have to be honest, this is the kind of bullying I cannot do anything about.” He shook his head and gave the house-elf a wink. “You taking care of him, Happy?”

Happy bowed his head, “Master Auror Scamander has paid another visit. Happy will excuse himself to prepare teas. Master Scamander must forgive Happy for being unprepared as Master Scamanders rarely has visitors.” With that, he disapparated, leaving the brothers staring at the spot where he disappeared and then looked at each other.

“He’s usually not that avid of seeing visitors too.” Newt sighed as he turned to the table to grab the dragon terrorizing the house elves, “You didn’t have to come here, Theseus.”

“What? I wanted to know how you’re doing.” Theseus looked around, saw everything in order and put hands inside his pocket. “Well, it’s not bad. You’re still helping the betterment of House-elves. Isn’t that what you told me? To provide better environment to mistreated creatures?”

“I didn’t say it was bad.” Newt piled his books of other magical creatures and walk around towards the book shelf, Theseus following close behind, “But yeah— in case you came with a better offer, the job here is tedious in the extreme.” He put the last book on the shelf quite aggressively, “I mean—it’s all paper works and decisions isn’t quite up my street—”

“Yeah but it keeps you out of trouble even for a while.”

“When is work never trouble?”

“It’s not the work that brings trouble to trouble.” Theseus suddenly muttered. “What is this?”

Newt look behind him to see his older brother bend down the floor to pick up—to the younger Scamander’s horror was the photograph of his best friend. Newt dived forward almost without thinking and tried to snatch it before Theseus could turn it around—but his older brother being the more agile and taller one, managed to raise it up the air and the Scamanders were locked in wrestling match as Newt tried desperately to reach it—

“Give it back!”

“Wait what—who is this? Is it a lady?” Theseus was grinning like a fool as he kept it out of reach, “Who is this?”

“I’m not telling a bugger like you!” Newt said in annoyance and alarm, “Give it back!”

“You git, you had a girlfriend? Who—?” Theseus raised his eyes to have a better look, but the photograph vanished from his hand and then appeared on Newt’s. Untangling themselves, Newt pushed his older brother away and kept the photo inside his pocket. Theseus was still grinning.

“Master Auror Scamander must not tackle Master Scamanders in a closed space.” Happy’s grouchy voice said quietly as he set the tray of tea down the table with a reproachful look on his face, “Master Auror Scamander must not break anyone’s necks down here as he does above floors.”

“I don’t break necks, what do you tell him, Newt?” Theseus gave the younger Scamander a surprised look.

“I don’t tell him a thing.” Newt replied, “They apparently have meetings about us, and you’re quite a name there.”

“Oh.” Theseus looked curiously at Happy, but then shrugged it away as he put both hands on his hips and grinned back at his younger brother. “So, just when were you planning to tell me about that special lady friend of yours?”

“I don’t have special friends.” Newt muttered, turning his back pointedly away.

“Come on, Newt, you can tell me. You won’t be keeping that photograph if you don’t!”

“Masters Scamanders looks at its every seconds, Master Auror Scamanders.” Happy supplied that made Newt threw a look in his direction while Theseus grinned knowingly.

“I knew it. Come on, Newt—”

“Bug off. Don’t you have better things to do?”

“Yeah, but tell me!” he tapped Newt on the shoulder who pushed him towards the doorway, “Tell me!”

“Leave already!” Newt grinded his teeth, but in the next moment, had his head locked on his brother’s arm who ruffled his brown curls so roughly he felt his scalp would tear away— “Stop that!” He tried to hit his older brother but missed him as Theseus lightly stepped back and walked away on the corridor, fixing his suit with a smile.

“You will tell me about her!” the older Scamander called back to his younger brother and then disappeared on the stairs.

“Bugger.” Newt hissed as he scratched his mass of curly wavy hair and walked back in the room with the photograph secured inside his pocket. There will never be a day that he would tell his nosy brother about Leta.

Newt reminisced of this memory feeling just how fate did them so wrong. How fate did Leta wrong just when she was so happy. There was never a day that he didn’t remember her, and every time he did he would remember his brother.

Why he and Theseus didn’t talk about her, Newt could blame his incompetence to communicate well. But in his defense, since that day, Theseus had always appeared before him like he was okay. And then everything happened too fast, and before Newt could even recognize what particular expression of sympathy or even the right words to say during difficult times, this already happened. He was never good with people to begin with, but he at least hoped he was with his older brother.

But then the credit should still go with Theseus. Theseus never made it difficult for him like the others did.

Except now.

Newt stood there watching his older brother, with apprehension growing at his lengthy silence. What about Leta was Theseus referring to, though? Something that made him harbor such strong emotion of hate. Theseus was never one to succumb to anger and blame people for it. Death was not common in Theseus’ field, being the auror, he has more experience in handling matters of lost. But then Newt figured, what does he know of his older brother’s vulnerabilities? The last time he saw his brother so vulnerable was when he cried in his arms when they lost her.

And Newt thought he knew…

There were things that even Newt wasn’t privy to in his older brother’s life, one of them was his romance with Leta and even if he was, how could he openly speak of it when the woman his brother was engaged to was the same woman he once loved? Theseus was clearly grieving her loss like Newt had never seen him before.

Was this the result of his ignorance? Then pray tell.

Theseus suddenly smiled lopsidedly after a second that caught Newt off guard.

“What do I tell you? I don’t know what to say.” He began quietly, his tone dull, “Perhaps I don’t know where to begin.”

Newt’s eyes fell on her photo. “Theseus, if Leta’s death is too painful for you, you know I’m—”

“Painful?” Theseus raised his chin, but his expression bothered the younger Scamander the most. “That’s right. I’m in pain. Because I’ve been betrayed.”

It was Newt’s turn to raise his head with complete surprise in his eyes. Betrayed…?

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t act innocent, little brother.” Theseus reached for the photograph, and turned it down indifferently. “Why didn’t you tell me about you and Leta’s past?”

Newt’s body froze like he was electrified. “No, there was nothing—”

“Liar.” Theseus said it with such a relish it cut Newt like blade on flesh, “Leta told me everything before we got engage. Of your special bond.” Newt blinked, then watched as Theseus stood up and walked around the table with the Magizoologist left staring at his empty chair. “I was merely waiting for you to confess, even get in the way, but then I never saw it in you. Admittedly I did not see you as a threat for her love, you know why?” Theseus’s dark luminous eyes reflected the green light. Newt barely opened his mouth but what was he to say? As if taking his answer, the older Scamander went on— “Because you never stood up for anything that mattered.” His languorous tone crept up to Newt’s ears, his eyes dark reflecting a shadow too deep. “At least, not on your love. Because you’re a coward.”

Newt stiffened with eyes falling down the floor. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I? Or perhaps,” his older brother continued with the lopsided smirk on his face Newt had never seen there before, “you never truly felt deeply about her. Just a passing emotion of two lonely people. You always had a weak spot for the misunderstood, Newton. Tell me, did you see her as one of your rare creatures?”

It happened before Newt had time to let his brother finish—that he lunged forward the table, grabbed his older brother by the front shirt and pulled him up by the collar with his eyes flashing. “Don’t you speak about her like that!”

“I seemed to have touched a nerve.” Theseus’ uncharacteristic response of indifference got the Magizoologist to finally let him go slowly and to take a few steps back, his own rage at bay. Theseus remained looking at him with a smile. “It’s her photograph you’ve been keeping with you all this time, wasn’t it? You did love her. And I took her from you. You silently resented me for taking her away, didn’t you? So that’s why you keep avoiding me—all those invitations to lunch and dinners. I didn’t know you hated me so much, my little brother.”

All his words were beginning to terrify the younger Scamander. “Stop putting words in my mouth, Theseus— I never—”

“Liar.” Theseus repeated, then his eyes glinted and Newt was taken aback at the mass hatred visible in his once gentle eyes. But Newt was at the corner of his own. Theseus was frequently mad at him for his mischiefs back then and whenever he does, his eyes were always filled with fire of concern—but now he only saw two glassy orbs of black magnified by the green light that flickered in the background. And almost too suddenly he saw something in there that stirred. Newt’s lips parted open but it was gone in the next second—

“Theseus—?”

The smile on Theseus’ face that didn’t reach his eyes remained. Newt could only stare at him for a second, the hollow feeling at the pit of his stomach now sending his body to shiver as a possibility struck him. No…

“And what are you doing?” The Auror asked quite calmly, his eyes falling at the tip of Newt’s wand who, without warning, had pulled it out and was pointing it at his brother.

“I never hated you, Theseus. If anything—I respected both your decisions—” Newt said as he tried to keep his wand hand firm, “But something is not right with you…” If what his gut was telling him was right, then this man right here— it is possible because then Theseus would never say…

“You’re not even worth the try.” Theseus managed to say and remained seated on the table looking unconcerned.

Newt gritted his teeth, “Revelio!”

The end of his wand sparked for seconds as Theseus’ eyes glinted—but nothing happened.

Newt stared at his wand, and then slowly looked up as his brother who laughed out loud, while Newt stood in confusion. He was then alerted when his older brother stood up in his full height to face him. Newt thought Theseus would pull out his wand to return the favor but he just stood there, towering in front of him looking indomitable.

“What did you expect to happen?” came the question without any interest for answer, “Did you think it wasn’t me? Or did you really hope?”

Newt backed away, not knowing why he did and why his wand was pointing aimlessly at the floor. “No—I thought—”

“So much for denial.” Theseus went on nonchalantly, “That’s why I said you’re a coward. You couldn’t even take my words without thinking if I’m real. Why, Newt? You really think you’re that special for me?”

This above anything struck Newt as he swallowed hard, feeling a mixture of anger and disappointment reaching the lump on his throat. If this was Theseus—if this was actually Theseus, then Newt had things to say to him as well—

“Then are you so beneath yourself not to see that Leta loved you? Because she chose you, didn’t she? Why are you making a big deal of our past—she chose you!”

“Chose me? She never loved me, Newt.” Theseus declared quietly, his dark eyes dead, “It’s always been you.”

Newt stopped dead. He didn’t know how to react to that as in his mind’s eye memories of Leta Lestrange flashed before him—of their first meeting—of her constant companionship—of her smile—of everything that is her— from beginning to end he knew he loved her, till there was Theseus in the middle—

In the middle—? Did I really have ill thoughts of my own brother—?

“No…” he whispered but Leta’s eyes spoke volumes to him. And her last goodbye. Theseus saw, he knew.

“You know why she chose me?” came the cold tone that had Newt looking up, “Because she thinks you’re too good for her. That she didn’t deserve you. You deserved someone better. But she still wants to be around you no matter… she couldn’t bear to be apart from you, yet can’t forgive herself if she taints you… and look what she’s found. A brother.”

Newt’s jaw tightened.

“That’s not true, Theseus! She loved you! She—”

Theseus’ plain smile was unnerving—like he actually believed everything he said. And Newt suddenly realized—Theseus did. So was it why—was it the reason he was so change? Leta’s goodbye seemed far away now, but for Theseus to see that it wasn’t meant for him even when he fought so hard for her—? That all this time Newt had her heart—?

Theseus then stood up and walked away towards the window where he never turned back. And Newt was left staring at his brother’s back, letting the silence and the darkness haunt him and severe something between them that once was so strong.

Had he looked any closer before he left the room, Newt would have seen the real effect of his revealing charm on Theseus’ neck where the writings of the dark spell burned bright, crossing down to his chest, covering his whole body, even slithering down to his covered arms. But no one will ever know.

Newt stayed up all night pondering over his older brother’s words inside his dark room. Brooding about what Leta meant for him and when Leta started giving him the cold shoulder that lead to their estranged relationship. When was that?

Ah, yes, when he was expelled from Hogwarts. He tried exchanging letters with her and received nothing in return. In retrospect as he remembered her before leaving Hogwarts, he had never seen her look so afraid and guilt-ridden, like the way she did when confessing of her crime back in the Amphitheater. Was she so afraid for Newt to hate her? Or probably… she was more afraid of hurting him further.

‘She can’t forgive herself if she taints you.’

His brother’s voice echoed in his ears, it made him put a hand on his face. It pained him to think that Leta would see herself such a sinner enough to keep herself away from him. But the pain was greater every time Newt thought of his brother who believed Leta in such a way. And now Theseus believed he was betrayed. Was Newt also going to have an estranged relationship with Theseus now? And what of that shadow behind his brother’s eyes?

Newt raised his head from his hand. That was another thing he couldn’t keep out of his head. Despite everything he understood from where his brother was coming from, he still couldn’t help that nagging feeling in his gut that something else was happening. That was no ordinary flicker of the light.

Newt abruptly stood up from his table and paced in the room like he did so many hours ago. Everything else about Leta and her true intentions aside, Theseus’ was still acting too different for Newt’s liking. He had tried the revealing charm because it scared him to think that his brother may have been possessed or worst, not him. But the charm didn’t work and his older brother even mocked him for trying.

Yet, that was it—Theseus never mocks people. But that charm didn’t work— but then there are other ways to know.

These thoughts filled him the entire night and kept him wide awake. Pickett was with him, sitting on the table while dangling his feet, watching his every move. Newt finally found himself planting his back on the wall, deciding the next step to take regarding his brother. His eyes then fell on his table where the letter from Albus Dumbledore lay beside the Bowtruckle. The letter came late just as he returned. Dumbledore gave him another location of where to find Credence on another country. Dumbledore was still not giving up on the boy, and so was Newt.

They needed to find him and protect him from Grindelwald’s ploy.

That was another thing Newt had on his plate. But to go abroad now and leave his brother be—was that for the best?

He walked towards the table and read Dumbledore’s neat handwriting under his lamp but his eyes then fell on the other letter he received as a warning previously: How’s Theseus? Newt stared at it. Looking at the window where the break of dawn was upon him, the Magizoologist snatched his blue coat he carelessly discarded at the foot of his bed the night before, then headed downstairs with his feet thundering down, he even jumped the last two steps and rushed towards the living room.

Only there he had to halt as his eyes fell on Tina who was fast asleep by the large comfortable chair near the fireside with a mug tipping down from her hands. Newt quickly caught it as it fell and then placed it neatly on the side table. His eyes went back to Tina’s peaceful sleeping form and didn’t want to wake her. She must’ve been pretty exhausted to sleep so soundly—coming from France and getting dragged on Newt’s problem— but why was she sleeping here?

Newt looked back at the kitchen table and saw their two empty mugs still there. He remembered how the two of them had stayed up all night with Newt unburdening everything to her upon her command. She didn’t leave him off the hook the moment they came out of Theseus’ household noting how distracted and down hearted he was when he stormed out of the house. He could still remember in details what he told her, especially about Leta. Tina listened well, but instead of focusing on the late Leta Lestrange and her relationship with Newt, Tina had tapped him gently on the subject of his brother.

“If you can actually believe that’s your brother, Newt. Look, when you told me you and your brother had a complicated relationship the time he chased us in the French Ministry, I honestly thought it’s because of some rivalry that turns ugly. I initially believe he was the kind of man to give you a hard time. But after the amphitheater, the way you looked at him, Newt. The way you were so close to him—you even invited him to come meet with Dumbledore with the other Aurors because you didn’t want to leave him on his own… I don’t think it’s the kind of relationship even Leta—or anyone—can get in between. So I get it, if you feel that’s it’s not him—you’re actually the only person to know.”

Unconsciously, Newt reached a hand on her soft cheeks. She stirred and he smiled. He didn’t know why her sight was so calming, he didn’t even know if he would stop watching her anytime soon knowing that there was something urgent he had to do. But he stayed nonetheless. It was something he wanted to do. If only time would stop.

Sunlight slipped through the curtains the same moment Tina opened her eyes. She found Newt watching her as she blinked in mild surprise.

“Newt?” she asked, sitting up straight and rubbing her eyes. Then the sharp look returned in her dark eyes almost immediately as she threw it at him. “Did you even sleep?”

“Why are you sleeping here?” Newt asked with a permanent smile on his lips, watching her stretch and look for the cup she remembered she was holding, to find it on the side table.

“I thought you’d come down, I heard you pacing in your room a lot.” She said, fully awakening now as she looked in his eyes. “You didn’t sleep well, did you?”

Newt shook his head, “I need to see my brother again. I’m going to consult with Dumbledore. They’re supposed to meet today. I think he knows something.”

“You still think your brother’s under some kind of spell?”

“I think he is.” Newt gave Tina a serious look. “Because Theseus would never…” he paused, then pressed his lips closed as he found her eyes again as if it was necessary that she understand— “Theseus would never blame me for anything.”

He stopped talking after that, his eyes filling with light as he remembered his older brother. Tina nodded at him without question as she stood up. “Then let’s go. We can always come after Credence once you’ve calmed down about your brother.”

“You don’t need to come—” the last he remembered was Tina falling asleep in one of Theseus’ couches last night where he nearly forgot her as he dashed out of the house if she didn’t notice him out and ran after him. This made Newt feel a little embarrass.

“And miss seeing your wizard school? I barely saw everything when we last visited to give this professor his necklace—you have to take me.” Tina gave him that look—Newt was caught immediately with that soft look of a pleading fluffy bunny he couldn’t look away at. Tina smiled. She knew she had won the moment he nodded. With a flicker of her wand on her clothes, she was perfectly presentable again that made Newt get conscious of his own hair. “Shall we?”

Before the Magizoologist could reply, however, the floor beneath their feet gave such a shudder that Newt and Tina both hand to catch each other’s arms. Then silence, leaving the couple staring around in caution.

“What’s that?” Tina asked, preparing her wand all the same as Newt did. “Was it a magical creature?”

“I hope so.” Newt said rather looking alarmed as another shake happened that had him holding Tina firmly when the walls and things came falling down the floor with crashes. Below them they could hear the magical creatures rampaging and panicking— “Magical creatures I can handle,” he added when it stopped shortly and the two automatically ran to the door onto the outside, “But if it’s something else…” Newt’s voice trailed away with eyes rounding at what he saw, “…it may take a while.”

“Oh no…” Tina whispered as she saw it too for right above them was a mass of black smoke, like thin dark birds hurtling and forming in furious slides and preparing for another assault— covering half the sky—enveloping the entire vicinity. And then it lunged towards their direction—

“Get inside!” Newt grabbed Tina and closed the door after him— but everything shattered and loud shrieks were heard from below as half the doorway was smashed to pieces—and two wands lit up the whole room to shield themselves. The air was bending and swirling around them, creating a hurricane—

“Newt!” Tina shouted in disbelief, both hands on her wand, “Is that what I think—?”

“Yes!” Newt answered back loudly, eyes widening at the apparition, “An obscurial!”

McLaggan slumped himself down the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall and yawned. It was breakfast and the hall was already filled with last minute students joining their friends in their respective Houses. Blinking on the muffin in front of him and finally taking one, the third year Gryffindor student munched on the bread before looking up the staff table on his right. His eyebrows furrowed.

“Dumbledore running late again?” he turned to his dormate who raised eyes at him.

“Nah, you missed him. I heard he’s having visitors from the Ministry.”

“Again?” McLaggan remembered the last time a bunch of Aurors came around while they were having a class and he was dueling with his professor. He never really liked them. “Why don’t they make him the Minister of Magic already. Everyone knows Dumbledore’s the most powerful wizard of our time.”

“If they make him the Minister, who do you think will teach us Defense Against the Dark Arts?”

“We don’t need Defense against the Dark Arts if he’s the Minister, you idiot. He’ll finish anyone against him singlehandedly.”

Meanwhile, Professor Dumbledore has just left his office urgently with a note at hand. He had been notified a day ago that Travers and his company will be making another call early today. It was quite surprising that they informed him when under normal circumstances, they would come barging in like the school was a pub house or something. This kind of consideration made Dumbledore cast out his networks to find the reason behind the meeting because as a rule of the thumb— Travers was never that polite.

Walking in the corridors of the West Wing, along the tall marble windows overlooking the lake and the bridge pathway leading to the entrance of the school, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher stopped on his way with narrowed eyes. From there he could see them. As he had expected a group of Aurors was already marching on the driveway towards the school—about three of them. So few a number, Dumbledore thought as he strode away, determined to meet them halfway. Intentional meetings like this required caution while abrupt meetings required action. Whatever Travers had in mind, Dumbledore was sure he would be quite amused again. Theseus Scamander will be with him, he supposed, as message didn’t include anyone in particular. That had Dumbledore thinking hard as the line connecting him to Grimmson stirred both his curiosity and attentiveness. He will find out soon though. So never going against his better judgement, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher headed to meet his ardent visitors.

Travers looked up as the school gate draw near and had to remind himself bitterly that this was his fifth time entering those gates in less than three months. The last time he was here, he vowed never to comeback. It was the same thing he said on his third return, and the one before that. It did not improve his mood.

“We better succeed this time, Theseus.” He said grudgingly as they crossed the gates and now walking on the trail heading to the castle, “I won’t be having another visit here without a warrant of arrest.”

“That’s a pity.” Theseus replied just behind him, “As this is your last.”

“What?”

“The school is protected with a strong charm.” Came the Head of Auror’s tranquil voice as they entered the stone threshold and stopped before the marble staircases leading to the great hall. “But it is quite useless when the attack is from the inside.”

“What are you talking about?” Travers snapped, looking back and only to see a flash of red blasting him away—

Theseus barely acknowledge where he was thrown as it was his companion who made the attack. The two stood there for another second, before a whip of gigantic dark smoke began forming behind the Head of the Auror, casting shadows on the floor—and then without warning it shot upward and zigzagged towards the Great Hall—

McLaggan barely finished his drumstick when the Great Hall’s ceiling which was once a portrayal of morning blue sky suddenly thundered ominously and repeatedly—enveloping the entire vicinity with unfathomable darkness, sending some students screaming in fright and alarm. Professor Black, the Head Master who sat at the center of the staff table stood up with a plain severity in his expression. Everyone fell silent. Waiting. The other professors slowly stood up.

Then came the chaotic eruption, and then something hit the walls, the floor of what looked like a wild shadow—the entire room shook— filling the halls with students screaming and crying as the paved aisle cracked in the middle and went towards the staff table like an invisible excavator— shaking everything madly setting everything in pandemonium--

Until Professor Black raised his wand and whipped a strong shield charm between him and the shadow as it sprang in his direction. The crazed black smoke was deflected— then it went even wilder and casted attacks in all directions on different table— on the screaming students—

Dumbledore sent a jet white spark from his wand, at the same time as the other professors did— enveloping all tables with a warm barrier while Professor Black kept a steady hold on the barrier protecting his staff. From there, the black smoke was contained in the ceiling where it merged with the magical clouds, creating thunder and lightning—while the bewildered, afraid, even excited watched with open mouths from below.

“An Obscurial!” cried Professor Prendergast as he kept his wand pointed in the sky, “How is that possible!?”

“We need to evacuate the students, an obscurial that size is dangerous we cannot keep it for long!” Professor McGonagall was beside herself as she also watched Dumbledore march towards them.

“Yes, but what sent this!?” came another staffer as the large smoke violently tried to escape its captivity, creating a tumult above their heads as it mix

“The attacker is inside,” Professor Dumbledore said, eyes on Professor Black, his words making the other professor gasp “We have to evacuate the students—Professor Black—”

“All Head of Houses to your duties.” Professor Black without needing persuasion, “With your Prefects and Head boys and Head girls. Lead the students back to the dormitories. Other teachers keep this thing in the Great Hall— if we cannot contain this, the whole castle may collapse, we need to act with precaution and haste. I will throw the unwanted visitors out of Hogwarts—the school’s historic enchantment is not to be meddled with, and Dumbledore you—”

“I will meet them outside.” Dumbledore said without batting an eyelid as three other professors volunteered to join him. He could not tell them precisely what to expect. Truthfully, all he knew was that Travers and his team came, with Theseus. Remembering the line connecting Theseus to Grimmson and then to Grindelwald, Dumbledore had an implicit idea of what may have happened, though he was more concerned of the victim. All the Professors moving in perfect synchrony, the Head Master made an announcement to all the students who all quietly and fearfully marched in great numbers outside the hall, led by their Head of Houses. Mass of students evacuated the premises on to different floors, cautious and quite honestly looking for it, as McLaggan was with his wand out, eager to show his acquired knowledge from his favorite Professor.

But the perpetrator was nowhere near the Great Hall. He was inside the Defense Against the Dark Arts room with eyes transfixed at the empty office. It was clear his target was not around. Just then he felt his own feet lose its balance, like the ground melted away—everything in his eyesight went obscure—and the feeling of getting pulled from his spine made him realized he was being expelled from the vicinity.

Within seconds, Theseus found himself standing once again outside the bridge leading to the castle. The approximate distance where one can apparate and disapparate. Beside him stood his companion. Hogwarts had ejected the two of them using its ancient enchantment invoked by the Head Master. But lo, Theseus’ eyes narrowed at what he saw walking in the driveway of the school towards them…

Albus Dumbledore.

He wasn’t alone though as he was accompanied by three other Professors who all looked up at him as he strode toward to meet them. The other Professors glanced uncertainly at Dumbledore.

“Scamander?” one asked but Dumbledore only watched his former student with concern.

“Unfortunately.” He whispered as with a heavy heart, he pulled out his wand. “I need to save him.”

But before the others could respond, green jets of light came raining upon them—deflected one by one by Dumbledore. Frowning, he saw another man behind Theseus—another nameless Auror who was aiming at them without prejudice. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher flickered his wand—hit the auror in the face whose body shook—and his face turned disproportionate.

“I know it’s you.” Dumbledore said grimly as he watched the face of Grimmson emerged from the disguise.

Grimmson smiled at him as he and Theseus began paving their way in their direction with raised wands—the battle began almost at once as Grimmson kept sending them jets of red and green light— and then Theseus joined in. The three professors took the two of them while Dumbledore stood at the back, watching Theseus with his eyebrows contorting. Why, it didn’t feel like he was being controlled. It didn’t feel like it was an imperius curse at all… what was it?

A green light came striking towards him but Dumbledore deflected it again with another spell. The duel of two against Grimmson and one on Theseus was proving lethal—only until Theseus managed to blast his opponent away—head for Dumbledore straight—and got blocked by the other professor from Grimmson’s corner.

A loud crack then came—and before Dumbledore stood Newt Scamander who apparated in front of him and who looked mildly surprised to find him there.

“Dumbledore—?” the younger Scamander blinked at him while the Professor stared back— but Newt’s attention was taken when he noticed wizards battling behind him with rains of deadly light, he ducked at one spell spiraling from somewhere as he turned behind him.

That was when Newt saw his older brother take a man down with a lash of red light. Theseus…?

“Newt, that’s not your brother!” Dumbledore called from behind him but got engaged with Grimmson after the latter blasted his opponent down— “Newt!”

Theseus headed down Dumbledore’s path with Newt on the way—he watched as his older brandished his wand and pointed at him—dead eyes unrecognizing—and opened his mouth—

“AVADA KEDAV—”

Newt’s lips parted open as green light flickered in his eyes—but the jet of spark was from the dueling couple on his left.

Theseus did not finish the spell.

Instead, what Newt saw was his older brother staring at him with an agape expression, breathing as if realizing what he nearly did, his wand left forgotten in midair with mixed expression of fear and bafflement in his blue eyes.

Newt mirrored his brother’s expression, until slowly he saw his brother’s face turn in an inexplicable pain that had him kneeling on the ground, shaking and gasping for air. Instinctively, Newt ran towards his brother, unaware of Dumbledore who had blasted Grimmson away, calling him to be careful. But before the Magizoologist could reach his older brother, however—a surge of wind came—and in a blink of an eye a shadow stood beside Theseus.

Newt’s eyes widened as he saw Credence standing there with his dark eyes lingering at Newt for a brief second. Then without ado, the boy with a smirk of triumph on his face placed a hand on Theseus’ shoulder and disapparated on the spot.

Leaving Newt starring at the empty space with a start, his heart skipping a beat.

Theseus…?

-TBC-

Chapter Text

*He's an Auror, and a Hugger*

by: Whitegloves

Now it's New Year! I'm interrupting all holidays!

Thank you for all the support! Overwhelming and truly unbelievable!

Do we end next...year?

Enjoy! :o

Chapter 7: The Labyrinth

Tina Goldstein has just apparated in the premises of Hogwarts where Newt had left not twenty minutes ago, not expecting to find a chaotic scene of the Zouwu with its flamboyant soft tail flipping around, roaring as loud as it could around a dozen robed Professors she expected came from the school. Not knowing what happened, she looked around to find some nurse hurrying after two stretchers bearing bodies while one sadly was covered with sheet. The American Auror blinked and then ran towards the Chinese creature—so something happened here too? Someone died? Where in Mercy Lewis' name was Newt?

She called around near the Zouwu and found behind its neck as she had expected, was Newt looking quite distraught but determined at the same time. He was clinging on the magical creature with a strained expression while talking to someone standing directly below the Zouwu's head. Whoever it was must be very brave to be standing so close near the creature's mouth— then Tina recognize that tall man in a gray waist coat with a beard grown fully around his face, electric blue eyes and crooked nose famous not only in his country but to hers. He was watching the Magizoologist with his thick brows furrowed and somewhat appealing reason—but why?

"Newt, calm down—" Dumbledore said, not leaving his ground while the Zouwu shook its head and blinked at him.

"No, Dumbledore—" Newt said in rather strained voice, reeling from shock, that had Tina gazing up at him in concern, "I will not stay here—I cannot stay here when Credence has my brother under that curse—!"

"You don't even know where to look—"

"Credence has your brother?" Tina repeated in a high tone, eyes widening as she stood by the Zouwu's feet who recognized her and nearly squashed her with its fur in an embrace. She found Newt's eyes on her as she emerged from the cotton fur and recognized unconditional fear. He was serious in jumping away with the Zouwu to scour around the world. "Newt?"

For the first time, Newt seemed to let out his fuse as he exhaled when he found her eyes. Tina did not break the contact until she saw his shoulders slightly fall back, but defeat was ever on his posture. Dumbledore sighed too the moment he saw Newt settle down all thanks to his friend. "Newt—let's talk about this."

Minutes later we see the party inside Dumbledore's office in Hogwarts comprised of the Professor himself, Newt, Tina joined by Travers who had surfaced from the attack with only a bump at the back of his head. Tina had heard everything on the way and was quite determined to stick with the Magizoologist while Travers glared at everyone.

"We have spies right under our noses and we didn't even realize it!" he was saying grudgingly, with jaw squared and nose flaring, "I have to get back in the Ministry to tighten security and anti-impersonation-impostors' spells. I can't believe Theseus let himself slip this bad—he's the Head of the Aurors and War Hero—who knows what kind of order he's been giving since he was compromised!"

Newt glared up at the Auror with knuckles turning white at the clutch he was making.

"That is unfair." Tina said beside the Magizoologist with a frown at the head of whatsis she doesn't even remember. No, actually she did as it was mandatory to memorize the recent Heads of other Ministries, "We are against a Dark Wizard who has with him a powerful Obscurus and who uses Dark Magic. No one can face against him unprepared and no one should. So it would be much better to lay off the blame and get on working how to find him."

Travers glared back at the American Auror she recognized from the reports from MACUSA. He then turned his attention to Newt Scamander who was looking down the floor this time with a dissatisfied look. "Since when was he under control?"

Newt stared hard at the floor as he had been thinking about that too and could only be sure. "Before my last summon in the Ministry. The one he didn't attend." He remembered it too well. Why didn't it even cross his mind to check on his brother when he knew Theseus would never deliberately ignore him?

Travers made sound between grinding his teeth. "That long? You're his brother and you didn't even realize till this late?"

"Of course he did—!" Tina was beside herself but was cut off when Newt grabbed hold of her hand to stop her. The Magizoologist didn't need telling for he was already blaming himself silently. The moment Travers said it however, caused something inside of him to break in pieces. Holding on to her helped him stand firm.

"Grimmson is in our hands, Newt." Dumbledore spoke from his corner and they saw him standing in front of his table with a very solemn look. "It's only a matter of time before we find where they are. I ask only for your patience."

Newt shoot Dumbledore a glance who was also looking at him meaningfully. Travers shook his head at them.

"Patience, Merlin's Beard— a staff member died! What are we waiting for? What happened to Grimmson?"

"He's still unconscious." The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher replied.

"Then rennervate him!"

"I don't think it's that easy in his condition."

"Why—who did him?"

"I did." Dumbledore was plain unimpressed as Travers was.

"How about the Obscurial in the castle—?"

"It disappeared the moment Credence disappeared."

"He's got my brother, Professor." Newt found his voice again as he remembered Credence appearing before him and taking his brother in a blink of an eye. Like some horrifying dream. "He's got Theseus and you told me he's under a powerful dark curse…"

"It can't have been anything than that." Professor Dumbledore looked painfully at the Magizoologist, "Newt, those markings on your brother's neck are symbols I've never seen before."

"Grindelwald." Tina suddenly breathed what everyone already understood. "But why Theseus and Hogwarts school—?"

"It is aimed at me." The man looked at them, but especially Newt who was watching him quietly too.

"None of that matters," the younger Scamander blinked at the floor, "What matters is I find him alive… and what am I going to do when I find him? Alive?" his voice broke a little at his last word, eyes shining unexpectedly.

Dumbledore stared at Newt sincerely with his heart going at the young man as he put both hands inside his pocket. "You bring him to me. I cannot be sure of the nature of the curse but it might endanger his life if it goes on too long. But we cannot move not until Grimmson's body is able. We don't have any other lead, I'm afraid."

"No thanks to you," Travers muttered with a glare at the younger Scamander too, "And you will not be working on your own. Theseus is part of the Ministry and therefore my responsibility. You will act with the other aurors in charge of hunting that Obscurus as well—"

But Newt had had enough as he met the Head of the Magical Law Enforcement squarely in the eye—

"With all due respect, there are many things I cannot do but saving my brother is not one of them."

Travers was struck as Dumbledore pressed his lips closed while Tina alone smiled openly at Newt finally standing his ground. The Magizoologist wasn't finished, however, as he shifted his feet and blinked at the professor.

"I'm sorry, Professor, but I really can't stay. My…my house was also attacked and had Tina look after it when I came here. I have to make sure everything is alright. Send me an owl when Grimmson's ready."

Dumbledore eyed him silently and Newt felt that sensation of the man seeing through him, before he nodded.

"Be careful, Newt." Called the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. "I really hope I can help you."

"You can, I'm sure..." Because Newt wasn't sure of anyone else who can help his brother at this point. Everything felt surreal as he and Tina quietly made their exits. His mind must not be right at the moment; he still didn't know where to start. What kind of curse was it? There are many ways to break curses but Dumbledore looked afraid. That didn't bode well. He needed to find him quick, nobody seemed to feel the urgency of the situation more than he did—because right now all he could sense was Theseus greatly suffering somewhere and prolonging it was breaking Newt's heart in thousand pieces.

"Will we die, just a little?" Newt grinded his teeth as Grindelwald's voice broke in his memory—that day he was caught in the underground in New York. It was him. Always him. He's got my brother.

I will save you. Newt vowed. Wherever you are… Theseus!

Yet none could have expected the chilling darkness he was trapped in for it was not made by any man but of the Dark Wizard who drew his powers from Dark Arts. Dark Magic nurtured from the bitterness and malice of tortured souls who drowned at nothing but grief, anger and sorrow; a magic that breathes death and torment to those ill-fated enough to be wrapped in its gloom, feeding them vile thoughts and mercilessly sucking out their light and breaking in as it evilly imprinted its hatred to what once was whole.

And in that swirling mist of nothingness, this man ran. He was breathing but he could not feel air in his lungs. His arms were free but he could feel shackles pulling him down as coldness wrapped his body. He was desperately trying to escape, but like a labyrinth he was trapped in an endless maze of frozen flame and darkness consuming him with fear. But he's been there before. It's all too familiar and too real.

Yes, it was real.

The grey sky had fallen on earth sending a horrifying image of hopelessness, clouds closing in too thick choking things that breathe, the atmosphere too dense it robbed anyone of will, the fog paralyzing and suffocating with echoes around wishing everything to end. He found himself in a shadowland with no other color of life nor smell except of gun powder, soil, blood and sweat. His own skin felt thick with dirt and mud covering his entire being, his boots slipping now and again to the clutches of mires, yet his feet wouldn't stop running towards hell. Wearily, he moved forward to the horizon of the battle field, heedless of the torrential shower of boundless bombs from the unknown that covered everything with mist of red, his ears ringing as bomb shells shatter and cracked and broke the earth, sending mounds to the rising flames engulfing no ends.

He could no longer feel his body, every inch of his muscle was begging for him to stop. He was moving forward as there was no turning back. His chest was heaving in pain, his insides burning and his nose clogging of soot mounding in his lungs. He had forgotten what fresh air felt like. Forgotten how it was to feel the beam of the sun that did not scorch like he was in hell. Yes, he must be in hell—that was what a warzone should be. But he refused to believe he was the only one alive, refused to believe that he was the only one fighting back. They were waiting. He could hear them screaming, crying for help so he ran forward. If he could find them—if he could save them— in the front lines—

Then he was assailed. He saw dark clouds surging towards him and raised his heavy arms— his wand sent flying jet sparks that knocked his foe—and he brandished it again to the fireballs blasted in his way which broke in the sky like fireworks— and he fought more invisible opponent as he could count all the while dodging the flames as it rained upon him.

It was an endless battle with no promise of survival.

Hell on earth as the First World War.

He gathered all his will as he confronted the attack and when they ceased he ran more, not looking back. Stepping finally on the mound like hill overseeing the entire plain, he saw to his distress, a sweep of bodies on the ground. He finally reached them. Soldiers. Fallen soldiers. Amidst the unbearable smell of blood and raw flesh; surrounded by the roaring flames that crept to his feet, burning disfigured bodies and taking what it could. Theseus held his breath. More bombs landed on the region, and fire spread wildly—and it was no ordinary fire and he just knew it was the other 'them'. Breathless, he disembarked forward, fighting flames with flames, oblivious to his own wounds believing there are survivors— the night kept burning. All he could see was fire, but there was no time to hesitate. As much as he wanted everything to end, he couldn't lose time dwindling on his heartache. He saw bodies of soldiers half buried on the ground, unmoving, covered in dirt, dead. Amongst them were young muggle soldiers—underage soldiers that were allowed in the army. Children who opted to fight not realizing how horrendous and horrific wars can be. But none before was the wiser.

He trudged forward, gulping his cry of despair. He held on to his rage at the unnecessary loss of lives he wanted to save from the beginning. If not all of them then at least someone—anyone—!

And then on the slope ahead he saw a moving figure of a man sitting on the ground and cradling a body on his arm. He ran to him, stopped momentarily by a crackle of fire he fought back against, saw it roar towards the figure so Theseus leapt forward behind the soldier and gave all his might to draw it away.

Kneeling quickly beside the man after succeeding, he saw the soldiers' eyes were tightly closed. He shook him and he responded with a gasp. Theseus calmed him, assured him he was not an enemy. Looking down on his arms he saw a boy not older than fifteen with eyes closed. Theseus quickly checked his pulse and nodded at the soldier in relief.

Yes. He's alive.

Looking around, he saw three more youngsters staring back at him hopefully as they took cover. Theseus nodded at them.

Let's go.

He began standing up, but felt the soldier cradling the body tug on his pants. Theseus looked down and saw the man shook his head. He raised his arms, begging Theseus to take the body. He's my brother, the man said. Speechless, Theseus looked down the man's lower half and saw his mutilated legs bleeding incessantly. Looking back at the soldier in the eye, he did not see pain there. Only gratitude. Clenching his jaw, Theseus nodded and waved his wand. The boy's body rose from the ground but the soldier could no longer respond. He was dead before Theseus could even summon the strength to look away from his blank eyes. Standing straight, he nodded at the three other young soldiers who rose to their feet with fear in their eyes. Then Theseus lead the way.

If he could at least make sure they survive… if he could come back and save more… His Ministry told them that this was not their fight, that this was the Muggles making a stand against each other to make a better future. A future of what? A future paved in the blood spilt of the young and innocent? These were children fighting helplessly in a war carelessly made by the powerful. The children who end up suffering and waiting for the pain to disappear without the hope to see tomorrow.

No, this was no fight of muggles. This was an annihilation.

He hasn't taken more than five steps when everything around him exploded. Thrusted on the ground heavily that nearly knocked him senseless— his grasp on his wand tightened as his instincts draw him to fight. A searing pain on his forehead and the mass of something hot and thick sliding on his cheeks told him he was bleeding. His legs were numbed and wouldn't move but his concern for the young soldiers on his care made him get up and look up the sky— and saw rain of bombs upon them—

Theseus wielded his wand and it responded to his heart's desire as it split the shells and shattered in the air, creating a blast of wind that encouraged the fire to spread. But there were more and Theseus nearly broke his arm at his unrelenting attempt to block them— but he was alone and there were too many in the sky like dark forbidding dots mocking his magic for this is what the Muggles can do when provoked. He threw a shielding charm that covered half the land but the flames climbed high from another end—making Theseus remember that anti-muggle wizards were involved and were doing everything to make it worse—he watched as the shield charm broke and one by one the bombs landed that shook the ground, unearthing buried bodies and sending them in the air along the soil—throwing everything in chaos—and the boy the soldier asked him to take now dead.

Theseus' eyes reflected everything crumble to pieces with heart hardening. He breathed hard feeling helplessness in the middle of a battle creep to his soul. He tried to reach them but they were all dead. On his feet, dead. The battlefield was eerily silent and the grey sky was enveloped with bombs raining towards him and he watched them come in anger—

Who's responsible for this?

But he was running again. He didn't know how long but it felt like forever. In the blazing fires of the battlefield like a labyrinth that went on forever. He fought off the missiles in the air and found himself in the place with the soldier cradling a body on his arms. Theseus gathered the young soldier on his arm, watched the injured soldier slowly die with his eyes staring emptily at him—before everything around him exploded. He and the boy were thrown on the earth and the boy was dead before he could even touch the ground. Theseus tried his might to reach for him, his heart exhausted at the stench of death surrounding him but he knew someone must survive. If it's not him then at least let the boy—

But bombs shattered his view to pieces and the boy was no more than dust in the air. Theseus could not scream. He could not explain the pain on his forlorn heart but he was nonetheless a soldier. He had to fight, he knows it. If he doesn't then what was he doing running forward into the flames again? He needed to save them—he needed to go there— at least save someone.

The red sky fell and all that was there was vast darkness. He was running with a body on his arms with light only he could see struggling as he might as powerless as he can be. The boy was young with a mess of golden brown hair. He looked down again as the familiarity struck him and gasped as he recognized that pointed nose and freckled cheeks blessed with gentle eyes that won't open—his own younger brother—but how was that—Newt? Newton! Voices screamed in his head but Newt remained unresponsive.

Theseus knelt on the ground, trying to wake him. He couldn't have been dead—he should not be dead—

He tried to point his wand but it was not on his hand. He shook his younger brother but his pale face only fell on Theseus' chest limply. He wasn't returning. He wasn't even alive. Panicking, Theseus cried for help—for anyone to come and save his brother because he could not—like those hundreds of soldiers he could not save when they were at the reach of his hands—now his brother was dead.

Not dead— please not dead!

His lips quivering, he held on the cold body that was his brother, pulling him close to his neck and holding him tight, afraid that he would be taken. How did it happen? Who was responsible?

'Them' came an answer in the dark, and a pale claw like hand landed on his shoulder from behind. 'You've fought valiantly, but your efforts remain futile. They will always end like this. You can't do anything. And now everyone you hold dear will die."

Theseus's eyes fell down and from there in his horror—saw his own younger brother's face dissolve into nothingness. Leaving him clawing the empty air—

No…!

'Why do you mourn for him?' a voice so ever placid whispered on his ear.

Surrounded by darkness, Theseus breathed hard, defeated and exhausted. His perspiration was cold; his whole body was in flames of pain he could not remember where came from.

And then someone else was there with him in her dark gown. Theseus raised his bright eyes and recognized her form standing a foot from him. He could recognize her from afar. He would always find her because he was always looking at her.

Leta.

Saying her name caused a burst of blue flame from the ground that divided the darkness. Theseus stood up with his fists closed, the blue flames dancing higher and higher as it encircled everything he could see, parting him from Leta who remained on the spot in her beautiful dress but unseeing eyes. And he called for her, promised her that he would protect her as he stood in the middle of the ring of fire. And Leta walked towards him—he tried reaching for her hand—

'Why do you mourn for her?'

She stopped as so did Theseus. And then she looked back on her right.

'I love you.'

Theseus watched as his younger brother stood on the spot, watching her. Stunned as he was, he was more afraid than ever for like déjà vu it felt like he knew what was to happen next—and his heart broke as he called for her to run away—to go back—to grab Newt and go.

But Leta burst into blue flames and Theseus screamed in devastation and he lunged towards the fire that never caught him. Shaking, he looked around with that great sense of loss that was eating a part of his soul. Screaming inside while he desperately looked around, calling for her to come back.

'Why do you mourn for her?' came the deep voice again, 'She never loved you. It was always him.'

Theseus turned in Newt's direction and saw his brother just stood there, watching him.

Newt…

'Hate him.' Commanded the voice as the swirl of blue flame opened the path between him and his younger brother. 'Hate him'. Theseus stood there, immobile and as darkness swirled together with the blue flame. She was dead, who cares about everything. She was dead. 'Hate him.'

But all Theseus could think about was Leta and her demise, of Leta who was always in pain. Of Leta who was constantly trying to hide from him but he found her. Yes, he found her. She trusted him and he promised to protect her. But he let her die. He watched again and again as the blue fire consumed her and the agony in his heart was unbearable. 'Hate him.'

Hate who? Theseus never hated anyone in his life more than himself for failing her. He never should have left her that day. Remembering how her eyes pleaded for him to stay when he told her of the raid—to stop chasing the ghost of her life that was forever her burden. But Theseus wanted to protect her. He wanted to save her. She has suffered enough. She's been lonely enough. At least her, let him save her. Please…

But she died and it was all he could do not to resent himself. He let her die as he stood there. The blue flames flared upward as something sinister dark came and wrapped itself on him like an black ink cloth, striking him with flood of sensations of malice as Theseus remained standing with head bowed for who knows how long. Hate was easy and drowning himself to it was the only compensation for his loss. But what was he to do now? So much death on his hands and he was the only one always to survive… for what purpose was there? He couldn't save her and it was enough reason to hate himself. Darkness consumed him. Who was he left to protect?

Theseus raised his head up as he noticed someone was still there. Who was it?

Someone familiar with messy brown hair. Someone donning a blue coat. Who was it?

Newt. Theseus knew that name. Newt. Yes, his troubled younger brother. Troubled? He was shy is all.

'Kill him' the voice urged at the back of his mind that caused a slight stir on Theseus gut.

'Why?' he found himself asking as he stared at Newt's form who was unmoving and lifeless.

'Kill him.'

Theseus raised his wand and made for his younger brother.

'Kill him.' Repeated the voice. 'He betrayed you. She betrayed you. Kill him. Kill him.'

Theseus strode forward with no clear intention of what he was doing, wand at hand only to find his brother still staring at him with a look of fear. 'Kill him. He hated you too for killing her. Let him be dead.' Theseus waved his wand. He stared at his brother who just stood there, waiting for him.

But Newt looked so sad and Theseus had to grit his teeth as he blinked back tears. That was right, Newt saw Leta die and he loved her too. Hate him? Newt never did anything to receive anyone's wrath and he was always in pain—how could anyone even think of hating someone so innocent—?

The blue fire died out as something inside of him broke—like shackles shattering at something so powerful—

Theseus smiled at his brother's gloomy form. 'It's going to be alright, Newt. You still got me.'

But Newt's figure dissolved into the dark that then wrapped itself on Theseus skin and etched marks on his very being— to his very soul—clinging like it had never done before as the shackles once again formed to his arms— to his legs— to his chest—his whole body, wrapping in like scorching blades, burning him—

Pain. All that was left was pain.

In some dark castle at the top of a mountain…

Queenie sat at the foot of her bed with some apprehension, clutching both her hands and biting her lips in a manner that reflected her uncertainty. The castle was empty except for her and it did not bode well for anyone. Grindelwald was nowhere and Credence suddenly disappeared on her just when she offered him her Apple Strudel. Well, she did find herself making a lot of it and not touching them after. It reminded her of a particular nomaj. But Credence left and she didn't know why but with the Obscurus out there with a wand in his possession, she could only imagine the worst for those who would stand on their way. And who does she know of people only too eager to meet the Dark Wizard toe to toe without regards to their own safety?

Two people come to mind and it made her smile a bit at how predictable Newt and Tina could become together. Her sister who was a Thunderbird and Auror, a position that never stopped her from doing reckless things most of the time that gets her into trouble more than she could handle. Tina who abides law to a fault being an auror, but also would not hesitate to break them if she deemed it was wrong. She was as simple as that which had the blonde Goldstein thinking, why can't she break the law for her own sister and the love of her life?

Queenie didn't mean to argue with Tina when they last spoke, and she knew her sister was only upset because of mistaking Newt getting engaged. She didn't even have to hear Tina's thoughts about the British Wizard, she knew her sister well with her subtle smiles and twinkle behind her eye every time she would read his letter. How wonderful it was that Tina's feelings were reciprocated because the last time she saw Newt, he was so honest she could see hearts in his eyes. When he found Tina wasn't with her and Jacob, he was quite dismayed too— as he should be after all the suffering he's put her sister through. But it was alright. There was love between them as true as the stars and Queenie was even half excited to have them meet again because maybe then Tina would see how Jacob meant everything to her.

The Legilimens user bowed her head and found herself staring at her fingers. Well, maybe she shouldn't be that excited if Newt told Tina what she did to Jacob. That would only prove Tina how crazy she had become.

Crazy? Tina said the same words and though she normally used the words as an expression, that time it did really hit a nerve. So what if she was crazy madly in love with a nomaj? Wasn't her sister madly in love too—so mad to even date Achilles Tolliver after her heart got broken? Was it so wrong to be so crazy when it came to a person you really love?

Crazy? Jacob said that too. Why can't Jacob understand? She read his mind enough to know what they had was true and she longed for it—she longed for the image that Jacob saw beside her because unlike any men, Jacob—Jacob has the most wonderful dream and generous heart. His dream with her was a warm, loving family. She found herself wanting it too. Was it crazy to be crazy about dreaming a life together?

Queenie fought back tears and sniffled, her red lips pressing tight. Tina should have known better than act like the auror when it came to family matters. Tina did not understand. A career woman that she was. Was the vision Grindelwald showed her really the only way to get that dream? And what of Newt and his brother? She knew something bad was already happening with Grindelwald and Credence out there but with Newt's brother under their control, she could only hope Tina was nowhere Newt right now. Because Queenie didn't think Newt's brother would survive any of this being under the direct grasp of the Dark Wizard.

I'm so sorry, Newt…

The whole castle suddenly turned evil and cold, making Queenie raise her head expectantly. Wiping a tear on her pale cheek without smearing her dark mascara, the Legilimens user stood up, flaunting her ankle-length dark blue dress and inch heels that made sharp sounds on the stone floor as she found herself half running to meet them.

Reaching the above floors, Queenie was awed to find the Obscurus by the ceiling, in his dark form of webbed darkness, growing larger, creeping to every part above her head. She stood still for a moment, gaping at the Obscurus, feeling her body shiver, it took her everything to remain in the room. Someone then moved on the far corner near the tall glass window that made Queenie shift her eyes. The Dark Wizard was there too, quietly standing with his back on her. Slowly, she approached him, her eyes getting drawn back at the creature as she felt something else was there. It wasn't wholly Credence whom she could feel inside… someone else…

She stopped behind Grindelwald, eyes transfixed at the center of the dark crawling smoke. Something in there felt familiar…

"What's happened?" she asked him, knowing something about boundaries when it came to the Dark Wizard but at the moment she could feel something sinister had happened outside. She couldn't help trying to read his mind as it always come to her naturally, but it was no use.

Grindelwald glanced back at her for a moment, his vibrant eyes of blue and gray holding his thoughts, before looking up at the Obscurus. "He's made his first step against his enemy on his own."

"What…?" Queenie held both her hands. She hated it when she couldn't hear their thoughts just when she was very much anxious to know, to understand, "What does that mean?"

The Dark Wizard turned back on the window, hands behind him.

"He's attacked the Wizarding School of Hogwarts using Mr. Scamander." Grindelwald paused as if deciding the words to use, but Queenie despite being unable to read his mind, could feel that he was unhappy with the result, "He's been exposed earlier than I had intended. And very clumsily at that."

"He did not succeed?" Queenie knew the whole intention was to have Dumbledore fight Theseus and kill him. She knew it was what Grindelwald wanted for that way, it will divide Dumbledore to one of his most loyal ally, Newt Scamander. It was always the plan. She didn't have to hear it from his thoughts, the aura in the whole castle was reeking of it because from the very beginning, Grindelwald never believed anyone could kill this Albus Dumbledore.

Apart from him.

"Where is he?" Queenie found herself asking as she looked around expecting to see the Auror sprawled on the ground, but saw no sign of him.

"He's in there." Grindelwald raised his eyes at the ceiling and Queenie's feet turned cold as she slowly looked up too onto that sight of tangled dark lines breathing as if in itself was life—it slithered above them like a giant spider web filled the most horrendous dark magic, creeping down to the walls with immense wretchedness and melancholy on its wake. Queenie unconsciously raised both hands to her cover her lips as she watched the creature drop down from the sky and build itself into a human form of a boy—and Credence emerged from the blackness with all the clouds seeping into him till there was nothing.

And there was no Theseus Scamander still.

Queenie held her breath as she watched Credence meet her eyes, and then to Grindelwald who said nothing. He then quietly walked away to the stairs and left the room, leaving the Legilimens user staring at his back in disbelief before turning back to the Dark Wizard—

"You said—" She didn't have to finish her sentence as she found Grindelwald smiling.

"Unexpectedly, the Auror nearly broke the curse… but breaking a dark curse is not easy," A glint on his eyes appeared, an ominous one. "Had he continued he would have died in its clutches."

She gripped her hands. She knew that too. "So he's still alive?"

"Death is inevitable for him now that he's useless. He's been consumed. Let Credence do what he will. He's been coming in and out of the castle, have you noticed?"

Queenie was lost for a moment. It was true that the boy had been coming and going as he pleased, but she was assured Grindelwald always knew his exact position. But what does he mean consumed? Where then was Newt's brother? And how was Newt? She wanted to ask so many questions but she knew there was no way to get an answer without appearing doubtful in the Dark Wizard's eyes. Was this what she wanted?

"Queenie," came Grindelwald's unexpected address that got the American witch looking up with a start. She found him still not looking at her but there was a pensive look on his face. "I recall you telling me you have a sister."

A beat. She had intently looked at him. "What of her?"

"Credence is still a sensitive boy." Grindelwald turned to her, expression unreadable. "And he's made a connection with her before. A strong connection. Do you know what I mean?"

Queenie shook her head. "No…"

The Dark Wizard quietly looked away again. "There is something I wish you to do. For the cause."

Hours had already ticked by and still no news from Dumbledore came. Newt Scamander who had just returned from one of his errand—which here means contacting several 'special' creatures to open their eyes and ears for any sign of the Obscurus—after separating from Tina, pulled his thoughts from the recent news he had gathered. Yes, there were movements from Grindelwald's supporters, and yes the wizarding world was trying to cover all these tracks but nothing of the sort where a powerful obscurial had appeared before them as far as most of them could tell. The Magizoologist went back somewhat defeated and spent the next hours fixing his household when Tina also returned mainly after reporting to MACUSA of the development with the Dark Wizard.

It was the only time Tina found him stumbling up as he sat on the floor with a brooding look and twirling his wand with his hand. Newt avoided her eyes, but couldn't help looking up after her patient sigh.

"He tried to kill you?" Tina then exclaimed after a minute with Newt giving her the exact detail of his confrontation with his brother, forgetting the baby nifflers that were dangling on her arms while one had succeeded to jump on her golden locket, her eyes wide, "With a killing curse?"

They were both in the menagerie this time with the Magizoologist raising the shield charm and doubling its effect as he looked tenderly back at her. "He fought it…I saw him fight it." he stopped, feeling his lips dry as he slowly lowered his wand. "I think my brother came to his senses before he could finish it… the look in his eyes, Tina…" and then Credence came along… Newt gritted his teeth and couldn't imagine what the dangerous obscurial could be doing to his brother.

Tina watched him quietly, before she decided to cross the table separating them and stood behind him. From there she could see Pickett at the back of Newt's collar, ogling at her curiously, and then at the nifflers hanging around her shoulder.

"Your brother is strong, Newt. He's still fighting the curse. He' still fighting until now."

"Yeah, but he's in danger and I'm…" there was a large lump in his throat. "I should have noticed earlier."

"Beating yourself won't help." Tina said as she put the baby nifflers on her hands to the table, grab Newt by the arm and made him face her. His guilt ridden face made Tina sigh and took both his hands in hers. "Look, Newt, we'll get him back. We'll get them all back—him, Queenie—even Credence—". But Tina saw his eyes flashed at the mention of the name and had to stop and press her lips closed. "Newt, what is this—am I the only one being Middle-Head now?"

Newt stared at her, and then blinked in wonder. There goes in his memory when he remembered chasing after Tina when she ran out of Nicolas Flammel's house in France. He was trying to make her listen to him but she brushed him off saying how Newt hated Aurors. But Newt tried to explain that she was different because she was not like any other Aurors whose answer to everything they fear or misunderstand is kill it. Tina never wanted Credence dead and so told her that she's gone middle-head.

"I can tell you where it derived from about three heads if the Runespoor," she went on with eyes narrowing, "but I can't see its importance if I can see that you are not with me. Newt, we still don't want Credence dead, right?"

The Magizoologist kept his eyes at her. How for a moment—for the briefest second— Newt felt that twinge of hatred he has never felt before except to those hurting his magical creatures. That moment Credence ever laid a hand on Theseus—

But it all melted as he stared back at her meaningful eyes. "Tina…"

He then saw the baby niffler dangle on her golden locket's chain pull but she didn't seem to mind. It slowly made him smile and gently reach for it and put it in his pocket. Silence fell between them, a kind, mutual silence filled with unexpressed words. Newt finally sighing as Tina looked away, his eyes falling on her more than once that day.

"I'm sorry. I keep forgetting you're worried about your sister too. And now I'm making you worry." He looked down the floor where he thought his eyes belong.

"Don't be." Tina glanced back at him kindly. "It's easy to forget other people when your plate is also full."

"Yours is full." Newt said meaningfully as he held her hand. "But you never did forget."

She smiled. "I'm the Middle Head remember?"

Newt couldn't help smiling.

"I'm glad you've calmed down," she began much seriously, holding his hands too, "We can't do any rescues when you're not level headed, that's not like you, Newt. We need to approach this with a plan—if we are going to find them, we need a solid lead to follow. And if Credence is with Grindelwald that poses a huge risk—are you sure Dumbledore can't come with us?"

Newt nodded as he had never had much motivation to find Credence and Grindelwald before without Dumbledore's prodding. Until now…but the question of how to find them though. He could send letters to international Magizoologists and those that became his friends during his research about his book… letters… Newt paused as something else came to mind. Without warning, he suddenly raised his wand and accioed his blue coat, leaving Tina watching him as he rummaged inside his pockets—

"Newt?"

The younger Scamander pulled out a bunch of letters, sorted it out until he found what he was looking for.

"Dumbledore said he had no leads of Credence's whereabouts…" he told her as she drew near him and they stood with heads together, eyeing the small parchment, "But last night I received this. Dumbledore's message with Credence's supposed location. Now that I think of it, Dumbledore never uses owl for location as it might get intercepted."

Tina's eyes glinted. "They were trying to mislead you."

Newt stared hard at the letter, and then almost quickly, raised his wand to it. "Revelio."

The charm burnt the paper and there on the air of dark smoke hung the mark of the Dark Wizard, Gellert Grindelwald. Tina watched as the Magizoologist flickered his wand and contained it inside a magical circle he used to hold a young girl's obscurial and let it float in the air. There was a determined look in his eyes.

"We follow this to its owner." He replied to her silent question. "I might have to leave Bunty my last will."

No will was strong enough in that deep black. In that domain of regret and sorrow, the battlefield went on despite the mournful wailing and echoes of piteous cries. He had forgotten his name. He had lost all senses, forgotten his purpose as he walked in its swirling darkness, condemned to be faceless, walker amongst the dead.

And he killed more in his wake. Raising his wand, he took them, the soldier, the boy, everyone else until all that was left was to repeat it all over again. Such was the torture of the accursed labyrinth that showed no mercy to both living or dead.

It was sundown when Newt Scamander and Tina Goldstein apparated outside a medieval ruin overlooking the sea. They followed the magic connecting the smoke mark of Grindelwald to this very place. The sky was dull and the breeze of the wind salty in their face as they both looked around, feeling the chill of the afternoon where the sun could not reach any part of the land. An abandoned castle that seemed to date back in the First World War was atop the hill surrounding the archipelago and beneath it perilous cliff of rocks and threatening waves. They stood by the leaden sand, scanning the vicinity warily, both wands out in alert. The place was deserted. Both whispering lumos, the two moved quietly with Tina picking up the rear.

"Where are we?"

"Somewhere north." Newt replied, wand lighting the ground. His heart thumping in anticipation, he strode quickly without wasting time.

"You think it's a good idea not letting the other aurors come? Or even Dumbledore?"

"It's dangerous for Dumbledore to meet Grindelwald at the moment." Newt looked over the sea side and its ominous waters, "And I don't trust the Ministry. They were never after saving anyone exposed in the obscurial or Dark Arts. I wouldn't trust them with Theseus even if it's the last thing I do."

"Are you sure this is it?" she asked, seeing rock formation as they progressed towards the castle. Landing themselves on a grassy field, where stones were scattered in different direction. "Do you think the castle's enchanted?"

Newt stared hard up the castle, and then pointed his wand at it. A golden glow filled the wind, but like a whip it returned at the tip of the Magizoologist's wand with no apparent effect.

"I don't think it's the castle that has enchantments." Newt suddenly whispered, following the whip like glow of his wand crawl down to the ground, on to the grassy floor and that lit the surrounding stones. Tina stood beside him and watched as the field under their feet glowed—revealing an image of spiraling stones that covered the entire land. In no time the two was taken aback at the whole image of an embedded circular pattern with loops from the left, center and right.

"It's a unicursal." Newt whispered, keeping close at Tina as he could feel the magic vibrate under his feet. "A labyrinth. An ancient symbol." He turned to her and saw she was listening to his every word, "The centaurs once believed this can reveal the presence of a cosmic order since it interfaces our material form. Giving beings access to subtler realms of their higher consciousness. I—"

Newt was cut off when Tina tugged his left arm and grabbed hold on his hand. Glancing at her, he saw that she was pointing up at the castle again. Following her eyes, Newt's hold on his wand tightened for there, at the silhouetted form of the castle stood another form in the shadow.

"Credence," Tina whispered with a heavy sigh. Newt shook his head for he can recognize that figure wherever he goes.

"No." he swallowed as he raised his wand, casting light around them, driving away the shadow and revealing the tall man in his black suit, staring at them darkly with unseeing eyes. Tina gasped. Newt clenched his teeth.

Yes. He finally found him.

"My brother."

-TBC-

Chapter Text

*He's an Auror, and a Hugger*

by: Whitegloves

Ha... I'll be busy the whole week! One idea though-

This is one 'crazy' chapter! Tell me it isn't ;D

Enjoy! :o

Chapter 8: The Pact

[Ministèrè Des Affaires Magiques]

Newt was feeling proud of himself the moment he was allowed entrance in the French Ministry of Magic without least bit of suspicion as he wore the face of his famous older brother. Had he done that inside the British Ministry of Magic, he would've been arrested or stunned on the spot without prior warning as everybody knows Theseus Scamander was unlikely to wear strange blue coats and carry around brown suitcases, let alone stride like the way Newt did. Good thing no one knew better in France, and from time to time Newt does benefit from his older brother's attainment. For one thing— Theseus' reputation precedes whichever government he went to that made them accommodating to his presence. He could collapse a whole building and everyone would think he was doing something heroic.

'If he could only see me now.' Newt thought mildly amused at his own success while Tina walked beside him. She didn't look particularly concerned, nor does she looked impressed. She didn't look like she was against his method either—she just looked completely cool about everything. Why was that? Did she think he could pull it off? Or maybe he gets arrested and she'll give him that cold shoulder when both of them sit inside a prison cell. He should probably get cleared with the engagement thing. But whatever was the case, Tina trusting him despite their misunderstanding gave him much confidence needed for this break-in; and her nerve to do unauthorized things when most Aurors would plain question the action made him admire her more. He would never stop getting blown away by her.

Still in disguise, Newt and Tina were able to infiltrate deeper to the large hall of typing pool where everyone was still too busy to notice them. The hall buzzed with news and wherever you look, officials strode in urgency that not one lifted eyes to newcomers. That was when Newt looked up at the second floor and met his brother's eyes. Theseus who was looking down at him with comprehension dawning on his grim face. Newt felt his feet turn cold at the stare he received from his older brother and had to grab Tina by the arm and ran to the corridor—

Oh bugger. It was the golden dragon egg and snatchers all over again.

"I don't suppose you can disapparate on Ministry premises in France, can you?" he asked her as he felt the polyjuice potion wearing off.

"No." she said still sounding cool about everything—maybe she has too much nerve— it was amusing that between the two of them, Newt was the one panicking now when not long ago in New York she was the one who couldn't relax beside him. Things turned quickly after that as the potion wore off and Newt became himself again. Now Tina was looking concerned—an even endearing expression in Newt's point of view because at least now she cared—and then Theseus was behind them calling him sharply with his wand out and Newt just knew he was about to get a scolding. But there was no way he was engaging with his brother when Theseus was seething and Newt in a hurry. It didn't look like his brother was willing to listen any time soon as he had just illegally used his face—even though they were brothers it seemed to be a crime of some sort—at the same time, he didn't think Theseus was in any mood for his excuses. He was a troublemaker as troublemakers are made to be.

Pity.

There was a curse that hit the stacks of boxes and books behind them that literally had Newt freezing on the spot while Tina—Tina blocked the spell. Newt turned around to see objects up in the air, and then his eyes fell on his brother standing opposite him, red in the face with eyes of daggers and ready to split someone in half.

Newt stared, his wand lowering, not sure what to do. Theseus was known for his short temper when it came to his duty—plus the fact that his younger brother had broken hundreds of rules. But what was Newt to do? He won't fight Theseus, Merlin's beard no—but he can't stay long enough to explain—and they were in a hurry—

Then Tina answered his prayers as the American Auror, who didn't seem mostly impressed that an older brother would actually try to harm his younger sibling who was on a quest to save the world— flickered her wand in answer and Theseus who only had eyes for his brother was caught by the counterattack that sent him tied on a chair and spiral down the corridor—

Newt was awestruck. He didn't think anyone could do that—at all— and not to Theseus! Theseus who always won all their duels at home—the younger Scamander could barely contain his glee. Tina was spectacular!

Together they ran as Newt made a silent note to send Theseus a letter telling him he'll be willing to receive any number of howlers without complaints after this was all over and all of them had survived. If that was possible…

[Somewhere in North Sea]

Now, history seemed to repeat itself as once again they found themselves in same situation of wands out and facing opposite each other, the three of them in that haunted land. Only this time felt different as one was quite possessed—one who now meant to harm them without planning to miss his attack that robbed Newt the ability to find humor in the situation. He who would always count on his brother to forgive him in any kind of trouble.

Suddenly feeling that desperation to pull his brother back, to get him back safely on his side. Newt's eyes glinted with determination. He looked up at Theseus who stood there with back on the sinking sun, like a statue standing in the shadows against the light with complete antipathy in his eyes. Like a cold stone. Newt watched him with concern growing. The cold sea breeze swept through them and the remaining sunlight slowly blinking out of the sky like an omen of the darkness about to engulf the world.

"Mr. Scamander…" Tina tried calling when Newt didn't make any movements but there was no reaction from the British Auror. Tension rose further as silence lingered in the air.

"He won't hear you…" Newt suddenly whispered as he gripped his wand, studying Theseus with a pained look, his eyes hardening. "We have to get closer to him. Disarm him… he's possessed now; it doesn't look like he can recognize me anymore."

Tina narrowed her eyes. "I don't like this feeling, Newt." She admitted, "For someone who is cursed, this is too dark."

Newt surveyed his brother with new wonder in his eyes. Dumbledore had said Theseus was under a curse of what nature, Newt could not be sure, but merely looking in his brother's eyes and realizing there was no light there somehow felt nothing alive he's ever seen. Even a scorpion's eyes have more fire. Like an empty soulless shell. Pure nothingness except dread. What evil has Credence and Grindelwald inflicted him?

Theseus made the first step in their direction, Tina reacting quickly as she raised her wand, eyes wavering from the auror to Newt beside her whose eyes were only at his brother. "Newt?"

But the younger Scamander did not reply. Tina shot him a look and saw that he has one of those observant expressions on his face with wand left pointing down the floor. Not even aiming to fight.

"Newt, what are you doing?" she urgently called, watching over Theseus from the corner of her eye— who then disapparated with black smokes—and the fight began as he swooped over them with fires of stunning spells that hit the ground and stones surrounding them. The American Auror raised her wand as she deflected his attacks as the aerial battle commenced but the Magizoologist was still rooted on the spot.

"Newt!" She rounded on him and tried grabbing his hand to lead him in hiding but to her surprise, Newt pulled away and instead grabbed her—and the two disapparated into the air—Theseus persistently followed, attacking them nonstop—it was like a swirl of black clouds mixing together in thin air with red and green jet sparks like fireworks colliding and exploding on their wake.

Before Tina realized it, they solidly apparated on the abandoned castle where Newt pulled her. The castle was old and forgotten with many layers of its floor chunked, walls destroyed and partial roof gone. The darkness did not help and the fact that behind them, the terrifying skilled auror kept sending powerful spells they were deflecting, only to bound around, hitting and shaking the fragile floors. The two had to duck several times as blocks of the bricks exploded up ahead, Tina retaliating when a chance came and jumping out of raining spells to save her neck.

Just as she was preparing for a comeback, she saw Newt with head down behind one of the broken walls, eyes following the black smokes that was his brother. There was concentration there she would only see when Newt was facing his wild beasts. Out of nowhere, he stood up and threw something round in the air— and a round fire lit the entire vicinity.

"Newt!" she called, sliding her back on the wall, "What are you doing?"

For Newt suddenly scampered the other way, following the wayward shadow that would constantly send them curses. Tina had no choice but to battle Theseus and then follow after the Magizoologist, ducking and deflecting his advances, even to her surprise, the whip of smokes that lashed on her feet, sending her down the ground and was nearly exposed to one of Theseus curses if not for Newt unleashing the Swooping Evil to shield her—

The next thing she knew, Newt had sharply pulled her into one of the broken walls and shove her there and knelt before her with his hands on her arms, keeping her still while the Swooping evil distracted the older Scamander.

"Stay here, I've got an idea."

"About time!"

"We'll never win with offensive spells like this against a possessed War Hero. He's got an attention of a mating wampus cat." His humor made Tina gape at him in disbelief.

"Are you really smiling!? Now?" She accused him, gripping on his coat with round eyes.

"It's an all out battle and I can practically use… well…" his wounded smile ended into a press of his lips. "I need to, otherwise I couldn't summon it."

"Summon what?"

But Newt nodded at her, gave her arms a squeeze before running into the open where he was met by several attacking spells again. Tina was fighting the impulse to jump in, seeing as the Newt wasn't actually fighting back except for the Swooping Evil taking defense and Newt dodging all attacks with incredible speed—until he disapparated and the two chased each other in the air, smashing concrete as they go till they dropped down the center of the castle where four broken thrones used to stand but now in ruins. When the exchanged of jet sparks died down, Tina went after them immediately and found the brothers facing each other in a tense duel, Newt in his ruined blue coat while Theseus in his dusty black coat, both their faces forbidding under the fire above their head. Both wands up and measuring each other. The first attack came from Theseus who in the flicker of his wand, raised boulders of rocks from their surrounding with sharp edges pointed at Newt. With a wave, it shot towards the Magizoologist who pointed his wand on the ground and raised the flooring as a wall into circle—crushing the rocks it met in the middle and shaking the entire vicinity.

Breathless, the American auror apparated on the side, eyes searching for the Magizoologist but instead saw the older Scamander. Theseus took notice but before he could react—the Swooping Evil blocked his vision of her and Newt apparated on his other side, summoned all his strength and pointed his wand at his brother shouting—

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A surge of white vapor came out of the tip of his wand, creating a pure, silvery white figure of what appeared to be a gigantic stallion with long, thick bulrush mane with a long horn on its forehead—a unicorn— a divine magical beast so majestic and celestial it brought light to the whole castle and nearly drove out dusk— casting its warmth to those surrounding it and blinding evil as it charged forth like white fire was on its feet—suspending movement from its adversary who stood shell shock on the spot. Then it was gone.

"Expelliarmus!" Tina cried once she's gotten over the comforting feeling left by the charm and caught Theseus' wand on the air. Theseus Scamander still momentarily blinded began to disapparate, but Newt urged the Swooping Evil in his direction—knocking and hurling him off balance on to the floor while Newt tied him a golden like whip from his wand, the same rope he used to capture the Dark Wizard of all time.

Newt ran towards him, saw his brother began to kneel like he felt no pain at all and began to shout incomprehensibly. The Magizoologist slowly approached him and with one last casting spell, he bewitched his brother to fall asleep. Theseus' whole body slumped forward, his head drooping but Newt was there to catch him, arms wrapping around his brother's cold and thin body. Newt pursed his lips as he held him, eyes watering. His brother has lost a lot of weight…

Tina emerged from the boulders carrying Theseus' wand and her own. Her eyes fell on Newt who had his head bowed his head on his brother's shoulder. With a smile, she knew his relief as she would give anything to hold her own sister now.

"He's alright." She said slowing her pace.

"I got him." Newt nodded when they caught each other's eyes.

Tina had to wipe a tear that had unconsciously slid on her cheek as she watched the siblings. But before she could step any closer, however, the wind picked up again and came an ominous grumble on the ground with a shake that threatened to collapse the walls—making the two look around in alert. And then a shrill so loud filled their ears, followed by spontaneous smashing and cracking on walls as something invisible hit around. Then up on the air a mass of shadow appeared that swallowed the ball of fire, enveloping them with darkness. Newt raised his wand for light—and the attack then came from everywhere until the surge of dark force came hurtling towards Newt's direction—and there he saw claw-like dark hands in the shape of mass black smoke readily dived towards his brother—these same hands who took him away the last they met—

It surrounded them in a whirl of wind—Newt holding a protective arm around his brother. With a roar, he struck his wand on the ground—creating a surge of lighting from the floor—stopping all tremors and sound—and throwing away the darkness that was Credence. The Obscurus stopped. The mass of smoke disappeared as he took form and Tina with her wand light was able to see properly and found Credence standing at the center of the hall with a dark look on his face, eyes on the Scamander brothers while an exhausted Newt raised his wand, looking determined but was only actually using defensively spells till then.

"Hands off!" he declared with Theseus limp on his arms.

Credence took a step forward.

"Credence!"

The Obscurus stopped and looked on his left, then found the familiar Tina Goldstein looking at him with her bright eyes and pleading expression. Like the last time he saw her there in the underground, calling out to him gently. Credence's eyes flickered and he paused.

"Credence, you know you don't want to do this…" she called again, eyes swimming with tears. This was that little hopeless boy who was beaten unstoppably by a cruel guardian. This was the same boy who was tortured by his uncontrolled magic. This was the same boy who flinched upon her touch… still suffering. Tina shook her head and raised her hands as a show of submission. "We won't hurt you so please, Credence…"

Newt's eyes were fixed on Tina, and then to the boy. He remembered well how she had saved him. She still is…

But then Credence began stepping towards her instead, the smokes emerging from his body slowly slithering towards the American Auror. Tina stood with a start, watching the approaching black fumes tensely as she did not expect this. Newt's mouth dropped open and threw the Swooping Evil towards the smokes—but Credence slammed the creature with a sway of his dark energy on a wall. Newt's eyes rounded.

"Tina!" he shouted frantically, opting to run at her side but couldn't let go of his brother at the same time as the swirl surrounding him were still like claws trying to claim their possession. He waved his wand and drove them away all the while shouting her name. Tina had no way to escape as his dark flare surrounded her. It hovered around her like a spinning ball, cumulating like spider's web, growing fast as it weaved about her. In the end she could only stare at Credence's eyes and still saw the same boy that he was. To Newt's astonishment, Tina slowly put her wand down, her eyes unblinking as it met that of the Obscurus and tried again.

"Credence," she whispered gently as he finally took the final step in front of her, "I'm here to help you…"

"Credence!" Newt too had lowered his wand despite the circling mass about him, "We want to help!"

The Magizoologist waited in suspense, his breath held, not knowing what to do with that panic trampling all over his chest— all he could think of was how to get to her and get the three of them out of here— but everything turned upside down as he saw Credence shook his head in earnest.

"I don't need help." He said quietly that struck both Tina and Newt. "I've got this. I can protect myself now." He raised his wand which she followed with her eyes. Then their eyes meet again and she saw that he was glaring. "No one can hurt me. I can hurt them. I can hurt you too… but I won't."

Tina gaped and didn't react even when Credence raised his hand towards her— and Newt raised from the ground wildly his wand light useless on his hand—

"Tina!"

The auror closed her eyes as darkness enveloped her when she heard a loud crack of someone apparating. Opening her eyes, she saw to her great surprise a tall, blonde woman standing in front of her.

"That's enough." Came the familiar voice of Queenie Goldstein with a hint of command barely unrecognizable to her usually demure tone. Tina stared at her sister who stood in between her and Credence, wearing a long black coat, her blonde hair like silver hope, her green eyes stern.

"Queenie…" Tina whispered in astonishment. Newt watched from a far as the smokes subsided, his heart still pounding at what nearly happened while the American auror kept her eyes transfixed at her sister's back who didn't look at her. Queenie was preoccupied with the Obscurus under her care.

"You listen to me, young man," She said firmly, her eyes not leaving Credence, "He wants you back. Now."

The Obscurus gave no reaction except a narrowed look in her direction. Then his eyes jumped back at Tina.

"But you want her." The boy said quietly, leaving the sisters staring at him in surprise. "You were crying."

Tina diverted her eyes at Queenie's back.

"No." Queenie insisted, her beautiful face gracing a frown upon the boy who remained quiet, watching her. She then turned to her sister quickly and whispered, "Go, Teenie. I can take care of him." Before turning back at Credence and taking steps towards him. "We need to go."

Newt watched this unfold in silence, till he heard Tina's tiny voice.

"Newt?"

He caught her eyes and from that exchange, from that look, Newt just knew she was about to do something daring— her eyes shone resolutely back at him—and it stumped him. What is she…?

"Do something about your brother," the auror told him quietly with a nod, then her eyes flashed towards her sister, "And I'll do something with mine." Newt barely had the time to call her back when Tina Goldstein jumped forward, grabbed her sister by the hem of her long cloak as she and Credence disapparated on the spot— and were gone.

Leaving Newt blinking at the spot she disappeared to with his unconscious brother in the darkness of the night.

Albus Dumbledore stood by the open terrace of the Astronomy tower with his arms crossed on his chest, leaning on the stone wall and staring far ahead on to the blinking lights of the wizarding village of Hogsmeade. The night sky was clear with the stars out like white tiny dots above their heads and the wind cool on his face but he didn't mind. The Astronomy tower was one of the quietest place in the school and one with the best view of the land. In there, Dumbledore stood pensively, watching over the village with a lost look in his eyes. The school's protection shield has been doubled after that morning's attack. Additional guards had been placed on the gates and grounds of the school and students had been assured of their safety, though most were only too eager to join any battle, Dumbledore didn't think it appropriate at the moment, but knew a time would come that they would be called for they are the school's ultimate defense. But for now, let them sleep in peace. There were many things he had on his mind that the word worry doesn't even begin to describe. But he stood there, eyes on the lights of the village wondering…

After what seemed like eternity of silence, something caught the professor's attention as a sudden light fell from the sky onto the perimeters of the school. Dumbledore inclined his head curiously as he stood straight, then his eyes widened as he saw a spark of light sent to the sky, creating a misty image of a phoenix. Knowing that he was urgently summoned, Dumbledore hastened to the grounds— there were few people who knew of this symbol and if one of them was urgently in need of him he had to be there.

He was nearly by the castle's entrance when he was met by a group of people, one of which was Newt Scamander being led by two of the four aurors assigned at the gates with wands out while between them a stretcher floated and on it was the Magizoologist's brother. Dumbledore met them halfway, took one look at Newt's worse appearance as he stood there, injured pale, and dazed—but his eyes immediately fell on the man in the stretcher who was in far worst position. He quickly reached for Theseus to check his condition.

"He's alive…" Newt's voice was hoarse as Dumbledore assessed the damaged, pulling on the auror's collar to see his neck with his frown deepening. The black marks were clear as ink that burned bright on Theseus' pale skin. "You told me to bring him to you…" he heard Newt continued and had to look up to see him look helplessly at his older brother. Dumbledore could only sympathize for he had known Newt for many years now—the young, ever enthusiastic Magizoologist who had never feared or worry about anything—who had always been positive every step of the way and minded not the danger or the physical pain as he wrestled and ran wildly with different magical beasts now reduced to this defeated form.

But then Albus Dumbledore understood. People get vulnerable when it comes to their family after all.

"Bring him up."

"Dumbledore, what is happening now—?" came a cry from behind belonging to Professor McGonagall who followed the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher from the Great Hall looking stricken. Upon seeing the stretcher and Newt, she was quickly filled with concern, "Scamander? And this—" she gasped on seeing Theseus.

"Professor McGonagall, we'll head to the Hospital Wing, I believe it is empty. Please call Professor Slughorn to join us there." Dumbledore asked her and one exchange from them had her nodding without question and flying to the stairs. Newt then watched his brother lead up the familiar path of Hogwarts castle without moving on the spot. He was immediately noticed by the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who remained behind with an understanding look in his eyes.

"Newt…"

"Will he be okay?" Newt croaked quietly, looking up with eyes full of uncertainty. "You told me to bring him to you… Have I done enough? What else can I do—? Tina's gone—" he abruptly stopped after that.

Dumbledore walked towards the younger Scamander and clasped his shoulder. "We have to see what kind of curse it is first—and yes, you've done great. Calm down now, Newt—and Tina? Porpentina Goldstein? What happened?" Briefly, the Magizoologist explained what transpired after Credence appeared with some difficulties. The professor listened as he quietly ushered the numb Magizoologist up the hospital wing for unknown to Newt, he didn't come out of the battle unscathed. Long lines of gashes were on his arm, under his eyes and his right hand was bleeding. But he didn't seem aware of his own injuries. Something else was aching within him that cannot be seen.

"I see," the Professor said as they climbed the staircases to the corridor leading to the Hospital Wing, "she made a choice, Newt. To follow something important to her. You couldn't have done anything to stop her." Newt watched as the school nurse met them and hovered towards the patient and made a fuss. Dumbledore watched her too, before looking down at his former student. "You have to focus now, and have to learn to trust her. Now have yourself looked at. Your brother needs you."

Newt nodded as he wiped his eyes, and followed Dumbledore to his brother's bed, hoping of all hope that Tina was going to be alright, especially with Queenie beside her.

Queenie apparated at the balcony of the castle that overlooked the mountains blanketed with white snow in the morning but now mere outline of shadows in the night. Isolation of the place kept everything still with the protection charm all over the castle no one could find except its inhabitants. Not exactly a home, and never will really feel like one but Queenie was comforted by the fact that she could go someplace where she could hide, especially with an Obscurus in tow. She had Credence in front of her with a brooding look on his otherwise handsome face. But despite being used to it, having the Obscurus' power near her still made her cringe and uncomfortable. His disturbing memories were always scattered about and his emotions like a volcano erupting when not in check and if she hadn't been truly focused on finding him she wouldn't have been in time to catch him just about to devour her sister—

Where is this? —a thought came gliding in the air of her thoughts that sounded like—Queenie froze and snapped a look behind her.

Tina in her dark coat and messy hair, stood behind her, ogling at the castle with her round eyes that fell to her sister.

"What are you doing here!?"

The Hospital Wing that night was free of students and it was how Newt Scamander remembered it the last time he walked inside it years ago. The windows that surrounded the hall more than walls were all curtained, the lamps on each side were dimly lit with portraits of hospitalized witch and wizards dozing off in their beds. The curtained racks dividing each bed were all pushed aside as lines and lines of bed occupied the entire floor, all empty except two.

At the farthest corner of the hall two beds were occupied by the Scamanders. Newt sat at the edge of his bed opposite that of his brother where three professors and one Head Nurse was attending to his unconscious form. Theseus' bed was inside a magical shield casted by Dumbledore himself for the protection of the school and at the same time kept the man on the bed asleep. The Magizoologist had removed his upper garment with the assistant nurse working on his patched up shoulder that had been bleeding badly before coming here. Newt didn't care much for his wellbeing as he only had eyes on the people on the other bed. Theseus upper body was unclothed as well and from where Newt could see, dark writings were etched by his chest up to his neck. He tried looking away, but would find his eyes straying back to his older brother every time. Professor Slughorn, a wizard about the age of Dumbledore or younger, known as the Potions Master, blocked him from view and Newt had to stretch his neck far till he was pulled back by the assistant nurse.

"Where have you got all these?" she asked him after cleansing the gash on his arm and pointed on the numerous scars on his body extending to his back and many sizes. Newt didn't answer but kept his eyes on the ground. "Why d'you boys take your bodies for granted?" she went on briskly as she shoved a medicine on Newt's hands, "You think you can accomplish anything if your body's no better than a beaten bludger? At least a bludger's sturdier."

The younger Scamander pressed his lips and then found his eyes on the other bed again. When she was done, Newt pulled on his white shirt and was half buttoning it when he heard Professor McGonagall gasp in the air. He was beside them in no time, his eyes scanning everything on view with Dumbledore with his wand out pressing on Theseus' chest to the ranging black writings now forming on his body down to his abdomen, to his shoulders and arms.

"Ancient runes?" Professor McGonagall whispered as the black writings burned bright.

"A spell casted in Ancient Runes dark magic…" Professor Slughorn looked frightened, "that couldn't have been… how is this man alive?"

"What is it?" Newt asked in alarm as he looked from one professor to the other before his eyes fell on the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. "Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore traced the writing on the older Scamander's arms, his face grim. "I was mistaken, Newt. I have seen these marks before on the walls of a fortress. But I never thought he would use it in such a curse…"

"What?" Newt cried urgently. "What kind of curse is it?"

Dumbledore glanced at him looking serious, "You said you subdued him using a Patronus charm? Why did you use a Patronus charm?"

Newt stared at those bright blue eyes, trying to identify where he was coming from. "It's harmless to him and everything was dark and cold—"

"As if you'll never be happy again…?" suggested Professor Slughorn with awe on his face. Newt stared at him.

"Your ability to observe your target is outstanding, Newt." Dumbledore delivered with eyes on the ancient writings, "Your years of experience as Magizoologist has only perfected your instincts."

"What are you talking about, what's wrong with my brother?" Newt felt like he was pulling endlessly on a string.

"The nature of the curse, Scamander," Professor McGonagall pressed with alarm, "is that of a Dementor's."

Newt ogled at her thunderstruck while she turned at Dumbledore beside her, "But I've never seen anything so complex—and Dementors are not created by spells. I believe they are—"

"Byproduct of wizarding world's despair." The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher went on looking forbidding, "But it is true that no one can create a dementor. They are sentient being. The essence of a Dementor is to live off a wizard's hopelessness and despair as they multiply in the darkness. So no, Professor McGonagall, I don't think it meant to turn him into one but rather…" his voice trailed off.

"But how could Grindelwald—?" Professor Slughorn started again but Dumbledore seemed to be ahead of them.

"Grindelwald has always been fascinated with Dementors…" his eyes glinted in the dark as if seeing others could not, "He went there during his travels abroad. In Azkaban. There's a reason why the Ministry chose the island as its prison ground and that's because it is a home to the Dementors. They have been there long before it was discovered. Infested it. It was believed to have belonged to an insane powerful and extremely dark wizard who practiced the worst kinds of Dark Arts*."

"Ekrizdis." Professor McGonagall whispered with dawning horror on her thin face. Dumbledore nodded.

"I once went there to visit… and saw some of the writings. Grindelwald must have learned something from there and used it as an anchor. He's always been creative." He didn't look impressed but rather grave and severe. Newt didn't understand.

"But that is very…" Professor Slughorn gulped, his face hollowed, "very dark magic indeed. And to use it against a person?" He looked up at Theseus' pale face under the dim light. "But Albus— you said he's being controlled by an Obscurus? Why did Grindelwald have to use a dreadful spell when he could easily use an Imperius curse—"

"My brother's not that easy to control." Newt found himself saying as they turned in his direction while he watched over his older brother, eyes flickering with emotion quietly. "I'm sure he fought him… sure he gave him a hard time."

"I'm afraid in doing so, Grindelwald decided not to cut corners. And that is dangerous." Dumbledore frowned deeply. "It seemed the only way to control Theseus is to dampen his spirits. To taint his soul. If the essence of a dementor is placed on him, then I can be sure it is made to suck him down to his lowest point. To his worst memory he ever lived. I don't think he's in a very good place right now, Newt, and it's not wise to leave him there too long otherwise—"

Newt looked up at the professor in alarm. "What?"

"Merlin's beard…" gulped Professor Slughorn as if understanding, "He's living with a Dementor in his head!"

The school nurse gasped.

"So what will happen?" Newt's voice sliced through the conversation like ice, "What will happen to my brother?"

Their expressions as they turned to him weakened Newt for they looked like people who was ready to tell him to prepare himself. His arms fell limply on his sides, his whole body turning cold. He blinked at them, fighting the impulse to shout as dread washed over his chest. But all they could do was stare at him.

"He is not in a very good place, Newt…" Dumbledore repeated. "We can use the Patronus charm to keep him warm but the battle is in his head and… if he lost his will he would not come out of this the same."

"Then do something!" Newt grabbed Dumbledore by the sleeve and shook him, "Anything! What do we do!? How do we fix him?" he turned to the other professors who looked at each other before exchanging glances with Dumbledore.

"There is always the drought of happiness I can provide," Professor Slughorn offered, "Though its effect doesn't last but that would give you time. And at least make him a little bit happy before he…" he stopped at the glare of Professor McGonagall and Newt who stared at him with ashen face.

"Will he die?" Newt finally whispered numbly. Nobody was able to give him an answer.

Dumbledore was watching the younger Scamander with a quiet look.

"The key is happy thoughts, Newt." He said after a while to the stricken Magizoologist, "You did say you saw your brother emerged from this state when he attacked you awhile back. I believe you are a strong key for your brother so don't leave him. We have to trigger a response—a happy thought still there in his mind. You have to access it. So you have to stay here. Professor McGonagall, please stay with him."

Newt swallowed hard as he blinked at the man.

"But where are you going, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked to which she never received a response.

Inside the Numengard Castle, heels could be heard clip-clopping sharply on the floor. The whole castle was dark, except for the side corridor where the fires would burst to life and then die as someone crossed it in the middle of the night. Looking closely, we then see the Goldstein sisters walking around in haste with the blonde hair looking around every now and then before agitatedly looking behind her to her sister.

"You are one crazy witch Porpentina Goldstein!" Queenie hissed as she pulled her sister by the arm and dragged her to one of the empty passages of the castle, only letting go of her once they were out of anyone's earshot. The blonde witch turned to her sister with tone of restlessness in her voice. Tina was watching her with mild amusement.

"See?" she said with a blink, "You called me 'crazy' and I didn't get angry."

Queenie pressed her red lips, remembering the last time they argued because Jacob, but it was not time for a joke—

"You think this is funny? You're not supposed to come here—it's dangerous—"

"Since when have you spoken to me like you're the Auror?" Tina retorted heatedly, "What's more dangerous than not seeing you, Queenie? Am I supposed to let you go just like that again? Am I supposed to believe my own sister—who can't even resist a dog join the side of one of the vilest, treacherous wizards of all time? Do you have any idea the number of people he's killed? If there's anything to be called crazy here Queenie, that's it. So you're not the one entitled to ask this—what are you doing here!?"

Queenie's face hardened but the biting of her lips expressed her fear. "I came here on my own, okay? I need to accomplish something—"

"And exactly what is that?" Tina pressed on, gesturing her hands in front of her, "Give a hand while Grindelwald murder innocent people?"

"But Jacob and I—"

"This is much bigger than you and Jacob now, Queenie!" the auror whispered, grabbing her sister's wrist, her eyes earnest, "This is about humanity! War or not—Grindelwald does not work to unite—only to dominate! Have you forgotten what happened in New York? He was there clandestinely trying to recruit a child—an Obscurus with power he wished to use! And for what purpose would you use a dark energy but to cause destruction! And what do you think you are to him? Wake up, Queenie!"

Queenie stared at her sister with mouth hanging open. "But he is working for the sake of our kind."

"And what about everyone else?" Tina asked her with her dark eyes round and unwavering. "And if you think this is just about you and Jacob—where do you think he is right now—and after all this where do you think Grindelwald would rather have him?"

"I'll protect him!" Queenie cried, panic stricken as she saw pass her sister's mind to what it is she mean. But Tina only shook her head, finally letting go of her sister's hand.

"Why do you need to protect him if you think Grindelwald is heading the path you wanted?" she said, breathless, "You dream a life with Jacob but do you honestly want to build a family in a world made by a Dark Wizard?"

Silence filled the air. Till Queenie closed her eyes and nodded with tears sliding down her cheeks. Tina doesn't fully understand—under Grindelwald who does not only wish to make Wizards greater, there would be no need to hide. There would be no need to separate them from the nomaj. There would be no rules to divide him from her— no need for their children to hide. They will be free.

"Yes."

Midnight of endless stars on a mountain range with fire burning bright from a bonfire on the ground. Surrounding it was a Stonehenge. The rest was quiet as the fire crackled with mild whisper of the wind. Standing beside it with blue eyes swimming in its brightness was Albus Dumbledore with hands inside his coat pocket and a lost look on his eyes.

And Dumbledore waited. He watched as bits of ashes float in the air and saw the fire blur its side. The Stonehenge was one of a favorite spot of his with its entangling magic underneath its ground. There lies something truly magical made by olden wizards that only his kind could feel. Because magic always leaves a trace. How long has it been since he last travelled the world to venture on, looking for magical artifacts and enchanted places? After all, like Hogwarts, there are really specific locations in the world where magical powers are channeled by the earth.

In deep thoughts, he did not miss his arrival. In blink of an eye, there before him on the other side of the fire stood the Dark Wizard, Gellert Grindelwald with an interested expression on his face as darkness gleamed in his eyes. Dumbledore only blinked once with attention at a former friend.

"I thought you'd never ask." Grindelwald said quietly with both hands behind him, seemingly observing an old friend while Dumbledore held his ground with a severe expression. "Albus."

"Grindelwald." Dumbledore said without any inclination to be on first name basis while the Dark Wizard raised an eyebrow.

"So that's how it's going to be."

"Theseus Scamander." Dumbledore raised his head without ado, "I need you to tell me how to heal him."

Grindelwald transfixed his eyes at the wizard, his eyes glinting malignantly.

"And you think I will help you just because you asked?"

Dumbledore suddenly pulled out his wand that finally caught the attention of the Dark Wizard who straightened. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher twirled it on fingers, with memories rising on his eyes. Silence fell between the two, only broken by Grindelwald's soft laughter.

"You know it is useless. We cannot fight each other."

"I haven't forgotten…" Dumbledore's eyes grew dim, remembering that terrible fight in their house. It was so long ago yet the pain. The pain was supposed to remain as well as his crooked nose. Of his broken family and how Albus could not protect any of them against this man… because of the blood pact that rendered the two of them invincible to the other. He raised his eyes. "But I can always stand against your power be it indirectly and I swear to you I will not hold back if you do not give me what I want."

Grindelwald saw Dumbledore tighten his grip on his wand which made him look up and recognized his resolve. His eyes flickered with interest.

"It has often amused me… of why you are so taken with Newt Scamander." Grindelwald began, "Oh, in this case—the Scamander brothers. You confronting me to save the life of one man when hundreds have died before them. But then I realized—of course. This is closer to home that anyone can imagine. You had always been the sentimental fool when it comes to family. Why, Albus? Do you perhaps see yourself and your own brother in them? Perhaps atone for your mistakes by trying to keep the two together as you and your own brother are so estranged? Should I pay Aberforth a visit?"

A burst of wind came out of nowhere that nearly waved the burning fire away, fascinating Grindelwald till his eyes fell once again to the Hogwarts Professor. There was no change in Dumbledore's expressions, but his electrifying blue eyes were filled with fire. "Don't you come near my family again."

Grindelwald smiled and took his own wand. "But he is your only family. People often wondered why Aberforth has always been overlooked, but isn't that your own doing? Albus? You have plenty of enemies and you never wanted him on the limelight. And how did he repay you? He never spoke to you again."

"You will leave Aberforth of this conversation," Dumbledore warned, "my brother has suffered enough because of us."

"Then you must know you cannot protect him from me forever. When he is the very man I considered a thorn on my side ever since. I would have come for him long ago if you hadn't been so predictable."

"Grindelwald!" the powerful anger on Dumbledore's voice filled the valley that even the Dark Wizard had to narrow his eyes.

"I do not like being threatened." Grindelwald's eyes flickered darkly. "Step down now, we cannot escape the pact. Therefore, an impasse. But if you continue seeking me out like this, Albus, I might be tempted to return the favor. I have nothing to protect, but you— we could have had everything in our hands if you'd only turned a blind eye on that stupid sibling of yours."

Dumbledore hesitated as memories flooded his vision. Of their dreams of the Hallows, neglecting his two siblings in much need of his attention after the death of their mother and arrest of their father. Of how Aberforth put his foot down and confronted Gellert, how his younger, much better brother was subjected to the cruciatus curse by his own best friend—how he, Albus, tried to stop him but no matter how he tried to defend his brother, the blood pact protected Grindelwald from him and him from Grindelwald— their spells bounded each other as how magic with use of blood acts— only Aberforth was defenseless—only he was in danger… And then Ariana…

Grindelwald smiled knowingly as he saw a tear slid down the man's face.

"You fool. That's why you never had what it took to stand with me. You're weak. And as I have often told you—your own family is your downfall."

Dumbledore bowed his head and put a hand on his face because yes, he will forever bear this guilt.

Grindelwald's face was impassive as he felt there was nothing left for him to say. He began to disappear in the wind.

"You cannot help the Scamanders, Dumbledore." The Dark Wizard, his voice that of an echo, "I placed a curse on him powerful enough to drag his soul to the land of the dead where he'd only know darkness. It was meant to make the soul suffer eternally. You cannot relieve him. He is—"

"Azkaban."

Grindelwald paused as half of him remained visible in the air, Dumbledore's bright blue eyes on him.

"Newt was smart enough to figure out the power that plague his brother was the same as that from the Dementors. It's the Dementor's Curse. Subjecting its victim to unending emotion of depression and despair till they're own will slowly die with them. I know of your experiments, Grindelwald… it's not out of your taste to try something you've found on the walls of Azkaban on your travels… but to condemn a man to a binding curse… to something so evil no less…"

The Dark Wizard smiled. "Oh you insufferable man…"

"But you also had to use Credence's power to bind it and make the victim controllable and not just a shell waiting to decay—as well as to raise Theseus' darkness for that man has not a shred of it."

"He is a bit tricky."

"Now tell me how to save him!"

"You cannot." Grindelwald revealed with relish, his form disintegrating in the air, Dumbledore's expression becoming hard, "You cannot reawaken a man so buried in his own darkness. And even if you could you know there's only way to untangle him from its anchor. You know how binding curses work, Dumbledore. There is always only one way to unbind it and that is—"

Dumbledore didn't look too happy with the answer. "Credence has to die."

Grindelwald smiled again. "Albus, I believe you are a family man?"

-TBC-

Chapter Text

*He's an Auror, and a Hugger*

by:  Whitegloves

I believe a roll of tissue has been prepared!

Please feel free to pull on- u ntil you reach the end!

Enjoy!

Chapter 9: The Awakening

Professor McGonagall looked anxious as she quietly crossed the aisle of the Hospital Wing while carrying a piece of parchment in her hands. It was almost dawn at Hogwarts, about time for students to start getting up, get into trouble and wreak havoc in the middle of the day, but still there was no sign of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher anywhere. The parchment was from the Ministry of Magic delivered directly to the Head Master who had summoned her and informed her that whatever Dumbledore was up to, he was on his own when it comes to facing the Ministry so long as the school and its students are not the concern. But the content of the letter was not for Dumbledore but a notice that Ministry officials will be calling at the break of dawn to check on Theseus Scamander. Now McGonagall had to make sure first that the Scamanders are fit for any interview or whatever the Ministry had in mind so off she went in the Hospital Wing where the beds occupied not so long ago by the brothers are now empty.

Ignoring the fact that there was no one there, she went straight to wall at the end of the aisle where a portrait of a stoic nurse sat by a table, endlessly scribbling on her notes. McGonagall stopped in front of the portrait who looked up at her with raised eyebrows. There was a brief exchange before the portrait opened, revealing another secret passage she did not hesitate to enter that lead towards a large private room with no visible window on sight. The walls were white and the room was quite warm and well lit with lamps surrounding the four corners and fireside. The Transfiguration Professor found the bed of Theseus Scamander in the middle with the same enchantments as she had left it with Dumbledore's shield up, and the Patronus of the Head Nurse in a form of a large porcupine sleeping by the patient's chest. The matron herself was on his left side near the roaring fireside, mixing a healing potion using beakers while on the bedside table bottles and vials where standing including the Draught of Happiness from the Potions Master. Professor Slughorn himself was still wide awake, seated on Theseus' right side and was staring intently on the floor. Professor McGonagall was just about to ask him where Newt Scamander was when she noticed that he wasn't on the opposite bed, when her question was answered by loud clanking sounds of bottles from the ground. Following Slughorn's eyes, the Transfiguration teacher was not really that surprised to find the younger Scamander's suit case opened with his extended room visible from her view. She raised eyes at Slughorn questioningly but the Potions Master merely shrugged.

Seconds later the loud clanking stopped, followed by loud thumps of feet climbing up and then Newt's tousled brown hair appeared. The Magizoologist immediately stepped out of the suitcase and in an awkward posture of one not wanting to stand close but needed to anyway, he showed something to Slughorn eagerly. The Potions Master stared at the flask on his hand with his eyes widening in amazement.

"Merlin's Beard—is this really a venom from a Swooping Evil?" he asked in awe, taking the flask containing bright blue hue from Newt who shifted on his feet, eyes transfixed at the man's shoulder, his lips pressed as he nodded quietly. Slughorn could barely remove his eyes from the bluish venom. "But this is quite expensi—I mean— this cannot be extracted easily and must be done— "

"With extra precaution." Newt finished, still shifting from one feet to another with an unusual Bowtruckle clinging on his neck, "Otherwise its original strong obliviatory properties might potentially harm the extractor or anything it can get in contact with and erase everything. But if diluted properly it can also—" his bright eyes flew towards his brother's bed, "remove bad memories."

The Head nurse sighed as she also looked at the flask with a hint of disapproval. "That would be my last solution, if you ask me."

"At least we have one." Newt told her but not harshly.

"What is going on?" Professor McGonagall finally stepped in beside the Magizoologist who bowed his head and avoided any eye contact, "Am I reading this correctly?" she looked from Newt to Slughorn then the Matron before looking back at the younger Scamander, "You plan to make use of a venom to remove—"

"Bad memories, only." Newt licked his lips as turned to his previous Professor as well, "If my brother is suffering from depressing memories created in loop by Dementor's curse—if it gets stronger as it sucks out his worst memories then lifting the bad memories would render it ineffective—"

"At the same time remove the soul that is Theseus Scamander." Professor McGonagall's thin eyebrows rose up to her hairline while Newt stood there with jaw clenching. He was afraid someone would say that. "Memories make a person, whole, Mr. Scamander, and Theseus being a hero of the first world war, a brave Auror and your big brother no less, was never spared of bad memories. But instead of making excuses, he used them as his stepping stones to come at the top that made him a great man. Removing those which made him what he is now isn't only considered felon but a betrayal to his dignity, Newt Scamander. I thought you knew better than that."

Newt swallowed hard, his eyes transfixed at the foot of the bed. Even Pickett felt her intensity and had to hide down behind Newt's collar. Slughorn put the flask down the table but never let his hands off. It was obvious the plan did not get a favorable response from the general audience, especially the Healer who seemed ready to stun anyone who would dare come close to her patient. But just as McGonagall was about to turn back to her real purpose of coming here, a small voice spoke out again. It was Newt.

"But I'm losing my brother, see…" Newt shifted again, his eyes darting slowly from the bed to the Transfiguration Professor who was watching him, "Between betraying him and watching him die… I'd rather have him alive and safe. I'll keep him safe."

Silence fell in the room with only the crackling fire to be heard.

Professor McGonagall then went close to the younger Scamander with full understanding behind her eyes as she put a gentle hand on his shoulder while Newt kept his eyes on the floor, the tension on his ever shifting body an evident display of his restlessness.

"Desperate situation calls for desperate measures, that may be true, Scamander but if we can avoid it then we shall. Your devotion is well valued but it is a little hasty and the consequences would not back fire at you but at your brother. I do not believe you want to subject him in anything he'll regret for the rest of his life, do you?" she waited patiently for Newt to nod his pale face. He did. McGonagall pressed her thin lips too and had Newt looked up, he would have seen the earnest concern on her face as she looked at him from head to foot. "You look tired, Scamander, that won't do. You should rest first, especially with the Ministry coming over—"

"Ministry?" Newt's dead eyes came to life as everyone else looked up at her, "They're coming? What for?"

"They have received reports that Theseus Scamander was found. I suppose the aurors notified them. It is likely they will try to get him transferred to St. Mungo's if they see him like this."

"But if anything goes wrong and Theseus wakes up—" the Magizoologist's eyes were full of alarm, "they'll attack him—they'll kill him!" Because those are wizards who are afraid of an Obscurial… they will never understand.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves—"

"Professor Dumbledore—"

"—has not returned the entire night." Professor McGonagall lifted an eyebrow at Newt's dismayed face, "You are not listening, Scamander. I said 'They will try'. I didn't say they can succeed. I have orders from Dumbledore that you two must remain here. And remain here you will."

Newt stared at the Transfiguration teacher in wonder and gratitude as she was still on their side—or in this case, in Dumbledore's. Students often admire Professor McGonagall for her firm resolved and icy impartiality to all students but one thing she was known for was her loyalty. McGonagall quietly turned to Professor Slughorn who was in act of pocketing the Swooping evil venom. It made her sigh.

"Do let go of the flask, Horace, before it develops its own feet and poke your eyes out— stop holding on to it like it's the elixir of life, dear man. Now, you must stand guard on the Scamanders and help in covering the fact that he is cursed—in fact, I would appreciate it if you support me when I told them it is something the Hospital Wing can take care of. I believe they are sending one of the new Healers too—you are quite familiar with Abbott? I hope you can use your connections to convince them we can handle this."

Slughorn stared at her with mouth slightly open, but he nodded all the same.

"Now, Scamander—" she turned to Newt but was surprised to find him staring at her intently like she was some magical beast he found fascinating. "Scamander?"

"I have to go to Professor Dumbledore's office."

"He's not there—"

"Please look after my brother!" Newt raced towards the door without waiting for a reply as she called after him. Before he knew it, he was on to the passageway and out of the portrait door and was running along the familiar corridor towards his former Professor's office that had been one of the best places during his school life. Dumbledore must take credit for Newt liking the school as well for he was one of Newt's sanctuary every time he felt lonely or unfit anywhere else. He still dreams of running around towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts room every now and then.

So feeling like that student once more who was excited to attend one of his favorite classes, except this time his purpose was of self-interest, Newt rushed to Dumbledore's room, to his office where he knew the great wizard of his time would keep that important note somewhere—an important information—a connection that may just be Theseus' saving grace. A note that may just lead him back to one of Dumbledore's old acquaintances who despite his age was well and kicking—someone who was familiar to him as well as they have worked together at one point, someone who was in possession so as the rumors say of the one and true elixir of life—

Newt threw the door of Dumbledore's office open and went straight for his table with wand out as he murmured lumos. The room was as he remembered it with stacks of books arrange on the shelves everywhere, open cabinets filled with different kinds of small magical creatures whizzing or dozing, and then empty cages by the ceiling. Papers were stacked in order on desks by the wall and on Dumbledore's main table were parchments and books he had been in the process of reading and then his dark gloves. Newt reached for it even though he knew it would be empty now. He then looked everywhere and reached everywhere he could find. Dumbledore wouldn't mind him ransacking his office, their relationship has surpassed trespassing and sending one's student to dangerous missions. He rounded behind the professor's desk and began sorting on his letters, eager to find that one name that would lead him back, because such a man of greatness was always concealed and could only be found when he wanted to—

Flamel… Nicolas Flamel…

He was occupied with reading for the name when he heard a rattling noise on one of the professor's drawers. Quite surprised, Newt ignored it as he turned on the other drawer to look for more papers but was startled when something huge and dark jump out of it like a sneaky niffler out to prowl. Newt realized what it was before it landed on the floor as he had plenty of it to last him a lifetime—a boggart. Cursing himself for finding an interruption now among every other time, he pointed his wand to deal with the silly creature—only to freeze on the spot as his eyes fell on the form that boggart has taken—

There was a dead Theseus on the floor.

Newt's eyes rounded and for a moment he thought his heart forgot to beat. Of course, he realized that this was all the creature's nature, but still seeing what he has been dreading the entire day still made him feel numb in fear. Theseus there was gray and dead. But it was not real. Plain stoic but his flickering eyes showing more than his face would, he pointed his wand and croaked— "Riddikulus!"

The boggart cracked—and then turned to a dead Tina Goldstein.

Newt gritted his teeth as this reminded him of his concern for her safety, his guilt that he was unable to get and save her, and the anger deep within him for letting her go on her own when she could be facing Grindelwald now— "Riddikulus!"

Another crack—yet it seemed he forgot to think of something cheerful as there it was again, another form of Theseus. But this one was quite alive and with eyes that would haunt Newt to his sleep. The Boggart Theseus was kneeling on the floor with his beaten body, one hand supporting his shoulder while his other hand was raised towards the younger Scamander seemingly asking for help—

Newt's fist closed tightly as if he could hear Theseus calling for him because yes, this was how he imagined his brother to be now. All alone, suffering in silence in his head because he couldn't go there. No one could. He had been feeling helpless ever since they came at Hogwarts. How could he save his brother when it was his memories that was making him suffer? When was the last time he spoke to the real Theseus…? The thought came bounding in his consciousness. He did remember the time with the kelpie, the time his brother came and saved that lady… they argued after that. They always end up arguing when they were together, about dinners, about career, about behavior… Leta… but what struck Newt afterwards was his unfair accusations of his brother that had Theseus leaving with quite a load on his shoulders more than he deserved. Newt realized he had been staring at the Boggart Theseus' dead eyes and was silently apologizing.

No. He must say this to the real one whom he will save no matter what. A flash of his brother smiling at him came to mind and that stupid ruffling of hair he used to do. Newt pointed his wand one last time— "Riddikulus."

The boggart exploded.

He stood there for a few seconds, till he felt his knees buckle and he had to lean on the table for support. Dropping his wand on the table with his fingers unable to grasp it properly, Newt closed his eyes and pressed a hand on his face. And in that dark, silent room, Newt Scamander allowed himself to weep.

It was the Bowtruckle who came out of hiding and jumped to his shoulder. From there, Pickett ogled at him and raised its tiny hands on his cheek to comfort him.

It was already daylight when Newt came out of the office with gloomy eyes as he marched back to the Hospital Wing. There was nothing he could find in Dumbledore's office and he didn't want to stay another second after his encounter with the boggart. So there, he walked pass the Great Hall where he could hear sounds of utensils and students eating and chattering away, unmindful of his own growling stomach and pale features. He just wanted to get back in Theseus' room and stay there until Dumbledore shows up.

But just as he stepped in the Hospital Wing, he knew something was wrong. The nurse in the portrait was no longer scribbling away but was on her feet and staring at the back of the portrait as if seeing something others could not and was making her concerned. Newt quickly ran towards her, she recognized him and opened the portrait where he ran inside and saw to his alarm, the shield in which Theseus was held had black smokes filling the air with his brother writhing in pain at his invisible assailant. Beside the shield, the matron was trying her best to conjure a corporal Patronus, which she managed in another second but it seemed it was not enough to keep the nightmares away. Theseus body was rigid but it was twisting and jerking uncontrollably, the perspiration accumulating on his face was an evidence of his agony. Helpless, Newt nearly jumped inside the shield to hold him down if not for the matron stopping him—

"Patronus—boy! Have your Patronus help!"

"Expecto Patronum!" but nothing happened. Clearing his thoughts as his heart was heavy as it is, the Magizoologist tried again—this time with one thing in mind—that he can help his brother. "Expecto Patronum!"

The magnificent unicorn jumped out and rounded around the shield, driving away the dark smokes with its power and then settling down by the older Scamander's head. Newt heaved a sigh with own cold sweat on his face as he slowly walked towards the edge of the bed to observe his brother. Theseus had stopped thrashing around but his expression was still full of discomfort.

"What happened?" Newt turned slowly to the Head nurse who kept her wand steady. She turned to him with a sigh.

"The Professors went to deal with the ministry men while you were gone. I was checking on his vitals when he suddenly started getting violent—I believe whatever's happening on his head is tormenting him enough to reach his unconscious body. It must be awful to suffer so much." She paused with a frown on her face as she stared at Theseus' face. Newt pulled his eyes back to his brother too blankly.

"Why can't we just use the venom?" he whispered, stepping close to his brother's shoulder and dropping himself on the chair with both arms on the bed, one hand holding his wand for the Patronus. "At least stop his suffering…?"

"If there is no other way then we might just use your option."

Newt threw her a look, and then sighed as he buried his head on his arms. "Professor McGonagall's right. It's too risky."

The Head nurse agreed with a sympathetic look at the younger Scamander who had dropped his head on his arms looking exhausted, "One should never tamper with memories, the mind is a complex thing, Mr. Scamander, especially when a curse is connected. He will never be the same. As muggles have it… cure is sometimes worse than the disease." Silence filled the room for a while, and then she spoke again. "It is clear the reason for his torment is caused by memories, that is true. But you heard Professor Dumbledore as well, one hope for him is to remember any good memory—any at all— that may reduce the hold of the curse. We should be working on that first rather than obliterate his whole memory. Dumbledore did say you could be a key for this. We can try."

Newt looked up at her with tired eyes. "What do you want me to do?"

Without another word, she rounded the bed towards him and before Newt could say anything, she let her Patronus disappear since the unicorn's charm was strong to point her wand in his forehead. She blinked at him as he sat straight.

"Well? Are you going to give me one good memory you and your brother shared or not?"

Newt blinked back in understanding and then looked down at his brother. Good memory of Theseus? He grew up with this man who was always there when he needed someone whenever he was alone. Newt maybe different than other children but his big brother had never made him feel anything but family. Whenever their mother would scold him, it was Theseus who was there to make him smile. Whenever they had arguments over trifle matters, it was always Theseus to come around and pull him out of the hole he's created for himself. Whenever others do not understand his actions and laugh at his strangeness, it was Theseus whom he found sitting beside him, laughing at them for all being the same. Theseus never taught him anger or resentment towards other people for doing harmful things. His open mindedness enabled Newt to understand how to look at the world without losing the high road, and that people do things for different reasons. It was Theseus' support and protection that lead Newt to ultimately accept his nature to love magical creatures freely. There was never any restraint there despite their difference in ideology about careers. Even during the times that he was working and Newt was at Hogwarts, his older brother's gifts were always mesmerizing other students whenever parcels arrive from the post for it bore things only Newt appreciates. Because Theseus knows him best.

So no. Newt was never alone. There was a twig that sprang up in front of Newt's nose. Looking down, he saw Pickett still ogling at him with its black eyes blinking up at him. The Magizoologist smiled, closed his eyes and gave the matron a memory—one of which was when he was ordered to help in the Ukrainian Iron bellies during the First World War and out of nowhere, his older brother was there, wishing him the best. Theseus also handed him a small box where looking inside he saw not only one but six Bowtruckles all perched on a tree except one.

"What?" he asked, suppressing a chuckle at the unexpected parting gift. Theseus shrugged with hands inside his pockets.

"You realize this is your first actual mission? We don't want you getting caught in the middle of the war, do we? You know Bowtruckles—"

"I know what Bowtruckles do, Theseus, I can practically dissect them." All the Bowtruckles stared at him in horror that Newt had to press his lips. "Of course, it's only a manner of speaking..." He cleared his throat and stared back at his big brother with obvious delight, "But why six?"

"Take it as an extra measure." Theseus winked at him. "Yes, I'm counting your luck here, Newt."

Newt chuckled as he kept the box well, planning to but then silence fell between them, as if both suddenly realizing the meaning of the parting of their ways today was unlike any other they had in their lives. It was more poignant. And dangerous. Newt looked down the floor with pressed lips as this dawned on him too.

"You're also heading—?" the younger Scamander began uncertainly.

"Yes, we're going there now. Should be before day break so we can get advantage." Theseus was calm, even half cheery but Newt knew better that his brother was only assuring him. He quietly nodded and the two exchange looks. Theseus smiled. "You be careful now, you hear? Don't push it too much since you're dealing with—"

"It's just dragons." Newt said pointedly, eyes now on his only sibling. "But you're dealing with much more deadly creatures."

Theseus paused for a moment as the meaning sunk in, but then only managed a smile. "Well, then let's hope I'm deadlier than they are ever going to be. I should be going." He placed a hand on Newt's shoulder who awkwardly stood there, waiting for his brother's embrace, but Theseus only ruffled his head before turning around. Newt blinked on the spot his brother just stood, and then raised his eyes as he saw Theseus walk away.

It was an unpleasant feeling, but he had to turn away too. On to their own path.

The memory ended there. The Head Nurse twirled the tip of her wand to the white string of memory, and then slowly approached Theseus' head. Newt waited expectantly, but just when she pressed the wand on Theseus' temple, the string unhinged from her wand and disappeared like dusts. The Magizoologist stared quietly at her wand while the matron sighed heavily and put her wand down saying,

"I was afraid of this. It's the curse. It won't allow anything in that does not belong there previously. I'm sorry, Scamander, but it would seem that all we can do for now is wait."

Tina had her arms crossed as she stood by the window surrounded by dark walls in the Nurmengard Castle where she could already see the sun rising up from the horizon. From behind her, a hollowed voice spoke that belonged to her sister, pleading her to see reason.

"You have to go now, Teen, please." Queenie was standing behind her looking very stricken indeed, "He will be back any moment now and he's wanted to get you because Credence responds to you! Listen to me, please!" she tried grabbing the older Goldstein by the arm but Tina whirled around and jerked her hand away looking furious.

"Then good so we can have a talk! You forget, I worked under that fake Graves for weeks—he knows me! He knows I always get around when I'm least wanted! Maybe this time I'm the one who gets the best of him—I haven't made him pay for New York yet—"

"Listen to yourself!" Queenie wiped the tears streaming unstoppably on her cheeks, "He's the Dark Wizard—"

"Who right now has my little sister wrapped around his fingers." Tina crossed her arms again, her dark eyes flaring with fire and Newt would have been proud of her for he was right—they were like fire in dark water— "You can't make me cower away from the man who took away my sister be him Dark Wizard or dark pineapple! If anyone's going to listen here, it's you—Queenie! And you know I'm serious!"

The Legilimens user could hear her thoughts loud and clear, which only made her cry even more for Tina was at her most difficult when she was determined—a real Thunderbird that she was.

"Teenie…"

"And what can he do to me anyway that he hasn't done to Newt's brother?" Tina's voice broke as she remembered the pain the younger Scamander had went through all those times his brother was gone, "Do you know how much in pain Newt is right now? Do you even know what Grindelwald has done to those brothers? What he's doing to us?"

Queenie was unable to meet her sister's eyes as she pressed a hand on her eyes, her mascara already wearing off badly. The older Goldstein understood her silence. "Huh… so you know what he did to Theseus Scamander?"

The younger Goldstein looked up in time to see Tina looking at her with obvious dismay and accusation. It hit something painful in her chest— and a hollowed feeling crept up to her that had nothing to do with the castle's innate coldness.

"No—" she began in a strangled tone. Tina shook her head.

"You must've watched it happen and didn't do anything about it, did you?" a fat tear rolled down the auror's right cheeks who wiped it away angrily while Queenie tried to reach a hand towards her.

"Tina—" she could hear everything her sister was going through— all her suppressed emotions of guilt, anger, and pain—there was so much pain in her too. Tina's eyes were red as she stepped away from her younger sister.

"So you can just stand there and watch him murder me—"

"Tina!" Queenie lunged towards her sister as her unspoken words already reached her before Tina could even say it, because she knows that the auror meant it—by lunging, she wrapped her arms on her sister and embraced her tight, crying nonstop because Tina was serious—serious about dying— "Stop it, already, please!"

Tina sniffed, and then embraced her younger sister back. "Let's go home, Queenie… we've always had each other, always… don't just leave me behind like that, what were you thinking?"

The two stayed like that for a moment, before both collected themselves and wiped their tears. In the middle of the tears, sniffing and swollen eyes, Queenie suddenly shook her head that had Tina's face falling again.

"I can't go yet; I can't leave him."

Tina looked at the spot where she could see a boy's shadow by the end of the corridor, intently watching them but staying far all the same. The auror turned to her younger sister and clasped her hand.

"Then I'm not going."

"No, you have to go. You have to help Newt and his brother." Queenie then reached for her golden brooch and pulled it out of her garment. She pressed it down Tina's hand who recognized it because it was the twin of her own locket that she owned. She looked up at Queenie whose beautiful face was a mess with mascara. "Give this to Newt. This is my only way to help—I didn't know what to do when his brother was caught here. I had to stun him even when he was so nice to me, I didn't want him under that curse any more than you did…" she sniffed and blinked her eyes were tears began to fall, "I… tell Newt I'm sorry, okay?"

Tina stared at the brooch, and then at her sister. "Queenie…"

"You have to go to him, Teenie, before it's too late! Or else his brother will die!"

"You have to eat, Scamander. You haven't touched your food and its almost noon."

Newt raised his head from his arms as he sat at the edge of the bed, his worn-out eyes quickly searching his brother's features. It had become a habit of his as he stayed beside Theseus, to see if his brother was having nightmares, and even if he couldn't go there himself, the mere touch of his hand on his forehead seemed to wane his pain even for just a little. Theseus was still under the sleeping charm, and though his expression was far from peaceful and very pallid, his breathing was still easy unlike the previous ones to which the younger Scamander was thankful for. But then like he was electrified, he jumped and sat straight, eyes on the matron.

"Is Dumbledore—?"

She shook her head, "Afraid not. Though, it's not the longest that he hasn't been around. It's Dumbledore, he's probably looking for a better solution than your venom. The Ministry officials have left too so there is no need to concern yourself over them. Why don't you eat and replenish your energy? You simply cannot deal with this when you're all skeleton. It gets your head all muddled."

The Magizoologist stared at the tray of food, then at Theseus who probably hasn't eaten anything since he was cursed. But he owed it to his brother to be prepared during these trying times which means to have an capable body. Oh, his worrying has made him suffered more than twice alright. So quietly, he ate what was on his plate while giving bits to Pickett who had found the best possible place for himself when the coat was not available was Newt's shoulder. When the food was half finished, Newt stopped for he was unconsciously thinking of something since last night. He had been thinking about it—about the extraction of the Obscurial to its host. The last time he did, he managed to separate the obscurial to its host, but the Sudanese girl died regardless. What would be the implication of an Obscurus planted on a wizard anchored in a curse? Would it take the same process of extraction? Would it endanger the life of the wizard?

Before Newt realized it, he was already on his feet and throwing open his suitcase with that determined glint on his eyes. Before he could step any further down the ladder, however, the portrait door opened and in came Professor McGonagall whose eyes fell immediately on him pointedly.

"Scamander, someone is looking for you."

Newt's eyes went from her, then to the tall dark haired girl that came in after her. It was Tina.

"Newt." She whispered, crossing the distance between them while the younger Scamander stared at her with open surprise and other emotions only hidden in his expressive eyes. The last time he saw her, she had thrown herself after her sister without any hesitation or regard to her own safety. That was just like Tina Goldstein. But whether Queenie was behind her finally liberated, or whether she escaped—Newt could just tell it was Tina with her dark, fiery eyes, already anxious to meet him. It was his Tina finally back, no question.

There was an embrace that Newt couldn't remember who initiated, but both responded warmly. Newt was overwhelmed and was a washed with relief from a load he didn't know he carried quite heavily. It was not something that could easily be expressed. She was safe—she was alright, he kept repeating in his mind.

Breaking apart, it was obvious both had plenty of things to say and ask—

"Tina, how did you—?"

"I can explain later—but how's your brother?" she kept her eyes at the older Scamander by the bed, her features worried.

Newt's eyes flickered as he caught her tone. "Why?"

Tina took something from inside her pocket and gave it to the Magizoologist who recognized the golden brooch he had often seen fastened on the younger Goldstein while Tina kept hers as a locket. He looked up at the auror, as if reading her mind, and then slowly opened the brooch.

He gave a small gasp as he saw the content for in it were swirling white memories.

"What—?"

Tina stared at the white, gas like strings and met Newt's eyes. "It's Queenie. She seemed to have encountered Theseus when he was caught by Grindelwald. I'm still not clear what happened between them, all she said was he was nice to her and he didn't want him dead so she stunned him. Probably the moment when she took this. You know my sister's a Legilimens, she knows what Grindelwald was planning—his thoughts must've been so strong at that time so she saved this… I don't know, Newt—" She paused, seeing the thunderstruck look in his eyes as he stared at the brooch again, "I don't know if this is any help—"

Newt kissed her. It was a light brush of their lips that lasted for a second, but Newt did.

"Oh." The Head Nurse chuckled while Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.

Tina and Newt were staring at each other, both shell shocked at the same time. Then both turning scarlet, the Magizoologist dropped his eyes and mumbled on saying, "Thanks—I mean, not the… the you know—I mean thank you for the memory—not—not this memory, but I'm also thankful—of this memory—and that memory…"

He looked up helplessly at her to find that she was smiling already.

When both had agreed to speak of this later, Newt began heading for his brother's bed.

"Wait—" Turning around, he found Tina looking at him quite meaningfully. "Don't… don't you want to look what the memories are about first?" Newt stared at her. She pressed on. "It might be an imposition for me to say so… but you never believed what your brother said, right? About her… about his real feelings when he was not himself? This might… this just might clear things. If my sister did save his cherished memories… then she will be there."

Newt knew exactly what Tina was trying to say that made him look down the contents of the brooch again.

"But we haven't got any Pensieve." He whispered.

At that, Professor McGonagall clear her throat again.

Moments later, we find Tina, Newt and Professor McGonagall inside the empty room of the Head Master which was empty for the time being. The portraits of different Head Masters above their heads were all snoring loudly, or at least, all pretending to be. McGonagall lead them to one of the large cabinets where a shallow stone basin was standing with its clear water and swirling mists of memory. The mirror in front of them made Newt see his own pale reflection while Tina's beautiful dark eyes was staring directly at him. Both were determined together.

"The Head Master has allowed its usage, provided this will aid in solving the current crisis regarding your brother. He understands he at least need to lend a helping hand with Professor Dumbledore out of commission. I'll give you enough time and then we can do something about the memory to help your brother."

Newt nodded at her and watched as she retreated towards the door and then she was gone.

"I'm sorry I had to say that." Tina said behind him as they stared at each other from the mirror. "I just want you to know the truth so it won't hold you back. You were hurt by his words even when you thought it wasn't him talking."

Newt nodded and stared down at the basin, sighing. Quietly, he poured the contents of the brooch on water surface where it whirled around to the bottom. With one look at Tina, he dived his face down the water and felt that sensation of his feet leaving the ground.

The next thing he knew he was standing in the middle of the Ministry of Magic where soon people came buzzing pass him to go in their respective offices without any inclination of his presence in the middle of all the hustle and bustle. Wondering if Theseus would appear soon as this was his memory, he was surprised to see something black and fluffy scuttle on the floor—dodging feet quickly and diving underneath chairs and tables. Newt gasped as he tried following the creature for it was something very familiar to him—what was it doing in this memory?

Not everyone seemed to notice the niffler scampering away—except a young woman with long black hair hurrying after it. Newt's held his breath as he recognized her—he would always recognize her. Leta.

Following her with his eyes, he watched as Leta tried to find the niffler that had disappeared somewhere. The next thing was the niffler sliding towards the open elevator. Newt gritted his teeth as he saw it get away with his instincts wanting nothing but to catch it, but also realizing he couldn't do anything since this was a memory—

Just as the niffler was able to successfully slid inside however, large hands caught it squarely on his palms. Standing up, Newt saw his older brother and sighed in relief. Theseus looks very young and healthy in this memory, give or take, this must've been five years ago. He was wearing his usual suit and tie when he raised the niffler to the level of his eyes as the elevator closed.

"You little bugger…" Theseus muttered, and then gently poked and rubbed the baby niffler on the head that came sniffing the air for it saw the golden chain on his suit and his golden wrist watch. "I turn one second and you scamper about."

"Excuse me?"

Newt watched Leta approach Theseus. Then it dawned to him—this was their first meeting.

The older Scamander turned at her with his smile at the tiny creature slowly disappearing. Finding Leta staring up at him as well, Theseus lowered the baby niffler and pressed his lips, looking inquiringly at her.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

"Um… that niffler." She asked quite realizing how tall he was, "Does it belong to you?"

Theseus turned at the niffler then back at her, "I'm sorry, did it take anything from you?" he raised the baby niffler between them with an apologetic look, "I'm so sorry. It's my brother's. It sneaked inside the parcel he sent me this morning and did nothing but robbed the people in the Auror section. I gave them order not to panic or report anything missing be it spoon, tooth or nose ring. It was quite a fiasco upstairs." He smiled at her while she did the same. "So did it take anything?"

"Yes, my pendant."

Theseus nodded and with a sigh, and then turned the baby upside down. A ring, pendant and several gold coins fell from its pockets to his hand. "You're losing your touch there, little fella." He handed Leta her pendant and stood straight. "I'm sorry about this, I'll let my brother hear an earful."

"I'm sure he'll be quite happy his niffler's got out of the cage for practice. It was never meant to be caged in the first place." Leta kept the pendant in her pocket while Theseus chuckled and nodded.

"You know what—I can imagine him telling me something exactly like that! You sound just like him."

"And you look just like him." Leta stared him in the eye in wonder while he did the same. "I've heard about you a lot from Newt. You're Theseus Scamander."

Theseus blinked, quite taken aback but managing all the same. "You know Newt?"

A sudden sigh, but she smiled as if reminiscing some memory, "We're friends."

A twinkle that wasn't there suddenly appeared on Theseus' blue eyes. "Newt—Newt's friend? He has one? A lady friend?"

"Why do you sound so surprised?" she asked with a giggle as he shook his head with a grin. "He's not that bad. He's the best guy I know from school. Now, just because you're the Theseus Scamander doesn't mean you're any better from my point of view. Newt will always be the best. You're just Newt's brother."

Theseus paused. Then a smile so honest was there before Leta realized what it was and had to blink at the older Scamander's warmth. "You must really like my brother, Newt's friend."

Leta smiled again. "What's not to like?" she asked as a challenge.

It was then that Theseus put the niffler inside his pocket and extended a hand on his new acquaintance.

"Theseus Scamander." He said formally with an irrepressible smile. Leta stared at his hand, and then slowly shook it with hers.

"Leta Lestrange."

Newt watched as the two shook hands with their eyes meeting, and then the whole memory faded. The next thing Newt found himself in was in Diagon Alley. It was easy to identify the buildings forming in the memory with Gringotts ahead, then Ollivanders, followed by Flourish and Blotts and many other obscurities in its surrounding. Then his eyes fell on Theseus almost immediately who came out of the Apothecary shop holding a parcel in his one good hand while his right hand was wrapped in bandaged. Wondering what kind of trouble the auror had come from, Newt followed his brother casually walk around in his suit, looking around the shops casually. He stopped once near the Magical Menagerie where cages of pets were on display. Cramped and noisy, the tall Scamander did not venture on but decided to walk away while Newt followed close behind him. Soon, it was obvious his brother was headed for the Leaky Cauldron with the route he was taking, but no sooner had Newt decided this, he found Theseus stopping on his tracks.

Newt stood next to him and found his brother gawking ahead the head of people. Looking around the same spot, he saw his brother had actually spotted the familiar figure of Leta in the crowd, her in her stylish dress for Leta had always been glamorous no matter what everyone says, with her hair on her shoulder. But something was wrong with Leta and Theseus must've noticed it. Leta was walking ahead but other witches and wizard would follow her with their eyes and whisper behind her back. Newt stared at her with his fists closing. She knew they were whispering behind her, could catch their eyes straying in her direction. It was a common scenario, even in school. To think that Leta would still suffer the fame of her name even at this age made him feel like an idiot for not being there for her. The next thing, Leta had turned, onto one of the darker alleys Newt realized to be Knockturn Alley.

In an instant, Theseus was on the move, as Newt had expected his brother to be involved. The man hurried his pace, went pass those ogling eyes that didn't matter and then stopped just outside the alley. Newt wondered why his older brother had stopped—he nearly pushed him if not for it being a memory—so looking pass Theseus shoulder, Newt found out why.

Leta didn't really go all the way in the alley, but was standing on the corner with her back pressed on the wall, eyes closed. She was mustering her will not to cry, as she had learned in her formative years in Hogwarts. Newt wanted to talk to her, wanted to comfort her, but all of this was all part of memory…

"Hey, Newt's friend. What are you doing here?" Theseus' calm voice resonated even to Newt like a beacon of hope. Leta opened her eyes and shot the owner of the voice a surprised look, only to find the older Scamander smiling at her with his blue eyes dancing in pleasure, "Not planning any mischief are you?" he looked pointedly at Knockturn Alley with one eyebrows raised.

Leta stared at the man with round eyes as she recognized him, before pulling herself together and looking behind her to the empty alley.

"So what if I am?" she asked in a tone of challenge, but she had crossed her arms around her, in obvious defense. "Do you always appear and stand like a guard in places like this, Newt's brother?"

Theseus narrowed his eyes then looked back at her. "Having a brother like mine, you'd understand why I have to keep myself ahead of him and tinker in places unimaginable, Newt's friend."

Leta chuckled. Theseus seemed glad she smiled, and so was Newt. It was then that Theseus slowly raised his uninjured hand in her direction and offered it to her. Leta stared at it quietly, as if uncertain of its meaning, till the older Scamander nodded at her and inclined his head to the outside of Diagon Alley.

"Come, a lady friend of my brother should not be alone in places like this."

Slowly, Newt watched as Leta looked from Theseus to his hand, and then reached her hand to him. And then together the two walked in the streets of Diagon Alley, a unique pair they made that made people stare, but this time no one paid it any heed as both were engaged in conversation so deep that the world didn't seem to matter anymore. Newt watched them go, and then heaved a deep sigh as the memory began to fade again.

He found himself inside what looked like a café with food served, people on bar drinking and others eating on small, circular tables covered with cloths. It was not Leaky Cauldron, but something more proper but still filled with magic. House elves would appear every now and then to clear used tables, carrying trays with them that disappears I thin air. Newt's eyes fell on his brother who was seated in the middle of the room, but he was not alone. Leta was with him.

Newt watched them quietly, watched as they laughed and drink quietly. Once or twice, he thought he heard his name being mentioned and had to shake his head. He always had the notion that they talk about him behind his back, this was a proof of then. But they seemed to be having a great time. Newt's smile disappeared however, when he saw that the people surrounding the two were once again looking in their table and whispering with their neighbors.

The Magizoologist gritted his teeth. When would these people ever stop—?

He wasn't able to finish his thoughts for it seemed that Leta and Theseus became aware of what was going around. Both stopped, especially Leta, whose light smile faded to be replaced by a cheerless look. Newt felt for her. And felt stronger even more when out of the blue, Theseus suddenly banged his hand on the table so loud like a gunshot that rendered the room in total silence. He then he stood up, eyes glaring at the people around, daring anyone to meet him in the eye. Newt stared at his older brother with a smile for he never forgot how short tempered Theseus could be some times. Especially around intolerable situations. The memory faded with Leta smiling at him and holding his hand gratefully. Her eyes were fixed on him.

The next memory was in Theseus' house. It was dark and from what Newt could make out, the two were seated by the fireside with silent, muffled cries. Leta was crying. Theseus was there beside her and was comforting her. Newt didn't want to pry on that one and decided to move on to the next memory. Wherever he went, the two were always together. Especially when he offered her marriage. Then the memory developed further till most of the time Newt was there too, like in the release of his magical book, a memory of Theseus asking him to be his best man over Butterbeer and a drunken Pickett, Leta comforting him because Newt once again did not come over dinner. There were other memories Newt had seen that was also familiar, but the last one he saw was something that he carried until he surfaced back in reality.

Of Theseus standing bereft outside the amphitheater in the dark with himself after successfully saving the city of France from the blue fire. Newt was standing behind his memory version, watched himself struggle to approach his brother, he remembered feeling disoriented too, but the look on his brother's face had blown away all his concern. Theseus needed him, and he will be there for him. Newt then wondered why this was part of the memory since Tina said Queenie saved what she could—the things he cherished. Then it hit him when out of nowhere, he saw himself walk towards Theseus and embraced him tight.

"I've chosen my side."

And from there, Newt could see Theseus' anguished face he had never seen before. Behind this embrace was his brother crying like he would crumble any moment, but he kept himself and looked thankful at the same time. Theseus considered this something to cherish because he realized, he wasn't alone.

Newt stood there and closed his eyes. The next thing he knew he was back on the Head Master's office with Tina waiting for him.

"It will be alright," the Head nurse said as she twirled the memories in her wand, with Newt, Tina and Professor McGonagall watching her. "Since these naturally belonged to him, there should be little resistance. What he is missing are some good memories, those uncorrupted by the spell, whoever saved these memories, you have to thank them."

Newt glanced at Tina who nodded in his direction.

"Now brace yourselves, this will be an ugly sight." The Matron pressed the tip of her wand on Theseus' temple and from there, unlike what happened previously, Newt watched as the memories seeped in his brother's skin till the last string was gone. There was silence that followed this, and then Theseus' body began shaking and his breathing became rapid—Newt pointed his Patronus closer with the porcupine appearing again and settling by the man's head. Soon, the movements began to cease, with his hands still gripping on his blanket and his frown deepening. Just when Newt started worrying that something had gone wrong, he saw his older brother slowly open his eyes.

Newt put his wand down as Tina took over with her own Patronus and went closer to the bed.

"Theseus?" he whispered as the man fully opened his blue eyes with fear striking in his features. Newt saw that something wrong the moment his brother jumped out of the bed, clutching on his blankets with a wild look everywhere—everyone else was stunned by his reaction—like he was pulling himself away from invisible hands pulling him down—down—

"Get away!" Theseus was shouting, unable to see, unable to recognize— till Newt threw his arms around him in a very tight embrace, not letting go even when his older brother was struggling as he might in the weakened body.

"Theseus! It's me! It's me—I got you!" Newt whispered, not letting go no matter how much he thrashed around in his arms, "I got you, it's okay—it's me! I'm here, Theseus!"

Tina had put her hands on her lips, her eyes filled with tears while McGonagall stared in pure bafflement. Newt kept Theseus in his arms, not letting go even when his spasm of attack had stopped. He could feel his brother's chest heaving and pounding against him, could feel his uncertainty of his surrounding as if waking up from hell.

"It's me… I'm here, it's Newt…" Newt went on numbly, his eyes streaming with tears as he buried it on his brother's shoulder who had frozen on his embrace and was only breathing hard.

"Newt?" Theseus whispered hoarsely, his thin hands clamping behind him and it was all Newt could do to stop himself from crying.

-Penultimate-

TBC! (My hearrrrrrrrrrt)

Chapter Text

*He's an Auror, and a Hugger*

by:  Whitegloves

A/N: This is going to be another long read! I hope it won't hurt your eyes!

Take a break too! But I suppose that's impossible xD Believe me, I tried when I reread!

Also, I did soooo many tampering! And a little surprise! This is for everyone who followed this till the end!

P.S I tried wrapping everything like hell xD

Enjoy!

Chapter 10: The Arena

A double decked bus stopped in a corner of a street and a round man in a suit with short black hair stepped out, but before he could fully put his foot on the paved street, he found himself blocked by some random human who was in a hurry to get up.

"Oi, get your large arse outta the way." The man said, brushing pass him as though he was part of the vehicle that had the black-haired round man shooting him looks.

"Yeah, well you think I like squeezing with you when I could have apparated or use a bucket for travel?" he called back but the lorry was already moving and Jacob Kowalski stepped onto the streets of Kennington district in London with a heavy-set frown on his usually amicable face, one hand in the middle of his plump body and the other carrying his brown suit case. "Cheeks." He whispered as he walked around Morganna road.

London was bustling with people from all corners, and true to being Britain, he really found some accents quite troublesome when asking for directions and information about certain people he was looking for. Even with photos, no one could still help him out even when he told them Queenie would positively stand out in the crowd, a beauty that she is, they couldn't have missed her. But in the long run, he realized it was futile to snoop around the non-magic world when they were all so oblivious. He surveyed above the heads of all the no-maj like him and then above the smog above which seemed to be the definition of London, but Jacob didn't believe for one second that it was the weather. He couldn't believe how ignorant they all were of the magic happening around them, but mostly couldn't believe that he was lucky enough not to be one of them anymore thanks to a certain wizard and his very buddy, Newt Scamander.

That reminded Jacob to check on the tag given by Newt where his address was written because as the wizard said, no non-magic would be able to find it as it was filled with enchantments not visible to muggle eyes. That excited Jacob, especially as he remembered he actually couldn't remember how he got in Newt's house in the first place as Queenie transported them there while he was… well, less sober. Jacob looked down his brown suitcase and saw the magical tag given to him. The tag had a written address in color of indigo, '9 Sherrington Square, London' which swirled magically and would change to different magical creatures till it became Newt's signature and then an arrow pointing ahead. That made Jacob smile.

So confident that he would find his way, Jacob strode on the street, heads up to this Sherrington Square he believed to be just around the corner. He wondered if Newt was around as he could not contact him via telephone for there was no such thing in the wizard's house. Magics have different methods, but Jacob still wish they begin using electricity at some point. Then maybe he could have reached any of them during his own travels and told them… well. The man sighed as he turned the corner and avoided the flood of people towards his direction.

And no, he had no news. Not about Queenie. Not Credence or that spiked blond man with his fanatics of purely blood whatever it is called—this fandom overlord seemed to be working in the shadows; not even any news from that little Nakahisa village that he found himself stuck in Dublin where rumored of people disappearing was rampant. It was all over the news. Still, no one in the non-magic seemed to know them, or to care. Seems like his last resort was to rejoin Newt and stick by his side.

Glancing up the street, Jacob spotted red telephone box standing at the corner of a large building wall. Remembering that he hasn't called back home in a while to check on how his bakery was doing since he left, he quickly rummaged in his pocket for a change and stopped in front of the empty telephone box. He counted his coins he had exchange in the market and found enough for an international one. He left his assistants, Jen and Caroline, in charge, but just to be sure he had to call back now before they forget he even existed.

Looking up again aiming to open the door, Jacob froze as the glass door kicked open and someone came out of the box, he could have sworn was empty not a second ago—a man wearing a common Londoner's black suit and tie with a brown case just like he had. The unknown man had a mustache with twirls at both ends and he was looking sharp about in his bowler's hat while holding a long black umbrella. Jacob blinked at him as he stepped aside to make way for the man didn't even look in his direction, like he was part of the ground or invisible to his eyes.

Blinking after him, Jacob stared after him as he was sure the man was a wizard. Still in awe, he wondered how most nomaj would deal with magic things like this. Then again, they probably would not notice anything. That's what Newt said. Most 'Muggles' in his own term doesn't or didn't want to notice anything. But how could they ignore it? Shrug it aside and take it as their eyes playing tricks on them? If he hadn't known Newt and all the crazy stuff the man could do, Jacob would still be hanging around the stranger still impressed. But Jacob had seen much more than just apparition when he was with Newt. Yeah, Newt was different than other wizards. Newt was exciting. The man was living in his own world still quite different from those other wizards he had seen in their neat three-piece suit. Newt was a magic even to the magical world. Newt was better. Like people better. Newt was always better than any other people—wizard or non-wizard that he knew.

Pressing a smile on his face at remembering his buddy, Jacob turned his gaze down and saw something on the floor. It was a photo— a magical moving photo of none other than the very man Jacob had been singing praises just a while ago.

Newt.

His burrows furrowed, he bent down and picked up Newt's blinking picture and stared at it in confusion. Raising his eyes, he could still see the wizard in the coat walking towards the direction of Kennington road. This guy a buddy of Newt then?

Forgetting his own telephone call, Jacob sprinted after the stranger, like how he did with Newt back when they were tracking Tina and found Kama instead. He jogged after the wizard, hoping he wouldn't suddenly disappear like most wizards do and followed him to another corner. Right about that corner he took, Jacob's face fell when he found no trace of the man. He craned his neck in all direction but he only saw the normalcy that was none magic. Frowning, he lowered his eyes at Newt's photo again and then found to his amazement and great surprise that it was pointing to his right. Looking right, Jacob found an old building standing on the corner with dark walls. A cafe if you may strangely called Rivas Gaby. And from the glass window he could see the wizard inside, talking to the bartender surly as he sat by the counter. Jacob did not hesitate to enter the shop, wondering what magic lies inside.

Only to be disappointed as the shop seemed ordinary with people on newspapers, engrossed with their own morning. The shop had nothing extraordinary to be exact with its brown and green walls and small circular chairs. On the wall was a large emblem of a bear with its four corners carved with letters on wood he read as Ruxi, Stigitsune, Jumik and an Elie. Are they supposed to be legends? Pursing his lips, he watched over the heads to the bartender who was as ordinary as the tv above his head. No magic, okay.

But baker that he is, Jacob instantly smelled the whip of fresh bread in the air. He inspected the displays of bread but then had to avoid getting distracted when his eyes fell on his target. Pulling his eyes away from the display of bread, he found himself crossing the tables casually till he was beside the wizard. He stood there innocently for a moment, wondering how to break to the man that he knew he was a wizard. Should he casually tap him and show him Newt's photo? Then again, didn't Newt never trusted people in the suit except his brother? With this coming to mind, Jacob tried to be discreet as he looked over the wizard's shoulder, and saw to his bafflement that this wizard now was holding another photo- but not of Newt- it was a boy with bowl cut hair and gloomy expression and who the wizarding world has been on rampage about—Credence!

What are the odds?! Just when he had given up looking for information, this here happens! Newt would be thrilled and Jacob didn't have to meet him empty handed. So, standing still, Jacob slowly looked at floor where the wizard has his left his own brown suit case.

An idea struck Jacob so brilliantly it made him gulp.

Minutes later, we see the nomaj strode out of the cafe with the address tag of Newt on one hand and a new brown suitcase on the other.

Sounds of laughter and giggles filled the midday air as Tina Goldstein stood by one of the balconies with its arching windows near the Hospital Wing with her hands-on top of the other by the ledge, watching Hogwarts students in black robes fill the quadrangle with their friends and classmates. The weather proved to be bright for these witches and wizards who mingled with their peers, probably all feeling that their worries and woes about school life were the greatest struggle of their lives. She certainly did at that time in Ilvermorny. Then again nothing in life no matter the age was easy. It's just a matter of who you are with in the middle of crisis if it would pan out as a good or bad memory… Queenie certainly made it better.

Why did it feel like it was so long ago?

She heard light footsteps walk towards her and spied Newt's figure from the corner of her eyes. She waited for him to come closer and stand beside her before squinting up and smiling quietly at him. Newt smiled back albeit wearily.

"Enjoying Hogwarts?" he asked as he tried to hide the pain that came with him from the private room.

"Ilvermorny is on par with its enchantments." She said lightly, her concern for him obvious as she ran her eyes from his disheveled brown hair and unwashed face, his askew tie on his open collar and his burnt blue coat that needed fixing but seemed to have been forgotten altogether. "Although I think we would lose to the grandeur of this castle. It's just… impressive."

"I would've wanted Queenie to hear that." The Magizoologist put his hand on the ledge too, eyes falling on the students who all were now scrambling on their feet to get to their next classes. They could hear them shouting excitedly and even heard a student cry, 'Lacie Fuyu come back here this instant! Professor Littwink will see us!"

Newt and Tina glanced at each other with a smile, before his face fell in concern. "How is she?"

Tina swung her eyes away. "She's okay, I guess. Not herself okay, but… she's thriving. And it doesn't look like she's being forced by Grindelwald to do anything she didn't want. She's still herself in that hidden castle. She still wanted me out." She finally had the courage to look him in the eyes, "I'm sorry about your brother… Queenie tried, I'm sure she did. She kind of liked him, I'm sure."

"My brother has a charm of a Veela and has a habit of winning people on his side so don't blame your sister. Actually, real famous half Veela twins Archea and Arcia fell for him." Newt agreed with a light beam on his face, "He's always been like that. I won't be surprised if he tried to take Queenie back."

"My sister's just stubborn like that too." Tina sighed. "She's insisting it's all for Jacob, and I think she's serious, Newt. I know my sister and falling in love… well, let's say she never was like this with Joey, her ex even when she cried after. I can tell she likes Jacob a lot. I mean I do. I should have just told her it's okay to be with him even when he was a nomaj, then maybe…But I didn't have time, she told me your brother's life was in danger. I knew I had to hurry back to you. I'm sorry about her hand in this."

They exchanged glances and Newt gave her a reassuring smile. "She saved my brother's life."

"How's your brother?" she asked softly, seeing his expression turn somber with eyes not quite dry and alive. Newt had been awake the whole day and night from the moment his brother had woken up yesterday from his deep slumber. Theseus had struggled for some time to keep up with what was happening around him until his head began to hurt and was ordered by the matron to rest. But Theseus could not do this on his own and so was sedated again. Since then, the Auror would wake up every now and then, bolting out of bed or shouting when he did as if being hunted by invisible forces from the shadows until he was given a powerful sleeping draught. Newt was always beside him. It was a difficult time. The younger Scamander looked very tired but he didn't seem aware of his own physical condition. He just nodded at her and looked out on to the window too.

"He's just woken up and cared for by the Healers." He said in a low voice. "He just came from a twelve-hour sleep after all his nightmares. The matron said he was just in shock yesterday… from the curse and awful memories. She said it could be some sort of trauma… it couldn't have been a very good experience with the Dementor's curse. And mental damage is one of the most dangerous condition that Healers can't even tamper with. It never was going to be easy recovering from that and there's still the obscurial."

"You tried extracting it, didn't you?"

"It's latched on him so strongly. It's unlike with the little girl I met. It was merge with a curse and unless I want to kill him..." He glanced down on his closed fist by the ledge, to which Tina reached a hand and pressed.

"But he recognizes you?"

Newt nodded, his face pale in the light. "He calls to me from time to time. In his sleep. I hope whatever he sees in there, I'm on his side and not the person who turns his back on him every time." Newt sighed heavily, his guilt obvious at the haunch of his shoulder. He was visibly very shaken and exhausted and with that load on his shoulder, Tina couldn't help biting her lips as her own heart crumbled at seeing the Magizoologist so crestfallen with worry for his sibling. Reaching for him, she wrapped her arms on his neck and put her head on his shoulder.

"It's going to be okay." She whispered, assuring him. "You're there with him. He knows you'll always be there for him. He loves you, Newt, so you don't get to think that he has ill thoughts about you. Trust your brother, okay? It takes time to heal, just don't be hard on yourself."

Newt nodded as she straightened to meet his eyes, her right arm locking on his. "I still want to insist on the Swooping Evil's venom. Let him have his good memories resurface. Just to stop him from suffering."

"You mean the one you used on the nomaj with the Thunderbird—?"

"Yes. Professor McGonagall stopped me back then, but watching him like this…" he paused, and then gave her an appealing look with expressed fear as innocent as a child. "I'm seconds on slipping it on his head, Tina. He's been through enough. Whatever happened in his mind, whatever nightmare he's been having… it's just breaking him."

Tina nodded with a heavy heart and held his hand firm. "Newt, you have to be strong, okay? People don't stay the same with all happy memories in their heads. That's just like dying happily. Or having a false idea of what life is."

Newt stared at her with such fixation but before Tina could open her lips again, someone came from the Hospital Wing—one of the healers came striding towards them with eyes on Newt. She beckoned him to come back.

"He wants to see you."

Newt's eyes flickered, and in the next beat he was running pass her with Tina keeping up the rear.

When Newt entered the portrait passage way, he met the Matron carrying a tray with empty bottles of draught of happiness that Slughorn gave which he fondly called happy konny, some sedatives and other concoctions. Newt looked at her uncertainly, and then to his brother who was sitting on the bed in his fresh clothes on, head on hands, the magic circle still up but no more Patronus around. Alarmed, he looked back at the Head Nurse.

"What happened?"

"He's more clear-headed now than when he first woke up," she assured him, nodding. "Seems to remember bits of everything, and has lots of questions I assumed you can answer. You're the first person he started looking for when he collected his thoughts just now. That should be a good sign." turning to the other Healer, she called, "Come, Abbily, we need to prepare more of this. Where is Tes?" With a glance at Tina, she disappeared towards the passageway with the other Healer.

Newt blinked at the man on the bed, and then slowly approached him while the American auror stayed a step behind till she found a chair by the wall. Newt closed the distance to the bed and was there before his older brother who last night was still tossing and turning in his sleep with that tortured expression. He looked calm now.

"Theseus?" he called with a voice that didn't seem to quite belong to him.

Theseus blinked up with a start, his face gaunt and white with dark circles under his eyes; his blue eyes were wide but no longer wild like last night. His piercing gaze struck Newt with such intensity he couldn't hold, while his older brother looked as if he was in between deciding if this was a real thing and not mere figment of his imagination.

"Newt?" his voice was new to him, deep and croaky like it hadn't been used. He wanted to ask where Newt had come from. Wanted to ask why they were in Hogwarts of all places because that's what the kind matron said. It seemed a good start to connect everything, because it felt like so long ago since he remembered correctly when in his mind, the last thing he felt so real was Leta dying. And pieces of everything else hovering in his mind. "Newton…" he repeated unsure where to go. He felt dry, spent even.

A faraway look fell on Theseus' eyes as Newt stepped closer and stand by the bed. "How are you feeling?"

Theseus didn't answer at once. His blue eyes lingered at something no one else could see. Something inside him was moving, and it was an echo of pain but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Only, his chest felt like something was sitting on it. What was that? He wanted to speak but nothing good comes to mind. It seemed too awful to say the things he was thinking. Were they all real? They seemed to be… he could feel his heart racing as the thoughts came flooding back to him like waves ready to topple him down— what if this was all unreal—and Newt wasn't really—?

With his distress becoming apparent, Theseus suddenly gasped as something prickled his shoulder. Both the Scamander brothers turned with a start at his shoulder where they saw, to Newt's surprise, the Bowtruckle, Pickett, staring at them both oddly with his spike-like arms raised in the air. It whined at them as if making a point.

"You bugger." Newt muttered, taking the Bowtruckle with his hands and holding him up to their eyes, "What are you doing there I thought I told you to stay in my pocket."

Theseus reached for his arm and rubbed the itching part, eyes on the creature. His expression changed drastically after that, as if he was poked back to reality. Why, this was his brother's favorite pet… he nearly forgot how small they were.

"I never thought they could be so aggressive, Bowtruckles." Newt gazed at his brother who was also watching him with a start. "I remember… he was the tiniest one in the box when I gave them to you, Newt." he looked inquiringly at the Magizoologist who blinked as he recognized that flicker returning in Theseus' blue eyes.

And then Newt understood and nodded briefly.

"You've no idea the trouble this one is." He smiled as turned to his tiny friend, "What were you up to, you've been picking on Theseus? I told you no poking, didn't I?" the Bowtruckle answered in the same tone of retort as if doing something for the favor of the Magizoologist. Newt found himself lowering his gaze shamefully as if he had just gotten scolded. "Oh…I'm sorry… thanks."

"Getting scolded by a Bowtruckle… really Newt." Theseus sighed finally, his blue eyes becoming less intense as it fell on the creature exasperatedly while the Newt peered at his brother closely. There was really something in his eyes that Newt recognize now—the warmth and his calm nature. It made Newt stare, and then blink as he felt the huge lump on his throat disappearing.

"Newt?" Theseus called as he noticed his brother's silence, only to find the Magizoologist's anxiously watching him.

"How do you feel?"

"I don't know." Theseus answered honestly as he looked down his numb chest but still saw nothing there. "I feel… I feel like I'm drowning… I still do." He met Newt's eyes but upon seeing his younger brother's-stricken look, Theseus immediately chuckled and shook his head. "But it was just a bad dream. Just a bad dream. But it's all right now." He gave his younger brother a wry smile. "I heard I was cursed?"

Newt's features turned serious. "That doesn't even begin to describe it."

Within the next twenty minutes, Newt filled his brother with everything that had happened ever since he was taken under the curse of Grindelwald. Of the end of the summon, how he worked openly with Grimmson who then came with him when they attacked Hogwarts, seemingly under orders to kill Albus Dumbledore. Theseus was in awe of everything, until he heard the part that he nearly killed his own brother with the Killing Curse—

"I nearly killed you?" he repeated, looking stricken and pale, sitting straight.

"You didn't." Newt assured him firmly, "You stopped… that's what matters. That's why I'm still here."

"Why didn't you defend yourself? You could have taken me out."

Newt stared at his brother in horror, and then shook his head with brows knitted in a frown. "I wasn't the one who was cursed, Theseus. How was I supposed to react against you of all people?"

The auror shut his dark eyes shut and shook his head with vigor nobody expected from such a frail body. "You're a lucky bugger for escaping death like that!" When Newt didn't make any attempt to continue, the older Scamander sighed and turned to him again, "Then tell me—what else happened between us that I should know?"

The Magizoologist stared as his brother and blinked owlishly; it was like Theseus was really returning with his dominating character that made Newt quickly shook his head. A cough from a corner reminded the brother of Tina who was listening at the chair by the wall. Tina was looking at Newt pointedly as if telling him to be honest already, before she stood up headed towards the passageway to give the brothers their privacy. Newt watched her go, before glancing back at his frowning brother.

Theseus was looking severe by this time. "Tell me. If I was under that kind of dark magic like you told me then I would have been very vile, I suppose. What did I tell you?"

"It's nothing important." Newt whispered evasively.

"Then why are you making that face? I know you, Newt. You could never lie to me."

Newt met his eyes, and still hesitated. He had decided back then that he would forget everything that Theseus had said, that it was something dark and sinister created by a dark heart. His brother does not have that heart. And it was pushed back further after seeing his memory. Theseus need not know. But it seemed important to Theseus who had his hand on his chest again.

"What's wrong with your chest, you've been holding it like that?"

"It's nothing, now you better begin talking or I'll hex you." Theseus didn't budge, his eyes darkening as Newt watched his face. So with a sigh, the younger Scamander put both hands together before finally telling him everything that was said the night he went to Theseus' house. The older Scamander listened with his lips slowly thinning and by the end, he was a picture to be hold with his eyes closed and jaw clenched. Silence fell between them for a while, and Newt found the remaining bottles on the side table quite interesting.

Then Theseus spoke first, in a voice controlled and owned by the auror.

"You know none of those are true?"

Newt glanced back at his brother, his mind blank. "I know."

"Leta and I…" Theseus began with a painful clutch on his blanket as in his mind's eye fresh memory of Leta dying flashed in his vision, and the agony of losing her returning and making a claim on his heart. The pain was as fresh as ever. "We… Leta… she loved you, of course she loved you. She cherished you… my brother who was always beside her. She wouldn't have been our Leta if she thought any lesser of us. She loved us both. That's why I love her so much too…" he stopped, just enough time to put into words everything that was still shaping on his mind, "It's not a matter of who she loved first, she was always earnest with her feelings. You shouldn't doubt that Newt, you mustn't think any lesser of her whatever you hear. You know her better than anyone— she wouldn't hurt anyone she loves. Especially you."

"Nor you." And Newt believed that strongly having remembered the memory of Leta watching Theseus with eyes only on him. It was true, Newt and Leta loved each other, but through the course of time they found new people to fall in love with, someone who they both needed to protect this time, not just to rely on. Leta in the memory was in love with Theseus, his older brother must know that. "She loved you… the moment you rescued her from the dark, she's always loved you. And I think it would pain her to see you hurting like this."

Theseus stared him in the eyes and nodded. "I know. And everything that I said were all created by my own spite for failing to protect her. My self-loath isn't about you, Newt. I'm sorry you had to hear how weak I am…"

"Weak, my brother?" Newt suddenly found himself saying with a hint of sharpness that was knew to him, regretting a time he never reached out to his brother because he thought Theseus was doing fine on his own. "You're the bravest person I know; but for whatever it's worth—you have to remember me. You will always have me."

Theseus finally grinned at him, something Newt realized he missed seeing. "Why do you sound so reliable just now?"

"I am reliable. You're just hogging all the position."

Theseus chuckled, his hand unconsciously running to his chest again and clutching there. Newt watched over him in alarm as he saw his brother doubled a cough and gripped on his clothes.

"What is it?"

The older Scamander shook his head with eyes close and Newt saw him pale beneath the light surrounding the room, his fingers digging on his clothes in agony, the dark circles under his eyes looking more forbidding than ever. "Nothing… just a spasm of pain."

The younger Scamander continued looking at him in concern. He did notice how Theseus was still not properly healed and would have told him to rest if it wasn't for the power behind his brother's eyes. Yet, a patient was a patient. "You're not fully recovered yet—"

"This obscurial thing…" Theseus cleared his throat, his eyes opening with a glaze of fortitude. "I don't think his control is that strong now that I'm me… but can it be removed? I remember your mail about that Sudanese girl? Is this the same case? Will I die?"

Newt hesitated, seeing the glint in his brother's eyes and froze. Why does Theseus have that look? The look of a man ready to face his impending doom?

"You're not dying." Newt said aloud, more to himself that surprised the older Scamander. "I won't let that happen."

"Death is inevitable, Newt." Theseus suddenly said with a deep set look in his eyes the Magizoologist didn't like. "And it's not something to be scared about." He smiled sadly and for the first time Newt had a glimpse of the depth his brother had been through in his dreams like it was all there in the anguish in his eyes—of the vast memories of pain and sacrifice and death— as if ready to welcome death in his arms— was it so horrible he'd rather choose death!?

"No. Not you." Newt replied, reaching a hand to his brother's arm. "I can help you—Theseus—"

But Newt had to stop whatever it was he wanted to say about the venom and losing bad memories. At the same time, McGonagall's voice echoed back to him—I do not believe you want to subject him to anything he'll regret for the rest of his life—do you? He stared his brother in the eye who looked back at him quietly, and Newt discovered that he really did fail Theseus for thinking that his brother would even allow it.

Because no… Theseus was no coward like that. Not even to save his own life.

He stared at Theseus questioningly. Then what should I do? How do I save my brother?

"Newt?" Theseus whispered, grasping his brother's hand who stared blankly at him. "What's the matter?"

Newt was overwhelmed by his own inability to express his fear that he failed to notice when the portrait hole opened and in came a visitor most wanted but never known when to appear. Theseus glanced up at him first, then Newt realizing his brother was looking at someone, turned to his right and saw the only remaining hope he had in mind standing there with a grave yet relieve expression at the same time. Albus Dumbledore.

"Theseus," he breathed, blinking several times and sighing, "Thank goodness."

A pitch-black layer appeared in thin air, and then in a beat came Grindelwald on to the balcony of his castle. There was a grim look on his face accompanied with complete apathy. The meeting with an old adversary did not help especially if said man was still the same person reeling in his weakness of failed attempt to reconcile with his family, Grindelwald was in less mood to be tolerant. Yet, the idea that he left an impression on Dumbledore after revealing a secret so tragic made him smile in a twisted way. The look upon them man's face was pure confusion and disbelief which was always Dumbledore's limitation. Yes, that was his problem. Such a weak heart.

He walked the corridors of the castle silent and forbidding when a tickle of magic different from his own that caught his attention. A familiar magic but how come it was scattered about? Something happened, he presumed. He looked over his shoulder as he stopped, and then narrowed his eyes. The whole castle was filled with it. Trembling with it. He looked sharply ahead, and then continued towards the hall curiously where he could hear Queenie Goldstein's voice—

So, she did get her sister?

From the distance, he could hear her voice.

"You have to trust them, they won't use you. Look, Credence, you remember my sister well, right? Do you think she's the type to hurt you? Newt is the same—he won't hurt a hair on your head! And I'm sure he'll forgive you if you just go out there and fix his brother—or maybe just be a good kid.  Like what our grandma Emma Goldstein used to say, always be good in everything you do and the world will follow no matter how slow."

Grindelwald narrowed his eyes. He came out of the shadows to the room where Queenie suddenly fell silent, the look on her face filled with obvious guilt. The Dark Wizard rounded to face her silently, his blue and gray eyes then falling on Credence who was standing at the heart of the room with a glint on his eyes. And it all came to Grindelwald at once—of the presence of the other Goldstein in the castle and of Credence using his power to its full force. He could feel the castle reek of his magic, even feel the tremble still on the walls. But no, it seemed the fight did not happen here—and who was he against? Ahh…. Newt Scamander. Then it struck him. Of course. The reason Dumbledore was desperate.

"Are you not going to tell me we had a visitor, my dear?" he asked Queenie who sat a little straighter with both her hands on her lap, avoiding his gaze at all cause, "Your sister was here."

"She has no control over Credence as you had suggested," Queenie said quickly, finally looking up still looking calm despite the race of her heart, "And my sister… doesn't believe in our cause so… I'd rather let her go. We never force anyone on this side, do we?"

Grindelwald kept an eye at her, and yes, he thought of killing her just now as he slipped his wand to his hand. She had betrayed him and he never was good with disloyalty. And she had served her purpose. Credence now was in control of his power. He didn't need her anymore. But first—

The Dark Wizard turned to the Obscurus and a smile. "You have fought well, my boy. You're even able to control your surmounting power. Are you ready now to face your brother?"

Credence stared at the Dark Wizard and then nodded quietly. Grindelwald's eyes glinted darkly.

"Then kill him. He's near Hogwarts. End this once and for all."

Jacob rapped on Newt's door as he finally found himself in the lane of yellow brick, Victorian town houses and in front of the Magizoologist's house. The tag proved to be very useful as it directed him there, but he had to hurry in as he looked over his shoulder, afraid that he was followed by weird wizards who were all anti-Newt. He rapped and rapped until someone opened the door. It was Bunty.

"Hi." Jacob said rather surprised at his own tone. She remained looking at him suspiciously with her body blocking the doorway so the nomaj realized he had to do better than that. "I'm Jacob—you must be Bunty. Newt's told me about you. Uh, actually no, we haven't met, but I know who you are. Can you let me come in? I don't want my pictures taken by your spying Ministry, see."

Bunty blinked at the man, but then let him in anyway because knowing Newt, he was just one to make friends with the odd sorts. Closing the door behind her, she found the round man hurriedly opening the brown suitcase opening by the kitchen table that looked exactly like Newt's property. But when he opened it, it only revealed several documents of no importance. This seemed to disappoint the man who was expecting something more.

"Tsk." He shook his head, putting his hands on his waist, "Here I was thinking I found something."

Bunty peered curiously at the suitcase, and then gave Jacob the bucket she was holding. Clicking on the correct extension charm, the caretaker opened the suitcase again and there appeared before the two of them were pictures and files of not only Newt, but Credence as well. Jacob's eyes widened at the contents and had to look at Bunty.

"Where's Newt?"

Minutes after calming down and reading most of the contents, the nomaj sighed and shook his head.

"Is Newt really that of an outlaw?" Jacob asked as he held two photos of Newt from different angle the Magizoologist wasn't looking directly at while all other photos of Credence, were piled up and pinned on the side of the open suitcase together with their file cases and even Newt's copied passport. The nomaj and Bunty were both huddled together in front of the brown suitcase with expressions of disbelief and concern as Newt blinked up and down from the photos in all direction. "I mean, I knew he was bending quite a few rules but it has always worked out for everybody. He got Grindelwald in New York and instead they banned him from travelling. Why isn't anyone just award him some sort of medal instead of making him look like a criminal."

"That is the obscurus, isn't it?" Bunty pointed out at Credence's file, all out ignoring Jacob as she ogled at the photos too, but her eyes would dart back to Newt's pictures. "The Ministry has been tracking him and those are the places he had been last sighted in Europe. He's nearer than we expected." She stepped close to the suitcase and picked up a photo of the Magizoologist. "I think Newt should know about this."

"Well, if you can swish us both to where ever he is, I'm all in." Jacob dropped the photo and put both hands on his suit, as if expecting he'd be apparating on the spot. Then he frowned as he remembered something and turned at Bunty who was selecting photos of Newt from the case. "Where is he, anyway?"

"He's at Hogwarts. I heard the castle was attacked."

"Hogwarts? Oh, the school? What d' you mean attack?"

"I don't know exactly, but Newt's brother's been terribly injured and he's been looking after him."

Jacob's mouth fell and then nodded, "Okay, I have to go there, to Newt. Uhh… Hogwarts… Funny I went there once and all I see is this ruin and everyone just starts disappearing in this bridge." Jacob's thick brows furrowed. "Newt said it was all the magic against like us 'muggle'… but I suppose this time I can see it since I've been there before. Are we going?" he turned up again to see the caretaker stacking the photos inside her pocket. She looked up with a start and stopped what she was doing.

"What? Hogwarts? Oh no, I'm not going." She shook her head as she slipped one last photo in her pocket. "I have to take care of everyone here. We've been attacked once by the obscurus and they've all been very nervous, the shelphy even got itself wounded. I can't leave them. Newt wouldn't want them alone."

Jacob stared at her with mouth hanging open. "So how am I supposed to go there? Broomstick?"

"Do you know how?"

"I—I hope?" as long as it wasn't flying with dragons it was fine but his uncertainty made her study him. And then the next thing she strode towards the fireplace, took a bowl of greyish powder from the stand and then beckoned for him to come closer. Jacob did after gathering the contents of the suitcase to carry with him and when he was standing in front of the fireplace, she offered him the bowl he peered at curiously.

"Get a handful and throw it in the fire. Say 'Hogsmeade' and you'll arrive in the village. You can walk to Hogwarts from there and you can ask for Newt." She stared at him and he blinked at her. Doing as he was told, he took a handful of it and felt the soft powder on his hands like they were ashes.

"Where's the fire?" he asked, looking at the fireplace with interest and excitement boiling in his veins. Bunty seemed to remember he was new to all of this and ushered him inside the fireplace—did he shrink? Or the fireplace got taller he couldn't tell—but he fitted right inside with all the sooth and blackness surrounding him.

"Step inside—face me, there. Keep your elbows with you or you'll hurt yourself. There's no need for fire, the powder will bring you there. Just say Hogsmeade that shouldn't be difficult even for a muggle."

"Hogsmeade?"

"Yes, this is connected to the Hog's Back's bar. Newt had it connected in case there are emergencies. Now off you go—don't forget to throw the powder and shout clearly your destination—"

"What if I don't say Hogsmeade correctly—?"

"You just did—now go!"

Jacob nodded vigorously and still looking at her, he did as he was told and threw the powder down his feet—at the same time shouting as clear as he could despite the pounding of his heart— "Hogsmeade!"

His vision became blurred with fiery yellow and greenish fire that enveloped his body but he never feared getting burned. He didn't feel anything at all except for the fire engulfing his vision and the next thing he realized the entire environment had change of what was once Newt's sitting room was now an old bar with stools and wooden tables with lamps on the side. His arrival didn't seem to surprise anyone for there were only three drunk people on separate tables and one man in long black coat seated by the counter as Jacob stepped out, eyes wandering around in awe. So, this was Hog's Back? Is it?

A bar tender came out from one of the inner doors, an old man wearing a ragged apron with white hair and beard, holding a dirty rug as he paced behind the counter to clean his glasses. Behind him barrels and barrels of rum and alcohol were placed on top of another. The bartender gave him a grumpy look as Jacob came closer with eyes on the dusty surrounding for being a baker himself, he was always keen with cleanliness. He won't be commenting on that however, as he had business to attend to, so stepping up by the counter with the brown suitcase, he smiled up at the old man, even though he could read bits of letters like cynthiacey with hearts around it— couple name? — written in the dust on the poorly wiped table while the barman continued to ogle at him sullenly.

"What do ye want?" he barked, enough to make Jacob jump and half glance at the lone man in the black coat who seemed determined to mind his own business.

"I, uh… this is… is this Hog's Back in Hogsmeade?"

"What do ye think this is, the stinkin Ministry of Magic?"

Jacob stared, and then heard the lone man chuckle but didn't look up. Jacob tried again. "I'm looking for Hogwarts."

"Oh, lookin for Hogwarts, are ye?" the old man pointed at the door, "Then get out of the door—see if ye can miss the castle ye stinkin—"

"Stop it, Cello," the lone man finally spoke up as he stood up from his stool and glanced briefly at Jacob, "This man is a muggle, can't you tell?" He gave the nomaj a piercing look behind his blue eyes while Jacob gazed at him apprehensively.

"Muggle?" Cello, the bartender with his bushy white eyebrows connecting, "What's a muggle doin here? What are ye doin here?"

"I—I was looking for Hogwarts, I already told you."

"Beta Artemis, my foot! Not another spy, are you?!"

"Spy?" Jacob couldn't help looking back at the guy who dropped quarters on the counter before putting both hands inside his long, black coat and walking away without another word.

"Oi!" the barman called grudgingly after him, "I won't be havin yer face around if it means keepin peace, ye hear? But ye comin around askin if we notice anything attackin schools—then stick yerself here if ye want to keep an eye out! I wouldn't take an overly compensated apprentice like you!"

With a wave at him, the lone man crossed the tables till he was out of the door. Jacob stared after him, trying to remember where he had seen him—until he did. Of course! He then smiled meekly at Cello too, before running after the guy—

Out of the creaking wooden door, Jacob found himself on a sapphire snow-covered ground patch in the middle of the day, surrounded by snowcapped mountains and then buildings after buildings of different shops were few people were walking around. Signages were a top each shop with what looked like broomsticks with store names like Joy Woodly that seemed to serve more beer. There were also candy canes with tag lines of sweet hearts hum and many more. The one he came from was a bullhorn with a barely readable Hog's Back. The nomaj blinked around him, eyes seeking the man in the black coat till he saw him halfway up the road, his coat whipping on his wake with the wind picking up.

"Hey!" Jacob shouted, running after the guy, "Hey—mister!" He trudged after the man who didn't show sign of slowing down so the nomaj had to shout again, "Mister! Wait a second!"

The man in the coat halted and turned at the running muggle with a grunt. Standing in the middle of a short, arching stone bridge with a frown on his handsome face, he waited till the round man was panting in front of him.

"If you're looking for Hogwarts, you're going the wrong way." He said with edge on his tone. "This is heading to the Baerliu."

"Yeah—but it's you—" Jacob straightened with stiches on his side, still huffing, "You're the guy with Newt, weren't you? In the castle when he gave you that blood pact something? It is you!"

The man studied Jacob in full attention as he heard this, his blue eyes glinting suddenly. "What blood pact?"

"I don't know—you tell me. Newt got it from Grindelwald, what else? Did someone obliviate you or something?"

A pause fell and Jacob saw something sinister flicker in the man's eyes that made the nomaj wonder if he got the wrong man. But they look so much alike from that pointed chin, blue eyes and large pointed nose—except this one wasn't crooked— ah! Jacob's mouth fell open.

The man huffed haughtily and shook his head. "No. You must be talking about my brother, Albus Dumbledore. I'm not him and will never be. I'm Aberforth." He took a step toward Jacob with full intent that got the nomaj standing straight and gulping at the sudden intensity of the man. "Now tell me—what blood pact are you talking about?"

Jacob stepped backward, blinking several times.

"B-brother?" he gulped, putting the suitcase between them and understanding the mistake. "Look, buddy. I'm a simple no magic, okay? Do you think I would know what blood pact is except generally speaking? It's a blood pact, what do you think it does? It's supposed to be between your brother and Grindelwald, okay? Didn't your brother tell you anything?"

Aberforth stood there looking affronted with his jaw clenching.

"No, he never tells me anything."

Jacob froze at the coldness of his tone but shrug the tension off his shoulders. "Well, you better come with me and talk to him, better ask for yourself." Jacob began turning but saw no visible movement from Aberforth. "You coming?"

"I'm not going anywhere near that man." Aberforth pursed his lips with fire on his eyes Jacob only saw to people with deep grudge and understood immediately that it must be something of sibling rift which, somehow, he could actually understand.

"Fine, have it your way." He stepped back a couple of times, his dark eyes settling on the handsome man whose face was filled with obduracy. "But you know asking around a grumpy old man won't give you the information you need and sulking that your brother never tells you anything probably is because you won't go talk to him. I mean—I know, I get it. I had a brother, and he's dead—died in the war, and we've had troubles too and I never get to ask him anything about it. And my friend's brother is up there injured and the last time I remember they too had their issues. All I'm saying is—your wizarding world's in a middle of a war right now. You really think it's okay to leave things like this? I mean, not even wizards can escape death."

He arched a convincing eyebrow at Aberforth who continued surveying him with his cynical blue eyes. Before either could speak again, however, there was a loud twist in the wind that got the nomaj holding tight on the suitcase. Looking up in the air, he didn't see anything, but he did notice Aberforth looking pass him and so he did too.

Only to see himself face to face by the very man the whole wizarding world has been looking for: Credence Barebone.

Jacob faltered with Aberforth standing his ground, his eyes narrowing.

"This man…" he began while the nomaj swallowing hard. "The Obscurus?"

"Yeah… that's him." Jacob took a step backward till he noticed someone standing behind Credence, someone with golden locks and fair skin wearing a dark coat and high heels. She stumbled a little as she looked around, back towards him, till she was able to turn and her eyes fell on the nomaj. "Queenie?"

Queenie's eyes rounded. "Jacob? W-what are you doing here—?"

Jacob stared at her, wanting nothing but to reach for her but the Obscurus stepped forward with a wand at hand, starring at the person behind Jacob with his eyes dark and ominous.

"I came to kill my brother." Said the young man that got Aberforth raising an eyebrow. He exchanged glances with Jacob as if asking if he knew what it meant but the nomaj shook his head, nonplussed.

"I swear on my sweet mother Katerina, it isn't me."

Aberforth frowned at Credence.

"Oh? And who might that brother be?"

"You."

Albus Dumbledore and Newt Scamander both stood at the foot of Theseus' bed with the Defense Against the Dark Art's professor's wand out, sifting through the air where a large glass-like ball was suspended above the older Scamander whose eyes were open and watching with gritted teeth. The contents of the orb were hazy black smoke entwined with what looked like pure white and silvery lines.

Newt watched the progress with wrinkled forehead as Dumbledore made gentle flicker of his wand. The Professor's expression didn't look reassuring as minutes ticked by and the younger Scamander was growing concerned.

"Professor?" he asked uncertainly.

Dumbledore blinked but didn't look at him. "I'm sure you are familiar with this, Newt. You've tried this with the Sudanese girl, like what you once told me. This is the obscurial… and the life force to which it is latched. Your brother's life force is basically attached to the obscurial. Like its normal host. The curse may be broken, but its remnants are still inside him. He may yet be susceptible to its control."

Newt gave the professor a quick look while Theseus sighed and asked, "Can you remove it?"

Newt threw his brother a look while Dumbledore made a twirl of his wand, "Stelra etnea."

The magical circle disappeared, leaving the older Scamander staring in the empty ceiling while the professor sighed. "I can try… the obscurial is in an alien host, but it can continue residing there as a parasite, waiting to take over as it has the will of its owner. Having it inside you is very dangerous. But I don't think removing it will be any easier without damaging you." A concerned look appeared on his face.

"The Sudanese girl died." Theseus sat up with difficulty but unlike when he first woke up, there was already color on his cheeks, "Is that what you mean by damage?"

"She died because she was so weak," Newt told his brother as he stared into space, remembering the event with a pang on his heart, "She was already frail to begin with and her obscurus was devouring her… she didn't stand a chance."

"But I do?" Theseus asked his younger brother who glanced up at him quietly, "I'm stronger than her, and much older. Newt?" Newt didn't answer him but his eyes spoke volume of his hesitation. Dumbledore was watching the Magizoologist meaningfully, before putting a hand inside his pocket and turning to the already lively Scamander.

"I'm glad you're gaining your strength, Theseus, but I'm afraid you're not strong enough for the process. You've just been saved from a deadly curse and even without our Head Nurse sending hexes after me— I am against it. We need you to rest, that's the only way we can secure that your life would not be in danger. That is what Newt would want too, I suppose?"

Newt nodded, bowing his head with hands pressed together looking dejectedly on the floor. Being the man who knew most about an Obscurial, the younger Scamander couldn't help feeling frightened for his older brother. The Sudanese girl he found near Yiduoshazi was weak, yes, and the damage done to her by her power was colossal by the time he came—but what made an Obscurial truly frightening was its ability to suck the life out of its host and make them every bit of a dark creature that it is. Credence' power allowed him to scatter himself without a form—escaping death and so on—but that too has its limit. No real human can be an Obscurus. No real human can keep escaping their body without damaging their soul—and should Theseus be possessed once again, Newt doesn't think his brother's body could take the blow any longer. They needed something permanent to remove the Obscurus and he had a fair idea of what must be done.

"Newt?"

The Magizoologist looked up straight to his brother who he found was sitting up with his legs dangling at the edge of the bed. Theseus was giving him a calculating look, as if reading him and gesturing for him to come forward. With a heavy heart, the younger Scamander did and stood beside the bed glumly.

Then Theseus patted his head out of the blue, the same way he would when Newt was still a kid that had him clenching his teeth and closing his fists. No. He won't let his brother die no matter what—

"Don't take what I said seriously, you idiot." Theseus reprimanded him, his hand sliding down Newt's shoulder and staying there, "I won't die easily. How could I leave my younger brother mopping after me like this, anyway?"

Newt kept his head down, his lips trembling which he tried to hide by brushing the back of his hand on his nose and sniffing. "Cause you're also a proper idiot who can't take care of himself."

"Remind me who didn't jump away from a killing curse already under his nose?"

"Yeah? Who lets himself get capture by Grindelwald and had tons of curses in his body—?"

"Who exactly angered him in the first place—even got called out by name and nearly got toasted in Paris if I hadn't been around beside him?"

"Who in their proper head raids a rally of Grindelwald's followers with only a bunch of aurors without thinking of heading to his death!"

"And who appears there out of nowhere with only a niffler—a niffler you hear!?"

"Now, now," Dumbledore chuckled at the Scamanders as he stepped forward and put a hand on the Newt's shoulder, unable to help himself from seeing exactly how he admired the brothers. "We all had things we did in the past that had repercussions, might as well bury the hatchet as muggles use to say. Theseus, you still need to rest more and Newt—I have something I wish to discuss with you."

Theseus immediately raised his eyes at the professor. "It's not something highly dangerous again, is it? Professor? You've been in the habit of sending my brother to these errands that always had him nearly losing his neck, you know."

Dumbledore merely smiled, but before anyone could make another move, the portrait door swung open, followed by hurried footsteps and in came Tina Goldstein with a forbidding look on her face. The three men all turned to her with a start.

"The village!" she began, breathless, "Credence has it under attack!"

Newt stared at her, and then saw from the corner of his eyes his older brother doubled down, clasping his chest with visible pain across his face.

"Theseus!" he held his brother's arm, eyes rounding on what he was dreading to happen.

"He's calling!" the auror gritted his teeth with an angry glare in his blue eyes. "Dammit, Newt if he controls me, you've got to kill me!"

-NOT SO END-

I really tried, I did. I guess I'll see you in the final REAL FINAL CHAPTER! WHERE TISSUES ARE FREE FOR EVERYONE!

p.s: sorry for unauthorized use of names! feel free to tell me if I have to remove it! THANKS! LAST LAST CHAPTER!

WITH EPILOGUE! T_T

Chapter Text

Chapter X.I

February, 1994-

He apparated just about the green lawn filled with wild flowers of red, blue and yellow with tall grass that had been trimmed to look like a maze and other assortment of shapes of creatures with old trees surrounding it that had formed welcoming structures beside his little abode in the middle of the lush green field with their branches twisting upward, supporting thick green leaves shaped like grand clouds in the sky with its ethereal beauty. In the middle of something so simple yet magical stood a house of brown and yellow with its green roof touching the trees. It was his home.

He didn't mind his boots getting wet as he trudged along the ground, the green grass under his boots moisturized by the dew of the cold morning as above hung the greyness of the fog that prevented the sky light in shedding brightness on his path. It was early morning and he had just returned from a short trip wearing his blue coat and thick, yellow scarf while on his hand was an old brown suitcase with appearance that seemed to have survived the test of time. He, who was an accomplished Magizoologist of ninety-six walked like he had never aged from the time he had learnt to run, headed towards the small frame wooden door on yellow walls of the home hidden behind more flower pots and hydrangea underneath round windows where he could see the figure of a person he adored, visible by the kitchen already preparing breakfast with sounds of clatter coming from the inside. He hurried, quite eager to meet her even though it hadn't been two days since he went on his journey to visit an old friend. Returning to Dorset, to his home was always one of the best feeling for someone like him who was always away on long journey and travel despite being retired.

His eagerness showed presently on his quickened step but just as he reached the threshold, he saw something move from the corner of his eyes. He stopped dead on his tracks, feeling something menacing in the dark watching his every move. The man straightened his back, knowing well the presence was coming from the lower branch of a tree directly above his head. A shadow with silver eyes. Without ado, he slowly and motionlessly reached for something inside his coat, just as he saw that thing aimed for his head—

There was a crash as the next second, the Magizoologist had found himself with his back on the floor, holding out a large gray and white kneazle around the middle with fur soft as his pillow, tackling him forcefully as he held a catnip between his teeth, snickering at the failed attempt of assault for the said magical creature was so fond of its master.

"Newt?" came his wife's voice from the kitchen, "That you?"

Newt Scamander raised the heavy kneazle and sat up without difficulties. He then gave the creature the catnip and rubbed it behind the ears. "It's me being kneazle-handled by Mauler. Why's he the only one missing me?"

"I've got two right here waiting by the table so if the two of you boys could stop playing, come here and bring the little bugger with you."

"Hang on a sec," Newt called again as he had just noticed his suitcase, upon the attack, was thrown by the door and was left open with its portal towards his menagerie showing. The Magizoologist sighed and knelt down the close it when his eyes fell on collection of photos he has got sticking to the corner of his suitcase. It was photos of Tina and their family now, filling all corners except one. Newt stared at the empty space and quickly realized what had disappeared. Thinking that it must be during the crash, he half stood up, afraid that he had stepped on the only photo he got of that person, his heart nearly gave out when he found it just on the other side of the case. Picking it up, Newt's eyes fell on the moving photo of a young man with dazzling smile flashing up at him so modestly, wearing that well-groomed three-piece suit and tie, hands on his pockets with chest out proudly. The Magizoologist took a long pause, gazing at the photo of none other than his older brother, remembering well the color that was him behind the black and white print of the old photo. It's been a long time…

Newt pressed his lips as he slowly smiled, then quietly closed the suitcase with his brother's picture still on his hands. Quietly, he entered his home on to the kitchen with the kneazle right behind him.

"Tina?" he started, "Has Theseus gotten in touch yet?"

Part 1: The Auror

Very long... like Basilisk long chapter ahead! Here we go! Let Tissues roll!

1927, Newt's Menagerie-

"There you go," the assistant magical creature caretaker muttered as she straightened her body after crouching on the ground, finishing up mending Patrick's— the part pelican, part deer— injured foot yet again. Why does it always get itself injured, Bunty could only guess, but after stroking the beast's neck, the caretaker could only sigh and pat it to walk away while she put both hands on her waist, looking around the large menagerie hall where magical creatures made hooting noises, stomping of feet and other inelegant sounds only they could make when excited. Well, at least the real ringing noise had died down. It was far worse few hours ago after the Obscurial attack and she was glad Newt called her immediately for what would happen to all these creatures without her? Newt was obviously needed elsewhere and imagining these magical creatures alone would break his heart.

Oh well. That was why she was here for.

Picking up the pail for she had done most of the healing, feeding and mending of the area and was finally about to clean herself up, she noticed something fell on the floor. The assistant picked it up with a smile for it was Newt's photo looking behind him with that charming look on his face Bunty was always smitten for he was indeed very handsome. She wondered how he was doing and was foremost glad again the great Magizoologist trusted her so much with his magical creatures. With her around, he really didn't need to worry about the beasts. But she does worry for him, especially how he left after catastrophe for he was not someone to leave the menagerie in such a state. She then wondered if his brother was okay. What could be happening?

Staring at the picture, Bunty suddenly remembered the nomaj who had came by almost an hour ago. Did he arrive safely in Hogwarts? He did say the words correctly though. Was he able to meet Newt?

She looked around her again and saw everything was now in order. Staring down at Newt's photo, Bunty sighed and made her way onto the long winding stairs and up to the kitchen door. There shouldn't be any problem in checking if the nomaj met Newt. After all, she was the one who told him how to get to Hogsmeade. In no time, she was already in her brown travelling coat firmly buttoned by her neck. She wanted to disapparate but needing to check if the Floo network connected Newt's friend, she entered the fireplace and used the powder.

The yellow green fire flared her onto the quiet dark bar. Stepping out and dusting herself, she looked up in time to hear the man behind the counter—Cello as she remembered—shout angrily at someone—and then green flashed before their eyes—

Before she realized what was happening—things were gone—

And Bunty lay on the cold floor, dead.

"Theseus, if you don't stay on that bed, I'll really be force to kill you." Newt said rather heatedly with round, unblinking eyes staring at his older brother as he firmly stood his ground in front of him while Theseus, with perspiration on his forehead stood opposite him breathing heavily with his wand out. There was an angry glare on his eyes that Newt did not fail to see, and unless a real fight ensued, he knew Theseus was determined to go out there to finish what business he had in mind. But Newt would never let him in his condition and so the argument. Silence fell in the room with Dumbledore and Tina watching the brothers quietly with the sun upon the horizon of the window, ready to set.

"Your brother's right, Theseus," the Professor said softly, his somber face full of meaning, "You're not fit to fight. Your body is still healing and pushing it to its limit… even you're not that reckless."

Theseus blinked several times with his contention still sparkling in his eyes, but after a moment, he lowered them and Newt was glad to see his hand slowly level down beside him. Then after a moment, the older Scamander looked straight to Dumbledore and pointed at the younger Scamander.

"Then he's not going anywhere if it's recklessness we speak of."

Newt gaped at his brother while Tina half smiled despite the situation. Even Dumbledore smiled slowly.

"You're really not in position to make demands, you know." Newt told his brother with a step towards him so that they're the only ones who could hear, "I'm not the one with an obscurial in his body for Merlin's sake!"

"This is more than just an obscurial—" Theseus adamantly replied through gritted teeth, eyes flashing, "I will not sit around doing nothing while others are out there fighting—with you fighting—!"

"What can you do there? What if he controls you again?"

"Then I have to take my chances, but you can't make me stay."

"Theseus!" Newt shook his head, wondering where his brother's innate skill of reason had gone that left his body with that stubbornness he was also most known for, "We don't know what would happen if Credence dies—what would happen to you—we don't know how it will all end!" Newt took another step till they were nose to nose but both brothers had their unblinking eyes to the other, "Precaution is what we need, and unless I know for certain you're going to be safe—you're not going to leave this place, so don't make me curse you too."

"I think I can handle it—" Theseus was still beside himself but his younger brother suddenly gripped both his shoulders to stop him. Eyes shut, Newt let out a heavy sigh and stared his brother in the eye again. This was Theseus, the Auror speaking. He needs to talk to his older brother, his sibling whom he naturally loved.

"Just let me handle this. I know all about Obscurus more than you. So please—just please—stop distracting me."

There was another beat of silence only to be halted with the arrival of Professor McGonagall's from the portrait hall. There was a concerned look on her face as she looked around the occupants, the Scamander brothers looking inseparable, then she came close to the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and whispered something to him who's face slightly fell, and with half a look at Newt's direction who caught his eyes, Dumbledore shot out of the portrait hall with McGonagall behind, leaving everyone staring intently after them.

The Magizoologist turned to his brother and saw the same fire in his eyes only got ignited. Helplessly, Newt found saw his brother's wand and pointed his own at it— "Accio!"

Theseus' wand slipped out of his grip onto Newt's open palm. The older brother glared, but upon seeing the firm look on Newt's usually gentle face, the Auror had to drop it and turned away with clenched fist and squared jaw. Newt watched him for a moment with his own lips pressing, wanting to say more, but knowing it was futile, he glanced at Tina behind him and walked towards her.

"Please look after him," he whispered with his face etched with concern, "You can't let him go out there, please, Tina. If there's anyone capable of stopping a temperamental auror… it's you."

"The Aurors stuck inside a building while the Magizoologist is the one out there fighting…" Tina gave him a shrewd look but Newt's pleading expression got through her heart that she just had to agree with him. "Alright… but will you be okay? Are you sure you don't need me there?"

Newt's hands shot up to her wrist and the coldness of his hand surprised the American auror more than anything. And she realized how afraid he was as she wordlessly looked into his eyes.

"I need you to stay with him."

She nodded, moved by his desperation to protect his only sibling that reminded her of her own. Where was Queenie? She hoped she was safe. She then felt Newt press Theseus' wand on to her with eyes flickering.

"In case something happens and he absolutely needs it…" Tina nodded again as Newt focused on her lips, and then retraced her whole face as if memorizing her up to her eyes, before giving her a smile. "I really like you— your eyes."

She smiled as he did, and with a final look at his brother whose back was turned on him, Newt Scamander took his brown suit case from the corner and left the Hospital Wing. The American Auror watched him go, then glanced back at the older Scamander whom he noticed was holding on to the bed to support his legs.

"Theseus?" she called, walking towards him, "Do you need help?"

"Go with him," muttered the British auror, eyes up and retracing the steps his brother took before disappearing and Tina could see the dissatisfaction etched on his handsome features, "In my current state, I won't be able to do anything… so just go."

She shook her head with understanding in her eyes. "I can't leave you. That'll only make him worry." Seeing the impatience on the injured warrior's expression, Tina continued, "He just wants to protect you."

"And both of us are stuck here, so who's going to protect him?"

The edge at his tone revealed how much the older Scamander was agitated and Tina understood with her grip on the wands tightening. She kept her eyes on him, remembering the times it was Newt who was so anxious to have his brother back, the only times he saw the Magizoologist up the wall, the same expression now Theseus was exhibiting. These brothers were hardly different and she could just see their overwhelming affection that needed not any validation—they were the Scamanders. They will always have each other just like her and Queenie…

Remembering her sister, Tina cleared her throat and was a bit surprised to see Theseus looking in her direction. She met her eyes and blinked, wondering what it was that he wanted to say. He had one of those straight expression, the same kind of expression Newt would have when something occurred to him out of the blue.

Then Theseus spoke and asked. "Has my brother proposed to you yet?"

Tina coughed—and coughed several times that the wands fell down the floor with loud clatters—and she had to pick them up hastily with face reddening up to her ears, her black eyes unable to hold his gaze and had to shift away on to another direction. She found Theseus watching her in amusement despite his ashen face, his eyes were twinkling, erasing the trace of a man so determined to go just now. But no matter—as long as it removed that tensed atmosphere, Tina was willing to discuss about any topic just then. But why this one now!?

Theseus was still watching her with full intent which made Tina want to disapparate on the spot.

"I— I uh… I don't think he had in mind…" but Mercy Lewis—were they so obvious? Boy, the ceiling looked refreshing through her inspection. Does she have to say more? And why was he so awfully quiet? Doesn't he approve of their 'thing'? At her own curiosity, she stole a glance back, only to see that Theseus was smiling. It unnerved her and wondered if he was teasing her to deliberately cease the tension between them. She looked down the floor now. "Please stop bringing up stuff like that, we're in a middle of a situation here." She braved through it and finally looked up again. Theseus was nodding, his fair features showing in the face of pain as his hand was still by his chest.

"But that's the very reason why you should both never miss any chance." He said so quietly. Meaningfully with eyes lingering at the foot of the bed, and Tina didn't know but a sweep of sadness suddenly enveloped her by just watching him. Then she understood again, this was not just about Newt and her… it was him and Leta too…

The American Auror couldn't help dropping her eyes and held back tears. She didn't know why she felt so emotional, it was Queenie who was the Legilimens between them. But a tear fell on her right cheek and she had to wipe it away quickly. She didn't know—it was probably because they were in the middle of a war and anything could happen, or that Newt was out there fighting, or because the look on the older brother's face was so heavy—of the pain no one could understand behind his eyes, the pain showing on his clenched fist but most of all, deep inside his heart Theseus had realized that he would never see her again.

"Why are you crying?" came his deep voice and Tina blinked up in surprised after her tears streamed down her cheeks. She wiped them again and tried to smile but the look he was giving her was enough to tear her apart. She could just see pass him, just like with Newt. He was broken but still trying to be better… He was enduring it all.

"I'm fine." She lied, as the final tear was swept away again and she managed to walk towards him. "You shouldn't push yourself and get on the bed. Newt will be back in no time and… you're going to be fine too."

"I'm not." He replied more quietly, surprising her. "I'm really not. That's why I need you to be with him. Promise me you'll never leave him."

Tina stared. "What do you mean?"

But the older Scamander showed her more than told her and what Tina saw was enough to throw her in a state of despair as her hands found her way up to cover her mouth. Oh, Newt…

For Theseus stood there with his unbuttoned shirt, showing her the casualty of one who had been subjected to one so powerful curse from the Dark Wizard. Half his middle looked like it had been burnt black— like some dark cobwebs crawling on his skin, pulsing and moving and seemingly spreading to occupy the whole of his body. Theseus's chest heaved at the sight and as he met Tina's eyes, there was already a decided look on his face.

A loud bang rang in the whole Hogsmeade—and everything was in pieces.

The whole bridge collapsed as surmounting magic clashed in the air, causing the wind to tremble and for the river to explode everywhere as curse and counter curse flew from both directions, hitting stones, trees, and buildings from the nearby wizarding village with people coming out on rampage to escape as jets of silver and white and then cloud of black smoke hitting like a bomb went after its target that easily dodge and slash the air of red sparks—it was a massive fight. Credence proved to be lethal as a possessor of wand and being an obscurus, but having no training, Aberforth was much on par with his aggressive counter spells that showed no mercy nor holding back whatsoever.

"Who are you calling your brother?!" the younger Dumbledore bellowed as he apparated on the opposite bank, his black coat appearing as ominous as his penetrating blue gaze, Credence appearing on the other side of the bank with the same straight expression, but his dark eyes were alive. "Who told you you're a brother of mine? Who was it, boy?"

"Grindelwald." Credence replied, twisting his wand in the air for another attack. "I am Aurelius Dumbledore and I came to kill my brothers. Grindelwald said Albus Dumbledore will definitely come if I kill you. He is the one I hate the most."

Aberforth glared with daggers at the mention of the name and he smirked. "Aren't you feeling mighty swell? To be thinking of getting rid of both Dumbledore's with—what? Your powers? Boy, I grew up with an obscurus for a sister—you think I wouldn't know how to handle you?" he whipped his wand in the obscurus' direction. "As for my brother, you can try as hard as you want but that man would die on his chosen time. That's how selfish he is." He paused as he surveyed Credence with his bushy brows beetled, "But Grindelwald sent you? Where is he? Is he here? I have no time for a small fry like you—tell me where he is!"

But Credence made no attempt to reply as his background darkened and off was the obscurial directly attacking the younger Dumbledore who, with another shielding charm that grew before him on to the air, pushed back and scattered the smoke—and the two clashed once again like fireworks shooting up the graying sky with screams of people everywhere. Along the broken walls near the bridge, Queenie emerged. She had thrown herself at the stone walls to cover herself at the first explosion, her wand now on her hands but still unable to raise her head as jet sparks continue to hurl in the air, one after another. But she was desperate to see what was going on for then—Jacob had disappeared with the men and she was worried for him that she risked raising from her hiding place only to see that the bridge was no longer there. Her heart skipping a beat, she frantically stood and called out for him, unminding the spells above her head as she realized what could have happened—

"Jacob!" she called, half crying, seeing as he was not on the opposite of the bridge. She then looked at the rubbles below, then with a sinking heart, she disapparated and apparated right beside the stone blocks. Whipping her wand, all the debris floated in the air and threw itself on different directions, uncovering finally, a body of a man who had fallen white and lifeless.

Queenie gasped, her wand dropping down the almost dried out river. Her hands trembling, she tried to reach out to him but lost all her senses and collapsed on her knees if not for someone catching her from behind.

"Queenie," whispered the familiar gentle voice and before the American witch, the brown-haired man in his blue coat noticed his friend's body and leapt to his feet immediately after setting her right, and was beside Jacob in no time, checking his vitals—his eyes, his neck, his pulse. Queenie blinked with tears streaming down her cheeks, unable to hold her own emotions. But with strength as she saw Newt do everything he could, she crawled on the rocky river, not caring as she scrapped her knees as long as she could reach him. She was beside Newt and clawing on Jacob's wet coat, seeing clearly his bleeding head before bursting into tears again.

"Jacob, honey?" she reached for his pale face, "Honey, please…? Please don't be dead… please…!"

Newt's face looked grim as he finished mending Jacob's injury and turned at the devastated blonde witch. "Queenie," he tried again, taking her by the arm and trying to make sense of her, "It's alright, he's breathing. But he's in danger here. Queenie!" he shook her shoulder to make her green eyes focus on what he was saying, "Let's get him out of here first, okay? He needs quick medical attention—in fact—" he bit on the handle of his brown suit case and grabbed her and Jacob as curses flew in their direction and he disapparated with the two onto the village of Hogsmeade, just in front of Hog's Back.

Kneeling on the floor, Newt stood up and conjured a stretcher for his friend. He then opened his suitcase and accioed a bottle of dittany but before he could give it to the American witch, something white came jumping to his shoulder from the portal—it was the Demiguise, Dougal, who quickly grabbed Newt around the neck and hung there, it's large eyes facing Hog's Back, his claw like fingers digging on the Magizoologist's flesh—and with that Newt understood—Dougal who can see the immediate future— so in the next second he had casted a powerful shielding charm exactly as the Hog's Back bar exploded with blue fire—its bits flying everywhere as the Magizoologist watched the same blue fire engulf everything that on site.

"Queenie," the younger Scamander said to her who had Jacob on her lap, eyes transfixed at the fire where he could already see a form of man emerging. "You and Jacob into the suitcase—now!" Newt rummaged inside his pocket and took out Pickett and handed him to Dougal who blinked at him while the Bowtruckle complained. "Sorry Pick, this is not your battle—the two of you go too. Hurry!"

Dougal grabbed Pickett who tried to squirm away but was gone inside the suitcase after Queenie and Jacob, leaving Newt to kneel on the ground while shutting his suitcase close, eyes not leaving the blue fire where the Dark Wizard Grindelwald finally appeared in a form of a large shadow that slowly became solid and then there was him. Prim and supreme, the Dark Wizard graced the little village with his presence, his eyes casting at the empty vicinity until it fell on the only person able to stand in his presence.

Then Grindelwald smiled as he recognized the man. "Mr. Scamander. Did you like my little gift?"

Newt stood in his full height, fist clench as he held both his wand and suitcase. To what the Dark Wizard was referring to, Newt could only think of one: Theseus.

"You're going to regret ever laying a hand on my brother." The Magizoologist said quite vexed despite the calmness of his own voice.

"Threat doesn't suit you, Mr. Scamander." The Dark Wizard remained smiling. No one had expected Grindelwald to appear in broad daylight, especially near Hogwarts where everyone knows Albus Dumbledore was in—the only wizard Grindelwald ever considered his equal. To have him here now, Newt could only think of one reason why. Grindelwald looked no less forbidding, but calm all the same. He held his wand firmly on his hand as he walked down the remaining steps on to the same ground as Newt's his eyes raising to the battle on the corner and then at Hogwarts. A gleam appeared on his eyes. "Well, this is truly interesting."

The blue fire raging over Hogsmeade the villagers had been trying to extinguished in futility was overcome by a single jet spark from the sky. It went straight at the heart of the blue flames and from there it was turned to ice as if nulled, standing so majestic in the ruins that turned into dust in the next second. Newt watched as dust filled the sky like snow, and before he knew it someone apparated in front of him and there was Albus Dumbledore facing Grindelwald in the closest proximity the two greatest wizards of their time had stood since their fall out in Godric's Hollow years ago. Newt couldn't help feeling curious at the strange relationship, yet he wouldn't let Dumbledore do all the work for after all—wasn't he under a blood pact with this same Dark Wizard?

Stepping beside the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Newt stood his ground firmly and levelled his glowering look at the blonde Dark Wizard. Seeing him beside Dumbledore, Grindelwald couldn't help a smirk.

"This confuses me." He turned and glued his eyes at the Hogwarts professor. "Are you so enamored with Newt Scamander to be standing beside him rather than your brothers? You know they are battling on the other side, Aberforth and Aurelius." A meaningful smile appeared on his lips.

Dumbledore gave Grindelwald a fixed stare behind his searching eyes, before glancing towards the direction of the explosions that Newt couldn't also help but notice. But did he hear it right?

"Aurelius…?" he blinked up and stared at Dumbledore who met his eyes and looked away, then back to Grindelwald. Who was this Aurelius? The last he saw it was Aberforth—Dumbledore's only brother and the obscurus—Credence. Another flicker appeared on the Dark Wizard's eyes.

"So, you haven't told anyone?"

"Because it doesn't make any sense." Dumbledore replied tersely, "For Credence to be related to my family."

Newt stared at the professor, and then shot a look behind him again, the information sinking fast as everything he ever believed to be Credence from the rumor that he was from an important French line, to Leta's lost brother and now this— it shook him a little but with it coming from Grindelwald, he couldn't blame Dumbledore for doubting him.

"What is he talking about?" the Magizoologist asked, his wand lowering but with Grindelwald watching him, he remembered he had to be vigilant. "What do you mean Credence is… a Dumbledore?"

"Not by blood, of course." Grindelwald tilted his chin, eyes now watching the battle from afar, an interested look on his face, "but by magic. I wonder how Aberforth would react knowing he has the shorter temper between the two of you. Aren't you worried this very nature would get him killed, Albus?"

Dumbledore's brows furrowed as his mouth turned grim and from there, something seemed to snap and fire was on his blue orbs. "What do you mean not by blood…?"

Silence fell in the air, even Newt recognized that he too was hanging for Grindelwald's next words. The Dark Wizard seemed to enjoy the control on such an audience, he even stepped forward, his blue and other light-colored eye darted to them with expression of self-satisfaction at the effect he was creating.

"Obscurial, Albus, an Obscurial. Have you been dulled by your constant short sightedness?" Grindelwald only smiled again as the Hogwarts' professor's expression turned in dawning comprehension. "A dark twin, Albus. That is born in the absence of love. Your sister, as powerful as she is from your bloodline… you really think her obscurus would be the same as others that would just disappear when its host died? You with the bloodline the could call forth an ancient mythological beast of rebirth—the phoenix?"

Newt was now having a hard time taking that in, eyes averting back to Dumbledore. His sister was an obscurus? He had studied Obscurials for years, even had a residue of it from the Sudanese girl to take home to study where he found it could not survive out of the magical circle without its host. Hearing now and understanding that a powerful Obscurus could latch away from its host after it died and survived even to a new host was only a theory he had in mind after extracting one from the Sudan girl—but then finding out that Credence—a proper adult of twenties—had survived when no Obscurus as a child was expected to was a living proof of his lack of knowledge. Was Grindelwald—what he was trying to imply— that Dumbledore's sister—powerful Obscurus who died has left behind her dark twin— and somehow found its way to Credence Barebone?

Newt glanced at Dumbledore again and saw for the first time that the professor was also staring back at the Dark Wizard with uncertainty behind his blue eyes. He looked shaken—afraid even.

"Dumbledore—" the younger Scamander began, but another voice spoke. A strong voice that seemed to disenchant listeners to what they have just heard. The owner came from the shadows as if he had been standing there for quite some time now to join the little gathering in the middle of the street.

"Is that why this kid thinks he's my brother? You've fed him quite some lies there, you talented scum."

It was Aberforth emerging from the battle field. Albus, Newt and Grindelwald all raised their eyes to the younger Dumbledore who appeared with few scrapes and torn black coat while on his right hand he dragged the half-conscious Credence by the back collar of his shirt. Everyone watched Aberforth in awe as he threw Credence on the ground, Grindelwald fixing the younger Dumbledore with one heavy brow slanted in strong disapproval while the latter gave him the same disgusted one.

Newt wanted to approach Credence but Albus Dumbledore held him back with a strong hand. It was when Newt realized that a new tension was on the air that was nowhere near the tension between the Hogwarts Professor and his old acquaintance. If there was any bad blood between them, it was nothing compare to what Grindelwald and Aberforth seemed to share.

The younger Dumbledore threw something down the ground and they all saw that it was a wand broken into two. Credence was half awake and when he saw it, he crouched on the ground and tried to reach it. Aberforth half glanced at his older brother as if sending him a warning with that obvious glare, before fully turning his attention to the Dark Wizard.

"You're saying this boy is a Dumbledore because he's the Obscurus of my sister, aren't you?"

"You don't believe it?" Grindelwald challenged, arching an eyebrow just as Credence began to rise from the ground. "Even with this single proof? Credence—?"

It was like a cue, and from where he stood, Credence Barebone summoned it—a phoenix burned bright on his shoulder, its red and golden wings spreading and bringing light to the darkness that enveloped the surrounding—

Newt's mouth fell while Albus Dumbledore gazed at the beautiful creature in disbelief, his face turning white by the minute as slowly, despite what his instinct was telling him, was slowly accepting that this could be Ariana's power all along. There was only one person who was not impressed by the development, and he shouted, much enraged at the obvious imitation—

"YOU CALL THAT A PHOENIX!?"

Aberforth raised his hand wand—and from somewhere far a weird music came—like a song so high it put Newt's heart to rest with assurance of life he didn't know where was coming from—and out of nowhere from the sky, a crimson bird the size of a swan appeared with its glittering golden tail and music. It swooped down in front of Aberforth and clashed with the phoenix from Credence—and they all watched as these magical creatures fought with wings flapping in the air like bullets of fire—till the phoenix of Aberforth dived down straight to the other phoenix' breast— on to its back and the creature gave a shrilling screech before burning down, its feathers turning black till nothing of it was left.

Waiting for its rebirth and seeing none, Newt blinked at the magnificent bird that hovered above their heads and then down to Grindelwald who looked so indifferent, except the narrowing to slits of his impossible eyes while the Dumbledore brothers stared at each other.

"Don't tell me you're going to fall for that, Albus? Going to believe that she's back no matter what form, are you? And going to what—protect him?" Aberforth shook his head with angry glint visible on his blue eyes while his older brother breathed heavily, "A dark twin—an obscurus, you say? Something vile that can grow in the absence of 'love'—? What do you think I am to her? I loved her!" he bellowed that had Albus shifting on his feet but holding his ground as returned his younger brother's intense stare. Then Aberforth turned to Grindelwald who was a mask of tranquility, but his eyes were blazing. The younger Dumbledore pointed his wand at him and continued, "If you think you can manipulate everyone, then you're mistaken. You know you can never get the best of me, I know what you truly are. Now get rid of your puppet and face me. You're not a coward, are you? Ah yes—this is the man who fled from my house after that accident in fear of being arrested. Of course, you're a coward."

Newt saw Dumbledore beside him react, and realized that Aberforth was taunting Grindelwald into a duel. But the Magizoologist now had other things on mind for then, Credence was left standing on the side with eyes on his broken wand and from the expression on his face, he was on the verge of breaking. Newt made a start to approach him, but they all heard cracking sounds of different people apparating here and there—coming from different directions—the villagers had called forth reinforcements from the Ministry officials!

Grindelwald's atmosphere change drastically and to Newt's surprise, Albus Dumbledore found his way beside Aberforth, who then was the sole receiver of the Dark Wizard's wrath. Aberforth threw his older brother a scathing look but didn't say anything as they stood side by side, the one as tall as the other and Newt suddenly remembered Theseus. Then the next thing, something like a long, thick black cloth filled the surroundings—like the same time in Paris when the Dark Wizard called on his followers. It slipped through every nooks and crannies of the village, hiding everything on sight and filling the already gloomy sky for dusk had fallen as it spread—even headed directly towards Hogwarts but the school's enchantments protected its walls with the black fabric burning almost immediately.

Newt felt assured that Tina and his brother was okay for now—especially if the number of Grindelwald's followers would come to their master's call. What Newt didn't expect though, was the screams of the villagers that was followed by a bone chilling growl and howl.

Newt shot up a look at the sky and saw to his horror, the full moon rising.

Werewolves.

"What are those?" Aberforth said with eyes at the fabric surrounding them. Newt looked too but he didn't have time to register their number for they glided in numbers, slipping from the very black cloth of the Dark Wizard—they were mysterious creatures of old that Newt believed to be somehow related to dementors but they were different. Violently different. With cloak-like appearance, a dark cape that slithered in the air these Lethifolds— these Living Shroud considered to be a highly dangerous sentient beings far worse than dementors for they crave human flesh—such carnivorous creatures to be out on the filled in a human village!?

"Grindelwald!" Albus was beside himself in anger as he also realized they were surrounded while screams filled the air. The Dark Wizard had called forth not his wizard followers but those creatures of the dark with full intention to harm and incapacitate, "Have you really gone so low —?"

"What can I say?" the Dark Wizard piped up lightly, a smirk of triumph on hi impassive face, "You gave me no choice when you moved against me so openly."

"Moved against you—?"

Grindelwald's light eyes scintillated. "The blood pact. I know you have it. I would not be here if not for it."

Albus gave his old acquaintance a hard stare while Aberforth raised an eyebrow at the two. "What blood pact is this? Did you really—?" when he got no response, the younger Dumbledore pointed his wand again—only to be halted by Albus, Aberforth was onto him furiously, "I thought you were the brilliant one, you fool!"

"Such unneeded brother complexity…" Grindelwald sneered, but his eyes shifted to Newt as if remembered that he was there. "How about you, Mr. Scamander? How is your brother? With his remaining lifespan, I thought a sentimental fool like you would stay on his death bed? But I suppose you're here thinking you could save him? That's unlikely. Unless you are here to end its anchor?"

"What do you mean?" Newt raised his head up with Grindelwald pointing at Credence who was still lost in his own world.

"Newt, don't listen to him!" Dumbledore called out that only received an arch of eyebrow from the Dark Wizard while the younger Scamander hung for his words.

"So, you did not know about the anchor of the curse? Albus didn't tell you?" his eyes gleamed and he seemed to be enjoying himself somehow, "How the Obscurus within him will soon take over the body and turn him into a formless void that would seek to rejoin its original host soon?" Newt stared dumbly at Grindelwald who smirked at his ignorance. "Your brother, Mr. Scamander, will soon be a part of Credence—"

"Enough rubbish!" growled Aberforth fiercely, sending a red jet curse in the Dark Wizards direction who easily deflected it and disapparated— Aberforth was after him as he too vanished despite Albus' objection—and their duel ensued in the air with Dumbledore uncertain if he would follow when he too was worried about the Magizoologist.

"Newt!" he called, unable to pry his eyes away from the disappearing form of both his younger brother and Grindelwald, "Newt— it's true about your brother—but Credence—Credence is the key! Talk to him!" With that, he too vanished and joined the battle ground and there it was that the three dueled the same way they did back in the Dumbledore's house—but this time there was only one at stake for Albus Dumbledore.

Newt stared at Credence who hadn't move a muscle from where he stood, the revelation about Theseus' impending doom preying heavily on to his mind.

With a start, he glanced towards Credence' direction.

A loud cracking sound—and Tina, donning her black coat, apparated on Hogsmeade village with Theseus leaning on her shoulders. The Head of Aurors was now fully on his suit but the tie, his wand already at hand after convincing Newt's fiancé that it was a battle neither of them should miss no matter the consequence. The American Auror who saw his resolute expression despite his condition, was moved by his determination and her own worry for Newt who had to know—before it was too late— the brothers needed to be together.

But Theseus could barely support himself after the short walk from the Hospital Wing onto the border of Hogwarts' walls. The pain on his chest had only gotten worse by the time he stepped foot on the village, but whatever agony he was enduring was momentarily forgotten as he heard Tina's gasp that made him look up to see ahead. That when is eyes feasted on the devastation that was before him—bodies of people lay on the ground as werewolves howled at the moon. And a dark veil was on the air. It was the thick black fabric of none other than Gellert Grindelwald hanging above the sky, and coming out from it were the Living Shrouds he only heard Newt mentioned once. They were deadly carnivorous creatures different from Dementors who leeched off human flesh. Theseus threw away his pain and stood up straight, eyes quickly scanning around to see silhouettes of wizards trying to fight off werewolves and Living Shrouds at the same time. There were villagers running and screaming who stumbled on their feet and would have been devoured if not for those with wands and still on their feet.

Before Tina and Theseus came swooping five Living Shrouds from different directions. Theseus raised his wand and produced a Patronus—for Patronus it was that they fear he heard his brother say once. Tina seeing his example, followed immediately and both corporal patronuses of a lion and a kneazle burst out of their wands and chased away the Living Shrouds.

Theseus exhaled loud at the exertion and Tina was beside him at once, while watching out for another attack.

"Never mind me," the older Scamander swallowed hard with beads of perspiration on his forehead, but his eyes were already alertly scanning the area, "Help the villagers. They should already know they have to use a Patronus, but the werewolves are scaring the wits out of them."

"I know," Tina also looked around in concern, "but we have to find Newt first—"

"He's going to be fine."

"But you're—"

"Someone's coming…" Theseus cut her off and stood in his full height as running footsteps came closer in their direction. Few seconds later, a group of wizards began calling to Theseus in the dark as if recognizing the older Scamander's voice. Apparently, the light from their Patronus attracted the wizards as well and it was then that Tina and Theseus found themselves surrounded by eight Ministry wizards who all were looking at the Head of Department with relief in their eyes.

"Theseus!" called one very grit middle aged wizard with blood on his clothes, his hair a mess.

"You're already here!" said another with frown on his face, his green coat with claw marks, "The whole place has fallen! Werewolves are scattered about and then these blood-sucking creatures are after us as well!"

"How many reinforcements do we have?" Theseus wanted to know, the auror in him fully in control.

"A dozen came and there's only so much of us now—the others had to coax other villagers to disapparate." Replied a curt black-haired man Tina was sure one of those wizards Newt would describe as 'kill first' type of auror. His hands were bloody but he didn't seem to mind. Theseus looked like he was making quick thinking, before finally turning to his men.

"Bailey, call for more reinforcements. We need to guard the line of Hogwarts and warn nearby villages. That's you, Ramsdell. Tell them what happened and order them not to panic. The rest of you seal the area and keep as much as Living Shroud as you can and do not let anyone escape. They're highly dangerous. There haven't been any creatures like these seen for a long time and the last time I heard they despise the cold and remain in tropical region. Them being here would mean they are somewhat weak. Destroy all of them using your Patronuses. Make sure no villager is left behind, save any injured and then keep an eye on werewolves. Contain them if necessary—"

"Contain?" an outraged response from the Auror with green coat came, disdain on his face was apparent, "Are you out of your mind? Have you forgotten what they are? They're werewolves out of control! We must get rid of them!"

Tina stared at the angry auror, before averting her eyes to Theseus. It was common understanding how unpopular werewolves were, especially with the threat they carry with their bite. Tina doesn't blame the auror for resenting them for Newt had much experience of said matter. Humans kill what they fear and do not understand.

The older Scamander was also studying his men with piercing scrutiny and Tina could swear she saw something in his eyes flicker—the same flicker she would often see in Newt's eyes when it came down to choosing to harm rather than to understand. Theseus was doing the same as he spoke quietly:

"That's the same kind of mentality Grindelwald is expecting us officials to have. Violent. Werewolves are humans trapped in that body and incapable of reason for the night. Whether they chose to side with Grindelwald or whether they were forced, we are not one to judge their death when they are not in control of their body. We are protectors and it's left to us to see that they return to their sanity before dragging them in court. The only place where fair judgment is served."

Silence followed his statement and the irony of a howl filling their ears made everyone shift uncomfortably in their feet. Only Theseus seemed clear of the agenda but nobody seemed willing to contradict him further. Some of them still looked unconvinced, but Theseus merely nodded at them and soon the wary expressions disappeared, leaving only men taking orders from the Head of Aurors with the same resolution.

"Wands up," Theseus continued, "Show no mercy for the Living Shrouds, they have no prejudice whether day or night. Patronus on the field and let none escape."

With that, one by one the Aurors disapparated and apparated on different areas of Hogsmeade, leaving Newt and Tina with one last Auror in the green coat staring at the Head of Aurors in curiosity.

"I'm surprised you're quite familiar with Living Shrouds." He commented, making the older Scamander slightly smile and turn in his direction.

"You forget," he said with much pride, "I have an expert for a younger brother."

Part 2:The Hugger

Do take a break for a while! And thank you for reading until this part! :) Avoiding tissues, are you?

The black veil never disappeared regardless of the darkness of the night sky. And Newt just stood there in the middle of it all while the battle of the Dumbledores and Grindelwald happened elsewhere. With him was Credence who had crushed the broken wand on his hand and now dumbly staring at the spot where his phoenix had dropped with no remnants remaining. Confusion was on his face, but it was nothing to Newt's own disorientation from the Dark Wizard's revelation.

"Your brother, Mr. Scamander, will soon be a part of Credence…"

No matter how he tried to understand it, one thing was evident by the Dark Wizard's words: that his brother was not safe and any time his body would be taken over by the obscurial, then disappear and become one with Credence. Newt took a moment to process that, but his mind still refused the thoughts of Theseus disappearing forever. He stared blankly now at the Obscurus responsible for whatever fate his brother must now deal after his sufferings at the hands of the Dementor's Curse and now this…

Why won't they leave Theseus alone… why can't it be him instead…?

What must be done? What could he do to prevent that?

Newt didn't know what to do but to transfix Credence a look. What should he do for Theseus now…?

Unable to take the hollowed feeling deep inside him, Newt took steps toward the Obscurus with Dumbledore's advise ringing on his ears. Talk to him! Does that mean this man would be able to…? That he's the only person able to save Theseus? The thought made Newt blink as a reign of hope filled his heart and he found Credence again. In a few strides, he was in front of the dark-haired man whose head was still bowed in defeat.

"Credence," Newt found his voice and swallowed hard, "Credence, please listen to me… please my brother… help my brother!"

"Brother?" Credence whispered as if it was the only thing that came to his mind. But he didn't look up and instead continued mumbling to himself pitifully, "I don't have a brother… I wasn't a Dumbledore… he lied to me…" his voice shook, his eyes dilated darkly as it filled with tears, his teeth gritting and fist clenching. The atmosphere surrounding him turned sharp and Newt felt the ground he was standing in tremble. Before he could react, he was hit solidly by Credence's power that he felt his feet leave the ground, his suitcase slipping from his hands till he fell painfully with a thud on the ground.

Feeling his muscles ache, Newt quickly got up to his feet in the next second when he heard loud howling sounds from nearby. Casting a glance around, he then found himself surrounded by at least six werewolves who all crouched and smelt the air, their pointed nose bloody from attacking others. Newt raised his wand, but there was no time to deal with the werewolves as the Obscurus' exploding magic formed a giant ball of black mass around him— thrashing and discharging to nearby establishment and leaving nothing of where Hog's Back used to stand. Newt was in a quandary for he wanted to calm Credence, but the threatening presence of the werewolves slowly closing in him was stopping him, plus his fear for Theseus' welfare in case Credence suddenly disappears was weighing heavily on him. He didn't know where to start but when the werewolves howled again, Newt just knew he had to face them in order to get to Credence— and the werewolves instinctively knew the same as with a growl, they jumped in his direction—

The Magizoologist gripped his wand, ready to stun the creatures gifted with vicious teeth—their weakness lay on their abdomen, he should be able to aim for that— but from somewhere far, a louder, much powerful snarl was heard coming from the ground. Newt raised his head as then like a fire of lightning he saw it fly in the sky with its colorful, soft tail whipping behind it. Zen, the Zouwu was on the ground in a flash, coming out of the open suitcase and lashing at the werewolves with its gigantic paw. The werewolves gathered around it in packs—and Newt watched as they all attacked Zen at once but the Zouwu was much faster than any of them combined—

This left Newt turning to Credence again and found the man still in rage with his power. The Magizoologist headed for him, calling out his name and distracting it from disappearing. He needed Credence here! He needed Credence to help Theseus survive otherwise… otherwise if what Grindelwald said was the truth and he was an anchor to the curse then there was only one way to save his older brother. Worst comes to worst—was Newt prepared for that…?

"Credence!" Newt stood in front of the violent dark orb, "Credence, stop this and listen to me!"

But Newt was merely a target for the Obscurial's rage as it assaulted him, with only disapparating on the spot saving him—twice. The rampant Obscurial thought it was being provoked and Newt being a second too late—was once again hit in the middle and was thrown to the debris and ashes of the building nearby—his back hitting them so hard it took awhile for him to catch his breath, his head spinning and a taste of blood on his mouth. A shadow then fell on him and looking up, he saw the Obscurial once again ready to attack him—but Zen moved swiftly and clung on to it with its body— reducing the dark orb to scatter like a snake around it.

"No!" Newt shouted, watching helplessly as the Zouwu got wrapped in Credence' power and squeeze the life out of it like a giant serpent. Zen's roar resounded in the Magizoologist' ears as he pushed himself up despite his injuries, wanting to help, wanting to do something with his eyes filling with tears— until he stumbled on something he would never forget for the rest of his life.

Underneath the debris there lay an arm. And after it the body. Newt's eyes fell on the woman lying beneath all the rubles, her red hair filled with dust, her face peaceful as she was dead. A woman he knew well that was enough to make his knees buckle and dropped down the floor.

"Bunty?" he whispered weakly, eyes shining with tears. How she got there, how she died there all escaped Newt as he reached for her cold, dusty hand and pressed it with his own. In tears and with heavy feeling in his chest, Newt stared up at the Obscurus and to his dying Zouwu. How many must be sacrificed before everything stopped? He looked down at Bunty again, a colleague, a friend he had always taken for granted now gone forever, just like how his brother and everyone else would be if he did not stop this. If he did not stop him.

Fist clenching, the Magizoologist got to his feet with a new look in his eyes as he rummaged inside his pocket desperately and took out a blue liquid bottle. From there, he disapparated and apparated just before the struggling magical creature and the Obscurial. From there too, he whistled long and loud in a pitch only that magical creature would understand—and from the open suitcase came jumping a wet, large horse with bulrush mane taking the form of a steed as it jumped out and crashed itself on the Zouwu and the Obscurus. The impact sent the two on the ground and for Zen to open its wide eyes and yowled loudly while the Kelpie tried to rip the Obscurus' away with its bare teeth while stomping its feet.

The Obscurus then had no choice but to pull away, the Zouwu grunted as it was released but was damaged and panted on the ground with legs shaking. It was the kelpie who stood beside it, stomping away the werewolves that dare come closer. Credence materialized on their left in his human form and that was all what the Magizoologist was waiting for. Newt, with fire of anger in his eyes threw the bottle up in the air and wielding his wand, he shattered it directly on the man's head, the blue venom seeping to his skin easily. It took a moment for Credence to realize what had happened and was about to transform yet again before Newt casted a spell to hold him down—

"Oh, no you don't!"

Credence was yelling in pain as his body, in the middle of turning to an obscurus, got trapped with the Magizoologist' containing spell—who with a glaze of something dangerous in his eyes, could only see him now as the creature who harmed his friends from Jacob to Bunty who lay dead, Tina whom he nearly took, to his magical creatures, and now threatening the life of the person who mattered to him more than anything—

Theseus was dying because of him!

"Newt!"

He had to end it. He had to end it so no one else had to suffer.

"Newt, stop!"

Someone was shouting around him, but Newt's eyes were only on Credence and how sorry he was that Bunty had to die and promised himself no one else was going to be taken from him—

A firm hand suddenly clasped his wand hand, and before Newt stood Theseus Scamander with a fierce look in his eyes. "Newt, what are you doing?" he hissed, trying to push down the Magizoologist's hand but it didn't budge an inch from the air. "Newt!"

"I'm saving you…" Newt was found breathing hard, his blue eyes transfixed at Credence, unblinking and unrecognizing. "You won't survive while he's alive… he has to die…"

Theseus blinked several times in understanding, but kept a hold on his younger brother's wrist and shook his head, clearly sensing that something was wrong with his brother. "Stop this now—release him!"

"No—!" there was a struggle with the Magizoologist keeping a hold firm— why would someone stop him saving Theseus!? He had planned to extract the obscurus from Credence, but the idea that the obscurus would jump to the next body where it has already resided stopped him for it meant his older brother. There was only one way to make sure Theseus was safe. This was the only way. Saving Credence was…

"Newt!" Theseus bellowed, his other hand clasping his younger brother's shoulder and shaking him angrily. Seeing the determination in Newt he had never seen there before, the older Scamander realized he was serious—that his brother was willing to end a life for his brother— but no—he won't allow it!

"Newt, you're not a murderer!"

The spell was broken and Credence fell on the ground fully in his human form. Theseus breathed hard as he saw the boy wriggle where he fell and took it as a sign of life, before fully dragging his blue eyes back to the younger Scamander and gave him an unrelenting stare. Except that, Newt looked so lost like a little boy with that round, unblinking, shinning eyes from unshed tears that Theseus couldn't help but keep his remonstration at bay. Something obviously happened that distracted, even somewhat change Newt to this devastated form the older Scamander didn't quite enjoy.

"What's happened?" he inquired, still holding on to his younger brother's shoulder while from the corner of his eyes, he could see Tina Goldstein standing still, watching them and Credence with eyes as round as Newt's. She had stunned three werewolves the moment they arrived at the scene after seeing the kelpie crushing the others down and remained where she was. Theseus turned back to his brother. "Newt?"

Newt's eyes, if possible, widened even more as he gulped and shifted on his feet. Then his soft voice reached his older brother as he swung his restless gaze. "Bunty's dead…" Theseus was momentarily frozen at this piece of news. Newt only gulped again, his shoulders defeated, eyes unseeing as he continued, "I was afraid… you're going to be dead too."

There were no words Theseus could say that would even explain how his heart went to his brother. All he did then was to pull Newt into a tight embrace, and held him. His younger brother responded almost at once as he clung on his back, his face buried on the older Scamander's shoulder where the tears he had been keeping had welled up and he was shaking on Theseus' arms.

"It's going to be alright…"

"Don't die, Theseus…please…"

Theseus patted Newt's back with a small smile but he didn't say anything. His silence only had Newt gripping his fists on his brother's back. But in the middle of his tears, he saw Credence slowly stand up with confusion across his face. The brothers moved apart as they both watched the man look around them blankly. Newt pressed his lips as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Theseus was watching Credence.

"What happened to him?

"I…" Newt hesitated, "I used the Swooping Evils' venom… on him. He's not going to… remember anything bad that's happened to him." A sad expression suddenly enveloped Newt as he too watched the helpless boy, "Which would have a different effect if… if he hasn't any good memories to begin with…"

Theseus sighed and still kept a reassuring hand on Newt's shoulder. Then from where the brothers stood, they saw a blonde-haired woman emerge from the ground—from the suitcase that remained open—and she was a sight to behold. Her green eyes were red from tears, her cheeks flushed and a mess from all the crying, her hands were trembling and Newt's heart froze as he read the signs of her mourning figure.

"He's dead…" she whimpered weakly, "He's dead… Jacob's dead…"

Theseus stared at her, and then slowly to his brother who stood there frozen, lost for words in his own grief that no one saw the blonde witch to pull out her wand and pointed it at Credence's back—

"You killed him!" Came Queenie's high-strung voice, "Avada Kedavra!"

Green lights flashed before their eyes—

And Tina Goldstein dropped on the ground after diving first in front of the boy.

Epilogue

A/N: Before this ends, I would like to express my sincerest thanks to everyone who supported and is still reading this! Fantastic Beast is another awesome world, made to rock with awesome characters, especially the Scamander Brothers! I somehow understood J.K Rowling's attempt to squeeze all characters in one movie! It's really trying with all that back stories! She's really awesome and I wouldn't have this kind of world without her. Thank you for following this. Let's support the Fantastic Beast Fandom! Till FB 3 :)

Go forth- to  the end :) Tissues are unavoidable now!

A phoenix singing from a far woke her. Her head was too comfortable in the softest of pillow that she refused to move from her position but her mind was bugging her to open her eyes. Like something was out there, waiting for her, whispering for her to return… because he was waiting.

Tina found herself staring in Newt's blue eyes the moment she opened her eyes. It took her a moment to recall everything, but his gentle smile was enough for her to feel at ease and smiled back. Newt watched her, and then slowly took her hands and pressed it on his lips quietly. Tina gazed at him, feeling her heart flutter at the gesture.

"Don't do that again, please…" came his relieved sigh as he opened his eyes and stared at her in concern, "I wouldn't know what to do anymore if even you… I nearly lost everything in one night."

"I'm alright." Tina whispered back, memories of her last action coming back to her, "I knew it wouldn't have worked if it's Queenie… we did a—"

"Blood pact, I know." Newt didn't look comforted at the thought as the idea of blood pact was to make curses ineffective, but it being the Killing Curse, Tina still suffered minor injuries. "Queenie told us about it… it seemed to shake her up. It nearly killed me."

"I couldn't let my sister kill anyone, I wouldn't let her soul get destroyed like that." Tina answered earnestly, her eyes glinting up at Newt who kept his eyes at her, "Just like your brother who wouldn't let you finish Credence. Killing anyone isn't the right thing."

Newt nodded, more to himself and smiled a little. "I remember."

She nodded and travelled her eyes on the whole hospital and realized she was in a real hospital room that was unlike in Hogwarts. "Where am I? What happened after that? Your brother—?"

"You're in St. Mungos," Newt explained as he straightened and pressed a hand on her arm to keep her from moving, "You sustained injuries the phoenix couldn't heal—"

"What phoenix? And where's Queenie?"

As if on cue, the room's door opened and there came the younger Goldstein wearing a white cardigan over her pink blouse and when she saw that Tina was awake, Queenie's face visibly fell—and there she went and flung her arms around her older sister who was so taken aback but readily responded to her embrace.

"You idiot, Teenie!" the younger Goldstein sobbed with half her body on the bed, burying Tina with her warmth, "I told you never be reckless like that! You're always like this even back home! Always making me worry for you! What am I going to do with you!"

Newt had stood up to give way to Queenie who refused to let go of Tina while older Goldstein assured her sister that she was fine. Sitting up, however, her eyes then fell on the doorway and to her shock, saw Jacob Kowalski standing there beaming at her with his friendly face when the last she remembered was Queenie saying he was dead. Newt, seeing her surprise turned and found the nomaj before nodding to explain.

Apparently, the Dumbledore brothers returned on time with Aberforth supporting quite a woozy Albus Dumbledore with no apparent injury. From what Aberforth said after that, Grindelwald had left them to battle his wizard followers who all were after Albus Dumbledore. It was a large group but because the Dumbledores were a real force to reckon, most of the purebloods fled at the sight of their power. By the time they finished, Grindelwald was gone with the older Dumbledore supporting a bleeding head. The phoenix swiftly fixed that. They came back in Hogsmeade and saw the chaos left behind and Dumbledore being the capable man that he was, removed all the trace of the Lathifolds with the flicker of his wand. Leaving them with a distressed scenario of the Goldstein sisters and the Scamander brothers—

Only then, Albus had noticed that Tina was breathing while Aberforth crouched over the open suitcase after hearing the singing phoenix and there came out, without a bruise to show for, was Jacob's head with the mythological bird perched on his shoulder.

"I didn't even know I died." Jacob said with a shrug as they gathered around Tina's bed, Queenie now on the chair and Newt standing beside his nomaj buddy, "The last I remember was the bridge collapsing and then the bird was there."

"You didn't technically die," Newt said with both hands on his blue coat, "You stopped breathing, and then did. But the phoenix truly has wonderful and incomparable healing properties. It also took care of Zen's injuries."

"What about Credence?" Tina sought Newt's eyes knowing well he has the answer, and everybody knew she actually cared. She did jump in to save him after all. "What happened to him?"

The Magizoologist found all their eyes on him all of a sudden, and like what had already told them, he repeated, "I've given him the Swooping Evil's venom to erase all his bad memories, to… incapacitate him. To remove his motivation for revenge… but it wasn't as easy as that because…" the Magizoologist paused, eyes dropping on the sheets of the bed, clearly not proud of what he has done to the man, "he didn't have any good memories to begin with." He found her still staring at him and sighed as he continued, "Credence lived his whole life in misery… that the very idea of erasing bad memories erased his whole existence. He doesn't… he doesn't remember anything about his life at all."

"Like he was obliviated." Jacob piped up knowingly with brows furrowed as he thought about the feeling of not remembering anything. Glancing over Queenie, he quietly took her hands and she in turn smiled at him.

"St. Mungos has taken charge of him, preparing him for a trial." Newt went on heavily, "See if they can deem him responsible for his actions. I heard Dumbledore will stand as a witness for him. Tell them he's mentally unstable for any form of punishment."

"They're putting all the death toll and damage in Hogsmeade after Grindelwald." Queenie said quietly without any hint of fondness to her former leader, "Somehow… I can vaguely remember the exact location of his castle."

"Never mind that." Jacob squeezed her hand as the American Auror tried to connect everything to make sense.

"Are they going to send him to Azkaban?" she quickly asked the question everyone knew she would ask, but nobody was able to give her a straight answer. "What about his Obscurus?"

"I was able to extract it, and Aberforth's phoenix destroyed it." Newt answered, "It's gone. His powers. And because he's an adult he was able to survive the process."

That seemed to calm Tina as her tense body slowly leaned back on the bed.

"And your brother? What about Theseus?" A long silence fell upon the question that had Tina searching the depths of Newt's eyes in concern. "Newt?

Newt kept still and nodded at her reassuringly. "He's fine. He's going to be fine." He smiled mechanically that had Tina frowning instead. Queenie, being able to sense her and read both their thoughts, glanced up at the Magizoologist and nudge him with her elbow, her green eyes expressing both concern and decision.

"I think you should tell her now, Newt. It's no good keeping secrets to your future wife."

Theseus Scamander spent the whole night reading up reports upon reports of the incident that occurred in Hogsmeade in the comfort of his own office at home that day. Being still just discharge from Hogwarts, he was given time to recuperate but his insistence to oversee some reports regarding his department had him sitting in front of his table, wearing only his white buttoned shirt with sleeves pulled back to his elbow.

It had been two days since the Battle in Hogsmeade and the whole wizarding world was still shaken by the dark events, even leading some parents to question the security and safety of Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry even though no such reports of incursion or anything going pass the walls of the castle was reported. It was here that Theseus and his aurors became part of the spotlight after their successful containment of surviving werewolves who upon returning to their human state all admitted to either being coerced or being under the Imperius curse—and were still likely to go to trial in the following weeks. There were also the reports about the Living Shroud that killed a number of nine villagers including a child that were all destroyed on sight that had Theseus wondering where Grindelwald was recruiting all his followers because yes, he plans to go after him to the remaining days of his life.

A knock on the door had the auror looking up to find Newt standing there, shifting on his feet with less enthusiasm which vaguely reminded the older Scamander of their common argument about visiting him in his home. Checking his watch, he was just on time to see the clock hit five in the morning.

"You still don't like coming here?" Theseus asked his brother casually, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he pressed a seal on the paper he just read, and stood up to gather all the papers. Newt had entered and was watching him quietly.

"I didn't say I didn't like coming." The Magizoologist mumbled, hands on both his side pockets with Pickett peering out from the top corner pocket, "Why do you always assume the worst of me?"

"I didn't, you were doing it." Theseus turned and let the papers fly towards the next table where he keeps most of his compilation, before glancing back at his brother lightly, "But strangely enough, you're always here in the past few days. I had the impression you were getting bored."

"I was more of a babysitter than a person with time to get bored," Newt pressed, walking towards his brother's table as he watched him pull on his gray coat, "are you ready to go? Did you finish everything?"

"I have. I've already spoken to the Minister of Magic. He was sorry to see me go." Theseus fixed his tie, before looking up at the glum expression his brother was giving him, "What's wrong? Is Tina okay?"

"Huh?" he blinked, "Uh, yeah, she's going back to MACUSA to give her report. Why do you aurors—even after coming from death bed—just has to get up to give your desk report?"

Theseus fixed his back collar and shrugged. "Don't you give incident reports?"

Newt blinked once, then his eyes fell on the table as he changed the subject while up Theseus' eyebrows went. "Queenie and Jacob will stay at my place to look after the magical creatures, which of course means having access with me as well since its connected to my suitcase. They want to stay longer here since MACUSA is still unclear of Queenie's involvement…"

Theseus walked around the table and stood in front of the Magizoologist with a knowing look on his face. The older Scamander had often reminded Newt that keeping a stock of illegally bred and unregistered creatures was an offense to the law, but that never stopped Newt from breeding them all the same. Which here would explain the lack of paper works from the Beast Department every time the secretaries of the Prime Minister would check. Theseus would often hear about it and roll his eyes skyward. There was no way to change Newt anyway.

"I'd like to see you become the Prime Minister, someday." Theseus threw at him out of nowhere that had Newt ogling at him like his brother had suddenly sprouted two heads on his shoulders.

"Are you mad?"

"Maybe I am." Theseus said with a twinkle on his eyes, "But I suppose, that's exactly what we need in these changing times… some madness."

"Theseus…" Newt blinked after his older brother and followed his out of the door. "You're serious?"

The two left Theseus' home after ten minutes and apparated just about outside Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry. Hogsmeade has improve greatly with added security and newly structured buildings. There were villagers outside and everything seemed to be back to normal despite their lost. To which reminded the older Scamander of his brother's assistant and friend. Newt had paid a visit to Bunty's family after the incident and remembered her fondly, despite his misgivings of always taking her for granted, Newt obviously misses her.

Marching on the bridge leading to the castle, Theseus couldn't help the lingering sadness upon his younger brother's aura that he just had to stop walking and let Newt turn back with a start.

"You don't have to come with me, you know." Theseus began with a genuine light expression on his handsome face. The younger Scamander stared at him and then frowned.

"I won't leave you." He said stubbornly, the same words Newt said repeatedly on the night after the Healer's final assessment of his brother's cursed body while Tina was on St. Mungos. "I've already said it."

"But you don't look happy coming with me." Theseus pointed out kindly, closing the distance between him and the Magizoologist and staring him straight in the eyes, "Newt, you have your own life—you have people you cared for now. You don't have to come."

Newt shifted on his feet again, his eyes avoiding his brother's, before scratching his head.

"I think you're the one misunderstanding me, Theseus," he said after a short pause, his eyes fixing on the bridge's stone barricade, his lips pressing characteristically. "I won't do anything I won't be happy about. You know me." His eyes flickered up to find the older Scamander's eyes on him. "So, stop worrying about me, and worry about yourself for a change." He walked away after that, leaving his older brother staring after him quietly, and slowly following.

Up to the castle, Theseus once again found himself on the private room with his back pressed flat on the bed with his upper body bare to the eyes of the Healers, Newt and Dumbledore. A considerable change had happened on his chest for the creeping menace of dark had disapeared. Still, his skin remained dark and Dumbledore said it was never going away. Theseus' body was damaged more than anyone could imagine.

There was a magical circle above him again, but unlike Dumbledore's first attempt, there was no longer any obscurus visible in their eyes. But there remained little dark spots circling inside, like magical dusts unable to form. Newt narrowed his blue eyes to crinkled slits, studying the bits closely, till Dumbledore raised his wand and the magical circle disappeared.

"It increased, didn't it?" Theseus said casually, as he sat up from the bed while pulling his shirt back on his body. "The fragments of the curse? It never really left."

Newt sat on the nearest chair with hands gripping its edge. Dumbledore looked somberly at Theseus.

"No," he admitted as light as he could but failing as his brows kept furrowing, "It didn't. And yes… it's increasing. Spreading around your body… I was able to slow it down with the Phoenix's tears but it's a dark magic by nature. Nothing could truly remove it."

Theseus nodded once while he buttoned his dress. "The same estimate?"

Dumbledore nodded heavily.

"Yes. In two years or less…"

Newt squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. The same verdict was given that other night they learned of the real result of the Obscurus' disappearance in his body. A curse was a curse, the Healers said, and a deadly one remained a deadly one. They even considered Theseus lucky for surviving it this long, but then no one ever was that fortunate.

"Well…" the older Scamander cleared his throat, throwing his feet down the floor and standing straight. "That should be enough time to do what I can…" his eyes traveled to his younger brother who refused to look at him. Making him sigh but smile all the same, "Two years or less is a long time."

Newt never shared his positivity. Not on this one, he didn't.

The Astronomy Tower saw the break of dawn upon Theseus Scamander who was standing by the balcony with hands on the baluster. He was wearing a long black travelling coat while behind him, Newt stood in his blue one with Dumbledore beside him. His brown suitcase forever beside him.

"You will keep in touch?" Dumbledore peered at Newt with his electrifying blue eyes. "You will keep me posted of what's happening, especially with him?"

The Magizoologist nodded. "I'll always keep my eye on him."

"Don't get into trouble too much. But I suppose, since Theseus is with you, I doubt you'd be too eager to jump into trouble."

Newt actually smiled at that and stared at his brother's back. "We'll find a cure, I'm sure."

"He's under the impression that you are both travelling to hunt Grindelwald." Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at the Magizoologist, "Or have you told him of your own plan?"

"He knows I want to find a cure, that's why I'm coming along. The world is vast, Dumbledore, there are hundreds of possibilities… magical creatures to discovered that could give me the ingredients to save him. And he needs this… he needs a break. I'll find that cure. I won't give up even if he has…"

"What gives you the idea that he has?"

Newt didn't answer, but quietly raised a hand and shook his Professor's hand. With glinting eyes, he smiled and thanked his benefactor, "Thank you for saving Theseus. I will always owe you…"

"It's the least thing I can do for the two of you." Dumbledore replied sadly. Newt shook his head.

"You gave him time. It's more than enough. Take care, you're not getting any younger, Dumbledore. You should be the one to hear the stop getting into trouble line. And Merlin's pants, stop getting other people in trouble."

The professor chuckled and patted his shoulder. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to contact me. I'll be there when you need me. And if you do cross paths with Grindelwald…" the professor paused, then simply recovered, "my own brother's still on his track. I'm sure we'll meet each other along… Take care, Newt."

Newt nodded, just as Theseus turned towards them with the sun behind him, smiling quietly at what lay in store for him ahead. Newt watched his brother, and then joined him by the balcony. The two argued for a while as the sun rose, its blinding light livening the color of their brown hair, and Dumbledore watched in wonder as the Scamanders brothers turned to him and then waved their hands.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher raised his hand, then a crack and the Scamander brothers were gone. Dumbledore walked towards the balcony to witness the start of the day, already missing in deepest recess of his heart the Scamander brothers whose relationship he truly cherished. He had never mentioned it to Newt, but he had always admired what the Scamanders had from the very beginning.

A kind of beginning he still wished he shared with his own siblings.

Eyes casting towards Hogsmeade, Albus Dumbledore did recall hearing Aberforth saying he would buy the former land of Hog's Back and make his own inn. Well, that was always a start.

Wishing Newt and Theseus a safe journey ahead, Albus Dumbledore disapparated too.

Who knows when he would see the brothers again? But it was an end of an era, that much he knew.

February, 1994-

Newt appeared by the kitchen and dropped Mauler next to Hoppy and Milly who both reached their backs to be stroked, which the retired Magizoologist did before removing his coat and finding Tina by the sink. Kissing her temple, he sat by the chair after taking one of the baby nifflers dangling by the silver spoon cabinet to his pocket and stared at the meal before him.

"How's Dumbledore?" Tina asked, sitting opposite him and flickering her wand for the dishes to start washing itself, "Was that Hippogriff really going to be executed? What's its name? Buckbeak?"

"Yes and no, I think Dumbledore will have it escape, he's got a plan I can tell." Newt raised his eyes on his wife again, "So has Theseus called or mailed?"

"He did, awhile ago," Tina confirmed staring at the moving platter with a niffler under it. Newt giggled. "Your son said he will drop by tomorrow. Good thing you've returned early this time."

"Yes," Newt nodded, suddenly feeling delighted at seeing his only boy and feeling a mixture of loneliness as he found his eyes dropping on his late older brother's photo. It was a passing feeling that would always haunt him from time to time that Newt had learned to live by. But it was always a fact, he misses his brother. He did promise Theseus that he would be fine on that fateful day when all he remembered were the tears and the pain, like he would never be the same. Theseus always said real war heroes die young, but Newt made him stop and pleaded for him to be okay. It was the worst night Newt would always reminisce when he was on his own. Of Theseus' last moments and his brother making him promise to live happily with his loved ones.

It was also the last night he was able to receive the embrace of his brother full of surmounting love. And Newt realized above all else, on that night, how Theseus' embrace was always so warm and generous… and a question came to his mind—of how to survive without his only brother's presence…

Those were dark years indeed…

Sixty -five years later and there was his only son bearing the same name of the bravest person Newt had ever known. Sixty-five years later and Newt still wished Theseus Scamander had lived. Theseus never regretted anything as he fought in the war against Grindelwald in his last two years. Those two years they fought alongside each other that Newt still dreamt of from time to time, and as he grew more older, the stronger his desire to see his brother became.

Living happily with Tina was more than he could ever wish to have in one lifetime. Having his son coming for a visit was a consolation as well. Newt, in his age, had become more sentimental with family as he craved nothing more than the presence of his close friends, magical creatures, and his family. And in a few years, he knew, just knew after fulfilling a great life, he would also welcome his end with open arms for then it would mean he would be able to meet him again. That brave, brave brother. The kindest man who loved him as much as love there is to offer.

Theseus Scamander, his brother auror and best of all, a hugger.

-THE END-