ataraxia ☆

Percival bitterly bites his lips. This was the fourth time he had sent a letter to Theseus, a long-time associate at the British Ministry of Magic. This also marks the fourth time Theseus has flat-out ignored any of them. According to Newt, a new acquaintance he made after he returned to MACUSA, his brother was doing all the Ministry things in Britain and “doing all of Travers’ work, unsurprisingly.” When he confessed about Theseus' unresponsiveness, Newt seemed a little lost but said he didn’t know why.

“A little busy on his side, perhaps?”

“Seems off character for him, unless he changed in the months I’ve been gone.”

“No, but I wish he did. Still a bothersome brat, he is.”

“Theseus?” “Newt. What brings you here?” Newt can hear the smile cracking through his voice. Theseus stands up from behind his desk and walks over to the door where Newt is standing. He stopped before his younger brother; his straight posture and commanding aura made Newt hunch a little more. Newt clears his throat and answers: “Uhm, I was wondering, well…you see, I’ve been talking with Percival Graves for a bit.”

Theseus freezes for a second but nods before returning back to his desk. Newt takes this as a sign and settles in a black, overly-soft armchair across the desk. As Theseus sits down, he hums - a deep and long one, before looking Newt in the eye. “I’m glad you’re making friends, then. Though I’d rather not think about how you had to almost die to do so.” Newt slightly groans under his breath at Theseus’ statement. “I had made them before that incident.” Theseus nods and says, “Not Mr Graves, though.”

Newt looks up instantly. Mr Graves? Weren’t they friends? “Well, at least Percival’s my friend.” At that, Theseus quietly chuckles as if it was almost funny. “Yes, Newt. At least you made a friend. Well, I hope you aren’t boring him with how to take care of magical creatures he’ll likely never come across or-” “Actually, he’s been inquiring about you.” Newt thinks that he catches Theseus’ breath waver a little, but his voice comes out stable. “Oh? Is that so?”

“Yes. He’s been sending you letters; he was wondering if you had received them.” The Auror hums and Newt squints a little, trying to figure out whether Theseus is trying to devise an excuse. Theseus has never been easy to read, Newt thinks, like most people. “I see…I haven’t received anything yet, but I’ll reply as soon as possible when I do.” Newt shakes his head unconvinced and walks up to Theseus’ desk. Theseus flinches slightly but gives Newt a questioning look: “Newt, what are you doing?” The younger brother shrugs but scans the desktop anyway. “I was hoping you had received them.” Theseus nods, but he remains silent. Suddenly, Newt’s voice rang through the Head Auror office:

“Accio letters from Percival!”

Letters appear on the desk between the two brothers. Newt gives his brother a disappointed look, but Theseus only grimly smiles. “America really got you thinkin’, huh.” An awkward stillness fills the room, and Theseus doesn’t fill it like he usually does. He must have realised that Newt wasn’t entirely stepping out of his ‘Newt-shell’, so he takes the letters himself, then forcefully opens a drawer and places them inside, still in an unopened, neat pile.

“You aren’t usually a liar. Or someone who runs away when someone’s reaching out to you.”

“I know.”

“Then why?”

Theseus shrugs before saying, “Maybe I don’t have the answer. At least not right now.” Newt folds his arms in front of his chest, huffing a little, causing his hair to rise slightly. “Percival is a friend of yours too. Shouldn’t you reach out to him? Like…he returned from being held in some bloody cell of Grindelwald’s. I, well, I think a good friend should reach out to people like them.” Theseus opens his mouth, probably to say something like bold of you to say, but instead, he shuts his lips back up with an unstable exhale. Given the calm atmosphere around them, he stands almost too abruptly and makes his way to the door.

“I have a meeting with Travers. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

Newt doesn’t reply, but he knows he doesn’t need to. Theseus walks out anyway, making sure the door doesn’t slam too hard and leaving Newt sitting alone.

“Theseus has received them?”

“Yes.”

“Then tell him that he owes me a visit. Sunday night: 6 pm for me, 11 pm for you pronto. And tell him to floo over into my office, I don’t want him splinching from the cross-continental apparition. If he doesn’t show up, I’m going to London and getting him myself.”

Newt later told Percival he had informed his brother, with no acknowledgement - only dismissal from him, telling him he had things to work on. He knows that Theseus had heard him - he could tell Theseus was hesitating before replying - but Percival also knows that Theseus was refusing the offer as if he had a choice.

“Merlin’s beard- Perc- Mr Graves?” Theseus was in his office, shocked at Percival’s sudden arrival. Percival looked around, scanning the British Auror’s office like a Niffler trying to find gold. Theseus’s shoulders drop, but his eyes never leave the American while going up and down his figure. Percival takes note of it but doesn’t comment as he makes himself comfortable on an armchair across from Theseus. Theseus sighs before giving Percival a crooked - and if Percival observed right - insincere smile. “What brings you here?”

“Maybe you should listen to your brother more. He’s starting to give good advice,” Percival comments. Theseus nods and says, “That wasn’t the answer I needed, and you’re lucky I’m working…overtime.” “Actually, Theseus,” Percival remembers, “I went to your living room and then your bedroom. I didn’t expect you to be working here at 11 pm on a Sunday.” Theseus shrugs and returns to leaning over the desk, scanning the papers Percival assumed were related to chasing Grindelwald down.

“Anyways. Theseus, it’s been a while, huh.”

Theseus looks up from his paperwork and tilts his head slightly. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out for a few seconds. Percival observes how Theseus pauses and how his body almost freezes. He only seems to continue breathing when he finally speaks up.

“Yes. It has been.”

“And what’s with the formalities? We’re friends, Theseus. I haven’t heard you call me Mr Graves since you were 24 when we met.”

“Right.”

Percival raises an eyebrow at Theseus’ bluntness as the younger focuses on his paperwork. Usually, Theseus was affectionate to the people he considered friends or family. But now, Theseus was pausing too often, and his voice was quieter.

“You have quite the eyebags, Theseus. Torquil has been loading you with work?”

Theseus lets out a weak chuckle, and Percival gives him a soft smile, though Theseus doesn’t notice as his eyes stay down. Theseus’ hand stops when grabbing another paper from the stack when he catches Percival approaching him from the corner of his eye. He doesn’t stop the American when he stops right in front of the desk and takes a paper from the stack, his eyes scanning the document intensely.

“Theseus, this isn’t related to Grindelwald,” Percival said, voice filled with confusion. Theseus shrugs and continues reading his own document. Percival’s eyes darken, and he sternly asks Theseus: “Don’t tell me you’re doing all of Travers’ work.” Theseus sighs, finally taking his eyes off his paper and leaning back in his chair. “Not all, just some. Some of it’s related to…you know.” Percival groans at Theseus’ incompetence. “I don’t think an outline for his meeting next week is something you need to do, Theseus.” “No, but….” Theseus doesn’t finish his own sentence and leaves it at that.

“Percival, you haven’t quite answered my question yet. Why are you here?”

“Why have you been ignoring my letters?”

“I told Newt that I would reply once I received them.”

“The same person was the one who told me you had, in fact, received them. I hope I don’t have to accio them here too.”

Theseus grins shyly. “I didn’t think Newt would be corresponding this much.”

“Why have you been ignoring my letters?”

Theseus doesn’t reply and lets the question linger in the now-suffocating atmosphere of his own office. When he does, Percival’s heart softens instantly.

“My own demons weren’t telling me not to,” Theseus whispers, as if he didn’t want Percival to hear it. But he does, and he walks around the desk that separates the two and places a hand on the younger’s shoulders. 

Percival understands - when he met Theseus, it was after the Great No-Maj War. One that Theseus willingly participated in against his own Ministry orders. He had found Theseus in the bathroom near his office when the British Ministry of Magic sent several Aurors as envoys to discuss how wizardkind was dealing with the consequences. Theseus was shaking on the ground but was silent. When Percival invited him to his office, he watched Theseus slowly accept where he was, and it started a close bond between the two ever since.

Percival has his own share of demons, but he has spent most of his years as Head of the Magical Law Enforcement and Director of Magical Security after rising up the ranks young. He may be an Auror, but he wasn’t fighting on the front lines most of the time as he wasn’t a Head Auror. Percival also was an American and a wizard who didn’t fight during a devastating war, even if it was only a No-Maj one. Theseus had spoken about it before: How the blood he spilt raided his head for days and nights on end. How the title War Hero was too much because he was nothing but a celebrated murderer. How he didn’t even know how his dear family was doing, and the nightmares intensified when he heard his little brother was dealing with Ukrainian Ironbellies.

Theseus’ voice snaps Percival out of his thoughts. “Shouldn’t you be mad at me?” Percival grips Theseus’ shoulder a little more tightly, but Theseus doesn’t seem to mind. “No? Why would I be?”

“I was corresponding with…not-you. And I don’t know, but maybe I should have realised it wasn’t you,” Theseus’s voice fades when he continues, “I was talking to the very man I was supposed to catch.” Before Percival could speak up, Theseus goes on. “I should have known. I’m your friend…but I couldn’t even notice that it wasn’t you. What kind of Head Auror am I….” He doesn’t move, his document in his head now forgotten, gently flapping with the air around them.

Percival wants to bring Theseus a little closer as he feels Theseus’ vulnerability rising, but instead, he stays still as he replies. “I would never blame you, Thee….” He could feel Theseus’ shock from the way his back straightened. “Of course, you wouldn’t, Perce. I just…I just thought I deserved it. Like, you hating on me. It’d be justified, you know.”

Hearing Theseus’ words, Percival shifts so he can comfortably place both hands on Theseus’ broad shoulders - something that got Theseus flinching slightly - and gently squeezes them, causing the younger to relax. “Don’t worry; I’ve always got your back. You know that, right?”

Before either of them could blink, they had disapparated with a snap.

“Theseus- what are you- oh?” Shock dies down when Percival recognises the place around them to be Theseus’ living room. Theseus is now standing, removing his suit gracefully and folding it onto his couch. “Percy,” Theseus smiles as the nickname leaves his lips, “stay over for the night. It’s been a while.”

And Percival knows damn well that he has work the next day, but he figures the time difference will substitute for it. He also knows that Theseus has had a long night and desperately needs rest from the eyebags he’s sporting. So Percival follows Theseus’ example: Percival takes off his suit, places it on the couch and steps forward, facing Theseus. The other tilts his head slightly, not entirely understanding what his friend is doing until he holds his hand up, and a bottle of Sleeping Draught appears.

“I think you need some of this, Thee,” Percival says, feeling like he’s instructing a child. Not that he minds. Theseus only weakly laughs, exhaustion dripping with every breath he lets out. “I don’t like to rely on it too much. But I’ll listen to you.” “You better. Now where’s this bedroom of yours?”

Theseus raises an eyebrow. “It’d be terribly rude of me not to show you where you’d be staying the night; let alone leave you on your own in my own apartment.”

Percival rolls his eyes and drags him to a small corridor that he’d assume would lead up to Theseus’ bedroom. “We’re wizards, Thee. Plus, who says I’ll need my own bedroom?”

Theseus smiles widely and finally does what Percival had been expecting to happen today: be embraced in a tight hug.

Two solid knocks on the door could only indicate the presence of Newton Scamander. Theseus stood up from the couch and made his way over. His face instantly lights up at the sight of his little brother and his fiancée, MACUSA Head Auror Porpentina Goldstein. He wraps his arms around Newt and holds him a little, and an unspoken “I missed you” makes Newt reciprocate.

Theseus senses the hesitation in his actions, and as much as he wants to hold him tighter, he’s in his 40s. So he lets him go and shifts his gaze to Tina. They both simultaneously take their hand out and share a silent handshake. It’s been a while since Theseus has met Tina - they’ve only ever communicated directly to each other through owls from work. But as Theseus welcomes them into the Scamander household, he recalls the short but very Newt-like letters about Tina. It’s endearing, he thinks to himself as he tells them to settle themselves; he’s grown up so well.

It’s already the 1930s, yet the supposedly golden boy and the War Hero between the two is the alone one here.

Theseus bitterly chuckles to himself. He’s so, so alone.

He hears his mother calling that dinner’s ready from the floor below. He makes his way down to see his father, Newt and Tina seated on one side of the rectangular table. Dishes flew and were placed on the table as Theseus made his way to a seat on the other side. Both his father and Tina were having a heartfelt conversation as Newt sat in the middle, clearly out of place but compensated by observing Tina with doe eyes. Theseus finds his eyes bouncing between the crazy amount of food on the table and Newt - it’s almost comical how fast the nights change.

Just a few years ago, Newt wouldn’t be attending such dinners, leaving the entire family (especially their mother) in a somewhat sour mood. He would forget to reply to his and their mother’s letters, and Theseus often found the responses arriving several months later on his desk. And he would definitely not be making such prolonged eye contact with anyone, especially not a female and an Auror. The thought of Newt choosing an American Auror over him, particularly after the many quarrels between him and Newt about the profession, leaves Theseus feeling a pinch of unnecessary bitterness.

No, not now, he reminds himself; this isn’t about you; it’s about Newt for once. Stop being so selfish.

But Theseus recalls the time that Newt said he wasn’t a good brother at all. It was childish, and both were saying things they didn’t mean. But both brothers knew he had crossed the line - they may have far too many disagreements with their affiliations, but their relationships were always something they never touched. He apologised and said he didn’t mean it like he always does. Yet Theseus could still feel the sting decades later.

For once, he’s the one that can’t make eye contact with his brother.

The dinner was fine until Mr Scamander mentioned how Theseus was still companionless.

“Theseus,” his father started, and Theseus lifted his head from his food in surprise at his name being mentioned for the first time that night. A sigh left the oldest Scamander’s lips, “We can’t have our older Scamander walking around single, can we? You’re already in your 40’s, for Merlin’s sake.” Theseus, as always, stiffly but casually dismisses his father. “I just haven’t found the right one yet.”

“Oh, but Thee, even Newt is engaged,” his mother dramatically huffs, clearly wanting to see her children get wed. Theseus looked in Newt’s direction, and Newt responded with an awkward smile. Theseus could only wave his hand in disregard: “Newt’s grown up a lot, mum. Unfortunately, he surpassed me when it comes to finding a lifetime lover.”

“But with this job,” Theseus continued, “I have to stay at the Ministry too much. Plus, I think the Ministry’s trying to push the Head of Magical Law Enforcement title on me since Mr Travers is…well, not known for his competent personality. And you know that’s far more than just being the Head of the Auror Department, especially at a time like this.”

His mother only looked disapproved. “Newt travels so much; we don’t even know his location most of the time!” She stops to turn to Newt, whose ears turn a soft shade of pink. “Yet he’s engaged to an American Auror. What are you waiting for: an American magizoologist?” It’s Theseus’ turn to be embarrassed as he groans under his breath at the comparison. Does he look like he wants to interact with more dragons and kelpies?!

“But what about Leta?” Tina speaks up in the conversation for the first time, and Theseus can only weakly glare at her, which takes her aback. Both the Scamander parents have intense dazes on Theseus, and Newt’s eyes are only screaming apologises to him. Not that it means anything anymore. “You were dating Leta?!” his mother practically yelled, “I hope it wasn’t the Lestrange.” There was no disgust in her voice, but the disappointment was thicker than Traver’s stack of untouched paperwork on his desk. And that’s saying something.

“What was between Leta and I is none of your business.” Theseus’ words come out harsher than he intended, but he wasn’t planning on having this conversation right now. At this point, he wasn’t sure if it was directed at his parents or Tina.

“You were snogging over the Lestrange. For one, you didn’t tell us. But secondly, we thought you were better than that, Theseus Scamander.” The strictness in his father’s voice makes him internally wince a little. “What’s wrong with Leta?” Theseus asks though it’s more of a threat if anything. His father stands up abruptly, causing Theseus, Newt and Tina to flinch.

“You know exactly what’s wrong with dating Leta,” his father reprimanded, “She was your brother’s first. That’s highly inappropriate of you, Theseus.” Theseus breaks away from his father’s eye contact to briefly scan over Newt. He could tell he was feeling guilty, but now wasn’t the place where Theseus could comfort him. He returned his focus to his father. “Am I not allowed to love who I want to love? What happened to ‘finding the right one’? What if Leta was the right one? What were you going to do about that?”

This time, it was his mother who spoke up. “Then you shouldn’t have tried to get her in the first place. You should have known who was off-limits. We thought you knew better.” Theseus could feel his blood starting to boil, but he tried to remain calm and keep a straight face as his mother continued to ramble. “You betrayed the Ministry’s trust to fight in a Muggle war, and came back a hero. Only to go after the Lestrange?! You had the morals to protect even the non-wizards, yet you didn’t have the morals to go after your brother’s ex?”

“You don’t know what happened between me and Leta, Mum!” Theseus defensively resorted. He could feel himself losing his temper with every new word. Activate ‘Head Auror’ mode, he tells himself. A switch he couldn’t reach right now because this was far too personal. “We don’t, but we don’t need to know what happened to know that it was highly improper of you!” his father states, his voice significantly raised by the end. 

“Is that what you expected from me? To be the perfect son? Free from any mistakes?”

“No,” his father calmly but steadily answers, “We just wanted you to be a good example to your brother.”

“What about my happiness, dad? As long as Newt looked up to me and I did well in school, everything would be fine? Am I not allowed to fall in love?” “Oh it’s not like that, Theseus…” his mother’s voice was now softer, almost forgiving. “But you should know what you shouldn’t do. You’re the follower of rules here, Theseus.”

“There are no rules when it comes to love, mum! Weren’t you the one that told us that? Surely you aren’t backing out on your own preaches?” Theseus almost hates how mockingly the last part came out, but a voice in his head tells him it’s the right move. “I even got bloody engaged with her. But you wouldn’t know that because I knew you would all react like this!”

“Thee…” Newt’s soft-spoken voice speaks for the first time. “You didn’t tell them about the wedding?”

“Theseus Scamander.” Their father’s voice goes dangerously low, and Theseus can see how Newt instantly regrets his words. “There was a wedding, and you didn’t tell us about it?!”

“Well, it never happened, and it will never bloody will! Because she’s dead! She’s dead!” Theseus loses his temper as he finally shouts out. “Theseus, we thought you knew better than to hide secrets from us. Even Newt doesn’t do that anymore,” his mother tries to calm him down, to no effect. “Shut up! Shut up!” He suddenly stands up and storms off upstairs. The table shares hesitant glances at one another as the echo of a door slamming shut bounces off the walls of the Scamander household.

Theseus clenches his wand in his hand as he summons his briefcase. He wasn’t planning on pulling a Newt today - let alone talk about the unsaid relationship - but he couldn’t stay within these walls anymore.

Is this what Newt felt? He asks himself. Did Newt feel like the air had become suffocated and the walls had begun to close in too much?

Before all his items have been stored in his briefcase, he hears a knock at the door - two solid knocks. A second ahead of Theseus, he hears Newt’s voice say, “Alohomora,” and the door creaks open. He resists the urge to frown and lets out a heavy sigh as Newt’s figure appears. In Newt’s fashion, he stays still, not trying to close the gap between the brothers. Instead, he watches the items float into his brother’s briefcase, and it locks itself up afterwards. Theseus lets out another sigh, not wanting to let his emotions bubble over again but also knowing that he was going to have to be the one to speak up.

“Newt, are you alright?” “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you?” Theseus smiles a little, knowing that Newt is doing his best to be concerned. “I’m alright, Newt. But I’ll get going - I don’t think I’m welcome here for this dinner.” He feels Newt slowly approaching like Theseus is a demiguise that needs to be caught. Newt stops an arm’s distance away and continues to avoid eye contact. “Thee, you know me and Leta...” “Were never together,” Theseus finished Newt with a sign, “I know, I know. And by the way, tell Tina that it’s not her fault that our parents and I fought. She didn’t know. If anything, it’s mine.” Newt slightly nods and returns to the awkward Newt posture he’s always in.

Theseus picks up his suitcase and approaches Newt. He pats his shoulder before telling him, “I’ll be off now, Newt. Please tell dad and mum that we can talk about this…sometime in the future.”

“Wait,” Newt calls nearly noiselessly, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I will be, Newt. Don’t worry about me, I’ll have it under control. You should go back down and continue eating dinner alongside Tina. Surely she’s feeling a little out-of-place there without you.” Theseus grins for the first time that night as Newt’s face turns pink from embarrassment. The older brother almost disapparates before he remembers. “Oh right, come ‘ere, Newt.” He throws his arms around Newt and holds him tighter than usual.

“Thank you for being the better son now,” Theseus whispers. He can see that Newt’s about to speak up when they break it up, but he disapparates before he can hear what he says.

Instead of apparating back home in the middle of London, he finds himself in his office at the Ministry. He tiredly makes his way to his chair and stares at the paperwork below him. They were still trying to catch Grindelwald’s tail - not easy when his goal to conquer the world means he’ll be in places far beyond Europe. But his mind wasn’t on Grindelwald’s capture right now, as much as it should be. Theseus turns his head to look at the shelf against the furthermost wall of his office. He stands up and approaches a moving picture of the Scamander family.

Newt was only two at the time, and he was ten. The family looked happily at one another as Newt was slightly wobbling while trying to walk away. His father was ruffling his hair as his mother eventually picked Newt up and kissed him on the nose.

But now, he’s the outcast of the family, a supposed backstabber to his parents’ trust. And he knew he wasn’t going to get it back as long as the relationship remained a sour subject to them and Leta’s death remained a sour subject to him.

You’re so, so selfish - the voice finally speaks up after the conversation - and so, so alone.

(Theseus swears he didn’t stay in the office all night, crying himself to sleep on his desk for the first time in a long time. Theseus swears he didn’t just stay because the house suddenly felt too big again, too big for just one person after Leta’s gone. Theseus swears he’s not resentful against anyone and that he didn’t cast the locking charm and the anti-alohomora charm on his door in fear that someone would see him in this state.