Wizarding World One Shots (Discontinued)

grindelwald x NEWT scamander pt2

1. 

Theseus stared blankly at the ground, the cool air a soothing balm against his skin after the scorching heat of the Fiendfyre. But it was a sensation that the auror barely registered. Despite the ancient magic that he’d just performed, despite the feeling of pure, unadulterated power that rushed through him as he dug his wand into the earth, Theseus could only collapse onto the steps of one of the tombs, his mind still reeling from what happened in the rally.

Everything had occurred so quickly, his auror had killed a child reflexively, driving the masses straight into Grindelwald’s arms as the man gently arranged the dead child's corpse, whispering fluttering niceties that Theseus knew were a part of his plan. And then the wizard had burned the area with azure flames, and people had started burning and disintegrating in the Fiendfyre, many good men trying to escape, their efforts futile as the Dark Lord caught them and eradicated them with a simple flick of his wand. Theseus could still hear their echoing screams from being burned alive ringing in his ears. But all of that was akin to background noise in light of the one thing he’d never – in a million years – thought would happen.

Newt had gone with Grindelwald.

Newt, his little brother, had faced Grindelwald and left. With him.

He felt a lump sit in his throat. The memory of Newt reaching out to take Grindelwald’s hand replaying itself over and over again in his mind. He’d been struck with fear when Grindelwald had appeared behind his little brother, remembering with sudden clarity that Newt had been the one to reveal the wizard in New York, had directly contributed to the man’s capture and imprisonment. The fear had seized his lungs then, and he had tried his best to get through the Fiendfyre but the spell proved far too strong for him to defeat. He’d been afraid, he’d been so, so afraid that he would be getting a front row view of his brother’s death. It was something he was always afraid of, that Newt would be a target just for being related to him, never mind that his brother had shored up his own fair share of enemies who would love to see him dead.

Never in a million years did he think that Newt would follow the Dark Lord.

Theseus buried his face in his hands, a sob escaping him. Where had he gone wrong? He had tried, hadn’t he? He had tried to understand Newt, but Newt was an enigma and a paradox mixed together and it was just so hard to connect with him. But he’d tried. Hadn’t he? He’d done his best to be the older brother Newt needed.

Hadn’t he?

Theseus felt a hand drop onto his shoulder. He lifted his head, meeting Leta’s dark, soulful eyes.

“He’s gone.” He whispered, his voice breaking.

Leta’s face crumpled as well, and she crouched down,wrapping her arms around Theseus as she pressed her forehead against his temple.

Theseus squeezed his eyes shut again, his entire body trembling. “I didn’t think – after what happened in New York, I thought – Newt wouldn’t have gone with Grindelwald. Not willingly. I don’t believe it.”

“Theseus,” Leta whispered, her own composure breaking. “You know how charming Grindelwald can be –”

“This is Newt we’re talking about Leta!” Theseus shouted, wrenching himself away from her, his eyes red-rimmed, “This is my little brother we’re talking about. He loathes violence with a passion and he hates picking a side. He would never –”, his voice faltered slightly, falling to a whisper, “He would never pick Grindelwald’s.”

But how sure could he be? Before tonight, he’d assumed that he and Newt would never be on opposite sides when it truly mattered. And yet… How well did he really know his brother? He knew that Newt loved his creatures like they were his own children, he knew that Newt traveled across the globe to free these same creatures from poachers and smugglers alike. He knew that Newt was writing – had written and published a creature guide. But what exactly did he know about Newt?