Fic: Time To Take A Ride
Title: Time To Take A Ride
Summary: Newt is not fan of beaches and sunshine in general. But the mysterious bartender looks somewhat familiar...
Characters/Pairings: Newt Scamander, Percival Graves
Genre: Gen
Rating/Warnings: PG
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 1026
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Yes
If yes, your Tumblr username: monkiainen
Notes: For hp_drizzle
For the record, Newt was not a fan of heat and sunshine. And yet there he was, on a bloody beach somewhere in Australia because a herd of Ramoras had needed his help. Well, not particularly his, but still. Newt was after all a renowned Magizoologist, and ever since his book had been published he had been getting inquiries for help from all over the world. Thus, Newt was currently in Australia, feeling hot and miserable.
At least the Ramoras were safe and sound.
His local guide, a young witch called Heliotrope Entwhistle, thought that Newt was just being amusing - the weather was just lovely, and Newt should really try to enjoy it the fullest before returning to England! Newt had discovered that Heliotrope seldom took "no" for an answer, so Newt had done his best to avoid her company as much as possible. Which had led to his current situation - a hot beach somewhere in Australia.
There really wasn't anything Newt could do - his ship didn't leave until the next morning, so he just had to make do what he could with the location he was currently in. At least it was the Wizarding Beach and not the Muggle one. But it was still a beach, filled with sand and intolerable heat, which only reminded him of Sudan. And Sudan wasn't exactly a place filled with happy memories.
Maybe a little walk would do him good.
In the distance, Newt spotted something that looked like one of those beach bars. Bars… weren't really his thing, but at least it would a place he could get something to drink. If he was lucky they might even have Butterbeer or Pumpin Juice in their selection.
As Newt got closer and closer to the bar, he realised there was something very familiar in the bartender. The bartender almost looked like Percival Graves - but it couldn't be, could it? What would head of MACUSA's Department of Magical Law Enforcement do in a place like this? To be fair, Newt had no idea if Graves still worked for MACUSA at all - he had only heard from Tina that the other man had been found alive quite sometime after Grindelwald's capture. It could simply be that Graves had left MACUSA because of Grindelwald.
Or the bartender could just be a Graves look-alike.
Newt made his way to the bar counter, his curiosity taking over. There was really no other way for him to find out the identity of the bartender, right? And truthfully speaking, before Newt had realised the Graves he had first met in New York wasn't really Graves at all, he had been drawn to the other man. So if the bartender really was Graves, maybe Newt could find out if his attraction in the past had really been about Graves and not the man pretending to be him. Because it was already alarming that even Albus Dumbledore wasn't immune to Grindelwald's charms - and Newt really considered Albus Dumbledore as one of the great wizards of their time.
Well. Time to face the truth so to speak. Only, Newt wasn't quite sure if this was a good idea after all. What if the bartender really was Graves? Would he be irritated if Newt showed up and started asking questions about things Graves would probably want to forget?
"Hello, sir. What would you like to get?"
Oh no. What should he do? What should he say? Why he had thought this was a good idea at all? Why…
"Here, take this."
A glass filled with something brightly coloured and sweetly smelling was pushed in front of Newt. After a moment's hesitation, Newt sniffed the drink cautiously, not sensing anything malicious. Maybe if he would just take a little sip, it couldn't harm him, right? Except that some poisons only needed a small amount to kill someone one and…
"I assure you, it's only strawberry orange juice with a dash of Calming Draught. You look like you needed it, Mr. Scamander."
Oh. And now Newt really felt stupid.
The juice really tasted good, and as the bartender had said, there was some Calming Draught mixed in it. Soon Newt could feel his nervousness relinquishing, and for the first time since he had sat down at the bar, he could take a closer look at the mysterious bartender. Who did look a lot like Percival Graved and had just called him by his name without Newt even introducing himself.
"Hope you don't mind me asking, but… how did you know my name? I don't remember meeting you before", Newt said tentatively, waiting for an answer.
"I think you have already figured it out, Mr. Scamander. After all, you are the one who saved my life, although not directly. But for the sake of good manners, let me introduce myself. Percival Graves, former head of MACUSA's Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the current owner of "Freedom", the best Wizarding beach bar on this side of Australia."
So it was Graves, as Newt had suspected. But…
"Look, I know you have a lot of questions, and I might have some answers for you, but I'd rather not spend the night talking about them. I've been wanting to… express my gratitude to you for quite some time, and when I discovered you were going to be here for the Ramora situation I was hoping we could meet. I admit asking Heliotrope to help me with this meeting - I wasn't quite sure if you were willing to meet a man whose face was worn by a maniac. But now that you're here, Mr. Scamander, perhaps we could…. enjoy each other's company with some good drinks along the way?" Graves explained, a hint of uncertainty masking his words.
It was tempting, yes, to stay here on the beach, talking to the real Graves. But…
Pickett chose that moment to climb out of Newt's pocket, poking Newt with his fingers. Fine. Point taken. Maybe Newt should just go with the flow, and spend a pleasurable evening before going back home. It wouldn't hurt him, would it?
"Yes, I will stay."
Summary: Newt is not fan of beaches and sunshine in general. But the mysterious bartender looks somewhat familiar...
Characters/Pairings: Newt Scamander, Percival Graves
Genre: Gen
Rating/Warnings: PG
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 1026
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Yes
If yes, your Tumblr username: monkiainen
Notes: For hp_drizzle
For the record, Newt was not a fan of heat and sunshine. And yet there he was, on a bloody beach somewhere in Australia because a herd of Ramoras had needed his help. Well, not particularly his, but still. Newt was after all a renowned Magizoologist, and ever since his book had been published he had been getting inquiries for help from all over the world. Thus, Newt was currently in Australia, feeling hot and miserable.
At least the Ramoras were safe and sound.
His local guide, a young witch called Heliotrope Entwhistle, thought that Newt was just being amusing - the weather was just lovely, and Newt should really try to enjoy it the fullest before returning to England! Newt had discovered that Heliotrope seldom took "no" for an answer, so Newt had done his best to avoid her company as much as possible. Which had led to his current situation - a hot beach somewhere in Australia.
There really wasn't anything Newt could do - his ship didn't leave until the next morning, so he just had to make do what he could with the location he was currently in. At least it was the Wizarding Beach and not the Muggle one. But it was still a beach, filled with sand and intolerable heat, which only reminded him of Sudan. And Sudan wasn't exactly a place filled with happy memories.
Maybe a little walk would do him good.
In the distance, Newt spotted something that looked like one of those beach bars. Bars… weren't really his thing, but at least it would a place he could get something to drink. If he was lucky they might even have Butterbeer or Pumpin Juice in their selection.
As Newt got closer and closer to the bar, he realised there was something very familiar in the bartender. The bartender almost looked like Percival Graves - but it couldn't be, could it? What would head of MACUSA's Department of Magical Law Enforcement do in a place like this? To be fair, Newt had no idea if Graves still worked for MACUSA at all - he had only heard from Tina that the other man had been found alive quite sometime after Grindelwald's capture. It could simply be that Graves had left MACUSA because of Grindelwald.
Or the bartender could just be a Graves look-alike.
Newt made his way to the bar counter, his curiosity taking over. There was really no other way for him to find out the identity of the bartender, right? And truthfully speaking, before Newt had realised the Graves he had first met in New York wasn't really Graves at all, he had been drawn to the other man. So if the bartender really was Graves, maybe Newt could find out if his attraction in the past had really been about Graves and not the man pretending to be him. Because it was already alarming that even Albus Dumbledore wasn't immune to Grindelwald's charms - and Newt really considered Albus Dumbledore as one of the great wizards of their time.
Well. Time to face the truth so to speak. Only, Newt wasn't quite sure if this was a good idea after all. What if the bartender really was Graves? Would he be irritated if Newt showed up and started asking questions about things Graves would probably want to forget?
"Hello, sir. What would you like to get?"
Oh no. What should he do? What should he say? Why he had thought this was a good idea at all? Why…
"Here, take this."
A glass filled with something brightly coloured and sweetly smelling was pushed in front of Newt. After a moment's hesitation, Newt sniffed the drink cautiously, not sensing anything malicious. Maybe if he would just take a little sip, it couldn't harm him, right? Except that some poisons only needed a small amount to kill someone one and…
"I assure you, it's only strawberry orange juice with a dash of Calming Draught. You look like you needed it, Mr. Scamander."
Oh. And now Newt really felt stupid.
The juice really tasted good, and as the bartender had said, there was some Calming Draught mixed in it. Soon Newt could feel his nervousness relinquishing, and for the first time since he had sat down at the bar, he could take a closer look at the mysterious bartender. Who did look a lot like Percival Graved and had just called him by his name without Newt even introducing himself.
"Hope you don't mind me asking, but… how did you know my name? I don't remember meeting you before", Newt said tentatively, waiting for an answer.
"I think you have already figured it out, Mr. Scamander. After all, you are the one who saved my life, although not directly. But for the sake of good manners, let me introduce myself. Percival Graves, former head of MACUSA's Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the current owner of "Freedom", the best Wizarding beach bar on this side of Australia."
So it was Graves, as Newt had suspected. But…
"Look, I know you have a lot of questions, and I might have some answers for you, but I'd rather not spend the night talking about them. I've been wanting to… express my gratitude to you for quite some time, and when I discovered you were going to be here for the Ramora situation I was hoping we could meet. I admit asking Heliotrope to help me with this meeting - I wasn't quite sure if you were willing to meet a man whose face was worn by a maniac. But now that you're here, Mr. Scamander, perhaps we could…. enjoy each other's company with some good drinks along the way?" Graves explained, a hint of uncertainty masking his words.
It was tempting, yes, to stay here on the beach, talking to the real Graves. But…
Pickett chose that moment to climb out of Newt's pocket, poking Newt with his fingers. Fine. Point taken. Maybe Newt should just go with the flow, and spend a pleasurable evening before going back home. It wouldn't hurt him, would it?
"Yes, I will stay."