Chapter Text
...
Gellert was bored. It was a common feeling, these days. Nothing seemed to hold his interest for long. The meetings with his followers were a monotonous routine, the politics of the war effort were tiresome, and the endless stream of correspondence was mind-numbing.
There was nothing new, nothing interesting. It was all the same, day after day. Gellert sighed and rubbed his eyes, exhaustion settling in his bones. Too many things needed his attention. He needed a distraction, something to take his mind off things, something to occupy his thoughts.
Then, a name caught his eye. Scamander, the name was somewhat familiar to him. If he remembered correctly, the family was traditionally a Dark Familily only recently turning their favor to neutrality. The last Scamander that had shown any promise had been Theseus. An auror and a war hero during the Great War. Gellert didn't have the pleasure of seeing him on the battlefield however.
This name was different, Newton Fido Scamander. It had a more unusual ring to it, almost comical. Perhaps his mother was a muggle, a witch marrying a muggle, though uncommon was not unheard of. The age put him at four years younger than the War Hero.
Gellert decided to see what the young Scamander was doing that warranted his name appearing on the Romanian Ministry of Magic's Most Wanted List. The first few sentences were rather mundane, a simple list of charges against the younger Scamander.
Then, something caught his eye. Scamander was suspected of harboring a dangerous magical creature. Gellert raised an eyebrow, most likely an unregistered beast. It wasn't that big of a deal. Many people became poachers of magical creatures. They were useful in potion ingredients after all.
This however seemed different from the poachers he knew of. There was no mention of an actual creature. Only speculation and rumors. That was unusual. Poachers were not known for being subtle or discreet.
So, Gellert went down the list of crimes. Illegal transportation of an undocumented creature across borders. Another vague charge, but one that made Gellert's interest pique. It implied that whatever the creature was, it wasn't native to Romania.
Gellert continued reading. Illegal entry into a restricted area. This one made Gellert chuckle. This Scamander it seemed was nothing like the War Hero. The Scamander Gellert had fought was known for his sense of honor and duty. Always following the rules and regulations to the letter.
This Scamander however, had no such qualms. He had broken several laws and regulations, and had no remorse about it. Gellert smirked. Perhaps this was the distraction he had been looking for. Someone different, someone who didn't play by the rules. Someone interesting.
Gellert looked over the rest of the file, taking note of the various charges and infractions. The last item was the most intriguing. Scamander was accused of harboring an obscurial. Obscurials were extremely rare. From what Gellert understood about the creatures they never made it to the age of 11. The amount of power they had and the instability of it would kill them within a year or two.
Maybe the Scamander was helping them learn to control their power. If that was the case, Gellert could see the appeal of keeping the child hidden and protected. The Ministry would do nothing but destroy the poor creature.
Gellert set the file down and leaned back in his chair. He had some thinking to do. Scamander had been last spotted in Bulgaria and was most likely heading towards Greece. Gellert had contacts and people in place in both countries. He would need to have them be on the look out for his latest interest.
...
Newton Fido Scamander was proving to be more elusive than Gellert had originally thought. The younger man was smart, and kept a low profile. He didn't attract much attention, and when he did, he was able to disappear quickly.
The few times his followers had seen him, he had been travelling alone. There was no sign of the alleged obscurus, and Gellert was beginning to wonder if he was wasting his time.
But then, a report came in from Bulgaria. It seemed that the young Scamander had been seen traveling with a large group of nomadic muggles. Gellert had ordered his people to keep an eye on the young man. To observe and not interfere.
Two weeks later they were found out and apparently Scamander did not take kindly to surveillance. There had been a skirmish, several of his men were injured severely. While they survived they were unconscious and unable to tell Gellert what happened.
Gellert sighed, his head throbbing. He was running out of patience. This Scamander was becoming more and more intriguing. It was like a game of cat and mouse, and Gellert was determined to be the cat.
"My lord," called the voice of his most loyal and faithful follower.
"Vinda," Gellert greeted as he looked up from the report. "What do you have for me?"
"It seems that the Scamander has been sighted in the mountains of Macedonia," Vinda informed him.
"Good," Gellert said, a smirk forming on his lips. "It's about time. Have you sent out the orders?"
"Of course, my lord," Vinda replied.
"Excellent," Gellert said. "Now, we wait."
"Yes, my lord," Vinda said before bowing and leaving the room.
Gellert leaned back in his chair, a pleased expression on his face. Finally, he was going to meet his prey.
...
The mountain was cold and windy, the weather not ideal for a person to be climbing. Newt however kept pushing forward. He knew he was being followed, had known for weeks. The last encounter with the people following him had been a bad one. Several had been badly injured and the muggles he was with had scattered.
He was losing control more often now, and it scared him. He was losing his grip on his sanity. The darkness inside of him was growing, threatening to consume him. He didn't know what to do.
He needed help, but who would help him? No one knew what he was. Obscurials were nothing more than fantasies to the Wizarding World now. Nothing but mere rumors. Part of the reason for this was because an obscurial didn't normally make it to the age of 11. They would lose control and die, their body consumed by the magical energy they had absorbed.
Newt was lucky, he had managed to survive for 21 years. But he was tired. Tired of running, tired of hiding. He didn't know how much longer he could go on.
As he climbed, he felt the darkness growing stronger. His breathing was labored, his lungs burning with each breath. He was exhausted, his body worn out from the climb and the constant use of his magic.
"Scamander!" came a call from behind him.
Newt ignored it, continuing his climb. The mountain was steep and treacherous, the rocks loose and unstable.
"You can't run forever," the voice called again, closer this time.
Try me. Newt thought as he pushed himself up the side of the mountain.
"We just want to talk," the voice said, sounding closer still.
Lies. They would kill him, or worse. No, Newt would continue to run and escape just as he always did. He was good at running and hiding.
The rocks shifted beneath his feet, and he lost his footing. His body fell forward, tumbling down the side of the mountain.
"Scamander!" Came the voice again but Newt felt a pang of fear.
They knew his name. This wasn't some random encounter. No, they were hunting him.
A hand grabbed him by the back of his coat, halting his descent. He struggled against the grip, trying to break free.
"Hold still," came a voice from above him, "You won't survive that kind of fall, Mr. Scamander. I can't have that, now can I?"
Newt continued to struggle, but the grip was strong and unyielding. One of his hands tightened around the handle of his case. This person must be here for his case.
"Let me go," Newt said, his voice coming out weaker than he had hoped.
"Not until we have a little chat," the voice said, and Newt could hear the amusement in the tone.
"There's nothing to talk about," Newt said. "Now, let me go."
Instead of letting him go, the person slowly began to pull him up. The hand gripping his coat was rough and strong. Newt continued to struggle, trying to break free. But the person was too strong and Newt's own strength was fading.
"There now," the voice said, and Newt found himself being pulled to his feet, "That wasn't so hard, was it?"
The grip turned from his collar to his shoulders almost as if steadying him. Newt's breath hitched in his throat. He turned breaking grip to see who had ahold of him. Fear weighed heavily in his stomach as he realized who it was.
Standing before him was none other than the Dark Lord, Gellert Grindelwald. Newt stumbled backwards, his body tense and his hands balled into fists. Black wisps began to roll off of him.
No. Not now. He thought desperately. Anytime but right now.
"Now, now," Grindelwald said, his tone calm and collected. "Let's not get excited. We're just here to talk, Mr. Scamander."
The black tendrils continued to roll off of him uncaring of what he thought. They fought Newt's every effort to force control. Thankfully the Dark Lord hadn't noticed the smoke yet.
"Talk?" Newt managed to ask, his voice trembling slightly. "About what?"
"About you," Grindelwald said. "I've been hearing quite a bit about you. You've caused quite a stir, Mr. Scamander."
"I've done nothing wrong," Newt said, his body shaking with the effort of maintaining control.
"Nothing wrong?" Grindelwald asked incredulously, "You've been charged with multiple counts of illegal possession and transport of a magical creature. And you're currently suspected of harboring an obscurus."
Fuck. So there were rumors. Half true rumors but rumors nevertheless. It was probably what had drawn Grindelwald's attention. Newt cursed his luck and wondered how he would escape this one.
"I'm a magizoologist," Newt stated defending himself. "It's my job to rescue and protect creatures."
"Magizoologist?" Questioned Grindelwald and he sounded almost curious.
Newt looked around for a way to escape. Grindelwald stood between him and the path down the mountain. There was no way he would be able to get past him without a fight. Something he desperately wanted to avoid.
"Yes," Newt answered not willing to go any further. "Why are you here?"
"I told you," Grindelwald replied, a hint of a smile on his lips, "I'm here to talk."
"Then talk," Newt barked, his mind racing as he tried to figure out a way to escape.
His obscurial lunged within him and Newt bit back a cry. It was growing stronger and soon would force his transformation. There wasn't much time left. He had to get away.
Grindelwald studied him, his gaze intense and calculating. Newt fought the urge to shrink back under the scrutiny. He had to appear strong and in control, even though he was anything but. Grindelwald could not find out about what he was. No one could.
"I have a proposition for you, Mr. Scamander," Grindelwald finally said. "I'm sure you're aware of my goals and plans. I could use someone with your unique talents."
Newt stared at him in disbelief. Was the Dark Lord really asking him to join his ranks? Newt didn't have the stomach for violence and bloodshed. The thought of using his beasts in such a way turned his stomach.
"No," Newt replied firmly.
"No?" Grindelwald asked.
"No," Newt confirmed.
"I think you should reconsider," Grindelwald said, his eyes narrowing.
"I don't care," Newt replied, his body starting to tremble as the energy built inside him. "I'm not joining your cause."
It was going to explode. There was no stopping it at this point. His obscurial lunged like a wild animal and smoke escaped in large amounts. Grindelwald's eyes widened as the smoke grew denser and the temperature began to drop.
Newt took advantage of the Dark Lord's surprise and turned. He bolted up the side of the mountain. He had to get away. He couldn't let Grindelwald see him transform. If he did, Newt was as good as dead.
"Scamander!" Grindelwald yelled.
Newt ignored him. The mountain was steep and the terrain difficult. His footing was unsteady and his movements clumsy. His obscurial was struggling to get out, and Newt could feel his control slipping.
"Scamander, stop!" Grindelwald yelled.
But Newt was beyond hearing. His obscurial was raging, and Newt was losing his grip. The energy inside him was too strong, too powerful. He couldn't hold it back any longer. His body exploded into the wispy smoke and his case dropped.
...
Gellert watched as the young man was enveloped in a cloud of black smoke. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before. The temperature was dropping rapidly, and Gellert could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The air was magically charged, the energy almost tangible.
Gellert took a step back, his eyes never leaving the swirling cloud of smoke. The energy inside it was immense. He could feel the power radiating from it. The sheer intensity of it made his skin crawl.
"Impossible," Gellert whispered.
Obscurials didn't make it so long. They died by the age of 11. How then was this man not only alive, but well and thriving? It didn't make any sense.
"Scamander?" Gellert asked, not sure if the man could even hear him.
The cloud didn't respond, continuing to swirl around itself. The wind was picking up, whipping the smoke into a frenzy. Gellert stood his ground. He kept his body language relaxed not wanting to provoke an attack.
"Scamander," Gellert tried again. "Can you hear me?"
Still no response. Gellert took a cautious step forward. The smoke whipped around him, but there was no sign of an attack. Gellert took another step forward. The cloud swirled around him, almost curiously.
"Newton," Gellert said, hoping that using the man's first name would get a reaction.
He received a reaction but not the one he was hoping for. The smoke seemed to become agitated, whipping around even faster. Gellert could feel the tension in the air, the magic becoming more and more volatile. It was going to attack if he didn't try something else.
"Shh," Gellert soothed, reaching out a hand. "It's alright."
The smoke paused, seeming to hesitate. Gellert slowly reached out, his fingers brushing the edge of the cloud. It was cold, the sensation almost like touching ice.
"There, now," Gellert murmured. "See, nothing to be afraid of."
He had not expected that to work. It was a gamble, an attempt to soothe the young man's anger and fear. Gellert didn't know how it would react. It had surprised him when the cloud had responded.
Gentle words seemed to be the way to go with this one. Gellert wondered if the young man had ever experienced kindness or understanding. Had he ever had anyone to lean on?
The smoke began to become agitated again, the wind picking up. Gellert felt his heart race just a little faster. The energy was building again, and the air was charged with magic. It was dangerous, and Gellert was unsure if he could defend himself.
"Easy, easy," Gellert crooned. "I'm not going to hurt you."
The wind continued to pick up, and the smoke swirled around him. Gellert did not move, forward or back. He stayed absolutely still. He had no intention of provoking an attack.
"I know you're scared," Gellert continued in a soothing voice. "You've spent your whole life hiding. You don't have to do that anymore."
The wind was howling now, the smoke whipping around him. Gellert's hair and coat were blowing in the wind. The energy was becoming more and more volatile.
"I can help you," promised Gellert. "I can keep you safe."
The wind was deafening, and Gellert's words were carried away. He could feel the energy crackling in the air. It was like a thunderstorm, the charge of electricity. The smoke was growing darker, becoming a deep and foreboding black.
"You don't have to be afraid," Gellert shouted over the roar of the wind. "I will keep you safe."
The sound of the wind was almost painful. The pressure built to the point where it was practically impossible to move. The air was so thick, Gellert could hardly breathe. He could feel the energy crackling all around him, the hairs on his arms standing on end.
And then, it happened.
The energy released, a shock wave of pure magical power. It hit Gellert like a battering ram, knocking him off his feet. He flew backwards, his body tumbling down the mountainside. He hit the rocks and boulders, the pain blinding.
He remained conscious, but just barely. His vision was blurry, and his body ached. He could feel the cuts and bruises forming, the blood flowing from the wounds.
He lay there for a moment, stunned and in pain. He took a deep breath, trying to regain his bearings. The explosion had knocked him off his feet, but it hadn't killed him. That was something at least.
He pulled himself to his feet, his body protesting the movement. Injured but alive. He dusted himself off, his clothes ripped and torn.
"Scamander," he called, but there was no answer.
The smoke had disappeared, and so had the young man. Gellert sighed, a small smile on his lips.
"Well, it looks like the chase is on," he said to himself.