Jul 11
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So I warned you that TEMU-level FB boys happened.
Well, immediately after building, Percival existing set both brothers off. (It's okay guys, I understand. He's hot.) Newt kept getting distracted, mostly by the local animals, so Percy got to make a move on These first. However, once given the time to warm Newt up (I'm very mad, i thought i set them to partners, but APPARENTLY NOT), naturally, wild sex happens. Now Theseus is mad. I may have forgotten to turn off jealousy. Oh well. This is fine.
Theseus is just furious about the whole thing, but he's not ONCE taken it out on anyone. Instead, he goes to the bathroom mirror to talk himself down. It's pathetic and adorable. He's also a puddle boy like Sharp. If Percy tries to do the same, I'm gonna blame it on them being Aurors.
Oh right, oh, uh, the other lot, uhhhh Sharp got pregnant the day before Love Day and I'm at a loss. This is why you shouldn't fiddle with settings as a laugh.
he swaggy
Petition to make the ship name between Newt Scamander and Percival Graves be called "Pet Cemetery" 🙏
The Duel 1945 (Grindeldore)
World War II has come to an end, and the ICW and MACUSA's forces are advancing through Europe to bring an end to Gellert Grindelwald's reign of terror.
However, Gellert won't give up easily and attacks Allied-occupied Berlin in a desperate attempt to expose the wizarding world and incite war between wizards and Muggles. It is now up to his former lover, Albus Dumbledore, to stop him and preserve the peace.
Unfortunately, Albus can't prevent Gellert's dark visions of a future war between wizards and Muggles from coming true.
June 1945
The symbol of the Deathly Hallows hovered above Berlin for every Muggle and wizard to see. A blazing Thestral of Fiendfyre screamed across the city, burning entire buildings to the ground. Soldiers who had survived one war found themselves in another, one they could not understand. Gunfire rattled upward only to disappear in the flames.
“Get down! What the hell is that?!” an American soldier shouted.
A Soviet officer barked orders in Russian, but his words were drowned by a wave of living flame that consumed an entire barricade in seconds.
From the Reichstag steps, Gellert Grindelwald raised the Elder Wand.
“Kneel,” he said softly. “Kneel, and witness the end of your dominion.”
A volley of bullets screamed toward him. The Elder Wand flicked once, and the bullets froze midair, hung like raindrops, then reversed, tearing back through the soldiers who had fired them.
The Dark Wizard exhaled. “So predictable.”
A roar split the air behind him.
“Gellert!”
He closed his eyes for a moment, and then he turned to see Albus Dumbledore standing at the edge of the shattered plaza.
“Stop this,” Albus said. “End it. Now.”
“You came,” Gellert replied, almost gently. “Not your soldiers. Not your precious coalition. You.”
“I didn’t come as a general,” Dumbledore replied. “I came as the only one who can still reach you.”
A faint smile touched Gellert’s lips. “Still so certain of that.”
“Because I know you,” Albus said. “Better than anyone alive.”
“You knew me,” Gellert corrected quietly.
Albus took a step forward. “Then prove me wrong. Tell me this, this slaughter, this is not what we dreamed of.”
Gellert’s expression hardened.
“No,” he said. “This is what you were too weak to build.”
Albus shook his head. “We spoke of guiding the world. Not burning it.”
“Guiding?” Gellert laughed. “You still cling to that word? Look around you, Albus. Two world wars. Millions dead. And you would have us guide them?”
“They can change.”
“They won’t.”
“They must.”
“They cannot!” Gellert’s voice cracked like thunder, the flames around them surging higher. “They destroy everything they touch! And when they discover us, and they will, they will destroy us too.”
Albus shook his head.
“So you decided to become what you fear.”
Gellert stepped closer. “I decided to win.”
“At what cost?”
“At any cost.”
Silence fell between them, heavy and suffocating.
Then Albus spoke again but quieter.
“Do you remember Godric’s Hollow?”
Gellert froze.
“Summer 1899,” Albus continued. “The plans we made. The future we imagined.”
“Don’t, ” Gellert exclaimed.
“You said we would build a better world,” Albus said. “Together.”
“I am building it!”
“No,” Albus said firmly. “You’re destroying it.”
Gellert’s restraint snapped.
The Elder Wand slashed downward, and the duel began as the air exploded with magic.
Lightning, fire, force, and spells collided in blinding bursts that shattered stone and glass for blocks. Dumbledore moved like flowing water as he deflected, redirected, and countered every strike.
Gellert threw a Soviet tank at Albus, who evaporated it with ease.
“Still holding back,” Gellert taunted, circling him. “You always did.”
“I’m trying to save you!”
“I don’t want saving!”
A torrent of Fiendfyre surged forward, forming serpents, beasts, and screaming faces.
Albus raised both hands.
“Finite—!”
The flames split, diverted but not extinguished.
“They’re watching us, you know,” Gellert said, gesturing toward the city. “Wizards. Muggles. This is the moment everything changes.”
“Then let them see you stop,” Albus urged. “Let them see you choose differently.”
Gellert’s eyes gleamed.
“Too late for that.”
A blast slammed into Albus, sending him skidding over the stone of Gendarmenmarkt. His wand flew from his hand, clattering away.
Gellert advanced slowly, savoring the moment.
“So this is how it ends,” he said softly. “Just you… and me.”
Albus struggled to his feet, empty-handed.
“You can still walk away,” he said.
Gellert stopped a few paces away.
“Walk away?” he echoed. “After everything? After I’ve finally shown them the truth?”
He raised the Elder Wand.
“On your knees, Albus.”
Albus met his gaze. “No.”
Magic seized him and lifted him into the air, invisible force tightening around his throat and limbs.
Gellert stepped closer, voice almost a whisper.
“I didn’t want to kill you.”
“And yet,” Dumbledore rasped, “here we are.”
Gellert’s expression flickered with pain, buried deep.
“You should have stood with me.”
“I did,” Albus said. “Once. Then you chose power over people.”
“And you chose fear over greatness.”
Albus’s eyes sharpened.
“No,” he said. “I chose right over easy.”
Gellert’s grip tightened. “Goodbye, Albus.”
Albus’s hand twitched.
A fallen Soviet rifle began to rattle. The bayonet fixed to its end tore free, flying through the air and drove straight into Grindelwald’s hip. He screamed in agony, causing his binding spell to shatter.
Albus dropped hard to the ground, gasping.
The Elder Wand slipped from Gellert’s grasp, clattering across the stone. For a moment, neither moved. Then Dumbledore reached it first.
Gellert knelt, clutching his wound. Albus stood over him with the Elder Wand in his hand. Their eyes met.
“No,” Gellert said hoarsely. “Don’t… don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m already gone.”
Albus hesitated. Then, quietly, he pointed the wand.
“Episkey.”
The wound closed.
Gellert blinked, stunned.
“You healed me?” he whispered.
“I won’t let you die like this,” Albus said.
“Mercy?” Gellert laughed weakly. “From you?”
“Not mercy,” Dumbledore replied. “Responsibility.”
Chains of light erupted, binding Gellert where he knelt.
Gellert didn’t resist. Instead, he smiled.
Aurors flooded the square with their wands raised. Percival Graves, now head of the International Wizarding Task Force, stepped forward to arrest the same tyrant who had impersonated him nearly two decades ago.
“It’s over,” Percival announced.
Gellert laughed softly.
“No,” he said. “It’s just begun. “They’ve seen us, Percival. Your precious 'No-Maj'. You can't erase what has already happened. ”
Albus turned away from them and raised the Elder Wand.
He closed his eyes. “Obliviate.”
A wave of magic spread outward, washing over Berlin as memories dissolved, screams faded, and understanding vanished.
When Albus opened his eyes again, the city was just a city: A ruined one, but ordinary.
“You can erase memories,” Gellert exclaimed. “You can hide the truth for a while, but not forever.”
“A while is enough,” Albus said quietly.
Gellert’s smile widened.
“No,” he said. “It isn’t. They will discover you. And when they do… they will fear you.”
“They may.”
“They will hunt you.”
“Or learn,” Albus countered.
Gellert’s eyes flashed. “You still believe that?”
“I have to.”
Gellert shook his head slowly.
“You are still the same foolish boy I loved.”
Albus flinched but only slightly.
“And you,” he said, “are still the same brilliant boy who lost his way.”
“You’ve bought yourself time,” he said. “Nothing more.”
Albus did not turn.
“I know.”
“And when that time runs out?”
Albus looked out over Berlin.
“Then we face it,” he said. “Together or not at all.”
Gellert smiled faintly as the Aurors took him.
“We shall see, Albus. We shall see what the future holds.”
All around them, Muggles moved in a daze. A British soldier blinked at his rifle, frowning.
“Thought… thought there was something—” he muttered, then shook his head. “Never mind.”
A Soviet medic stepped over scorched stone, pausing briefly as if grasping for a memory. There were no screams and no panic. Only confusion remained.
Percival stood motionless, watching it all unfold. His eyes tracked a group of American soldiers who walked straight past the blackened imprint of Fiendfyre on the street as though it were nothing more than bomb damage.
“…Impossible,” he said under his breath. Behind him, Aurors kept restraining Gellert through another layer of magical chains. The fallen dark wizard said nothing now.
Percival turned slowly to Albus.
“What did you do?” he asked, voice low but edged with disbelief.
“They will remember the war,” Albus said calmly. “The bombs. The soldiers. The suffering.”
Percival frowned. “And the rest?”
Albus met his gaze.
“They will remember nothing of us.”
Percival stared at him.
“You’re telling me…” he began, then stopped, searching for the right words. “Every No-Maj in this city? Every soldier? Every civilian?”
Albus inclined his head slightly.
“Yes.”
Percival let out a breath, almost a laugh but there was no humor in it.
“That’s… that’s tens of thousands of minds.”
“More,” Albus said quietly.
Percival shook his head, looking back out over Berlin.
“And you just… erased it?”
Albus glanced down briefly at the wand in his hand.
“I did not do it alone,” he said. “This wand… amplifies what would otherwise be impossible.”
Percival followed his gaze.
“The Elder Wand. The most powerful wand ever made,” Percival continued, half to himself. “And you used it to rewrite an entire city.”
"Yes."
“Well,” Percival replied. “I suppose there’s no one else I’d rather see holding it.”
Albus did not respond.
Percival turned fully toward him now.
“I owe you,” he said.
Albus looked up. “No—”
“Yes,” Percival cut in. “You do not get to dismiss that.”
A flicker of something passed through his eyes.
“That man,” Percival continued, staring at Gellert, “wore my face. My name. Walked into MACUSA and twisted everything I stood for.”
Albus’s expression softened.
“I know,” he said quietly. “And I am sorry.”
Percival exhaled slowly.
“Well,” he said, “you’ve put an end to it. Finally.”
He glanced again at Gellert, who stood bound with a faint, knowing smile still lingering on his lips.
“Thank you,” Percival said.
Albus inclined his head.
“For what it’s worth,” Percival added, “I never thought I’d see the day someone actually defeated him.”
Albus’s gaze drifted, not to Gellert but to the city.
“It was not victory,” he said. “Not entirely.”
Percival studied him.
“You don’t sound convinced.”
Albus was quiet for a long moment.
Then he said, “He was right.”
Percival blinked. “About what?”
Albus’s eyes remained fixed on the horizon.
“We cannot hide forever.”
Percival’ expression hardened slightly. “We’ve been hiding for centuries.”
“And the world has changed more in the last fifty years than in the previous five hundred,” Albus replied. “Technology, communication, warfare… Muggles are no longer what they were when the Statute was written.”
Percival crossed his arms.
“You’re suggesting we just… reveal ourselves?”
“No,” Albus said. “Not like this. Not through fear, or domination.”
He glanced back briefly, toward where Gellert stood.
“But the separation between our worlds is… fragile. Temporary.”
Percival was silent.
“One day, wizard and Muggle will have to meet again, ” Albus continued. ”Not as master and subject. Not as enemies. But as equals.”
Percival let out a quiet breath.
“That,” he said, “sounds like a problem for another day.”
Albus allowed himself the faintest hint of a smile.
“Yes,” he said. “It does.”
Just a Percival Graves headcanon for your consideration:
- Hidden beneath the bespoke suit and sharply tailored ensemble, the Director is covered in magical tattoos. Symbols designed to protect the bearer from the all the inherent dangers of a risky law enforcement career. I’m thinking powerful sigils or ancient runes