Chapter Text
One week after he became the official consultant magizoologist of MACUSA, Newt was trying to catch his Niffler when he heard a conversation between Graves and Picquery. It seemed that the Director considered him a ‘reckless, unpredictable wizard that wanted to pet anything that could move and was going to get himself killed one of those days’ it didn’t surprise him, most of the people considered him an annoyance.
From that day on, he decides to keep his distance, but even though he does as best as he can to avoid the man, his bad luck makes him bump into the Director at the most unexpected times.
It makes him feel nervous, especially because Graves is always glaring at him; probably expecting him to ruin something or to make a mess at any moment.
“Don’t worry,” Tina smiles kindly at him when they’re sitting in MACUSA’s cafeteria. “He’s always like that. I’m sure it’s not personal.”
Next to her, Queenie grins knowingly at her sandwich and Newt is certain she’s doing her best not to look at him. He wants to ask her, since she knows basically everything that happens in MACUSA thanks to her ability, but he’s afraid he’s not going to like the answer.
Then, she looks up, like she’s watching something over his shoulder and Newt can’t help but to turn around and see for himself; Graves is sitting a few tables away. The Director narrows his eyes at him and Newt watches as the President laughs, whispers something to him while nudging him insistently.
Newt looks back at his tea; his cheeks burning from the heat.
He has dealt with people that doesn’t like him in the past, he can do it now; he just needs to ignore it.
“It’s not like that, honey,” Queenie assures, but Newt shakes him head, completely sure that she only says it to make him feel better.
***
Tina’s office is a great place to hide.
Newt was assigned a desk in the middle of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, he got along well with the other aurors, but then Graves started to pay them all a visit at least once a day to remind them all what they were doing wrong or just to discuss certain cases with Weiss or Fontaine instead of sending someone to do it like he always did.
One terrible day he brought the Niffler and told Newt he caught him trying to steal his pocket watch. The magizoologist mumbled an apology while looking away from the Director.
“I’m not angry…” But the sigh he let out was of a clearly irritated man. “Just keep him inside the case, alright? If he keeps roaming around MACUSA like that he could get hurt.”
Newt tensed and pulled the little thief closer to his chest. Was that a threat? Graves was telling him that he was going to hurt him if he found him wandering around again?
He was not sure. Later, Queenie told him Graves won’t hurt Niff, but Newt made sure the creature didn’t escape again.
Just in case.
Now, sitting on Tina’s couch, Newt feels a little more relaxed.
At least until Graves decides that he needs to remind Tina every time he needs a report.
Newt tries to act as if he’s not there, but it’s very difficult because he can feel Graves’ eyes on him.
“I need it tonight, Goldstein,” the Director is telling Tina who’s already nodding.
“Of course, Sir,” she says. “Abernathy already told me.”
Newt’s waiting for him to go, but he doesn’t.
“Mr. Scamander,” and the magizoologist shivers, ready to hear a snarl directed at him. “Do you have the permits for your creatures?”
“Yes!” He looks up and his grip on the case tightens, unconsciously.
“For ALL of them?” One of Graves’ brows quirks up, making Newt feel flustered. When the Director crosses his arms over his chest, the magizoologist knows he’s in trouble.
“Uhh… Yes?”
“Show me then,” and Newt learns that those words not only mean the permits, but the creatures themselves.
Graves wants to see his creatures.
Newt knows he has no other choice, he’s his boss after all, but he also knows that by doing that he’ll realize that, in fact, Newt doesn’t have all the permits.
The magizoologist leads him inside, looking nervously around, begging silently to Merlin that he’s creatures behave themselves just for once.
“I might not have all of-” but he interrupts himself when he hears Graves groan.
“Just show me,” the Director sighs.
***
Graves meets all of his creatures; he almost has a heart attack when he meets Nancy and he’s certainly not very fond of the marmite and frowns when the fwooper flies away just to turn her back on him.
“How- why would you keep a Nundu of all things?” He gasps. “You madman, do you have a death wish or something? And you come here every day to feed it? That thing could tear you apart in-”
“Nancy is harmless!” Newt cuts him off, offended. He doesn’t even care that he’s almost yelling at his boss.
Graves stares at him, blinking almost in shock and then sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Do you know how difficult it’ll be to get a permit for… her?” He blurts out, but he doesn’t seem like he’s expecting Newt to answer because he keeps walking. “And the mooncalves, how many are they?”
“It’s a herd of forty eight.”
“Forty eight! Well… I guess we can make one permit for the whole herd.” The Director mumbles to himself and Newt can see by the way he’s frowning that he’s going to get himself a headache. “The occamys and the bowtruckles as well…”
“Mr. Graves… I-”
“Meet me tomorrow morning in my office,” the auror says and then walks away, leaving Newt a little confused.
***
Newt walks in Graves’ office shyly, he doesn’t know what to expect; part of him is afraid that the Director would tell him that he could not stay in New York with his creatures.
However, instead of finding a furious auror, he watches in shock as Graves hands him dozens of permits.
He looks exhausted and Newt is tempted to ask if he got some sleep last night, but he bites his bottom lip just in time.
“T-thanks,” he manages to say.
“All of these have expiration date, which means you’ll have to renew them, okay?” Graves rubs his temples. “This is important, Scamander… If something happens to one of your creatures and the permits are expired someone could take them away, do you understand?”
A warning. Newt nods, takes a step back and holds the papers tight.
There must be something on his face because when Graves stares back at him, he looks almost alarmed.
“No! I’m not saying that I would take them! I would never do that, I’m only trying to-”
“It’s okay, Mr. Graves,” Newt interrupts, already thinking about using a spell to remind himself the expiration dates of all the permits. “I get it. I won’t forget.”
And then he flees from the room.