Fantastic Beasts and How To Save Them (Newt Scamander)

Osiris

Enoch appeared unphased when Graves entered the room, though his mind was still reeling in pain from the jolt to his legs minutes prior.

He was spelled to a chair, his hands bound to the table in front of him, and the Seer had to commend them for thinking of everything. His hand's laid flat against the table top, no space for even a finger twitch for an attempt at magic.

The panicked voice of Newt still echoed in his mind.

Graves and Enoch had met a few times, though none of them were pleasant.

"Kadmeil." He's holding a folder when he comes in, taking a seat on the other side of the table. "I've never heard a name so foreign. Yet you claim to be from here."

"I never claimed anything." It was a lie, he had claimed many things in his lifetime, a home in New York with an English accent just happened to be one of the claims. Enoch looked Graves in the eyes as he lied.

Graves shakes his head, pulling a paper from the folder and lying it flat on the table between them. "M.A.C.U.S.A Identification Number: AMN0998X23VI. That is an American identification number, not a foreign one. You lied on offical documents?"

Enoch did not bother to respond, instead, he leaned back into his seat, trying to think himself out of this particular situation.

Graves sighed, as if he were disappointed. "Where is the obscurial Mr. Jones?"

"Like I said before, I will not tell you. Not even I know for sure where he-" Graves interrupts Enoch, and the moment he does the Seer realizes his mistake.

"He? You never said he before." The volume of Graves voice began to crescendo.

"I-." The man interrupts again.

"Where is he!" Graves slams his hand on the table, his shouts echoing through the small room.

Enoch stays quite, looking from the wall to the table to the floor, anywhere but the man in front of him. Graves holds the silence for a few minutes, as if giving Enoch the chance reply, though he would not.

"You are here attempting to expose wizarding kind are you not?" Graves is pulling at threads, trying to put some form of crime to what Enoch had been doing, though there was known to be found. "To provoke a war between the magical and non-magical worlds. Mass sl-"

"I am not one of Grindewalds fanatics Mr. Graves." Enoch interrupts him, appearing visibly insulted at the thought.

Enoch had seen many like Gellert Grindewald rise up, but they were always defeated in ample time. This man would be like the rest; a forgotten stain on the fabric of history.

Graves sighs as if disappointed. "You have aided in mass destruction of New York City. Your hope in exposing the magical world has failed. You are guilty of treasonous betrayal of your fellow witches and now face the death penalty. Your cohorts will receive the same." He waves the guards forward. "Deal with him quickly. I will inform President Picquery."

A death verdict was not one that Enoch had expected, and just as he started to protest a spell was casted, his voice falling silent despite his screaming. Hands grabbed for him, pulling the struggling Seer from the room to a white chamber just down the hall.

It was a situation that he should not be in, the fear of what he was ending because of a mistake made by a Wizard was something Enoch did not expect.

Enoch is thrown into a chair and just as he tries to stand two women strap him in, his inaudible words falling on ears that did not want to listen.

"Alright, it'll be over soon. All we've got to do is gets some of your good memories alright?" A kind faced witch places her wand tip on Enoch's forehead, and he fights against it, the familiar feeling of memories being taken comes over him. "Right then, there we are."

It is an off handed gesture that gets the cluster of memories into the dark pool of water, the moment they start to play, Enoch is gone.

His mind shouts that it isn't real, but he wishes more than anything to join the memories of the past.

Enoch's mother, Hapshepsut smiles brightly, her dark hair so similar to the baby that she holds in her arms. The blurry face of a father that he cannot particularly remember appearing above the woman.

Then he was just barely six, his hands in his mothers as he watched the guards practice their technique. The words she was speaking muffled as he watched the memory. Enoch and his mother were the best of friends.

"Now doesn't that look good. You wanna get in don't you?" The Death Keeper asked, and Enoch nodded, a lucid smile on his face.

The image in the pool shifted, and Enoch couldn't pull his eyes away.

His mother, a smile on her face as blood pooled from a wound in her chest. Enoch had seen the image of what was to happen just days before, and despite the protests of the little twelve year old boy she did not try to fight her fate.

Enoch was Pharaoh, the dual crown of Egypt sitting on his much to small head as he tried to deal with his mothers death and becoming the leader of the next dynasty.

The next image was nearly a century later, the smiling face of a man that Enoch had grown to love twisted into a sneer, the burning fire of a torch being lifted towards his face brought the real Enoch into focus.

Shouts filled the room but Enoch could just barely register them. The image of the boy Obscurial, and the dark force that was with him standing threateningly. The boy looks terrified, and the memory of when Enoch first saw him passed over the black sludge.

It then appeared as if the room remembered the happy memories, and as Enoch broke free from the trance that he was in, the image of him at just barely eighteen standing with his shoulders lifted high the Egyptian crown on his head as he took on the full weight of his kingdom onto his shoulders.

"Enoch!" Newt's voice filled the air and Enoch finally tore his eyes off of the last memory.

Newt stood there in all his lifelike wonderful glory.

Him.