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Theseus Scamander. Everybody knows him. The war hero, the head auror. If you haven't met him, you certainly have heard the grand stories of a courageous hero. But for y/n, she knew of him a different way...
Theseus Scamander was the reas...
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wc: 1476 ——————//—————— The next day, you scoured London for Krafft, checking every nook cranny and foul place you could think of, but nonetheless came up empty-handed. You had taken the day off from the ministry to find clues, witnesses, something, but not even one person said they saw him or had even heard of him. Then again it was Knockturn Alley, so your hopes weren't exactly up.
When you returned home defeated for the second night in a row, your thoughts drifted to the previous nights events. Flashes of pain and hurt resurrected from your memory, each one connected back to Hans Krafft. Your fist hit the table in anger. You vowed to catch this horrible creature and put him to justice. One way or another.
You glanced at your closed fist next to you, your thoughts drifting once again to the night before. This time, the memory was not filled with pain and screams. It was of comfort. You remembered the sweet comfort of Theseus's arms around you after you had told him about your brother. He knew you needed it more than anything, and he knew not to press you about Hans Krafft after your dramatic reveal. Instead of pressing you for more details, he had been contented to pull you closer for a moment before offering to escort you back to your flat. You gratefully accepted.
Your other hand absently traced your lips as you remembered his gentlemanly manner. He walked you back, made sure you were safe, and made tea while you changed clothes in the other room, only leaving when you assured him you would make it till the morning (you didn't even have the heart to make a dirty joke about it). Just before he left, you pulled him into a hug again. Your whispered words of thankfulness didn't escape his notice, and his arms growing tighter around you didn't escape yours. You were glad to have a friend like him. No one else had ever made you feel so comforted before.
When you went into work the next day, Theseus looked at you differently. It was as if he was trying to figure you out again, but didn't know where to start.
All he knew about that night was from an old file with your last name printed in large red letters that your brother, Charlie, was killed two years ago by Hans Krafft. That was it. The rest he wanted to hear from you. He knew you would come to him when you were ready to tell him the story, and he knew not to pester you further. But you knew Theseus would dig deeper once you did, and it was only a matter of time till he found out the whole story. You dreaded the day he did.
"Y/n?" Came Theseus's voice, startling you from your thoughts.
You gazed up at him. He was looking at you with concern, which surprised you. You had spent every spare moment here in the office since yesterday. Coming in early and staying late. His eyes graced over the evidence of sleeplessness in your eyes.
"Y/n, it's been two days. Go home and sleep. We can survive one more day without your expertise," he said gently.
When you didn't reply, he- awkwardly- pulled you to your feet and to the elevator.
