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CAUGHT IN A CROSSFIRE

ALL THINGS MUST END — ; PART 10 / 10

PAIRING: Theseus Scamander x Female!Reader WORD COUNT: 4.7k SUMMARY: You and Theseus awaken in a place that feels all too familiar, uncovering that the truth behind Miriam’s intentions lies within the act of revenge itself. This is a tale of betrayal, love, and hatred, but it's also the story of how you learn to love again. A/N: This is it! I’m so so nervous for yall to read this, but I hope you like it!! I want to take a moment to thank everyone who has been here either from day one or at any time you found this series– thanks for sticking around. WARNINGS: Swearing. Angst. Injuries. Mentions of hurt. Mentions of being burnt (it’s not detailed), Mentions of death. Theseus being a simp (HAHA). No beta as always we die like men. MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

Augustus Warden was a tyrant, characterised by his uncaring, manipulative, and violent nature towards anyone who dared to oppose him. He held a firm belief in eradicating magic, viewing it as inherently evil, and saw himself as a saviour destined to rid the world of it.

Augustus Warden was also Miriam’s father.

Well, he could hardly call himself a father. He was never one to her. And was never a husband to her mother.

Augustus became obsessed with the perception of a saviour complex. It drove Miriam’s mother away, leaving her to deal with her father’s aggression and temper. Yet, Augustus's influence within the scourers' community grew, and The Gardenia Society landed itself in the thick of the chaos.

Again. Being hunted.

When your brother began showing signs of magic, your mother feared for his life. She had known about a distant ancestor with magical abilities for quite some time, though she hadn’t expected it to resurface in her only son.

Your brother was born at the wrong place and at the wrong time.

Your mother sought the help of Miriam, her closest friend. Almost a sister to her. She trusted her with her life. Nobody knew about your brother’s abilities besides your family and Miriam. It was a well-kept secret for the society's and your family's safety.

So, when word got out about your brother, your mother knew who had leaked the secret. Or so she thought.

The inhumane arrest of a boy. To be burned at the stake. Those were the words of the people. Just like their ancestors did. Hence, your mother decided to retaliate that betrayal of trust with Miriam for turning against her and her family. Miriam was then accused of being a witch and is the sole reason behind everything that happened to your brother.

She knew her father was insane but never knew he would ever go this far.

Her father. He showed no mercy.

“You dirty witch.”

Those were the words of the people, it rang against her ears.

Miriam remembers the fear etched in her throat. How her heart was beating out of her chest as she screamed, pleading to Augustus that this was all on pretence.

Yet, it seems that Augustus had been searching for a way to get rid of Miriam and finally found the opportunity.

A ball of flame in the darkness lit on a matchstick.

Augustus Warden stands tall and looming as he creeps from the shadows. He holds the little match with a grim twist to the edge of his lips. No sign of remorse. No sign of guilt.

“You did this to him … So long, witch.”

He tosses the matchstick.

Flames engulf Miriam.

Your family fled from the village with the help of The Gardenia Society and several Aurors, landing yourselves in the heart of London where the Warden would never find your brother. Since then, you had your memories erased.

But nothing ever stays permanent. And nothing ever truly dies.

–

Darkness.

Theseus struggles to grasp reality, feeling his presence as the memories from moments ago flood in.

He remembers … you. On the ground. Bleeding.

Immediately, he’s wide awake.

His surroundings are a blur, in the process of recollecting his thoughts when all that fills his head is you. Theseus then realises he’s seated; it’s cold, solid against his back and causes his slumped figure to lay straight on its surface.

A pungent smell suddenly fills his senses. Gasoline. He smells gasoline.

Merlin’s beard—

As he regains his sight, he recognises the room he is in. It’s circular, lined with seats to portray an amphitheatre. It’s a courtroom, though its structure tells a different story. Frescos held by its walls were heavily worn with time, abandoned, and unseen. This may be a ministry courtroom, but no longer operational.

The courtroom is filled with members of The Restoration Movement, all eyes on him. Among them, Morrigan and Mulberry stand sentinel, their scrutiny unyielding.

This is also when Theseus realises he is missing his wand.

Why on earth would Miriam bring him back to the ministry?

Before he could even begin to question it, Theseus spots you lying unconscious on the floor before him, in a pool of liquid. You’re drenched in gasoline too, he’s sure of it. It sends a sudden surge of shock to his heart, and there’s an immediate sense of urgency in how he moves to you, yet he stays unmoving in his seat.

Theseus glances at his arms and notices they have been bound with chains attached to the seat’s armrest. Eyes now wide, they return to your unmoving figure on the ground and all he thinks is to pull and pull and pull. Still, he can only watch you from a distance.

“Look at you. Helpless. Desperate. Seems like she changed you for the worse, Theseus.”

Miriam appears before him, you lay at her feet, tone laced with sarcasm as it booms through the courtroom. Strong and relinquished. Her expression wild, flashing with anger, hurt, and betrayal—hardened without an ounce of fragility and mercy in sight.

“Why are you doing this?”

There’s a tone of desperation tinged in his voice and it shakes him to his core. Theseus has been afraid plenty of times—during his training, the war. He has seen unspeakable things, but never has he been in the position of seeing someone he cares so tortured and bruised.

It clicks in his head. The ministry is the last place anyone would find them. Miriam is no fool.

Theseus heaves a silent prayer, hoping that despite the impossibilities of the day's events, both of you would make it out alive.

His gaze returns to you, catching a glimmer in your eye. You’re awake. Barely, but you are. Your body remains frozen, yet your eyes convey a silent assurance, hidden from Miriam's sharp scrutiny. It's a subtle promise that you'll endure. That you’ll be fine.

Miriam’s smile widens as her expression morphs into a cynical, surprised look, mocking his question.

“I laid out all the clues, and you still haven't figured it out? Perhaps you weren't as intelligent as I thought.”

Despite the gravity of the moment, Theseus restrains the impulse to roll his eyes. Of course, he quickly discerned the laid-out clues: the open door, the photograph, and the brooch. Yet, certain questions remain unanswered—how did his brother become privy to Miriam's existence, and how did he predict Theseus's unravelling of the hidden messages in the letters?

Perhaps, Miriam doesn’t know why either.

“All I want is to destroy her. The Gardenia Society. Everything her mother ever loved.”

Miriam speaks in a manner of delusional confidence. A false sense of belief that her actions are deemed righteous. That whatever she intends to do is all for justice.

And it all ties back to your mother and the Gardenia Society.

Theseus watches the way her eye twitches, a flicker of sheer annoyance.

Something feels wrong. Or missing?

“Yet, you, dear Theseus. You always had a habit of sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, and now I have no choice but to take you with her,” Miriam declares, her tone laced with frustration.

Theseus merely scoffs. It sends Miriam boiling.

"You’re a hypocrite, Miriam. You revelled in meddling in everyone's lives, in my family's lives. Tell me, Miriam, did you truly believe we wanted you around?"

“Shut up –”

“We only did because we felt bad for you. After your husband passed –”

“I DON'T NEED YOUR FUCKING PITY.”

Her voice tears through the room, booming against its very walls. Miriam's eyes blaze with fury as she strides toward Theseus, and in an instant, her hand connects with his cheek in a resounding slap that leaves it stinging.

Unbeknownst to anyone but Theseus, you are wide awake, silently observing his calculated provocations aimed at pushing Miriam to her limits. With each jab, you understand his strategy, sensing the gears turning in his mind as he buys time. Knowing Theseus, he probably had a plan in motion before he came for you.

Through her distractions, you take it as an opportunity to survey your surroundings, noting the dilapidated state of the room. Amidst the debris, a broken piece of wood catches your eye—it looks like a post that came apart from a railing. Its edges are sharpened after being torn apart. Something you could weaponise if you needed to.

Immediately you exchange a fleeting glance with Theseus. He’s looking right at you, though almost unnoticeable. You aren’t sure how you could tell, but there’s a silent understanding that develops between the of you.

Something is about to happen.

Just then, a sudden thud echoes from beyond the courtroom. It comes from the room’s entrance.

Miriam's attention snaps toward the sound, prompting you to feign unconsciousness once more. As she directs one of the men to investigate, the pieces fall into place.

Theseus just hopes the plan is set in motion.

He takes a deep breath before fixing Miriam with a steely gaze “You know, Miriam. Something doesn’t quite add up.”

Miriam's jaw clenches in response. “And what is that?” she retorts, her tone edged with defiance.

“The fact that I’m the one who’s in this chair, instead of her … This isn’t just about revenge on her mother isn’t it?”

He sees it. Only a flicker. Her facade slips ever so slightly.

“I’m not stupid, Miriam.”

A beat. The air thickens.

Theseus watches intently as she takes his words in. Then, she steps back, creating distance from him once more. As if she’s almost afraid he’ll be able to detect any sort of falter or weakness in her.

Her once furious eyes are now almost solemn.

“Oleander was … ambitious, hard-headed, and strong-willed man.” Miriam begins, her gaze distant. “Despite all his faults, I loved him. He promised me an escape from my father's tyranny, a chance for us to be together at last.”

Her eyes flicker towards you, still prone on the ground, and a tumult of emotions washes over her face—a mixture of anger and hurt.

“Then, her mother accused me of betraying the very secret that shielded her brother," Miriam continues, her voice tinged with bitterness. "I became a pawn in their game, a scapegoat to be sacrificed. Oleander vanished, leaving me to face the consequences alone.”

So, it’s all for love. Or more for the betrayal she felt.

"I discovered years later that it was he who leaked the secret. Turns out he was an Auror, undercover. He seduced the daughter of a Scourer to infiltrate my wretched father's inner circle. When everything went awry, he led the operation to save the members of The Gardenia Society," Miriam pauses, regaining composure as she continues, "But not me."

Then, Miriam turns to him once more.

"You remind me of him, Theseus. A little too much. All you seek is justice, yet you have no qualms about destroying lives in your path. You deem some unworthy and strike them down, all in the name of righteousness. Just like him. I will not stand by and let history repeat itself."

Fishing something from the pocket of her coat, Theseus discerns its shape in the dim light—a matchbox.

But, Theseus isn’t afraid. Not anymore.

It instead conjures a smile from him—all in rebellious smite.

“You won’t kill me.”

His tone is mocking. It elicits a frown from Miriam.

“What makes you think I won’t end you like the rest? I’ve killed muggles. I've killed her entire family without hesitation. I’m not afraid.”

“But you won’t kill me. Well, you can’t kill me,” Theseus counters with confidence as he clocks movement in the background.

“What?”

“All things must end, Miriam.”

Just then, a sudden flash of blue streaks across the courtroom and hits Morrigan in the shoulder. She collapses at impact.

Immediately, chaos erupts in the courtroom. Aurors flood the room, emerging from every corner of the amphitheatre as the surprise attack begins. Flashes of blinding blue, green and red bolt across the expanse as the attack began.

Theseus sees Travers in the crossfire, Mulberry collapsed on the ground at his feet. His expression is solemn, it’s a reflection after knowing the truth, but also a silent recognition and gratitude to Theseus that if he did not make it in time, this whole place would be in flames. It was risky if anything were to happen to him, but thankfully, his Patronus found Travers and knew of his current location. It was the right call.

Through the impossibilities of today, a miracle did happen.

Miriam’s face splits into pure horror and she loses her concentration amidst the onslaught. Before she can react, you spring into action, wielding the broken piece of wood you had your eye on with fierce determination. Instantly, you strike Miriam on the head with a forceful blow that immediately sends her to the ground, rendering her unconscious.

Miraculously, the binds that held him to the chair disappear, finally able to get to you.

Well, that certainly works.

Breathless and weary, you stand on the edge of exhaustion, your body protesting with every step as you find yourself teetering on the brink of collapse. Despite your efforts to remain upright, your knees finally give out, sending you to the ground. With palms outstretched, you strain against the weight of fatigue, muscling all your strength to keep yourself from falling.

You then feel him. His grip finds the curve of your shoulder and your arm, supporting the weight of your own. It's warm, gentle, desperate yet assuring.

Theseus stares down at you with panic in his eyes.

“Are you alright?”

The words hang in the air as you grapple with the question.

Are you really alright?

“... She killed my family.” you choke out, your voice strained with grief as you struggle to contain a sob. Immediately his hand finds your cheek, fingers against cold skin. They are soft. Grounding.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs softly.

You feel the gentle drag of his thumb just below your eye. It’s only then your blurred vision from the welling of tears, cheeks stained with the desolation and hurt that begins to settle within you. It hits you, gradually, but the pain is turning unbearable. It’s the physical pain searing through your back and the emotional hurt from everything that’s happened.

All you wanted was for this to end.

And now, when it is, where does it leave you?

Theseus’ careful touch remains on your cheek, his other hand firm against your shoulder. He can see the way your mind begins to spiral.

He says your name. You finally bring your eyes to meet his.

Furrowed brows, charming eyes, cheeks tinged with a little colour of red, vaguely tousled hair.

A small smile plays on his lips.

“We should get out of here, don’t you think?”

–

2 MONTHS LATER

My dearest,

I hope this letter finds you in consolation and comfort, though I must admit that my own heart is heavy with the weight of the news I bear of the fate of your brother.

Contrary to our belief, your brother did not meet his end on the battlefield, as we were led to believe. Instead, he orchestrated his demise when he sought information on your mother and The Gardenia Society. Through our research and Miriam’s testimony, we gathered that your brother was intentionally recruited into the Restoration Movement and allied with Morrigan. He had every intention to seek Miriam and avenge your mother’s death. He was part of the operation until Miriam sensed his true plan and decided to eliminate him. No matter the situation, Miriam would’ve killed him in the end, but she intended to use him to get to you first. This was when her plan started to fall apart.

This is all we know thus far. I shall keep looking for more. Your brother was a brave soul. He saved your life.

With that said, I hope this brings you some peace.

You must know you have been a constant in my mind these past few months. Though I understand your need to be alone at this time, nothing can ever describe the unthinkable things you have been through.

But perhaps, if you wish so, we could meet at St Mary’s Gardens in Woolwich. I hear it’s near your current home. I’ll be there on Sunday at 10 in the morning, should you choose to join me. It’ll be good to see your face once more.

Yours,Theseus

You’ve read this letter a hundred times since a certain familiar owl dropped it on your windowsill, just like the other times it had done so. Letters from Theseus were merely part of your days for the past two months, your desk in your bedroom filled with parchments of handwritten letters, signed by the very man that saved your life and sought to protect you.

Despite this, you never once gave a reply to any of his letters. Truth be told, you had been avoiding Theseus, a subconscious decision to try and distance yourself from everything related to magic. You never wanted to push him away, but you didn’t know how to separate yourself from the events with The Restoration Movement and Miriam without being in his presence. Theseus reminded you of all you’ve lost, though you seem to have forgotten the one thing you’ve gained.

You never saw him when Miriam was put on trial. When the ministry convinced you to step in as a witness, to give your testimony. In return, a deal was made—you get to keep your memories but sworn to secrecy. You somehow suspected that Theseus is the very reason the Ministry is so willing to work with you.

But it was overwhelming. Especially at the start. To talk about everything.

You pushed him away but It didn’t stop Theseus from writing to you. Update after update. He understands your grief better than you would expect.

Theseus never gave up on you. And for a moment, you wonder why you ever gave up on him.

A gust of wind whips through the deck of the Woolwich Ferry, tugging at the letter from your fingers. For a moment, it seemed like it would slip from your grasp, lost to the currents of the River Thames. Your heart leaps as you tighten your grip, fingers curling around the paper as if it were the only thing anchoring you to reality.

You clung to every word like it was a lifeline. His words were the first thing you reached for in the morning, the reassuring touch that helped you muster the strength to face another day alone.

Though certain words made your heart thrum a little faster than usual.

You must know you have been a constant in my mind these past few months.

You know how you feel about Theseus, but now, it’s clear as day.

Perhaps you don’t have to be alone anymore.

The ferry comes to a halt by Woolwich Pier, and your hands start getting clammy. From your position trailing behind a line of people as you step off the ferry, you can spot the gardens, a small gathering of trees amid the urban landscape.

However, you’re distracted, your mind lingering on the words that filled Theseus's letter.

It’ll be good to see your face once more.

The passing scenery catches you off guard and grounds you back to reality when you realise you’re already at the entrance of St Mary’s Gardens. Towering trees with arched branches and leaves rustling in the gentle breeze that shines golden against the morning sunlight. The trees cast shadows on the ground, dancing along the lush yet overgrown grass.

And there, you see Theseus.

He seems anxious, movements betraying a nervous energy that mirrored your own. One moment, he’s seated; the next, he’s standing; and another, he’s pacing as if unable to settle into one spot for more than a moment.

You watch him for a moment, somehow unable to move.

God, you miss him.

Then, as if he had sensed your presence, he’s turning around only to meet your gaze. In an instant, a wave of relief washes over his face, melting away the tension that had gripped him moments before. His expression softens at the mere sight of you. His expression splits into a smile that lights up his entire face.

Theseus says your name, and you feel the sudden warmth that floods your chest.

“Theseus.”

He carefully ambles to you, halting just about a foot away.

“You look …”

Tired, distraught, awful—

“Beautiful.”

Your heart picks up speed and pulls a bashful smile from you. You can’t even look at him without going red.

“Thank you. You look …”

Handsome, charming, the most beautiful man you’ve ever encountered.

“—well too. At least from the last time I saw you.”

The two of you were at St Mungo’s. Theseus had his arm around your waist, bearing the weight of your weakened frame as you stumbled, the sudden nausea overwhelming you after apparating to the hospital. In the reception area, you doubled over and vomited.

Just like old times.

Then, you were separated ever since.

Theseus mirrors your smile, similarly coy.

“I was beginning to think you were ignoring me for good.”

Your heart breaks a little at his words. “Look, Theseus. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was just …” you trail off, unable to finish your words. You feel guilty.

“No, it’s—you don’t have to apologise. You needed space, I understand that.” Theseus says with an edge of anxiety. As if one wrong word, you’ll go running. He purses his lips and tucks his hands into his pockets.

“I was just worried about you, that’s all.”

Your heart stutters. Theseus has always been so caring that it’s almost overwhelming.

He senses a shift in the air. He knows to be careful and patient. You need time. And he’s willing to wait as long as you want him to.

“If you would like, we could meet again. Same place, same time?”

“I would like that a lot, Theseus.”

–

Your Sundays were then days that truly felt brighter. Theseus works through the week at odd hours, yet ensures to keep his weekends free. Every Sunday, he’s there at St Mary’s Gardens, to give you an update on the investigation.

You find out how your mother passed in America at the hands of Miriam and how your brother may have been a seer, though unproven. It was the only explanation as to how he predicted you would even meet Theseus.

You buried your family. Three empty caskets.

Those times were the hardest. The realisation that secrets had been kept from you left you feeling helpless. Yet, through it all, Theseus stood by your side.

Weeks drift by, the case closes and Miriam and her followers are put behind bars. Still, Theseus ends with the same words:

“Same place, same time?”

So, Sundays turned into Fridays. Then, Wednesdays and Mondays—Theseus always found a way to weave you into his life, despite the hectic life of being an Auror. With his career on the rise from his hard work with your case, it’s hard for him to make time, but he makes it a point to see you, to hear your voice, to check up on you ever so often.

Theseus carries a certain air of enthusiasm when he’s with you. It’s carefully placed, disguised behind his calm demeanour, but you hope he knows how much you share that same enthusiasm whenever you see him. Whether it’s traversing through Hyde Park or sharing meals, these little times tend to be the highlights of your week. It revolves all around him.

Your love for Theseus doesn’t come careening in like an arrow pieced to your heart or a shock to the discernment of your feelings for him.

It’s gradual. And it grows larger and larger with every passing day. With every passing second.

And here you are, leaning against the railing that overlooks the River Thames, brushing shoulders with Theseus as you finish your ice cream. The river glimmers under the setting sun, and a gentle warm breeze sweeps through as the two of you watch Tower Bridge light up in comfortable silence.

“I saw Mr. Shacklebolt the other day,” you chirp suddenly, gaze trailing the ducks by the shore. The skies begin to turn dark as the crowds diminish, but you feel safe. Especially with Theseus.

Theseus turns to you with a curious furrow of his brows. “Who?”

You hum. It’s soft and contemplative and it causes a small smile to creep on your lips. “My old employer. He fired me months back. Before, you know, everything that happened –”

You catch your slipping and immediately halt your sentence, back to munching on your almost-gone ice cream cone.

Before I met you.

He recognises the implication and the sudden shift of your expression. It’s so vague, but he sees it. He always does.

Theseus takes a pause and decides to not address it.

“Really? So, did you clock him in the jaw?” There’s a hint of mischief in his tone and it causes you to laugh. Theseus’ eyes crinkle at the sight.

“I would have. He was right across the street. But, I decided not to. Not because he was with his children and I didn’t want them to see their father get knocked out by a lady –”

It’s Theseus’ turn to laugh. Your face splits into a grin as you continue. “I realised I wouldn’t be where I am today if he hadn’t fired me that day.”

A beat. You’re mustering up some sort of courage to make your care for Theseus known. To put it under the spotlight for everyone to see. From the corner of your eye, you can see him staring at you, taking you in, clinging to every word you say.

“And I wouldn’t have met you.”

You huff, feeling incredibly restless as you turn to face him.

“Theseus, I don’t think I ever thanked you for everything you’ve done for me. You saved my life, and you never gave up on me. I thank you for that.”

He goes quiet in an almost bashful manner now tucked into the pockets of his slacks as he replies, “I try my best … or are you just saying that because I bought you ice cream?”

“Oh piss off!” you snap back at his tease with ardent humour, jabbing him in his shoulder with your finger.

You watch him squirm away with a casual laugh, beaming at you like you’re the sun. At this moment you decide you’re not waiting anymore. God, you don’t even know why you waited this long.

Theseus falls silent, his gaze still fixed on you with a curious beam that ignites a sudden surge of courage within you—courage you never knew you had.

In an instant, you’re surging to him, closing the distance between you where your lips meet his. It’s clumsy, graceless and so quick that it’s almost dreamlike in its brevity. You’re looking at him with wide eyes as if you couldn’t believe what you had just done.

You kissed him.

And Theseus looks like he’s about to explode.

"It seems that you just beat me to it," he breathes, his own lips tingling with the burning imprint of yours.

His words elicit an airy laugh from you, and as you mirror his grin, Theseus feels his heart skip a beat at the sight. Of all the times he’d known you, he had never seen you this light, this warm, this … happy.

He can’t explain it, but an impulse drives to reach for your hand, fingers tangled in your own as he brings his other to the curve of your cheek, warm to the touch. Vacant from tears, but lined with crinkles of laughter and smiles.

He feels the same way when with you.

At that moment, Theseus leans in to press his lips to yours once more. It’s different from before—more gentle, honest, and grounding.

It’s beautiful.

You’ve lived your life full of discrepancies and contradictions, but Theseus is the one thing you were so certain about. It’s a final profound sense of clarity.

Entwined with his fingers, there’s a sense of contentment that settles within you. As if the happiness you always sought has finally found its way into your life.

TAGLIST: (i really hope i got this right ;-;)

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