Spoilers

The fire roared and spat, the blue flames striking in anger. Hunting down the Auror's, consuming them. Newt watched as wizards died around him, bursting into flames and ash, everything happening in a blink of an eye. The flames were merciless, letting none escape its wicked claws. Screams filled the once peaceful tomb, threatening to wake the dead. Newt gripped the handle of his case, his fingers turning white from the pressure. His eyes wide with fear as the fire charged his way, the reflection of the dancing blue flames in his eyes. Grindelwald watched the work of his flames, conducting the fire as it took one life after another. Newt raised his wand, his brother Theseus at his side. For once grateful for his company. Even with their wands out protecting themselves, the force of the flames crashing against their shield knocked them down. Still the shield remained, a stream of fire not relenting. Newt was starting to feel the strain of the simple spell, his body growing weak sweat forming on his face, draining himself of his magic. But his brother stuck by his side, both fighting back, not yet ready to embrace death just yet. Over the roar of the burning blue beautiful flames, a voice cried out. The flames that snapped at them died down, Grindelwald's attention now somewhere else. Both Scamander's got to their feet, Theseus helping his brother, still Newt clutched his case. There Leta stood, Grindelwald right in front of her. Theseus tried to rush to her aid, fighting of the deadly flames to no success. Never had Newt been so consumed with fear, never had his heart beat so fast. Words were exchanged between Leta and Grindelwald, Leta even taking his hand. Betrayal stabbed at the brother's hearts. Grindelwald then walked away, beckoning her to join him. She turned to them, eyes on both the brothers.

"I love you." Her eyes locked with Newt's for a split second, before turning back to Grindelwald. Her wand was then out in front of her, a spell hurtling towards the white-haired man's back. The spell did not strike him, being blocked with ease. Instead she attacked the woman who stood by his side, sending the skull she held to the floor, shattering on impact. The flames screamed in pain, circling furiously around the centre of the room. Theseus tried to get to his fiancée, the love of his life. Ready to battle the world, however he could not get past the flames, he could not get to his wife. Still Newt could only watch tears in his eyes. There was nothing he could do, she was destined for death before the blue flames took her. Her body being consumed before turning to ash. Newt had to wrap his arms around his brother, stopping him from throwing himself into the ferocious flames after his wife. With a clear picture in mind Newt closed his eyes, tears rolling down his face before he apparated.

The brothers now stood at the entrance to the tomb, Newt's ears ringing in the silence. The night air cold, a gentle breeze against their warm faces. All Newt could think of was Leta's last words and finale stare. Not yet able to mourn, a rumble beneath their feet giving warning to the danger rising from bellow. The next second the flames lunged from the shadows striking at them. Theseus now took his brother in his arms, pulling him back away from the flames. Both breathed heavy, warm tears still on their cheeks. Newt's limbs were already heavy, his body drained of too much magic. They both watched with wide eyes as a dragon of blue flames burst from the tomb, roaring with pure power. Newt and Theseus stumbled back before turning and darting. Flames nipping at there heals. Again, Theseus took hold of his brothers' arm, pulling him down the side of a tomb, out of the path of hungry flames. The heat was unbearable, the cool night air now only a memory. Blue flames seemed to erupt all around them, Theseus pulling Newt along, forcing him forward not matter how much Newt's struggling legs fought back. Jacob and Tina were suddenly in front of them, Yusuf and the young woman who had been by Credence's side also joined the group. The blue blaze lit the night sky, stars no longer visible. The dragon was suddenly on them, everyone turned wands in hand. Bursting the dragon of flames, forcing it to recover. Once again, Newt felt the spell sap at his strength, his eyes fluttering. Nicolas Flamel came out of nowhere, the old man they had all only briefly met, having taken refuge in his house. He still wore all white, the light from the blue screaming flames that engulfed the graveyard cast on them all. They stumble up the stairs towards him, before standing by the old man's side.

"Together in a circle, your wand into the earth" The man ordered, his gaze looking up to the burning sky. "Or all of Paris will be destroyed." His words even though riddled with fear, they were words that spoke the truth and could be trusted. The brothers apparated to one edge of the burning graveyard, what lay in front of them a hellish landscape. They both fell to one knee, striking the ground with their wands, plunging them deep into the dirt.

"Finite!" The brothers yelled into the night. The ground cracked, spreading in a line quickly, blinding golden orange light spewing from the crack. The no longer beautiful dancing flames split into three fearsome dragons, ready to destroy all in the shadow of their wings. Newt could feel his heart pounding in his chest, what was left of his power draining into his wand, being soaked up by the ground. The world becoming a blue blur. With the others doing the same, their wands feeding power into the earth, a circle of pure beaming orange flames caged the beasts. When they got close, the holy flames bringing pain to the dragons. With the circle formed the brothers were on their feet, Newt just barely. Wands pointed at the sky, the dragons screaming in pain as they now directed the orange flames. A battle between the two flames taking place in the sky. The dragons flew around in the circle, trapped. They tried to ascend, wanting to be free. The orange flames chased them, rising up. The hunter now becoming the hunted. With both hands gripping their wands, Newt finally having to put his case to the side, his brother crying out beside him. The pain of Leta's death, the anger channelling through his body. The dragons were pulled slowly from the sky, the three not going down without a fight. In one last effort one of the dragons lunged, getting loose from the grip of the flames. Lunged right for Newt and Theseus. In a split-second Newt dived for his brother, pushing him to the ground. The orange flames snatched the dragon back, it bellowed in defeat before being forced back underground with its siblings.

Theseus breathed heavy, he stared up at the sky, the stars now revealing themselves. The silence was overwhelmingly peaceful, taking Theseus out of the moment. His mind constantly wanting to remind him that the love of his life was gone, dead. The night seemed to have easily returned to normal, like fire never had took hold of the sky. The cool breeze even having returned, washing away the boiling air. Theseus then felt a weight on his chest, he slowly sat up, Newt's limp arm tumbled to the ground. His brother laid motionless face down next to him.

"Newt!" He cried out, sitting up and taking hold of Newt's shoulder. He rolled him over onto his back, Theseus's eyes locked on his brother right side. A fresh burn sat just under his ribs, the bloody raw flesh was bright red, blue embers in the wound seemingly still attacking his brother, wanting to burn deeper. Theseus had seen it before, other victims who had been grazed by Grindelwald's blues flames.

"Newt can you hear me?!" He questioned and begged, taking hold of his brother's sweaty face. His eyes were closed, refusing to open. "Newt please." He mumbled, pulling him up slightly so he held him in his arms, the back of Newt's head against his shoulder. "Newt please." He now sobbed. Tears streamed down his face with no hesitation, the pain he felt within not able to be described with words. But by the look in his eyes, the emptiness and loss that swirled around his pupils. "Your all I've got." He couldn't help but confess, a plea to death that was eager to take his brother from him. With tears in his eyes he looked over at Newt's wound, blood leaking from different places in the burn. Staining what was left of his white shirt around the wound bright red, even in the dark the moon gave enough light to see the horrific sight. Theseus dropped his head, clinging to his brother desperately.

Authors Notes

Hello all, hope your enjoyed the first chapter. Reviews of any thoughts always give me inspiration, love to hear from you. See you soon.