Things might be a bit slower than they were, in spite of my best intentions. I know where I want the story to go, but I'm wrestling to find the time and make the words do what I want them to.
------
Newt locks the cabin door behind him and pulls the tiny table into the middle of his small room, away from both the door and the window. His case is still open on the dresser and Hobbs is curled up in a depressed ball in the middle of the mussed sheets on the bed. Newt chuckles and lifts his eyebrows at the niffler.
“We’re on a ship. I don’t know what you thought you’d find in the cabin.”
Hobbs lifts his head and sniffs at Newt, eyes narrowed in annoyance.
“Not everywhere is open to thieving nifflers,” Newt says lightly, “You may not like it but it’s the best way to travel right now.”
Hobbs gives Newt an evil eye, which he ignores in favor of unfolding the Daily Prophet International. He drops the letter out of the folds and considers it, lying innocuously on the table as it is. There’s nothing to prove that the letter is from Theseus and the fact that it was presented by A Random Wizard doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. Then again, even if Theseus is indisposed by unlawful means, Newt can’t actually imagine anybody other than Theseus sending out letters to all corners of the wizarding community in hopes of reaching a wayward brother.
He drops the newspaper to the floor. When Theseus decided to train as an Auror, he insisted Newt learn every security spell known to wizardkind- and a few that weren’t, and Newt uses them all now. Once he is satisfied he slowly, gingerly, tears the seal. There is an immediate surge of magic, and Newt allows a tiny grin.
He knows that spell.
Copies of the letter have just gone up in flames around the world. Theseus came up with the spell during the Great War, one of the first things he did as part of the underground effort. It’s used by all Aurors in the Ministry, now. (Newt knows because everyone talks about it, even twelve years later.)
It’s only when he’s unfolding the parchment that he spares a thought to be grateful that this is just a letter, rather than a howler. (Though, to be fair, a howler would be much more difficult to make secure.)
Newton, my dear brother,
I hope you’re reading this before you’ve reached the Americas because it will mean you’ve not gone and died since your three sentence telegram (Mother’s still cross about that, by the way) and this warning isn’t moot. No sense in not trying.
I won’t dither. I have reason to believe that there is danger. What it is, I am unable to say. I only know with any certainty that Percival is not right. I fear something is amiss in the United States and most of all that the Magical Congress may be compromised.
I dare not give too many details of my suspicions, even with precautions taken on this letter. The paper may give you a hint of them; if we still think alike as we used to, I’ve no doubt you’ll figure it out.
Look, Newton, if you are planning on going through New York as part of your travels for any reason, please be careful. Try to avoid law enforcement. No more nundu-like escapades. (And I know, I know, yes, I’ve had people looking out for Newt sightings. I worry. Mother worries.)
Your brother, Theseus
PS- Oh. I ought perhaps tell you now that Percival also had people looking for you in collusion with me. As you are not, in fact, married, before you decide to give the Americas a miss altogether kindly note that this was to make sure you were still alive and whole. Also for that reason, be extra careful if you have any reason to be in New York.
Newt reads the letter three times. In the middle of his second read through, the ship shudders and lurches and Newt all but jumps to his feet. All is calm but for the slow rumbling of the ship’s engines as they are stoked to full heat somewhere far below. Newt slowly sinks back into his chair and breathes out a sigh of relief. He turns back to the letter.
Only when he is In the middle of a third read-through does Newt absently look up and to the window. The harbor is shrinking as the ship pulls slowly away from the docks and it finally hits him that he is really moving away from Bata and towards North America. A brief panic flutters into his throat as he thinks of New York, and something wrong with his contracted fiance, and what does that even mean because Theseus may have a flair for the dramatic when it comes to the everyday mundane, but he’s not given to exaggeration when it comes to danger.
Newt resolutely swallows and taps his fingers on the table.
He reads the letter one last time. Then he picks up the paper and spreads it over his table. Headlines emblazon Grindlewald’s name and a last known photograph of Grindlewald stares up at him. His gaze is soulless. Newt shivers.
He skims through the articles, trying to think like Theseus.
If Theseus is worried that something is wrong in MACUSA, enough to write to Newt about it, there’s nothing trivial about it. From the letter, Theseus thinks Mr. Graves is not right and compromised, but can’t be sure whether Mr. Graves has been abducted, Impirius’d, or if he’s a simple turncoat (Newt’s chest tightens when he considers that Mr. Graves may be the cause of danger and he wildly wonders if Theseus would allow the contract to be broken). That means it’s more than likely that Theseus worries that the whole of the Magical Congress is compromised and it’s just a matter of how deep the corruption is embedded.
Newt considers Apparating off the ship immediately. It’s tricky on a moving object- and worse with his suitcase- but so long as Newt can see the shore he’ll be able to make it- he’s always been incredibly proficient in Apparating.
He could rebook passage to South America as he considered doing before finding Frank. He could still take Frank home from South America; it would just require more time. Did Bata have any ships that traveled between Africa and Brazil?
A knock sounds on the cabin door and Newt’s heart leaps to his throat. His wand is in his hand before he even realizes it. Another knock comes and Newt swallows.
“Y-Yes?”
“Mr. Scamander? The safety demonstration is in five minutes. Please report to the second class lounge.”
Newt breathes out a long sigh and stands up straighter. “Yes, of course. A moment, please.”
He burns the letter with a tap of his wand and banishes the pile of ash out to sea. He's on the ship and he's made his plans. Worrying means you suffer twice. He might as well stick with the plans he has.
+
Helene stands by international Floo fireplace with the Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, his own secretary, whom Helene has never met before, and the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation Basil Carter. They’re all waiting for the signal that the Americans are ready to receive them on the other side of the network. (She tries not to look too excited since none of them do.)
The Floo network is not always reliable when crossing oceans, so it’s only used when there is an urgent need for international travel and the trip is very carefully scheduled. (That, and Helene has never been to America. She’s hoping there will be some time to sightsee between talks.)
The last time there was a need for this fireplace the Great War was still raging and the American President of the Magical Congress of the United States held an emergency meeting with the Minister of Magic to discuss wizarding participation. This use of the Floo network being the first after such an even makes the trip somewhat historic- though probably not enough to make it into a history book.
“Helene, good, you’ve not left yet,” says Mr. Scamander’s voice.
Helene turns on her heel. Mr. Scamander approaches hurriedly. He pulls up to her and pauses to give a half bow of greeting to the others. There is an envelope in his hand.
“Minister, Undersecretary. Basil, ready for New York?”
“Always,” says Carter. He checks his watch. “If they’d open the bloody fireplace.”
The Undersecretary is checking his itinerary and papers and going over some last few points with the Minister. They absently nod in Mr. Scamander’s direction- Helene thinks the mumbles are meant to be a greeting- before forgetting to pay him any attention. The secretary to the Undersecretary is checking her nails.
Mr. Scamander shoves the letters at Helene with an attempt at a smile. She automatically puts her hand out and sees her name on the top envelope right away. The other envelope, much smaller, is firmly pressed into her palm in such a way that it can’t be seen.
“Helene,” he says, and she hears his falsely light tone right away, “I figured as long as I can’t join you for the forum I’d write a quick letter of introduction to some of my favorite people. There’s also a sheet with some information on New York you might find helpful.”
Helene slips the envelopes into her inner coat pocket smoothly and casts a quick spell to keep it securely closed until she’s ready to open it. “Thank you, sir.”
“Quite welcome. And if you see Percival Graves, please give him my regards. Tell him I’m sorry I’ve not managed a reply to him yet.”
“Yes, of course,” Helene says. She pauses to search Mr. Scamander’s face. The look on his face is one she can’t place exactly, but she thinks she understands. She keeps her voice carefully light and teasing. “Didn’t realize you needed a messenger, sir?”
Mr. Scamander darts a glance over at everyone else. Helene follows his gaze out of the corner of her eye. Nobody else is paying them much attention.
“Well, you know how it is. My reply would get there long after you left if I posted it now and would probably be meaningless. Anyway, check my recommendations first if you can. Maximize your time to yourself, if you’re allowed any.”
These letters are something to do with his suspicions about Percival Graves, then, and probably contain instructions. Helene nods earnestly. “I will, Mr. Scamander.”
Mr. Scamander smiles and steps back, nodding to her. “Good girl. Don’t enjoy yourself too much- I hear you can’t get a decent cup of tea for all the money in the world.”
“I’m sure I’ll survive somehow.”
The fireplace flares to life behind her. Theseus steps back and smiles crookedly.
“Do make sure to come back. I’d hate to have to find a new secretary.”
Helene laughs, shaking her head fondly. “Of course, sir.”
She steps in line behind the others with a final wave before Theseus turns and disappears back down the hall. Once the Undersecretary disappears they waits the requisite 30 seconds. No alarm comes. The secretary and Basil Carter step into the fire one after the other, and finally it’s Helene’s turn.
FILL [11/?]: Newt/other, eventual Gramander; arranged marriage, past abuse, h/c, learning to trust
------
Newt locks the cabin door behind him and pulls the tiny table into the middle of his small room, away from both the door and the window. His case is still open on the dresser and Hobbs is curled up in a depressed ball in the middle of the mussed sheets on the bed. Newt chuckles and lifts his eyebrows at the niffler.
“We’re on a ship. I don’t know what you thought you’d find in the cabin.”
Hobbs lifts his head and sniffs at Newt, eyes narrowed in annoyance.
“Not everywhere is open to thieving nifflers,” Newt says lightly, “You may not like it but it’s the best way to travel right now.”
Hobbs gives Newt an evil eye, which he ignores in favor of unfolding the Daily Prophet International. He drops the letter out of the folds and considers it, lying innocuously on the table as it is. There’s nothing to prove that the letter is from Theseus and the fact that it was presented by A Random Wizard doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. Then again, even if Theseus is indisposed by unlawful means, Newt can’t actually imagine anybody other than Theseus sending out letters to all corners of the wizarding community in hopes of reaching a wayward brother.
He drops the newspaper to the floor. When Theseus decided to train as an Auror, he insisted Newt learn every security spell known to wizardkind- and a few that weren’t, and Newt uses them all now. Once he is satisfied he slowly, gingerly, tears the seal. There is an immediate surge of magic, and Newt allows a tiny grin.
He knows that spell.
Copies of the letter have just gone up in flames around the world. Theseus came up with the spell during the Great War, one of the first things he did as part of the underground effort. It’s used by all Aurors in the Ministry, now. (Newt knows because everyone talks about it, even twelve years later.)
It’s only when he’s unfolding the parchment that he spares a thought to be grateful that this is just a letter, rather than a howler. (Though, to be fair, a howler would be much more difficult to make secure.)
Newton, my dear brother,
I hope you’re reading this before you’ve reached the Americas because it will mean you’ve not gone and died since your three sentence telegram (Mother’s still cross about that, by the way) and this warning isn’t moot. No sense in not trying.
I won’t dither. I have reason to believe that there is danger. What it is, I am unable to say. I only know with any certainty that Percival is not right. I fear something is amiss in the United States and most of all that the Magical Congress may be compromised.
I dare not give too many details of my suspicions, even with precautions taken on this letter. The paper may give you a hint of them; if we still think alike as we used to, I’ve no doubt you’ll figure it out.
Look, Newton, if you are planning on going through New York as part of your travels for any reason, please be careful. Try to avoid law enforcement. No more nundu-like escapades. (And I know, I know, yes, I’ve had people looking out for Newt sightings. I worry. Mother worries.)
Your brother,
Theseus
PS- Oh. I ought perhaps tell you now that Percival also had people looking for you in collusion with me. As you are not, in fact, married, before you decide to give the Americas a miss altogether kindly note that this was to make sure you were still alive and whole. Also for that reason, be extra careful if you have any reason to be in New York.
Newt reads the letter three times. In the middle of his second read through, the ship shudders and lurches and Newt all but jumps to his feet. All is calm but for the slow rumbling of the ship’s engines as they are stoked to full heat somewhere far below. Newt slowly sinks back into his chair and breathes out a sigh of relief. He turns back to the letter.
Only when he is In the middle of a third read-through does Newt absently look up and to the window. The harbor is shrinking as the ship pulls slowly away from the docks and it finally hits him that he is really moving away from Bata and towards North America. A brief panic flutters into his throat as he thinks of New York, and something wrong with his contracted fiance, and what does that even mean because Theseus may have a flair for the dramatic when it comes to the everyday mundane, but he’s not given to exaggeration when it comes to danger.
Newt resolutely swallows and taps his fingers on the table.
He reads the letter one last time. Then he picks up the paper and spreads it over his table. Headlines emblazon Grindlewald’s name and a last known photograph of Grindlewald stares up at him. His gaze is soulless. Newt shivers.
He skims through the articles, trying to think like Theseus.
If Theseus is worried that something is wrong in MACUSA, enough to write to Newt about it, there’s nothing trivial about it. From the letter, Theseus thinks Mr. Graves is not right and compromised, but can’t be sure whether Mr. Graves has been abducted, Impirius’d, or if he’s a simple turncoat (Newt’s chest tightens when he considers that Mr. Graves may be the cause of danger and he wildly wonders if Theseus would allow the contract to be broken). That means it’s more than likely that Theseus worries that the whole of the Magical Congress is compromised and it’s just a matter of how deep the corruption is embedded.
Newt considers Apparating off the ship immediately. It’s tricky on a moving object- and worse with his suitcase- but so long as Newt can see the shore he’ll be able to make it- he’s always been incredibly proficient in Apparating.
He could rebook passage to South America as he considered doing before finding Frank. He could still take Frank home from South America; it would just require more time. Did Bata have any ships that traveled between Africa and Brazil?
A knock sounds on the cabin door and Newt’s heart leaps to his throat. His wand is in his hand before he even realizes it. Another knock comes and Newt swallows.
“Y-Yes?”
“Mr. Scamander? The safety demonstration is in five minutes. Please report to the second class lounge.”
Newt breathes out a long sigh and stands up straighter. “Yes, of course. A moment, please.”
He burns the letter with a tap of his wand and banishes the pile of ash out to sea. He's on the ship and he's made his plans. Worrying means you suffer twice. He might as well stick with the plans he has.
+
Helene stands by international Floo fireplace with the Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, his own secretary, whom Helene has never met before, and the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation Basil Carter. They’re all waiting for the signal that the Americans are ready to receive them on the other side of the network. (She tries not to look too excited since none of them do.)
The Floo network is not always reliable when crossing oceans, so it’s only used when there is an urgent need for international travel and the trip is very carefully scheduled. (That, and Helene has never been to America. She’s hoping there will be some time to sightsee between talks.)
The last time there was a need for this fireplace the Great War was still raging and the American President of the Magical Congress of the United States held an emergency meeting with the Minister of Magic to discuss wizarding participation. This use of the Floo network being the first after such an even makes the trip somewhat historic- though probably not enough to make it into a history book.
“Helene, good, you’ve not left yet,” says Mr. Scamander’s voice.
Helene turns on her heel. Mr. Scamander approaches hurriedly. He pulls up to her and pauses to give a half bow of greeting to the others. There is an envelope in his hand.
“Minister, Undersecretary. Basil, ready for New York?”
“Always,” says Carter. He checks his watch. “If they’d open the bloody fireplace.”
The Undersecretary is checking his itinerary and papers and going over some last few points with the Minister. They absently nod in Mr. Scamander’s direction- Helene thinks the mumbles are meant to be a greeting- before forgetting to pay him any attention. The secretary to the Undersecretary is checking her nails.
Mr. Scamander shoves the letters at Helene with an attempt at a smile. She automatically puts her hand out and sees her name on the top envelope right away. The other envelope, much smaller, is firmly pressed into her palm in such a way that it can’t be seen.
“Helene,” he says, and she hears his falsely light tone right away, “I figured as long as I can’t join you for the forum I’d write a quick letter of introduction to some of my favorite people. There’s also a sheet with some information on New York you might find helpful.”
Helene slips the envelopes into her inner coat pocket smoothly and casts a quick spell to keep it securely closed until she’s ready to open it. “Thank you, sir.”
“Quite welcome. And if you see Percival Graves, please give him my regards. Tell him I’m sorry I’ve not managed a reply to him yet.”
“Yes, of course,” Helene says. She pauses to search Mr. Scamander’s face. The look on his face is one she can’t place exactly, but she thinks she understands. She keeps her voice carefully light and teasing. “Didn’t realize you needed a messenger, sir?”
Mr. Scamander darts a glance over at everyone else. Helene follows his gaze out of the corner of her eye. Nobody else is paying them much attention.
“Well, you know how it is. My reply would get there long after you left if I posted it now and would probably be meaningless. Anyway, check my recommendations first if you can. Maximize your time to yourself, if you’re allowed any.”
These letters are something to do with his suspicions about Percival Graves, then, and probably contain instructions. Helene nods earnestly. “I will, Mr. Scamander.”
Mr. Scamander smiles and steps back, nodding to her. “Good girl. Don’t enjoy yourself too much- I hear you can’t get a decent cup of tea for all the money in the world.”
“I’m sure I’ll survive somehow.”
The fireplace flares to life behind her. Theseus steps back and smiles crookedly.
“Do make sure to come back. I’d hate to have to find a new secretary.”
Helene laughs, shaking her head fondly. “Of course, sir.”
She steps in line behind the others with a final wave before Theseus turns and disappears back down the hall. Once the Undersecretary disappears they waits the requisite 30 seconds. No alarm comes. The secretary and Basil Carter step into the fire one after the other, and finally it’s Helene’s turn.
“MACUSA!” she barks, and steps through.