It was more intimidating than the first time he'd been handed a gun and told to try shooting a target, Jacob decided as he stood staring out into the crowd of faces, nearly all set with stern, disapproving looks upon them.

A British man called out "Scamander?" which caused Newt to startle.

His friend crouched down to shut his case, responding with a hesitant "Oh, er, hello Minister." Before straightening up and hunching in on himself.

"Theseus Scamander? The war hero?" asked someone else, but Jacob turned his attention to the man in question.

"No. This is his little brother." The first man stated, sounding suspicious. "And what in the name of Merlin are you doing in New York?"

He watched Newt's hands tighten on his case as he replied "I came to buy an Appaloosa Puffskein, sir." Jacob focussed on keeping a blank face, remembering that the 'real reason' was hidden inside that case… surrounded by the most vicious creatures on the planet. He'd found the animals swell and the thought of these people hurting them was enough to keep his own tendency to babble under control.

"Right." This minister squinted at Newt even more suspiciously and Jacob watched the young man struggle to keep his head up under the scrutiny. "What are you really doing here?"

There was a moment's silence where Newt's courage dropped and he scowled at the floor without answering, then a tall woman with dark skin and a regal bearing stepped forwards. The soft murmurings around the hall stopped as she commanded everyone's attention.

"Goldstein… and who is this?" The woman's eyes looked him over and Jacob acknowledged that he felt distinctly inadequate in her presence.

"This is Jacob Kowalski, Madam President." Tina's voice shook more than it ever had in the short time Jacob had known her. The change in the confident woman gave the man an idea of how powerful this woman must be. "He's a No-Maj who got bitten by one of Mr Scamander's creatures."

There was a sudden burst of noise around them, anger rippling through the air and Jacob flinched as he stood stock still, gaze firmly on the floor.

"Merlin's Beard!" He heard Newt yelp, and Jacob lifted his eyes enough to look at his friend.

"You know which of your creatures was responsible, Mr Scamander?" The Lady President asked, her cool tone making Jacob shudder slightly. He could see everyone looking up; he caught a slight glimpse of something silvery floating above his head…

"No creature did this… don't pretend!" Newt's voice was harsher than it generally was and Jacob finally tilted his head back enough to see what they were looking at. There was a body floating above them, limp and lifeless as it drifted. "You must know what that was, look at the marks…"

Jacob startled slightly as he recognised the silvery figure as Senator Shaw, face torn up badly enough that he was glad the image was not in regular colour.

"That was an Obscurus." Newt stated softly, his gaze following the figure.

Objections followed, though none sterner than the magical president's, "You go too far, Mr Scamander. There is no Obscurial in America." Her expression was fierce as she stood tall over them. "Impound that case, Graves."

There was magic in the air as the suitcase flew off to the side and Newt began to shout his objections, his wand flying through the air and over to Graves. Jacob found himself on his knees as the president ordered their arrest and beside him Tina was breathing hard; along from her, Newt was begging for his creatures' safety… As they knelt before cold, stern expressions, Newt's pleading was painful to hear.

"You don't understand! Nothing in there is dangerous! Nothing!" Jacob hung his head as Newt's cries fell on deaf ears. As they were pulled away and taken from the room, Newt's voice cracked with panic as he begged for his much loved creatures.

The wands that were jabbed into their backs served well to keep both Jacob and Tina quiet, the two Americans shuffling along in silence as their friend was literally dragged into the elevator. Jacob kept his head down, wishing he could think of something comforting to say as one of the wizards pulling them finally reached the end of his patience and told Newt to shut up; the muggle could feel the scorch of Newt's glare even as he kept his eyes down.

However, by the time they had been locked up and left alone, Newt's fire had died. He was slumped over in a corner, misery rolling from him as he stared blankly at his hands. Tina crouched down beside Jacob, looking him up and down as she tried to smile at him, "You okay?"

He nodded his head, wanting to rail at her for getting them pinched but unable to do so when he caught the devastated look on her face. She'd only been following the rules, he reminded himself, she'd brought all of Newt's wonderful animals to these unaccepting people only because someone was dead.

Tina stood up and turned to look at the tall, skinny man who had curled himself up as though trying to hide from them. "I'm so sorry about your creatures, Mr Scamander. I truly am." But Newt didn't reply.

Jacob remembered him stating that humans were the most dangerous creatures on the planet and Tina had handed all of fantastic creatures over to a government that didn't seem to have the slightest interest in them. It had to be the poor guy's worst nightmare… Once again, Jacob had to remind himself of the dead senator, someone had died so of course this upright and law-abiding woman had done what she thought best to protect their city.

"Can someone please tell me what this Obscurial Obscurius thing is, please?" He whispered to Tina, remembering the floating blob in Newt's case. The man had pulled him away, but had failed to explain anything about what it was.

Tina looked over at him, concern etched into her face, "There hasn't been one for centuries."

"I met one in Sudan three months ago." Newt interrupted, his voice was also soft, but it had a different feel to it, filled with an anguish deeper than both Jacob's, who had only just met the fabulous beasts, and Tina's, who hadn't even seen them before handing them over to a hall full of people. "There used to be more of them, but they still exist. Before wizards went underground, when we were still being hunted by muggles, young witches and wizards sometimes tried to suppress their magic to avoid persecution. Instead of learning to harness or control their powers they developed what was called an Obscurus."

Jacob shuddered slightly as he thought of people so filled with hatred that they were unable to accept even themselves. He considered the woman who stood outside the bank and shouted about witches; he couldn't imagine hating magic so much that he felt the need to frighten others. Even the knowledge that some… thing… had killed the senator… well, men killed each other all the time in any number of gruesome ways, they needed no magic for that.

"It's an unstable, uncontrollable dark force that bursts out and, and attacks! And then vanishes…" Tina fell silent, her eyes widening as she looked over at Newt. "Obscurials can't survive long, can they?"

"There's no documented case of any Obscurial surviving past the age of ten." Newt told her as Jacob's mind worked through the information he had. The thing that had killed the senator had been some terrified child? "The one I met in Africa was eight when she… she was eight when she died."

"What are you telling me here? That Senator Shaw was killed by a – by a kid?" Jacob asked in horror, still struggling to gather everything together. Newt cast a solemn glance in his direction and Jacob let out a long breath; a child did that?

"Wait, a dark force?" he spoke up again, recalling rumours that had been drifting of a storm cloud with eyes that had been causing havoc, people unsure whether it was true or not, whether it was a symptom of drink, or of a demon. "Not… not gas pipes?"

"No. What has been going on in your city hasn't been the result of problems with any kind of technology."

"But that… Obscurial thing was still in your case." He objected, thoughts of a dark force ruining New York made him shiver.

"The Obscurus was still in my case when I last had it, though if they've gone through and have released it from my preservation spell… but that host…" Newt stumbled again, and Jacob recognised the guilt in his expression when he spoke of the little girl. "Well, she's been too long dead for it to draw any more power. It'll dissipate too quickly to cause any trouble."

"You think there's another one here?" Tina stated, her voice resigned as she sat heavily down on the floor, shaking slightly in the chill of the dungeon.

"If they acknowledge it." Newt pressed his face into his knees. "Governments often looks for the simplest explanations so that everything can go back to normal."

"Mr Graves won't." Tina stated confidently, managing to give them both a slight smile when they looked to her. "He knows you've only just got here and he'll want to track down what's really going on."

"Maybe." Newt replied, but the smile was falling off his face again.

"I'm so sorry about your creatures." Tina stated again, but her earnest expression was apparently too much for the young man, who turned away from her.

Jacob frowned slightly, "What do you mean? Won't they let you look after them while they do this investigation? They're alive, they'll need feeding." His mind drifted to the Occamies, to the Mooncalves, to all the other lovely inhabitants.

"He doesn't have a permit for them in this country." Tina began, but Newt cut in.

"They'll destroy them. This country has no respect for the creatures that inhabit this land alongside them." He turned back to glare at Tina, his face far more fierce than Jacob had seen yet. "It's almost impossible to get a permit because they are so suspicious."

"We have people preachin' on street corners about the existence of witches and how to ought to be burned at the stake!" Tina's voice was rising now, the stress of their situation getting to them; Jacob wished he hadn't said anything. He wasn't good at arguing, he didn't like raised voices… his struggle to raise his own voice in response was probably part of the reason Mildred had left him after he'd failed in the bank yesterday…

Yesterday felt like a lifetime ago, he acknowledged as the other two continued to bucker. It was only one day ago that he'd been failed to speak up for himself well enough to Mr Bingley to agree to help him out, one day since Mildred had told him that if he couldn't contribute to a happy family life, then she was going to look elsewhere… and he had been unable to ask her to give him another chance… One long day since the Occamy had hatched, looked up at Jacob and had pulled him into this world of magic.

"What's gonna happen to us?" He wondered aloud, wishing he could go home, sleep and have a good think about everything,

"You'll be Obliviated." Tina said, trying for a smile but it held no joy.

"And I'll forget everything."

There was silence as he absorbed this devastating fact; he'd not be allowed any of this anymore. He'd forget Tina and Newt and the Occamies… he'd forget the funny little Niffler and the lustful Erumpent… Worst of all, he'd forget the most stunning woman he'd ever met, Queenie.

It tore at his heart to think he'd never know her smile again, never taste her cooking, and yet… yet there was a part of him that was almost relieved. The idea of falling in love again, especially while his mind still filled with Mildred… They'd had a blast, once; Mildred and himself. They'd gone out and drank alcohol from flasks, giggling at their proximity to policemen, they'd gone dancing and laughed at her mother's horror… But drinking and dancing and laughing weren't the same as having a stable job and raising a family. The thought of doing it all over again with someone new, even someone as fabulous as Queenie…

Well, he was no catch; he had a dull job, no living family and, come whenever they took his memory, no friends. Queenie had magic! She could cook and sew and smile, she had a job and a home, a sister and… he pulled his mind back. For all he knew, Queenie had a sheik of her own, some swell guy who hadn't been taken in off the streets just because he'd gotten bitten by some foreigner's pet.

Tina and Newt were still quiet, their faces matching with the almost frightened expressions that they both wore.

"What about you guys?" It dawned on him that Tina had only answered part of his question. "What'll happen to you?"

"I don't know." Tina wrapped her arms around her own body, visibly trying to collect herself. "I… Well, it depends. If they acknowledge that none of Mr Scamander's creatures are responsible, then he should be fined and sent back to England. And me… I'll probably have to join Queenie in making coffee."

She looked so miserable at this that Jacob almost left it there, but he wanted to know. "What if they don't?"

"I'll be fined and fired… Mr Scamander…" she gave him a scared glance before looking back at the floor. "When it comes to foreign wizards, it often depends who shouts the loudest. If he was American then he'd be tried according to our laws and executed, but the British put people with the Dementors, which suck people's souls out. He… Hopefully Mr Graves will be allowed to do a proper investigation and he'll just be sent away."

There was silence for a moment as Jacob stared at her, horror making his chest ache as he shared Tina's hope. "They- your soul? Wha- What's left?"

"Just the body." Newt replied, his voice so soft it was difficult to hear. "Heart still beating but there's no person left."

"What happens to the soul? Does it… move on?" Would he get to Heaven, or be stuck in a dark limbo until Judgement Day?

"They feed off the soul…" Newt said after another long silence. "I don't think… I don't think it can survive that. When Dementors are banished, they… well, even when they… die, though no one has ever been able to determine how alive they are, but when you come across their husk, it's just that; an empty husk and a fetid cloak."

Tina let out a whimper, hands clamped over her mouth as her eyes widened. "Executioners." She whispered, her voice muffled as two people made their way over.

"Miss Goldstein, Mr Scamander, if you'll come this way."

The cell was opened and neither of the magical authority folk looked to Jacob, rightfully dismissing him as no threat to them. Newt and Tina looked pale and dreadfully young as they stepped out and accepted the shackles. Even though there was nothing he could do, Jacob staggered to his own feet as the cell was locked again, watching them lead his friends away.

"It was good to make your acquaintance, Jacob." Newt called back in an almost casual voice. "And I hope you get your bakery."

They disappeared but Jacob stayed where he was, trying desperately to etch Newt firmly in his mind; thoughts of soul sucking creatures and executions kept straying through, and the thought that he would never see the bright young man again made him want to retch. The thought of having his memory scrubbed was, as it had been when he'd thought of Queenie, a blessing and a curse.

"Friendship." He whispered to the empty darkness after a while and far too late for the other man to hear him. "We're friends, not acquaintances."

And he wondered if Newt was even still around to correct.

Gellert composed himself as the door to the interrogation room opened and the workers led both Miss Goldstein and Mr Scamander inside; he tried not to look too eager. As the boy was pushed into the seat before him, Gellert looked him over; he was a healthy looking young man, slender and tanned, if a little awkward already.

During the Great War, he had taken the chance to further his study of both death and life. Death had been abundant; muggles killing muggles, wizards joining in as their attachments to the muggles dragged them into the fighting. But it was life that made a real difference, life that influenced people. A fear of their own death certainly gave people hesitations, but the love of life was typically stronger. Or perhaps it was a combination of the two, both one and the other. He didn't mean a love of life in some frivolous manner, but life - in a sense that was somewhat mundane and typical, people going about their business, but more specifically he meant life as in children. People didn't fear their own death half as much as they feared for their offspring, the muggles had gone to war to keep their mundane lives as dull as ever, to protect the children they left behind; in realising this, Gellert had formed a plan.

To say he wanted children of his own would not be an entirely accurate statement. As with everything in his life, the thought of children led Gellert back to Albus Dumbledore; to say he wanted children with the other man was decidedly more true, even more so now than it had been a decade earlier. Now it had been more than twenty five years since Ariana's death, since the breath of a kiss that didn't quite happen had ghosted across his lips; he still felt its absence keenly. To have a child with Albus would be a means to the end of getting the man to walk through this life with him once more; although he did concede the idea that a child would likely become a larger part of his life than a simple part of a plan. Something created from both himself and Albus? He would likely get attached.

These days, Albus Dumbledore had settled into life as a teacher, educating young minds to hone their magic and likely never thinking about their plans to integrate wizard and muggle society for their betterment. Gellert was brilliant in many ways, but he acknowledged that this was one area in which he needed help; he had no real understanding of muggles and their peculiarities, he was better with those in Europe, where the majority of muggles turned a blind eye to anything unusual, but in America he had learned that the muggles were far more paranoid… far easier to manipulate.

And so Gellert was in an uncomfortable position of having two plans, one he had developed with the acceptance that Albus may never agree to be near him again, but the other involved him deeply. The former was the one he was working on, starting a war with the American No-Maj society and forcing the wizards to show themselves… but his favoured plan was no longer an impossibility and before him, hunched up and staring blankly at his hands, sat the key.

Every story he had heard of Albus Dumbledore in recent years suggested that he was perfectly happy at Hogwarts School, unlikely to remove himself from the comfortable setting where his life was a regular, assured cycle. Therefore, Gellert had decided years ago that the best way to shake him up would be to give him someone to teach that would cause him to leave; a child of his own to raise and love. However, Gellert's love was a jealous one and he refused to see some woman lie with the man, even if it was for the Greater Good, to bring the man back to Gellert's side and ready to focus on freeing themselves from secrecy.

Consequently, he began to work with researchers who had notes and theories which were only in the first, very basic stages of development. In the time after Albus began his work as a teacher up until the end of the war, when wizards unfortunately found and dismantled both of his facilities, Gellert had funded and encouraged the men running the facilities in their work; in their quest to allow men to bear children.

The Great War had allowed him far more ease in collecting subjects to test their work on, but it had been soldiers who had stumbled across his facilities twice, wizards of course, but those fighting muggle wars nonetheless. His work on the possibility of giving Albus children had come to a complete halt and Gellert had mourned the chance to reunite with the man he loved. Eventually, he decided to set wizardkind free anyway, he would force the muggles to accept them or die and… he did rather hope that eventually, Albus would realise how needed he was and so would return to Gellert's side.

But now, unexpectedly, he had sitting before him one of the two subjects who had survived. Scamander would be unable to recognise him through the polyjuice, unaware that he was anyone but Percival Graves… and he had a decision to make. Did he drop his plan to make war, steal the boy away and see whether or not he could conceive? He thought of Graves, held captive just outside the city; he could force the two to mate and see if the work done on the boy had been successful; there no need to include others and no need for Gellert to become intimate with anyone other than Albus…

If it hadn't worked, he would need to explain himself to Picquery, find some reason why Graves would want to steal some trembling wizard away from MACUSA, never to be seen again. If it did work, he would need time to prepare his own body, then find some way to reach Albus; once by his side, Gellert was confident that he could seduce the other man, even if only for one night. He'd perhaps need to disguise himself as someone else and hide in Hogsmeade until the Transfiguration teacher visited the village.

But if anything went wrong… was it worth the high risk of ruining his plan to make war for the chance to have a child with Albus? In his heart, he wanted to say yes, to say he would leave everything behind for a chance to live with Albus, to explore life and death… for a chance to master Death with Albus by his side. He already had the Elder Wand, having taken it from the wand maker nearly twenty years ago; surely with Albus, he could discover the others and together they could master Death. However, in his mind, logic warred with desire.

As he sat in the silence of the interrogation room, the prisoners both squirming uncomfortably at the length of it, Gellert imagined Albus handing the Cloak of Invisibility over to their son before they accepted Death together… And it would, of course, be Albus who mastered Death. He was more intelligent than Gellert, more charming, more patient… he would be able to keep them hidden from Death, protected by the Wand and strengthened by the Stone.

But the Stone made him think of Ariana, the girl who had died because she had feared muggles witnessing her magic. Muggles had frightened her so badly that she had killed Albus' mother; another reason why their societies should exist together. Credence Barebone was an Obscurial, his own magical force wreaking havoc through New York, Ariana had been another… and inside Scamander's case, he had found a preserved Obscurus – evidence of yet another child who had been frightened into rejecting their magic. It was enough to make a man spit with anger that wizards, the superior species, having to cower and hide themselves away from muggles.

The reminder spurred him on. He had to think of the Greater Good and as nice as it would be to settle down and raise a family with Albus, wizards needed him to expose them; they were paralysed with fear, but he would show the muggles why they ought to be the ones trembling.

"You're an interesting man, Mr Scamander." He stated at last, startling the young man slightly.

"Mr Graves." Goldstein's face was pale, her expression far less confident than it had been when they had first entered. He shushed her, like a parent halting the excuses of a misbehaving child.

"You were thrown out of Hogwarts for endangering human life with a beast." He stated, as he ignored Scamander's protests and continued on, examining the file before him as though he didn't know every word. "Yet one of your teachers argued strongly against your expulsion. Now, what makes Albus Dumbledore so fond of you?"

Gellert stared intently at the young man, genuinely curious why this young man had gained Albus' favour. Scamander curled smaller in his chair, "I really couldn't say." He claimed as he avoided eye contact.

Gellert didn't push the matter. He could press until Scamander told him the truth or else he could force the boy's head up and pick the answers out of his head, but he simply moved on. He had to focus on the Greater Good, not Albus.

"So setting a pack of dangerous creatures loose here was just another accident, is that right?"

"Why would I do it deliberately?"

"To expose wizardkind. To provoke war between the magical and non-magical worlds." Was it a possibility? He had clearly come across an Obscurial, seen first-hand the devastation that the muggle community enforced and perhaps he would understand.

The look on Scamander's face suggested he didn't, but his words, "Mass slaughter for the Greater Good, you mean?" implied that the boy might know more than he wanted to about the injustice of keeping their magic hidden.

"Yes, quite."

"I'm not one of Grindelwald's fanatics, Mr Graves." The boy claimed, his soft voice now confidently condemning himself as useless to Gellert's current plans with his rude words.

Gellert fought back a scowl as he retrieved the Obscurus that had been existing inside Scamander's case. "I wonder what you can tell me about this, Mr Scamander."

The dark force truly was a fascinating thing, and he wondered if the host was still alive and able to use magic… or if this thing was the embodiment of their magic and the host was a squib without it.

"It's an Obscurus, but it's not what you think." Scamander was looking back at Goldstein's shocked face. "I managed to separate it from the Sudanese girl as I tried to save her. I wanted to take it home, to study it – But it cannot survive outside that box. It could not hurt anyone, Tina."

The young man was pleading with his friend, but Gellert took note of the fact that he had tried to save the girl. It only fuelled his resolve; it was wrong to hide from muggles when this was something so completely integral to who they were that the separation from it would kill them.

"So it's useless without the host?" which was a shame. He wouldn't need Barebone to hunt amongst the children if he had had an Obscurus ready to use with him now. In fact, if he had been able to take this one with him, preserved until it was needed then he could have spent some time trying to retrieve Albus, but no matter…

"Useless? Useless? That is a parasitical magical force that killed a child? What on Earth would you use it for?" Misery and fear had finally given way to anger, proving once again that love of life, especially the life of a child was a far better way to influence someone than a fear of their own death.

There was something in the boy's eyes now, a calculating look that showed, even without resorting to legilimency, that Scamander was starting to realise there was something off about the Director of Magical Security. He pressed the blame back to Scamander, stopping the young man before he could question anything in front of the two executioners.

"You fool nobody, Mr Scamander. You brought this Obscurus into the city of New York in the hope of causing mass disruption, breaking the Statute of Secrecy and revealing the magical world-"

"You know that can't hurt anyone! You know that!" Scamander raised his voice, eyes widening as he realised he was being condemned.

"You are therefore guilty of a treasonous betrayal of your fellow wizards and are sentenced to death. Miss Goldstein, who has aided and abetted you-"

"No! She's done nothing of the kind!" Scamander objected, but Goldstein had always been too observant, too aware of the differences between himself and Graves even when they were identical.

"She receives the same sentence."

Without a word, the executioners stepped forwards, wand tips pressed against the necks of the prisoners.

"Just do it immediately. I will inform President Picquery myself."

"Tina…" Scamander's voice was far softer than it had been, but filled with regret.

"Shh…" Gellert hushed him, shooing them out the room.

Silently, the two were led away and the door swung shut on the last hope Gellert had had for reconciling with Albus. Anger bubbled inside as he pressed his hands into his face and resisted the urge to yell; how was he supposed to find happiness without the man that he loved?

Breathing hard, he began to fill in the paperwork, forcing his hand to write neatly and not ruin the paper. The Greater Good was a difficult goal and he had to acknowledge that perhaps his own happiness would not be possible at the end.

"Not impossible though." He whispered through clenched teeth.

And it wasn't. He had one of the three Hallows, finding the other two wasn't impossible; he may be able to live long enough to find happiness outside Albus Dumbledore, even if he was unable to visualise anything to do with this lonely joy… He focussed again on the paper in front of him, he'd get this done, talk to Picquery, have a cup of tea and check in with Barebone.

"Newton Artemis Fido Scamander." He murmured, dipping his quill in his ink again. "Date of birth: 20th April 1900. Son of…"

The background fear had been piling up and up, but now it was rapidly becoming a panic and Queenie dropped the tray of drinks that she had been carrying as she realised what was happening to her sister.

They were going to kill Tina! She turned and ran from the meeting room, hurrying towards the main lobby. She needed a plan, any plan! She needed to do something!

As she looked around, Sam exited the elevator with Jacob following behind. She dashed over and Jacob met her eyes; she could have sagged with relief as she realised that he hadn't had his memory wiped yet.

"Hey Sam." She called as she stepped up to the men.

He only glanced at her. "Hey Queenie."

"They need you downstairs. I'll Obliviate this guy."

He immediately thought she was aiming for a promotion, Tina's drop in pay drifting through his mind as he scowled at her, "You ain't qualified." But his eyes drifted across to the women nearby and she was more than happy to use the information she picked up, both from reading minds and from gossip.

"Hey Sam, does Cecily know you been seeing Ruby?" She asked as innocently as she could manage.

Sam gaped at her before nervously returning Ruby's smile. "How'd you…?"

"Let me Obliviate this guy and she'll never hear about it from me."

It really was too easy sometimes, she mused as Sam hurried off and she began to march Jacob back through the lobby.

"What are you doing'?" Jacob looked nervous, and she saw the fear he had for Newt clear as day in his thoughts. Tina had apparently told Jacob that she'd probably be demoted again, as though that was the worst they would do to her.

"Shh! Teen's in trouble. I'm trying to listen." They had a close bond and a lifetime of Tina letting Queenie in and out of her head as she pleased meant it was easier to tap into her mind without having her there. Their mom's voice drifted through her mind, jarring her back slightly as she realised they'd already retrieved her happy memories. The fear had been suddenly muted and changed into a vague contentment with nostalgia mixing through. "Jacob, where's Newt's case?"

He frowned for a moment as he thought, fear for Tina now starting to permeate his mind, "I think that Graves guy took it."

"Okay." They'd just have to go get it from his office. "Come on."

Jacob cocked his head slightly. "What, you're not gonna Obliviate me?"

She grinned at him as best she could with Tina's muted happiness in the back of her mind. "Of course not, you're one of us now!"

He gave her a stunned look before following her, one that left her feeling a little flushed; it had been nothing to do with her appearance and everything to do with her own self.

"Come on. I'd rather not take the elevator and have Red know where we are."

Jacob made an agreeing hum and they hurried along, neither wanting to be spotted breaking the Director's office.

"It's just this one." She whispered, trying the door. "Locked."

"Do you have a key?" Jacob asked, the different creatures in Newt's case flitting across his mind, closely followed by concern for them.

"No." She pulled out her wand, hoping his didn't have any alarm spells set up. "Alohomora. Aberto!"

But nothing happened, she glared at the lock as Jacob kept an eye out.

She couldn't help growling "Ugh, he would know a fancy spell to lock his office!" before glancing around, trying to think of something else.

"So he has… stronger magic? Or is it just that there's one spell that needs using here?"

"Could be either. Though, he is a very strong wizard." She sighed and looked at the barrier. They really needed to hurry. "I'd try a blasting jinx if I didn't think it'd backfire."

"Here." Jacob tugged her back slightly and stepped in between her and the door. "Let me try a bit of muggle magic."

She giggled softly, "You mean No-Maj." But she stepped back all the same.

"Newt says muggle." He replied, glancing back at her for a moment.

"That's cos he's British. You're American." And she grinned at him, the light-hearted chatter helping to calm her down.

"Oh." But then Jacob kicked the door and it smashed open, banging back.

Muggle magic, she thought as she grinned slightly. Magical folk didn't tend to bother with brute force and apparently didn't even think to charm against it. She slipped inside and grabbed the case; her sister's wand was there too, but Newt's wasn't. She frowned slightly, glancing quickly about. It wasn't in easy sight. She went to try a few drawers, but they were locked and she didn't want to hang around.

Mentally apologising to the wizard, Queenie hurried out without it.

"Oh!" she startled as she stepped outside, Tina's mind had just flooded with hope! It hadn't expelled the fear, but Queenie grinned and began running for the stairs. "Come on, we're not too late yet."

Down the stairs they went and marched smartly into the Death Cell Corridor, trying to look confident. There was an alarm going off so the wizards hurrying past weren't paying much attention to them.

"You know where we're going?"

"Yeah, just down here." They made all new members of MACUSA tour the building, letting them glimpse the Death Cells; it worked well as a deterrent for any serious crimes people might want to commit, showing the consequences to people before the thoughts had even occurred to them.

"Oh!" Tina yelped as they narrowly avoided walking into each other.

Queenie took a moment, her eyes flitting over Tina's face as she took in every nuance of her appearance, her mind sailing through her sister's as she checked the other woman was all right.

Reassured for the moment, she showed them Newt's case. "Get in!" and none of them argued. "Wait, here you go, Tina. Sorry, Newt. I couldn't find your wand."

As Tina accepted her wand back gratefully and clambered after Jacob into the case, Newt sighed unhappily, "Don't worry. I have this one that I picked up on our way out. I don't have much luck with wands that aren't my own though, so I'll try not need to use it."

He turned to get in, then paused.

"Thank you."

She knew he meant for more than turning up to help. The love he had for his creatures was almost overwhelming.

"You're welcome."

She shut the case after him then hurried off back upstairs. The lobby was bustling with people and she scuttled quickly off to grab her coat from the cloakroom, trying not to flinch as Mr Graves stormed past her, unguarded enough that she could feel panic penetrating his mind.

"Queenie!" She jumped, turning in what she hoped was a casual move as she looked over at Abernathy. "Where you going?"

"I'm… I'm sick, Mr Abernathy." He was decidedly sweet on her and not even in a lecherous way, but he really wasn't her type. That didn't mean she wouldn't deliberately fluster him to get her own way though.

"Again?" It had actually been a while since she'd last been sick, but she typically managed to get out of his way fast enough when she was feeling well. "Well, what've you got in there?"

Mercy Lewis, she didn't need this! She racked her brains for a moment, "Ladies' things!" she exclaimed before hurrying over. "You wanna take a look? I don't mind."

"Oh, Good Gravy! No!" As snappy as he tended to get with Tina, he was actually a gentleman most of the time, the two often set each other off. "I – You get well now!"

She fixed his tie, watching all the thoughts fly from his mind as he noted how close she was. "Thanks!" she smiled and pressed on, out the building. From the doorstep, just out of view of any passing No-Maj, she disapparated back home.

"Tina? Jacob? Newt?" she called as she opened the case and leaned over to look down.

"Hey. I'll go get them." Tina smiled up at her. "They went off to feed the things in here, I think."

"Nah, I'll come down."

The girls headed through and Queenie grinned as she saw the place that had been on Jacob's mind.

"Oh, it's beautiful."

"Thank you." Newt smiled at her, a more genuine expression than he had managed so far.

"It's pretty big in here." She noted as she looked out over the mini environments.

Newt grinned again, his creatures helping to relax him after a stressful time. "I've been in bigger ones, but this is the best my magic can produce."

"Couldn't you get someone to help make it bigger for you?" Tina asked, stepping closer to Queenie and pressing close to her. Queenie had no qualms about wrapping her arms around her sister.

"Well, I could but, er, it'd be a waste of time unless they were going to travel with me. Every time I need to tweak one of the areas, it snaps back to what my own magic can make."

"What do you mean?" Jacob asked, and Queenie smiled as she saw how he was genuinely trying to listen to and understand everything about their world.

"Well, this case is attuned to my magic. Theseus, my brother, helped me to design it, but I had to make it myself. If he had made it with me, then he would need to be here every time I wanted to change everything." He frowned slightly, and she could tell he was trying to decide if his words had been clear enough. "No one can change anything in here, except for me because I made it. If anyone else tries to fiddle with my magic then it won't work. If they're weaker than me then nothing will happen and if they're more powerful then all they'll do is break the charm and end up crushed under all my creatures on top of a ruined and wholly unremarkable case."

"So it's strong… but delicate and only you can find the balance?" Jacob asked and Queenie couldn't help but thrill at how quickly he was picking things up.

"Put simply, yes." Newt smiled briefly, but then he looked up at her. "Where are we?"

"At our apartment."

"Is it safe to be here?" He asked, and she heard him note in his own mind that it was an obvious place to go.

She looked around at them. "Where else can we hide? They know where Tina and me live… and they probably know where you live." She added, glancing at Jacob.

"Would they come up to the rooftops?" and for a moment, she saw a young boy hiding from the world as he sat on his grandfather's knee and looked out over the city, the deep rumble of the man's voice a comfort even though the words were indistinguishable.

"Good idea." She smiled. "You guys stay in here. Hey, can I look again?"

Jacob nodded and this time she took note of where exactly she was going. Hugging her sister again, she trotted out and disapparated.

"To the roof." She murmured, hurrying up the stairs and pointing her wand to unlock the door.

Once up, she locked the door and opened the case. The other three scrambled out and she stepped back as they began to move about, taking a moment to actually relax.

"Your grandfather kept pigeons?" she asked as she followed Jacob into the shed. "Mine bred owls, I used to love feeding 'em."

"Owls?" Jacob looked up, a smile spreading across his face. "I don't know anyone who keeps owls."

"Oh, plenty of witches and wizards have at least one owl in the family. We use 'em to send letters." Not that she and Tina had one, no need when their family was all dead and they had no close friends to write to. Their friends from Ilvermorny had kind of fallen away after graduation and everyone had settled into their own lives.

"Don't they get lost?"

"Nah, owls are real clever."

"Magic, right?" But his grin was so wide that she couldn't help laughing.

"Right." She thought for a moment. "Well, maybe. I've never thought about it. No-Majs know about them so maybe not."

"I'll ask Newt." Jacob said with a softer smile. He had a new-found fondness for animals that he'd never expected.

"Queenie? Jacob?" Tina stood in the doorway. "We've had an idea of where to go."

"Where?" Jacob stood up and stepped out of his shed.

Queenie looked at her sister and grinned, she enjoyed getting dressed up for an evening. "Dark business in an evil part of the city." She teased.

"What?" Jacob looked startled.

"We're going to talk to a goblin in a Speakeasy. Come on." Tina rolled her eyes as she headed back over to Newt, who was looking down at his feet with a slither of a smile on his lips.

"Not quite the underworld then?" Jacob raised his brow with another grin.

She laughed and replied, "You might be surprised."

There was an owl hooting nearby, having likely stopped by to deliver a letter. He wondered if it was supposed to have been delivered to him, or if it was actually intended for his imposter. Once or twice, owls had arrived here with letters for the Director of Magical Security and sometimes those letters went to Grindelwald.

It was cold though, the condensation on the small window at the top of the room beginning to freeze over again.

"Isn't it just typical," Grindelwald had returned, a sneer fixed on his pale face as he stormed over to Graves and yanked a hair out, "you make a sacrifice for the Greater Good and the condemned prisoners escape."

Percival startled, but he turned his attention to the monster in the room.

"Who?" he croaked, throat painfully dry but he wanted to know who had been condemned to death by a madman wearing his face.

"Newton Artemis Fido Scamander and Porpentina Esther Goldstein. I do wish troublemakers would have shorter names, don't you?"

Tina? He'd sentenced Tina to death? She was a young auror whose skills were constantly improving; when she managed to keep herself quiet, she generally took in an awful lot of what was going on around her. She must have seen through Grindelwald's act.

"No matter. When the aurors catch him, they will kill him. Can't risk hanging onto someone who set an Obscurus loose on the city just because he'd from England, right?"

Scamander… Percival frowned, keeping his head tucked into his chest even as Grindelwald turned and left the room. Scamander… Theseus' brother? He cast his mind back, trying to think of what he knew about the younger brother.

Not a lot… Theseus was a chatty man, but his words were never about anything personal. However, Percival had met Newton before. They'd pulled him out of a research centre that had been posing as a hospital, one of two survivors. They'd suspected that the facilities had belonged to Grindelwald at the time, but there had been no solid proof to verify this.

Newton had been a skinny, quiet lad who had clung to him. He tried to remember how young the boy had been, seventeen? Eighteen? Trauma often warped a person's appearance, making their age difficult to guess.

He hadn't seemed like a troublemaker at the time, but his personality had likely been subdued inside that place. The other man they had found there had been older, but even worse off; entirely hollow in a way that had made Percival shudder.

Theseus had never mentioned Newton to him again after his brother had been taken to St. Mungo's in London, but that didn't give any indication of what might have happened to the boy as he wasn't a close friend of the British auror.

Maybe he was only a troublemaker in so much as he had realised there was something wrong with the supposed Director of Magical Security; Theseus was a sharp man, it stood to reason that his brother would have some intelligence about him.

Percival shifted just his body as he tried to sleep, wrists too weighed down by the shackles to budge. They were in winter, but he wondered what month it was… even with a slight glimpse though one small window into the outside world, he felt like he had been down here for a lifetime.

He could only hope that things would soon be coming to a head. The moment Grindelwald had sentenced Newton to death, he had changed things; the Ministry of Magic wouldn't sit around and do nothing as a British wizard was killed, especially if there was no official trial to condemn the young man, which there hadn't been time for, unless Grindelwald had kept this particular bit of information under wraps. It didn't seem likely.

Percival sighed and shifted again. There was no need to get himself worked up anyway, he was useless to MACUSA at the moment anyway.

He could do nothing but hope.

A/N: A sheik is an attractive man. Also, in 1920s America, the 18th Amendment forbid people from making and selling alcohol.