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❛ ᴏғ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀs & ᴍᴇɴ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ʙʀɪᴇғᴄᴀsᴇ ʙʟᴜɴᴅᴇʀs ꒱


❝ I WOULDN'T HAVE
NECESSARILY USED THAT
LANGUAGE BUT I AGREE ❞

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Unlike London's subterranean Ministry of Magic, most of America's magical government was located above ground in a tall, white building. Lyra looked around the unfamiliar territory apprehensively, uncertain if they could trust the American witch or their new surroundings. She supposed their now-busy environment was better than an abandoned alleyway but she wasn't about to thank the short-haired woman for bringing them here.

Irritably, the Asian woman shook off their prosecutor's firm grip on her arm. "I can walk by myself, thanks."

"Don't stray," the witch told her reproachfully in response as she continued to guide them up a set of wide, ornate stairs to the larger atrium area.

The brunette rolled her eyes and chose not to respond, favoring instead to take in the extravagant gold gilding that seemed to flash from every high point of the room. Since she was used to magic, she wasn't too impressed by the floating conveyors, whirling clocks or the seemingly endless reach of the— quite literal— skyscraper. Lyra grimaced sympathetically at the poor House-elf that was forced to serve snobby government employees as he cleaned their wands dutifully. The sight had caught Newt's attention as well and she could practically read his thoughts from the concerned look he gave the interaction.

They approached one of the many lifts and the woman paused at the sight of a long-nosed goblin who greeted her: "hey, Goldstein."

"Hey, Red," she replied brusquely before she pushed her two British captives into the elevator. "Major Investigation Department."

"I thought you was. . ."

"Major Investigation Department!" she cut him off. "I got a Section 3A."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

". . . this could mean exposure. It could mean war." A woman's authoritative voice was speaking when the trio entered the room. As they came out of the shadows, she turned to them with a curt expression on her face. "I made your position here quite clear, Miss Goldstein."

The woman— Goldstein— tried to protest, "yes, Madam President, but I. . ."

"You are no longer an Auror."

"No, Madam President, but. . ."

"Goldstein."

"There's been a minor incident. . ."

"Well, this office is currently concerned with very major incidents. Get out."

"Yes ma'am."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

"You no longer have any authority?" Lyra exclaimed indignantly as they went hurtling downward in the lift. "On what grounds do you have the ability to keep us here, then?"

"You still caused a scene at a No-Maj bank, you cast spells in the presence of a No-Maj and then let the same No-Maj get away with his memory intact," Goldstein reminded her sharply. "I think I have every right to keep you here until someone can take care of the mess you caused."

"Well, if you let us go then maybe we could fix it ourselves! You never even gave us a chance—"

"Ly."

The Asian woman glowered at the American witch. "Well, it's true," she complained. "We've been wrongfully charged, Newt!"

"Well, technically we did let everything she said happen," he pointed out unhelpfully.

"That's one opinion," she huffed. "The other is that it wasn't our fault— it was the Nifflers'!"

"Our Niffler."

Tina stayed quiet as she listened to the pair squabble like children, unwillingly amused by their bickering— if she didn't know any better, she'd say it was similar to an old married couple's.

They finally arrived at their destination in the basement of the MACUSA where rows upon rows of desks greeted them. Papers were stacked haphazardly into precarious piles while loose sheets floated magically around the room. Typewriters clicked away by themselves as they wrote up documents and memos to unknown people. Squeaking, mice-shaped paper wreaked havoc on the already disorganized desks as they passed by. Lyra had to admit that that was something their Ministry could have— they were sort of cute, really. (Until they tore each other apart, at least.)

A sign reading Wand Permit hung at head-hitting level towards the back of the office and they ducked underneath it as the ex-Auror took off her coat, "so, you got your wand permit? All foreigners have to have them in New York."

"I made a postal application weeks ago," Lyra answered. She turned to the curly-haired man. "You sent yours in, right? I only reminded you every day."

"Yes— yes, I sent it in."

She nodded approvingly; Newt was terribly forgetful at the worst of times. He'd even— occasionally— forgotten her in the field and she'd had to send him a message by way of Patronus so he could come back for her.

Goldstein eyed them suspiciously for their responses as she jotted down notes. "And you were just in Equatorial Guinea?"

"We've just completed a year in the field," he explained. "I'm writing a book about magical creatures and Ly—Lyra is. . ."

"A colleague," she finished for him, as it was the most concise way to explain their relationship to outsiders.

The brunette studied them for a minute. "Like. . . an extermination guide?" she asked, referring to the book.

Lyra snorted (the very thought of Newt ever harming an animal was laughable) as he shook his head. "No. A guide to help people understand why we should be protecting these creatures instead of killing them."

"Goldstein!" A new voice made the American witch jump up from the desk and hide behind it. "Where is she? Where is she? Goldstein!" The Asian woman pointed towards where she had disappeared and the young man nodded in thanks as he addressed his question in her direction. "Goldstein! Did you just butt in on the Investigative Team again?"

Goldstein stood from her position and shot the brunette a thanks-a-lot look for outing her, but Lyra was still bitter about the unfair treatment. She chose not to reply to the man and so he continued to pester her. "Where've you been?"

"What?"

"Where'd she pick you two up?" he asked as he turned to the foreigners.

"Me?" Newt wondered, confused. He glanced in the Goldstein's direction but she only gave him a pleading look in return.

"Have you been tracking them Second Salemers again?"

"Of course not, sir."

Lyra turned at the sound of approaching footsteps to see a much older man with graying hair appear in the basement with them. The younger employee turned to him as well. "Afternoon, Mr. Graves sir!"

"Afternoon, Abernathy."

"Mr. Graves, sir, this is Mr. Scamander and Miss Yeoh. They have a crazy creature in that case and it got out and caused mayhem in a bank, sir." Goldstein stepped forward to address her superior, quick to throw the witch and wizard under the bus.

He seemed willing enough to believe her. "Let's see the little guy."

Newt tried to protest but Graves held up a hand to silence him as Goldstein seized their case. She brought it over to one of the desks and placed it down carefully. Lyra watched the proceedings worriedly, knowing that Newt would be devastated if the creatures were confiscated. She placed a reassuring hand on the sleeve of his blue coat as she sent a silent prayer to anyone who would listen that— maybe, with a stroke of luck— the case would be on the Muggle setting. (Even then, a wizard might be smart enough to look past the disguise.)

The American witch held her breath as she lifted the lid to reveal. . .

Pastries?

A bright smile appeared on Lyra's face. Sure, they didn't know where their animals were, but at least they wouldn't be taken by the government.

Graves sighed with disappointment. "Tina . . ."

"But sir. . ." 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Lyra let out a sigh of relief as they finally reentered New York's streets. Despite the unpleasant crowdedness of them, she was glad to be out of the dark and gloomy Wands Permit office. The woman who'd brought them in— whose name she now knew was Tina— continued to pester Newt about their interaction with the Muggle. While normally she'd help deflect immediate attention away from the shy man, the brunette was too happy to be back outside again to focus on Newt's plight.

Instead, she wondered where their case of magical creatures had disappeared to. She thought that the No-Maj had probably taken it by accident, thinking that it was his briefcase of pastries. (She made a mental note to compliment him on his baking skills— she'd given in and taken one when no one was looking. Besides, it wasn't her fault! She'd had nothing to eat all day and it was now late afternoon.)

As the saying goes, speak— or think— of the devil and he shall appear. A humming noise sounded above the bustle of the New York population, distinct enough to draw her attention upward. As they neared a gathered, upset crowd of Muggles, her eyes caught onto the shimmer of an iridescent blue bug that resembled a very fat dragonfly. Lyra froze at the sight of it and Newt and Tina continued onwards for a short distance.

The brunette tore her attention away from it and raced to catch up to the pair. Once she'd neared, she grabbed the sleeve of the man's coat and hissed his name, "Newt!" he seemed relieved to have an escape from Tina's pestering and he glanced towards her curiously. She pointed upwards surreptitiously.

As he followed her direction, a woman's voice called over the noise: "I ain't taking the kids back up there until it's safe."

The witch and wizard exchanged an apprehensive look before they promptly ditched their American acquaintance. Lyra followed Newt through the throng of people and up the steps of the unstable tenement. As they entered the room with the blown-through wall, the brunette cursed: "우린 망했어." [ Ulin manghaess-eo]

Newt glanced over at her. "I wouldn't have necessarily used that language but I agree." 

Korean Translation: 

우린 망했어 : we're fucked