Graves went to interrogate Newt, and the case was left in the office.
Suddenly, the case began to move.
The unreliable latch popped open, and the lid flew up.
"He really should fix that latch."
"Roar—"
"Don't make petrify you again, Nundu."
"Whimper~~"
John stepped out of the case and stretched.
"Although it's quite interesting inside, the air outside seems better," John sniffed carefully. "I take that back. The air here isn't very good. There's an unpleasant sll."
With a hint of distaste, he walked to the door.
Crackle.
The mont his hand touched the handle, sparks burst out.
He paused, then snapped his fingers, cloaking himself with a Disillusionnt Charm.
Stepping back two paces, he kicked the door open.
…
In the corridor.
After rescuing Jacob from having a mory Charm cast on him, Queenie brought him along to find Newt's case.
After several failed attempts to unlock the door with Alohomora, Queenie said in frustration, "He must have used so advanced spell to seal it."
"Ahem."
Jacob shifted, walked up to the door, and glanced around to make sure no one was there.
Then he raised his foot and kicked the door open.
Nearly getting hit by it, John shrugged and said, "Sotis brute force works better than magic."
"Who's there?" Queenie suddenly said, alert.
Jacob frowned. "There's no one here."
But Queenie had definitely heard sothing, a voice just now.
There was no ti to think. They quickly grabbed the case and ran out.
They still had to rescue soone.
"Well, now how am I supposed to get back into the case?"
Because of Jacob kicking the door open, John hadn't had ti to return inside.
If Newt discovered that an eighty-foot dragon was missing, he would probably go mad.
And without a wand, John didn't dare cast spells recklessly.
If sothing went wrong like before, and a simple repair charm turned into a blasting curse, he might blow the place apart.
"Looks like I'll have to rely on my own abilities."
John sighed.
Fortunately, he himself possessed a variety of powers.
"I just hope I can get back before they open the case."
…
A piercing alarm rang out through the Magical Congress.
Perhaps every Hogwarts student had an innate talent for causing trouble.
Accused of carrying an Obscurus and attacking Muggles, Newt and Tina were sentenced to death.
Newt had the habit of carrying two magical creatures with him.
One was a Bowtruckle, which helped him unlock the chains. The other was a Swooping Evil, darting out like a yo-yo to save Tina just as she was about to be consud by the death potion.
The two of them clasped hands and hurried out of the execution chamber.
In the corridor, Aurors who had received the alarm rushed after them.
Newt released the Swooping Evil, knocking several of them down.
This kind of attack was extrely troubleso, but the Aurors were no pushovers.
Newt and Tina were pursued relentlessly.
One Auror, seeing that the two refused to surrender, raised his wand.
"Stupe—"
Thud.
The Auror lost consciousness and collapsed.
Then a second. A third.
Tina glanced back and asked Newt in alarm, "What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything," Newt replied, looking over as the last Auror's head tilted and he dropped straight to the ground.
As they turned the corner, they ran into Queenie and Jacob.
The four of them stared at each other, all extrely tense.
Three of them were fugitives. Looking at the case in her hands, Queenie ca up with an idea.
"Get in."
She opened the case, letting the three of them hide inside so she could take them out.
It was a very good plan.
Just as Jacob was about to step in, he felt sothing bump his shoulder.
"Hey, don't rush ," he said.
"We're not rushing you, Jacob," Newt replied innocently.
Jacob looked confused. "Not you?"
"All right, Jacob, hurry up and get in."
Urged on by Newt, Jacob stepped into the case.
...
Inside the case, in the small house.
As John landed, he knocked over a tal bucket. Without caring, he vaulted over it and dashed out the door.
As he ran, scales began to grow across his body.
By the ti Newt and the others entered, John was already leaning against a rock, looking as though he were asleep.
In the hall of the Magical Congress.
Queenie walked quickly, carrying the case, doing her best to appear natural.
…
"All right, I know I look a bit tired."
John leaned against the rock and said to the Thunderbird beside him, "But nothing happened, right?"
The Thunderbird flapped its wings.
John waved a hand, then turned to look at the three people inside the small house.
"Ah!"
Tina turned her head and was startled by those large reddish-brown eyes.
"Don't… don't be afraid," Newt reassured her. "That's the Shadow of Destruction, a very good dragon."
"The—Shadow of Destruction?"
Tina wanted to say that the na didn't sound very friendly.
"Hi, Shadow of Destruction," Jacob greeted John.
"You must have run quite a bit today," John said. "You've slimd down a little."
"Really?"
Jacob skeptically patted his round belly, clearly doubtful.
"It can talk?" Tina stamred.
"Yes, he can," Newt said as he led Tina over. "This is Miss Goldstein."
"Tina, Tina Goldstein."
As a forr Auror, Tina was braver than most wizards.
Seeing that John didn't attack her, she gradually relaxed and grew bolder.
"Hello, Tina Goldstein."
John extended his massive dragon claw and held it out in front of her. Summoning her courage, Tina carefully reached out and shook the sharp claw.
"Nice to et you."
Tina let out a breath of relief.
At that mont, the case was opened, and her sister Queenie's voice called out.
"It's safe."
The three of them were called out.
John shrank down, returning to human form, and rubbed his neck. "If I keep sleeping on rocks, my neck's going to break."
"Hopefully, Newt finds my wand soon."
He had no intention of being kept as a dragon for the rest of his life.
While it was amusing to bully the Nundu, it would get boring.
"Recreating the collision?" Taking out four Runespoor eggs from a small bag, John fell into thought.
The effect triggered by the previous forbidden collision had been successful.
But under his current conditions, recreating it would require sufficient magic power and soul strength.
Going back to Azkaban wasn't impossible, but it would take too much ti.
Taking out the black leather book, John said, "You can serve your final purpose now."
The soul was ready, and so was ti.
John glanced at the hourglass filled with Sands of Ti.
It was sothing he had obtained earlier in the pyramid.
What remained now was sufficient magical power.
"A powerful magical collision could work as well."
John stroked his chin, thinking about how he should proceed.
An idea surfaced in his mind.
"An Obscurus," John murmured.
…
On a New York street, in an alley beside the Second Salem Church.
A person was putting up posters for the next gathering.
Percival Graves, Director of Magical Security for MACUSA, Disapparated there.
He walked straight toward the person, his tone and deanor urgent.
"Credence, have you found that child?"
The one called Credence replied fearfully, "I can't."
Facing the timid Squib, Graves felt a trace of impatience, but he still put on a calm front.
His voice carried a false sense of concern and kindness as he said, "Show ."
Credence whimpered, trembling.
He was afraid, painful mories flooding his mind.
He nearly ran.
Graves took his hand and examined it carefully. Fresh red wounds marked it, left by his adoptive mother's beatings.
His adoptive mother was an extre anti-witch activist, tirelessly spreading the dangers of witches and inviting others to join their cause.
Credence was her adopted son, yet he had never received any love. She despised him and abused him.
Graves spoke in a gentle tone Credence had never heard before. "Shh, good boy."
His thumb brushed over those wounds, his voice carrying a seductive quality. "The sooner we find that child, the sooner you can leave all this pain where it belongs."
He was like poison, slowly corroding Credence's mind.
From his pocket, he took out a necklace bearing a symbol of a circle, a vertical line, and a triangle, and handed it to Credence. His low, hoarse voice tempted him. "I want you to wear this, Credence."
"I rarely place my trust in others." As he personally put the necklace around Credence's neck, he whispered aningfully, "Very rarely."
"But you… you're different."
As Credence hesitated, Graves placed his hands on his neck and drew him closer.
Little by little, Credence succumbed, pulled step by step into the beautiful illusion Graves had woven.
"When this is done, you'll be respected. Wizards will respect you," Graves said, his warmth breaking down Credence's defenses as he pulled him into an embrace, leaving him unable to pull away from that closeness.
"Respected forever."
The familiar symbol of the Deathly Hallows hung at Credence's neck.
Swaying.
Emitting an allure that drew one deeper in.
____
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