MACUSA.
Lynn hadn't expected to be back here again after being out barely half a day.
The lobby sat exactly the same, dome so high the top vanished from sight, chandeliers just as dazzling, floor polished to a mirror shine.
The wizard in the star-spangled robe still gave his speech on the wall, spittle flying, the crowd below still clapping and cheering in an endless loop.
At least this time he hadn't been dragged in on suspicion of anything.
When the Aurors had taken Newt, they hadn't even noticed Lynn was there.
He'd come to visit under the guise of being the suspect's student.
At registration, the witch at the front desk asked what his relationship to Mr. Scamander was. He thought a moment. "Student."
She looked him over, apparently deciding it wasn't strange for someone Newt's age to have a young student, and processed his visitor paperwork.
Inside a small meeting room.
Lynn and Newt sat across from each other, separated by a thick pane of magical glass.
Lynn had no idea what it was made of; looked ordinary enough, but probing it with magic got him rebuffed instantly.
An Auror stood beside Newt, hands clasped behind his back, expression flat, eyes fixed on him to make sure he didn't slip away.
The posture alone made Newt look like some kind of dangerous criminal.
Newt sat properly in his chair, hands on the table. Didn't look like a prisoner at all—more like a student waiting for graded papers.
Lynn glanced at the Auror, then back at Newt.
He cleared his throat.
"Teacher." Not loud, but perfectly clear in the small room.
Newt looked up.
"Just focus on reforming well in there," Lynn said, solemn. "You can leave our research project safely in my hands."
Newt blinked at the nonsense, thoroughly baffled.
What teacher? What reform? What research project? Why couldn't he follow a word of this?
He opened his mouth to ask, met Lynn's gaze, and shut it again.
Lynn glanced at the Auror once more.
The man's expression stayed flat, but his eyes flickered slightly. Clearly he'd caught the exchange and was wondering the same thing.
Socially anxious as he was, Newt wasn't stupid. He blinked, said nothing, and waited.
Seeing him still lost, Lynn continued, "Teacher, I'm just not sure which locations you meant for those Runespoor projects."
He leaned hard on the word "Runespoor."
Newt got it now; Lynn meant the escaped creatures.
He thought it over. "Oh, I'd planned to research New York, Philadelphia, Boston, Stamford, and Kingston."
Lynn's eyes went wide.
New York, Philadelphia, Boston, Stamford, Kingston—that was five entire cities, not five blocks.
At least a hundred kilometers from New York to Philadelphia, Boston further still, Stamford in Connecticut, Kingston up in northern New York.
Scattered across half the Northeast.
"Why so many places?" Lynn's voice climbed slightly without meaning to.
Newt spread his hands, equally at a loss.
He hadn't expected that while chasing a Thunderbird through the sky on his broom, his suitcase lid hadn't clicked shut properly.
The Thunderbird had flown fast and high, taking a long while to calm down. By the time he'd landed back on solid ground, he'd found a crack in the lid.
Those curious little ones had slipped out one by one during the chase.
The Runespoor moved slowly and was probably nearby still; the Occamy could grow and shrink, so it might've wedged itself into some building's crevice; the Nundu ran fast, could well be out of the city entirely; the Erumpent was found, sure, but there was still the Obscurial...
He opened his mouth to explain all this, then glanced at the Auror and swallowed the words instead. Just looked at Lynn, eyes pleading. Please.
At that look, Lynn took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"Fine."
New York's fine, Philadelphia's fine, Boston's fine. Nothing better to do this holiday anyway.
Newt sighed with relief, shoulders sagging like a weight had lifted.
He leaned back, then, remembering something, dug an object out of his pocket and set it on the table.
A second later, it teleported over to Lynn's side.
Only then did Lynn see clearly—a small compass.
Its needle didn't point north, though; it trembled faintly, as if tracking something.
"Take this," Newt said. "It'll help you find them. Each one's different—it'll point to the nearest one."
Lynn took the compass, pocketed it, stood, and headed for the door.
At the door, he glanced back at Newt, still seated.
"Teacher," he said, "reform well."
Newt smiled, shaking his head.
Lynn pushed through the door and left. Behind him, the Auror looked at Newt, then at the closed door, unable to resist finally asking, "Is that really your student?"
Newt glanced at him, thinking, at a time like this, how could he not be?
"Yes."
...
Stepping out of the Magical Congress, Lynn stood on the steps and pulled the compass out.
The needle still trembled faintly, like a restless little insect. He waited until it steadied fully, then checked—pointing north.
Lynn quickly ran through a mental map of the country.
That direction should be... Kingston.
North of New York, following the Hudson River, roughly a two-hour drive. Not close, for a Muggle. For him, though...
He pocketed the compass, his wand sliding out from his sleeve.
He stepped back to the edge of the steps, glanced both ways.
People passed by on the street; no one paid attention to the young man standing at the entrance to the Magical Congress.
He bent his knees slightly, then pushed off suddenly.
Bang—!
A sonic boom cracked across the steps, rattling a nearby trash can.
A few passersby glanced up, blinking, scanning around, spotting only a leaf caught in the wind and a plane slowly descending overhead.
Six minutes later.
Lynn walked out of a deserted alley.
He checked the compass—needle still north, but the tremble had grown noticeably wider.
Meaning a magical creature was genuinely nearby.
The compass, though, could only give a general direction, not a precise location.
Needle pointed north, so he walked north; a few steps later, still north; a few more, still north.
Walk too far, and the needle would shift angle, signaling he'd overshot, forcing him to backtrack.
And so he wandered the block like a headless fly.
Lynn sighed.
"Why did I even agree to this..."
Complaints aside, the job still needed doing.
Newt was still stuck at the Congress, and several creatures remained loose. Coming back empty-handed wasn't an option, not to Newt, and not to himself either.
So Lynn began combing the block systematically.
He checked every shop along the street, one by one.
Café, nothing. Bakery, nothing. Flower shop, nothing. Bookstore, nothing.
He turned into an alley stacked with trash cans, moss growing in the corners, air thick with the smell of fermentation.
The needle jumped—thankfully, not here.
Before long, Lynn stood at another intersection, needle still stubbornly pointing north. He looked up in that direction and spotted a shop.
Lace. Silk. Ribbons.
A lingerie shop.
His steps stopped. He glanced down at the compass, then up at the storefront; the window displayed several pieces of delicate lingerie—pink, black, lace-trimmed.
He took a breath, pocketed the compass, and pushed the door open.
The wind chime jingled.
A middle-aged woman peeked out from behind the counter, professional smile in place. "Welcome, can I help you find something?"
"Just browsing."
His gaze swept over the shelves, past the lace and silk, finally landing on a display rack in the corner. A row of scarves hung there, colorful and elegant.
Lynn walked over, pretending to study them.
His eyes drifted past the scarves into the gap behind the rack—there, a ball of silver curled in the corner, resembling a crumpled bit of silk.
Its body was curled fist-sized, gleaming all over as if plated in moonlight. Sensing eyes on it, it trembled and curled even tighter.
An Occamy.
A creature capable of growing or shrinking at will, squeezing into any gap when small.
Likely drawn into the shop by the soft fabric, now curled up asleep in the corner.
Lynn reached out slowly toward the silver ball.
Just as his fingertips nearly touched it—
"Sir?"
The woman's voice cut in from behind. His hand froze midair.
"Need any help?" Her tone carried a hint of confusion, probably wondering why a young man had been standing at the scarf rack this long.
"No." He withdrew his hand, turning with a forced, natural smile. "Just browsing."
She nodded, gaze flicking between Lynn and the rack.
Lynn waited for her to leave.
She didn't.
He waited a bit longer.
Still didn't.
No choice but to turn back and pretend to seriously examine the scarves' material.
Pure silk, smooth to the touch; synthetic fiber, a bit coarser. His fingers slid from one scarf to the next, peripheral vision locked on the silver ball in the corner.
The Occamy had apparently woken up.
It stretched, growing from fist-sized to palm-sized, then from palm-sized to arm-thick. It poked its head out, glanced around, then scrambled up the rack's post, moving fast as a silver bolt.
Lynn's hand moved faster.
He caught its tail.
The Occamy shrieked, its body expanding violently, growing from arm-thick to bucket-sized in an instant.
Its strength proved startling, tail thrashing wildly in his grip, nearly slipping free.
Lynn grabbed with his other hand too, both hands clamped tight around that slippery tail, dragging it down off the rack.
Still expanding, it twisted its head, small face twisted with rage, jaws opening to bite at his hand.
Lynn flicked his wand.
Its struggling slowed at once, body shrinking back down from bucket-sized to arm-thick.
He pulled a small cloth bag from his pocket—purpose-built for holding small magical creatures.
He opened it, stuffed the Occamy inside; it flopped a few times, then went still.
The whole thing took only a few seconds.
Turning around, Lynn found the woman still standing behind the counter, wearing an expression hard to describe.
The two of them stared at each other a moment.
"Are you..." she began, hesitant, "shopping for your girlfriend?"
"Something like that."
As he spoke, Lynn walked to a shelf and grabbed an item at random—he didn't even know what it was, just black, lace, and expensive-looking.
He handed it over, paid, took the bag, and turned to leave.
Seamless, the whole transaction.
The wind chime jingled again.
Lynn stood outside, taking a breath.
Then the woman's voice drifted out once more. "Such a handsome young man, what a shame he's gay."
Lynn: (▽д▽)
"Obliviate!"
---
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