The Tribrid and Her Prison {COMPLETE}

The Grimoire in Diagon Alley

They took the train from Hogsmeade to London early the following day. Hope wore one of her new articles of clothing, another pair of slacks and blouse, but tied her hair back in a slick ponytail that bounced with the train's movement.

Hope was so engrossed with the passing scenery that she didn't notice Newt staring at her until she glanced over.

"What?" she asked with a crooked smile.

"You just...you look beautiful." He murmured.

A pink blush ghosted her cheeks, and she moved closer, leaning against him, but just as she was getting comfortable, something tickled her cheek.

She pulled away with a bewildered blink of her eyes. "What is..." she looked at the little green creature poking a tiny head out at her, seeming shy.

"Oh, this is Pick. He's a Bowtruckle. He likes to go on adventures," Newt chuckled, pulling him out of his pocket, "But mind you, he can have quite the attitude sometimes."

Pick stuck his tongue out at Newt then and crossed his arms.

Hope grinned and extended a finger to him. "He's wonderful."

Reaching out his leafy arms, he took hold of her finger and crawled into the palm of her hand before climbing up to rest in the crook of his neck.

"I think he likes you," he grinned, "Wait. You don't like her more than me, do you?"

Pick gave a salty nod and snuggled against some loose strands of Hope's hair, making her giggle.

"You're just cross. You didn't get any extra woodlice like the others. It wouldn't be fair for you to come with me and have extra treats." Newt sighed, and he seemed to ignore him entirely now. "Fine, have it your way."

Hope pressed against Newt's side the rest of the ride while Pick slept against her neck. She read the Daily Prophet that he held, skimming passages of interest.

When they did arrive, she was relieved. She was starting to feel too antsy to continue sitting for much longer. Today, she'd find out if she had magic or not—sort of. Albus seemed to think she did have it, but she wasn't so sure. She didn't feel magical, not in the way he meant.

As she stood, Pick jumped from her shoulder to Newt's and crawled into his pocket for what she assumed was a longer nap.

"Where to first?" She asked as she followed Newt off the train, taking his hand as he helped her down the steps.

"Well, I certainly need to stop in the Magical Menagerie. Ollivanders is on our list for you, but we can stop anywhere. There's Flourish and Blotts, which is a bookstore. And Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor has a multitude of flavors."

Hope grinned, "That all sounds amazing." She continued looking all around her as they walked the streets of London. Remembering that the people bustling by were called Muggles. It was so strange that one population had no idea of the other and lived under their noses.

They entered the Leaky Cauldron, where Newt wanted to show her how to get to Diagon Alley through the brick wall in the back.

"There are a few different ways to travel, and doorways like this are one of them." He said, walking through the opening with her.

"What are other ways?" She asked curiously as she watched the brick patch itself back together automatically.

With a shrug and a smile. "Some fly. Others use Floo Powder. A powder you toss into a fireplace and step through, you say the name's location and picture it. If you do it correctly, you'll arrive relatively where you'd like to be."