The Tribrid and Her Prison {Book One - Complete}

Sign The Registry

Unknown to Hope, while she and Newt went to New York, Albus had done some extra digging regarding her type of magic. He had traveled to different muggle locations and picked up a few books here and there, leading to a massive compilation that Hope's sorted through now. She did her best to translate, but much of the ancient Latin handwriting wasn't as legible as one might think.

By noon, Hope's eyes were burning. She'd started reading by firelight at around five that morning until the sun came up and hadn't stopped but for a few bites of toast and gulps of coffee.

Oh, coffee.

Hope reached over and picked up her mug, but as she took a sip, she looked at the bottom to see it was empty. She stood to refill it for the fifth time, but the mug suddenly was out of her hands and in Albus'.

"Sorry, Hope, but I think I will have to cut you off." He smiled crookedly and set the dish on a plate to be washed.

Rubbing her eyes, she sighed and looked at the carpet. To the left were books she'd yet to go through and translate into something that made sense, and to the right were the ones she'd finished. All four of them.

Hope wrinkled her nose. "Hm, who knew translating ancient Latin from witches with terrible penmanship would be such a challenge."

Chuckling, he wrapped his arms around her, and she let her cheek fall to his chest. Dipping deeply into his musky scent.

"You need a break," he kissed the top of her head, "would you like to go to London with me today?"

She looked up with sudden interest, brows raised and eyes alight. "Really?"

Albus nodded, laughing lightly. "I have a meeting at two o'clock. Newt mentioned going through London to get to Diagon Alley, but you never really saw anything."

Nodding, she gave his waist a squeeze and smiled. "I suppose it might look a little different now, given the crash."

With a frown, Albus stroked his fingers along the small of her back. "The Ministry is doing what they can to help with the situation, but there's only so much to be done that keeps our world secret."

Seeing so many struggles in one world while others thrived in another was a sad situation. Hope changed the subject before she could let the sadness get to her.

"Newt mentioned he has a brother who works for the Ministry?"

"He does," Albus nodded, "Theseus is an Auror, meaning he helps the Ministry catch Wizards who practice the Dark Arts."

Hope couldn't help but look over at the books on the floor. They held so much Dark Magic- voodoo and hoodoo were primary practices within the magic she seemed to inherit. From what she could understand, from others' perspectives, was that it could be considered not just dark but very dark.

"I think I was a Dark Witch," she said, looking over at him to see if he would counteract, but he said nothing as he watched her, "Newt just doesn't want to admit it because what then? Would I be sent to Azkaban for crimes I don't remember committing?"

Hope found her face between his hands, forced to look up at him.

"Perhaps you did." He murmured.

It wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear, but she couldn't look away from his penetrating gaze.

"And if you did," he continued, "it does not change the person you are here. Right now. The person that hand feeds Bowtruckles when they have a cough and helps students with homework questions that she has no idea how to answer," Hope snorted, but couldn't help but smile, "that person. That woman is the one that I love."