The Witch That Time Forgot | Newtmione ✔️

Chapter 6 | Our Very Own Muggle

¡THIS IS NOT MY STORY! The story was make by nyxblack on fanfiction.net.

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"-must be stopped. It's terrorizing No-Majs and when No-Majs are afraid, they attack. This could mean war." Hermione strains her ears to hear the words the imposing, female speaker speaks as Tina drags her and Newt out of the lift and into the Major Investigation Department.

Looking around the room she takes stock of the situation. A group of clearly high-level Aurors appear to be having a very important meeting. A meeting that is being attended and lead by none other than President Seraphina Picquery herself. Upon hearing the three intruders approach the officials turn irritated gazes on Tina as she cautiously enters the now silent room, Newt and Hermione in tow.

"I made your position here quite clear, Miss Goldstein." Seraphina Picquery begins clearly angry, though contained.

What an excellent display of poise and control. Hermione can't help but think as she takes in the imposing woman before her. Despite her current style of dress it was hard to ignore her beauty. A strong and powerful beauty. A beauty to be respected and even a little fearful of. A beauty backed up by a strong sense of self, confidence and poise. A powerful and somewhat dangerous aura surrounding her.

Seraphina Picquery. An American born witch who attended Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A member of Horned Serpent House. If Hermione remembered correctly it was said that during her sorting she was offered a place in all four houses, becoming one of the few students to be so honoured. Her thoughts once again focused on her memories of the information surrounding this witch that had managed to survive time.

Though she chose to be placed in Horned Serpent, one of Ilvermorny's four houses. She later served as President of the Magical Congress of the United States of America between the years of 1920 and 1928. Hermione's eyes trailed lower to Madame Picquery's hand where her smooth, brown wood wand was held in a loose but sure grip. The beautiful, purple jewelled hilt winking at her.

She was said to be the owner of a controversial Violetta Beauvais wand, a kind of wand that was said to "take to dark magic like a vampire to blood." Her mind supplied.

A formidable and charismatic woman with a spine made of steel. Hermione thought her ears picking up on the tail end of the conversation currently taking place. The humiliated tone in Tina's voice apparent as the conversation came to an end making Hermione wince.

"Yes, ma'am." and with that a bemused looking Newt and a sympathetic Hermione were pushed back towards the lifts by a very humiliated Tina Goldstein.

Once again they descend, the doors of the lift opening to reveal a dusty, windowless basement room. An obvious contrast to the floor above.

Arm's finally free of Tina's grasp Newt and Hermione follow her as she leads them past a number of unmanned, magically operated typewriters. The clacking sound of the keys filling the room. Finished forms and reports organize themselves neatly in the drop boxes below. Some of the forms folding themselves into origami rats before scurrying up clear tubes that bend and weave towards to ceiling where they disappear. Their destination, the floors above, making their way into the hands of the higher-level ministry workers stationed there.

Gods I hate Rats. Hermione sneers, the memory of Peter Pettigrew making itself known as her eyes follow the paper rats on their journey up the tubes before disappearing into the floors above.

Tina leads the two towards a small corner of the room. A single rickety sign hangs above it reading: Wand Permit Office. Hermione's mind is brought back to the present as she watches Newt duck to avoid the sign. Once inside Tina stops at a desk, removing her coat and hat before busying herself with a messy stack of papers on her desk.