1924, England, Ministry of Magic

"There are so many Animagus living here," Camille murmured, fingers flipping through a large stack of papers.

"And many more who are unregistered," Mr. Fennet replied.

Camille raised her eyebrows, and gazed up at Mr. Fennet apprehensively before sighing and standing to her feet. The papers stacked below her were numerous and piling all over her new desk. She wasn't exactly planning on staying in London for long, but her father had other plans.

"About time your father came back home," Mr. Fennet continued brightly, smiling at the young witch who was staring back at him politely," We went to Hogwarts together back in the day, both proud Ravenclaws. Pity you went to Ivermony."

"Pity you both didn't," Camille retorted, cool grey eyes crinkled at him.

An awkward pause began then immediately broke when Mr. Fennet gaffawed loudly, his large stomach shaking with laughter. He patted her on the back, hard, making her loose balance and fall forward slightly.

"Bloody hell, did I miss you Greywoods! Missed your father more than words can say, mind you. Now, off you go. Can't have a young witch wandering around alone at night. I'm sure your father is waiting in the lobby for you." Mr. Fennet lead her out the door and to the elevator.

Camille gave her new employer a soft smile and wave before stepping into the elevator that shot to the left a few meters, then down. After a few moments, the elevator chimed, alerting her to its final stop. She stepped out, the clink of her heel echoing against the tile of the Ministry of Magic lobby floor.

She preferred the MACUSA's (the Magical Congress of the United States of America) lobby to this one. This seemed dark and hectic and she longed for the familiar brightness and organization back home in her New York office.

Her eyes searched the emptying lobby – it was close to six o'clock so many witches and wizards were heading home to their families. There were no tall, domineering men in sight. She sighed, moving forward to sit beside a fountain with a very peculiar set of statues while waiting for the appearance of her father.

She caught sight of a newspaper, The Daily Prophet, sitting beside her and she picked it up glancing over the cover. A pale, fair haired wizard was calmly staring back up at her with a faint smirk on his lips. It looked as if he had a particularly nasty thought cross through his mind that he thought was quite funny.

Grindenwald, she thought with disdain, immediately tossing aside the paper.

"I see you're enjoying the local news," a gruff voice spoke, causing her to look up quickly in alarm.

"Father," she replied, getting to her feet and threading her arm through his as they began to tread towards the exit, "How long are we planning on being here?"

"Until we find the rest of his followers that are lingering here. You obviously saw that Animagus are rather common in Great Britan in comparison to America. We need to ensure that there is no one trying to smuggle any followers across country lines in the guise of being a creature, magical or otherwise," Jerome Greywood replied.

Camille nodded, feeling a slight chill once they exited the building. Her father tilted his head in inclination and she returned the movement, bracing herself for a moment.

With a large crack, the father and daughter were no longer standing in the dimly lit London street.

"Good night, Camille," her father called from upstairs.

"Good night, father!" she said before turning back to reaching towards the small potted tree in front of her.

"Hello, Gwen," she whispered as a small green figure crawled off the fig tree and onto her extended hand," How are you holding up?"

The small Bowtruckle nipped her thumb lightly, making her flinch and roll her eyes.

"Alright, alright you greedy little thing."

And with that statement she reached into her pocket, and placed a small fairy egg next to Gwen in her opposite hand. It greedily consumed the small glittering egg then finally relaxed and gazed back up at her expectantly. Emotions and images quickly flooded Camille's mind.

Sunlight by a small pond. Familiar green faces. Warmth and comfort on the branch of a young maple tree. Happiness and content. Then with sudden contrast, longing and worry. Camille's own concerned face. A small tree in a cramped and rather damp room.

"Me too, Gwen," Camille sighed, taking a seat beside the small tree," But the Brits don't have many Legilimens here, and they definitely need the help. I'll try and get us home as soon as I can."

The small Bowtruckle seemed to wilt at her words before scampering off her hand and leaping back onto the small plant. Camille frowned and rose from her seat and headed towards her room. She wished that she could take herself and her small friend back overseas. She missed America – from its roaring New York City to its "confined as she did now in London.

Camille walked into her room and sat on her bed, grasping the picture frame hesitantly that was on her bedside table. She smiled lightly at the pair: herself and a handsome boy. They were adorned in Thunderbird's house colors, cream and gold, as they posed and laughed in the photo. This was six years ago, when she was a recent seventeen year old Ilvermony graduate with her closest friends of the house.

She lifted the covers and slipped her body under, grasping the bed sheets around her. She reached for her wand and with a swift motion of her hand, the lamp in the far corner of the room had dimmed. Camille rolled onto her back, looking up at the dark ceiling. Worry and nervousness began to claw at her stomach and she grimaced. Tomorrow was when her work truly began, reading and testing for any possible No-Maj hating followers of Grindenwald. The dark wizard was still at large, escaping the clutches of the magical governments all over Europe as were many of his followers.

Rolling over in her bed, Camille's mind drifted back to the boy in the photo who was laughing and hugging her, unaware of what dark future would come next for him. She steeled her nervousness and closed her eyes resolutely, willing herself to sleep. She'd be damned if she missed a follower because of being tired.

Hey there!

So, this was my first chapter of my first fanfic. I welcome any and all criticism. This will end up being an OCxNS fic, I can't help it! NS is an adorable character. If anyone likes editing or anything of that sort, please reach out because I would love some help!

Hope you enjoyed and until next time,

EQ.