Standing on the staircase outside a bank, Newt Scamander found himself more alone than ever. The sound of people's feet trampling on the New York City pavement was almost deafening. Not until today had he truly appreciated how long he had been on his travels. Not even mandrake cries could compare to the sound of the voices, cars, and feet echoing in the muggy, New York air. It made Newt wish he could open his old suitcase now, and hide inside it.
The suitcase.
Ha, Newt thought to himself.
He had almost forgotten he was holding it! As he clenched the handle tighter, Newt noticed a young woman's hat fly straight off her head. A short, solid chap next to her noticed straight away, and began chasing after it as it moved with the wind, holding his own hat as he did. He managed to grab the hat before it flew under a car's tyre. He jogged back to the lady, who thanked him graciously.
Newt smiled to himself. All these people here today had absolutely no idea how close they all were to magic beyond their imaginations and creatures like they had never seen before. That with one click of the suitcase lock, every one of these unsuspecting muggle's lives would change forever.
Newt heard fast, heavy footsteps approaching. He quickly pulled myself aside, briefcase held tight against his chest, as a group of five men in well tailored suits rushed up the stairs. Newt was sure he had heard one of them say the word finance, but quite frankly, he didn't care much to listen to anything more.
It did however struck Newt at that moment that he was surrounded by muggles.
No wait! , Newt thought. No-maj's. That is what they are referred to here. Odd name.
What was odd though was that there seemed to be no one on this busy New York street, except for no majs! Back in England, magical folk can sort of tell when a witch or wizard is around. Either a scarf starts moving without a breeze to be felt, or a wand is seen sticking out of a coat pocket. Nothing that stands out too much, just little hints that magic is around.
Not here though. Everything was so painfully non-magical.
Newt had heard talk at the Ministry that things were far more secretive here in America. He really should have listened more for the details. Newt thought for a moment.
In fact, of all that time working at the Ministry of Magic, he probably should have had more conversations…with others.
Newt recalled having more interesting conversations with merpeople that he did with any witch or wizard back home, and merpeople weren't all that talkative!
At that moment, Newt was shoved to the ground. His suitcase flew right out of his arms, and landed a few steps below him, along with another suitcase. On the floor, Newt noticed the solid man who had helped the woman with her hat. He had landed face-first on the pavement next to him. The man quickly picked himself up from the floor, dusted off his suit and held a hand out to Newt.
"I am so very sorry, young man! Are you alright?"
Newt took the man's hand, and he swiftly pulled Newt to his feet.
"Oh quite alright. I should not have been just standing there," Newt said.
"No. It was completely my fault," the man began. "You see. I'm in a bit of a hurry. I –"
Newt wasn't paying attention. His only concern at this point was the suitcase. He jumped down to where his suitcase lay. Newt grabbed it and sprinted down the stairs again. He needed to find a hidden area, to make sure everyone in the case was safe.
The man on the stairs looked bewildered as he watched Newt run down the stairs. What an odd man, he thought. The man went down to pick up his briefcase, and checked his watch.
"Damn it!" he said out loud. He was already late! It was a good thing the strange ginger-haired man wasn't up for conversation. After all this was an important day for Jacob Kowalski.