"Do you think I'm this stupid?" asked the tall ginger on-duty, slamming the sketch of Graves against the reception desk. His gleaming name tag – Junior Auror Andrews – looked as new as the auror it was attached to looked mad.
"And before you open that cock-sucking mouth of yours to continue stuttering, Mr. Civilian-for-sure, I'll answer the question on your behalf: no, I am not this stupid. I'm not buying this. If you want to prank me, try to make it more believable. This kind of a sorry-excuse-of-a-prank is an insult to my intelligence. I graduated at the top of my class, just so you know! You're making me unreasonably livid by offending my intelligence with a pathetic prank like this."
Newt didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. He wasn't sure if he could have said something had he tried to because there was now a lump in his throat and the lump was making it difficult to swallow. Something about Junior Auror Andrews and his demanding presence had made him stutter from the start which had made the situation all the worse, and now Newt felt so uncomfortable he just stood there, frozen, unable to speak, while Junior Auror Andrews kept on sneering at him from the other side of the reception desk.
"You can drop the doe-eyed civilian act already by the way," Andrews said, scoffing. "I already told you I'm not buying any of it. Are you a member of Team Gamma? Or Team Zeta? Surely not Team Alpha? Those guys are beyond serious, almost like the director himself. Sticks up their asses."
Frustrated, Newt kept on wringing the cuff of his sleeve with the fingers that weren't wrapped around the handle of his suitcase, but try as he wanted to, he just couldn't talk to Andrews. He had never been good with those kind of people who seemed to suck all air out of the room with their loud manner and demanding presence, those similar to Andrews. If it now hadn't been for the heavy money purse in his pocket, he would have left the auror headquarters.
If Newt hadn't been determined to return the money, he would have now bolted and never looked back, but as it happened, he felt it important enough to see the money returned he was prepared to withstand some scorn and discomfort.
It had been five days since he had met Graves in the Central Park and in those five days he hadn't manage to find the wizard again. It seemed likely Grave's guardian had called him home, having placed summoning charms on their protégé for safety reasons, and Newt had – after none of his trusted Tracker's Spells worked – eventually had to resign himself to the fact that he wasn't going to be able to locate the wizard by himself. That was why he was now standing in the lobby of the Magical Law Enforcement five days later, prepared to hand the dragots over to the authorities.
If only Andrews would stop insisting it was a poor attempt at a prank – not that it was the first time authorities didn't take Newt seriously. In fact, it was such a common thing he now felt resigned more so than surprised or outraged, and he didn't even bother to dwell into Andrew's motives more closely.
More often than not, authorities made his life more difficult simply because they didn't like his face. And some simply didn't need a reason.
Initially, though, all had been going relatively well despite of Newt's stutter. Andrews had listened attentively when Newt had told him of the slow-minded wizard whom he had encountered five days earlier, and Andrews had even been taking notes and asking relevant questions. It hadn't been until Newt had presented him with the rough sketch he had made of Graves that things had changed. As soon as Andrews had seen the sketch, he had begun to call Newt names and to say things about Newt "being an auror trying to make him look stupid for the amusement of others".
"Pathetic." Andrews was shaking his head once more, pityingly, and Newt dropped his gaze with his ears burning – people in the lobby were starting to pay attention, he could feel their eyes on his back. "Seriously. I knew there might be some kind of a welcoming prank, but even if I've only had my badge for two weeks, it doesn't mean I'd be this dense and green. You have to try harder than this."
"I'm n-not t-trying to p-prank you," Newt managed by keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the counter rather than anywhere on Andrew's person.
Clumsily, almost dropping it, he put the money purse onto the reception desk between them. The coins let out clinking sounds as they rubbed against each other.
"I just want to r-return these to their r-rightful owner."
"Sure, of course," Andrews sounded mocking, "and you can fuck off right along with them, whoever you are. Who do you think I am? A little whore, like you? I bet it's all leprechaun gold anyway. As I said, I'm not this stupid. Who put you up to this?"
"Is there a problem here?"
A large bulk of a man materialized next to Newt. "Senior Auror Berry," read on the worn name tag attached to the man's chest and someone had written above "Berry" with red ink, "STRAW." A quick glance revealed a jovial face, green hair and a red coat covering wide shoulders and a narrow waist. Senior Auror Berry did indeed somewhat resemble a strawberry.
"No, Sir," Andrews cleared his throat. "No problem at all. Although this man is preventing me from focusing on my work."
"Indeed?"
Andrews was quick to let Berry in on the situation, claiming Newt was there to prank him and that he hadn't fallen for the prank. After Andrews was finished and fell quiet, Newt did his best to stutter out his own version of the events, while Berry regarded the sketch of Graves critically.
"It's a good sketch," Berry eventually said long after Newt had fallen silent. "Are you one of our new sketch artists?"
Newt shook his head.
"You're quite talented," mused Berry, eyeing the sketch. "The likeness is unmistakable, although you might have made him a bit more handsome than he actually is. Nonetheless, I'd have recognized Graves from miles away."
Newt's head shot up and he stared at the green hair, hopeful.
"You know Graves?"
"Of course." Berry waved a hand dismissively like the question meant little to him. "I'd recognize this ugly face anywhere. We're distant cousins, after all. Hey, Otterfield, Frank, Jacobson, you might be interested in this missing person case. Come here, will you."
The last part was spoken over Newt's shoulder and soon there were three more aurors crowding the space that should have been Newt's and his alone. While Newt fidgeted, anxious due to their proximity, Berry filled the three aurors in on the situation. Thankfully he didn't say anything about pranks and rather seemed to believe what Newt had been telling Andrews all along, and the three other aurors listened intently, the sketch of Graves going from hand to hand.
"It's a good sketch," said a bald wizard gruffly right in front of Newt, an unlit cigarette tucked behind his ear. "You one of our new sketch artists?"
Newt couldn't answer. It took all he had to simply endure the crowd pushing against him, looking at him, staring. His own gaze went from one person to the other, rapidly, and he barely saw any details rather than a swarming mass of people who all wanted near him. He wished they would leave, he wanted them to go away, to leave him in peace. He tightened his hold around the suitcase. He didn't know when he had begun to hug it to his chest.
"Please g-go away," he managed after several tries, but perhaps his voice was too soft to be heard clearly because the now frowning wizard in front of him said, after having leant in closer as if to hear better,
"No way? Well, our loss, I suppose."
"So you're positive – absolutely positive," said a bulky witch, wearing all green, from Berry's left, "that this wizard who called himself Graves is a simpleton?"
Newt gave a confirming nod, not daring to open his mouth since he didn't want to risk accidentally squeaking like sometimes had happened in similar situations.
It had been a mistake to approach the aurors with this, Newt now suspected. Perhaps it had been a mistake to seek them out, to come to the Woolworth building to bring his troubles to the MACUSA. He had earnestly believed the aurors would help, but he hadn't anticipated getting crowded by them. With all the aurors now invading his personal space and demanding his attention, he was no longer that confident with the wisdom of his plan. Or rather, Newt still did believe the aurors had the better chance of locating Graves than he did, but it now appeared he needed to sacrifice his personal comfort in order for them to help.
Still, Newt was prepared to do just, if it meant Graves would get his money back.
"I think," said Berry in his friendly manner just then, "that I might know where to find the guardian of this simpleton, Graves."
A/N: Let me know if you liked it. Otherwise I'll never know. Your comments are the reason for me to keep on writing.
