...
Sitting in the cell waiting for MACUSA to decide what to do with them was no longer an option. If it had just been a simple matter of permits he might have stayed. Knowing what was out there Newt couldn't stay.
The cell was made out of stone and the bars out of iron. Thankfully iron and stone, not silver. Silver might have been a problem. There were wards on the door that prevented it from being opened from the inside. Wards however could not stop a connection to the earth or the Blessed Mother.
Many people considered the Scamander family Light. They were not Light except in the politics of the current generation. His family had been distinctively neutral with hints of dark in their cores. In past generations, they had been neutral in politics as well.
There were two main forms of magic in their world. High magic which was used by most witches and wizards. They required incantations and a focus to be used at full strength. Then there was Low Magic which consisted of connections. Wards, runes, and elemental all fell into low magic.
Once there were just as many who could use low magic as there were who could use high magic. A war long forgotten that he didn't know the specifics of had practically wiped it out.
Newt had been a rare exception to the normal of their world. He was born with a black and green band around his wrist. Runes were etched into the band that no amount of research helped him decipher. Even before he knew what it meant he was forced to wear a wristband over it. He was forbidden from telling anyone of its existence.
For the most part, he obeyed that but when he had been expelled from Hogwarts for bringing a dangerous creature in he could not lie to Theseus. Their parents had died the previous year and he could no longer hold the burden alone. Theseus had been surprised but supportive. He understood Newt better now about his struggles in school and why he disappeared so often. High magic did not come naturally to him. Using Low Magic to perform the same tasks was easier. Especially if he drew in from the ambient magic around them. Places like Hogwarts or the Ministries were like the endless seas. So much so that he struggled not to be overwhelmed.
Luckily for him when the Aurors put him in the cell they undid his bindings. He would need the full use of his hands. If he was lucky there was enough of connection to commune. The last thing he would want to do was pull on the ambient magic around them. He rarely used his magic like this but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Tina Goldstein an Auror who had taken a chance on him and was being punished for it noticed his look. She asked uncertain, "What? What is it?"
Newt bent to a knee brushing his fingers into the dirt. Almost immediately he could feel his magic reacting. As he expected the ambient magic around them was strong. Wards that kept track of who was where, antiapparition, antiportkey, and the likes. For being in the middle of the city there was a lot of low magic here.
Tina breathed in surprise, "Newt your eyes."
"Quiet," he ordered softly, "I need to focus."
And he did. Touching upon the wards to know who was where he frowned. Percival Graves's magic did not feel as it was supposed to. Comparing it to those around him he realized why. Potions likely a polyjuice. Which meant the real Graves was not dead but neither was he well. He'd have to find out who the imposter was.
There was no one around them and he easily twisted the wards so that they wouldn't set off an alarm when they left. Then he let his mind roam searching for his case. He found it close to the fake Graves. He reached out and touched minds and magics with his creatures.
Dougal wasn't in there and he was missing one of the occumy. That wasn't good. That wasn't good at all. Another check told him they were the only ones missing. Good all he had to do was find them and then he could leave New York.
After a moment's consideration, he communed with Nancy. Her strength and natural magic talent would come in handy. At first when their minds touched she was afraid. It was only the second time he had tried communing with her and not at such a distance. He hushed her gently and let her feel his presence. Within seconds she calmed and accepted him.
Strength chased away his exhaustion and her magic intertwined with his. It felt as if he had just woken up from the best night's sleep ever. If it came down to it his physical strength would be double his normal strength. Magically it was untested but he had his suspicions.
With the slightest hesitancy, he reached out to connect with Teddy his niffler. The little troublemaker was thankfully still in his case. At least he had not escaped for a third time since he arrived in New York.
Communing with Teddy did not add to his strength or magic. Instead, it was an anchor to keep him from overusing the ability. Teddy and Pickett had acted as anchors whenever he tried communing with his creatures. It was all too easy to lose himself either in his magic or in their minds. A lesson he learned the hard way in the one time he tried to commune with the obscurus.
Newt hesitated but decided against adding a third communion. As tired as he was it was too much of a risk that he would draw too much from them. Even now his body was trying to reject the communion. He was aware but only as an afterthought of the blood that ran from his nose.
Reluctantly Newt pulled his hand away from the earth and wiped the blood away. It only took half a second for the break between him and the Blessed Mother to stagger him. Tina had to grab his shoulder to keep him toppling over entirely. He could tell she was asking him about something but the static in his ears prevented him from hearing her.
By the time he was able to stand on his own feet again, magical signatures were coming for them. Four witches strong in magic carrying wands. Carrying their wands. He could break them out but it would be easier to get to his case from a different part of the building. A plan began to form in his mind's eye. It was risky but it just might work.