Tina faces challenges at work and wonders if she would ever see her sister again. A certain No-Maj tries to get over his heartbreak by entering a new relationship and fails miserably.

New York New York

"Goldstein! Get over here now!"

For one moment, Tina thought it was Director Graves calling her from the tone. She looked up from her desk. No, it was Ulysses Bullhorn The new Director was a tough-talking wizard from Texas who believed that little witches had no place in an Auror office aside from brewing coffee and typing letters. Things had been tolerable under Director Stewart Franklin, even though she was barred from participating in many of the missions due to lingering concerns about her loyalties. Then came Ruby Twoshoes who had offered her the chance of a transfer over to Kansas, which Tina declined. Poor Ruby had a run-in with a Hidebehind on a trip to her aunt's. That was when Director Bullhorn barged into the MACUSA office in New York. Many of her fellow witches requested transfers to the branch offices where they would at least do something other than brew coffee or type letters.

"Go fetch us some of those sugar-buns from that No-Maj place I have been hearing about, Missy…"

Her mostly male colleagues were already filing into the meeting room. Tina forced a smile as she summoned her raincoat over. Summer was ending and fall blowing in with showers a-plenty. She had a most enjoyable weekend with Newt when he came over for a book signing session – Fantastic Beasts II. His publishers were pushing him to do a geographical focus on the Americas or Asia, or a complete guide to dragons. Tina was glad he was doing so well in his career – hers had ground almost to a standstill. The DLME's secretary Old Miss Weiss had finally hung up her broom. Advertisements for a replacement had come to nought. Bullhorn seemed set to have Tina fill in the role until they could hire one. Perhaps if she misbrewed his coffee often enough…

The whispers about her loyalties and her sister had died down over the months. It still did not make things easier. Her alleged consorting with the Graves clan had also come under scrutiny after a particularly raucous picnic on the docks involving a dozen members of the clan holding a memorial service for one of theirs. Pelly explained that one of his many brothers had passed in Europe and the crew were unable to hold a proper funeral. Tina had not meant to be there, but she wanted news from the clan. Too bad most of them were two sheets to the wind or out cold when she arrived. Pelly might have blabbered more if Jenny had not magically sealed his mouth. Whatever happened in Europe was not to be shared with MACUSA.

Bullhorn was a windbag and was unlikely to last long with his big mouth making enemies. Percival Graves might have had humble beginnings, but he was not a country simpleton for being caught out by Grindelwald. Better Aurors had been fooled and they all knew it. Stewart Franklin was already pushing 150 when they hauled him out of training Aurors in Colorado to fill in as Director. He did a stellar job of getting everything shipshape by the spring of 1928. His grandchildren and great-grandchildren filled key positions within MACUSA. Ruby Twoshoes was a tough little witch from Kansas with a big heart. They had her honoured on the Memorial Wall for saving a dozen children from a Hidebehind, and they said she had been caught wandless too. Whispers had it that President Duckworth was dithering about who to replace Bullhorn after he almost caused a diplomatic incident with the Brazilians.

Tina stopped in front of the bakery. Jacob was at the counter. With a shrug she cast a glamour spell over herself, giving her the appearance of a dowdy housewife. She selected a dozen strudels and cinnamon rolls. She joined the queue just as the store phone rang and Jacob went to answer it. His assistant took over the register.

"Aunt Miriam, yes, we have gone out… No, I don't think… well, she's a nice gal and all, but…" Jacob winced as his aunt unleashed a stream of admonishments in Polish about how he should settle down at his age and start producing little Kowalskis. "Yes, I can come for lunch on Sabbath…"

Tina glanced over to the flustered baker as his assistant packed her purchases. The man looked a little rough. There was a smear of flour on his forehead and his moustaches needed a trim.

Well, she needed to hurry back to the office. And she did not wish to step into the No-Maj's life again after what happened with Queenie. Perhaps it would be for the best if they all could move on.

"Jacob! I introduce nice Polish girls to you, Jewish girls, make good wives and mothers… why you not interested?"

Jacob winced as he tried to sink down in his chair. Aunt Miriam was a good Jewish woman who single-handedly raised her brood of seven after her husband was killed in an accident. Now that she had gotten all seven of her children happily married off, she had turned her attention to matchmaking her distant nephew. Even Jacob was not too clear on whether their mothers were first cousins twice removed or second cousins by marriage back in the Old Country. Aunt Miriam made great matzo and chicken soup. Her challahs were flawless. Her eldest son was a rabbi. Jacob was not particularly religious and often failed observe the Sabbath. He only started having weekly Sabbath lunches at Aunt Miriam's after she broke her leg while her son and daughter-in-law were off in San Francisco visiting relatives. Someone needed to help the old woman while Joseph and Sarah were away.

"Mildred was nice… We met while worked at the shirt factory…" Sarah murmured as she ladled out the soup. She was hugely pregnant and kept house for her husband.

"She left me and got engaged to Dickens, the cannery foreman," Jacob murmured.

"What about Ada? Good with a needle, bakes decent challah too… You went out with her a few times…" his aunt sipped her tea. "Do you have someone already?"

Ada Feldman was blond, vivacious, and had blue eyes a man could drown in. Problem was she was not Queenie for all her resemblance to the witch. After meeting for tea, dinner and two trips to the cinema, they had to admit it was not working out. He had tried going out with Angelina, the Italian tobacco store girl from down the street. She was the opposite of Queenie – a dark little brunette. Didn't work out. After Polly and Susan, Jacob had to admit the problem was him. He could not forget Queenie.

"Boy, do you have some girl in mind already?" Aunt Miriam insisted.

"Y-yes, Aunt…"

"Then go ask her out already… Wait, not that blonde you were living with…" His aunt made a sound of disapproval.

"She's gone left me like Mildred did…" Jacob lied. Better than saying Queenie ran off to join some dark wizard after listening to his rally.

"Better off without her, I say," Joseph cut in. "Sarah has a cousin, widowed, no children but still young… Maybe she can help you at the bakery…"

"No thanks…" Jacob decided he had quite enough of being matchmade by well-intended family.

Tina arrived home to find an owl perched on her windowsill. The bird was patiently waiting her return. It had been a long day at work with the typewriter charms failing and multiple calls to the Auror Office. She had been allowed to join a team because they were one short. It was a simple case of Crup theft. Nothing too thrilling. Still reports had to be typed.

The owl hooted as it pecked at the owl treats Tina gave the bird for its trouble. She even offered it a rind of cheese to the bird's delight. The letter was postmarked from Malaya. Tina hoped this meant Newt was getting closer to obtaining permission to enter the Chinese interior for the next book in his series.

Part of her was irked by how Newt thought the world of his mentor Albus Dumbledore. She did not like how he kept his cards close, even as he dispatched Newt off halfway across the globe. She did not see why it mattered so much for Newt to go into the Chinese interior. He could base his next book on the magical beasts of Antipodes or other parts of Asia. Why China? The Chinese ministry of magic were notoriously secretive and shut-off from other magical communities. It was wonder they even had a representative running for Supreme Mugwump this round. That said, many other wix were territorial – guarding their magical traditions and secrets from outsiders. It seemed that it was the European wix who insisted on imposing their traditions on others. The use of wands and Latin-based incantations…

She really ought to write to Newt. Perhaps tomorrow… Tina stifled a yawn. Having had his fill, the post owl had taken off into the night.

Silverfoot dipped her paddle in the river. The bark canoe skimmed across the rapids like salmon. It had taken a while for Headmistress Delance to agree to the outing with the new school term almost on them. It was Ilvermorny business – seeking out students who had not replied. There were always a few stragglers who slipped through the net – children whose people were nomadi or prefer homeschoolingc. Lally Hicks sat in the bow. On her lap was their precious cargo – a branch of Ilvermorny's ancient snakewood tree. The tree had resisted all attempts to trim it, until now. Lally did not what had changed. Albus had been insistent on her loaning him the legendary wand of Ilvermorny for the Greater Good. Except there was any wand. The snakewood wand of Martha Steward was a legend. There might have once been a wand, but it was since lost to time.

"Only for a worthy cause or when Ilvermorny is in need of aid will the Tree yield." So the legend went.

Folklore held that Martha's twin sister had spoken to snakewood bush, asking it to grant her sister magic. The bush had given the girl a branch for a wand-wood, but without a core. Martha remained a squib and though her twin tried, no creature or plant would yield a magical core for the snakewood wand.

There was a legend that during the end of the 19th century, a student had asked a wand of the ancient tree for a magical but mentally deficient sibling. The tree's leaves were used in healing potions and often harvested for the infirmary. Students would have been roped in to assist with the harvest as part of their Magical Healing lessons.

Lally did not know why Dumbledore had been so insistent about the wand, or how a false wand without a core would factor in the war against Grindelwald. Still, she had gone out to the tree, not expecting it to work, but the snakewood tree had responded by dropping the branch at her feet. The snakewood tree oozed magic, so long as it was rooted. Holding the snakewood branch in her hand, the magical aura had faded. A wand that is no wand. Dumbledore had mentioned.

Silverfoot had been there when the branch dropped. She had long harvested leaves for the potions needed to cure her magical injuries from some long-ago duel. Lally had to tell her about Dumbledore's request. Silverfoot was not exactly pleased. However, she did point out that that crude branch was nothing like a wand. It had to be worked on or they might as well pick up any old branch from the forest. She did know a wandmaker who would fashion it, no questions asked.

"To Guinevere Graves'!" Silverfoot commanded and the canoe shot up into the starry skies. Lally scrunched her eyes shut against the biting night wind and pulled her cloak close. What went down in Paris in the summer of 1927 was only a starter. Dumbledore claimed he was working to stop Grindelwald. His plans were so convoluted, it made her head hurt trying to work them out. Silverfoot was right. Wand-making could not be rushed, especially such a unique case – a coreless wand.

Silverfoot laughed into the night. Freedom. It was almost within her reach. The geas still held, but she would take what she could. Jenny would not be averse to altering her wand. She was done serving the headmistress. Lally did not hear the laughter, but it drifted down over the lonely lumberjack camps and miners' cabins. Some would nudge each other and huddle closer to the fire. The witches fly tonight, they whispered superstitiously and prayed.

Under the cover of darkness below, a graverobber cast a Disillusionment Spell over himself. He had slowly been chipping away at the wards. Severina wanted the bones within the grave. The bones of a necromancer. He shivered and checked his counter-wards. He had come so far. A slip could cause the hard work of the past months to unravel, or end in his death.

They found Jenny's wagon train on the prairie. The witch had been up before dawn preparing breakfast for the dozen or so students who attended her Charms School. She nodded grimly at the newcomers and motioned for them to join the table. Silverfoot handed her a list of students. Jenny called out and two of the older children trotted over. Hattie Tubman and Charlie Wong. They would return with Silverfoot at dusk to Mount Greylock. The third child had returned to his family to be homeschooled in the family's wandmaking trade. Perhaps Silverfoot might drop by at Blackhat to convince them otherwise? The boy had no aptitude for wandlore at all.

"I need a wand to be fashioned from this," Lally explained as she handed the branch to Jenny. Silverfoot briefed the new students on Ilvermorny's school curriculum and checked if they had family they might wish to notify of their acceptance.

"You bring no core… who is the wand for?" the wandmaker studied the wood, admiring the faint aura of magic clinging to it.

"It is request by a friend."

"Strange friend to request one of Ilvermorny's treasures," Jenny smiled as waved over a plate of grits and a mug of strong coffee. "When will you need it?"

"Before the Mugwump election."

"It will be ready by then," Jenny promised. "This is not the first time we have had to make a wand to get a No-Maj or squib to pass as a full wix."

Trim off the extra branches. Polish the wood to a sheen…

Author's Notes:

Dumbledore has been busy behind the scenes getting his pawns in place.