Tides of Turmoil (NEWTINA)

Chapter 11 - The Interrogation

Jacob was the first to talk.
'Queenie,' he said, looking at her tenderly with a small smile, 'why would Tina work for someone like that wizard? You must've talked together about something that might've triggered something, or she could've mention something about work or life.'

Queenie shook her head, sadness portrayed on her face. 'Teenie is not someone who chats about herself all the time. I used to look into her thoughts as she arrived home, but they were all the same: paperwork, an arrest, a letter from Newt, about Newt, or what she ate for lunch.'

I felt my cheeks fire up as I blushed and looked down as I felt eyes on me. After clearing my throat, I looked up and asked Queenie. 'Anything you remember about the day before she started to close herself up?'

Queenie looked at me, something in her eyes that made me dread for the answer. She stumbled a bit before she could answer. 'in the morning, it all was normal. I made us breakfast and we went to work. We passed next to Jacob's bakery, and we regretted that he was away. We were happy for him nonetheless, and Teenie suggested that we should go again as soon as he arrived. At work, she went off to her office and I went down to Wand Permit office. I drifted from her mind after a while, sensing she was mostly sorting out some paperwork. I went home first. I was making dinner when she arrived. The poor thing looked so tired, and I... I...'

She let out an audible gasp that gathered our attention, but Madam Picquery raised from her chair. 'Hard work is an Auror's work, and if Goldstein couldn't bear it, it's not the Congress's fault. if the reason she joined Grindelwald was that of some extra working hours – '

'We still don't know that,' we three interrupted.

'We still cannot let her, nor other fanatics, run free,' went on Madam Picquery, taking no notice. 

Just then, the armchairs we had behind us – Queenie had stood up at one moment – turned to life. The arms got long and wrapped around each of our stomachs and made us sit on them, this time prisoners. I tried my best to move out of their grip, but it was too strong, and the more I struggled the more it tightened.

'What is this?' coughed out Jacob.

'These armchairs were made with parts of Devil's Snare. Luckily, they're tamed to act when instructed. The more you struggle, the more they will tighten. However, it could eventually suffocate and kill you if you don't give me what I want.'

At the mention of that name, I stopped moving. Jacob and Queenie stopped as well, all of us breathing hard and fast.

'This is torture,' breathed Jacob. Indeed...

'Believe me, Mr No-Maj, this is the most humane torture device in the wizarding world.' Queenie just glared at her for a second before she calmed down. 

Pleased by our silence, Madam Picquery levitated her chair and brought it next to her. She sat down and looked at us sternly; however, it didn't seem right. 'I will ask again. Why have you come here?'

I looked down, gathering my thoughts. 'We cannot say,' I opted on saying, which was rewarded by an even sterner look from the President and another tight grip from the armchair.

'Mr Scamander, I'm sure you are aware of your own arrest warrant in England. Yes, we received an owl from Minister Fawley mentioning a certain Magizoologist had escaped and thus had neglected a duty that could be of use to England. I only want to know: is that true?'

I bit my lip, cursing myself for forgetting about the "duty" given to me by Fawley. There was no way I was going to allow the use of my creatures for magical defences against dark wizards. But they were not going to allow my refusal, so what other choice did I have? No one knows about my creatures hidden in the basement, and, based on the New York incident, I guess some know what is hidden in my case.

'They were going to use my creatures as a defence mechanism,' I confided, letting the dread and anguish from the thoughts of my creatures harmed, or worse, in my voice, 'And there was no way I was going to allow that.'

Madam Picquery seemed to understand, for she made a sign and the grip around our stomachs loosened a bit. She looked at me, and I tried to hold her gaze – sometimes failing at it. 'Mr Scamander, I'm afraid your reasons matter little from the point of view of your superiors. And the fact you came to America, which is protected by MACUSA orders, as a sanctuary – '

'I didn't do it for that reason,' I interrupted.

She raised her brows, waiting. I gulped before speaking, feeling my cheeks warm up a bit. 'I came to visit the Goldstein's to deliver a copy of my book to Tina. I-I promised I would, so...'

'And you just happened to come now, because...' she said, unfazed.

'Because I've been busy. You can send an owl to my assistant in Flourish & Blotts; she'll confirm it for you.'

'And why is Mr Kowalski, a No-Maj, here with you?'

'We met again coincidently in London and, seeing how he had a – well, tickets to come back to America, I thought it would be a good chance to visit.'

Madam Picquery nodded, taking in this information. 'And what are you planning to do now, given the circumstances?'

I looked at her, and she sent us this queer look as she raised her wand and liberated us from the armchairs. I immediately stood on my feet, Queenie and Jacob as well. They then stared at me, and nodded, trusting my next words. I knew Queenie knew what I was going to say...

But I changed it before I knew it. 'I guess I would be coming back to London, Madam President.'