The Witch That Time Forgave | Newtmione (2)

Chapter 3 | Hall of Prophecy

¡THIS IS NOT MY STORY! The story was make by nyxblack on fanfiction.net.

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"I see you're growing out your facial hair once again. Mother would be horrified." Newt sips on his fresh cup of tea, a smirk pulling at his lips.

Hermione barely manages to contain the giggles threatening to spill from her lips as the two brothers bicker. Their lanky frames looking cramped on the transfigured loveseat and the small, delicate teacups looking far too small for their large hands.

"I think there's little that could truly horrify Mother." Theseus counters with a smirk of his own curving his lips.

After the shock of Theseus's arrival, the trio eased into a comfortable rhythm. The stress and tension from their earlier conversation quickly melting away, thanks to the inclusion of the high-spirited young man.

It was easy to see that the two brothers got on quite well. Hermione's intelligent brown eyes took in the newcomer, registering everything she notices as the two brothers continue to squabble.

Short, copper brown hair laying mostly flat on his head with the slightest hint of curl noticeable at the tips. His pale complexion — similar to Newt's — slightly darkened by the generous spattering of freckles across his striking features and that rust-coloured stubble along his jaw. Vivid blue eyes that mirror Newt's own were focused entirely on his younger brother.

Hermione's unable deduce his current occupation by his style of dress alone, but he's dressed sophisticatedly. Unlike Newt, Theseus' attire looks tasteful enough for him to blend into a crowd easily, either in the Muggle or Wizard World. Though, his dark overcoat is especially impressive. She struggles to hold back a sigh, all of her research before her fall through time had only mentioned this man in passing.

I always did like a well-dressed man... Can I trust him? Hermione's fingers tighten around the warm teacup. Her eyes drawn to the smooth, light-coloured wand with little adornment on the table.

She narrows her eyes, unconsciously leaning forward to examine it more closely, unfamiliar with the type of wood. Seeing that they are distracted, her ink-stained fingers brush gently against the smooth wood. A small gasp falling from her lips as the magic contained within gently brushes against her own in greeting, unknown to her the two brothers have fallen silent, two pairs of curious blue eyes watching her.

"Manners, Ms. Granger. Don't you know it's quite rude to touch another Witch or Wizard's wand without their permission?" Theseus's amused voice breaks the silence in the room, pulling Hermione from her thoughts.

Letting out a startled squeak, the young time travelling witch's head snaps up, wild hair dancing behind her in a whirlwind. A blazing trail of crimson swiftly spreading across her cheeks as she gnaws at her lip, thoroughly embarrassed to have been caught red-handed.

"I'll show you mine, if you show me yours." Theseus' eyes meet hers; wiggling his brows with that smirk on his face.

Wide-eyed and shocked by his brother's words, Newt chokes on his tea. He sets it aside before he drops it with a groan. His head lulls into his hands, as a sharp bark falls from Hermione's lips.

—

A thunderclap crack sounds throughout the empty, darkened alleyway. A dark-skinned man now stands alone in the shadows. His shrewd eyes dart around, tense and alert despite the late hour.

With an irritated sigh, Head Auror Shafiq relaxes, glancing up into the bottomless black sky. His eyes flutter shut, focusing again on his subordinate's magical signature, before another crack of thunder echoes through the empty alleyway as he Disapparates away.