The Witch That Time Forgave | Newtmione (2)

Chapter 4 | The Minister For Magic

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

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Hermione's silence was beginning to unnerve Newt.

It had been over an hour since they witnessed the prophecy and left the hall. Honestly, Newt didn't know how long they spent sequestered away in the chamber, but it seemed as though it had taken at least that long. Leaving the Hall of Prophecies, upon entering the Department of Mysteries central atrium, they were accosted by a group of Aurors, with Hector Fawley himself, leading them as the bumbling moustached man looked on with a gleeful expression.

The Head of the Department looked away, guilty, but his eyes stabbed piercing glares into the Minister and the Undersecretary. His opinion clear, sending an apologetic look to the returning group.

Noticeably, it seemed that Head Auror Shafiq, himself, was physically restrained by his subordinates, the very Aurors under his command with a pair of shackles, binding his hands in front of his body, an Auror hanging on either arm. His lip bloody and torn, as though their alteration had become quite physical.

Hermione stayed silent as the Aurors cautiously advanced. All of them giving their full attention to the bushy haired woman, vigilantly aware of her magical capabilities and duelling prowess. Newt was tempted to scoff, utter fools they were for ignoring the others in their group. Though, it would seem Hermione was their main target.

Keeper Williams and Ms. Jones were questioned by one of the Ministers underlings to the side. Their conversation became a stern reproach, which didn't appear to register much with either of the two, before shooing them away.

To the other side, Theseus was restrained and bound before having his wand confiscated, all the while looking to the Head Auror in question. He stopped resisting, accepting his fate with stoic grace after receiving a sharp look and the slightest shake of his head from Shafiq.

Newt couldn't help his rising worry and shock as they quietly and quickly restrained Hermione and him. She was strangely compliant during the arrest; an Auror seized their wands before being leading them away into the busy halls of the Ministry. Newt's worry for the woman was eating away at his senses.

Smartly dressed witches and wizards swiftly made way for the group. Stares, suspicion and whispers of gossip following their every step, and yet still Hermione said and did nothing, allowing herself to be pulled along by the arm, that dazed expression never once leaving her normally brilliant brown eyes.

The press would have a field day. Two high-ranking Aurors and the latest heroes of the Wizarding World, bound and shackled, paraded through the halls like bottom-barrel criminals.

Clearly, the Ministry was unaware of the definition of discretion. The Minister led the way, smiling to all those they passed, offering small waves as he put on his most charming front, completely ignoring the possible consequences of their actions if the press caught wind of their current predicament.

After months of comfortable peace, Hermione and Newt were thrust into the limelight once more. The Heroes of the Wizarding World Unmasked.

Those comforting, quiet days had met a rather tragic end.

It wasn't their day.

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It just isn't my day. Tina Goldstein stares steadfastly ahead, refusing to meet Grindelwald's unsettling gaze.

She holds back a sigh as silence reigns in the room. The Aurors stationed beside her shift uncomfortably on their feet. Tina purses her lips, irritation painting her features as her eyes settle on Madam Picquery's back, who sits directly across the cold slab table from Grindelwald.