Theseus

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Newt's POV

"Where are you going?" Jacob asked as I stepped out of the door.

"The French Ministry of Magic," I said.

"That's the last place Creedence would go," Jeanne countered, grabbing me by the arm of my blue coat. 

"There's a box hidden in the Ministry, Jeanne. A box that can tell us who Creedence really is."

"A box? What're you talking about?" Jacob asked.

"Trust me," I said, taking Jeanne's hand. 

Jeanne realized she needed to come with me. 

"Jacob, would you be able to watch Amelia for the hour?" Jeanne asked. "I've just put her down for a nap so she shouldn't even fuss."

"Yeah, sure, I guess," Jacob shrugged.

"Wonderful, thank you. Accio." The items began appearing from within my case. "Here's her bag, a bottle just in case," Jeanne said, handing them over to Jacob.

"Mr. Flamel may be around to help if she wakes," I said.

"Flamel . . . ?" Jacob breathed, confused. "Can you magic up a little food for me too?" he asked sheepishly.

A roast beef sandwich appeared in Jacob's hands. "You guys are amazing."

"We will be back before you know it," Jeanne said, giving Jacob a hug and a kiss on the cheek goodbye.

And with that, Jeanne and I were out on the streets of Paris. 

"The box is in the ancestral records room, Jeanne, so it'll be three floors down," I explained, setting down my case in the alleyway. I produced a vial.

"Is that polyjuice?" she asked softly. 

"Just enough to get me inside." I downed it.

Jeanne looked upon my new face and grimaced. "Oh . . ."

"It's my brother Theseus. He's an Auror," I took up my case, "and a hugger."

"I can see that," Jeanne mumbled as I went off. She pulled up her wild hair into a tight bun to look more formal. 

We entered the Ministry. 

Upon the balcony staring down at us was none other than the real Theseus. 

I took Jeanne by the hand and walked swiftly under the balcony. 

"I don't suppose you can Dispparate on Ministry premises," I said quickly. 

"Nope," Jeanne affirmed just as I changed back. "Though your face is much better, I will admit . . . Newt?" She stopped at a message board.

"Urgence! Urgence! Un sorcier suivi, Newt Scamander, est entré au ministère des affaires magiques."

"Newt!" called a voice. It was Theseus.

Jeanne and I began running.

"Why is he chasing us?" Jeanne asked.

"I think I may have mentioned we have a very complicated relationship," I said, shuffling around the corner.

"Newt, stop!" Theseus shouted again.

"I didn't think this complicated," Jeanne said. "Does he want to kill you?"

"Frequently," I said, running past a large tower of cases stacked upon each other. 

Theseus yelled a spell causing the cases to go flying.

Jeanne simply countered it, holding her wand upright to keep the cases suspended in the air. "He needs to control his temper," she said. With a flick of her wrist, she sent Theseus flying backward into a rolling chair, bound his hands behind his back, and spun him into an empty office.

"I think that might have been the best moment of revenge in my life," I laughed quietly. With a pass of my wand, the cases returned to their rightful places on the cart.

We reached the front desk of the archive. The secretary sat waiting.

"This is Leta Lestrange," I lied, gesturing to Jeanne.

"Yes, and this is my fiancé," Jeanne said, smiling softly.

"Allez-y," the secretary said finally.

The large doors to the archive swung open.





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