87. The Head In The Middle

Dover.

The sea breeze carried the salty and wet breath, causing Newt's already sharp hair to stand on end. With his head lowered, he walked towards the cliff, never letting go of the suitcase he carried.

There, on the snow-white cliff, an ugly figure stood, holding a wooden stick in hand. It seemed as though he had been waiting there for quite some time. A shabby black robe billowed in the sea breeze, while a rusty iron bucket lay carelessly in front of him.

"You're late. We're leaving in one minute," the man in the black robe grinned. "Fifty Galleons."

Anxiously, Newt responded, "No, we agreed on thirty galleons."

The man's wide grin revealed yellowed teeth as he let out a weird laugh. "Thirty to go to France, and the other twenty is to ensure I never mention that I saw Newt Scamander illegally leaving the country," he said, "the price of fame, brother."

Newt smiled bitterly—he was being blackmailed.

He didn't have any good options. He was a fish and the man was a knife-wielder. So, he reluctantly reached into his pockets and grabbed a handful of Galleons, handing them over.

After checking the weight, the man in the black robe was satisfied and tucked the galleons into his belt. "Ten seconds - nine, eight, seven..."

Suddenly, the iron bucket on the ground began to vibrate, resembling the spinning drum of a washing machine.

"Three, two--"

Newt took a deep breath, stepped forward, and was immediately sucked away.

In the next moment, he found himself on the streets of Paris, having traveled from the White Cliffs of Dover in England.

Shaking off the dizziness, Newt composed himself.

The taste of these smugglers' inferior door keys wasn't particularly pleasant.

Once he regained his composure, Newt hastily made his way to his hiding place.

This was his first time in Paris, but he had done his homework.

He wasn't traveling for leisure; there could potentially be conflicts or even danger, so he made sure to be well-prepared.

Creating a rough map was one of his important preparations.

He and Tina certainly had a strong connection.

Unfortunately, the poor Muggle policeman had fallen victim to two Confusion spells in a single day, leaving him bewildered for the next few days.

"Hotel...Hotel..." Newt muttered to himself as he searched for the hidden location.

This was where Aurelius and Nagini resided.

"Found it!" Newt's eyes lit up, and he quickly made his way there.

"Hello, sir, how may I assist you?" greeted the hotel waiter, dressed in professional Muggle attire.

"Hello, I... I'm looking for Mr. Aurelius Dumbledore, who resides here," Newt said.

The waiter seemed puzzled and muttered, "Strange, why does everyone seem to be looking for Mr. Dumbledore today?"

"What? Many people have come to see Mr. Dumbledore today?" Newt's heart sank. Who else would be seeking Aurelius? Grindelwald? Or Grimson?

"Yes, you are the third group to come today," the waiter nodded.

"What about the others?"

"Hmm... I'm not sure, but he is currently not in the room," the waiter replied, glancing at the magic display behind the counter that indicated the occupancy of each room.

"He left early with his wife and hasn't returned."

Newt walked out with a vacant expression, feeling a bit lost.

He feels like he made a mistake!

Initially, he believed that Dumbledore had entrusted him to assist in protecting his nephew this time.

He needed to prepare thoroughly, so he decided to come to Paris this afternoon.

His purpose was to gather more information about the French Ministry of Magic.

"Why are you so late?"

The waiter informed me that Aurelius also left after the first visitor departed, and his wife accompanied him.

What on earth! Aurelius isn't even twenty years old, how could he have a wife?

He must have been forced into it!

Fortunately, the second group of visitors didn't appear to be Grimmson, but rather a beautiful woman with a strong American accent.

MACUSA?

Newt immediately thought of Tina, but he quickly shook his head and dismissed the thought: "That's impossible! How could Tina be in Paris?"

At that moment, Newt's wandering eyes met a pair of beautiful eyes.

"Tina?!" Newt was astonished. Even though he hadn't seen her in over six months, he would never forget Tina's eyes. He could recognize her even if she covered her face with a scarf!

You have to trust a magizoologist's ability to observe physical characteristics.

"...Tina! Why are you here?" Newt hurried forward and caught Tina just as she was about to turn and leave.

Tina's hands paused, and reluctantly, she sat back down.

"I'm on a mission, Mr. Scamander," Tina said coldly and somewhat unkindly.

"Mr. Scamander?" Newt didn't understand.

Tina stood up and started to leave, but Newt pursued her again, saying, "Tina, Tina."

This is so stupid!

Haven't you thought about apologizing to her countless times before? Why can't you say a word?

Newt wanted to smack himself twice, but he restrained himself.

As soon as he laid eyes on the person he had thought about day and night, Newt instantly forgot about Aurelius. At that moment, Tina was the only one he saw.

"Mr. Scamander, please stop bothering me, okay? I'm on a mission! I know your opinion of Aurors!" Tina didn't look back, and her leather jacket fluttered as she walked away. Snap.

Newt's heart sank, and he quickly explained, "I realize that my words in that letter might have been a bit extreme..."

"What did you say? 'A group of hypocrites who hold onto delusions'?" Tina scoffed coldly.

Newt was about to kneel and beg for forgiveness. "I'm sorry, but I can't respect those who turn to violence when faced with something they don't understand or fear."

"I'm an Auror, but I don't do that!" Tina retorted.

"I know because you're the exception—"

"It's done, it's done!"

Newt's limited edition metaphor bursts onto the scene!

Newt's magical brain circuit causes Tina to stop and stare at him, her face filled with confusion.

"What?!"