Tina Goldstein sat at the small desk in her apartment in New York, a cup of tea cooling beside her as she flipped through a stack of notes. Though retired from her position as Head of the Department of Aurors at MACUSA, Tina often found herself drawn back into its affairs. She was frequently sought out by her former juniors for advice or unofficial assistance, her expertise too valuable to leave behind completely.
The enchanted quill in her hand hovered over a blank sheet of parchment, waiting for her next thought. Tina tapped the edge of the desk, deep in contemplation.
The ringing of her enchanted phone broke her concentration. She glanced at the glowing runes on its surface and saw Newt's name flicker faintly. Picking up, she answered with a practiced calm.
"Newt," she said, her voice steady but warm. "Is everything alright?"
On the other end, the gentle sounds of magical creatures stirring in their enclosures filtered through the line. Newt's voice came next, steady but laced with urgency. "Tina, are you free to talk? It's important."
Tina straightened in her chair, a hint of worry creeping into her tone. "I'm listening. What's going on?"
Newt didn't hesitate, diving straight into the issue. "There's a poaching network—one far larger than I anticipated. It's organized, Tina. Far more than just a few opportunistic hunters."
Tina reached for a notepad, jotting down his words. "How organized are we talking?"
"Globally," Newt said grimly. "They've set up camps, smuggling routes, and buyers across continents. It's all connected to the Malmorin family—a name I'm sure I've heard in connection with dark dealings before."
Tina frowned, her pen pausing mid-note. "Malmorin… That name does ring a bell. They're an old wizarding family, aren't they?"
"They are," Newt confirmed. "And they seem to be at the center of this operation. I've already raided one of their camps in the Black Forest, but it's clear that was just a fraction of what they're running. There's evidence suggesting they have ties in America as well."
Tina's frown deepened. "In America? Are you sure?"
"I wouldn't have called otherwise," Newt replied, his tone earnest. "This network isn't confined to Europe. It's everywhere."
Tina leaned back in her chair, processing the scope of what he was describing. The Malmorins weren't just wealthy—they were influential. If they were orchestrating a global poaching operation, it would be more than just a magical law enforcement issue.
"I need your help, Tina," Newt continued, his voice steady but imploring. "Could you investigate the American front? See if MACUSA has any leads or records tied to the Malmorin family or their dealings with poachers?"
For a moment, Tina was silent, her mind already moving to the people she could contact, the files she would need to access.
"I'll see what I can do," she said finally, her tone firm. "If this network is as widespread as you think, it's only a matter of time before it reaches us too."
Newt sighed, relief evident in his voice. "Thank you. I'll keep you updated on what we find here."
"You'd better," Tina said, her tone softening into a teasing lilt. "And Newt… be careful."
"I always am," he replied, though they both knew it wasn't entirely true.
As the call ended, Tina placed the receiver down and looked at the notes she'd scribbled during her conversation with Newt. The phrase global poaching operation stood out, underlined twice in bold strokes. She stared at the words for a moment before exhaling sharply and pushing her chair back.
She stood, pacing for a moment before turning to her bookshelf. The rows were neatly packed with old files and reports from her time at MACUSA, each one meticulously labeled and organized. Tina pulled out a stack of files marked "Poaching and Trafficking Cases" and laid them across her desk.
The name Malmorin tugged at her memory, a faint thread of recognition that she couldn't quite place. Flipping through the files with practiced ease, she scanned each page for any mention of the family or their possible connections to the American front of the operation.
Nothing concrete surfaced, but the sheer scope of what Newt had described painted a vivid picture. Camps in Europe, shipments crossing borders, buyers spread across continents—this wasn't the work of disorganized hunters. It was a carefully coordinated network, one with influence and reach that stretched deep into the magical world.
"This isn't just about beasts," Tina murmured, setting down a file and leaning back in her chair. "If they're operating here, they could be threatening the balance of the magical world itself."
Her gaze flicked to a photograph resting on her desk. In the picture, she and Newt stood side by side in front of the Thunderbird Reserve in Arizona, smiling after releasing several rescued creatures. The memory stirred a familiar fire in her chest, one that had driven her through her years as an Auror.
"We'll stop them," she said quietly, her resolve hardening. "Together."
Tina moved to her desk, pulling out fresh sheets of parchment and an enchanted quill. If she was going to tackle this, she needed allies—people she trusted implicitly.
Tina moved to her desk, pulling out fresh sheets of parchment and an enchanted quill. If she was going to tackle this, she needed allies—people she trusted implicitly.
The first name she wrote was Harriet Quince, a sharp and determined junior Auror who had been her protégé in her final years at MACUSA. Harriet's no-nonsense approach to investigations and her relentless pursuit of the truth made her an invaluable ally. Tina knew that if anyone could help connect the dots, it was Harriet.
The second letter was addressed to Lillian Stone, a no-nonsense Magizoologist who had worked alongside Tina in tracking illegal beast traders years ago. If anyone could recognize the telltale signs of poacher activity in America, it was Lillian.
The third name was Benjamin Pratt, a seasoned Auror with a sharp mind and a reputation for uncovering hidden networks. Benjamin's expertise in rooting out dark dealings within the magical community would be crucial.
Finally, she penned a note to Tom Everard, a junior investigator at MACUSA with a knack for uncovering hidden connections in even the most mundane-seeming cases. Tom's easygoing demeanor hid a sharp intellect, and his unconventional methods often yielded surprising results.
Tina sealed each letter with a flick of her wand, the wax melting into MACUSA's official sigil. She carried them to the enchanted owl perch by her window, where sleek, dark-feathered owls waited patiently.
"Deliver these as quickly as you can," she instructed, attaching the letters one by one.
The owls hooted softly in acknowledgment before taking off into the twilight sky, their wings disappearing into the haze of the New York skyline.
Tina stood at the window for a moment, watching until the owls were out of sight. The city below was bustling as always, its streets alive with the glow of street lamps and the hum of life. But to Tina, it felt as though the shadow of the poaching network loomed just beneath the surface, waiting to spread further into her world.
Returning to her desk, Tina reopened the files and notes she had gathered, determined to find any thread that could connect the poachers to American soil. Hours passed as she cross-referenced reports, piecing together fragments of information.
Finally, she stumbled upon a report from years ago—a routine MACUSA investigation into unlicensed magical creature transports. The case had been closed due to lack of evidence, but one name stood out in the records: Malmorin Exports.
Tina's eyes narrowed. 'Exports?' She rifled through more documents, finding scattered mentions of the company in shipping records from ports along the Eastern Seaboard. While nothing directly incriminated the Malmorins, the pattern was unmistakable.
"It's a cover," she muttered, her quill scribbling notes furiously. "They're using legitimate trade routes to smuggle magical creatures."
The connection was tenuous, but it was enough to confirm that Newt's suspicions were correct—the poachers were operating in America, and the Malmorins were at the heart of it.
With her initial findings in hand, Tina knew her next step: gathering the allies she'd contacted and setting up a secure base of operations.
She glanced at the photograph of Newt once more, her resolve unwavering. "We're onto something," she said quietly. "Let's see how far this thread goes." Tina prepared herself for the challenge ahead. The poaching network was vast and dangerous, but with her skills, her connections, and Newt's support, she was ready to face it head-on.
The first light of dawn stretched over New York City, painting the skyline in hues of orange and pink. Tina Goldstein tightened her scarf against the morning chill as she made her way to MACUSA headquarters. Though she no longer held a formal position there, she knew the labyrinthine halls as well as anyone.
Reaching the grand bronze doors, Tina took a deep breath before stepping inside. The bustling sounds of early morning activity filled the air—clerks rushing with stacks of parchment, Aurors discussing assignments, and enchanted memos darting through the corridors like restless birds.
Her destination was clear: the Records Department. If there was any trace of the Malmorin family or their poaching activity in America, it would be buried in those files.
As Tina approached the Records Department, she paused in the hallway, her eyes narrowing at the enchanted plaque on the door. Since her retirement, access to restricted records required an active Auror's credentials—credentials she no longer had.
"Great," she muttered, crossing her arms. "Guess I need a little help."
She glanced around and spotted a familiar figure—a young Auror she had mentored during her final years in the department. The junior, a wiry wizard named Timothy Groves, was hurrying down the corridor with a stack of case files balanced precariously in his arms.
"Timothy," Tina called out, her voice firm but not unkind.
The young man froze mid-step, nearly dropping the files as he turned. "Ms. Goldstein! Uh, I mean… Tina. I didn't expect to see you here."
Tina approached with a small smile. "I need a favor."
Timothy's eyes widened. "Of course! Anything you need."
"I need access to the Records Department," she said simply.
Timothy blinked. "Oh. Well, uh… I'd love to help, but you know they've tightened security since you… well, since you left." He fidgeted slightly. "They only allow active Aurors in there now."
Tina raised an eyebrow. "And you're an active Auror, aren't you?"
"Well, yes, but—"
"Perfect," Tina interrupted smoothly. "You're going to escort me in."
Timothy hesitated, glancing at the plaque on the door. "Isn't that, uh, bending the rules a bit?"
Tina gave him a pointed look. "Timothy, if I'm asking, it's because it's important. Do you trust me?"
The junior Auror straightened, his nervousness giving way to a sense of purpose. "Of course I trust you. Let's go."
With Timothy leading the way, they entered the Records Department. Tina couldn't help but chuckle softly at his stiff posture as he tried to look as official as possible.
The Records Department was a vast labyrinth of enchanted filing cabinets and magical archives. Timothy's credentials allowed them access to the restricted section, where files on dark activities and suspected criminal syndicates were kept.
Tina began her search methodically, pulling file after file and skimming for anything that might connect to the Malmorin family or poaching. Timothy, eager to assist, brought over a stack of additional documents.
After nearly an hour, Tina's sharp eyes landed on a name: The Silver Serpent Syndicate.
Her pulse quickened as she read further. The syndicate was linked to smuggling operations along the Appalachian Mountains and in the American Southwest. The records hinted at connections to magical trade routes, but the details were sparse, suggesting a deliberate effort to obscure their activities.
"This kind of operation," Tina murmured, her thoughts swirling, "always has leaks. Either from the top or the bottom." She jotted down the key details, her instincts telling her there was more to uncover.
Timothy approached cautiously, sensing her focus. "Did you find what you were looking for?"
Tina nodded, slipping the files into her satchel. "I did. Thank you, Timothy."
He beamed, clearly proud to have been of help. "Anything else I can do?"
Tina shook her head, pulling on her coat. "Not for now. But keep your ears open. If you hear anything strange, let me know immediately."
"Yes, ma'am," Timothy said, giving a quick salute before hurrying off.
Tina watched him go, a small smile tugging at her lips. It was good to see the department in capable hands, even if it wasn't her own anymore.
As she left MACUSA, Tina felt a flutter of movement in her satchel. She opened it to find a letter resting atop the files. The handwriting on the envelope was familiar—Lillian Stone.
Standing on the steps of the building, Tina opened the letter and read:
Tina,
I just busted one of their camps. Not sure if it's connected to what you mentioned, but it had the same signs: illegal beast trade, smuggled parts, and a lot of enchanted concealments. I'll bring everything I have and meet you at your place at noon. Let's compare notes then.
Tina smiled at Lillian's efficient tone. Lillian always got straight to the point, a quality Tina deeply appreciated.
As she tucked the letter away, another owl swooped down, dropping a second envelope into her hands. This one bore the bold handwriting of Benjamin Pratt.
Opening it, Tina read:
Goldstein,
I'll be there.
That was all it said, but Tina chuckled at the brevity. "Always direct as ever, Benjamin," she muttered, shaking her head.
With her allies beginning to mobilize, Tina's confidence grew. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together, and with Newt and her team by her side, she was ready to take the next step in dismantling the poaching network.
But, she felt a familiar tug at her heart. The case was urgent, but it had been weeks since she'd seen Queenie. The thought of her younger sister's warm smile and the comforting aroma of the bakery was too tempting to resist.
She hailed a cab and gave the address: 443 Rivington Street. Jacob Kowalski's bakery had become a staple of the neighborhood, known not only for its delicious pastries but also for its homey, welcoming atmosphere.
The bell above the door jingled as Tina entered, the smell of fresh bread and sugar wrapping around her like a warm blanket. The morning rush had tapered off, leaving a few customers scattered at tables, sipping coffee and enjoying their treats. Behind the counter, Queenie was arranging a tray of powdered donuts, her golden curls catching the sunlight streaming through the windows.
The moment Queenie spotted her, her face lit up. "Tina!" she called, setting the tray down and rushing around the counter to embrace her sister.
Tina returned the hug, a rare softness in her expression. "Hey, Queenie."
As they pulled apart, Queenie tilted her head, her brows furrowing slightly. "You're up to something, aren't you?"
Tina rolled her eyes but couldn't help a smirk. "When am I not?"
Queenie chuckled, though the worry lingered in her eyes. "You're getting into trouble again, aren't you?" she said, her tone teasing but protective.
"It's not trouble," Tina replied, brushing off the concern. "It's work."
Queenie gave her a look that said she wasn't convinced but didn't press further. "Come on, sit down. I'll get you some coffee and pastries."
Tina found a corner table, glancing around the bakery as Queenie returned with a steaming mug of coffee and a plate of freshly baked goods.
"Here you go," Queenie said, setting the tray down. "Eat up—you're looking a little peaky."
Tina snorted, picking up a croissant. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."
Queenie slid into the seat across from her, resting her chin on her hands. "So, what's this work of yours? Something exciting?"
Tina hesitated, not wanting to burden her sister with the gravity of the poaching case. "Just helping my junior," she said vaguely.
Queenie's knowing smile made it clear she wasn't buying it. "You're as bad at lying as Jacob."
Tina raised an eyebrow. "Speaking of Jacob, where is he?"
"Oh, he's in the back, working on a new recipe," Queenie said, waving a hand. "You should see him—he's like a little kid with a new toy every time he tries something different." Her smile turned wistful. "I'm so proud of him, you know? This place, everything we've built—it feels like a dream."
Tina softened at the sincerity in her sister's voice. "You two have done something amazing here. It's a bright spot in a dark world."
Queenie reached across the table, placing a hand on Tina's. "And you're out there making the world less dark. Just… be careful, alright?"
Tina smiled faintly. "Always."
After finishing her breakfast, Tina stood and stretched, grabbing a bag of pastries to-go. "Thanks for the coffee, Queenie. And the company."
"Anytime, sis," Queenie said, pulling her into another hug. "Don't be a stranger, okay? And if you need help, you know where to find me."
Tina nodded, the warmth of the visit lingering as she stepped out into the crisp morning air.
Back at her apartment, Tina set the bag of pastries on the counter and returned to her desk. The notes and files spread out before her were a stark contrast to the cheerful ambiance of the bakery, but she felt recharged.
As she picked up Lillian's letter again, reading through it with fresh eyes, her resolve solidified. With her allies rallying and the first threads of the poaching network unraveling, Tina was ready to push forward.
The fight wasn't just about beasts; it was about preserving the delicate balance of the magical world. And for that, she would give everything she had.
The afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows of Newt Scamander's home as he worked at his desk, sorting through notes and letters. The faint sound of the front door creaking open reached his ears, and this time, he was certain who it would be.
Standing, he walked toward the door with a smile. "Arthur," he called out, his voice warm. "I assume it's you this time?"
Sure enough, Arthur stepped inside, followed by Hecate, Taliesin, and Mulan. Arthur grinned, brushing off his coat. "You're getting good at this, Newt."
Newt chuckled, his gaze sweeping over the group. "Well, you do have a distinct energy about you."
Hecate tilted her head curiously. "Distinct energy?"
"Let's just say the creatures aren't the only ones with instincts," Newt replied with a smirk. "Speaking of which, before we move forward with this case, Arthur, there's something we need to handle first."
Arthur exchanged glances with his companions. "Something to handle?"
Newt nodded, gesturing for them to follow him. "Come with me to the basement. It's time you see the magical beasts who want to follow you."
Newt led them down the winding stairs into his enchanted basement, where the familiar sight of lush habitats and magical creatures greeted them. The space hummed with life, and as soon as Arthur and the others stepped inside, a ripple of excitement passed through the creatures.
Almost immediately, a griffin bounded forward, its majestic wings unfurling slightly as it nudged Arthur with its beak. "Well, hello there," Arthur said, laughing as he patted its sleek feathers.
An occamy slithered gracefully toward Hecate, its shimmering scales glinting in the light as it coiled around her wrist like a living bracelet. Hecate smiled faintly, her fingers brushing against its smooth surface. "Charming," she murmured.
A pair of diricawls approached Taliesin, chirping happily as they hopped around his feet. He crouched to greet them, his grin widening. "Lively ones, aren't you?"
Mulan, meanwhile, found herself face-to-face with a nundu, its immense, feline form radiating a quiet strength. She placed a steady hand on its head, meeting its gaze with calm determination. "You'll need a name," she said softly, earning a low, rumbling purr.
As each creature chose its companion, the group couldn't help but smile at the bonds forming before their eyes.
Arthur straightened, turning to Newt. "We'll bring them to Avalon later. For now, we'll ask them to wait here a bit longer while we handle the investigation."
Newt nodded, watching as Arthur addressed the creatures. "You'll all come with us soon," Arthur said gently. "But for now, stay here and rest. We'll be back later this evening."
The beasts seemed to understand, settling back into their habitats as Arthur and the others ascended the stairs.
Back in the sitting room, the group gathered around as Newt began to recount the latest updates.
"I've received replies from several of my friends," Newt explained, spreading out the letters on the table. "Most are willing to help. One of them even mentioned an apprentice of theirs who's part of a magical beast conservation group."
Arthur leaned forward, curious. "What about them?"
Newt tapped one of the letters. "They've reported seeing suspicious activity in France—specifically on magical grounds where rare creatures are known to gather. They've offered to meet us there to share what they've found."
Hecate nodded thoughtfully. "That could be a critical lead."
Newt continued, "Tina's also working on the American front. She's been digging into records at MACUSA and coordinating with others to track down leads. Between her and what we've uncovered here, it's clear this poaching network spans continents."
"So," Mulan said, her voice calm but firm, "France is our next destination."
"Exactly," Newt confirmed. "The apprentice will meet us there, and we'll scout the area together."
Newt moved to the corner of the room, where a large, detailed map of magical Europe was pinned to the wall. He pointed to a marked apparition point in a small village near the French countryside.
"This will be our landing spot," he said. "From there, it's a short walk to the conservation area where the apprentice is waiting."
Arthur glanced at the map, his brow furrowing. "How are we splitting up for the trip?"
Newt adjusted his coat. "We'll apparate in pairs. I'll take the lead with Arthur and Hecate, while Taliesin and Mulan follow."
Taliesin grinned, twirling a piece of parchment between his fingers. "Ready when you are."
Mulan adjusted the strap of her weapon. "Let's go."
Arthur nodded, gripping his wand tightly. He turned to Newt. "Lead the way."
With a quick flick of his wand, Newt activated the map's apparition markers. The room filled with the faint hum of magical energy, and one by one, they disappeared into the ether, bound for France and the next step in their journey.
The group emerged from the shimmering apparition spell, the salty breeze of the French coast brushing against their faces. Before them lay the outskirts of Mont Saint-Michel, the magical village hidden in the shadow of the towering abbey. The streets were cobbled, and the air carried the faint scent of seaweed and ancient stone.
Newt led the way, his steps purposeful but unhurried. They followed a winding path, bordered by hedgerows that seemed to hum faintly with enchantments.
After a short walk, a young man appeared ahead, standing near a low stone wall. His eyes widened as he spotted the group, and when he recognized Newt, his face lit up with a mixture of awe and excitement.
"Mr. Scamander!" he exclaimed, practically tripping over himself as he approached.
Newt raised a hand in a gentle greeting, smiling kindly. "Hello. I take it you're the apprentice we're here to meet?"
The young man nodded eagerly, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Yes, sir! I—I've read all your books. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them changed my life! I mean, your observations on the erumpent alone…"
Newt held up a hand, his smile softening. "I appreciate the enthusiasm, truly, but we're here on business. Would you mind showing us the way?"
The apprentice flushed, clearly trying to rein in his excitement. "Of course, of course. My name's Matthieu, by the way."
He turned and motioned for them to follow, leading them along a path that opened up to a series of large enclosures. Inside, a variety of magical creatures were being cared for by a group of young witches and wizards, each working with passion and care.
As they walked through the area, Arthur watched the young conservationists with curiosity. Several were tending to injured creatures, using wands and enchanted salves to heal cuts and bruises. Others were feeding the beasts, carefully measuring out portions of glowing fruits and leaves.
Matthieu gestured around the space proudly. "This is where we take care of the creatures we've rescued. Many of them were found injured or malnourished, but we do our best to rehabilitate them before releasing them back into the wild."
Arthur glanced at a witch carefully grooming the fur of a mooncalf and asked, "Are you all from Beauxbatons?"
One of the conservationists, a tall wizard with a thick American accent, grinned and shook his head. "Nope! I'm from Ilvermorny. Thunderbird house!"
Another voice chimed in cheerfully, "I'm from Mahoutokoro!" A young woman with a warm smile waved, her hands busy tying an intricate enchantment around a protective enclosure.
Arthur couldn't help but smile. The passion of the group was infectious, their love for magical creatures evident in every movement.
Newt watched the scene unfold with quiet admiration, his gaze lingering on the young conservationists. Seeing them work so diligently, their diverse backgrounds united by a common cause, stirred something deep within him.
Matthieu spoke up, his voice earnest. "My mentor told me stories about you, Mr. Scamander—how you helped found a small club at Hogwarts for students who cared about magical creatures. I think that's what inspired her to start this group."
Newt blinked, caught off guard by the mention of his old school days. He remembered the club vividly—a small gathering of like-minded students, all passionate about protecting and understanding magical creatures. The memory brought a faint smile to his lips.
"She hasn't forgotten," Newt murmured, almost to himself. His mind drifted to the friend who had created this conservation group. The idea that their shared passion had blossomed into something so impactful filled him with quiet pride.
Hecate noticed his expression and stepped closer. "It must be gratifying," she said softly, "to see the seeds you planted grow into something this meaningful."
Newt nodded, his voice low. "It reminds me of why we started all this in the first place. Protecting these creatures... it's worth every risk."
As Matthieu led them further into the grounds, they passed enclosures holding a variety of magical creatures. A young occamy stretched its shimmering wings in the sunlight, while a bowtruckle darted between the branches of an enchanted tree.
Arthur turned to Matthieu. "The work you're doing here—it's incredible. You should all be proud."
Matthieu smiled, his excitement tempered with humility. "We're just trying to make a difference. These creatures deserve a chance, and we'll do everything we can to give it to them."
Newt placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. "You're doing more than just making a difference, Matthieu. You're carrying forward a legacy. And that's no small thing."
Matthieu flushed with pride but quickly refocused. "The magical ground you're investigating isn't far from here. I'll guide you there when you're ready."
Arthur nodded. "Let's take a moment to learn more about the area and your work first. The more we know, the better prepared we'll be."
With that, the group settled into the conservation grounds, each of them quietly inspired by the dedication of the young witches and wizards who had made this place their home.
Matthieu's expression grew serious as he gestured for the group to gather closer. "So… teacher, Professor Livia Baudelaire, mentioned you'd be investigating a poacher group, Mr. Scamander," he said, his voice steady despite the weight of the subject.
Newt nodded. "Yes, that's correct. A thunderbird—Frank, my companion—was attacked during one of his weekly visits to a familiar sanctuary. It wasn't a random attack. The poachers were trying to capture him."
Arthur folded his arms, stepping in to add context. "We tracked it back to Germany, to a camp in the Black Forest. But what we found there revealed something bigger—this isn't just a local issue."
"It's global," one of the conservationists murmured, their tone somber.
Matthieu exchanged glances with the others, a silent understanding passing between them. One of the conservationists, a witch with auburn hair tied back in a loose braid, stepped forward, pulling a rolled-up map from her satchel. She spread it out on a nearby table, tapping a section with her wand.
"This is the Orléans Forest," Matthieu explained, pointing to a marked area on the map. "One of our members has reported suspicious activity here—movement that doesn't align with any known magical or non-magical activity. We don't have an exact location yet, but with your help, I believe we can find it."
Another conservationist, the Ilvermorny wizard, chimed in eagerly. "We've narrowed down the possible areas based on the sightings and where the creatures seem most agitated. If we work together, we might be able to locate the camp today."
The group nodded in agreement, their collective determination palpable.
Taliesin clapped his hands together, grinning. "Alright, lads and lassies, it seems we're going to be working together for a bit. Let's make it official with some introductions, shall we?"
Newt, standing at the head of the group, took the lead. "Newt Scamander, magizoologist," he said simply. Then, with a slight smile, he gestured to the others.
Arthur stepped forward. "Arthur Pendragon," he said, glancing around the group. "I'm… well, let's just say I'm learning about the magical world, and I'm here to help in whatever way I can."
Hecate nodded subtly. "Hecate, manager of arcane studies," she said, her tone calm but authoritative.
"Taliesin," the bard said with a flourish, bowing dramatically. "Musician, mage, and occasional troublemaker."
Mulan stepped up, her posture straight and commanding. "Hua Mulan. I'll be assisting with strategy and combat, should it come to that."
Then the conservationists introduced themselves, their unique personalities came to the forefront, adding color and life to the group dynamic.
Matthieu, standing at the forefront, gave a polite nod. His voice was steady and thoughtful, reflecting his role as the group's informal leader. "Matthieu Bellamy, apprentice to Professor Livia Baudelaire. I specialize in magical creature rehabilitation and ecosystem restoration. It's an honor to meet you all." His gaze lingered briefly on Newt, the admiration evident in his tone.
The Ilvermorny wizard stepped forward next with a wide grin and a hearty handshake for Arthur. "Name's Joseph O'Connor! Proud Thunderbird alum and a bit of a jack-of-all-trades when it comes to beasts. I'm the guy you want if something needs wrangling—or if you need someone to lighten the mood." He laughed, the sound warm and infectious.
The Mahoutokoro witch next, her movements graceful and precise, inclined her head respectfully. "Aiko Takamura," she said softly, her voice carrying a melodic lilt. "Mahoutokoro graduate, specializing in magical beast enchantments and behavior studies. It is a pleasure to meet such dedicated individuals." Her smile was serene, her presence calming.
The auburn-haired witch stepped up last, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her voice was firm, but her eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Elise Marceau. I'm from Beauxbatons, like Matthieu, but my focus is more… hands-on. Traps, dismantling illegal enclosures, that sort of thing." She glanced at Newt and added, "Your work inspired me to do what I do. It's not just about saving creatures—it's about stopping those who hurt them."
Taliesin clapped his hands together once the introductions were done, his grin mischievous. "Well, aren't you a colorful bunch? Matthieu the planner, Joseph the wrangler, Aiko the charmer, and Elise the... well, let's call you the 'enforcer.'"
Elise smirked. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Arthur chuckled at the bard's theatrics but felt a newfound respect for each of the conservationists. Their skills and dedication were clear, and he could see why Newt valued their efforts.
"Let's make this count," Arthur said, glancing around at the group.
Joseph grinned, patting his wand holster. "With all of us? No poacher stands a chance."
The atmosphere shifted, growing more focused and united. Matthieu rolled up the map, handing it to Newt. "If we work together, we'll find the camp."
Arthur nodded, his gaze resolute. "We will."
Taliesin, ever the lighthearted one, grinned. "Then let's get to it. The beasts aren't the only ones who need rescuing—it's time to rattle the poachers' cages."
With their plan in motion, the newly formed team set out toward the Orléans Forest, ready to uncover the next piece of the puzzle in their battle against the poaching network.
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