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"Oh Newt! What are you doing back here?" Tina's voice is surprised as she turns to look at the approaching magizoologist. She's delighted, her hands that were dancing along her wand holster now racing up to release the nervous energy against her breastbone as her body turns to face him. Beside her is a familiar face, Percival Graves. Though clearly not the man Newt had met last.
The man stood with a false confidence, spoken by the way he shifts his weight almost imperceptibly, as if preparing to jump aside, his hands, placed strategically with the one holding papers stretched out in a way to make it easier to cover the younger auror beside him, his other thumb is tucked neatly into his pocket, moments from grasping his wand that sits in his holster just barely out of immediate reach. His eyes make quick, analyzing movements as he catalogs Newt's person, before darting around the room at all the exits and other people in the room, before returning to Newt again as he finishes his turn to also face the magizoologist.
Newt can almost taste the director's magic, it's so powerful, it permeates the air ready to leap to his people's defense wordlessly at a moments notice. Percival Graves was a force to be reckoned with. Newt averts his eyes to avoid eye contact as he catalogs his creatures locations on his body. Pickett was in his pocket. Teddy was also in her pocket. Edward was in his cocoon on his wrist. His case was latched securely and still in his hand. His wand was tucked behind his ear; he should stop doing that, he keeps losing it. Until he remembers he's expected to answer his friends quiestion. "I'm, uh, well here for an, interview?" The answer comes out as a question that he rushes to correct; "Madam President, she uh, sent me an invite, and, here I am." A glance at Tina's face tells him that she understood the what he meant so he didnt bother trying to explain furthur.
"An interview?" Tina's next question was answered by the director who still eyes Newt with a healthy wariness. "Yes. Madam President and I read Mr. Scamander here's book, and found it informative and educated. We're hoping to pull Mr. Scamander in as a consultant." The director's voice is the same, except very different. It holds a certain warmth to it now, with an echoing undertone that Newt usually equates to herd animals who've been separated for too long. While Tina is still gaping at the information Percival Graves has tucked his paperwork beneath his arm and offered his hand to Newt to shake. "Percival Graves, I don't think we've properly met." His arm is strategically positioned to be just a moment away from covering Tina and the others behind him, his other hand still just out of reach of his wand, he's open-lipped smiling, not baring his teeth just expressing a polite friendliness. Newt averts eye contact as he accepts the hand shake firmly, not backing down before the predator before him but also not challenging.
"Newt Scamander, call me Newt. I'm glad you liked my book." Newt glances at Tina again, where she's standing looking confused, one hand still releasing nervous energy against her breast bone, the other resting across her stomach clutching at the outer side of her elbow. She's tilted her head slightly, like a canid expressing curiousity. Her eyes flicking between Percival and Newt like she's trying to figure out a particularly complex puzzle.
"Shall we? We can do the formal interview in my office." Newt looked back at Percival as the man turned his body in an open way meant to show direction, motioning towards the end of the corridor where a door sit open just a crack. The door is a rich polished oak, likely with matching furniture inside, Newt allows himself to be bodily directed towards the office as he follows ahead of Percival with a purposely relaxed ease, the door has a placard reading; Director of Magical Security; Percival G. Graves. Along with the MACUSA logo.
The door is lined with runes, etched carefully into the frame and lining, the magic that pulses from it as they make contact with it is clearly new and still learning. Must have been changed after the reveal. Inside the office is oak furniture in the same style, also with inconspicuous runes carved in the legs of tables and chairs or on shelves. There are small impersonal knick knacks on the shelves, along with law books. Newt feels pleased at the note of his book sitting on a shelf within reach of the workchair, nearly resembling his personal version with the amount of bookmarks and sticky notes poking out.
There is a single framed picture, Newt can instantly recognize it as he has a copy in his work shed in the suitcase. It's the final members of the 5E dragon squad from the war. Who he now recognizes as a much younger Percival Graves stands, fondly rolling his eyes with the arm of Theseus Scamander thrown over his shoulder. Theseus is cracking up, his body language far too pleased for all that they had experienced at that point. To Theseus's side is the other two members, who'd both died in the final deployment. And in the middle stood the final dragon that hadn't been discharged yet, a Ukrainian Ironbelly named Ursala, with a much younger Newt Scamander on her shoulders, scratching her chin as she stretched her neck.
"Take a seat, I only have a few questions for you, as we all know you're more then qualified. Then we can discuss perks, and getting you permits and licenses for what you have and what you'll need." Newt watches as Percival shuts the door behind them, his eyes glancing around at the runes, moving notably stiffer than before the director sits at his work chair and shuffles the papers in his hands again. Second guessing himself for a moment before his face shutters and switches back to the polite friendliness as he looks back up, seeking eye contact again. Newt averts his gaze.
Newt sits down in slow but smooth, clear, well communicated movements he would use to calm a frightened or anxious creature, while he tries not to choke on the man's magic. Where it soaked the air in the main office space, comfortable but not quite at ease, here it consumed the air, roiling and anxious. He could feel where the magic had connected to the young runes, feeding them power and information in an attempt to release the built up anxiety.
Newt takes a few minutes to take slow deep breathes, allowing Percival time to calm down discreetly. When the magic has become less all-consuming and more calm, like waves in the middle of the ocean. Before nodding and looking up at the man. "You have questions?"
Percival's eyes track the movement of Newt's hands as he settles the case between his feet beneath his chair, and flick up to catch the movement of Pickett peeking out of his pocket. He glances down to reread the top paper in the stack he's still holding before jumping back up to find eye contact again. "We got a missive from the Ministry of Magic a few weeks ago demanding we hand you over to them, something about a broken travel ban? Is there anything you can tell me about that?"
Newt shuffles his feet to expell the nervous energy the question brings up, his hands automatically reaching for the case handles in case he needs to make a swift escape. His eyes flicker around the room before moving back to Percival. "Ah, right. After heading back to Britain to publish my book the Ministry decided to ban my travel rights unless I came to uh, work for them." Newt allowed his fingers to tap a soothing rhythm into the case handle as he watched Percival's dark eyes track the movement. "I didn't like what they wanted me to do, but I had to get to Paris for a rescue. So I left."
Percival's hands sit still, imperceptibly twitching as his eyes track across the page, reading whatever the ministry had to say to convince MACUSA to send him back. "Did you succeed? I recall getting an assignment report from Ms. Goldstein that said you had been vital in her information web around there." His eyes flicked up to catch Newt's hand that still tapped the silent rhythm.
"Uh no, I couldn't help who I was there to help, but I did manage to rescue a few creatures from a traveling circus that collapsed and escaped into muggle territory, and dismantle a few poaching rings. So it's good I went when I did." Newt frowned a bit as he thought about the obscurial boy, looking away from the director who'd nearly died for the boy unwillingly. Eyes darting to the door again in inspection of the runes.
"Will we have to worry about getting anything out of Britain for you? I assume you would also have creatures at your homeland, wouldnt want to leave anything behind or risk you trying to sneak in and get caught." Percival elaborates at the confused look Newt shot at him, a small reassuring smile on his face as he settled in his seat. His fingers tapping on the backs of the pages, his legs still stiff, but his magic has slowed it's nervous bouncy pulsing to calmer shallower waves.
"No, no, I've got, uh, everybody. I figured I wasn't going to be, well making regular trips back, so I rounded up the main facility and made a separate area for new arrivals." Newt relaxed slowly, brushing a hand over his case to indicate his meaning. Making eye contact for a moment as Percival gives him a pleased smile.
"Good. That is sufficient answers, you do not have to worry about us handing you over at any point. Before i ask any of my scholaristic questions about your book we should update the list of creatures and get you some permits organized." As he says this the director pulls the second and third sheet from the stack and slide the across the desk to the magizoologist. "This is the list that Grindlewald put together. I'm not sure how much I trust it so feel free to write out a new one."
Newt nods as he skims the pages, already spotting some misidentified creatures, and some needed to change the individual number, or be crossed off entirely in the case of Frank. Making sure to remember to add the Zuowo, Chupacabra, Fwooper, and Kelpie to the list, and to change the Nundu and Graphorn numbers, to account for Nancy's mate and the twin Graphorn babies that were born the week prior, as those would be big deals to forget. He leaves the Obscurial on the list but marks it with a small note to say it's a dead specimen.
Sliding the paper back to the director he notes how the man shows signs of distress through the clicking of his tongue, the nervous rap of his hands on the desk, and his magic spiking up in intensity every few seconds and building up towards the end, as he reads furthur down the list. The man finishes reading it for the second time before closing his eyes and letting himself relax for a few minutes before nodding to himself.
"This, will, take a few weeks to organize but I will get them pushed through for you." He stands up, offering his hand to be shaken, Newt accepts it, nodding at the man with a smile. "Glad to have you here Mr. Scamander."
Newt lifts up his case and nods as he's led towards the door. "I look forward to working with you again Mr. Graves." "Again?" Percival asks after a moments pause,looking for clarification to which Newt responds with a calm smile and a directing nod at the photo. The same photo who's other three copies were destroyed in an attempt to cover up the involvement of dragons in the war.
Percival is still staring at the photo as Newt ducks out of his office and heads towards the bullpen once again. He hopes this will help him make an impact on creature laws.