ATLAS || N. SCAMANDER

{one}

LONDON

"Do you have your bag?"

"Yes, mum."

"How about your passport?"

"Yes, mum."

"What about your-"

Atlas Willow cuts her mother off before she asks another question on if she has something or not. "Mum, this is the third time we've gone over this. Yes, I have everything."

Her mother, Roselle Willow, smiles softly. "I know, but you're going to America! A whole different place with a whole different set of laws. I just want to make sure you're prepared."

"Thank you for your concern, mum, but I have everything I need. This won't be my first time in New York. I'll be gone for a year or two, but I'll write. Now go home and stop worrying about me." Atlas is sure that she's going to miss her boat if they went through everything she was bringing for a fourth time. "I'll miss you," Atlas speaks, her voice softening, "but there's really no reason to worry."

Roselle places a kiss on her daughter's forehead. "I know," she says, also lowering her voice, "I'll miss you too."

"I'm to leave now, okay?" Her mother nods before letting her go. "I'll see you sooner than you think."

NEW YORK

Atlas steps foot onto foreign soil. Having been there before, she knows what to expect, but keeps her wand close.

Approaching customs, she waits behind a tall stranger in a neat blue coat and a beat up case at his side. By the time he's left, she's gotten far into her daydream and forgets, for a brief moment, that she is in a public space. Startled, she quickly steps forward and hands the man at customs her passport. He looks it over before speaking. "Let me check your bag now, ma'am. Just to make sure there aren't any edibles inside."

She fumbles with the clip on the side for a moment so that it may be muggle-worthy. After all, a muggle seeing her bag full of an alchemy lab wouldn't pass well with MACUSA.

After her bag checks out, the man welcomes her to New York and she smiles politely before rushing off. Into the city she went.

NEW YORK

The busy streets keeps Atlas more aware than usual. The clinking of vials in her bag were surly enough to raise alarm if not careful.

Spotting the man from earlier, she finds herself curious and follows him. He was an intriguing fellow and familiar also. He stops in a crowd for the New Salem Philanthropic Society, their banner depicting a set of hands snapping a wand over a fire.

Atlas pushes forward in the crowd to stand next to the man, planning to drag him from the crowd. "You, friends!" The lady addressing the crowd now speaking to herself and the man. "What drew you to our meeting today?"

"Well," she starts but was cut off by the lady.

"Are you seekers? Seekers after truth?"

The man speaks, "I'm more of a chaser, really."

The lady seemed satisfied with the answer given and once again addresses the crowd as a whole. Allowing herself to become distracted once again, she almost doesn't notice when the lady addresses them again.

"What do you say to that, friends?"

Atlas doesn't answer, but instead follows the man when he suddenly pushes past her and up the stairs to the bank.