She was a wounded beast, ridiculed by Second Salemers. He was a simple passerby, just wanting to help. She never expected to be helped by anyone for that matter, let alone an expert of what she was. And he . . . He never expected to find the love of...
Gnarlack thought. "Hmm, let's consider it a cover charge."
I stood up from my stool and clicked over in my heels to where Newt and Gnarlack sat. I thought I could help Newt out with a little feminine charm.
Newt pulled out a sack of galleons and slid them across the table to the goblin. "Huh, MACUSA's offerin' more'n that," Gnarlack said, unimpressed.
Before Newt could offer up anymore items, I slid up behind Gnarlack and tapped him on the shoulder delicately. He spun around.
"Hey, you," I said as sweetly as possible.
"Jeannie! What're you doing back here in this dump?"
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"Thought I'd stop by, hmm? Whatcha up to?" I said, winking at Newt.
"I'm kinda busy now, Jeannie," said Gnarlack. "With a deal . . ."
"Oh, I won't tell," I said. "C'mon, let's see what you got," I said to Newt.
He pulled out a beautiful metal object, something like a spyglass. "Oooo," I commented.
Gnarlack was still unimpressed. "Lunascope? I got five."
"Frozen Ashwinder egg!" Newt blurted out.
"Now we're-" Gnarlack suddenly spotted Pickett, peeking out of Newt's pocket. "-wait a minute, that's a Bowtruckle, right?"
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Newt put his hand over his pocket protectively. "No."
"Ah, come on, that's a Bowtruckle," said Gnarlack. "The pick locks, am I right?"
"You're not having him," said Newt.
"Well, good luck gettin' back alive, Me. Scamander, what with the whole MACUSA on your back," Gnarlack began get up to walk away.
"C'mon, Gnarlack," I called after him. "This guy gotta have some-"
"Alright!" Newt said in agony. I turned around, shocked.
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Newt began to pull Pickett from his pocket and hand him over to Gnarlack. Newt turned away from the squeaking Bowtruckle.
Gnarlack began to give Newt the information he'd promised. "Somethin' invisible's been wreakin' havoc around Fifth Avenue. You may wanna check out Macy's department store. Might help with what you're lookin' for."
"Dougal . . ." Newt whispered. "Right, one last thing. There's a Mr. Graves who works for MACUSA. I was wondering what you knew of his background."
"You ask too many questions, Mr Scamander. That can get you killed."
Suddenly, "MACUSA ARE COMING!" a house-elf shrieked, then Disapparated.
