Newton Artemis Fido Scamander was no stranger to law enforcement. He could freely admit that he had been arrested more times than he (or the tiny green stickman in his pocket) could count. And if one were to consider the fact that Picket had only joined him three months ago, it may have been fair to say that 'stranger' may be putting it lightly - possibly. Theseus' letters definitely seemed inclined to agree with that assessment. It was a touch melodramatic if you asked him. It wasn't as if he could just stand back and watch as innocent creatures were attacked, poached or killed. Besides it was Theseus' idea for him to "explore the world and do what you love". And if that meant that he had to occasionally step outside the parameters of the law to ensure the safety of his creatures he was perfectly content with his decisions.
At the moment however, he was a tad bit concerned about the man glaring at him in the dark alley he'd just apparated them to.
It was a rather cramped space as well. That being said, it was still better than the cramped cabin he'd had to spend the last week on. He really didn't understand how muggles managed with such horrid transportation. He'd only just gotten off the ship a few hours ago. Since he had only brought a small suitcase with him on his journey, clearing customs had been much faster then he had expected and was making the most of the remaining daylight to explore the city. New York truly was a marvel, with its stacks of buildings and sky-touching towers. Unfortunately there appeared to be no wilderness to it whatsoever.
That was what Newt believed until he encountered the beautiful area in the center of the city. Central Park (how original) was the breath of fresh air he'd spent the last hour searching for. He'd placed his case on the ground next to him and sat beneath a lovely oak tree, taking in the sounds of the local fauna. The area was mostly empty with a few people scattered about allowing him to relax and close his eyes.
He had just begun to doze off when he felt Picket moving frantically inside his pocket. Opening his eyes he looked at the wide eyed man in front of him, a rolled-up newspaper held in his outstretched arm poised to strike. Taking in the situation with growing dread Newt deferred to his automatic reply whenever his creatures were placed in harms way, "He's not dangerous!"
The man paused looking at him with disbelief "You have a big freakin' green bug burying into your clothes an ya tellin' me its not dangerous?!"
"What? N-no he's just a bowt-" Newt quickly stopped himself from continuing. The mans appearance suggested he was a muggle and though he was adept at casting short-term memory charms he was quite tired and didn't think it a wise to attempt it in such a state. Therefore he went with his next option: Lie. "A bowt-le. I-it's a rare insect that I've been searching for. He's in my pocket because there's some vanilla inside. It attracts them you see"
The man stared at him for a while before his face morphed into one expressing disgust, as if him caring for Picket was a horrendous crime, before shaking his head and walking away muttering something about "Foreign nature freaks"
Used to the callous comments said during his school days, Newt brushed the comment aside. Deciding that it would be best to leave, Newt got up and dusted himself off before making sure Picket wasn't too shaken up. Seeing his bowtruckle safe and sound, Newt grabbed his suitcase and proceeded to leave the park idly looking around to avoid anyone nearby. In front there was a man in a trench-coat walking in his direction. Hunching his shoulders in order to make himself seem meek and uninteresting he lowered his gaze to the floor to avoid bringing anymore unwanted attention. He had a barely walked past the man, when he felt his elbow being grasped and pulled into the familiar tube that was accompanied by apparation.
Which is why he was now standing in a small, deserted alley with a glaring wizard. And it appeared that said wizards glare had intensified in the few seconds he'd taken to reorient himself. It almost felt as if he had encountered a wild hippogriff and completely disregarded the display of respect that would mandate his continued existence.
He was in the midst of contemplating whether bowing would actually help appease the man in some manner when he saw the glare shift from his face to his breast pocket and change from anger to bemusement.
"Is there a reason you have a bowtruckle in your pocket?". For a moment Newt was taken aback by the surprisingly pleasant voice speaking to him. He spent another moment in delighted surprise that the man knew what a bowtruckle was. And finally his brain registered that he was being spoken to and needed to provide a response.
"U-um yes. This is Picket... He has some, uh, attachment issues." He glanced down at said bowtruckle who was sticking his tongue at him.
Before he could scold Picket on his juvenile behavior the man spoke again, "Right. Regardless, you are aware that the owning of magical creatures is illegal right? Never mind the fact that you almost exposed a magical creature to a no-Maj"
Newt 's faced scrunched up in confusion, "A what?"
The man gave him a look of irritation "No-Maj? No magic? For Isolt's sake! The non-wizard!" Oh dear the death glare was back. Newt looked past the irate mans face to the wall behind "Oh, we call them muggles".
The death glare intensified (and for a second Newt wondered if this was what it would feel like to gaze at a basilisk) "Do you also break the statue of secrecy on a regular basis?! Because sitting in Central Park in broad daylight while talking to a bowtruckle is definitely risking exposure!"
The man, who Newt was starting to suspect was an auror, pinched his nose muttering about "moronic brits" before he looked at Newt again. "Anything you want to say?"
Newt avoided his gaze and muttered quietly "I apologize, I did not think it would be an issue since I told the muggle that Picket was a rare species of insect. He seemed to believe it well enough. After he left I saw that Picket would be a rather, um, odd sight and was preparing to leave. I believe that was when you apparated us to this alley."
It was rather silent after his confession and when Newt looked up, he saw that the man was still glaring at him. Curiously, the gaze appeared to lack the former animosity directed towards him. Rather they looked as if they were seeing through him, analyzing him and taking in all of him at once. Newt felt very flustered under such an intense gaze and was about to question the man when he was beaten to it.
"Whats your name?"
Newt stared at the man warily, but sensing only curious intent replied.
"Newt Scamander" and after some slight hesitation "A-and you are?"
His right eyebrow rose slightly and Newt noticed that without his death glare focused on you he was quite handsome. The mans lip twitched slightly, as if hearing him, and replied
"Percival Graves, Senior Auror for the DMLE."