______ was lying on the floor, looking beat to hell, tied up, her back to him. She didn't even hear him come in, and he could hear her crying, even as she was trying to be quiet.

What is going on? Newt thought. He didn't know what to do at first, he just stood there, in shock. He felt like someone had just put a knife though his chest, and his heart was in his throat. This was worse than he could've imagined. This was the last thing he'd ever want to see. Even though his throat felt tight and his chest hurt, Newt finally managed to say something. "______!" he exclaimed, and he ran over to her, lying on the floor.

Her crying, at the moment, was the only indication she was still alive. She was so hurt, so shocked to see Newt, she didn't have anything to say. Looking into his eyes, knowing that maybe what just happened was over, she began to cry all over again. She couldn't get any words out through the sobs.

Newt examined her physical wounds. Her face was scratched and beat to hell, and her blouses arms had been ripped so they only went to her forearms. When he saw what had been written on her arm, he wanted to start crying with her. He wanted to hug her, to tell her she was okay now, to assure her he was there.

The word "Muggle" had been written on her arm in horrible, sloppy handwriting.

Newt didn't want to ask what else had been done to her. He wanted to just get her out of here, and he wanted to see whoever could've done this. This was the first time he had ever felt so protective over her, so angry at something someone did. Nothing compared to this. He didn't want to hear what she had to endure while he was unconscious and looking for her – but she felt like she had to tell him.

Her sobs had finally started to die down, and she seemed to be able to talk through them now. "Newt, I, I..." she began.

"Sh," he told her, sitting her up. "Take it slow. Don't hurt yourself."

She had one question on her mind: she needed to know what that spell was the dark wizard had used on her. He had said it over and over, letting it affect her in waves, letting it torture her. The pain it brought was consuming, and whenever it hit, it was as if pins, needles, and knifes were being pieced into every square inch of her body. He would write one letter, say the spell, write another letter, say the spell...

"Newt, what is 'crucio?'" she asked. The word rolled off her tongue with pain, as if just saying it would bring the pain back. As if her saying it would make her experience it all over again.

Newt's eyes widened at hearing the word. He recognized it as Cruciatus Curse, one of the Unforgiveable Curses. Just using it once would guarantee you a trip to Azkaban, the wizarding prison. It wasn't something you used lightly, it wasn't something people could so soon get over...

It wasn't something he'd wish upon even his worst enemy.

"It's an unforgiveable curse," he began to tell her in a slow voice. He was afraid if he spoke at any other tone, it might hurt her. He wasn't sure how, but he feared it. "It tortures its victim with unbearable pain. People have been known to be driven into insanity with it."

Just at hearing this piece of information, ______ started crying all over again. Newt, not knowing what ese to do, pulled her into a hug. "Hey, hey, listen. We're going to get out of here, we're going to leave, and we're never going to come back. We're going to forget this ever happened." He told her.

That's what he wanted to happen. Looking at her arm, though, he knew that it would scar. He knew she was going to forever be reminded that she is a Muggle, as if it was the worst thing a person could be. As if being a Muggle was like being dirt that people could, and would, step all over, like it meant you were worthless.

______ felt so weak, and she was mad at herself for crying. Come on, she thought. You're better than this. I know you are. Her cries began to slow, and as they slowly came to a stop, she looked up at Newt. "He took your suitcase upstairs," she told him. "I have no idea what he wants to do with it, but I know it's bad. He wants to do something with one of your creatures, and that's as far as I know."

There was a sudden wave of anger coursed through him. He needed to find whoever this dark wizard was, he wanted to see him being locked up. He wanted to see him rot for what he did to ______. He had never felt so sure of something. He wouldn't let him put a hand on any of his creatures, that was for sure. He couldn't let him have that kind of power. Although he knew nothing in that case was dangerous, that didn't mean nothing could be dangerous. Any one of those creatures could put up a mad fight if they were provoked.

Kind of like Newt himself.

"Let's go, then," he said, standing up. He offered her a hand and she took it, pulling her up. He was amazed she could even stand after all of that, but considering their situation, he wouldn't be surprised if it was entirely adrenaline-induced.

He didn't let go of her hand as they dashed out of the room, going back up the stairs, then finding the other flight and going up it. He feared that if he let her hand go for even one second, she'd get separated from him. He'd lose her again. He couldn't have that, not now, not ever.

The top floor was like one long hallway, leading to double doors. Just looking down it was enough to strike an eerie feeling into Newt, and he squeezed ______'s hand. "Stay close," he told her, and with one hand, he pulled out his wand. They crept down the hallway, trying the door.

What was beyond it was a strange sight.

The room was a strange shade of green, but at this point the wallpaper had been torn to hell and you mostly only saw the bare wall behind it. There was a row of tables, each with tubes. The tables themselves looked dusty while everything else looked like it had just been used. It gave Newt a bad vibe, and it made him pull ______ closer to him. "I don't see my suitcase," he told her. "Are you sure it's up here?"

"Positive," she told him. "I remember being in this exact room before..." she trailed off, but Newt got the idea. Where was his suitcase? Even further, where was this dark wizard?

Well, he didn't have to wonder about either question for long.

"I see you found the Muggle," a voice rang out, and Newt spun around, coming face to face with who he guessed was the dark wizard. Then again, who else could it be? "Frail thing tried to put up a fight when I took this," he held up Newt's suitcase. "Of course, she was aided by that stupid little creature of yours. The thing got the better of my eye."

Newt looked over the wizards face with no sympathy for him. His only thought was to thank Pickett, he had tried his best to protect ______. Exactly like he wanted him to. Newt pointed his wand at his case, and as though the wizard read his mind, he whipped his own out faster than anything Newt had seen. "Expelliarmus."

Newt's wand flew out of his hand and on the ground, and before he could make a grab for it, the wizard had it under his foot. He rolled it towards him, picking it up and looking at it. "You think I'm stupid? I'm not letting you get your case back that easy." As he said this, he held each side of Newt's wand, snapping it in half.

"You're going to have to try a little harder than that," the wizard spat, throwing the crushed wand pieces at the ground.

"What do you want?" Newt asked the wizard. "Who even are you?"

"Your case. You certainly own an interesting one, Mister Scamander. As soon as it entered New York, it was spread all around about what it was full of." He said, bringing the case in front of his face and looking at it. "They call me Maverick. While I'd love to stay and chat, I've got things to do. Oh, this has barely even started. I might still need you though, so for now..." he pointed his wand at Newt. "I'll just need to distract you."

"I'm not easily going to just turn my back now," Newt told him.

"I know. That's why I need a damn good distraction." Maverick was still pointing his wand at Newt, and before he could get another word in, he uttered a spell.

An unforgiveable one.

"Imperio."

Before he knew it, Newt was undergoing the effects of the Imperius Curse. He didn't say a word before he let go of the hand of a confused ______. "What is going on? Newt?" she called out, no longer worried about Maverick, but for what he did to Newt.

"He can't hear you, you idiotic Muggle," Maverick spat at her. "He's under my command."

She turned towards Maverick, anger in her veins. "What are you going to do him?" she shouted, going up to the wizard. He easily pushed her away with one hand, still using his free one to control Newt.

"It's less what I'm going to do to him, and more what I'm going to make him do to you," the wizard told her.

She gave him a confused look, fear registering in her eyes. She didn't want to know what was on Maverick's sick, twisted mind. Whatever he was going to make Newt do, she feared it. She remembered back to what happened to her before. The curse, the carving...

"Why so scared?" he asked her, a sick smile on his face. "I'm sure you're going to love this," he told her.

"How could I love anything you'd do?"

"Because this is simply just a distraction. Nothing more, nothing less. However, it'll prove to be quite... shameful." He said. He led Newt to one of the tables, picking up a full vile of some pealy, shining potion. "This is what they call amortentia," Maverick told her. "It makes the victim obsessed with the inflictor. It can make the drinker excited, dangerously unstable, gives them obsession... the perfect distraction if it's inflicted on someone you care about."

Newt approached ______, a look of distraction in his eyes. He had no idea what was happening, what he was doing...

He wouldn't even remember doing this.

"No," ______ shook her head. "I won't let you have Newt drink that potion."

"Who said he was going to be the one drinking it?"

Still led by Maverick, Newt pinned ______ against the wall and opened the vile. The smell of the potion hit ______'s nose, and the smells coming from it almost calmed her. She smelt warm coffee, like she had with Newt every morning in New York, sea water, and something else, something that smelt close to her too...

Newt's jacket?

"Don't do this," ______ begged, looking over at Maverick.

"Didn't you learn anything?" he asked her. "Begging doesn't get you anywhere."

______ tore her eyes away from him, looking at Newt. It's okay, she thought. I know this isn't your fault. Whatever happens next, it's not your fault.

"Bottoms up," Maverick said, and Newt brought the potion up to ______'s lips, making her drink it.