Long before this land became a nation, its coastal regions were scattered colonies belonging to different European powers.
Aside from the native peoples, most Europeans who arrived were exiles. Criminals. Undesirables. Even among witches and wizards, the pattern was the same.
Some had committed crimes.
Some had offended the wrong person and fled to escape retaliation.
In short, the new world was a melting pot of the desperate and the dangerous.
As immigration increased, British settlers clustered together and spread Protestantism. Puritan influence grew rapidly.
With it came an escalating hatred toward witches and wizards.
The most infamous result was the Second Salem incident of 1693.
A pastor's daughter fell ill with a mysterious affliction. It was declared to be a witch's curse. What followed was a sweeping witch hunt.
Nineteen people were hanged. One was pressed to death beneath stones.
This was not merely ignorance.
There were hands pushing events from behind the curtain.
The Purifiers.
A concept unique to North America.
Many notorious magical mercenaries expelled from Europe had washed ashore here. Some concealed their identities and sought quiet lives. Others found freedom in chaos. For them, this land was paradise.
Profit came first.
They trafficked magical beings. Even fellow wizards were treated as commodities.
To earn coin, Purifiers would disguise Muggles as witches and hand them to religious authorities. The Second Salem tragedy bore their fingerprints.
When MACUSA was established, it battled the Purifiers for nearly a century before the organization was largely dismantled.
But remnants survived.
From that point onward, those remnants severed all ties with wizarding society and embraced their identity as Purifiers openly.
They taught their descendants, whether Muggle or magically gifted, that wizards must be eradicated. Their power, they claimed, was not magic but divine judgment granted by God to cleanse corruption.
Because of them, North American wizarding society remained far more isolated from the Muggle world than its European counterpart.
Only in recent decades had that separation softened.
Tina had been caught in the fallout of their resurgence.
Not long ago, the newly appointed Head of Magical Law Enforcement, Sam Picquery, proposed a sweeping bill.
Every wand in North America would be registered and monitored by MACUSA.
Any unauthorized or illegal spell would trigger immediate detection.
On the surface, it resembled Britain's Trace.
In practice, it was far stricter.
It did not merely apply to minors. Adults would also fall under surveillance.
Such an aggressive policy provoked fierce resistance.
Tina was among its most vocal opponents. In fact, she had clashed with Sam Picquery more fiercely than anyone else. She was not alone, either. Numerous Aurors she had mentored stood behind her.
The bill was shelved.
Retaliation followed.
Under the pretext of her age, Tina was reassigned to trivial clerical duties and meaningless errands.
For someone with her temperament, such humiliation was intolerable.
She resigned.
Newt finished his explanation with a sigh.
"Perhaps retirement is for the best. At our age, entanglement in political struggles can turn dangerous. Once you step too far in, it is difficult to step back."
Newt was awkward in conversation and disinterested in intrigue. But he was not naive.
On the contrary, he understood people clearly.
Dumbledore had once persuaded him to act not through manipulation, but because Newt chose to.
"Picquery…" Tom repeated softly. "Descendant of Seraphina Picquery."
Seraphina Picquery was the former President of MACUSA who had captured Grindelwald. The political capital from that victory had secured her two decades in office.
Newt nodded. "Sam Picquery is her nephew."
"Dynasties everywhere," Tom murmured.
Newt tried to reason with him. "There is no simple right or wrong. Each side has its position. I plan to take Tina traveling for a while. She has worked long enough. Do you truly want her to return to that environment?"
"Here's the problem." Tom's smile was bright, almost too bright. "If she had chosen retirement herself, I would say nothing. But this? She was forced out."
When he was still in a Muggle school, long before Hogwarts, Tom had learned a simple truth.
A leader protects their own.
Right and wrong were secondary.
The message mattered.
And the message must be backed by action.
Newt rubbed his temples.
"You… Let's not discuss that now. I brought you something rare. Are you going to ignore it?"
He was deflecting.
Tom let him.
"Of course not. I've been waiting."
Newt produced a smaller suitcase.
Then another.
From the opening tumbled two round shapes, rolling clumsily into the grass.
Two pandas.
Black and white, plump and blinking in confusion.
Tom widened his eyes theatrically.
"Two?"
Newt squinted at him. "Why do I feel like you're not actually surprised?"
He had deliberately withheld that detail to create a grand reveal.
Tom seemed delighted.
But something felt… rehearsed.
"Who says that? I'm ecstatic."
Tom quickly produced fresh bamboo shoots he had prepared in advance and crouched to greet the newcomers.
The pandas, still disoriented, immediately locked onto the bamboo and waddled toward him with eager determination.
Tom realized something.
Time Affinity could not be abused casually.
He had glimpsed Newt's return and the two pandas the previous night.
The first time he saw it, genuine excitement had surged through him.
Now he was performing that excitement.
Seeing fragments of the future dulled the present.
It made even joy feel rehearsed.
Perhaps that was why so many omniscient beings eventually grew cold.
When nothing surprises you, nothing truly moves you.