France, Paris. 1926.
Newt has arrived in Paris, his hand clutching around the handle of his briefcase that held all of his magical creatures.
You see, Newt is a magizoologist and travelled the world rescuing wizarding world creatures, such as Gryphorns and Nifflers.
His Bowtruckle, a green, sticklike creature, names Pickett sat underneath the collar of his jacket, watching the new environment with wide eyes.
The cities of Paris smelled like fresh bread and coffee, the scents wafting from bakeries that seemed to be around every corner.
Newt stopped outside a hotel, Grandeur Triomphe Hotel.
It’s white painted walls stood stark against the clouds and other buildings, yet despite the modern look it kept the same old architecture as the other buildings that lined Paris’s streets.
“This is it Pickett, our home for the next week,” Newt whispered to the bowtruckle as they walked through the grand doors.
It smelt clean inside, like just-done laundry. The walls were also a pristine white, yet the ceilings were old, fancy patterns with gold accents.
Newt walked up the stairs to Floor 2 and stopped outside Room 104.
Unlocking the doors, inside the room was grand- like really grand.
Old furniture sat along deep brown walls with golden painted skirting boards.
An elegant carpet sat beneath the leather armchairs and sofa that surrounded a fire place and the four-poster bed sat neatly inside another room connected to what was now deduced to be the living room.
After giving the room a quick sweep, Newt unpacked his stuff and set his suitcase down.
He flicked open the latches and walked inside to where all his other magical creatures were held.
“Did everyone have a good boat trip?” He asked softly to the creatures and a chorus of chirps and whistles answered his question.