Please keep in mind that I'm French, hence the English mistakes! ;-)

CHAPTER 1 - CÉAD MÍLE FÁILTE

"Mr Scamander!"

Eyes fixed on Newt Scamander's mop of tousled hair, I'm making my way through the crowd of Times Square, shoving everyone out of my way. A lady pushing a pram. An old man with impressive sideburns. A little boy holding an enormous ice cream in his hand which, in the rush, ended up spilled all over his school uniform. People give me angry glares and mumble curses under their breath which I just ignore.

"Sorry!... Sorry!" I reply absent-mindedly.

I am breathless when I catch up with Scamander. Doctor Maynard was right. It was presumptuous of me to assume that I had fully recovered in four days from seven months of tortures. I feel like I've aged twenty years. But I couldn't wait any longer.

"Mr Scamander?" I ask, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He jumps and turns around, alarmed.

"Oh, it's you…"

A look of relief washes over him and his face brightens with a smile. That smile… I am momentarily speechless. His eyes are more green than azure-blue. His hair is more red than brown and he's got freckles all over his face, but that smile… He's got the same smile.

"I… I'm sorry…" I stammer, a little discountenanced. "I didn't mean to give you a fright."

"No… No, it's fine. I was just…" He looks nervously around. "… lost in thought."

"Percival Graves," I introduce myself, holding out my hand. I feel him hesitate. "The real one, if that's what you're wondering."

"Oh! No! I mean… I know you're not… Your eyes… Your eyes are different… There was something very dark in his eyes… Very dark." He finally shakes my hand. "Newt Scamander. But I think you already know who I am. Glad to see you up and running. I didn't think you'd leave hospital that soon, to be honest."

"Yes, it is a bit prematurate, indeed. I was supposed to spend at least fifteen more days in hospital, but then I learnt you were about to leave America by the end of the week and I urged the doctors to let me leave. I was told where you were staying, but when I arrived at the hotel, you had just left. Your picture was on the front page of The Pettifogger (1) – not that I read that rag, huh! – so it made it easy for me to spot you in the crowd. It must be said that your coat doesn't exactly go unnoticed."

For a short instant, he is staring into space, as if he was trying to remember each of my words, to fit them together like pieces of a puzzle and to make some sense out of them.

"Err… Is there… Is there anything I can do for you?" He asks, uncertain.

"No! No… You've already done more than enough! Miss Goldstein told me all about your adventure and President Picquery couldn't stop praising your name. I am deeply indebted to you. I'd rather not imagine how much longer I would have rotted in that rathole without your help. I just couldn't resolve to let you go back to England without thanking you properly."

"Oh… I cannot take credit for this," he protests, waving his hand in the air. "It's Archibald who found you."

I raise an inquisitive brow.

"Archibald?"

"Yes. Archibald. My crup." (2)

I must look even more confused for he hastens to add in a low voice:

"Oh, sorry! Crups strongly resemble Muggl- well, No-Majs's dogs. The only difference is that they have a forked tail. And a keener sense of smell. It's been a walk in the park for him to find you."

"I see… I'd like to thank my saviour viva voce but you know how the MACUSA is now, if you let him out of your case, I'll then have no choice but to arrest you. And that would be incredibly upsetting…"

I smile at him and he chuckles nervously while touching the frontal pocket of his coat. For a second, I'd swear I saw what looked like a praying mantis. The fruit of my imagination, probably. Or the side effects of all those healing potions I have been given the last couple of days.

"Yes, and believe me, it wouldn't be a good idea anyway. Crups are really nice to wizards but they have a grudge against No-Majs. And Archibald is a bundle of nerves!"

"Then I count on you to thank him on my behalf."

"I certainly will."

I feel him on the verge of taking his leave of me and I can't resign myself to letting him go. I have to talk to him. I need to talk to him.

"Look, what would you say to me inviting you to lunch? I owe you that one. I know a very good restaurant on the corner of the 47th street. The manageress is an Irish witch and her lamb stew is exquisite!"

"That's really kind of you but… you owe me nothing, really. And I'm a vegetarian, anyway."

Of course he is. How did I not think about that? A man who dedicates his life to taking care of animals certainly doesn't wish them to end up on his plate.

"Well, her asparagus pie is said to be delicious," I answer maliciously. "Oh, come on. Please?"

"Very well. You win. I'm coming!" He abdicates, his lips curling into a smile.

And Merlin forgives me, but I hate that smile as much as I cherish it. That smile could earn him anything he wants from me. Because he's got the same smile.

We were only a few minutes walk away from the 47th street but the journey literally wore me out. Yet I'm doing my best not to let it show when I turn into that dark alley which is so familiar to me.

A rat gets out of a bin lying on its side. A gutter pours greenish liquid onto the cobblestones and a sewer smell tickles our nostrils.

"I had imagined a bit more refined place," Scamander jokes. "Are you sure they serve asparagus here?"

I can't help but laugh.

"Don't be so slanderous. Wait a second…"

I place my hand on the middle of the wall, on a slightly darker brick and, after having checked we were away from prying eyes, I whisper an incantation. Nothing happens.

"It should open…" I grumble.

"Don't you ever use your wand?"

"It is forbidden if we are likely to be witnessed by No-Majs."

He rolls his eyes.

"Do you really know any No-Maj who'd venture into such a sordid cul-de-sac?! It's a cut-throat area!"

I ignore him and repeat the incantation.

"Dammit! Why does it not open?!"

I'm not strong enough anymore to generate wandless magic. I feel like I've been drained of all my energy, my legs threaten to fold beneath me and my head is spinning, spinning… oooOOOOOOh!

Scamander catches me just before my head hits the ground.

"You have to have good reflexes when you breed occamys," he explains, noticing my surprise. "because, you see, when they are brooding, if you come a little too close to… It doesn't matter… It doesn't interest anyone but me… "

"No, no! Go on, please!"

"No, really!" He shakes his head and smiles.

Always that bloody smile.

"Are you alright?" he asks, helping me to get up.

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine. I think. I'm just feeling a little weak."

He adjusts my scarf, slowly, his eyes focused on the piece of fabric. When he looks up, his eyes meet mine and for once, he doesn't try to avoid them. We stare at each other in silence for a moment. I'm getting lost in a labyrinth of freckles and my heart starts to beat faster than it should. Dammit.

"May I?" he asks after a while.

I swallow hard and instinctively close my eyes.

He gently moves me away from the wall, bringing me out of my torpor.

"To hell with the American laws!" He exclaims, brandishing his wand and pointing it at the wall in a gracious move. ""CÉAD MÍLE FÁILTE!" (3)

Thanks for reading! :-)

(1) I've named it The Pettifogger as a nod to the Quibbler.

(2) The crups are really part of JKR's magical bestiary. You can learn more about them by googling their name.

(3) Literally "A hundred thousand welcomes" in Irish Gaelic.