I swear I'm not out to get the niffler! I just had a prompt like "Grindelwald is out wrecking havoc and poison is involved" in my plot bunny list, and I figured I couldn't pick on Newt EVERY time.
Although I kinda did in the end...
But then, that would be spoilers.
DISCLAIMER: NEOCOLAI DOES NOT OWN FANTASTIC BEASTS OR ANYTHING RELATED!
Enjoy! :D
"You see, a blood oath is a very tricky thing," Newt explained, shoving aside a few jars and half-opened parcels away from the center of the table before rolling out a parchment.
Jacob raised one eyebrow in pseudo appreciation for the flowery, Latin-y script. "So it's like blood brothers," he guessed, nodding at the drawing of two wizards clasping each other's wrist. "One tribe hates the other but … somehow these two unite? Am I right?"
He caught Newt's blank stare and made a quick mental retreat. Nevermind, then. Better let the wizard explain the magical stuff.
"No. No, not at all," Newt said, pointing to some of the fancy lettering. "A blood oath is an unbreakable vow. It's a magical pact so strong that to break such an oath would mean instant death for the purjerer. Grindelwald and Dumbledore made a blood oath not to fight one another - that's why Dumbledore sent me to find Credence."
"What, does he think Credence can beat Grindewald?" Jacob queried. Watching an army of blue dragons evaporate some of the ministry's best wizards didn't make a man feel confident that he was on the winning side. 'Retreat and regroup' seemed to be the most logical tactic at this point.
"Maybe," Newt allowed, "But Grindelwald has already influenced Credence, and he's still an uncontrollable force. He'll need training before he can be counted on in a war. Thank you, Bunty," he added, nodding briskly at the homely young woman as she set a tea tray on the table.
"Thanks," Jacob echoed warmly, accepting a delicate cup and saucer. How did fine china manage to survive a cave full of thundering, frolicking behemoths, let alone the disorganized habitat of a magizoologist? He set the cup aside, looking for the sugar, and lunged just as the niffler made a beeline for the spoon. "Give it here!"
"If the blood oath can be countered," Newt said, ignoring his tea as he underlined a few paragraphs, "Theoretically, Dumbledore could lead an army against Grindelwald."
"Sounds messy," Jacob commented, snagging the spoon and tossing it into his teacup. He smirked at the growling niffler and grabbed a few sugar cubes, deliberately plinking them into his tea one by one before stirring. The niffler's beady eyes fixated on the gleaming silver rod. It chittered low in its throat, then pounced.
"Uh-uh!" Jacob protested, wrestling against the tiny paws. "Newt! Can't you lure it off or something?"
"Bunty, please put the niffler in its cage," Newt droned, marking another paragraph and comparing it to a second parchment.
The young woman looked on complacently, undisturbed by the commotion. Hands already sticky with dissolving sugar, Jacob gave up in disgust and shoved the teacup towards the little beast. "Have at it. It's got your dirty paw prints all over it already."
Snarling, the niffler stuffed the teaspoon into its pouch and prowled around the teacup, sniffing it curiously before bracing two paws on the rim and lapping enthusiastically at the dark brew.
"Oh. No, not Jacob's," Newt said, finally cluing in to the upheaval. "Sorry, she's rather fond of tea. I'll have Bunty fetch you another cup. Bunty!"
Ambling up to the table, Bunty blinked slowly and regarded Newt's untouched cup. "You haven't drunk your tea, Mister Scamander."
"What? Yes, of course," Newt rattled, taking a large gulp and making a face. "Thank you. Excellent tea, Bunty. Would you please bring another cup for Jacob?"
"Cream and sugar?" Bunty asked breezily.
"Uh…." Glancing at the full tray with milk, sugar cubes, and biscuits, Jacob answered, "Just the tea, thanks."
Newt froze in the middle of swiping his sleeve over his mouth. Sniffing at the dark stain, he waited until Bunty strolled from the room before seizing the teapot and lifting the lid, inhaling sharply. "No," he said, thrusting the teapot aside and flicking away the niffler's teacup. Jacob jumped as delicate china shattered.
"No, no, no, no," Newt exclaimed, sweeping up the niffler in both hands. He pried apart its tiny gums, palpated both paws, and then flipped it upside down, thrusting two fingers against its stomach. "Sorry, so sorry, but you shouldn't have drunk that. Jacob, don't touch the tea! The biscuits, the sugar - it could all be contaminated."
"Contaminated?" Jacob echoed, cringing sympathetically as the niffler squealed before a thin stream of murky liquid spurted from its throat.
"Trust me, you'll thank me for this later," Newt murmured, cupping the shivering animal against his shoulder. He darted to the shelves, snatching leaves and bits of roots and what looked like a rough stone. "Imperio. It has to be. Bunty would never do this."
"Newt, what's happening?" Jacob demanded, scooting back from the table. He hovered, watching the wizard balance an unhappy niffler and whatever plant he was rolling under his palm, and sprang forward to hold the wriggling creature. "She poisoned us?"
"Not her!" Newt insisted. "Grindelwald. Bunty wouldn't side with him. She's absolutely loyal. The creatures know she's safe. Not everyone can fight off an Imperio for long, however. I should have known - she was behaving very oddly this morning."
"Imperio…." Jacob repeated, bewildered.
"It's a mind-controlling curse. It's unforgivable, which means that most wizards aren't trained to defend against it. She probably isn't even aware she came to work this morning."
"Is he gonna be okay?" Jacob asked, staring in horror at the bundle of matted fur in his hands. The niffler had stopped struggling and now panted softly, its eyes beginning to glaze.
"Fast reacting poison," Newt said rapidly, tapping his wand against the small mortar containing the pulped leaves and granules. Instantly the concoction flashed and melted down into a brown slurry. Another wave of his wand eradicated the steam. "Hold her still."
Measuring out a thin reed of the mixture, Newt pried open the niffler's mouth and carefully dribbled some of the liquid down her throat. One droplet after another, ignoring the niffler's snorts and protesting whines, he forced the liquid under its tongue. At last he tossed the reed away and grabbed the mortar, swigging down the contents with a revulsed expression.
"Ghastly," he mumbled, wiping his chin. "Of course she hates it. It'll counteract most poisons, though; I think she'll avoid the worst of it."
"So she'll be fine now," Jacob said, relieved. Poor thing. She was shivering convulsively, rubbing her paws over her eyes as though they ached.
Dismally Newt shook his head. "Fever's only the beginning," he said. "She'll have to finish detoxifying on her own. Hold her for a minute; I need to find Bunty."
"But you drank the tea, too!" Jacob protested as the Brit snagged his wand and loped to the door. "Should you be going after her…. Alone?" he concluded feebly as the door clattered shut.
Glumly he leaned against the counter, cradling the snuffling niffler. Was this just the beginning of Grindelwald's oppression? Every manner of protective spells guarded the suitcase - Newt had always assured him of that - and now someone had infiltrated his most precious sanctuary. Was nowhere safe?
A miserable hiccup erupted from the niffler. Holding it against his shoulder, Jacob patted its back and hushed soothingly, pacing in front of the counter. What a rotten summer. First Queenie left, then Grindelwald wiped out the ministry's reinforcements, and now this chubby little pest was suffering on top of it all. It was a wonder Newt was taking everything so calmly. There was only so much a man could bear before he raised his voice or uppended a table.
"Guess raising dragons will do that to you," Jacob considered, patting down the niffler's rumpled fur. "Something tries to eat you long enough, nothing surprises you."
He swiveled at the sound of tramping feet, and slumped in relief when Newt ducked inside the shed. The wizard's hair and suit was more rumpled, if possible, but his wand hand was steady.
"She's all right now," Newt said thinly. "I sent her home. As I thought - she wasn't even aware that she had arrived today. One of Grindelwald's followers must have intercepted her along the way. I directed her to a safe house. They can check her memories; make sure she's protected from a counter attack. Give her here now," he directed, holding out his hands for the niffler.
Reluctantly Jacob relinquished the trembling creature, watching haplessly as Newt bundled it into the crook of his arm and fetched a dropper bottle. "Will she make it?"
"Most likely," Newt said, some of the tension leaching from his voice, "But she'll have a long night. Would you object to staying a while longer? I can't leave her alone for long, and the niffler babies might need a midnight feeding - "
"Say no more," Jacob interrupted, holding up his hand with a weary grin. "Course I'll help out."
With a wan smile that never reached his eyes, Newt nodded crisply and settled back in a chair, coaxing the niffler to swallow droplets of milky fluid. The approach was gentler, and far less frantic than when he had administered the counter toxin, alluding to Jacob that the worst of the danger was indeed past. Reassured that Newt had the situation well in hand, he glanced around the disheveled shed and began tidying up. The dreaded tea and biscuits were set aside in a high place where Newt could dispose of them properly. (Jacob didn't want to chance of contaminating the water or soil inside the pseudo environment.) The shards of china were swept up, and - under Newt's direction - dumped in an innocuous black bin that immediately incinerated the pieces. Jars of herbs were restoppered and pushed away from the edge of the counter.
Anything more I can do?" Jacob offered, frowning sympathetically for the niffler as it chittered and pushed the dropper away.
"Mm-mm," Newt hummed to the niffler, prodding from another angle. "Come on now. You know it can't hurt you."
Shaking his head, Jacob scooted a chair closer to the table and sat down heavily, staring at the tea-stained, neglected parchments. Reluctantly he picked out a few crinkled papers that looked like they were written in sloppy English and began to leaf through them. It was going to be a long night.
He picked up on it pretty quick for not having Ol' Bill's doctoring skills. A light tremble running inconsistently through Newt's frame. A burnished flush that spread from his cheeks to his arms. A faint crinkling of the eye, the only outlet for unheeded pain.
"Newt, how much of that tea did you drink?" Jacob asked softly.
"Just a swallow," the Brit was quick to say. He glanced up and blanched under Jacob's scrutiny. "Maybe a cup," he amended. "Bunty brought some in before you sat down. I didn't think to check - "
"Agh, Newt!" Jacob growled, slapping the arms of his chair and surging to his feet.
"I took the antidote," the wizard protested immediately. "It's just a mild reaction. A small fever, some vertigo - it'll pass within twelve hours. There's really nothing to worry about."
"Uh-huh," Jacob retorted, planting his hand on the Brit's forehead. "You're burning up."
"That's the fever," Newt said easily. "Look, it's not as if I haven't dealt with poisonous creatures before. I know the symptoms. I have a much higher immunity than a niffler."
"You couldn't have told me she'd got to you, too!" Jacob protested. "You think I would only stick around 'cause the critters needed me? All you had to do was ask!"
"I didn't want to trouble you," Newt said. "You weren't a medical officer in the war. You wouldn't have been able to help any more than what I've already done. It would have needlessly distressed you."
"Oh, I'm distressed all right." Jacob snorted. Grumbling under his breath, he plucked up a tattered quilt that looked like it might have nested a few kneazle kittens at some point and fluffed it out, spreading it over the ailing wizard.
"Look, you really needn't bother," Newt protested half-heartedly before he was forced to readjust his hold on the niffler to accommodate the blanket. "I'll be fine by morning..."
"Are there any clean cups around?" Jacob asked, tromping to the counter to inspect a dusty saucer that had taken residence amongst the potted herbs.
"Top cupboard," Newt directed, apparently resigned to the fact that he was about to be mollycoddled whether he liked it or not. "Don't take the spoons out; I just got the niffler settled."
"No spoons," Jacob muttered in confirmation. There was a teapot at least - and a matching array of cups and saucers. So Newt did keep a spare guest set after all. "Any of the tea safe?"
"Not tea," Newt said, dipping lower into the chair and tugging the blanket until it looped over one shoulder and dangled shy of the niffler's nose. "Willow bark. In the crock on the right. There should be some powdered unicorn horn by the mortar. Just a half spoonful."
Gauging a half spoonful without an actual spoon wasn't the easiest task. Jacob finally shrugged and measured a small amount into his palm, tossing it into the pot along with a handful of white, papery bark. The water he retrieved from the fresh source outside, not trusting anything that Bunty might have brought in. He glanced around for a hearth, realizing he'd never thought much about a source of fire in a leather briefcase, and jumped back when Newt idly flicked his wand, instantly bringing the water to a full steam.
"Water heating spell," the wizard said with a faint smirk. "Keeps any sparks out of the woodland habitats."
"Must be helpful in the winter," Jacob muttered. He poured the dubious brew into a slender teacup and held it out to Newt, pretending not to notice the slight tremor in the wizard's hand.
"See? Right as rain in no time," Newt assured, taking a generous sip. He grimaced, wrinkling his nose like a squirrel that had found a worm in its acorn.
"I'm guessing magic doesn't improve the taste much," Jacob snarked. He took a whiff of the soggy pulp in the dregs and mimicked the expression. "Phew! Ever wonder why the niffler hates it?"
"Sugar nullifies the effectiveness," Newt droned, as though repeating a long-practiced lecture. "She's got to learn to take it without indulging her sweet tooth."
Jacob didn't want to know the implications of that particular argument. Either the niffler poked her snout into too many questionable substances, or Newt was a regular on someone's assassination roster. It was easier just to pretend that he was oblivious to the mayhem of Newt Scamander's existence. No wonder Theseus seemed a little too attached every time he got to see his brother again.
A soft clatter of china sent him whirling around, prepared for the return of Bunty or - worse still - the sight of Newt tumbling onto the floor. The Brit was slumped all right, but his breathing was even and his head was tucked against the crook of the chair at just the right angle where he would be working a kink out of his neck by the time he woke up. Still nestled securely in the crook of Newt's arm, the niffler blinked softly at Jacob, too placated by the willow bark to contemplate mischief. Shushing her softly, Jacob tiptoed closer and lifted the corner of the blanket to fold it more securely over the wizard's shoulder.
"Kid, you're gonna have a nasty headache when you wake up," he murmured.
He should probably wake him. There was no telling if the antidote had been enough to counteract whatever was in that tea. Bill would've said something about checking vitals every hour or so if he'd been here. But Newt was sleeping for once; not lying wide awake, staring at the wall as he remapped the battle with Grindelwald and wondered what he should have done; not pouring over old parchments to find the link to end someone else's war; not lunging to his feet after a nightmare corrupted what little rest he could find. No. Whatever toxins had wrecked havoc in his system, the young wizard was adamant that he had solved the problem, and Jacob chose to believe him.
The foremost danger was past. Everything else could all wait until morning.