Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.

Written for World Cup, Prompt - Wondrous.

Beta'd by Jenny and Sam, who are both Angels.

Word Count - 958

Of Curiosity and Creatures

Charlie was curious.

Every day he passed the old house on his way to school, the derelict building standing exactly halfway between his home and his school. The other kids in the area avoided the house, apart from the occasional dare while playing knock-a-door-run.

Not that any of them actually ever worked up the courage to knock on the door. They often got as far as the large iron gates before they decided to nope out and slink back to the group with their tails between their legs and sheepish murmurs of cowardice dressed up in ego.

Charlie wanted to know who lived there. He wanted to know why it was so clearly not looked after when it was a beautiful old house. He wanted to know what it was that could be heard occasionally making clearly inhuman noises when he passed.

His mother told him not to be so nosy, of course.

"Leave poor Mr Scamander alone," she'd told him when he'd mentioned it to her. "The kids in this neighbourhood should know better than to bother him, old as he is."

Charlie had nodded and tucked into the sandwich she handed him before shouting at his twin brothers to behave themselves. Charlie had no idea what it was they were doing in the garden, but he had no doubt that the warning was warranted.

It was guaranteed that they were up to no good.

Still, despite his mother's warning not to go and knock on the door of the old house, Charlie's curiosity eventually got the best of him.

He slipped through the gates and walked up to the door one evening after school, using the heavy brass knocker to alert Mr Scamander to his presence.

The door swung open, and Charlie hesitantly stepped inside. When he didn't see anyone, he frowned.

"Hello?"

When there was no return greeting, Charlie tried calling again louder, stepping further into the house.

The door swung shut behind him, and he jumped, startled. He blinked against the darkness, turning to see if someone had come up behind him, only to find nobody there. When he turned back, he jumped again when he saw an old man leaning against the staircase wall, his arms crossed.

"Who are you?"

"Erm. Charlie."

The man snorted. "Helpful. What do you want?"

"I… I was curious," Charlie admitted, shuffling his foot against the dusty floor. "I've heard things… things that don't sound… human. I… I like animals."

The man stared at him for a moment before he stepped forward holding his hand out. "I'm Newt Scamander. Pleasure."

Charlie's eyes widened, but he shook the man's offered hand. "Charlie Weasley."

Newt nodded, staring at him for a long moment. "Come with me."

Charlie followed him through a door across the hallway and down some steps into a basement. He stopped on the bottom step, unable to believe his eyes.

"Is that… what is that?"

Newt smiled, his eyes lighting up. "This is Rhodes. He's a phoenix."

"A… how?"

"How are humans? How are any animals? He's beautiful, isn't he?"

Charlie nodded, speechless as the phoenix raised his wings, spreading his vibrant feathers for a moment before he settled, trilling cheerfully when Newt reached out a hand to stroke him.

"I thought… I thought phoenix's were a myth, like… dragons, or… sphinxes."

Newt grinned, a wide smile broken only by a single missing tooth. "There's a lot in the world thought to be mythical. Myths have to have a basis in fact though, don't they?"

Charlie nodded, still unable to take his eyes from Rhodes.

"I… do you think that means that dragons are a thing?"

Newt actually chuckled at him, nodding. "Of course."

"Have you… have you ever seen one?"

"A few," Newt murmured. "More than a few over the years. Do you like dragons?"

Charlie nodded fervently, his eyes alight. "Very much. Do you… would you tell me about them? Please? I've read everything I can find about them at the library, but… well. It's all based on fantasy. Nobody else believes that they've ever really existed."

"Dragons are beautiful creatures, to be treated with respect and admiration. Many mug- people believe them to be a fantasy because their minds can't cope with something so utterly wondrous."

Charlie's mobile phone bleeped in his pocket, and with an apologetic look at Newt, Charlie checked it, groaning when he saw it was his mother, demanding to know why he hadn't returned home after school.

"I… I have to go. My mum, she… well. Can I… is there any chance… I mean." Charlie cut himself off, shaking his head. "Is there any chance I could come back? Maybe tomorrow? To… to hear more. About dragons? And other… animals?"

"Creatures," Newt corrected softly. "And yes, you may return whenever you wish. I can see you share my admiration for those of fur and feather. It'd be my pleasure to tell you more about the glorious creatures of the world."

Charlie grinned widely. "Thank you, Mr Scamander. Thank you so much! Nobody will believe me when I -"

"You won't be able to tell anyone," Newt interrupted, his tone regretful. "But you'll find out about that in a few moments. Come, I'll walk you out."

They moved back up the stairs in silence, and with a quiet goodbye and another enthusiastic 'thank you,' Charlie left the house. As he stepped out of the gate, he felt a shiver run up his spine.

Charlie couldn't really remember much of the visit, but he had a very strong feeling that he was to return there the following day after school, and that he really, really wanted to.

He had an even stronger feeling that he would always be welcome at the old house.