AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hi guys!

So this was random, and it's 2am, and this is not a fandom I normally write for, and I just finished NaNoWriMo, and basically I don't know what I'm doing and this sentence is too long so I'm going to end it now.

My novel is still demanding attention, but I'm going to be trying and writing a little bit each night. We'll see how that goes.

Now, enjoy (if you want) some drabble-form, 5+1 form, reflection on the brotherly relationship between Newt and Theseus.

Warning: This was unplanned and random. I didn't know where it was going until it got there. Un-beta'd and un-edited. Has plot? Not much. Consider yourself warned.

-MyNightmaresAreMyDaydreams

DISCLAIMER: NONE OF THESE CHARACTERS BELONG TO ME. ALL RIGHTS TO J. K. ROWLING (OUR QUEEN) AND WARNER BROS

It starts when they are young, Newt thinks, much later, older, and, perchance, wiser. Perhaps that is why it feels like it has always been that way.

ONE

He was six.

Theseus was eight.

He was carefully 'tending' his creature, a poor Horklump that probably fared worse under his care than it did in the wild, even though he didn't realise it, caught in the fascination of this magical creature that made his eyes light up and a slow smile spread across his face.

Holed up in his room, door closed and the window open, light streaming in and the fresh breeze on his face making him feel like he was outside. He was happy there, small red-head tilted over the poor organism, alight in the wonder of the world. He had no care for the world of people and social interaction. To be frank, they terrified him.

He hated talking to people.

He was safer, happier, in his room with his little Horklump.

Then Theseus knocked. "Newt! Come and meet my friends. They don't believe that I have a little brother."

Newt dropped off his desk chair, much too large for him, and wandered over to the door. "Do I have to?"

Theseus sighed, exasperated. "Come on, Newt!"

He dragged Newt down the hall. Newt kept his eyes on the carpet, watching with interest as the intricate patterns of the hall melded and changed into the simplistic herald figure on the carpet in the parlour.

"My friends, this is my brother."

Theseus was speaking, Newt knew that much. He risked a glance up, and saw the five other boys Theseus' age grouped on one of the couches, all with grins on their faces. He looked back down to the carpet.

Carpet was interesting.

Carpet was safe.

On of the other boys was speaking. Theseus knocked Newt lightly on the back. "Hey!"

Newt mumbled something. He wasn't sure what.

Carpet.

Fascinating carpet.

The other boy raised his voice. This time, Newt heard it. "What's your name?"

Newt stared at the carpet, following it's twisting design.

Theseus elbowed him.

"Newt," he mumbled. "My name's Newt." He was talking to the carpet.

Why hadn't he noticed the carpet before? It was intricate. Distracting.

Theseus sighed. "He said his name is Newt."

There was a ripple of laughter, and Newt hunched his shoulders even further, wishing he was part of the carpet. That way, people wouldn't even notice him as they walked over him.

He could tell his older brother was scowling at his friends. "It's short for Newton. He doesn't like the full name, but I think the nickname is worse."

Newt thought, distantly, that he disagrees. Newts were fascinating creatures, even though they were non-magical. They were closely related to salamanders, which were magical. That was close enough. And besides, newts were creatures. Better than humans, any day.

Theseus released Newt, and he turned and wandered back to his room. As he left, he heard one of the other boys speaking.

"My god! Is he daft?"

Theseus' voice raised in denial. "He's not. Just… doesn't like people."

"Weird."

"Do you think he will turn out to be a squib?"

Newt blocked out the conversation and turned to his Horklump, only to find it was dead. He cradled it for a moment, wondering when he had gone wrong with his care. It was sad, he thought, that anything living had to die.

He split the Horklump up, an imprecise dissection that would have made an older Newt ashamed.

On a scrap of parchment, he drew pictures of what he saw, messy scribbling with notes in the corner of what he thought it all meant.

In the parlour, Theseus was laughing with his friends, safely away from the topic of his brother.

TWO

Growing up, Newt is forced to attend several balls and galas that the Scamander family was invited too.

His parents would enter first, "Mr and Mrs Scamander!" sounding through the room as they were announced.

Then his brother, "Theseus Scamander, firstborn son of the Scamanders,"

And then him. "And his younger brother."

Then, he would stand awkwardly at the edges of the room, fending off curious inquiries from people who didn't know his name.

Once, when he was thirteen, a group of giggling girls converged on him, dressed in floor-length dresses, and perfume that made his head spin.

Newt looked to the carpet.

"Hi!" one of the girls said, high-pitched and lilting. She tilted her head and batted her eyelashes.

Newt glanced up briefly, bewildered and lost in this world of social cues he was somehow meant to understand. "Umm. Hello."

He glanced back down at the carpet, and barely stopped himself from flinching when the girl laid a hand on his arm. "So, you're Theseus Scamander. Do you mind if I call you Theseus?"

Newt did look up then, and stepped backwards, awkwardly colliding with a stone pillar. "Umm. Sorry. I… I think there's been a little confusion. I… I'm not Theseus. I'm his… his brother."

"Oh," said the girl.

Behind her, one girl whispered to another. "I didn't know Theseus had a brother! Do you know his name?"

There was a minute shake of a head.

The girl looking for Theseus blushed a little under her make up. She quickly retracted her hand. "Oh, my apologies. We'll be off then."

It was a shame, Newt thought, that people didn't even bother to ask for his name, or pretend that they were vaguely interested in him. At least he didn't have to pretend to be interested in talking to them.

Merlin, he wished Leta was there. Then he would have someone to talk to, someone who knew him and wouldn't mind discussing the injured Kappa he had found last week, or the Hippogriff foal his mother was letting him help raise.

As the group of girls walked away, one threw back a goodbye that hurt more than it should have. "Goodbye, Theseus' little brother!"

Newt barely noticed, studying the carpet.

THREE

When Tina dragged him into MACUSA and (accidentally) in front of all the international representatives, Newt wasn't surprised that none of them recognised him.

There was a murmur he caught, a brief "is that Theseus Scamander, the war hero?"

He also heard the denial. "No, it's his little brother."

He didn't mind, really.

It just would have been funny if he had been mistaken for Theseus, if his older brother was suddenly doubted by so many people because of something Newt had done in America.

It was just a little annoying that they didn't know his name.

FOUR

When the book first appeared on the shelves, Newt was questioned by the press.

He hated the press, honestly. Too many people, too loud, no carpet for him to stare at. But this, this was for his creatures. He could do anything for them, anything for his book.

He'd never really known what it was like to not be under Theseus' shadow.

It was always a question he was asked, too. "Your brother is Theseus Scamander?" "Does your brother share your interest in magical creature?" "What does your brother think about the book?"

It honestly shocked him the first time it didn't happen.

It was a new group of press, for the American release.

The reported, a mousy-haired short man holding a Quick-Quotes quill, raised his hand and asked "Which is your favourite creature?"

The questions streamed in after that, in a whirlwind of "When did you first get interested in magical creatures?" and "What do you think of the US animal laws?"

It was only later, when he was collapsing into his bed, exhausted after feeding the creatures, that he realised that there hadn't been a single question about Theseus.

Newt smiled, freckles lifting at the corner of his mouth.

"I like America," he whispered into the night, before falling into a deep, exhausted sleep.

FIVE

When he finally had his book published, people began to recognise him.

Within the space of weeks, he went from "Theseus Scamander's little brother," to "Theseus Scamander's brother, Newton Scamander, the magizoologist," to just plain "Newton Scamander, magizoologist."

He liked the last one the best.

That was him.

Magizoologist.

It seemed so fitting, a word that fit him, for once. A word that hadn't also been used to describe Theseus, but without the superlative that always accompanied comments about his brother.

No, this was just him.

Newt Scamander. Magizoologist.

He loved it even more when it was Tina saying his name.

"Newt," she would say, all hard and soft and true, and he could hardly believe that she would be interested in his creatures (and him).

His name on Tina's lips sounds better than his name on Leta's lips. With Leta, he had realised that there had always been poisoned undertones, "Newt, my friend."
And now, he knew that she was waiting to say "Newt, my fiancé's brother," and not "Newt, my childhood love friend."
That hurt, a little.

But it didn't matter much.

Not when Tina's eyes looked so much like a salamander.

He preferred to look at them than look at the carpet.

PLUS ONE

Theseus has grown used to his younger brother being exactly that; a younger brother, the footnote in a half-page about his childhood.

He didn't really expect Newt's career to take off like it did.

He didn't expect Newt, shy, awkward Newt, to be the more famous one, even in the higher circles he moved in, Leta at his side.

Theseus didn't begrudge him, much. He wouldn't want to be living Newt's life.

It just surprised him, that was all.

The first time it happened, he was joining a party for Newt's book's success. He was late, having had an important meeting with the Minister of Magic that he couldn't reschedule.

He had expected it to be a quiet affair, like his brother's birthdays were. If he was honest, he also expected that the party would only really start after he strode in.

Instead, he walked into a room filled with people dancing and laughing, filled with chatter and the chink of glasses and a communal glow that he, for once, wasn't part of.

And Newt wasn't hiding in the corner.

No, Newt was sitting at the head table, laughing loudly with a brunette woman to his right, and a hefty man to his left, and the delicate blonde sitting to his left. Their American accents were clear even across the room, and Newt wasn't looking at the carpet.

No, he was looking at them, like they were more of a family to him then Theseus had ever been.

Theseus felt a pang in his chest.

Dumbledore appeared beside him. (Dumbledore? Since when had Newt been on friendly terms with their old Hogwarts Professors?) "Aha!" he said, raising his voice so the whole room could hear.

"May I present the brother of our guest of honour, The-"

The rest of Theseus' name was cut off in the roar of applause and noise that had swelled once Dumbledore mentioned Newt.

The professor clapped Theseus on the back. "I'm sure he'll want to talk to you."

Looking at Newt, surrounded by his new family, Theseus wasn't sure how or why he would.

After all, when he had been the more successful one, he hadn't even known which continent Newt was on most of the time.

It was a surprise when Newt rose to his feet and beckoned him over.

"Theseus, I'd like you to meet my friends. This is Tina, Jacob, and Queenie, Tina's sister." They all smiled and waved, speaking their brief, American, hellos.

"Friends, I'd like you to meet Theseus. He works in the Ministry."

It seemed, then, that Newt understood that Theseus didn't really want to be known just as Newt's brother.

He wondered why he had never noticed the same about Newt. He was the one meant to be good at reading and understanding people.

Perhaps Newt's time with his creatures had taught him about how unsure and in pain beings behaved.

That night, Newt initiated a hug with Theseus for the second time ever.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hope you enjoyed!
As I said earlier, I'll be writing more from now on (hopefully), and maybe even some more for Fantastic Beasts.
Let me know what you think. I'd love to hear feedback, and your interpretation of the relationship between Theseus and Newt.

-MyNightmaresAreMyDaydreams