For Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments)
Assignment #5
Careers Advice Task 1: Write about an individual that gets injured on his/her job. (Note. Be creative. Don't choose an Auror to be the one to get injured.)
Crystals and Gemstones Club
Expert: Write about a person or creature being captured against their will because of their beauty. (1,000 Min, No Max) - Due Date: 4th October 2017, 10:00pm (BST) (50 points)
Roald Dahl Event
Room 262 Unhuman resources - Write about a magical creature, beast or being. Anything that isn't human.
Showtime:
15. Ten Duel Commandments: (genre) Hurt/Comfort
of aching hearts and weariness
Newt groaned, the dull throb behind his eyes an unpleasant wake up call. The last thing he remembered was walking down a dark Brooklyn alley… and a flash of red spell fire. He forced his eyes open, squinting at his surroundings. He was in a cage, in the corner of a dark cave lit by gloomy torches that had been so poorly charmed they spluttered and spat. He shivered, the damp air chilling him to the bone, and wrinkled his nose at the stench of confined creatures, pungent and fetid.
With a wince, Newt tilted his head, and realised that he wasn't alone.
On the other side of the enclosure was a unicorn foal. Its eyes were dull, its golden coat failed to shimmer and was streaked with dust, and the tiny nub of a horn on its forehead had been cruelly sawed off. Newt's heart ached.
"Hey sweetheart," he murmured, and pushed himself to his hands and knees, no further. The unicorn had begun to shake, snorting with fear. Newt blinked, trying to clear his mind of the pain that blurred it.
"Oi!"
Both he and the unicorn flinched. Newt glanced through the metal bars to see a man approach. He was short, stout, bald, and had a greedy gleam in his eyes that made Newt shiver and look away. Newt had seen that look many times before, and every time it made him feel sick.
"Yer the creature guy, ain't yer?" the man growled.
"This is correct," Newt answered, and winced. The man snorted, and jabbed at him through the bars with his wand, hitting him with a stinging jinx.
"Well, fix it then," he said, and gestured to the unicorn. Newt stared back at him helplessly, leaning away from his wand.
"Fix it?"
"Yeh, that's wut you do, init? Fix it, an' she'll make a pretty penny on the market, ey?"
Newt turned away from the man, and eyed the unicorn foal, which had backed itself into a corner. Her eyes roamed wildly, and she was frothing at the mouth. Her colour had faded even more in that short amount of time.
"She's dying," Newt said quietly. "I can't fix her." He closed his eyes for a moment in sorrow, fists clenched, and blinked away tears. "Unicorns are wild animals – the wildest. They thrive in the most magical and untamed of forests, and were not made to be confined. I have never known one to survive captivity."
He opened his eyes, and fixed them upon the miserable excuse for a man before him. "Never."
The man's lip curled, and he glanced from Newt, to the unicorn, and back again. "Well," he said, dragging his fingers along his wand in a manner that was probably supposed to be frightening. If Newt's heart wasn't so broken for the for unicorn foal in the cell, perhaps he would have been.
"If yer don't fix 'er, yer ain't ever gettin' out of 'ere, gedit?"
"I understand," Newt said calmly, more so than he felt. He glanced about, and spotted his suitcase. With relief, he noted that despite evident attempts, the most recent spells he'd applied to the case had held out. At least he didn't have that to worry about.
The man stormed away to a corner of the cave, then disappeared out of sight. Against the walls, there were crates stacked up against each other, and occasionally, they shifted, as if whatever was in them was alive. Newt hated to think what else had been captured and stored here simply because they had some monetary value, either as something beautiful or as potions ingredients.
Newt drew his coat closer around himself, and checked the pockets. He was missing his wand, but inside there remained three things; a handkerchief, a piece of string, and an apple. Newt took the apple, and using the edge of one of the bars, sliced it into slivers. Then, slowly, he approached the foal, crawling on hands and knees. She whickered as he drew closer, struggling to get to her feet, but she was too tired to flee from him, her flanks heaving.
"Hey there," Newt soothed her, pausing every few paces. The stone floor scraped at his palms, and his knees ached on top of his prior pains. He blinked away a wave of dizziness. "Hey darling, it's alright. You'll be alright. How about a name then, hmm? Apricot? How about that, my dear?"
When he was within touching distance he stopped, and offered a slice of apple in the palm of his hand. Apricot snorted, but eventually lipped at it, then ate it up. She bit him afterward, when he wasn't fast enough to snatch his hand away, still woozy from the spells used to incapacitate him.
"Naughty," Newt chided, voice shaking with exhaustion. "Come on now, doesn't this apple taste much better than I do?"
He continued to feed her the apple, and mainly avoided getting bitten for his troubles. As she ate, he gently stroked her flank so that she would grow used to his presence, running it neck to rump.
Newt couldn't save her, but perhaps he could make her journey more peaceful. He settled himself against the bars as restfully as he could, and as his eyes drifted closed he settled a comforting hand on her side.
The sound of an explosion woke Newt from his daze. He immediately crouched, shielding Apricot from whatever danger they may be in. She stirred, anxious and huffing with alarm.
"Newt!"
He sagged with relief. "In here, Tina," he called, keeping his voice low so as not to frighten the foal.
Tina burst into the room, a team of Aurors behind her. "Check the crates," she snapped. "And if you don't know what to do with what's inside them, then read that damn book!"
"Yes ma'am," came the echo as the Aurors spread out and began to search through the contents of the cave.
Tina strode toward him, and hot on her heels was Percival Graves – the original, Newt presumed. All of a sudden, overwhelmed by their arrival and horror of being captured, Newt's eyes began prickling with tears.
"I can't save her," he whispered, and stroked Apricot, who blinked up at him. She butted him with her head, and then her muzzle drooped closer toward the floor. "Apricot, my darling."
He wiped angrily at his tears, distantly aware his cell had been opened. Apricot sighed, relaxing further under his hands and then – nothing.
Newt sobbed, once, clutching at her mane as his heart ached with anguish, and then gasped in a breath. "Where is he?" he rasped. "Where is he!"
Blindly, he pushed himself to his feet, and accepted his wand from Tina, shoving past her. He strode toward the entrance to the cave in a haze of anger. It wasn't fair! She hadn't deserved to die – none of them had. And that vile, disgusting man had been responsible.
"Scamander!" a low voice growled. Newt spun on one foot, wand raised.
It was Grindelwald – no – Graves, his expression sympathetic enough to make Newt hesitate.
"Come on, man," Graves said, and pulled him to one side. "Take a breath, and another."
Slowly Newt calmed. He stowed his wand, and rubbed at his eyes, which were surely red and wild.
"Damn it. Damn it!"
Graves' hands were on his shoulders, warm and secure. Newt was gripping at his wrists, but released them with the last of his anger. He shivered, miserable and weary.
"There you are," Graves murmured, voice soft. "There's the mild-mannered man Tina hasn't been able to shut up about."
Newt huffed a bitter laugh. "Not mild enough, apparently," he muttered, self-deprecating. His anger still burned in his veins, but it was cooling with every heartbeat.
Graves shook him, and Newt met his gaze for just a moment, before it slid away to settle on the other man's shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up, Scamander. It's an understandable reaction."
"I just wish…" Newt began, trailing off as he glanced toward the cage and Apricot's lifeless body.
Tina joined them, and settled a small hand, delicate in comparison to Graves', on his shoulder.
"I know, honey, and in a perfect world we'd be able to save them all. Just think about the ones that you have helped save, yeah - think of Frank?"
Newt smiled weakly at her. It wasn't enough, but it was something.
Word count: 1405
