A/N: This is a little something I wrote back in 2013! Hope you enjoy.
The sign outside the Magical Menagerie said 'cruppies for sale.' Adorable creatures, similar to Jack Russell Terriers, rolled around in their chained pen. Happy yelps and barks joined in the melody of the other animals. Their pointed tails wagged as they turned somersaults, bouncing into the walls of their enclosure, their little claws tapping on the glass of the window. There were plenty of people pausing for a moment or two to watch the joyful little creatures, but nobody actually came in to inquire about them.
So Rolf left the six little cruppies to play on the newspaper and went back to restocking lizard clothing and owl pellets. Some wondered why he worked there - they thought that maybe it was because his grandfather was Newt Scamander and he wanted to follow in his footsteps of being an animal person. Some thought maybe he didn't want to follow, but felt obligated. They didn't know that it had nothing to do with his family. Rolf had just always felt more comfortable with animals. He felt awkward around people, boys and girls, and as though they would be laughing at him when they left. So he was quiet, unless he was singing to the birds in the shop.
"You have a lovely voice," came a dreamy voice from the other side of the store. For a moment Rolf thought he must be dreaming, or that one of the animals was speaking. He dropped the pink lizard dress he'd been about to hang up and walked, almost trance-like, toward the voice. He was assaulted by an acrid scent that reminded him of his mother, although he didn't know why.
"H-hello?" he said, turning the corner.
"Hello," said the voice again, and this time Rolf could see the creature it belonged to. She had waist length dirty-blonde hair, half of it braided into little braids and the other half left mussed. She had a red bottle in her hand. "I hope you don't mind," she said, looking from him to the bottle. Her eyes were luminous, brilliantly blue. They reminded Rolf of the crystals people purchased for the bottom of their aquariums.
"Don't-Ah, I don't know if I do or not," Rolf said, taking a few steps closer to this ethereal girl. "What am I meant to not mind?"
"I thought it'd be nice if you painted their toes," the girl said. "So I brought my nail polish. But you were so busy with the pellets it seemed a shame to bother you so I did it myself. I'm finishing now with Helena."
"Helena?"
"This is Helena," said the girl, lifting up one of the crup's paws. The cruppy's toenails were painted red. Rolf almost told her not to bother the crup, to leave it. He was defensive of animals. But the crup-Helena-seemed more than content to let this strange girl move her like a marionette. And then, as soon as Rolf had had the time to process this, she stood and started gathering the bottles of nail polish.
"Have you, uhm, named them all?" Rolf said, wondering if she was going to suddenly leave him so soon. The cruppies, too, seemed hesitant to let her go. They crowded at her feet and pawed at her pink, wrinkled trousers.
"Yes I have," she said. "That's Hedwig, and that's Stubby…" She named off all the crups, with such confidence that Rolf almost believed they'd been born with those names. He listened intently to her, that dreamy, musical voice calming in a way that no other person ever had. He didn't feel awkward or weird around her. There was something so reassuring in her oddness that he didn't want to pass by him.
"And-Your name?" he asked.
"Luna. Luna Lovegood. What's yours?"
With the way she had known the names of the crups, he thought she'd know his own as well. "Rolf Scamander," he said.
Her eyes, which had already seemed round as saucers before, only grew wider and brighter.
"Related to Newt Scamander?"
"The one and only. He's my grandfather."
"I'd like to meet him," said Luna. "I've always wanted to. I'm an explorer like he is."
"When you're not giving cruppies pedicures, I gather?"
"No," she laughed loudly, and he was surprised to hear such loudness out of her. "But all the other time."
Rolf wished he'd started exploring. He'd been telling himself he would. But if this young girl-well, a woman, she looked to be about twenty-was off and exploring, maybe he could do.
"If you tell me about your explorations," he said, easing his back against a display of cruppy toys, "I'll introduce you to my grandfather." He thought he was being smooth, but only an inch later the whole display had fallen apart. She laughed loudly, again, but helped him pick up every toy.