Little Badger


Newt leads Leta across the slightly marshy ground behind the Herbology greenhouses, buckets of flubberworms in hand, wisps of cold breath leaving their parted lips and curling up into the cold air like dragon's smoke. They walk in silence, although Newt is certain Leta is as excited to see what he is keeping so secret, as he is to show it to her. They reach the edge of the forest before long, and Newt turns directly towards a large oak tree, slowing down as he does so, and gesturing back with his hand for Leta to do the same. She slows behind him, until her body is close enough to his that he feels the warmth radiate from her. He swallows down a blush as best he can, before rounding to the opposite side of the tree, hidden from view of the grounds, to a hollowed out centre, covered by sprawling bramble and thorns. He sets the bucket down on the sodden ground, and Leta does the same, watching in rapt fascination as he leans forth and with one hand gently moves the brambles and thorns so they reveal what is hiding inside the tree.

"Now, she's not used to strangers, so you'll have to stay behind me," Newt manages, his confidence slightly raised due to his giddy delight at being so close to the beast. "She's still getting used to me, but that's alright. Don't want her too dependent or she'll never be able to free again."

He removes his glove as Leta strains to see anything hiding among the tear shaped nest of moss and twigs, and she watches Newt lift a handful of the worms and slowly extend his hand into the nest.

A small head perks up, a brown beak speckled with green and brilliantly bright eyes blink to see Newt. The beak snatches the worms greedily, before the small bird pulls itself from its comfortable spot of camouflage to gorge on the things. Leta gasps as she sees the emerald plumage beginning to sprout upon the birds head, the short tail feathers which she knows are months away from developing into a grand sweeping clump of vivid greens. Newt picks up a handful of the worms and nudges Leta with his elbow to grasp her attention. She glances at him, lost for words, and takes the worms he offers her in the palm of her hands. Carefully, she imitates his movements and dangles them just above the little bird's head, feeding them to it as slowly as it will allow her. A low, dulcet, throb of a cry emits from the little bird, in delight. Leta's face lights up once more with that brilliant smile, and Newt can't help but glance away from his prize for one moment to see it.

"That's an augurey, isn't it? Is it a baby?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. Newt decides he prefers her voice this way, rather than boisterous and loud, and he grins in response to the calm he feels wash over him. Creatures have this effect on people, this soothing feeling that washes over him.

"She's not quite a chick, but not quite a grown up. It's unusual for augureys to lay eggs this time of year, so I suspect the centaurs in the forest must have killed her mother for meat, thinking they were safe in the knowledge she would have no offspring to support. I found Selphie alone and hungry when I was out looking for bowtruckles at the end of last month. So I built her this nest and I've been feeding her since…"

He trails off and Leta looks at him with a mask of shock upon her face. She giggles softly, distracting the bird with more worms.

"I don't know what to be more shocked about," she says finally, as Newt glances at her. "The fact you named this augurey 'Selphie', the fact that you've kept it alive on your own for a month, or the sheer amount you just spoke. I don't think anyone's ever heard you talk so much Newt!"

Newt allows himself a tight laugh and nods his head.

"All valid, I suppose," he says, as Selphie finishes her worms and headbutts his hand rather brusquely. She nips him with her beak to which he doesn't even flinch and Leta watches with amazement.

"You've had enough, you greedy girl. I want you to be able to fly, not fall to the ground from being so fat," he laughs, allowing her to nip him some more before scratching the tiny plumage on her head. Leta watches, dumbstruck.

"You have quite a gift, Newt."

Her words are almost reverent and he blushes, shaking his head.

"No, no… not a gift. I just accord them the same respect I would expect from anyone else," he says quietly, going to fluff some of the feathers in Selphie's nest up a bit. Leta watches him questioningly.

"Yet you receive so little respect from your own kind."

Newt's lips twist into an uncomfortable smile and he bashfully shrugs his shoulders.

"Many humans believe they are above all else – even other humans. That's why I prefer my creatures. If you give the right kind of creature the right kind of respect, they'll never throw it back in your face."

Leta watches the strange little Hufflepuff boy carefully, nodding as she does. Suddenly, a thought comes to her, sending slight panic to arise within her. Newt seems to notice, glancing sideways.

"I've just remembered – when augureys cry, isn't someone supposed to die?!"

Newt laughs at that, a proper little chortle, and scratches the back of his head as Selphie quirks her own little head with curiosity.

"Well I've spent a lot of time out here with Selphie crying for her mother and I haven't died yet. Contrary to that superstition, I believe that augureys in fact only cry when – "

Before he can finish his sentence, Selphie sits straight up and lets out a long, low, throbbing cry, mournful and slow, before seconds later, a clap of thunder rings out and a fat raindrop falls on Leta's nose. Newt grins at Selphie before looking once more at Leta, this time not shying from direct eye contact with her, utterly in his element.

"When it's about to rain."

After hastily covering up her nest and assuring he would return tomorrow with more food, Newt throws his scarf over his head and motions to Leta to follow him back across the marshy grass to the greenhouses. Leta laughs and throws her scarf over her own head, before snatching Newt's hand up tight and tugging him along behind her, scarves doing little to protect them from the sudden downpour. By the time they reach the greenhouses, they are soaked through to the bone, and Leta is laughing hysterically.

"I can't believe it – I can't believe it! You rescued an augurey and you've been keeping it alive and your basically it's mother!"

"Her," Newt amends softly. "Selphie is a 'she' not an 'it'."

Leta waves her hand as though she was batting his comment away, but smiles again, capturing all his attention and shyness at once.

"Still, it's so impressive Newt! Please let me come and help you feed her again?"

Newt knows that he should refuse, that having Leta tag along is conspicuous as she is loud and vivid. He opens his mouth to do so, but finds he can't get the words out, as Leta clasps her hands pleadingly together. He frowns before bobbing his head in a short nod, to which Leta squeals in delight and throws her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

"Oh thank you, thank you, thank you Newt! Oh I can't wait, I'll even read up a bit on them so I know more about how to act around it! Shall we meet here tomorrow again then?"

She says all this so fast, without taking a breath and Newt is taken aback for a moment.

Did this girl – this beautiful, interesting, bright girl honestly want to be his friend?

"That sounds just fine," he replies, his voice hoarse.

She reaches down and squeezes his hand, with another squeal of delight, before shaking some of the rain droplets from her head so they land on his own. She giggles, and turns to leave before turning back and eyeing him carefully.

"I'll go back to the castle first. Wouldn't want people seeing us together, now would we?"

With that she is gone in a flutter of clinking silver and green and Newt is left alone in the greenhouse, soaking wet and slightly breathless.

As he goes to collect his bag and penknife, he mulls over her last statement.

She must have meant that she didn't want people seeing them together to avoid suspicion of what they were doing in the greenhouse.

Newt smiles softly to himself.

Yes, that must be it.


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