Thanks to all the guests and users that have left such lovely reviews! I'll answer each one of you down below.

This chapter is quite a bit shorter, and that's completely my fault. I'll try to make the next one longer but we'll see how it goes.

TRIGGER WARNING: abuse.

As soon as they walked out of the shop, Newt knew that it was not going to be okay. The signals his mother were sending out were furtive and wary, furious and personal. No one would come close to someone they didn't know well in that state.

His tawny hair rustled in a faint breeze as he twisted around for a second. Newt had only just noticed that none of his newly-bought belongings were trailing behind them. His mother had likely already sent them back to the house. It was good planning on her part, he supposed. Preparing the new equipments' travel back gave her a valid reason for leaving him alone in the shop with that retched wand.

Newt had no qualms about blaming his mother for the terrible thing; she would have been the one to send it there and she would have known what it would do to him. Newt had always reacted badly or had bad experiences in the past with fragments of bone from beasts lying around the house, with their heads lining the hallways in the manor, with the beasts his father had brought home to experiment on. Each time he'd touched or even been near them he had got a terrible headache at best.

He'd retched when he had to touch some of them. None of the beasts his father had caught and killed had died peacefully. It seemed that the ones that had been sacrificed for the gruesome power of the wand that had been made for him had died worse than most of the beasts lining his house. Combined they had made him good for nothing but screaming, a purely physical reaction to his pain. Each one by itself would probably have made him sick. Combining the agony had made it so strong Newt couldn't even do that. If the old man hadn't been there… he wouldn't even spectate on that thought. It was too awful to think upon.

He couldn't believe that so many beasts had suffered uselessly for him. If he could use the wand then it would have at least been for a cause but instead that integrated pain would have been caused for nothing and those poor beasts would be dead or maimed uselessly. It almost inspired him to turn back into the shop and say that he would have the wand, no matter how awful it was.

But he couldn't, he knew that. He knew that he could never would it. Newt Scamander would never hold anything that would cause pain to another beast in his life unless it was impossible or would cause worse events to happen if he did not.

"I swear so," he whispered gently. His mother didn't notice but the vow was heard all the same and was acknowledged by the realm of Magic. If Newt could feel the tremors through the earth, the excitement that befell all the creatures he would he delighted. Instead he could only think upon his life.

Worrying only makes the pain double, he remembered. He couldn't remember who had told him that, it was too far gone and he'd paid little notice at the time but the motto had stayed with him. Worrying about what might happen or what had happened or even what was happening that second would only increase the pain if it turned out badly. You had to live in the moment. So Newt did so.

Ollivander's was becoming more and more distant and he wished himself back there. The rich black paint covering the little shop was a sharp contrast to the white-painted name on its front and sign. It was a respectable establishment, and Newt was sure he'd be happier living there than at home. He was also sure that he'd be allowed to, if not by his mother then at least by Ollivander and he was who counted.

It would never happen though, Newt knew that. He'd thought about running away so many times before that he couldn't help but know when a plan was doomed to fail. This was one of those times.

Living at Ollivander's would never work for a numerous about of reasons and Newt carefully listed them as he was dragged along the streets of Diagon Alley.

Firstly, too many people knew him if not by sight then by name. His mother would never let him go and he'd be caught very quickly and be back in a worse situation than before. Secondly, he'd have to train to be a wand maker with Ollivander. Newt wouldn't be able to deal with the pain emitting from some of the wands and would protest against the usage of all beasts that had died for them. He wouldn't sell, or even buy wands made from pain-filled products.

Thirdly he needed an education. He'd have to go to Hogwarts no matter what and he'd live there as much as possible anyway so what would be the point of running away now. All of his new equipment was at his house, and his new wand would be sent to Hogwarts to await his arrival. There would be no point.

The benefits to running away were few and weak compared to his reasons not to. He would be happier there but he would be at Hogwarts most of the year anyway. He would be safe but, again, he would love at Hogwarts mostly anyway and when his mother finally found where he was hiding he'd cause the old man trouble as well as finally eliciting a beating from his mother herself.

There was no point.

Newt's mother sported carefully manicured nails that she had charmed to be hard and versatile. They were painted a pale rose at the moment and matched the bleached olive of his skin tone as it lost circulation to the wrist. The nails seemed almost like an extension if his body as they rose out of it, providing a sharp relief to the ricocheting around his skull that the pain-filled voices had caused, and leaving marks that would stay for days. The tiny half-moons were likely already bleeding; Newt would be surprised if they didn't scar from what he could feel.

He hadn't noticed the screams still inside his skull until leaving the shop because it had been oddly quiet inside and the old man hadn't sported more than a gentle, calming tone. His mother wasn't speaking right now but the force of her anger was pulsing out at Newt in waves that were making him stumble.

Good thing the streets are so well kept, Newt thought. The clean flagstones and polished brick of the passageways he was being dragged down nearly reflected his image back at him. The ebony bricks actually did, though in a distorted manner.

He could tell where they were going now. Only one thing was down this passage, the fastest way home. Floo powder fireplaces. He wouldn't be getting that ice cream that his mother had suggested then, and he supposed he'd get something worse instead.

"Go!" Mrs Scamander snapped at her son as he hesitated. Newt knew that as soon as they were home he'd be in for the worst scolding of his life. He didn't want to go. He had to. He had to go first too, as his mother was indicating. She was probably concerned he'd run off if she went through first. She was right, he would have tried if he'd had the chance, but that plan had failed before it began, so Newt resolved to try and get away from her inside as soon as he stepped through and into the house.

His plan would have worked if it weren't for Mrs Scamander stepping through the fire almost an instant after Newt was gone and following him.

Newt's mother's neatly woven features were being pulled together by harsh lines on her brow and around her mouth. He expression transformed from mildly disapproving into thunderous rage as she appeared and Newt couldn't help but flinch as she reached for him.

It was probably the worst thing he could've done.

"Flinch?" She looked utterly despised. "Flinch? At me? Your own mother?" Her face transformed from carefully arranged features into a mess of pale blotches and freckles.

"You impertinent little freak." Newt restrained himself from cowering but couldn't look at her either. The berating was too much like what he'd got from his father.

Her next words stopped his heart, but he couldn't decided whether they were good or bad.

"Don't come back unless you have to, you hear me? Send me affirmation forms and tell me how your grades are. Don't be a failure. You will do well or you will come home. Is that clear?"

Newt nodded quickly.

"Of course, Mother." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, already picking up on the tricks that beasts knew like avoiding direct eye contact. That provoked challenge, and Newt isn't a challenger. He's polite as well. If his mother were a Hippogriff he'd be bowing and backing away. As it was, Newt was going to wait here until she dismissed him or left. The knowledge of what his father had done to him would always be fresh in his mind, and Newt wasn't certain he would be able to handle his mother becoming abusive as well.

"If something goes wrong, anything at all, you'll be returning. Appearances are everything, Newton, and if you can't put up a respectable façade I will do something about it."

"I will do my best, Mother." Her face became a mask again and he closed his eyes, certain he had said something wrong. Maybe his tone of voice was off? Instead he heard a brief tapping as she walked away on high black heels, her long coat sweeping behind her to give the shining wooden floor an extra polish.

Once she was gone Newt sighed in relief. His whole body relaxed from the stiff, upright posture he adapted into around his parents- parent now. He would never feel his father's blows again, and his mother had not hit him yet. Maybe he was finally free.

Newt's grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. Maybe he'd finally be away from all the pain and harassment, maybe his inner self loathing would finally go! He tipped his head back and spun around at the feeling of euphoria. Maybe- the tapping was returning and Newt lowered his arms as he hid his smile. When his mother finally walked back around the corner he had run and seated himself on one of the chaises lining the hallway. Dim chandeliers lent wan shadows to his face. It was easy to navigate by yet too dim to read by, just like the hostess wanted. Right now her masterful ploy was being used for the wrong thing. Instead of making visitors wait on her it was giving her son expressions he did not have because the shadows danced across his face wrong. Newt's mother became angry at him and her ire only rose when she saw he would not look at her properly.

"Stop it!" She hissed. "Stop doing that! Do you want people to assume you have problems?"

Newt tried to back away from her. In his experience a specimen as angry as this would rarely calm down and the best approach was to leave it for another day. Somehow the fact that this wasn't a specimen but his own mother got lost in the complexities of his terrified brain. The knowledge of just what she was was caught in its throes. His understanding that she would not agree with him backing off was ridden and overtaken by fear that she would hit him.

Mrs Scamander had never been one to bloody her hands.

The days when she had been purely kind had long since passed. Her husband had slowly wrangled each piece of goodness out of her and left them until they blackened, dead things that could act like her old shine but could never hold up for long. Her days as a Hufflepuff were distant memories, her love of Hippogriffs was was of the only things she retained from them. Her dislike of hurting people was another, but that only spread as far as not actively using her hands to hurt people now. Using her magic to do so was another matter entirely.

"Crucio." The pain was sudden and blinding. Newt didn't feel his legs give way, of the impact of the hard wooden floor. He didn't see the red light of his mother's wand, he didn't notice the horror in her eyes that stopped her from continuing the curse for more than half a minute. He didn't notice the horror hardening into hatred as the witch looked down on her son, a pain-wracked ball of terror, and wanted to spit on him.

"If you fail me in any way," she said slowly. "This will be your punishment."

Soo? Is it good enough? Unluckily I couldn't send it to a beta to check over so I hope it's alright!

Anyway, onto the replies. (Alhough I must say to all of you that when I got each and every one of these reviews I was so terrified. I had to compose myself before looking at each one just incase it was nasty but you have all been so supportive and kind so thank you all so, so much.

Guest- thank yoouuu!

Ice- yes, I can see that. That's actually a really good idea and I think I might use it later on. Maybe I can sort of redeem Theseus throughout Newt's time at school then then bam that shock onto him and send Newt running all the way to Africa or something. It could fit in.

Newt- thank you so much for your kind words.

not-leaving 394- ahh, thank you so much! I hope this chapter meets your expectations as well!

Magik458- I'm glad that I could write what you're looking for and that you think it could have a great plot line! If I do something that you feel is too off then don't hesitate to tell me!

jess chan- thank you! Yes, Leta will appear here at some point! And don't worry, your writing is perfectly fine and it's great that you know another language at all!

Guest- I're written more!

Guest- as you can probably tell, the answer to that is yes :)

Guest- aha, I am don't worry. I hope it continues to live up to your ideals!