Author's Note: Written for Finals Round 1 of the QLFC
Team: Pride of Portree
Position: Chaser 2
Chaser 2: Write about someone who visits Knockturn Alley often.
Prompts Used: 3. (quote) "Now that was an awfully big threat." - Once Upon A Time; 5. (dialogue) "If you leave now, you get nothing."; 6. (image) art/A-family-of-folded-dragons-24110210 .
Word Count (excluding Author's Note): 2,169
Curiosity Killed Our Friendship
Late in the year of 1912:
Leta Lestrange didn't hesitate as she used the dense fog as a cloak to disguise her venture into Knockturn Alley. It wasn't her first time into the dank and unlit alley that proper, upright magical persons stayed away from or feared to tread.
Leta was not fearful of anything, and unlike her fraternal cousin, Rupert, she lived to push boundaries. If the twentieth century was going to be anything like it promised it would be, then outdated society standards of Queen Victoria and her ilk had to be expanded, or even broken completely.
Newt had even accused her of being a suffragist—not in any condescending sense, Newt was never condescending to anyone, least of all her—which, after some thought, Leta had to agree with. She was a suffragist, but unlike her sainted mother her activist roles did not stop at gender. She continued being a vocal supporter of rights for magical creature, as well. Of course, these rights were not to include the right to vote (that would be rather silly) but for fairer breeding and handling laws.
It was something both young teenagers believed in, and thus, how Newt had gotten his silly (and yes, demeaning) moniker of "Newton Suffragette" from his older brother, Theseus. A moniker that had resulted in several fights, both verbal and physical, between the Scamander brothers. Leta only wished that with the start of the new year and term, and with the shadow of Theseus's NEWTs looming, that they had seen the last of their constant quarrels. After all, it really limited her time handling creatures when her assigned partner was indisposed in the hospital ward.
Thankfully, this was not her first, second, or even third visit into Knockturn Alley, for if it were she surely would have missed the small and overly cluttered shop that was her destination due to the heavy fog.
The tiny tingle of the misshapen, tarnished bell above the door notified Mister Niles, an old and weathered hag-like wizard, that some unfortunate soul had entered his dark, dust-ridden domain.
When Leta was greeted with a harsh cackle-turned-cough she didn't flinch or immediately flee back towards the door; she knew that this was Niles' usual greeting for everyone that dared crossed his threshold.
"You again?"
Leta smirked. "I haven't been here since August. I take it business hasn't improved?"
Niles issued another cackle-cough. "I'm not here for the glamor of private commerce, young lady, but for the pleasure of torment and trade."
Leta's smirk brightened into a sly grin. "Torment from curios? Surely not. They are but curious paperweights or high tea conversation starters."
"Anything infused with Dark enchantments and magic do hold dangerous—" he paused, his sharp green eyes watching as Leta picked up an empty snow globe, clearly mesmerized, before he summoned it away from her. "—traits."
"Traits?" Her eyebrows rose. "Are you implying that these artifacts are somehow alive and share some of our characteristics?"
"They are imbued with whatever traits their previous or first owners possessed upon the time of their bewitching." Niles' arthritis-crippled hand held the snow globe high in front of him. "This one here is particularly cruel. It shows you the location of your 'heart's desire' but after its revelation you are left always uncertain and jealous of your paramour; its toxicity of doubt is its trait."
Leta came closer to the counter and the snowglobe. Her fingers itched to shake the globe and see what it would show her. She did not 'desire' anyone romantically per-se (Theseus did not count as she was sure that her sudden attraction to her friend's surprisingly powerful brother was only a fleeting fancy), but the possibility that it would show her the location of her familiar—her real heart's desire—was so enticing.
Niles smirked. "So even now, with one so young, it calls. Fascinating." He sent it back to its place upon the shelf, where it stood nestled between two dull and heavily tarnished brass bookends depicting a goblin and his stolen treasure. "Now, what curiosity do you seek today?"
"A gift." Leta reluctantly returned her attention from the snow globe to Niles. "For my close friend, Newt."
"One of my Dark Curios?" He chuckled. "This isn't one of those Diagon Alley gift shops," he stopped as his pocket watched chimed five o'clock, "but if you leave now, you get nothing for your friend. Wait here."
Leta offered a genuine smile of gratitude as the elderly wizard shuffled into the back room to fetch her some curio he deemed safe.
Covertly glancing behind her to the snow globe, she decided the risk was well worth it and quickly went to it.
It seemed heavier than it was before. More substantial. More real. Shaking it vigorously until every particle of fake snow danced in the confined whirlpool sheathed inside the crystal dome she grasped tightly to her, fervently peering into its hidden depths.
Nothing.
Disappointment flared through her. She kicked herself for believing Niles about this globe.
Just as she was moving to return it, something in the corner sparkled and caught her eye. Bringing it closer, she could barely make out a small cottage trimmed with garland and an evergreen wreath upon the sturdy old door. She had seen—been to—that cottage before.
A furry animal burst through a pile of snow, its dark fur glistening from the moisture of melted snow, carrying its prey.
Leta's heart skipped. It had worked!
This jarvey—for she recognized it now as it ambled out of the tiny front garden of the snow covered cottage—was her familiar.
Pleased beyond reason she hurriedly returned the snow globe and made it back to the counter before Niles reemerged with a floating parcel following behind him.
"You and your Newt like creatures? Dragons?" Upon Leta's nods he relaxed and brought the parcel down to her. "Seventy-seven Sickles."
Leta frowned but didn't argue or tried to haggle the price to a more reasonable one. She could afford to spend nearly five Galleons on Newt, and even though she had not seen what type of curio Niles had selected she could feel the gentle hum of magic radiate from the plainly wrapped parcel and intrinsically knew it would be perfect.
After all, Caveat Emptor Curios was the best curio driven store in Knockturn Alley, and she knew that Niles did not barter with money. (Bartering with another curio? Sure, he even seemed to thrive on those transactions, but monetary bartering was akin to a vile insult to him.) She had witnessed one poor witch try to haggle and be banished from the shop—forcefully. Arthritis had not crippled this Dark wizard's magic like it had his fingers and body, not with his strong affinity towards wandless magic.
Newt rushed out of the modest room he shared with his brother into the front room by the fireplace. The notification chimes were still alerting that someone was seeking admittance.
It had to be Leta and Mrs Lestrange, who always acted as her daughter's chaperone, coming to wish the Scamander family a Happy Yuletide.
The short letter he had received from Leta that morning had spurred his curiosity and wishful thoughts on to new heights. She was coming over to exchange gifts, nothing too odd there, true, but her cryptic post-script about finally finding "it" and "knowing her heart" had caused him to wonder what she meant. One part—a well hidden portion of his psyche—had immediately concluded that this was it, that Leta had realized that he was a suitable prospective caller. That she would be open to him courting her, and maybe one day after their graduation, she would also be acceptable to him pledging his troth to her.
After all, they were a perfect match—their twin wands proved as much.
Sure enough, through the haze of soot stood Leta and her aristocratic yet petite mother.
Mrs Scamander greeted her guests warmly and exchanged the customary niceties with Mrs Lestrange as their children went into the foyer to chat and, no doubt, shyly flirt. (She had caught her Newton wistfully pinning and catering to Leta too many times for it not to be anything but attraction, though as she had feared, it was solely Newt who craved more than friendship out of their relationship.)
"Merry Christmas!" Leta declared joyfully as she handed over her gift.
"It's lovely." Newt smiled as he untied the twine, stopping himself before lifting the lid. He had forgotten his present for her!
"Won't be but a moment." He dashed to his room. How had he forgotten to bring her gift? A proper boyfriend would never do that.
Leta chuckled. It was so like Newt to forget her gift.
The front door opened, bringing in a cold chill into the small foyer and with it Theseus, dusted with snow from his hat to his boots and an equally snow-encrusted tree. It was like seeing a living, illustrated Christmas card.
"Lestrange," he grunted as he maneuvered the tree into a waiting stand by the window. "You staying for supper?"
Leta had been about to say yes when Newt answered with a strong "NO!"
"We're just exchanging gifts and chatting for awhile." He further explained as he handed Leta a small box tied with a silver colored bow.
Leta frowned but stayed silent. She had seen too many 'brotherly' feuds between the two Hufflepuffs to know that it was better not to take any sides.
So, instead she focused on opening her gift: removing the ribbon, opening the box, and moving tissue paper aside to reveal a finely carved music box compete with a dancing, twirling dragon.
It was ideal. Perfect.
"Now that was an awfully big threat, Newton."
Leta looked up, startled. She had momentarily forgotten about the tense air between Newt and his brother.
"Not a threat but a promise."
Leta lowered her gift. She had clearly missed something important.
The air around them crackled and hissed with suppressed magic and rage.
"Theseus do come in and say hello to our guest." Mrs Scamander politely called from the other room. Her voice working as a magical balm quickly defusing the situation. "We can decorate the tree later."
Leta watched as Theseus left the foyer and into the front room. He was a powerful wizard but unlike his brother he was very emotionally driven.
She really needed to rid herself of her silly attraction to Theseus and sooner rather than later.
Turning back to Newt she saw that he had opened his gift and whatever was inside had captivated him. Taking a step closer she finally saw what held him bewitched. Nestled betwixt some newsprint was a family of dragons carefully folded and molded into shape but unlike the oriental art form that favored paper these were all forged, delicate porcelain.
"Leta," Newt whispered reverently as he gingerly picked one up and held it. The reflecting candlelight that danced upon it cast a yellow-orange-ish hue that strongly reminded them both of fire. "I—I," he took a breath and pressed on, "it's just what I wanted—even though I didn't know it until now." His eyes searched hers, "Thank you."
"I got them due to our cores. Since our wands come from the same dragon's heart and all." She lied but smiled. A warm, genuine one that he readily returned.
"So, what is this bit about finding something?" He asked, after they had placed his—their?—folded dragons upon an empty shelf over the door, both youths pleased that the dragons were overseeing the room and by extension the Scamander house.
"I found my familiar," she excitedly whispered, not wanting her mother to overhear her. Another lecture on the unbecoming and unladylike fascination of creatures was something she did not want to be forced to endure again.
"Oh." Newt's disappointment flickered across his eyes before he quickly squashed it before he donned his usual carefree demeanor like a cloak.
"Newt—"
"What type of creature is your familiar? I bet it's something crafty like a niffler."
"No, but close."
"Close?"
"A jarvey."
Newt stared at Leta.
"I understand that they are not the most desirable creatures but I'm sure my familiar will act with restraint. If not, I'll make sure it does with magical encouragement." Leta recited her rehearsed reasoning. She hoped that Newt missed her crossing her fingers behind her back. She always wanted a familiar and now she knew what creature it was, even though she still hadn't discovered exactly where it was—she would soon.
Newt frowned and shook his head. He had a strong presage about this jarvey business but... if it was what Leta truly wanted then he would help her.
For her, for his Leta, he would even take up Dante's mantle and journey through whatever horrors and difficulties the afterlife boasted to get to her side and be with her forever. Like Dante had for his Beatrice.
Although, he could not shake the feeling that they had just entered through the gates, past its famous inscription, and was about to cross Acheron without the Roman poet as a guide.
Fini
Author's Note 2: Major thanks to my awesome teammates Sarah and Oni for their awesome beta work.
