Newt ushered me into his study, a bright, open room. Paintings of strange wild creatures hung on the walls; they prowled and stretched and slept in their frames. One of the Kneazles was curled comfortably in an armchair. All the windows were open, letting in a refreshing breeze which fluttered the papers on his desk.
Newt tottered past me, leaning on his stick, and reached for an ancient-looking, battered old briefcase on his desk. He placed it carefully on the floor.
"I'm glad you've come, Juliet. I have something which I think you may find very interesting!"
"What's in there?" I asked, curiously.
"Ah, now, it's best if I just show you. Easier than explaining! Quickly now, do follow me," he said, undoing the metal clasp.
I had no idea what he was talking about. "Follow you – where, sorry?"
Newt just chuckled and opened the briefcase, then, to my surprise, stepped straight into it and disappeared. I blinked. Some faint mutters and groans drifted upwards.
"Er – Newt? Are you okay?" I asked, alarmed, and quickly put my foot into the briefcase. After a short sinking feeling, I found myself gripping a rickety ladder in what seemed to be a darkened room.
"It's not far," Newt said below me, as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. "Come on down! Oh, I oughtn't to use this case anymore, really...the ladder is getting terribly difficult for my old bones...but it always did work terribly well. The best Expansion Charm I ever did..."
I looked down and, seeing it was indeed only a short ladder, jumped down to the floor, and looked around in astonishment. We seemed to have climbed down into a dim, muddy cavern, mostly empty, with a few scattered buckets and sacks, all empty. Yet beyond the cavern, through short twisting tunnels in every direction, I glimpsed whole other landscapes – plains, jungles, rocky mountains. I turned to look at Newt, who had a pleased twinkle in his eye.
"How..."
"This way!" he said cheerfully, pottering determinedly towards one of the tunnels. "You're in my old travelling case, child – it's been with me and Tina all over the world."
I followed him through the tunnel, squinting ahead – all I could see was bright white light.
"We rescued magical creatures, you see," Newt called over his shoulder. "Injured, in zoos, dying from loss of habitat, oh, all sorts – and helped them get well, and released them back to the wild wherever we could...here we are."
"Wow," I said, lost for words, as I emerged from the tunnel and suddenly found myself walking on white sand, in bright sunlight. I blinked and shielded my eyes, looking around me in amazement. I could have been on a Pacific island. Palm trees dotted the sand dunes, and a blue, blue sea stretched out in front of me – but not quite as far as I could see. In every direction but the one we'd come, a grey mist rolled, obscuring the edges of the landscape.
"Is this real?" I asked incredulously, reaching down to scoop up some sand. I marvelled as the warm grains trickled through my fingers. For a moment, I felt sure I was dreaming.
Newt laughed. "More or less. Probably less. Some of it is real, the basic elements – the sand, the salt water – they've been magically expanded – but the light and the warmth are charms. All the other habitats are made the same way...I spent a full year working on this after I left Hogwarts, and it set me up for my entire career! Couldn't have done without!"
"So – are there still creatures living here?" I asked, looking around. It was eerily quiet. The only sound was the lapping of the surf.
"Hardly," Newt replied, looking wistfully around. I could almost see the memories flitting behind his eyes...and wondered what creatures he was fondly remembering. "We have a similar set-up under the living room – you saw my last few creatures go down there, I think? Those are the ones we couldn't reintroduce to the wild, for various reasons...Rolf and Luna go on expeditions every five years or so, and when they do they borrow this briefcase, so I had to empty it. But for now at least, it's empty. Well, nearly empty. Now, could you perhaps give me a hand with this boat?"
A small rowboat lay on the sand nearby, and Newt tugged with difficulty on the rope, pulling it a little closer to the shoreline. "Er – where are we going?" I asked, as I took the rope and hauled the boat it to the edge of the water. "How big is this ocean?"
Newt's eyes crinkled in his familiar smile. "Smaller than it looks, dear child. Now, you'd best take off your shoes – no need to get them all wet – hmmm, now, do you think you could push the boat into the water with me in it, and then hop in after me?"
"I – yes, I expect so," I said, after a second's hesitation. I might as well trust the old wizard – he must know what he was doing. Telling myself this, I tugged off my shoes and rolled up my jeans. Newt climbed stiffly into the boat, and I leaned against it, pushing hard, until it slid into the warm water. Quickly, I jumped into the boat, and Newt pushed us away from the beach with a rickety old oar.
He started rowing with difficulty, breathing heavily, and, alarmed, I took the oars from him. "I can row – you just tell me where to go."
"Bless you, child," Newt said gratefully. "It gets harder every time. Just a little way out – it gets deeper rather suddenly."
I dipped the oars into the water and pulled. The boat was light and responsive, and we bobbed quickly out to sea, rocking gently. The water was crystal clear – I could see the white sand and rocks far below, and fronds of seaweed waving. The air smelled deliciously of salt, the tropical sun warmed my skin, and a faint, delicious breeze tickled my cheeks. Water from my erratic rowing splashed my fingers. It was utterly surreal. The upper world seemed miles away.
But the grey mist at the edge of the landscape was already a little closer, and I saw Newt was right – this strange landscape was smaller than it looked, and must be more than half illusion...
Newt was looking eagerly over the edge of the boat. "Nearly there," he said. "Stop when you see the coral below us."
I rowed a little further, and sure enough, way below, I began to see a vast coral structure – pure white, like a fantastic castle, with turrets and towers. I stopped rowing and shipped the oars.
"All dead, I'm afraid..." Newt said, sadly, gazing downwards. "Long dead, in fact."
"The coral?"
"Yes, I'm afraid so. See how white it is. It used to – oh! – almost breathe with colour. But it was sucked dry...by these little beauties! Just look!"
He pointed into the water, his face suddenly lit up with pure joy. I looked down and gasped.
A shoal of fish had suddenly swum into view, circling the boat, some looking up with mouths agape. There must have been several hundred...each about the size of my hand, they were without a doubt the most beautiful fish I had ever seen: their scales shimmered with a thousand ever-changing colours, their fins were an opalescent silver, and their eyes – I shivered. They weren't the cold, dead eyes of a trout or a salmon. They were intelligent, and alive.
"What are they?" I asked, unable to take my eyes off them.
Newt smiled.
"Those, my dear, are some of the rarest fish in the world..."
"And they're magic? Where did you get them? What do they do?"
"Ah, well, I got the first two in Papua New Guinea. They are coral guardians," Newt said. "In the wild, at least. They have what is known as a symbiotic relationship. They live in the coral, which is itself magic, of course –"
"Coral's magic?" I said, surprised. "Is it really?"
Newt chuckled. "Yes, indeed. Ground coral can be used in potions, although it's never gained great popularity as an ingredient in Europe. It has various useful properties. And these fish – they have a rather unusual diet. They don't eat the coral itself. Can you guess?"
I shook my head, wondering what he was getting at.
"They feed off its magic," Newt said softly, looking lovingly at the fish. "They nibble magic from the coral – the older magic – and in return, that keeps the coral healthy. Like – well, like pruning old leaves to allow younger leaves to grow. And when the coral is attacked, they ward off the attackers. Let me show you...this coral is dead now, but the instinct to protect it will still be very much active."
He pulled a small rock out of his pocket and dropped it into the water. It toppled swiftly down to the great white coral castle below us. Just before it landed on one of the bleached coral turrets, the nearest fish flicked round. A jet of white light shot from the fish, directly towards the falling stone –and a second later, the stone shattered into a mist of harmless sand which trickled, glinting, down to the bottom.
"That's pretty cool," I said, watching with admiration.
"Not something you see every day – a Reductor Curse performed by a fish!" Newt said, smiling. "These fish are the only known creatures aside from witches and wizards who actually perform magic, by means of spells and charms similar to our own. The number of wizard-like spells I have recorded them doing over the years, for different purposes, is quite astonishing. But you must be wondering why on earth I have dragged all the way over here, to look at some interesting fish?"
I laughed. "Well – yeah. I did wonder."
"Let me start at the beginning," Newt said, settling back in the rowboat. "Forty years ago – on my very last expedition - I was travelling alone in Papua New Guinea, as Tina was occupied at home. I was, in fact, exploring a small island just off Papua New Guinea's coast in search of Mackled Malaclaws, when to my surprise – as I had thought the place uninhabited – I stumbled across a native wizarding tribe. It appeared they had been cut off from the rest of the magical world for some time...They were not, luckily, hostile – but fascinated by me and my ways, which were incredibly strange to them. Our magic was very different. I was equally interested to find out about them, and hear what they could tell me about any magical creatures on the island... I stayed with them for a few weeks, and they told me all about their island – a fascinating place, rich in wildlife and equally rich in folklore."
I was completely riveted; Newt looked dreamy and absent, lost in the past.
"They told stories...some true, others pure fiction... And one such story was about a kind of magical fish which had once lived in the coral reefs offshore...a fish they called "Timichugu" which fed on magic, a fish which had not been seen for generations. "Timichugu", roughly translated, meant sea-wizard. Of course my interest was piqued. I borrowed a fishing boat, and travelled out to the coral reefs day after day. Again and again I dived, and searched – oh, it seemed like miles of reefs! – but for weeks, I had no luck. And then, at last – just as I was beginning to feel sure that the Timichugu were either extinct, or fictional, I came across a small shoal. I saw them in action, saw them performing spells – I couldn't believe my eyes! What wonderful creatures! I decided then to take two back home with me, male and female, along with a large amount of coral for them to live on. I intended not only to study them, but to breed a large shoal in a safe environment – more, I hoped, than would breed naturally in the wild where clearly they were struggling."
"Well, you've done very well," I said, looking at the huge shoal below me. "You've bred loads!"
"Quite so," Newt said, smiling. "But it has taken many, many years. I started out with only my two fish, Finley and Marissa...I studied their and their children's breeding patterns over many years, long after I was retired from my expeditions, and found that, unlike most fish, who produce many young, the Timichugu would produce just one or two eggs, which they nursed most tenderly, each year. This unusual habit may have been one of the reasons the species became so very rare..."
"So, it took forty years for this shoal to grow?" I asked, enormously impressed by Newt's dedication. "But – I don't get it –" I was growing more and more bewildered – "why are you showing them to me?"
"Well, I am coming to that," Newt said, "But first of all I need to let you into a little secret. Have you not wondered how the shoal is so healthy – so brimful of magic – when their food supply of coral is utterly dead? It died very suddenly – just last month – taking me completely by surprise. Coral regenerates its magic, as I've explained – but I have found out, now, that a reef of this size can't sustain so many hundreds of these little beauties. They are supposed to simply trim back the old magic, to make way for the new, but as the shoal grew and grew, and fought for food, they must have been forced to feed on deeper, younger magic. The coral's vital life-blood. And then, when I checked them last month, it was to find – to my absolute horror – the whole reef quite suddenly drained and dead, and the Timichugu already beginning to starve. Their colours were dull and faded, they were thin and insubstantial-looking – and from the reduced numbers I could see some must have already succumbed to hunger. I knew I had to get them to a food source as soon as possible."
I looked at the glimmering, colourful shoal of fish circling around and over the dead white coral. They were obviously thriving. "So - what did you do?"
"Well," Newt said. "Of course, I had always intended, when the shoal was large enough and I deemed my breeding programme successful, to tell dear Rolf and Luna about my little project and ask them to help release them back into the wild... to a big, living coral reef. But the fish were dying now – would there be time to find a suitably large, healthy coral reef and get them back? Or would all my beauties be lost? If the fish needed magic – well! after all, I had plenty of magic of my own. I wondered if it might give them – oh, just the boost they needed."
My mouth fell open. Shocked, I flinched back automatically from the fish below me. Suddenly they seemed less beautiful, more sinister, and their gaping, questing mouths horrified me. "You – you didn't!"
"I did. I was already too old and too useless, to go off on the expeditions I loved, and so, I plunged my hand into the water, wiggling my fingers until one of the fish came up from the deep to investigate – and it could certainly smell or sense the magic, because it began to suckle..."
I made a face. "Did it hurt?"
"Not a bit," said Newt, laughing. "They aren't taking anything physical, so I didn't feel a thing. But I made a mistake. It turned out, the fish could feed from a living, breathing being like myself far more easily than from the rock-hard coral – rather like drinking a – a delicious strawberry milkshake for breakfast instead of chewing its way through a stack of dry toast! The single Timichugu that was feeding on my magic grew rapidly far bigger than these you see now, larger than me in fact, and its colours flashed like – oh, like a thousand rainbows. Indescribable. Far more beautiful than these little ones are, now, even. I was so fascinated, I didn't pull my hand away. And before I knew it, that one hungry little fish had drained every last bit of my powers."
"No!"
"I was a little shocked, I admit, when I realised. I believe it could have taken much more – if the source were available. Who knows how large it would have become! And what about the other fish, still thin and hungry below me! But it was all right in the end... Have you ever tickled a trout, Juliet?"
"Um, no...what would I do that for?"
"Trout like to be tickled," said Newt calmly. "They relax and enjoy it and you can do what you like with them then. It is the same with the Timichugu. I tried a few methods of getting my magic back off the huge fish who had suckled it all, but none of them worked. Then, thinking of trout, I dived into the water and tried gently stroking and tickling the fish's belly. It worked like a charm. It relaxed, went sleepy...and the magic began to trickle out of it, and into the nearest living source – me. I took back most of my magic, until the greedy little Timichugu had shrunk back to the size you see here – its normal size, in the wild! And then using the same method, but being careful not to let any of them overeat – I distributed a little magic to every fish in the shoal..."
This was finally beginning to make sense. Newt's inability to cast the spell he intended at Aunt Ada's funeral...and perhaps, also, his frailness, in comparison to his wife, Tina. Witches and wizards lived longer than Muggles, but if he had drained his own resources...I winced.
"And now you haven't much magic left, have you?"
"Barely a drop," Newt said cheerfully. "But I was glad to put what I had to good use. The shoal was saved. I told my family that night about my secret project and what I had done, and Rolf and Luna have identified a suitable reef to take them to. They have made arrangements to go next week...they weren't pleased with me, though. Tina in particular – oh! She was furious... I should have told them about the Timichugu before. But when I knew I was retiring – I couldn't bear the thought of doing nothing. It was my little secret project – my hobby – my beauties – and I'm glad I kept them!"
He finished vehemently, looking down below at his precious shoal with fierce pride and love. But I couldn't look at them. I hugged my knees, staring at my feet in the bottom of the boat, feeling a terrible sadness creep over me. I knew, at last, why he had brought me all the way down here.
Newt's voice broke into my thoughts as if from a great distance. "And now, Juliet. To finally answer your question – why am I showing them to you?"
"I've guessed," I said, heavily. "Oh, Newt. You're giving me a chance to help Jennifer, aren't you? Because I told you wanted to make Jennifer a witch? If – if I let a fish drink half of my magic, Jennifer could do your tickling method and it would go back into her? Then we'd both be witches – half as powerful, but witches at least. That's what you think?"
"I don't know for certain that it would go into her, but I figured you might like to try!" Newt said, eyes shining. He was quite obviously delighted to think he might have solved our problem. "After all, if it doesn't, you can take it back yourself, and no harm done!"
I swallowed and looked up at the bright blue cloudless sky. This wasn't real. This place – this beautiful white-sand beach, and the palm trees, and the warm tropical sea – I was sitting in a rickety rowboat in a place stitched together with illusions... reality, cold hard reality, as I knew, was somewhere above my head. Reality was with the Minister for Magic in her study, waiting to meet with furious members of the Yazdani household. Reality was that I was probably going to get expelled from Hogwarts. Reality was that Hugo and Jennifer were also both in terrible trouble because of my stupid, dangerous plan, and also that they were probably by now worried and wondering where on earth Newt and I had got to. The weirdness of this whole world-within-a-briefcase had for a short time pushed all of that to the back of my mind, but now it all came rushing back.
"Oh, Newt," I said again, looking back at him with tears in my eyes as the little boat bobbed on his beautiful, silent sea. "You are the kindest, loveliest person, you really are. But – but – I really don't think I can."
I picked up the oars and began, miserably, to row back to shore, and as I did so, I told Newt – dear, affectionate, crestfallen Newt – what we had done...
