Written for Quidditch League, Round 4

Team: Wigtown Wanderers

Position: Chaser 2

Prompt: Freak Show

Additional prompts: (dialogue) "I feel like perhaps I am not being taken seriously," (creature) Bowtruckle, (word) venture

WC: 1837

Many thanks to my teammates, especially Liza for her alpha/beta help, and Gen for allowing me to borrow her OC's names. Thanks to Lyrrie for coming up with the matron's name as well. :)

we'll make it to the other side

The other students called Newt a weirdo. If they were feeling particularly cruel, they called him a freak. The best days were the ones when they ignored him altogether, allowing him to exist peacefully with the creatures who called Hogwarts home. Still, he had to deal with the taunts and jeers more often than not.

"You spend too much time with those stick creatures," they said. "It isn't right."

Newt tried not to pay them any mind. He tried to hold his head high and disregard the accusations that he was a monster just like the beasts he played with. And most importantly, he tried to spend as much time with his creature friends as he possibly could, almost always preferring their company to that of his fellow witches and wizards.

The Forbidden Forest boasted all manner of animals that he had befriended, but when he was feeling especially down, he headed not for the trees, but for the Black Lake. There, he would tap the dock with his wand and call forth the raft that would allow him to venture to the middle of the lake. Along the way, he marveled at the inky water, his thoughts drifting to the merpeople who supposedly lived down there. If he got the chance, he would love to meet them. Surely they wouldn't be as judgemental as the other children were.

After a quarter of an hour, he would disembark at Bowtruckle Island, named for the colony of Bowtruckles that inhabited the tiny mass of land. It was only half the size of the Great Hall, but it was home to hundreds of the green, stick-like critters.

One Bowtruckle in particular was Newt's favorite, though he would never admit it. He had taken to calling the little fellow "Pickett," and the creature seemed to understand and respond to that. He sometimes allowed Newt to hold him or place him on his shoulder, and he was good at making the young boy laugh.

"You're my best friend, you know," he told Pickett one day. He was seated on the ground, holding the Bowtruckle in the palm of his hand. "I often feel like...I feel like perhaps I am not being taken seriously. The other children don't understand why I enjoy the company of animals so much, and they tease me for it. But you understand me, don't you, Pickett? I can just be myself around you, and you don't judge me at all."

Pickett tilted his head at Newt, and his dark eyes seemed to say, That's right.

Emboldened by this response, Newt continued, "Today, I saw Leta—I suppose she's...sort of a friend, I've told you about her before—being bullied by some older Slytherins. I tried to stand up for her but she told me I was wasting my time." He shook his head at the memory. "I don't know why she keeps pushing me away. I mean, we're both outsiders, but she won't let me in. I wish I knew why. Is it because I'm a Hufflepuff? She doesn't seem like the sort to care about house affiliation, but maybe she doesn't want the teasing to get worse…"

He trailed off, smiling as Pickett jumped onto the ground and climbed up one of his outstretched legs.

"Maybe I'll try and talk to her tomorrow. Do you think I should do that, Pickett?"

Pickett looked up at the sound of his name. His tiny feet tickled Newt's kneecap, causing it to twitch. At this, the startled Bowtruckle shot straight into the air, and Newt had to cup his hands together to provide a soft landing for him.

"Sorry, little fellow," he said ruefully. "Didn't mean to scare you." He glanced up at the sky and noted the grey clouds slowly rolling in. "Looks like we're due for a storm. I suppose I'd better head back, but I'll see you again tomorrow, okay?"

...

"Leta!" Newt jogged after the Slytherin girl, but she kept walking. She didn't even glance in his direction once. "Leta, wait! Can we—can we talk, please?"

Finally, she ducked into an alcove, and her arm darted out to pull him in with her.

"What do you think you're doing, Scamander?" she demanded, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "You can't just approach me in the corridor—"

"Sorry!" Newt massaged the cramp in his side as his lungs drew in lungfuls of air. "Wait. Why not? I thought we were…"

His unspoken "friends" hung in the air between them.

"I can't risk being seen with you." Leta's voice was a low hiss. "Do you think the other Slytherins will ease up on me if they see us hanging out? If anything, it'll make things worse."

Newt had considered that the day before, but it hurt to hear her confirm it with such vitriol. His stomach clenched and his eyes began to burn, early indicators that tears were on their way. He didn't want to cry in front of Leta, though, so he focused his attention on the ugly tapestry just beyond her head.

"Right. Well, I'm sorry for bothering you." He turned, intent on making a quick exit, and nearly ran headfirst into Albert Burke. Burke, a Slytherin fifth-year, let out a nasty chuckle.

"What do we have here?" He smirked down at Newt before turning his gaze to Leta. His smirk widened. "Oh, isn't this precious. The freaks have found each other. Next thing you know, they'll be charging admission to their own little freak show!"

Several of his friends sniggered at this.

Newt took a step towards Leta. If curses started flying, he wanted to be at her side. It didn't matter that she didn't consider him a friend—he wasn't going to leave her to take on Burke and his friends alone.

"Aw, look at him, he's scared," Angus Avery mocked. "Going to hide behind a girl, Scamander? I'm not so sure this one will be much help to you. Even her own parents didn't want her, so why would you?"

The Slytherins roared with laughter, and the sound made Newt's blood boil.

"Leave her alone!" he shouted, reaching for his wand. No sooner had he pulled it from his pocket, however, than Burke shouted, "Petrificus Totalus!"

Newt's body stiffened and he went crashing down onto the unforgiving stone floor. There would likely be bruises in the morning, but he was more concerned about Leta's fate. He needn't have worried, however. A split second later, he heard Leta yell, "Flipendo!"

Newt strained his eyes towards the resulting thud, wishing that he could move his head and see who she had jinxed.

"You little—" Burke began furiously.

"Is there a problem here?" Newt recognized the voice even though he couldn't see the newcomer. It was Silvanus Kettleburn, one of the Hufflepuff prefects.

"No," Burke said sullenly.

"Glad to hear it. Now, wands away, and 20 points from Slytherin for fighting. Go on, or I'll throw in a detention, too."

Muttering under his breath, Burke swept away, stopping only to help his fallen friend. As the Slytherins' footsteps died away, Newt became aware that Silvanus was standing over him.

"Finite."

Newt felt his limbs loosen and immediately tried to move his jaw. He was relieved to find that the Full Body-Bind had been lifted and he could speak once more.

"Thanks," he said. Silvanus held out a hand to help him up, so he carefully climbed to his feet, his body aching from his fall.

"Better get yourself to the Hospital Wing, Newt." Silvanus nodded at Leta. "Leta, would you mind accompanying him?"

For a moment, Newt thought that she would refuse, but she finally gave a brief nod. "Come on, then, Scamander."

...

Madam Eldridge insisted that Newt lie down while she administered a potion to relieve his soreness. The purple liquid tasted like blueberries, and it filled him with a pleasant tingling sensation. He smiled over at Leta, who was begrudgingly allowing the matron to examine her as well.

"I'm fine," she kept insisting.

Madam Eldridge eventually agreed that she was, and bustled away to attend to her other patients. With her gone, however, Newt wasn't sure what to do with himself. He still wanted to talk to Leta, but he didn't know where to begin.

"I suppose I should thank you, Leta," he said at last.

She turned to him, her expression unreadable. "For what?"

"For having my back against Burke and his cronies." Newt slowly raised himself up onto his elbows, noting that his earlier pain was gone. "You could have walked away, but you didn't."

"It was nothing." Though Leta was quick to dismiss his gratitude, Newt thought he saw the hint of a smile on her face. "Seriously. I was just protecting myself, you know. It had nothing to do with you."

"Sure it didn't," he grinned. Leta folded her arms and glared at him.

"Shut up, Scamander."

Silence fell between the two of them. Newt thought that Leta might grow weary of his company and leave, but she didn't. She stayed, gazing at him with that same unreadable mask.

"I'm sorry," she said abruptly.

Newt stared at her, unable to comprehend her sudden apology.

"It's my fault that Burke and the rest of them found us," she explained, her fingers tugging at a loose hem on the sleeve of her robe. "They've been following me. Targeting me, really. I should have said something when you were trying to talk to me earlier but I was...I guess I was just flattered that someone was being nice to me for once, and I let it go too far. I failed you, and now you're here"—she waved a hand to indicate that she was talking about the Hospital Wing—"because of it."

"I'm fine, though." Newt sat up all of the way and swung his legs off the bed. "See? No soreness. No bruising, even. You have nothing to apologize for." He lowered his voice. "And I know what you mean about being flattered by someone's kindness. It's...it's kind of intoxicating, isn't it, when someone is finally nice to you?"

Leta didn't look at him as she replied, "I suppose it can be, yes."

"Then stop pushing me away," Newt pleaded. "We can...stick together. Help each other." His mind drifted to Pickett and the island he lived on. "I know a place we can go where Burke and Avery and the others will never find you—find us."

He held his breath as Leta appeared to contemplate his suggestion. Finally, she nodded, and the corners of her mouth lifted in the most beautiful smile Newt had ever seen.

"Alright. Show me this place of yours, Scamander."

Newt opened his mouth to tell her that she could use his first name, then shut it again. There would be time for that later. For now, he was going to take her to Bowtruckle Island and introduce her to Pickett and his brethren. Together, they would begin a new venture as friends. Real friends.