Silence.

At least there was that. The paled, pessimist boy curled tighter in a ball just inside his small confined space, which he took refuge in. He was given permission to roam around the apartment. Even a room was prepared for him. Yet, he declined that offer. He fancied the closet more because he felt safe. That was all that mattered to him. However, this particular evening has shaken his world for the worse. A man in a long blue coat with a suitcase stepped into his life with reasons that were unknown to him. Should he be concerned that an unknown wizard walked in with green eyes that gleamed with inquisitiveness?

Fafnyr has dealt with magical beings once upon a time. But he concluded that the two women he met on that one faithful day were not like he encountered before. No. They treated him with heavenly food, a roof over his head, and welcoming arms. This was the place he could call his home. Queenie, one of the sisters, with strawberry hair and grayish green eyes. She was bewitching and her voice was honey-like every time she spoke. Along her was Porpentina—Tina for short – she wasn't much like her sister but Fafnyr understood that was strong, in a sense where she never would always stand up for what was right.

Yet the man of the hour tickled his little brain incessantly. For when he felt his gentle touch upon his silver hair and as his long fingers brushed down his neck—oh—how he wanted to mewl. Those large hands looked and felt like they handled creatures big or small with so much care and attention, how could that man ever be so dangerous?

"There now, it's alright." His tone was soft, not harsh or demanding in any way. Fafnyr, though, was surprised that the wizard could see his other form… a monster… yet he still treated him as though he could take him and together they could live happily ever after. Not until the young boy gasped at the object that sat on the floor.

A suitcase.

So, that was it, huh? This man must have been sent by those people in order to seize him. That could've been it. He was sure of it. Fafnyr spent most of his time thinking negatively that without him knowing, he drifted off into a deep sleep.

He woke with a start. His breath was shallow somehow, as he inhaled. He fumbled about trying to get a sense of his surroundings. Fafnyr thought he was still in the closet, but his safe place shouldn't be this tight. To ensure that he wasn't going crazy, he pressed his hands ahead of him and met up with a wall. A prickle of nerves shot through his body, his eyes widening the size of saucers.

'No, no, no, no!' he feebly cried out. 'Th—this can't be happening. I—I made sure that it was…'

He suddenly felt his surroundings shook; a jumble of noise emitted from the outside. Fafnyr froze. He tucked his arms in close and squeezed as small as possible, fearing for the worse to come.

Click.

A wave of bright light poured in at once, blinding him temporarily. He felt a gush of wind, briefly, as his focus regained normal again. Ahead of the boy when he popped his head out to see, was a large white room laden with heavy machinery. In the center of the room was a long, worn out bench with black straps attached to it. Adjacent to it was a small but subtle table with sharp looking tools.

Fafnyr assimilated his fate with a nervous swallow. Out the corner of his eye, a tall man wore of what described as a surgeon with locks of gray hair hiding underneath his cap. Before Fafnyr could act, the man whipped out a stick and his body levitated into the air. He thrashed uselessly against the invisible force. He was set onto the bench; eagle style. The straps became animated, trapping him down tightly. After securing the boy to the bench, the man uttered an incantation. The boy's clothes were ripped from him and soon he felt his skin being scrubbed by an invisible sponge.

The man with gray hair elegantly picked a tool, examined it carefully before eyeing the boy again. The silver eyed one watched in slow motion as the knife lowered to his skin, the blade pressuring deeply until it expunged through, sending a sharp pain through the boy. He yelped out with no noise to be heard. Fresh tears guttered his cheeks, as the knife continued to do its deed.

What has he done to deserve such a fate?

Stop. The boy whined. Don't do this. His voice fell on deaf ears, his world becoming blotchy. He remembered those soulless black eyes of the man that handled him. NO!

The door to the closet burst opened, alarming Newt. He hadn't had time to recollect his thoughts as something large knocked the winds out of him. He crashed to the floor and when he glanced up, his body froze on spot. A rather heavy being nailed him roughly to the ground. He recognized those silver orbs, only this time, the pupils were dilated. Newt knew this sign all too well. To Fafnyr, he only saw Newt as the man with the tools that dripped with his crimson.

Newt prepared himself, "Wait—" he shielded his face with his arms. One of Fafnyr's claws slit up his arm, tearing both the skin and the clothes entirely. Newt didn't want to harm him. That was just like adding fuel to the fire. All he really needed was to coax him that he was no threat, that he was not his enemy. With one hand grasping onto Fafnyr's horns while the other pushed against the long reptilian body, he wrestled with Fafnyr to get the advantage.

Unknowingly to either of them, Pickett, the little bowtruckle managed to escaped. He ducked out of range of the dragon's whip-like tail that flared about wildly and flew underneath a door.

"Leave me alone!" Fafnyr roared. Except, to Newt's ears he only heard the snarling of Fafnyr above him. With that note, he spotted the case discarded away from the man's grasp. He extended his tail to snatch up the object, feeling the leathery bound object in his furry grasp.

Out of the corner of Newt's eyes, he noticed his case was in peril. His heart was pounding in his chest, as the thoughts of all his beasts were in grave danger. "Fafnyr, stop!" He gasped out, his attention away from the creature before him. Fafnyr took this opportunity to gnash his razor-sharp teeth into the man's shoulder. Newt, now, focused on his screaming shoulder. He clenched his teeth as to suppress the pain from leaping out.

Out of the blue, someone shouted, "Expelliarmus!" The suitcase that Fafnyr held flew from his tail. He unlatched himself from the wizard's shoulder and glared at the interloper. Standing in their midst was none other than Tina and Queenie in their pajamas. Tina had the case in her arms, as Queenie had her hands on her hips, her intense glaring sent a shiver along Fafnyr's spine. He knew that expression; a look of disproval on a mother's face.

"Off," she tutted, while pointing to a corner of the hallway. Fafnyr hesitated. He curled himself and hissed at her. But she wasn't having any of this. She pointed again, her voice rising. "Fafnyr, now," at the sound of his name being called, he threw Newt against the wall, gaining an "Oof" from him. He slowly crawled his way to her. When did they come to acclaim his name? It has been so long since he last heard it. He remembered that guy uttering his name, but that didn't matter. The dragon could practically leap into Queenie's arms and lick all over her face for calling him correctly. Tina would be able to share the celebration too. However, Queenie's stern look was terrifying. Her foot began to tap impatiently, signaling that he should really pick up his pace. At last, he swallowed his pride and scrambled to his designated corner.

Newt sat up against the wall, weakly. His vision hazy and both of his arms were numb. He should really mind his bleeding limbs, but what he just witnessed put him in complete awe. Tina had rushed to his side and now was healing his wounded shoulder with her wand. The strawberry blond hair woman was berating the poor dragon, as he lowered his head in shame. Never as he ever seen such a sight as a human scolding a dragon. With his remaining strength, Newt mustered up a lopsided smile just as his world came hurdling down.

Back in the corner, Fafnyr licked his mouth, savoring the taste of Newt's blood.