Topsy Turvy - Family Force 5

A woman in her late twenties woke up in a choke. She traced her cheeks with her fingers to find them stained with fresh tears. Her face wallowed into her hands and shed a few more. That dream-ah-no! She shook her head to rid of that horrid voice of a child. It howled loudly, filling her ears-unable to pop the sound-she was drowning- her body flared helplessly in her nest of blankets.

A voice calmly called out to her. "Elaine, sweetheart, it's alright. Mummy's here." That got her to stop trembling. She covered her mouth to reduce the oncoming sobs. That voice-it couldn't be-she was certain that her mother was long gone.

"Sean," she lowered her hand and glared in the dark, her voice wavered. "Haven't I told you to not use hers." Those bitter-sweet memories of her mother came crashing over her in a whirl-pool of emotional pain. She clenched the hems of her blankets.

Sean's lips pinched downwards "My apologies," he toned his voice down to his original. "She was the only one who was able to tame your midnight fights."

Elaine fell silent, earning a cold laugh from the man that sat on her bedside. He flipped out his wand and flicked the curtains aside, allowing sunlight to pool into the room.

"You were having one of your 'dreams' again, weren't you?" He asked and leaned in forward, his hand resting, in assurance, over her hand. She didn't move from him despite his rude reaction.

"Yes," she simply replied. Her tears have stopped spilling from her red, puffy eyes.

"And?"

"And..." Elaine heaved a sigh and knew that his patience could give in any moment. "H-he's going to take flight." His hand tightened. She hitched her breath at his abuse, as she wiggled underneath his palm.

His brows furrowed together. "Are you sure?"

At last, she squirmed her hand away from his iron-fist grip. Her hand was slightly bruised. "My visions have never been wrong. Time and surrounding are blurry, you know that I'm very limited."

"Of course, I apologize." Edwin edged himself off her bed and pointed to her hand. "And for that." He shouldn't have acted like he did. His temper had simmered underneath his skin-he recognized that rage-it was very similar to his brother, Jason. But, Edwin refused to be the likes of him.

She rubbed her bruised hand against her face. "It's fine. I'm used to it." Those words were like weights that hanged onto his heartstrings. He faked smile and paced the room to return to the matter.

"It's interesting of how he was able to come this far. His final transplants didn't go accordingly, I wonder what kind of show he'll give us." Edwin smiled insincerely. "I'll let Jason know."

He slipped back through the door the way he came. The lights were still on, but that didn't have much effect on Elaine. She was alone in her own darkness.

Back into the case, Newt stole several glances over his shoulders as he cared for his creatures. He shouldn't show any of them favoritism, yet Pickett, Dougal, and the niffler were on his top three. And maybe Fafnyr could surely squeeze in if he was willing to come along with him on his travels.

Over where Fafnyr settled near the shed, an invisible hand brushed against his claw. Due to instinct, he shuffled immediately away from the source. The intruder revealed themselves with a set of black, doleful eyes.

"I'm sorry that I startled you," a slow smile sketched its face. "I am Dougal. That's what mummy calls me." It was an ape-like creature with long, silver fur.

This guy came out of nowhere!

"Mummy?" Fafnyr queried with wide eyes. "Is that what he calls you?"

Dougal glided over in intention for picking any bugs from his fur and sat down. "A few of us here were born in this case. He was the first that they saw, so they imprinted on him." Fafnyr hesitated at the soft touch of his large hands. His fingers combed elegantly through his greenish material. It felt...nice actually.

"I see. What about the others?"

"The rest of us are rescues," he nodded and founded almost to nothing of any sort of pest within Fafnyr's hair. "The Goldstein sisters really took care of you, huh?"

Fafnyr ducked his head away in embarrassment. "Well, all they see me is as a boy with," he referred to his body with his tail. "These."

"Is that surprising?"

"What?"

Dougal turned to him and patted his head. He smirked on Fafnyr's scowl. "Us creatures that live in this case can see your animagus form."

Fafnyr paused for a second on taking in what Dougal has told him. Sadness clouded his features, as he closed his eyelids-taking his mind down memory lane. One moment to the next. Time was unwinding-those underwater examination-hands trailing, leaving anything but affection-his cuts and bruises-his body twisting—Fafnyr's breath hitched, and curled around Dougal with a whimper.

"I didn't want to become one."

Dougal smoothed his rustled scales just as the niffler came scurrying up to them. He quietly observed the beast, placing a protective webbed-hand over his pouch. The niffler could see the animagus boy resenting, and he tilted his head. "Why feeling glum, chum?"

The dragon quirked his eyes down to the little fellow. "I-I'm sorry for handling you like that. You know-"

He was cut short by the soft ball with a bill. "It's alright." He was given a strange look by Fafnyr. "I've been through worse. Next time, though, I enjoy a little tickle." The niffler winked and sidled up against his scales.

After a while of bonding, Newt Scamander came sauntering in and found the crowd in a cuddle-puddle. He smirked to himself. 'And they didn't invite me?' Then he did a double-take on himself and acknowledged that he was covered in not only sweat, but multiple kinds of fur. He needed a bath if he ever wanted to share the love.

Brushing himself down, he decided not to disturb any of them and tiptoed out of his case. Since the Goldstein sisters were at work, he hopped into the bathroom and drew himself a hot bath. Lining the shelves were fruit-scented soaps and coconut shampoo and conditioner. He stripped his clothes, letting Pickett crawled out and enjoyed the steam. Newt dipped in-having his body be relinquished by the igneous waters that surrounded him.

It has been a very long time since he last took a bath. He remembered how he was pursuing a rather small creature-sleek body and swift feet. It did take him several weeks but even once was he close. But Newt was unfortunate when his feel trampled over the poor bloke and he came tumbling down into pools of mud. A mud bath.

Several minutes went by, and now there was a fresh and squeaky clean Newt who rested his head on the brims of the tub. All of the soap manifested into bubbles, and all he did was sigh in content. Little did he know that outside his door, a few creatures bustled about in search of something.