A/N: I apologize for updating late. School and life loves to intercept with me. I'll update when I can. Boop

It has been a few weeks for Fafnyr to relearn his speech. Also, his legs has gotten used to walking now that he didn't need to rely on all fours any more. Tina taught him how to hold and use a pencil but since his hand began cramping, she wasn't that pleased when he practiced with his tail instead. Nonetheless, he learned the alphabet. Queenie, on the other hand, gushed on and on of how absolutely adorable Fafnyr was, whenever she fitted him with fabrics she designed herself. At first, Fafnyr, himself, favored for her attention but it quickly dawned on him that too much of her doting affection could be quite exhausting.

Newt offered him if he wanted to visit the creatures since they assisted Fafnyr on returning to normal, in which he obliged. The case erupted in cheers at the sight of the boy. Dougal padded over and gave the kid the softest hug he ever had. At his ankles, something incredibly soft nudged and he peered down at the niffler who shared a gleaming look. Although, he was human, sort of, he wished he could hear their joyous hoots of laughter and gleefully chants. Fafnyr thanked them all for their supports and apologized for being such a burden.

"Having a grand time?" The corners of his eyes crinkled. He was buried by the mooncalves; being constantly nudged.

The child's shoulders closed in, his head bowed just slightly with his fingers fidgeting on his chest. His tail trailing. "Y-yes, I am." He stuttered adorably. "Erm, h-how are you?"

"Couldn't be happier."

As the night dragged on and the party inside Fafnyr faded, Newt tucked him into bed. Before parting, he brushed aside a few strands of hair out of Fafnyr's sedate face. The beauty of this child left a pang of sadness that dwelled in Newt's chest. He slipped him a glance at the sleeping boy and left the bed. Unexpectedly, he tripped to the floor. Newt glanced around with a bewildered expression, and found Fafnyr's tail loosely around his ankles. He lifted his gaze, Fafnyr's eyes were semi-opened. He was whispering to him-so low that Newt had to lean into his murmurs.

"...something...important." Fafnyr sighed. The man petted his hair.

"You can tell me in the morning." He persuaded.

The boy shook his head slightly, "I...was a test subject to the organization... and..." Newt waited in anticipation for the rest to come. He already understood where Fafnyr came from, but hearing it directly from the source was truly devastating to confirm. But before he could finish, Fafnyr has already fallen asleep.

In the middle of the night, Newt jolted up in the stillness of the apartment. Something was terribly off, he was sure of it. Usually when situations like this, his creatures would be in vain or some trouble of the sort. He sought for his suitcase. Without a second thought, he jumped out of bed and clicked open his case before hunkering down and shutting the lid. Once inside, there was tension in the air. As he stepped outside his shed, the creatures were on edge. There were constantly murmurs all around the habitats. Most to all of them shuddered in fright.

Lately, Newt offered Fafnyr if he wanted to sleep inside the apartment, but since he insisted to stay in the case it was because he felt safe; like it was his new safe haven. Over by the large chunk of rock, where Frank used to occupy the space, Fafnyr laid uncomfortably on his side. Newt sprinted towards to examine any signs of distress and realized that the Fafnyr was reaching helplessly for his back. Fafnyr moaned and squirmed.

"Fafnyr, are you alright?" Newt rubbed circles on the child's back when he detected small lumps on his shoulder blades. "I'm going to have a look." He nodded and carefully lifted the shirt up, as Fafnyr struggled to control his ongoing aches. There were two nascent spots that were protruding by the minute. His skin stretched almost to the point of breaking. Newt tentively removed Fafnyr's shirt over his head, and avoided the horns.

"Newt... it hurts," Fafnyr whimpered. The said man found the boy's hand and squeezed it.

"I know it does."

Never has he ever seen something this strange like this before. What was growing that caused so much stress to him? He recalled when he took a gander at Fafnyr's animagus form on the very first day he met him. He had large bat-like wings on his back. And when the dragon transformed, they weren't present... his wings! They must be making an effort to develop. If only he had enough time to brew a calming draught potion, Fafnyr could be save from the suffering.

"Fafnyr, listen, you're going to be alright." He promised to the writhing child. He rolled his sleeves up before bundling Fafnyr into his arms; carefully avoiding the lumps. Fafnyr's back was blemished in red-like-paint spots, and his teeth grind to sustain his overwhelming throbs. Newt worried over the thought of the boy's mouth floating in blood. The wizard shuffled out of his case to be met by Tina who gasped at Fafnyr's state, while her sister tapped into his head. She pored over his thoughts, mind the British accent, and came to his conclusion.

"Tina, I need you to help expand the silencing spell in our apartment." She nodded. The said woman obeyed and went to search for her wand. As she busied herself, Newt juggled for his own while balancing the child. Fafnyr clutched close to Newt, his tail wrapped around his friend's ankles a little too tightly for comfort. With his free hand, Newt flicked aside furniture and rugs, thus, creating an open spot before he settled Fafnyr to the floor.

Perhaps they could apparate to a desolated area where they won't be disturbed...

Queenie's determination tone erupted Newt's troublesome mind. "We can't possibly risk apparating, this might be his first time with teleportation. It could disturb his wings that are already on the stage of blooming." She was right. He couldn't risk harming Fafnyr at any given moment. Tina dashed back into the living room to the crackling fireplace.

"Everything is secured. No one can be able to hear a peep. What's happening to Fafnyr?"

Queenie pointed to the man who sidled up to Fafnyr in attempts to aid him if possible. "Ask Newt," Newt thumbed Fafnyr's cheek, smearing away the waterfall of tears.

"He's evolving wings on his own. I don't know much about this transition, and I can't exactly pinpoint us a given time for when he'll be done." Newt informed. "I deeply apologize for what will come next. As long as the neighbors don't come around, I believe that's fine."

On the outskirts of New York, Sean plastered flyers over graffiti-tainted walls. He hefted his shoulder bag and ambled off to a new section and repeated. Occasionally, he apparated to various obsolete areas of the city to capture attention once the bitter night has lifted. Sean jerked the collar of his trench coat, in order to enclose the warmth of his body. He released a sigh that gently escaped his thin lips.

Fafnyr grunted, his body shuddered violently as he clawed the wooden floors. His nails scraped and bled, splinters piercing his fingers. He pulled himself to all fours, lolled his head around before dropping with a whimper. A supporting hand rubbed circles on his lower back for any source of consolation. There were words that surrounded him in fear, but they were strenuously drowned out by the beating of his own heart. Fafnyr's breath hitched, his eyes shut fast all the while enduring what was to come. His skin stretched, peeling back and introducing the lumps as knobby-ends of bone.

Newt was perplexed at the sight of the hollow bone structures as it continued to grow in great measures. Angled first until the entirety of the wing skeleton branched out; blood seeped from underneath Fafnyr's skin-bubbling with immense vain. Fafnyr let out a cry, yet refused to give in. The bones extended out thin but leathery carapace. What was left of this magnificent sight of a blood-soaked pair of wings, his back arched, and in a matter of seconds before finishing his performance, Fafnyr shoved Newt aside by his tail as he tossed his head back. With one final breath, his newborn wings spanned out-splattering the room with his sanguine fluid.

Fortunately, though, Tina and her sister saved themselves from being tainted with a wave of their wands. Newt, well, despite Fafnyr's help to ransom on Newt's behalf, his hands were stained slightly. It was alright. That didn't matter. All that mattered was that Fafnyr was free of his torment and collapsed to the floor. His wings steadily folded inwardly, draping over his body like a jacket.

Pickett slipped into view. His small black eyes widen at Fafnyr and the newly born wings, and the state of the room. What's next? A fire breathing child?