Thank you so much for all your patience! I'm having a lot of fun with this story but I really suck at online interactions *hides in corner*

Hope you guys enjoy the chapter ! We'll meet someone new ...

June 1973

Petunia had never considered herself a good liar, but looking at the pigsty in front of her and the dog at her side, she might have to rethink that assumption. Because neither Farmer Wilson nor the old Mrs Francis had doubted her words when she stood in front of them.

Petunia didn't know that the truth was much simpler: no-one would ever consider her daring enough to lie to grown-ups, so they didn't question her. Petunia was the well-behaved one of the Evan's girls, the one that tried to keep her unruly but loveable sister in line. If Lily had stood in front of Mrs Francis' door and asked if she could take her poodle for a walk, the old lady would have agreed with a warm feeling spreading through her chest, but there might have been a hint of worry for the dog in the back of her mind. When it came to Petunia she simply thought 'what a considerate child' and gave her the leash.

Lily was well-known for being untamed and free-spirited, running through the fields with leaves and sticks in her hair, never caring if her clothes got torn or dirty. She jumped around, laughed loudly and even hung out with that dreadful boy from the dankest corner of Spinner's End. But her older sister was different. She always looked well put-together, her face clean and her hair combed, her clothes dull but proper and long enough to be decent. She didn't raise her voice or grin widely, and while she frowned a lot, she never spoke a word of disagreement to her teachers.

While adults agreed that children should be well-behaved like Petunia, most secretly still found that children like Lily were more lively and cute. But liking her didn't mean they would implicitly trust her, unlike the girl's parents.

Petunia on the other hand … Everyone who knew her just thought of her as too boring to do anything untoward. She wanted to take the poodle for a walk? Probably the little girl wished to have a dog of her own, but didn't dare to pester her stressed parents. So the old lady would just lend it to her for a while and let the girl do the work while benefiting both of them.

Farmer Wilson had similar thoughts. The well-behaved neighbour's daughter had stood in front of his door with clasped hands to ask if she could see the newborn piglets and he didn't think about it further. Young girls all liked little animals, especially ones that were just a few days old. He didn't fear that Petunia would try to set them free or play with them. She would just take a look, as she had said.

But Petunia didn't realise all of those factors. In her mind, she was astonished with how well she could lie, a talent she had never honed before. While Petunia spit poisonous words like it was a sport, she always spoke at last a part-truth, otherwise where would be the impact?

But now she considered if she should expand her repertoire. Surely a well-placed lie or two could make people back off just as easily as an uncomfortable fact.

Mrs Francis' poodle, named Snowflake for its pure, white fur, tugged on his leash and brought Petunia back into the present. Looking at the pigsty in front of her she reminded herself that she had more important matters to concern herself with at the moment.

Ivy raised her little head from under Petunia's sleeve, the muted sunlight making her fine scales glitter like chips of turquoise and sapphires. Her big, bright eyes were focused on the leash gripped in Petunia's hand, and in extension, on the clueless dog sniffing around the barn doors.

"Ivy," Petunia warned. "Leave him."

Ivy clacked her small beak as if she was arguing but didn't unwind herself or grow bigger so Petunia considered her warning heeded.

"In theory, this is simple," she told Snowflake who looked up at her with watery, brown eyes. "You go in there, scare the Nogtail and then chase it away."

Honestly speaking, the poodle didn't look very intimidating. It was fluffy with a big ball of fur on top of his head and an equally bushed up tail. But it was the only dog in the area that was pure white and as such the only one qualified for chasing away the Nogtail.

If Mrs Francis knew that the well-behaved, dull Evan's girl actually wanted her poor Snowflake to confront a magical creature that blighted farmsteads she would have surely suffered a minor heart attack.

Taking a fortifying, deep breath Petunia stepped forward and pushed the doors open. The sweet smell of hay, wood, manure, feed and animals was so strong it downright perfumed the air around her. Beams of afternoon sunlight slanted through gaps in the low, wooden ceiling, illuminating spots of mud-splattered floor and dancing dust motes. Petunia could hear snuffling and grunting noises from behind a low fence and resolutely walked over, Snowflake excitedly tugging on his leash.

Behind the fence Petunia spotted a big sow lying down in the hay and soil while five piglets aggresivvely suckled on her, stepping on each other and tugging on the poor sow with vehemence. The sow didn't look well, a lot thinner than Petunia imagined pigs should be and she also didn't have any reaction to an unknown girl suddenly bending over her box because her eyes were closed. If Petunia hadn't seen the slow rise of her ribs, she would think she was already dead.

The piglets looked almost as miserable. They weren't plump and pink, but thin enough that Petunia could make out the bones of their small hips. Their ears and tails had obviously been bitten, crusted dirt and blood clinging to the soft, ragged skin.

But there was one piglet that was slightly different. It was bigger and cleaner and had a strange posture while it was kneeling in the hay, as if it had folded its legs underneath its body. Legs that were a lot longer than they had any right to be.

Petunia tried to suppress the small shiver running down her spine. That had to be it, that had to be the Nogtail.

"Snowflake." Her voice was strangely thin. "Get it."

But Snowflake didn't realise his importance or what Petunia wanted from him. He was happily pressing his nose through the gaps in the wood, sniffing at everything, his tail wagging and had no intention to attack one of the small piglets.

That was, until the Nogtail lifted its head by itself. Beady eyes like black beetles looked at the dog and then a hair-raising shriek echoed through the small shed, scaring the pigs and Petunia alike.

Snowflake flinched and started barking in excitement, jumping a bit. Ivy unwound herself further from Petunia's arm, the smooth whisper of her scales across Petunia's skin a familiar and calming sensation.

The Nogtail slowly stood up, and like Petunia had suspected, revealed hairless legs that would be more suited for a calf than a piglet. And then it pulled back its snout with a strange hiss, revealing unnatural, pointed teeth.

Both Petunia and Snowflake flinched back and the next second the Nogtail had already jumped over the low fence and started running.

Following instincts that no generations of breeding had been able to completely extinguish, Snowflake barked in excitement and took up the chase, Petunia quickly letting go of his leash before it could be ripped from her palm.

The Nogtail raced out the opened doors, Snowflake following along and Petunia stared after them while pressing a hand against her hammering heart. Ivy took the chance to bump her head against the underside of Petunia's chin.

"Alright, this is good, this is what was supposed to happen," Petunia said forcefully, her feet already following behind them. She knew that this had been the plan all along, Snowflake chasing the Nogtail, and that was exactly what he was doing but despite that … something felt wrong. Anxiety was crawling up her neck in a cold shiver, making her face feel numb.

Somehow seeing the soulless eyes and carnivorous teeth of the creature had been vastly different than just looking at a drawing of the same. And in comparison Snowflake just seemed so harmless with his bobbing fur ball and happily lolling pink tongue.

Petunia feared she might have underestimated this creature. And Snowflake would have to pay the price for her arrogance.

Blinking against the blinding sunlight, Petunia spotted a flash of white moving towards the tree line on the other side of the fields. The Nogtail must have fled towards the little forest bracketing the pastures.

Maybe it will all work out , she tried to convince herself. Maybe Snowflake will chase it into the forest and away from the property and everything will be fine .

Petunia pumped her long legs, grass and soil flying beneath her sneakers, running in earnest. Her breath was soon burning in her lungs as if the air had been ignited and each gasp rasped against the back of her throat but she barely felt it over the apprehension that was riding her every thought.

Petunia crested a small hill, her thighs throbbing and the blood rushing in her ears, only to freeze at what she saw.

The Nogtail had not fled into the forest. It was prancing in the shadows just before it, the tall trees sheltering it from the bright light and enveloping it in darkness. Its gait was strange and alien, long-legged and absurd when its legs bent the wrong way.

There was no trace of Snowflake anywhere.

Desperation squeezed Petunia's chest, her eyes wildly darting across the empty fields. Where had he gone? Was he injured?

Was he … dead?

Trembling, she descended the low hill, barely feeling a few thistles scratching her ankle bloody on her way. Her gaze was firmly focused on the tall wheats to her right, hoping that Snowflake was hiding somewhere inside them …

And then every hair stood up on her body. Without conscious decision her eyes left the golden field and returned to the stretch of shadow in front of the forest.

Only to find soulless black eyes focused solely on her.

The Nogtail had stopped pacing and lowered its head, its attention unwavering. For a few seconds everything seemed to slow down. The only things Petunia could feel was the raw pain in her lungs and the pulsing heartbeat at her neck - and then everything happened far too quickly.

The Nogtail shot forward, ghastly teeth gleaming in its open maw and before Petunia had a chance to react, Ivy burst from beneath her sleeve in a display of widely stretched azure wings and rippling scales. The Occamy's shriek ripped through the air and then there was a bright flash of light.

Petunia blinked afterimages out of her eyes, feeling disoriented and sick with apprehension. Something strong and sturdy was wrapped around her waist and only after lowering a hand and feeling plate-sized, smooth scales did Petunia realise it must be Ivy's enlarged form, protectively sheltering her and holding her up at the same time.

A few blinks later Petunia's vision finally cleared enough that she could make out the Nogtail right in front of Ivy. It was … frozen? Its mouth was opened, one of its spindly legs raised, its eyes wild but wholly unmoving. It looked almost like a grotesque garden statue.

What had just happened?

"I hope my Petrificus hasn't unduly startled you."

Petunia flinched and spotted a man coming from the treeline. He wasn't anyone from Cokesworth, as Petunia was sure she had never seen him before. He was of middling height, his gait careful and light while he made his way out of the forest. His age was difficult to pinpoint because while his hair was greying at the temples, it was still full, curling from his head in an untidy mess. Laugh lines circled friendly eyes and the corners of his mouth on which hung a very small, strangely lopsided smile. He was wearing a long coat despite the midday summer heat and was carrying a large, beat-up suitcase with him.

And then Petunia spotted who had been hiding behind him, pressing his snout against the man's free hand.

"Snowflake!"

"This is your dog, then?" The man gently stroked Snowflake's fuzzy ears. His voice was quite soft but despite that easily understandable. "A bit of a coward but very gentle."

Petunia just opened her mouth to question the man when she spotted the wand he had stuffed into his breast pocket. Just an inconspicuous, unadorned wooden stick, but it could as well have been another teeth-gnashing monster for the cold spike it sent through her chest.

A wizard …

"The Occamy on the other hand is quite brave."

Petunia froze. How could she have forgotten that Ivy wasn't hidden under her sleeve but still hovering protectively around her, her head as big as Petunia's torso? No-one could overlook her while she stared at the man with curious, golden eyes.

Petunia swallowed dryly, a nasty taste spreading through her mouth. She would be sick. This had to be a nightmare, this couldn't really be happening, not when she'd already let Ivy nestle inside her heart …

The man didn't mind her silence. He ducked his head a bit, still sporting a gentle smile.

"My name is Newt. And yours?"

Petunia was still reeling, thoughts chasing each other through her head like an unruly, buzzing bee hive.

What should she do, Ivy had been discovered, he was an unknown wizard, what did he do to the Nogtail, had he said his name was … Newt?

Petunia paused, feeling like she had forgotten to take a deep enough breath before diving in murky waters.

Newt?

That name was too uncommon, too special, and the first thing she thought of when she heard it … could it be …

"Newton Scamander?"

The man blinked, still playing with Snowflake's fluffy ears to the dog's obvious happiness. "Yes, though I vastly prefer Newt."

"Y-You're …" Eugene's father!

"... the author," Petunia finished lamely instead.

"Yes," the man said easily, though she could hear neither pride nor arrogance in his admission. His attention had already wandered, from her and Ivy to the unmoving Nogtail.

Petunia was frozen, no longer with panic but with a strange bubbling nervousness. Her gaze glued itself to the man's features, trying to find similarities. His hair was just as unruly as Eugene's own, though more of a caramel colour instead of golden. His eyes were a lighter hazel brown, not chocolate. His face was clean-shaven and freckled and Petunia suddenly recalled the few spots that danced across Eugene's nose bridge the last time she had seen him -

I must not give a damn then .

A breath shuddered inside her lungs and Petunia clamped down on the hurt that wanted to surge forth.

It wasn't worth it, she reminded herself. Petunia grit her teeth in self-reproach. So what if he was Eugene's father? It made no difference to her.

She mutely watched as the man hunched next to the Nogtail, looking at the creature. He didn't look like she imagined he would, somehow gentler and more subdued than his writing or his son had made her believe.

"You wanted to chase it off?"

For one tiny moment Petunia was unsure if he was talking to her or Snowflake, who was faithfully sitting at his heels.

"Yes, it was blighting the farm," she answered, trying to sound self-assured. She didn't care what this man thought about her, she repeated in her head, wanting to believe it. She no longer had anything to do with Eugene. And he didn't know that she had read his book so often the pages turned brittle. For him, she was nobody and so for her, he would be of no importance either.

"Not by choice," he answered, his tone light. Petunia blinked, momentarily losing her train of thought before realising he was talking about the horrifying Nogtail.

Eugene's father took his wand from his breast pocket and trailed it over the creature's spine. Its stiff body softened and faltered and its small, mean eyes closed, finally no longer staring at her.

For one terrifying second Petunia thought he had killed it and then she heard a small snore.

"There we go," Newt mumbled, patting the creature's flank. To Petunia's surprise he started talking in even cadence while carefully setting his suitcase down on the grass. "They get abandoned at birth, which is why they search for a surrogate mother as soon as they can walk. But nature is unfairly cruel to them, they can only survive while leeching from others and anyone that nurtures them is met with misfortune."

"Why?" The question had escaped before Petunia could rein it in. For the first time she actually understood that this man was the one whose words she had read so often she could recite them by heart. Whose book told her everything she knew about creatures, everything that shaped her life in recent times. Whose words had shattered all her illusions about her ability to see Aspen.

Her fingers glided over the glossy, sun-warmed scales still wrapped around her waist. The man whose book also ensured that she realised what Ivy's egg was when she saw it in Mr Chapman's window display.

At the moment he was still gazing intently at the sleeping Nogtail, unaware of her inner turmoil. "I intend to find out. Wingardium Leviosa ."

Petunia watched with wide eyes as the Nogtail started floating, its long legs dangling through the air and brushing the grass. Newt nodded once, as if this was the most normal thing in the world, and opened his suitcase with a snap.

Petunia was struggling not to protest that there was no way the creature would fit in the flat case when it had already disappeared inside, not even the tip of its ear left to see.

"How …?"

Newt looked up at her with a small smile. "If you want to follow, make sure your Occamy is small enough to fit."

He straightened, only to almost trip over Snowflake who was staring at him in canine devotion. "Oh, you also …? But no, I need someone to keep watch out here. I'm depending on you, don't let anyone run off with my case."

Snowflake still stared at him, his white tail whacking the ground rapidly.

"Good boy." Newt stroked the dog's head and then he … did something that made Petunia question everything she had ever learned about physics.

He put first one foot, then the other inside his suitcase and climbed inside. His legs, his torso and then his head simply disappeared where there should have been no space to go into.

For a few seconds Petunia just stared at the inconspicuous, leather-bound case lying in the rustling grass illuminated by yellowish sunlight, not sure what she was feeling. Part of her had still not quite caught up with everything that was happening, while another part of her felt … riled. Excited and apprehensive in a strange mixture, like a noxious cocktail that got to her head and made her dizzy and sick.

This was the magical beast expert everyone admired and he had just given her an opportunity. The suitcase was still open, gaping in invitation and silent promise, both enticing and forbidding.

Petunia let her fingers glide across Ivy's scales, trying to calm her mind and take a second to think. Everything that had happened today, from chasing the dangerous Nogtail to encountering this wizard, had stretched her nerves taunt and stirred her thoughts into a chaotic whirl.

For the first time, she allowed herself to pause and ponder one important question: what was Newton Scamander doing here?

Had he come here for the Nogtail? He certainly seemed interested enough in it, but a small cautious voice in the back of her head was clamouring for her attention. Was a Nogtail really the reason Newton Scamander, famous author and wizard, came to a backwater place like Cokeworth, whose only connection to magical society were Lily and the wretched boy?

And Aspen , a paranoid voice whispered inside her head, as well as Ivy.

Her nails scratched across Ivy's scales when her hand balled, trying to find a hold but scrambling uselessly on the smooth surface.

Maybe following him would be a mistake. But even as she stood there unmoving, Petunia knew that she didn't want to let this opportunity escape through her fingers.

She could leave right now, nothing was stopping her. She could try to hide Aspen and Ivy to the best of her abilities and hope that this man wasn't here for them.

Suddenly Petunia imagined in a rush uncharacteristic fanciful thinking that she was standing at a crossroad. One path led into the unknown, where she was vulnerable and might lose what she considered most important while another was well-trodden and overgrown with loneliness.

Maybe for once, she should take a chance.

Swallowing against all the doubts clamouring up her throat, she took a step towards the open case. Ivy, feeling her movement, shrank in a matter of seconds until she was no bigger than an average scarf, draping herself over Petunia's shoulders in a glittering display of ocean-colours. Her soft wings tickled Petunia's ears and Petunia found a strange measure of comfort in the sensation. Following some compulsion she carefully bobbed the underside of Ivy's beak with her finger, just as Ivy had done to Petunia's chin with her head beforehand.

The little winged snake chirped and Petunia suddenly felt lighter.

Snowflake was dancing around the suitcase in excitement and Petunia resolutely grabbed his trailing leash, tying it to a small tree at the edge of the forest. Snowflake made two circles and whined but she just gave him a consoling pat. "Be good, stay out of the heat. I'll bring you back to Mrs Francis soon."

Stepping inside the suitcase was strange. Looking down, her brain was telling her that she should see the bottom, fitted with faded fabric but instead there was a gaping path leading down. Down she knew not where, only that excitement buzzed across her skin like an electric current when she took her first step down.

Not giving herself another chance to doubt her decision, she started her descent.

Her descent into the suitcase of the world's most famous magical beasts expert. Her descent into an unknown future.

Petunia stepped onto creaking floor boards and raised her head, her breath stuttering while she marvelled at the world unfolding around her. For the first time she got a faint inkling of the things magic was really capable of. More than the petty little tricks the wretched boy used to bully her with or letting dishes wash themselves. This … this right here was the real magic.

The air was moist and fragrant, smelling exotic and lush. Petunia found herself in a little shed, surrounded on all sides with high, redwood shelves, the narrow room cluttered with all kinds of tools, ropes, buckets, potted and dried plants, little fluttering notes and heavy books.

What really took her breath away was not the small shed but what she could see beyond it through an open doorway.

Sunlight enticed her to step forward until her feet found soft-packed dirt instead of wooden boards. Everything above her head was clad in diffuse shadows and she could see a huge tarp sectioning it off, but what was much more fascinating than the 'sky' was the little sun shining in front of it. A glowing golden ball just hovered in the air, bathing Petunia's pale skin in summer's warmth as if she was still standing on the field outside.

But that wasn't all that floated above her head: a cluster of trees drifted serenely through the air, their long roots hanging down in tangled threads until they were close enough that Petunia could have brushed their tips with her outstretched fingers. Farther away she saw a silver orb bobbing in the air, illuminating the darkness around it in cool, bluish light, obviously a little moon to contrast the sun.

Time and space held no meaning inside the wizard's suitcase.

A bamboo forest stretched to Petunia's right, benefiting from the magical sunlight, the bright green stalks swaying and rustling in an invisible breeze. A grassland reminiscent of the African Savannah lay to her left, a dry area with pale grass and wide-brimmed trees which offered shade from the sun. And further still Petunia could hear the gurgle of a waterfall and lapping of waves.

It was overwhelming. It was magical. It was the best thing Petunia had ever seen, and she was suddenly sure, a lot more fascinating than Lily's stupid, ghost-invested school.

She was inside a suitcase , for God's sake!

"There you are."

Petunia turned her head and saw the wizard appear from the shadows of the bamboo forest, lance-shaped leaves brushing over his shoulders. "In here."

For some strange reason Petunia didn't even hesitate before walking over and following him into the greenery. Maybe it was the light citrusy smell in the air, maybe it was the slim shadows dancing across her skin or maybe she was simply too overwhelmed to second-guess herself. But for whatever reason, Petunia trotted behind him without a word of protest or doubt, her steps cushioned by soft, fragrant moss. Ivy lifted her head from Petunia's shoulder, looking around with interest, small leaves whispering over her scaled neck.

"You like it here as well?" Petunia mumbled, her voice hushed.

"It mimics their natural habitat," Newt answered without turning around. "Here we are."

That's when Petunia spotted it and froze.

A bamboo nest on the ground.

A bamboo nest filled with little Occamies.

They turned their bright eyes towards the wizard and opened their beaks, chirping in a disordered but excited melody when they saw Newt.

"Alright, Mum's here, Mum's here," he soothed them, kneeling down next to the nest and cupping his hands as if he was trying to scoop water. The Occamy closest to him quickly slithered over and curled up in his palms, fitting perfectly.

"They get quite attached." He stood up, carefully holding the Occamy in his hands and turned towards Petunia, but his hazel eyes stayed on the Occamy in his hold. "They share a special bond."

Ivy was staring straight at the Occamy nestled in the wizard's hands, the soft down feathers at the base of her skull flaring in agitation.

"Siblings," Newt said at that moment, taking a step closer. "Their mother was unable to protect her nest from the poachers. I've been tracking down her eggs all over Britain for most of the year. Yours is the only one that hatched before I could find it."

Petunia was silent.

"You surely noticed that their eggshells are made of pure silver, incredibly valuable. It makes them attractive prey for hunters looking to make a fortune."

Ivy thawed from her frozen state in that moment, giving a shrill cry. The wizard's Occamy blinked its big eyes and gave a softer call before rustling its wings in answer.

And the next second Petunia felt it: Ivy's scales sliding across her neck in a smooth whisper as the Occamy shot forward. And then she was suddenly gone, airborne, no longer draped over Petunia's shoulders but tumbling with the other Occamy in Newt's hands in a display of glimmering, jewel-like skin and flapping wings.

Petunia was too light. Something missing, something that gave her warmth and security, as if someone had suddenly ripped her blanket away in the middle of a cold night.

"They're just playing," Newt was saying, setting the coiled ball of hissing Occamies down in the shelter of the bamboo nest. "And establishing a hierarchy. Yours looks very dominant."

"Ivy …" But Petunia couldn't say anything further. She didn't even know what she wanted to say.

It felt like a small eternity to her before the hissing finally stopped but it might have just been the span of a few deep breaths. Ivy bobbed the chin of the other Occamy before slithering around the nest, curiously exploring everything around her, scrutinising her siblings.

"I was relieved when I saw you today."

The gravity of Newt's words ripped Petunia's fixed gaze away from Ivy to him. Suddenly everything appeared very surreal to her. The mussed up curls that were the wrong colour and peppered with grey, but still sent a needle-prick of familiarity through her heart whenever she looked at them. The softly rustling trees around her she had never seen before in her life, because bamboo had no place in the British Midlands. The sun shining above her head, so close that with a tall enough ladder she would be able to touch it, something she had long considered the childish fantasy of a five-year old.

Newt was still talking.

"The poacher knew I was looking for him, so he sold the last egg to a muggle. It took me too long to find it. But my fears didn't come true. The Occamy is well, and so are the muggles."

Petunia didn't answer. A small part of her was wondering if the wizard already knew that she was one of the 'muggles' he was talking about.

"I have you to thank for that."

Petunia felt hollow. She hadn't taken care of Ivy for him, she had done it for herself, for Ivy and for the sake of her own curiosity and fascination. She hadn't even done it for the other people living in Cokeworth, to protect them from some vague wizardly consequences.

She had done it because she wanted to, same with the Nogtail. Petunia might have told herself she did it for Farmer Wilson, but the real driving force behind her decision had always been her urge to learn more about magical creatures. To see them for herself, to write a few more observations into her book and to have something to think about during the dry school lessons that talked about grammar and numbers and never about flying brooms and magical monsters.

Now she watched Ivy, who had curled up in the middle of two of her siblings, resting her head on the back of one of them.

Suddenly Petunia was sure of one thing. The realisation sank like lead through her body, scraping her insides raw and numb. "You're taking her away from me."

For just a fleeting second their eyes met. Then he looked at the nest again, his voice still calm and soft. "'Away' implies you won't be able to see her."

Petunia almost let a bitter laugh escape her throat. What else would it mean? She wasn't magical, she didn't have a multidimensional suitcase containing a whole forest.

What else would it mean?

"Whenever you want to see your Occamy, just do it."

"How?" Petunia bit out, the word scathing on her tongue.

But Newt wasn't fazed, he just tilted his head, a slight smile playing around his lips. One of his hands dipped into his coat pocket before extending a small card towards her.

Petunia took it with prickling fingers looking at a scrawled address somewhere in Dorset.

Newt's eyes were twinkling. "By visiting me."