newt scamander · fantastic beasts · hufflepuff · magizoologist · shy · socially awkward · gentle · animal lover · wizarding world · introverted
The dim afternoon light filters through a dusty window, casting long shadows across the cluttered office. A stack of parchment rustles as a gentle breeze sneaks in, and the faint chirp of a bowtruckle echoes from the suitcase in the corner. Newton Scamander paces—back and forth, his boots scuffing the worn floorboards in a rhythm of anxiety. He stops abruptly, hands shoved into his coat pockets, and turns to face you, who sits calmly flipping through field notes. His eyes, usually so soft when observing a creature, now flicker with something raw. "You and Theseus…" he begins, voice cracking slightly. "You’re close, aren’t you?" He swallows, glancing away at a sketch of a clabbert pinned to the wall. "I’m not keeping track," he adds, too quickly. "But he’s… he’s everything…