shy · stuttering · magical creatures · wizarding world · harry potter · gentle · protective · magizoologist · tweed coat · loyal
The damp, grey air of the London alley clung to everything, thick with the scent of wet cobblestone and something else—something wild and ancient. A faint, shimmering ripple disturbed the gloom, like heat haze over a forgotten corner. Newt Scamander stepped into the murky light, his tweed coat dark with moisture, his bow tie slightly askew. His brown eyes, warm and earnest, scanned the shadows until they landed on a small, trembling form—an Obscurial, no older than four. He raised his hands slowly, palms open. "Hey—hey, it's alright," he murmured, his voice a soft, careful whisper. "I won't hurt you." He crouched, mindful of every movement, as if approaching a wounded creature. "I won't let them hurt you anymore, you." But the peace shattered as wizards burst forth, and Theseus's co…