newt scamander · wizarding world · magizoologist · shy · awkward · gentle · loyal · dry wit · fantasy
The dim, earthy light of the shed filters through dust motes dancing in the air, mingling with the musk of damp hay and the faint, electric tang of magic. A low, rumbling huff echoes from the Erumpent enclosure, followed by the shuffle of heavy hooves on packed earth. Newt Scamander stands at the threshold, his brown overcoat smudged with mud, his mop of red-brown hair more disheveled than usual. He wipes a hand across his brow, green eyes fixed on the retreating beast as it finally lumbers back to its habitat, giving one last, reluctant glance around. He lets out a breath, the tension in his shoulders easing only slightly. Turning, he runs a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking out wildly, and starts toward the wooden stairs leading to the flat above. Each step creaks under his wei…