Fantastic Breasts & Where To Find Them

Terdley Slonimb

Three days after his arrival, Newt had adjusted to the time change. He woke up at 9am to sun streaming in through the bay windows of Chesterhome’s Suite 7a. Looking outside, he saw schoolgirls walking toward the dining hall. Because the wizarding school shared its grounds with a non-magical college, many students and professors did not wear traditional school robes, as they had to frequently walk between buildings in public. This did not stop the witches from dressing in all manner of eccentric, mismatched outfits in their attempt to blend in and/or express themselves. The Muggle girls - or Slow-Nimrods as the less kind at Bronxvitch called them - for their part, also dressed pretty wildly for non-magical people. Slonimb College attracted many bohemian, artsy students. It was sometimes hard to for Newt to tell who was a witch and who wasn’t.

The sliding doors opened a crack to allow a speckled owl to swoop in, dropping off the weekend edition of the Daily ‘Vitch Witch. The student newspaper advertised tryouts for the school’s AAA League Tenditch team and listed the dates of the fall matches. There was a colorized photograph of a blonde witch in green-and-white striped sporting robes, the uniform clinging tightly to her figure. She rode a broomstick and was swinging a large racket.

Professor Washingbeard had been pestering Newt for days to stop by his office underground in Titbird House and talk to him about the Succubeast. But Newt mostly stayed in his chambers, reviewing his notes and revising the various messy drafts of Catalog of Terrible Magical Monsters of the Known World: Their Environs, Diets, and Other Useful Information, Including Locations.

Feeling he needed some sunshine, he decided to go out and get the meeting with Washingbeard out of the way. The house-elf Onesimus brought in Newt’s black leather boots freshly shined. The Magizoologist dressed in a stylish, black three-piece corduroy suit with white leather elbow pads. He tucked his wand into his pocket, packed his kettle back into his briefcase, and ventured out of Chesterhome onto the campus grounds.

It was a hot day, and the green grass on the mall was littered with students enjoying the late summer weather. As a healthy young man who had not seen his girlfriend in three years, Newt had trouble averting his eyes from some of the shapely girls on the lawn. He felt like a dark wizard in Borgin and Burkes’ shop. Newt noticed the curly redheaded girl he had first talked to when he arrived at Chesterhome. She was wearing one of the shortest skirts Newt had ever seen, reposing on a blanket and eating strawberries. Next to her was her brunette friend. Newt hadn’t taken any notice of the friend before, when she had been wearing a baggy sweater on Wednesday night, but now he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Her curves spilled out of a low-cut dress. She wore lavender stockings on her short legs, and she had perfect dimples on both cheeks that showed when she was laughed at the ginger’s jokes. There weren’t a lot of Jews amongst the magical community in England, so this to Newt seemed like an entirely new species of babe.

He found himself scheming for a reason to talk to her, so he went over and asked the girls where he might find the entrance to Titbird House.

“What the hell is Titbird House?” asked the redhead.

“I thought it was one of the dormitories,” Newt replied, not realizing just how little many of the Slonimb students knew about the witching school in their midst.

The busty brunette sat up. “Look, mister, that’s the second time this week you’ve asked us where to find someplace that doesn’t exist. Are you sure you’re at the right school?”

“Ha, well, maybe not,” Newt tried to play it off with charm. “But I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

“What is it exactly you’re doing at an all-girls school, anyway?” asked the redhead.

“Oh, I’m a visiting scholar,” he explained.

“Applesauce!”

“Yeah, applesauce,” agreed the brunette. “If you’re a scholar, what’s your field of study?”