Fantastic Breasts & Where To Find Them

The Sewer Rat

Newt let himself out of her room, feeling a little dirty about the Memory Charm. He could have easily erased her entire recollection of what happened, but that felt pretty unethical. Plus, it was too good to be forgotten. However, he didn’t want to jeopardize his stay there by letting a Muggle student know too much, so he merely tweaked a few things inside her head. Newt walked by a few girls in the hall who gave him a knowing glance, as a lone male in the girls’ dormitory.

In the center of the campus mall was a small cafe. Late on a hot Saturday afternoon, it was teeming with schoolgirls reading and drinking coffee. Newt turned a few heads walking in, looking dashing in his black corduroy three-piece. Having already made love to one college girl that morning, he felt strangely confident, like the world was his oyster. He marched right up to the cafe counter and asked for the bathroom key.

“I’m sorry, the men’s bathroom is out of order,” said the girl behind the counter.

“Well, then, would it be any trouble to use the woman’s?” he asked.

“Are you clean?”

“The hippogriff flies tonight,” he replied. She handed him the key and he unlocked the door to the women’s bathroom. He stood in the toilet bowl and pulled the flush chord, disappearing down the drain in the same manner as one of the entrances to the Ministry of Magic.

He landed in a sewery puddle in an underground tunnel. He pulled himself out of the water, pointed his wand at his wet suit and shouted, “Ventus!”

There was no sign of students or anything resembling a girl’s dormitory. A rat scurried past him. Newt wondered for a moment if he had used the correct passage. Defunct subway tracks stretched into the tunnel as far as he could see in both directions. “Lumos!” he called, and a light came out of his wand. “Hello?”

The only reply was his own echo. He chose a direction at random and started walking up the tracks. He said outloud to himself, “If this is Titbird, it’s a real dump.”

In the distance, there was a rumbling sound. It began to grow louder quickly, and he realized to his horror that a subway train was coming toward him. The tunnel was quite narrow, and there would not be room on the ledge paralleling the tracks to get out of its way. He tried to disapparate but was unable. Turning around, he saw a bright light barreling toward him. He screamed and fell to the ground. An icy chill went through his bones as the ghost train passed right through him. He opened his eyes and saw spectral commuters in 19th century outfits looking tired and irritated that they were several decades late for work. The ghost train passed and Newt stood up, watching it disappear down the tunnel. He exhaled and kept walking.

The rat that had run by him earlier returned and stood up on its hind legs, sniffing around. It squeaked. “You wouldn’t happen to know how to get to Titbird House?” Newt addressed the rodent. It ran ahead and, for lack of a better plan, he followed it.

As he walked up the tracks, the tunnel grew larger and larger. Several other tunnels branched out, and he followed the rat through one turn and then another. “What is this, a maze?” he asked. The rat squealed back.

After fifteen minutes of walking, the rat disappeared into a drain. He looked up and down the tunnel, but there was nothing but sewer. “Great, I’ve just followed a rat to who-knows-where!” He turned around again and saw a dozen girls in witch’s robes sitting around a common room table, a warm fire in the stone fireplace. A tall, attractive blonde girl rushed up to him and shook his hand.

She addressed him in a Boston accent, “Mr. Scamander! Look, Mildred, it’s Newt Scamander! What are you doing in Titbird House? You look like you could use a towel.” The witch took a teacup from Mildred, a buxom Freshman, and transfigured it into a beach towel. Newt dried off his black suit.