Fantastic Breasts & Where To Find Them

The Pits

It was a crisp autumn evening and the leaves on the oaks were turning orange. Newt Scamander went outside to take a walk and he was enjoying the cool, fresh air. One disadvantage of the fall is that the schoolgirls studying on the lawn no longer dress quite as promiscuously as before, now cloaked by coats and scarves.

"Newt! There you are!" came an elderly voice. Dean Ruthephus was making a beeline towards the Magizoologist. "Are you coming to the Tenditch match?"

"Oh, is that today?" Newt asked. He had seen the match mentioned in the morning's 'Vitch Witch - indeed the entire newspaper was full of anticipation for it - but he had no intention of attending.

"Silly lad, of course it is. Come, walk with me." Newt relented and the two strolled through the yellowing trees. The Dean lowered his voice, "Any progress on the Succubeast?"

"No, it seems to be an utterly unreliable monster," said Newt. "One victim describes it as a beautiful woman, another as a hideous hag. That naturally leads me suspect that it might be a shape-shifter."

"The thought had crossed my mind, too," said the Dean.

"I'm also a little unclear about what its method of attack is. The victims are too traumatized, or perhaps too embarrassed, to really describe what happened. It involves some type of seduction, but after that, who knows?"

Ruthephus frowned. "Sexual evils can be some of the trickiest to uncover, as people are most secretive when it comes to the bedroom."

"Hi, Franklin!" called a girly voice. Karen and Deborah passed them going the other direction, the short brunette wearing a large men's overcoat. Newt nodded at the ladies and kept walking.

"What was that all about?" asked the Dean.

"I think she mistook me for someone else," said Newt.

"That must have been it. Anyway, there were several new Succubeast attacks in September - a Finn called Gideon Ontuakalu and another Frenchman, Étienne Mou. This demon either really hates the French or really loves them."

"I will continue to provide analysis," said Newt in a measured voice. "But I'm still not convinced that the Succubeast falls within the realm of Magizoology. For all we know, it might not be a beast at all. It could be a witch with dark urges and a perverted sense of romance, or a curse of some sort, or something else entirely. The only way to capture it would be to catch it in action. And we can't spy on every bedroom in New York City."

"Well the attack on Étienne Mou was in the North Bronx, perilously close to Chester County," said Ruthephus. "We can't be too careful. Ah, here we are." They were standing in front of a bush.

"This is the entrance to the Tenditch field?" asked Newt.

"Follow me." Ruthephus stepped into the bush and Newt followed. On the other side, there appeared bleachers full of students. The court was a concrete wall in the shape of an octagon, divided in the middle by another concrete wall. There were two blonde girls riding broomsticks on either side of the middle wall, each with a large racket. A half dozen different sized balls were flying in every direction within the octagon. Another smaller ball remained aloof. Ruthephus and Newt climbed to the top of the bleachers and took a seat next to Professor Chao and Professor Chao, the conjoined twin instructors of Arithmantic Theory and Numerologic Economics.

"I'm not much of a sporting fan," admitted Newt. "I'm not sure I even know all the rules to Quidditch, let alone Tenditch."

"Ah, well, they both are derived from Swivenhodge, of course, but Tenditch is far more popular in the states. I've grown fond of it. Do you fancy a Butterbeer? I'm going to get some concessions. Shudaizi, why don't you explain the rules to our distinguished guest." The Dean got up.