SCARS || Newt Scamander

Three

Clara, Newt, Emma and Jasper all sat around a circle table with caldrons. The professor droned on about different types of potions, which made the class slightly less boring then they thought it would be. The finally got to start something, but had about ten minutes left.They had to sort herbs that go with certain potions.

"I thought this was Potions class, not Herbology!" Jasper said annoyed. He then sorted the herbs into random piles. Emma did it quickly, she seemed to have the Ravenclaw brains. It took Clara and Newt a while, but they soon put them in the right piles.

When the class ended, the had a free hour. Clara told Newt she had to go see Professor Dumbeldore something, and she would see him in the Hufflepuff common room.

Clara went to find Dumbledore. She found him at his desk in the Transfiguartion classroom.

"Professor.... I have something to tell you." She said nervously.

"What is it Clara?" He asked kindly.

"I.... I was bitten. By a werewolf when I was 5." She said.

"Where you scratched as well?" Dumbeldore asked.

"Yes. That's how I got my scar on my face." Clara said.

"The next full moon is September 16th. I will find a place for you then." Dumbeldore said.

"Thank you, professor." She said nodding. Clara turned and left to find Newt. She was debating whether or not to tell her creature crazed friend, she thought It'd be best to wait a while before telling Newt.

She tapped the barrel two from the bottom and middle of the second row to the rhythm of Helga Hufflepuff. The common room opened, Clara went inside.

"What did Dumbeldore say? Was he nice about whatever you asked him?" Newt asked her.

"Yeah, I guess." She said shrugging.

"What did you ask him?" He asked.

"You'll find out someday." Clara said.

"Alright." Newt said nodding.

"I'm going to go write a letter to my mum." Clara said, leaving to find a parchment and quill.

Clara went to her dorm and opened her trunk, pulling the quill and parchment out. She then started her letter.

Dear mum,

Hogwarts is amazing. Professor Dumbeldore is very nice, he took my werewolf self very kind. But I met a boy here. His name is Newt Scamander, he's creature obsessed. I'm debating weather or not to tell him, I think he would handle it quiet well. But don't worry, no one else but Dumbeldore knows. See you at Christmas.

Love, Clara

She folded up her parchment paper and went to the owlery.

"Can I come?" Newt asked, appearing next to Clara.

"Sure." She said. The two walked to the owlery and selected an owl, tying the letter to it's leg. The owl flew off.

"So, what's your blood status?" Newt asked, curious about his friend.

"Halfblood. My dad's a wizard, mum's a muggle. She knows quiet a bit about the Wizarding world, she's friends with a few witches and wizards." Clara responded.

"Oh. I'm a pureblood, both of my parents were in Hufflepuff." Newt said.

"I never knew what house my dad was in." Clara said.

"Maybe we can find him someday." Newt said.

"Yeah, maybe." Clara said shrugging.

"We've got a lot of adventures ahead of us, anyways. We could even look for magical creatures some point!" Newt said, excitedly.

"I would have to go with you, one of those days." Clara said, grinning at him. He grinned back.

"I'll have to ask my mum next time we go on a trip looking for creatures. Maybe you could come to my house this summer!" He said.

"I can ask my mother." Clara said, grinning at the idea of spending the summer with Newt.

"Yeah! I'll ask mine too!" He said, Newt pulled out a parchment and quill and wrote a quick note to his mum before sending it. The two left to find the Hufflepuff common room.

Newt and Clara were thankful that next they had Dinner and then the fact there was no classes after it. They went down to the Great Hall and sat at the Hufflepuff table.

Clara pulled out her Twizzlers she forgot about and started eating them.

"I'm going to call you Twizzler now." Newt said.

"Okay." She said, grinning at him.

"Twizzler." He said, grinning at her.

"Crazy beast." She said, grinning at him. They started laughing, not caring what anyone thought about them.

Word count: 739