Newt Scamander and the Werewolf Pup

What You Crave

What You Crave

Come quickly, with the case. Hurry.

Newt's voice had echoed through the laboratory. The Niffler had stood on her hind paws and stared at the glimmering substance of the patronus and reached out one paw hopefully, her claws clasping onto thin air... Ned had followed the ghostly hippogriff out of the suitcase and onto the bank and he'd apparated across the lake, clutching the case... Ned Veigler ran through the trees. He could feel the moon's beams in his bones, could feel the night coming, the sun's protective power beginning to fail him. His knuckles were white with the strain of holding onto the suitcase's handle as he ducked and dodged trees and limbs, following after the ghostly form of Mr. Scamander's hippogriff patronus. His lungs burned with the effort and his skin crawled, the fur beneath it so desperate to come out.

He wanted to stop, to catch his breath, to give his joints and muscles a moment to recuperate, but he knew the moon was coming soon and he had to be to Newt before it did. And so he pressed on. Because it was the sort of determination that Newt Scamander would have had for any of his creatures - including him, Ned Veigler - and Mr. Scamander deserved no less in return. Because Ned owed Newt so much more than this, even.

He just hoped he could hold back the wolf long enough to get to him.

Fenrir Greyback grinned, his teeth gleaming yellow and sharp.

Newt shoved around Tina, reaching down to disengage Bradley Baker from 'round his leg and pushed the kid into Tina's arms as she knelt down and scooped him into her. Newt put himself between them and Fenrir Greyback and held his arms out protectively, his eyes on Greyback's shoulder, not his face, and his lower lip trembling against his front teeth.

Greyback chuckled, "Well isn't this a pleasant surprise? I came after the ickle pup and I find you... Newton Fido Scamander. Second name on the Werewolf Restriction Act, I believe, yes?" He smiled evilly and his teeth gleamed menacingly in the light of Newt's wand.

Newt nodded. "Y-yes. Yes, I was." He paused, "But I - I am a friend to werewolves... I'm no enemy."

"Yeah," nodded Fenrir, "You've got my old Omega tromping all over the continent with you after fantastic beasts, I've heard."

Newt did not answer.

Fenrir slunk his way forward, closer, and Newt backed up, nudging Tina and the boy back a bit, his coat blocking them, trying to shield the boy from having to look upon Greyback's face.

"No bother, though," Fenrir continued, "I can just make a new one." He grinned. "Give me the boy, Mr. Scamander."

"No," Newt said, and he shook his head.

"I don't think you understand," Fenrir said, "That wasn't an option, that was a command. You're on my territory now, Mr. Scamander."

Newt replied, "I - I uh, don't think that... that you understand, Mr. Greyback..." he looked up at Fenrir with defiant eyes, eyes that burned with determination. "I don't - don't give a damn what sort of c-commands you, uh, you give me. I'm not giving you the - the boy."

Fenrir smirked, "You - you - you won't g-give me the - the boy -" he mocked Newt's stammering, his eyes twinkling maliciously, "So b-b-brave of you, Mr. Scamander."

Behind Newt, Tina was positively enraged. "DON'T YOU MAKE FUN OF HIM, YOU FILTHY MAN!" she shouted.

Nothing made Porpentina Scamander angrier than when somebody mocked Newt's disability.