Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them...Continued.

14: Norwegian Nightmares

NEWT
     Romania was welcoming when he arrived, and the day before he left, his friends were acting happier than ever to have his help with the dragons.
"Well, Newt, before you go, could you help us with the newest births? The Common Welshes are in season," Noah, the only other Brit in the facility, asked him through the top of his suitcase.
"Oh, I'd love to," Newt said, reclining in his desk chair to look up at Noah, about to try out a Quick-Quotes Quill; something he'd always wanted, but had never been able to afford until now. "When?"
"Just before you leave tomorrow," Noah said. "They'll hatch tonight, we think."
"All right," Newt called. "I'll be there to check them before I catch the train."
"All right, g'night, mate," Noah said as he shut the lid.
"Good night," Newt said. He focused on the quill, which balanced over a piece of scrap parchment. He had sucked the tip of the quill and balanced it, and now searched for words to say. He decided to write a letter to Tina, just because. "Dear Tina, I'll be taking the train straight to France tomorrow. Then I'll be flying to Southampton to catch the ship to America. I can't wait to see you and Queenie; New York City may not be as eager to see me as I am to see it.
   "By the way, have you ever heard of a Quick-Quotes Quill? They're common here in Europe, and I've always wanted one. As I write this I'm trying it for the first time; it writes down the words that I say. Interesting, isn't it? It should save me a lot of time.
  "As for the presentation, I sincerely hope it went well. I know how much it means to Queenie. I know you won't know if Congress passed the law for a few weeks, but how do you feel the presentation went? I have confidence that everything will work out; you made a good point.
  "As for Romania, everything's good here. I got to see a few of the dragons I herded during the war; tomorrow morning before I leave I'll check the babies that are due to hatch tonight. All my friends here have been very hospitable. I hope that-"
    Midsentence, Newt's suitcase suddenly opened. He glanced up, momentarily distracted.
"What is it, Sven?" He asked.
"Newt!" Sven said, panicking. "We need your help! Get your broom, the Norweigian Ridgeback got out, and we need to heard her back to her pen."
"Oh, no! What if she hurts hers-"
"Just come on!"
"Coming! Let me get dressed-"
"We don't have time! Wear your pajamas! Come on!" Sven said, running away, slamming the lid shut. Newt hopped up and slipped on a pair of boots, but something stopped him. He paused right as he got to the top of the ladder, and looked down, before sliding back down, hastily signing the letter, and attaching it to his owl's foot with magic. Something in his mind would never let him go with an incomplete letter; a bit of obsessive compulsiveness he was never able to grow out of. Newt sent the owl off as he climbed out of the suitcase, unaware that the Quill had recorded every bit of his conversation with Sven.
   He ran out into the biting cold, cursing himself in wasting time on sending a letter that could have been spent putting on his coat. Flecks of sleet stung his face as he ran toward the comotion, his broomstick clutched tightly in his hand. Kicking hard, he joined the other men who flew after the beast; Sven and Noah yelled at him to fly over as he assessed the situation.
"Got an idea, Newt?" Noah yelled, his face red from cold in the silver moonlight.
"Yes, I've used this technique before!" Newt hollered back. "Just make a formation around her, directing her toward the ground, and I'll fly in front of her. If she sees me flying, she'll chase me, and I can lead her to the ground. Works every time!"
"She'll breathe on you!" Sven said, aghast.
"I'll have my eye on her the whole time, so I'll know which way to dodge!" Newt countered. "Just trust me; I've done this before, but you two were busy with something else!"
    Sven, Noah, and the two or three other men made a formation around the dragon, so she couldn't fly upwards. Newt, the wet, cold sleet numbing his skin through his flannel pajamas, zoomed from the tail of the dragon to the front, passing her eye to make sure she saw him. The beast roared, provoked; dragons typically like to fly alone, or with other dragons. Newt obviously wasn't another dragon. She snapped in his direction, but Newt was ten feet ahead of her snout. He looked back at her, and saw as she blew a ribbon of flame in his direction. He dodged to the left, missing it by a few feet. This happened a few more times, each time Newt successfully avoiding the narrow flames. However, just when things were looking good for everyone, and Newt and the others almost had her down, he heard someone shout from the ground. He turned toward the voice, distracted, and then it hit him.
     The well-aimed plume of flames dried his wet, cold clothes in an instant, replacing the numb cold with a flash of hot, blinding pain. As he cringed and screamed in alarm and pain, the ribbons of fire licked his back and left arm, missing his face except for a spot on his jaw and neck. Newt jerked away from the flame, and heard the rumble of the dragon touching the ground before he lost control of his smouldering broom completely, serving into the icy gravel from fifteen feet in the air. As he lay on the ground, watching pieces of his burning clothes flutter down around him, he heard voices and felt a rush of cool, relieving water wash over him before he surrendered to the darkness.
        Newt woke, not on the hard, cold gravel, but in a soft, warm bed. Light shone through tall windows, washing the ward with clear, winter sunlight. Even without stirring he could feel the presence of bandages wrapped around his torso and left arm. Suddenly panic hit him; he would miss the train and the ship if he didn't get up. Frantically, he sat up, only to be pushed back down by a nurse.
"Drink this," she said firmly in a thick Romanian accent. She held out a small cup filled with a dark blue liquid. Newt took it, and downed it all in one gulp. The heat he felt stirring inside him was cooled; the burns were not as hot.
"Thank you," he said earnestly. She let him sit up, this time. He was wearing nothing but a pair of thick white underwear, and suddenly felt thoroughly embarrassed. The nurse, however, didn't seem to notice him blushing.
"Take ointment," she said, handing him a big jar of a yellow paste; dragon burn ointment. "Reapply with new bandages every two days. Your friends brought case for you."
"All right," Newt said, turning to his case. "Thanks."
     As quickly as he could, he checked the time; it was ten. The train left at noon, and he would not miss it.
"Oi!" Came a voice suddenly, making Newt jump as he painstakingly pulled his pants up. Noah's head popped through the top.
"Please knock, next time," Newt said wearily.
"I thought you'd be sleeping for two days straight," Noah said, ignoring him. "That was quite a fall."
    Newt nodded, using magic to get his shirt on and button it up. He slid his coat on, and realized he needed a broom.
"Do you know of a place where I can buy a broom?" Newt asked Noah.
"What?" He was taken aback.
"I need to catch the train at noon, so is there a broom shop next to the train station?" Newt asked.
"The train? Mate, shouldn't you rest?" Noah said. Sven peeked in, joining Noah at the top. Newt climbed out, joining the both of them.
"It's a day-long train ride," Newt protested. "I'll be fine, I promise. I feel much better, anyway. It only hurts to move. Besides I have the ointment. I'll be getting to the train station." He patted their shoulders in brief farewell before beginning the long journey to Southampton.