Since getting into contact with his brother over the last couple of years, Milo Fleamont Potter has entered a whole other world of adventure, laced with trouble and not to mention immense danger. However, he regrets none of it as it continues to bri...
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Dear Milo Potter,
I must say in all my years alive, you've turned out to be the best penpal I've made yet. I wanted to thank you graciously for the sample of basilisk skin that you sent me. I would have never suspected receiving such a thing in the post or at all really. I certainly hope you kept some for yourself, as I would think it would be very valuable, not in the sense of the monetary value of course but for the sake of holding the skins of such a rare beastie. To show my gratitude, I have enclosed something special for you and I certainly hope you enjoy adding it to your collection as much as I will enjoy adding the shed skin to mine.
Sincerely,
Newt Scamander
P.S. Let us also pray that our posts never get lost and wind up in the hands of others, people would be dreadfully confused and concerned. Our posts are far from what I consider to be "Muggle worthy."
The letter remained opened on Milo's bed as the boy was currently busy trying to coax his bowtruckle out from underneath. When Milo had opened the envelope from Newt, whatever the man had sent him in return had fallen to the floor and Paden, the mischievous bowtruckle had snatched it up and proceeded to make a game out of keeping it out of Milo's reach. Now the boy was desperately trying to catch Paden, but the little creature was fast and enjoying the chase.
"Milo!" His mother's voice rang out from the area of the living room bringing Milo's head to jerk up and slam against the wooden frame of his bed. Paden flinched as Milo mumbled angrily to himself as his eyes watered in pain. The boy's hands covered the spot he had hit as he rubbed over the sore area over and over.
"C-coming!" He called back, but moments later, his mother appeared in the doorway to check on the loud noise she heard.
"I heard a banging sound and-....Milo, what are you doing under your bed?"
"Mr. Scamander sent me something in the post," Milo said as he crawled out from under the bed, still rubbing the part of his head that stung, "and Paden took it and he won't give it back!"
"Paden Potter!" The stern voice echoed slightly in the room and moments later, Paden peeked out from the other side of the bed. A little chirp sounded from the bowtruckle before it threw whatever the gift had been onto the bed and then disappeared. Milo quickly jumped onto his bed to retrieve the item, only to completely forget the pain in his head. He lifted up the small piece, bringing Minerva to look confused as she entered the bedroom further.
"What is it?"
Milo turned to her excitedly, nearly knocking the woman in the face as his hand out was outstretched to show her. "It's a chimaera scale, or at least, a fragment of it. Isn't that amazing? Do you know how rare it is to even come upon a chimaera and those that have hardly live to tell the tale! I can't imagine what he went through, well, actually, I could imagine but it probably be wouldn't be as accurate. But I suppose that's why they call it imagination, right? I-"
