Legilimency {Newt Scamander X Reader}

13

Good morrow, oh glorious beings of my story kingdom. 'Tis I, the chick who's very bipolar about this novel 😂

In case it wasn't obvious, I HAVE RETURNED!! To this story, specifically. It's been on my conscience that I left you guys the way I did ever since I decided to discontinue this story. But fret not, my saplings. I have been reading and re-reading this story over and over again and I'm slowly developing some ideas for how I want to take this! Now, alas, I cannot promise TIMELY updates; however, they will come to you as they come to me.

I'll also be doing some editing for my past chapters. Grammar and such, nothing too big.

I shall end this monologue with two things: I am so happy to be back, and I desperately missed you guys.

This chapter is short, I'm so, so sorry. But more is on the way!!
Now, on with the story~❤️
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Newt paces the length of our small, dimly lit room in HHogwarts, his tempo never wavering. His sleeves are rolled up, his shirt full of wrinkles, his bow tie undone, and stress engulfing his bearings. It has been several hours since our encounter with The Great White Stag, and -- from the looks of it -- Newt is still attempting to wrap his head around the rather astonishing experience. He holds both hands at the center of his chest, interlocking his fingers one moment, then placing them to his lips the next. All the while quietly mumbling to himself. I cannot quite make out every syllable that he articulates, just bits and pieces. Most of it being, "What does all of this mean?", and, "Why is this happening to _____?".

During his little critical thinking session that he is having with himself, I cannot help but begin to study the details of his face, though it feels like that's all I have done since the minute I met him. It's the little things in his expressions that give me the most satisfaction to observe. For example, the way his nose crinkles when he doesn't like something. Or the way his eyebrows crease when he's perplexed. Everything about him is so captivating. It would be impossible to place just one thing, specifically, that I like about him.

I am pulled from my thoughts as Newt pauses in front of the bed that I had decided to perch myself upon when we had first entered the room. No sooner had I hit the mattress, Newt had started his pacing. That was the moment when I had decided to make myself comfortable by laying on my stomach, my elbows bent, supporting my head in my hands. I have not moved since.

Newt turns his body ever so slightly in my direction, bringing his hands to his hair and giving his curls a good tousle. He then kneels, bringing his eye level to my own. "So, he had been expecting you?", Newt emphasized every other word in his sentence. I nod in reply. Newt looks to the wood paneling floor, thinking, then back at me. "And he said that you're going to be a key part of upcoming occurrences?" Again, I nod, this time adding a little 'mmhm'. Newt sighs, bringing his fingers to his lips once again, directing his eyes away from my face, towards the wall to his right. "Please, Merlin, don't let this mean what I think it means.", he mumbles to himself. "What do you think it means?", I ask, striving to capture his attention. Newt looks back to me, opens his mouth, hesitates, then says, "_____, your happenings with The Great White Stag are exceptionally incredible. Truly, it's brilliant, but... N-now, I'm not saying that you're not extraordinary, I knew that from the start. And I'm not saying it's wrong to be extraordinary, but—", he trips over several of his words before pausing, catching is breath, and composing his thoughts. I tilt my head at him in confusion, my eyebrows coming together to form a rather concerned expression. Newt looks me dead in the eye, takes both my hands into his, and gives my knuckles and swift, sweet kiss. "What I am trying to say, _____, is that I am deeply worried about you. The fact is that, because you are, supposedly, going to play a major role in near-future events, there is a possibility that you are in immense danger". His eyes convey quite a mix of emotion. Uneasiness, self-discouragement, pique, and most of all -- fear. I see disquieting tremors in his eyelids, as they appear to be blinking back tears. Without the thought even crossing my mind, my hand reaches up towards Newts well-scultped face. He flinches slightly when the tips of my fingers make contact with his smooth skin, but then he instantly relaxes and nuzzles into my palm, giving it a soft kiss as he does so. I smile at him, "Everything is going to be just fine." Newts eyes take on an almost steely demeanor. "You don't know that.", he says, his gaze finding the hard-wood floor. "You don't know what the wars can be like."

     A weight has suddenly fallen upon the atmosphere of the room, making it harder to breathe. "War?", I ask in shock, my hand instinctively retracting. "There have been wars amongst wizard kind?". He brings his eyes back to mine, answering my question without saying anything. I bring my hands to my chest, attempting to bring myself some sort of comfort. Newt brings himself to sit next to me on the bed, his face holding a serious, dejected look. "Do you really think that is what he meant? That I am supposed to partake in some kind of wizard war?"

The concept, itself, seemed ridiculous. Me, of all people, fighting in a war? And a wizard war at that. Had anybody brought this idea up to me a few months ago, I would have laughed it off and forgotten the encounter had ever happened. Now, the very idea sickens me, and brings me nothing but terror and displeasure.

Newt gently takes one of my hands into his, interlocking our fingers. His expression softens as he sighs, "I'm not saying that is the case. Not in the slightest. I am just saying that, if it is, we should be ready for it." He gives my hand a gentle squeeze, sending me one of his signature, little smirks. Though the gesture is small, it instantaneously puts me at ease. "Besides...", he continues. "— I only came to the conclusion of war because The Great White Stag, himself, gave you a piece of his antler. He gave you a formidable weapon with a prodigious amount of magical power." He gestures to the antler that glistens in the lamp light as if it where composed of thousands of glass shards that were once broken, but then brought back together. I look towards my newly acquired wand before looking back at Newt. "That type of wand is not given to any ordinary wizard for any ordinary circumstances."