His name is Newton Artemis Fido Scamander. He prefers to be called Newt. He is a pureblood wizard with distant links to the Fawley family, but cares little for the name. He is a Hufflepuff through and through, and he loves creatures of all kinds. At school he had few friends, but spent time with the mermaids and the centaurs. He knows the forbidden forest like the back of his hand. He has a brother, Theseus, who loves him, and who writes to him every week no matter where they are in the world. He has finally achieved his dream job at the age of twenty one, commissioned by Augustus Worme to travel the world and find all kind of magical beasts, and write a book about them. He travels with a case, in which he hides creatures that he has taken it upon himself to rescue. He has saved Graphorns, a niffler, a dozen other creatures but there is still space for more creatures. There have been reports of Dugbogs being killed and harvested for parts. He is heading to Polystovo-Lovatskaya to investigate.
Newt walked around his case, meat shoved into a bucket at his side. The graphorns at least were getting more used to their new home - he suspected the female one might be carrying a pup, and if she was it could be what helps save the entire species. Mister Worme had said that Newt could educate wizardkind, that he would save creatures that way. But it turned out that was only part of what he could do. He could save creatures himself, walking through the world and researching, learning what he could and saving those that needed it most.
The female graphorn nudged her mate out of the way as she began to eat. The fact he allowed her to shove him aside so easily confirmed Newt's hope. Soon there would be a graphorn pup, and one of the rarest magical creatures in the world would be one step closer to being saved.
He paused by the niffler's den, noticing that a couple of his potion bottles had once more found their way in beside the soft-furred little creature. He pulled the dark fluffball out, and cuddled it to his chest as he rescued a few things from its hoard. He dropped a few coins in as recompense, and walked away.
He returned to his shed, glancing over the information there. He was trying to gather information about Dugbogs. He had promised Theseus he wouldn't get into any trouble, wouldn't investigate anything he shouldn't, but he had no plans on sticking to that particular promise. Not when there were creatures out there that he could help.
His name is Newton Artemis Fido Scamander. He prefers to be called Newt. He is a pureblood wizard. He is a Hufflepuff through and through, and he loves creatures of all kinds. He has a brother, Theseus, who loves him, who will find him. He had finally achieved his dream job at the age of twenty one, traveling the world to find all kind of magical beasts, and write a book about them. He travelled with a case, in which he planned to hide creatures that he took it upon himself to rescue. His travels had been going well. It was still part empty when he went to Polystovo-Lovatskaya to investigate reports of Dugbogs being killed and harvested for parts.
Newt paced beside the swamp, amazed at how immense it was, the trees stretching to the horizon and water lapping by his feet. He had travelled to various countries, but the world still found a million different ways to astound him.
He crouched down beside the edge of the water, looking for the creatures he had come here for. It was hard to spot them - when they stayed still they could be mistaken for a piece of deadwood. More than once, he thought he had seen what he was looking for, only to discover that it was the remains of a tree.
He walked forwards, seeing something move in the water. It was a small one - only a foot or so long, sunk deep within the mud. He pulled a mandrake from his case, and held it out. The creature raced forwards, tiny sharp teeth snapping at the plant. Newt dropped it down, smiling indulgently as the creature fed.
Newt started to make notes, watching the creature, careful not to disturb it. He wanted to make notes of its natural behaviour, not what it did when frightened. Newt had always got lost in his work, even as a child. He worked as the sky drew dark.
"Petrificus Totalis," a male voice rang out, and Newt fell back, frozen. A man walked forwards, grabbing his wrists and dragging him from the lake. His notebook was left there, but he saw the man grab his case, walking away with him. Newt tried to overpower the spell, but the caster was too strong for him to fight.
His name is Newton Scamander, although they never call him that. He prefers to be called Newt. He is a wizard and was a Hufflepuff. He loves creatures of all kinds. He has a brother, Theseus, who he misses. He used to travel the world with a case, looking for creatures to save. He got himself captured in Russia. The people who have him have noticed his talent with animals, and sometimes they let him help them. The man who says he owns him asks him to do things for that treat. He always gives in.
He wasn't meant to speak. He was there for other things, and he knew that. But Newt couldn't let this go on. The man was holding the young nundu cub by its throat, and the poor creature was making soft squeaking noises as it tried to grab air into its lungs.
"You can't hold her like that," Newt said. "Please. Let me..." He reached out for the creature, cradling it against his chest. He rocked her gently. "If you hold her round the throat, she can't breathe."
The man who had been holding the nundu raised an eyebrow.
"Boy?" the man who ran the entire thing called out, and Newt flinched. He was fairly sure he'd heard one of the guards call the man Grimsditch. Newt didn't feel like he deserved the name. Grims were noble creatures, and this man wasn't.
"Yes sir." Newt didn't want the cruciatus again, couldn't face it.
"You want to keep that kitten for a few weeks? Once it gets a bit bigger, we can sell her. If we can remove the poison glands - you know how to do that?" Grimsditch asked. "I have other people who can do it, but they sometimes kill the nundu. They're more concerned with their safety than that of the creature. But you're different, aren't you?"
"Yes sir," Newt whispered, scratching the kitten behind the ears. It purred softly.
"Show me how much you want to keep her," Grimsditch demanded.
Newt hesitated for a moment, until the man tapped the kitten with the tip of his wand, and then Newt crumpled to his knees in front of him, placing the kitten down on the ground.
Newt felt the kitten bounce against his leg, trying to climb up the rags he was still wearing, unhappy at the lack of attention. He tried to focus on that as he undid Grimsditch's pants, leaning in to take him into his mouth. Delicate hands fisted in his hair, tugging harshly. Newt focused on the nundu kitten by his side.
His name is Newton, although they call him slut or boy. He prefers to be called Newt. He was a wizard but he doesn’t do magic now. He loves creatures of all kinds. He has a brother, whose name he can no longer remember. He used to travel the world, looking for creatures to save. He got himself captured. The people who have him have noticed his talent with animals, and sometimes they let him care for them. He would do whatever he was asked to get to help them.
"You really are quite pretty," Grimsditch told Newt as he thrust into his body. "Such a slut too. Always so eager to help out with the creatures... and well, since that new boy arrived, I think you get almost jealous when I pay him attention."
Newt didn't answer. He couldn't draw any attention to the other boy, the younger man who his master had brought in along with his younger sister. If Grimsditch thought he could use the boy against Newt, he wouldn't hesitate to do it.
"I said you were pretty." Grimsditch tugged at his hair. "Might let some of my friends use you. See if that gets any more support. Might even see if I can trade you to someone. There'll be a lot of people out there... I can..." He groaned. "I can find someone who keeps creatures."
"Please..." Newt whispered, his voice shaking a little. "Please let me stay..."
Sometimes he remembered his brother's face. But he didn't think he'd be found. He shuddered as he felt Grimsditch emptying inside of him, moving to lick him clean without being ordered. He glanced up at the man through long eyelashes. Grimsditch stroked his hair.
"I'm bringing in a pregnant unicorn tomorrow. I know you're hardly a virgin, but I'm counting on you managing to tame her. I want her to take a saddle. She'll be worth a lot of money if she can be ridden. Much more than you are for your own... skills."
"Yes sir," Newt murmured. Grimsditch walked away, and he curled up, trying to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down.
His name is Newton, but they call him boy, or slut, or whore. He prefers to be called Newt. He loves creatures of all kinds. He had someone who loved him once. Now he helps with animals sometimes, for the people who own him.
He shivered, frightened. He could hear the children screaming, but he couldn't stop it. If it had just been the children being hurt for their entertainment, he might have been able to go in their place. But here the children were being tortured so that they would become obscurials, and he was too old for that.
The boy, the one with dark hair who cringed even before the torture started, walked up to the unicorn, his hand shaking. He held out a knife, watched closely by the man who ran things here. On the floor nearby was another of their prisoners. She stopped breathing an hour ago, her body giving out under the curses which swept over her.
"I don't..." he whispered, his words swallowed up by a flinch as the cruciatus curse ran through him.
The boy nicked at her skin with his knife, and liquid silver ran down her flank. Newt averted his eyes, holding onto the unicorn's foal which was whinnying in panic.
The boy backed away, and one of the guards walked forwards, plunging the knife into the unicorn's throat. The foal let out a sound like a scream. In the distance, he heard a sound like a gunshot as someone apparated into the room.
A lady's voice spoke, thick with an American accent.
"They're looking for us."
The guards ran forwards, grabbing the boy and apparating away.
Newt wrapped his arms around the foal, stumbling backwards. He found a way to hide behind some of the pallets lining the wall, his hand over the foal's mouth in an attempt to keep her quiet.
He heard someone speak from the main body of the room.
"Poor thing... she didn't deserve this."
"Remember, we're looking for any evidence we can find."
Newt pressed back further, trying to stay silent so that he wouldn't be discovered.
They call him boy, or #18, or slut, or whore. He prefers to be called Newt.