Work Header

Little Secrets

Work Text:

Newt was ten when he left Britain to go to America.

It was scary but he had no choice but to go. With mum and papa in heaven, only Newt and Theseus remained to take care of each other. But Theseus didn’t have enough money to do so, he had only just begun a job with hopes to one day become an auror. They lived in a single room and missed meals, but now that Theseus worked for the Ministry of Magic he signed Newt up to become a member of the International Wizarding Relations. Not many people were selected but Newt had somehow managed. He would go to America and do his schooling there under a guardian who had agreed to take on a ward. He was a wealthy important man who would have lots of food and pay for Newt to have the best education.

“You can do everything you dreamed of, become a great magizoologist, change the whole world,” Theseus comforted him as Newt sucked in watery sobs. People walked around them at the docks, some glancing but most ignoring them. Newt standing there clutching his suitcase while Theseus knelt in front of him and kissed his brow.

“Be strong Newt, you can do this. It’s a wonderful opportunity and we mustn’t waste it. Mum and papa would want you to do your best?”

Newt nodded his head miserably.

“I’ll write every week, forever and ever. When you’re all grown up you can return and we’ll get a place together. A real apartment and we'll have good meals together, you’ll probably be used to finest foods by then,” Theseus teased and Newt hiccupped.

“I’ll miss you,” he whimpered and his brother looked so sad, gathering Newt up into a tight hug.

“I’ll miss you too, more than anything. A part of me wants to be selfish, wants to keep you here but I can’t Newt. You can go across the sea to a life so much better than anything I can give you. Can you be strong for me?”

Newt clung to his brother but nodded his head. He tried to commit to memory the feel of his brother’s warm hug. How his arms felt and the way he smelt, the scratch of his coat on Newt’s cheek.

“Good luck, I’ll see you again,” Theseus promised, raining kissing on Newt’s hair before he finally sat back and stood up. Theseus rubbed his eyes, wiping away tears while Newt just let them fall down his cheeks freely.

“Write me as soon as you get there,” his brother instructed, forcing a smile.

A ministry official was waiting, nine other magical children leaving to America for a better future. Newt reluctantly joined them, looking back at his brother as they were led away and eventually up onto the ship. Newt hung onto the rail, peering at Theseus on the dock, waving at Newt until the ship moved so far away he couldn’t see him anymore.

His mum had made Newt a niffler from old cloth and a sewing spell before she passed. It was a bit lumpy and misshapen but it was Newt’s prized possession. He had promised to guard it always and he would keep that sacred promise to his mum. When he held it close, his imagined he could see his mum still, smiling down at him sweetly. He clutched it tightly in comfort as the boat rocked back and forth. His stomach heaved each time, until the man looking after them all just left a bucket beside Newt to throw up in as he needed.

He sobbed miserably and missed his brother and parents terribly. He wished he was back home and everyone was still alive and happy. Clutching his niffler, he begged for the ground to stop moving.

“I don’t feel well,” he told Mr. Potts, their guardian for the trip, and the man huffed softly.

“I can see that lad,” he rumbled in reply. He wasn’t kind or cruel, but a reserved sort of man. He had given Newt sea sickness potions but only had so many to offer and other children to think about. They all stayed in one room filled with magical cots that fit each child.

Newt had been sick in his and Mr. Potts cleaned it each time it happened but Newt was certain a bit of the smell lingered.

The other children stayed clear of Newt. He was constantly sick and stayed in his cot as the world kept lurching nauseously. Even if he wasn’t ill, he was never good at making friends, always a bit too awkward. There had been no children around him where he grew up, a small cabin on the edge of the forest where his mum would harvest rare plants and his dad would farm the field. Newt missed them so very much. He missed his home and his brother.

Pickett would come out when no was looking, pressing his leafy hands to Newt’s face and making worried whistles. He was the only comfort Newt had besides his niffler. His only friend who had snuck across the sea with him. Newt had thought maybe to leave Pickett but there was nowhere in the city he could leave him, no green trees that would suit his only friend.

When they finally arrived, Newt could barely walk properly. His food never stayed down and Mr. Potts said that made him weaker. Newt only knew his body felt too heavy and he ached terribly. As they came off the ship the sun was far too bright and it hurt his eyes. He clutched his niffler and his suitcase and prayed for everything to be ok now. Theseus had told him it would be. Once he arrived and met the man who would look after him. He would be just like Theseus, a big brother there to help Newt.

He sniffed weakly and looked around, trying to find this promised hero.

The children were all shuffled through customs and when the witch tapped her wand to Newt’s hair, Pickett squeaked.

“What’s this then?” The stern looking witch asked. She twisted her wand and Pickett cried as he was pulled from under Newt’s shirt and out into the open.

“He’s my friend, he’s ok,” Newt said urgently, cupping his hands around Pickett to protect him. “He’s not dangerous or anything,” he added.

The witch didn’t seem to believe him.

“What is it?” Mr. Potts asked, checking in on them and frowning down at Pickett. “Where did you get such a thing?”

“Pickett is my friend, he’s not a bother. He came with me,” Newt explained, looking between the two adults with growing fear. Neither seemed fine with Pickett and Newt could feel a terrible feeling building in his chest.

“Can we just go please?” He requested weakly.

“An unregistered magical creature cannot enter America. It’ll have to be confiscated,” the witch decreed and Newt clutched Pickett to his chest immediately.

“I’m s-sorry, I didn’t know. I’ll go back. I’ll go back on the boat,” Newt babbled, trying to back up and avoid the two adults watching him. Mr. Potts did look sad and the witch grimaced.

“I’m sorry, lad, but you must give us that creature, it can’t go with you.”

“Please, he’s my f-friend, he came with me so I won’t be alone, you see.” He explained frantically, looking at them and knowing they weren’t listening to him, not really.

Newt ran.

There had been older children in the apartment building he and Theseus lived at. They used to chase Newt for fun and cast spells at him as he hurried past. If they caught him, they would hurt him and so Newt learned quickly not to be caught.

Spells were flung but Newt dashed behind things, quick as a niffler.

He had to leave his suitcase but Pickett and his stuffed niffler were in his arms securely. People shouted as Newt saw a busy street and made his dash, not looking back. He moved behind things and people to avoid spells. His heart was pounding but he kept his focus on the street. Newt couldn’t lose Pickett, he just couldn’t. There was no way he could survive this strange new place all alone, with no one left to be his friend.

As he peered into the crowd he thought he saw his papa and Newt started at the sight. Sometimes he saw his parents, long after they had left. Theseus used to worry about it so Newt stopped telling him about them. It had been awhile since he saw his papa though and it threw him off.

Newt collided with someone painfully, knocking the wind out of him as they crumpled to the dock in a heap. Newt sucked in gasping breathes, sobbing and willing the tears to leave his eyes.

He messed up, he failed.

He could hear the footsteps and he clutched Pickett close to his chest, willing to protect him no matter what.

“What,” the man Newt had knocked over announced in a stern and loud voice. “Is going on here?”

He didn’t sound angry but something about his tone made Newt wince. He sounded like the sort you didn’t make trouble with, Theseus would say.

“I’m very sorry sir, this boy needs to be returned to customs immediately,” someone said.

“Yes, this tiny shivering, sobbing, boy certainly looks like a threat,” the man replied with a certain edge about his tone. Newt felt hands on his sides and he tensed. But the man was sitting them up together, lifting Newt to his feet with a careful hold.

“Sir, this is official business.”

“And as an auror, I am perfectly suited to assist,” the man added and the other one went quiet.

“Alright then, what is this all about?”

Newt slowly opened one eye and found a man watching him calmly. He raised a brow at Newt, kneeling in front of him and waiting for an answer clearly. He was dressed in a fancy suit and looked like someone who could get Newt into even more trouble.

“M’sorry,” he finally said, swallowing a hiccup. “They wanted to take Pickett and I was scared so I ran, I shouldn’t have run.” Theseus would be beside himself if he ever found out Newt had run from officials like that.

“I see, why don’t we go and sort this all out then? I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding,” he sounded certain, like he knew it was going to be fine and Newt peered at him unsurely. When he looked behind him, he cringed to see boxes and crates knocked over, people on the ground, and just a big mess he had made. Newt sucked in a watery sob and rubbed his face on his arm as he fought more tears.

“I ruined it,” he cried softly. “I ruined everything and now I’ll go to j-jail. I just got here and I ruined it already.”

Theseus would be so disappointed. Newt could see him already, hanging his head sadly, so ashamed of Newt, who couldn’t do anything right.

“You’ve caused a stir for certain, but it’s far from ruined, come along then,” the fancy man instructed, a gloved hand pressing gently on Newt’s back to direct him.

Mr. Potts and the witch were waiting, both frowning fiercely at Newt.

“That’s more than enough,” the man said before anyone spoke. “He’s a child and you both have no business blaming him.”

Feeling a bit better, Newt stepped closer to the man, peering at Mr. Potts and the witch wearily.

“Mr. Graves,” the witch said with an odd air, like she was worried in some way. “This is just a bit of a mess, but the boy has a magical creature and the laws are very clear on the matter.”

The fancy man hummed thoughtfully, peering down at Newt. He took a knee again, looking at Newt.

“May I see your pet? It must be checked to assure it’s not dangerous you see.”

Newt blinked at him, unsure. He waited patiently, watching Newt watch him. Newt’s mum smiled from his shoulder, her ghost seeming to assure him that the man could be trusted. Very hesitantly, he opened his arms and from between Newt’s chest and his stuffed niffler, Pickett peeked out.

“I see,” the man smirked, tipping his head at Pickett. “Far from deadly, really.”

“He’s not dangerous,” Newt whispered softly. “Pickett is very nice and he won’t hurt anyone.”

“I do believe you,” the fancy man said and Newt’s shoulders slumped with a great relief as he offered a weak smile.

“Sir,” the witch began but the man held up a hand.

“The first real problem would be having conversations not suited for children, in front of children,” he proclaimed. “Why don’t we move this all along and deal with the issues as they arise?”

Newt was sat down on a chair in a little office and most of the children met their new guardians and left. One boy stayed behind and Newt peered through the office glass as the boy waited while the adults spoke in a circle.

Papers were taken out and people signed them, Newt watching it all curiously.

“Papers mean official things, it might be good,” he told Pickett gently.

When the fancy man glanced up Newt ducked his head, caught looking. He sat back on the chain and tried to wait quietly.

The door was open and he heard the foot steps coming.

The man smiled down at Newt, peering at him with an open curiosity that Newt found he returned.

“Hello, Newton.”


Years later Newt learned he was supposed to go with someone else. That because of what had happened, Percival had switched with someone else last moment. It was decided Newt needed someone attentive and the older retired bookkeeper didn’t seem like a wise choice. So Newt went home with the young auror, Mr. Graves.

He carried Newt’s suitcase for him and told Newt about buildings they passed in the car. The car itself was a novelty but thankfully it didn’t upset his stomach the same way the boat had. They arrived at a great tall building and walked in to use the floo network. Newt nearly tripped on his feet, looking up the vast building. The inside was pretty as well, it went so high up with everything shiny and pretty.

“It is a lot to take in,” Mr. Graves said and Newt nodded, trotting to keep up with the man.

They took the floo to a fancy room and Newt immediately ran to the large windows, pressing his hands to the glass as he peered out at the great vast yard with trees and a whole forest unfolding.

“It’s like home!” He exclaimed excitedly, looking up at Mr. Graves as he approached more calmly.

“Did you live out in the country?”

Newt nodded, looking back out the windows at all the green. He had missed the green so much. The city was so much brick and stone, so cold and menacing.

“Before mum and papa had their accident. We all lived together in a nice house with a forest right behind us.”

The memory made him smile even has his heart hurt for his parents. Newt had expected more cities in America, not this wonderful green.

“Would you like to go for a walk?”

Newt nodded his head hurriedly, looking for a door.

“Ah, but first,” the man hesitated a moment.

The warm water splashed over Newt, soapy scrubbers washing his back for him as he popped bubbles and watched with wide eyes as the soap turned into different magical creatures.

Wibbly, the house elf, was making it all happen, waving her hands as she gave Newt a good thorough bath, making him spread his toes for the cloth to reach between them. It felt good to be clean again, Newt felt as if a whole layer of sour had been scrubbed away from the too long boat ride.

He laughed as warmed towels hugged him when he stepped out of the tub and the house elf was helping him pull on new clothing. She tutted and adjusted the sizes until everything fit.

Newt bounced into the main hall, the house was very large with more than one floor. Newt was curious to meet the other people who lived there. Wibbly led him to a large library room with a big desk where Mr. Graves was working.

Newt paused and waited, Theseus did work as well and asked Newt not to disturb him if he didn’t need too. So he stood in place, Pickett on his shoulder looking around curiously.

“Thank you for waiting,” Mr. Graves smiled as he set his ink quill back into the holder. “Do you feel better now?”

Newt nodded.

“Are you hungry?”

Shifting from foot to foot, Newt hesitated, glancing out the window at the gardens and forest but his stomach grumbled.

“A bit of both maybe?” Mr. Graves offered, seeming amused.

They ate lunch out on a porch overlooking the gardens. There were water fountains and fish swimming in them, little creatures hopping about and Newt was squirming with excitement to meet them all.

“This manor is very old and many magical creatures have made it their home. Many have lived here their whole lives,” Mr. Graves explained to Newt. “It’s very important that you might look but never try to catch or harm any of them.”

Newt sputtered on his sandwich sitting up and facing the man properly.

“I would never,” he cried aghast and the man seemed surprised with how loud Newt was. “Magical creatures are amazing and no one should ever hurt them or try to catch them. They have homes too.”

“That’s right,” Mr. Graves agreed after a moment. “I just wanted to make sure you understood that.”

Newt nodded his head firmly.

“I do know. I never took anyone from the forest unless they were hurt and needed help. Pickett was hurt and he came to stay but after he got better he refused to go back,” Newt explained. Pickett whistled at his name. He was on the table picking through a little bowl of greens and eating his fill.

“I promise I won’t hurt anyone or try to do anything mean to them,” Newt swore and Mr. Graves watched him, seeming to search Newt’s face for any lies before he nodded his head in agreement.


Newt woke that night, the strange room and too large bed making him uncomfortable. Pickett was curled up on the other pillow, sleeping soundly and that made Newt happy.

He had to work to get out of the soft bed with the plush blankets, toes searching for the ground because it was so high up. But he landed softly and padded across the room to the windows. Mr. Graves had picked this room for Newt because there was a large window with a ledge to sit in and look over the gardens and the forest.

Newt settled there now with his stuffed niffler, peering out at the calm night. The moonlight lit enough for him to see the shapes of the trees and it was comforting to watch them sway in the wind. He dozed like that, leaning on the glass window. He thought he could feel his mum’s hand in his hair, comforting him, her voice humming a lullaby.

Newt blinked sleepily and then woke up more when he noticed something across the gardens. Something big.

A black animal was prowling, head down and ears pointed forwards. Newt sat up on his knees, pressing to the glass to stare as the creature paused and stood very still, as if he knew someone was looking.

Newt waited, just as still until the creature finally moved again, slinking into the shadows of the trees and disappearing. It looked like a big dog, too big to be just a dog though. Newt sat back and smiled brightly, excited with this new world.


“I’m home!” Newt called down the halls. His trunk followed him by Mr. Grave’s magic. The man himself walked more leisurely after Newt, sorting letters they had picked up on the way into the house.

Newt’s feet thudded on the floor as he hurried to the kitchens and threw open the doors.

“You're home!” Jacob delighted and Newt grinned in reply, hurrying to hug the man in greeting. Jacob returned it quickly and Queenie came in from the office rooms, offering her own warm embrace.

“How was Ilvermorny this year sweetie?” She asked and Newt managed a smile in reply.

“It was b-better. I still missed everyone but I did try to make friends this time.”

“Oh?” Jacob said intrigued. “And how did that go?”

“Well,” Newt hesitated. “I met a lovely hippogriff and her chick,” he declared and both the adults shook their heads but smiled. Newt knew they had all hoped he would make friends with other people but he just wasn’t any good at it. Most of the other students told him he was annoying and talked too much about magical creatures. No one seemed to genuinely like him so Newt wasn’t sure how to make friends.

He had only finished his second year though, there was still plenty of time to try again, if only to please everyone.

“How were your grades?” Mr. Graves asked as he came in behind Newt. All three adults peering at him for an answer.

“They were good; my potions are much better this year. At my professor said my writing isn’t nearly as atrocious as last year.”

“Atrocious! Why you're only just learning, really,” Queenie huffed. “Some people.”

“That’s fine. You can practise again over the summer once more,” Mr. Graves suggested and Newt nodded his head.

He watched at Jacob put on his hot gloves and opened the over, revealing golden cream cheese scones.

“Your favourite, for your return home,” the man declared and Newt’s heart pounded warmly. He smiled up at Jacob and Queenie, and Mr. Graves. They all liked him, never seemed annoyed by him. They were the truest friends he had.

“Tina?” Newt called and after a moment his saw the dark hair down the stables.

“I’m home and I brought you a scone,” he called and the older woman appeared, pulling over her leather work gloves to reach out and hug Newt in greeting.

“Welcome home, young master,” she said and Newt flushed at the silly title. She only called him that to tease him.

“If you’re going to pick on me, I won’t give you your scone,” he threatened and she smirked, ruffling his hair.

“How was school?”

“Better,” Newt admitted and she seemed satisfied with that. Tina worked with the hippogriffs and endangered magical creatures on the Graves lands. She was the sort to be on her own a lot and never seemed to mind it. She also seemed to understand Newt was the same. That being alone didn’t mean he was lonely.

Tina broke her scone in half and took a bite of one piece.

“Credence,” she called and Newt blinked, watching as someone new appeared.

Tina offered him half the scone and he took it with a very soft 'thank you'. The young man looked scared almost, nervous and shy. 

“Credence, this is Newton, the young master.”

“Please call me Newt,” he added.

“Newt, this is Credence. Mr. Graves hired him on to help me.”

“Oh, that’s good. Do you know much about magical creatures?” Newt asked with a hint of excitement. But the man seemed to hunch in on himself.

“N-no yet. I was raised by no-maj so I’m only learning,” he explained to the ground and Newt felt bad for him. He imagined when he first arrived he was no different. It took time to realize this was a safe place.

 “That’s ok, I can help you. I know too much about magical creatures.”

“No such thing as too much,” Tina huffed, sounding so much like her sister.

“Newt loves magical creatures and knows how to be around them. He’ll help us this summer when he’s not working on his studies,” the last part was directed to Newt and he nodded his head obediently.

“Is Mr. Graves still here?” She asked, the look on her face suggesting she was thinking of work things.

“Yes, until tomorrow,” Newt replied. The only upsetting thing about the manor was that Mr. Graves worked in the city. He would leave by the floo each Monday morning and return Friday night. Newt only saw him on the weekends and did his best to only have good news to tell him.

After all, everything Newt had was because of Mr. Graves. He was the one who brought Newt into his home and shared with him. He paid for Newt’s schooling too.

Newt wrote Theseus every few weeks and made floo calls with him once a month. His brother was very happy that Newt was doing well. Theseus himself was working his way to begin auror training and very excited. They were both going to do the things they wanted to and Newt was beginning to recognize how rare that was in the world.

He truly owed a great deal to Mr. Graves’ kindness. 

Newt went and visited with the house elves after he walked through the stalls and greeted the various creatures there. There had been only prized hippogriffs that Mr. Graves’ grandmother and mother had bred and cherished originally. But as Newt found more hurt magical creatures in the gardens and forest they made room for them to recover in peace and safety.

Theseus used to worry over Newt bringing creatures home but Mr. Graves explained that they had the room to help them. As long as Newt obeyed the rules and told everyone about any new creatures he brought home. The niffler from his first year there had caused a rather large ruckus. So they helped creatures and sometimes specialists even came to help with certain ones. They talked about conservation efforts and preserving the land and beasts. It was long talk for helping magical creatures. Newt was learning that adults liked long talk, going the long way around to say something simple. Politics was what Queenie called it once.

Newt just wanted the magical creatures to be safe.

Once the sun went down and everyone went to bed for the night, Newt remained wide awake. He was too excited to be home to simply sleep so he left his bed. He pulled on a pair of trousers under his sleeping shirt and went out to the gardens. The grass was soft on his feet and he wiggled his toes in it as he made lazy circles around the gardens. They were very vast, a whole wide field of pretty trees and plants. Small and harmless magical creatures wandering about as they pleased. The nocturnal ones were awake and going about their day. Newt watched the glow bug twinkle and peered under the bushes to see the feet of something waddling about, looking for bugs in the dirt.

Ilvermorny was nice in its way, a big stone castle where Newt learned all sort of wonderful things. But there was something very special about the manor, something that still reminded Newt of his very first home. It felt good and warm, lifting his spirits up so high he might float a bit. He stood on his toe tips, swinging to keep balance with his arms out wide. It was childish but there was no one to see him. 

When he tumbled into the grass he laughed at himself, delighted to be home.

The bushes rustled and Newt looked up, expecting some sort of creature. He froze when he saw paws, great big ones, stepping without making a sound. Newt slowly sat up and knew he should go back to the house right away.

But his inquisitiveness was pulsing. Besides the hippogriffs, he rarely saw the larger creatures around the grounds.

Newt stayed where he was, settled on his knees and very still as a large dark beast came around the bushes. It peered at Newt a moment, his heart pounding in his chest, fear warring with excitement in Newt’s very being.

But then the wolf looked away, trotting to the water fountain to drink.

It was a wolf, a great big one. Black and grey colored, almost hidden in the low light. The moon wasn’t full so Newt’s eyes strained to take in details.

He swallowed when the wolf lifted its head, looking at him again.

“H-Hello,” Newt breathed softly, making sure not to stare at the wolf and challenge him by accident or anything.

The wolf sat back, head tipped as it just watched Newt curiously. Almost asking who he was and why he was there.

“I’m Newt, I’m just out for a walk,” he whispered very delicately. “Is this your home too?”

The wolf surprised him by nodding its head.

“Oh,” Newt smiled brightly. “You understand?”

Another nod.

“Of course, a normal wolf wouldn’t be here. You must be magical!” Newt explained. “I think I saw you, years ago, when I first came here.”

The wolf listened to Newt babble, attention trained on him as the boy explained all he knew about dire wolves, black dogs, and hellhounds. He wasn’t sure which fit his new friend though.

When Newt gave a yawn the wolf sat up, trotting over to his side. Newt knew the wolf was intelligent though so he wasn’t scared. He did feel small though, the wolf was much larger then him sitting down. Even when he stood, he wasn’t much taller than the beast’s back.

A cold nose poked his arm and Newt went, letting the wolf herd him back towards the house.

“I see; you want me to go back to bed?”

The wolf nodded.

“Alright then. It was very nice to talk to you,” Newt waved goodbye and the wolf watched him go up the steps and up into the house. Feeling properly tired, Newt pushed his trousers off and climbed into his bed. It was still far too big and lush, his hands and knees sinking into the bedding. He had to wrestle to get under the covers.

A warming charm took the cold from the bed and Newt sighed happily. He blinked sleepily as Mr. Graves pulled the blankets up around Newt tighter. Too close to sleeping, Newt could only offer a smile in gratitude.

Mr. Graves was kind like that.


Newt was sixteen when he first realized he was in love with Mr. Graves. It seemed silly of him to take so long to see it. When he looked back it was terribly obvious. Everyone knew it too. People at school had even told him he talked too much about his guardian. Newt felt like he was doomed to fail at making friends, no matter what he talked about, it never seemed right. But no one pressed him to try so hard anymore. They seemed to realize Newt was happy as he was, that he wasn’t lacking something important just because his friends where all much older or magical creatures. Honestly it made sense, that Newt’s heart would want someone like Mr. Graves, one of his dearest friends. Who better to love then someone he knew to be wonderful in so many ways.

Of course, it wasn’t simple.

Because once Newt realized he loved him, he was suddenly very aware of the older man. Every smirk on his mouth and the way his gaze would turn onto Newt. His fingers and the way he held things with a graceful sophistication. But still held properly, not a weak grip but a sure and firm one. Newt found himself obsessed on such things. On the way the man walked and moved, something leisurely but with focus and intent in each step. The fine clothing he wore, everything cut close and suiting him oh so well. But that didn’t stop him from getting dirty, from coming into a stall and helping Newt hold down a hurt creature. Mr. Graves was so many things and Newt was so utterly in love.

His face would warm when he was around the man. Jacob never teased him but it was clear he knew. Queenie could hear his thoughts and giggled to herself. Tina told Newt he needed to hide his hand better, not to be obvious. Credence seemed to understand though, everything about Mr. Graves and how it was impossible not to be taken with him.

If Mr. Graves knew, he must know, nothing slipped by him, he never said anything. Never made fun of Newt for his feelings. He was so endlessly grateful for that. Newt knew nothing would ever happen between them, he wasn’t a fool, but he felt like something might break in him if the older man laughed at him. 

The stables and the gardens became his refuge. Newt had always loved them but now they were his safe place. When he was in the house everything reminded him of Mr. Graves and it made his heart dizzy. He could barely even talk properly around the man, stumbling over words or letting the wrong ones out. Every little twitch of his body felt like a great obvious thing, ever mistake so humiliating.

So Newt worked in stable more on weekends when the man was home. He helped treat magical creatures and took notes on them. He would feed the hippogriffs and winged horses and pet the porlock. It was a quiet sort of creature that guarded the stables so Tina let it be when it appeared. It was never too sure of anyone but it would take food Newt left for it so he considered them friends. Later on, he would sit in the gardens and draw any creatures he would see. Taking more notes on them as he went along.

Many of them knew Newt well after years of living together. He brought them food and never tried to hurt them. So bowtruckles would crawl on his shoulders. Pickett would cling the most but in the end he would go with the others when they left. Newt was very much glad for that. He loved Pickett but he also wanted him to be where he belonged, out in the wild.

Sometimes nifflers would search Newt’s pockets for things to steal. The crups would chase them away and Newt would watch the nifflers outsmart the poor crups by using burrows to hide and pop out of.

The doxies and fairies would flutter about, pretty to look at but with a mean bite to them.

Gnomes, diricawls, and puffskeins would wander by, minding their own lives. Sometimes the puffskeins would come to Newt for a cuddle and some affection, which he gave happily.

There was an endless supply of magical creatures for Newt to watch and he was usually called in for dinner by Jacob before realizing how late it was. He would sit and eat with Mr. Graves on the weekends, in the formal room with the large table. During the weekdays Newt ate with Jacob, Queenie, Tina, and Credence at the little preparation table in the kitchen.

No matter where he was, he’d talk about his day, about the magical creatures he had met and anything new he had learned about them. No one rolled their eyes or got bored with his stories. They’d listen and comment and then tell their own stories and Newt would make sure to listen. He was certain these people where true friends, far more than anything he could force at school.

Mr. Graves always listened as well and even ask questions that made Newt wonder as well.

“If a diricawl can apperate when it senses danger would it react to a spell from someone meaning no ill will?”

Newt blinked, looking up from his soup.

“Well…I’m not sure. The diricawl in the garden never apperate away from me. But the do from the crups. But then the crups don’t mean real harm, they're just playing usually.”

“Perhaps it’s merely the chance of danger?”

Newt hummed thoughtfully, trying to recall any odd situations with the beasts.

“There was one, I called him Philip, he didn’t like getting wet. So if it rained he would apperate straight under some cover. So perhaps it’s not only the case of danger but comfort?”

Mr. Graves nodded his head in consideration, absently licking a bit of soup from his lip. Newt was immediately distracted by it, face flushing red at the very sight. He dropped his chin and looked back to the soup firmly, hoping to hide his blush.

“Have you seen anyone new around the gardens this spring?” Mr. Graves asked and Newt squirmed in his chair before shaking his head.

He felt terrible to lie, but some creatures need to be protected. If anyone knew that there was a wampus that liked to drink form the fountain they would want to scare it away, or worst, want to hurt it. Newt knew that the people of the manor were very kind and understanding about magical creatures and that it was rare. Most of the children at school and even the professors seemed to think the best reaction was to kill poor creatures. They called them pests or dangerous things, various words that meant they thought little of them and if they could, would harm them.

Newt wanted to believe Mr. Graves would be understanding, but he just couldn’t endanger the poor creatures simply to know.

So Newt never told him or anyone about the wampus and the hodag. Neither of them went near the stables and the porlock would protect the creatures there. Credence had a small room there that he slept in at night, in order to be nearby in case the creatures needed help. 

Besides, a hippogriff wasn’t some weak creature.

So Newt pushed away the guilt and never said a word.

The wampus never got too close to the manor or to Newt. The hodag was different. Newt had studied many canine magical creatures over the years and he knew them all by sight.

Newt had seen the wolf again over the years. Has even sat with him and chattered at the beast who seemed to listen. He would pad in close to Newt and sniff his hair and eventually send him off to the house. Not always at night either, sometimes during the day. The wolf would always send Newt into the house. He supposed it thought he was a pup and was making sure Newt went into his den to be safe. For a time, he had thought the wolf might be a hodag. They were great black hounds with long horns and red glowing eyes. Very scary looking but not an overly dangerous type. They mostly just wanted to eat mooncalves and rarely hunted other creatures. Newt had seen signs of a mooncalves’ den in the forest so he supposed it made sense that a predator would be there as well.

When Newt saw a proper hodag he knew right away his wolf friend wasn’t one of them. His eyes were yellow and not red and he lacked any horns. He must be a dire wolf, a wolf with magic that looked like a normal one but was much larger. They were very intelligent and very rare to see. Newt was convinced his friend was one of them.

But the hodag did stay around the forest, swiftly moving through the trees, ears pointed forward as it stalked rabbits. Its horns were intimidating, two long pointed prongs that were sharp looking. It was black all over and it looked like a large dog until one was close. Newt could see then that head was shaped more like a reptile, a thin tongue scenting the air like a snake would. It knew Newt was watching it, sketching it over and over to learn all about this new sighting.

He left out bits of meat for it and was rewarded with the beast drifting closer to him some days. The books claimed it was dangerous but it never showed any aggression. Really, the books said every beast was dangerous, regardless if they really were.


“I’d like to write a new book one day, a proper book about magical creatures and how to coexist with them,” Newt confessed to his wolf one warm summer night. The moon was full and they were out walking the grounds. The wolf trailing after Newt as he walked barefoot along the edge of one of the many water fountains.

“People seem to think all creatures are the same, that you're all out to eat them and so they should be afraid, it’s terribly pessimistic thinking,” he explained as he wobbled on the stone ledge, barely the width of his foot.

His wolf friend whined at him, a sharp sort of sound that was a bit of a warning.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m perfectly fine!” He reassured, twisting to look back at the beast and slipping. Newt crashed onto his side into the water, deep enough to fully submerge him for a moment. He sat up, head popping up, lily pads and water plants clinging to his one shoulder.

The wolf was one paw in the water already, climbing over the ledge hurriedly. It paused when Newt sat up though, ears twitching as if asking if he was ok.

“I’m fine,” he reassured, standing up on the slippery fountain bottom and carefully stepping out of it. 

“A bit of karma I’d say. I should know better,” Newt mused lightly, pulling off his soaked shirt and wringing it out.

“It is refreshing though,” he added, feeling the warm breeze on his skin. It was a hot August night and the water really did feel nice. Newt was barefoot so he stripped off his shirt and pants. He had a summer union suit on under them, sleeveless and cut high on his thighs. It was made of a light material and utterly see-through soaked as it was. Newt looked back to the house and there were no lights on or anything. No one really knew of his evening walks so he supposed no one would be out in the gardens at night.

“I imagine I’d be in a whole world of trouble if I was caught like this,” Newt told his wolf as he stripped down to his bare skin. He wrung out all his clothing and set them over trimmed bushes to dry in the summer heat. Once that was done he settled down in the grass, hiding under the cover of the trees, just in case.

“A boy once told me that If I didn’t talk so much, I’d be pretty,” he confessed quietly to his friend. The wolf never minded when Newt’s conversations jumped around with his thoughts. He sat on his backside and peered down at his legs. They were still very thin and knobby like a colt's legs would be.

The wolf grumbled and Newt smiled at him, he seemed displeased.

“Yes well, he wasn’t a very nice sort. But he had dark hair and wore it like Mr. Graves, he looked a bit like him. Could you blame me?”

The wolf huffed and Newt nodded, certain the beast was agreeing.

“I’m behind on all this couple nonsense. Everyone at school was very concerned with who was kissing who and how far which girl would go. I can barely tell when someone tolerates me. Half the time they have to say something mean for me to realize I’m bothering them. I’m really not good at understanding people.”

Newt brought up his knees and hugged them, beginning to feel a bit cold in the night air. His wolf came closer, sitting beside Newt and then shifting to lay down. Newt followed him, laying on his side facing the fluffy warm wolf and snuggling in.

“Thank you, I do appreciate it.”

The wolf huffed, looking out over the garden to make sure there was no danger.

“I don’t mind not understanding people, if it means I know creatures better, you all make far more sense. You’re not out to stir up trouble either, I do appreciate that. I’ve been the butt of many school jokes.”

The wolf sniffed at his hair in concern and Newt just sighed.

“People can be very cruel,” he said simply. The wolf’s fur was so nice and warm, it presence very calming. Newt didn’t mean to but he found himself dozing off, curled up against his very dear friend.

He woke to a wet nose prodding his cheek. A wet warm tongue ran up his face, sniffing and licking again. Newt turned away, snuggling into the warmth more. Another lick ran over his shoulder and after a moment his bed shifted under him. Newt whined as it got up and made him sit up as well. Rubbing sleep from his eyes he blinked up at his wolf. The sky was turning pink behind its head and Newt woke up more to the realization he had fallen asleep.

“Oh dear,” Newt muttered, pulling his clothing off the bushes, long dry, and getting dressed hurriedly.

“Jacob will be awake already, so will Queenie,” he winced as his mind tried to plan how to get into the house and up the stairs without being seen. “Mr. Graves might be waking soon as well; this could be rather embarrassing.”

Newt’s wolf followed him through the garden.

When Newt would have crossed the main path to reach the side door, the wolf gently tugged on his shirt. Newt paused and a moment later, Queenie walked by with a basket, going to the vegetable garden no doubt.

Smiling gratefully, Newt waved at his friend as he slipped off. Jacob was in the kitchen and Newt very gently but swiftly climbed the stairs in the main hall. Once he reached the top he hightailed it to his room, opening and closing the door was great care, watching Mr. Graves’ bedroom door for any sign he was about to come through.

Newt’s door clicked close and he leaned against it, letting out a deep breath.

He nearly jumped right to the roof when someone knocked on his door.

“Newt? Are you waking soon?” Mr. Graves called softly. Newt flailed a bit, taking large steps to cross the room to his bed, he couldn’t answer from the other side of the door.

“Y-yes, sir. I’m just going to bathe first.”

“Alright, we’ll see you at breakfast.”

“A-alright,” he echoed and listened to the man’s footsteps as he walked away. Newt flopped onto his bed and thanked Merlin the man hadn’t wanted to come in.


It was his break next summer when Newt made true friends with the hodag.

When he went for a walk and settled back into life at the manor, Newt noticed the beast still prowling the forest.

It lifted its head at him, scenting the air as Newt waved at it. He was sure it had a level of thought and reasoning. Because no one had ever mentioned seeing it around but it didn’t try and hide from Newt. As if it knew he was no threat to it. He watched it slink off into the bushes and wondered if he could learn more about it.


“You’ve gotten taller,” Mr. Graves commented that evening and Newt blinked at him. They’re walking together to the dining room and he realized the man was right. Newt was almost as tall as him now. He wasn't as broad though, still a skinny twig in comparison to the man’s sleek bulk and muscle.

“Tina say’s I’m growing like a weed,” he blundered and the man smirked a touch, nodding his head.

“Queenie told Jacob to make he feeds me well this summer as well,” he added pointlessly, fumbling with conversation still. He wished he could be more calmer around the man but Newt doubted that the one-sided adoration he feels will ever completely fade.

“Queenie had been fretting a lot this summer, I’ve only been home a few weeks really.”

Mr. Graves hummed in agreement, he waved a hand and the chairs pushed from the table and the dishes begin to serve themselves. The man knows Newt’s tastes well enough to know what he’ll want and what he’ll dislike. They’re alone together and Newt could see the man looking at Newt in consideration.

“Have you by chance noticed anything new about her?”

Newt paused, thinking carefully. Mr. Graves likes to do this, ask simple questions that are really little tests. So Newt tried to dig up anything in his mind about the woman that was different. She remained just as bright and bubbly, looked the same as ever. Newt thought of her yesterday, fingers tugging absently at her necklace as she talked about Newt’s school year while Jacob made them scones.

“A…necklace?” He hesitated, it seems wrong but it’s the only thing. She’d been wearing the same one since he returned and it’s not like her. She changed jewellery to match her clothing. Most of the time she just looked after the house but when they had visitors or she had to go out on some chores for Mr. Graves she would dress up even more. She had still worn the necklace even then.

The man nodded his head in positive, looking pleased and Newt tried not to preen.

“It’s very special, she had to request permission to make it.”

“What is it?” Newt watched a ladle tip gravy over his meat, his plate brimming with food. He doubted he could eat it all really but everyone was feeding him up it seemed.

“It’s a charm of sorts, a block of her natural gifts.”

“Her Legilimency?” His gaze cut to the simple gold ring Mr. Graves wore. It was specially made to help him with occlumency to block Queenie and others from learning important MACUSA secrets. 

The man nodded again, taking a bite of his meal and Newt followed suit.

“While it is her gift, there have been signs that the natural ability is drawing her magic and putting a strain on her body, a slight one, but a strain.”

“Is she ok?” Newt hadn’t heard anything about this, no one had mentioned anything to him and he felt uneasy. Why hadn’t anyone told him in their letters? Was Queenie ill?

“Perfectly fine,” Mr. Graves assured and Newt tried to push the worry back down. “But she would like to conceive and the necklace is to help her body balance its magical output. To increase the chance.”

Newt blinked in surprise. Jacob had mentioned something about trying for a child he realized. Newt hadn’t understood they were having any trouble though.

“It’s not because…” he hesitated.

“Jacob’s status as a squib has no known effects on his ability to have a family. Many born from magic without it have gone on to sire magical children or descendants.”

“I hope everything works out for them, they would make good parents,” Newt declared and Mr. Graves nodded in agreement.

Newt offered a smile and the man returned it. When his gaze dropped to Newt’s face, he noticed right away and felt his face heat. Mr. Graves reached out and Newt’s heart began to pound at the unexpected action. His fingers felt warm and smooth against Newt’s chin. But then the man gently wiped Newt’s mouth, the corner of lip. His thumb came away with a smear of gravy.

“Oh, t-thank you,” he made himself say, feeling flustered and foolish. Newt looked to his plate and focused on the meal, trying to stamp out his embarrassment.


“Honestly, who feels the need to touch themselves just because someone wiped their face for them?” Newt sighed out, feeling morose. 

His wolf huffed, nosing his arm in reply. Newt was laid out on his stomach beside a fountain that was level with the ground. He dragged his fingers through the water and could see the faint glow of the water bugs swimming around.

“I had to hide in my room right after, I kissed two different boys at school and one put his hands all over me and all I could think of was Mr. Graves. It’s getting pathetic,” he ridiculed himself. Rolling onto his back made his shoulder collide with the wolf but the beast didn’t mind, sniffing at his face lightly.

“You’d think I’d learned by now, to move on and find someone suitable.”

The summer air had a bit of a chill but not enough to bother Newt with his wolf close by throwing heat like a furnace.

“I’ll finish school next year and then I’ll be expected to find work. Theseus wants me to return to London. Part of me wants to go very badly. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him properly. Floo calls just aren’t the same. Theseus said he has a nice apartment now and he can afford a better one, with a room for me. Mr. Graves hasn’t said anything either. Jacob told me he hoped I would stay though. Tina thought I could work with her, if I wanted, that she would teach me more about hippogriffs and winged horses.”

Newt looked out over the gardens, the hedged all trimmed neatly by spells. The top of the manor house peeking over the trees.

“I would miss this place terribly. I do love and miss Theseus, but I don’t know how I would cope if I weren’t to see this place again. Would I make a good stable boy?”

The wolf huffed at him, as if the very idea was silly.

“I could,” Newt replied, mildly insulted. “Mr. Graves might not like it though; I think he hoped I would do something more. To be a proper magizoologist I would need more training though. I’d never be able to pay for such a thing. It wouldn’t be right to ask anyone else either. The whole point of me coming over to be educated was in the hope I would stay anyway, America wants more wizards.”

Newt idly stroked his fingers through his wolf's thick fur, wondering how he survived the August heat.

“I’ve a year to decide many things, I feel like it’s far too little time.”

The wolf sat up, alerting Newt. He blinked and rolled onto his stomach to scan the area. Off to the far side, right on the edge of the garden, was the hodag, watching them.

“Oh, that’s only one of my forest friends,” Newt tried to reassure the wolf but he refused to be calmed, hair fluffing up angrily as his lip curled to show his teeth. His gaze was locked on the other beast, who was pacing nervously but watching them both intently.

“I’m sure it’s fine, he’s just getting used to me. We’ve been visiting more this year.”

Newt jerked back when the wolf took off. From sitting there into a sudden furious speed that was unexpected. The hodag disappeared into the trees but the wolf was in hot pursuit. Newt dearly hoped they wouldn’t fight.

He waited as long as he could but the wolf didn’t return, worrying Newt.

He went back into the house late into the night and changed for bed, still checking out his window for the wolf.


“Have you been going out into the woods?” Something about the question is curt and Newt blinked. Mr. Graves was peering at the morning paper and didn't seem upset.

“I…” Newt hesitated to lie; the man was very good at knowing when Newt tired too. “A few times, since I’ve been home.”

“Stop for now then, there was a report on something attacking mooncalves at a farm on the other side of the forest.”

Newt swallowed a worried comment, thinking for his friend in the woods. Either the wolf or the hodag.

“Newt?” Mr. Graves inquired when he didn’t answer and Newt tipped his head up quickly, nodding obediently. The man gazed at him for a moment.

“Honestly, just a week please. The forest will have traps laid out to catch whatever it was. Please be safe?”

Newt nodded again, feeling bad because he knew he would go back now. To find the traps and protect the poor creatures.


“Mr. Graves sure was surly this weekend,” Queenie commented on Monday stirring her coffee as she pulled a scone from the plate of them. Breakfast was warm and filling, the backdoor to the gardens opened to let the morning sunlight in.

“Really? He seemed fine. We talked about the possibility of expanding the stables,” Tina replied.

“Really?” Newt couldn’t help but ask.

Tina shrugged one shoulder.

“We never took on much before you came honestly. Then you were bringing back injured creatures and spending so much time with the hippogriffs. Mr. Graves opened the parts of the stables we didn’t use and then the winged horses came. Most creatures don’t stay but we get a lot through here now. I’m pretty sure Credence and I could pass the exam to be licenced magizoologists.”

Credence ducked his shoulder a bit but smiled warmly at the woman. He was still a bit nervous but much more relaxed than when he first arrived. He and Tina worked well together and seemed to get on very well.

“Anyway,” she continued after a bit of bacon. “He said we should look into doing it officially, like a rescue or sanctuary. Hire on a few hands and bring in someone more qualified to oversee it. He asked if I wanted schooling for it but I’d rather someone who knows already come here. I can’t imagine travelling somewhere for years. I might miss something important.”

Tina winked at her sister and Queenie giggled, reaching to absently touch her necklace. Newt really did hope she would have a baby, she clearly wanted to and would be such a perfect mother.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Credence added softly, his voice always so gentle. “We’ll need to hire new people, probably next year.”

Everyone shared knowing looks and Newt pondered what Credence meant by it.

“Oh, Newt, Mr. Graves mentioned reminding you to keep clear of the forest. Something dangerous has been lurking about.”

Newt nodded his head quickly, glad for a mouthful of food so he didn’t have to reply. Even with her necklace, Queenie could pick up on outright lies.


There indeed were traps set up. They weren’t cruel thankfully, just the sort to capture and hold creatures. Newt set them off with a few stones or twigs. He knew if he disabled or damaged them, Mr. Graves would know it was him right away. Better to play it off as a smart creature and leave a bit of room for doubt.

Newt didn’t walk long before he found his friend. The hodag was nervous, pacing uneasily with a notable limp. Worried, Newt carefully got closer. He realized the poor thing was hurt, his back leg gashed with a bite mark.

It must have been the wolf.

That right jerk.

“I’m sorry, you poor fellow,” Newt offered as he edged closer. He wished he had his wand and was allowed to use it. It would help a great deal more.

“I only want to help you, I promise,” he coaxed the beast, watching it pace and whine at him. Newt had brought a few ferrets from the hippogriff feed and that seemed to win him over. The hodag nervous at first as it snatched the first one and ate quickly. The second it took with more confidence and when Newt rested a hand on it’s back, it let him. Watching Newt but more focused on eating than anything.

There wasn’t much to work with, Newt had brought some clean rags and healing potions. So he soaked them into the cloth and managed to very gently wrap it around the hodag’s leg. The beast jerked at the first touch but then remained still. Its red eyes stared at Newt but seemed to understand he was helping him.

“Will you be ok?” he asked softly and the creature tipped its head, as if it understood. There was a keen intelligence in those eyes Newt thought.

As he worked, the hodag sniffed at his hair and shoulder, scenting Newt. He let him as he pleased, more worried about getting the cloth to stay tied long enough for the potions to heal.

It surprised him when the creature licked his neck.

“Oh, no need for thanks,” he assured. The beast seemed very friendly now, pushing up against Newt and sniffing at him.

“What are you looking for? Can you smell my wolf?”

“Just a moment more, there,” Newt sat back, the makeshift bandage on now. The hodag sniffed at it and appeared unconcerned with the new addition thankfully.

“Even a few hours will make a great difference, you know.”

It shifted its head, giving its lithe body a shake before it looked back at Newt.

It circled him again, seeming very curious about him. Newt watched as the creature flopped down and rubbed on the ground, long horns gleaming on its head. It’s forked tongue scented the air over and over.

“Is something wrong?”

The hodag kept moving, jumping around like a playful pup, scenting and rubbing its horns on the ground and on trees.

It followed Newt home.

All the way back into the gardens. He finally managed to shoo it away before he got too close to the house. The last thing he needed was a beast from the forest following him home. Newt hesitated to think of the trouble he would get in for that.

It was already growing late so Newt went up to bed early, stopping in the library to pick up a few books.

Once he was scrubbed clean and prepared, he slid into bed and cracked open the first book. There were a few passages on hodags but nothing to explain the behaviour. Newt chewed his lip and read over it a few more times, looking for something. The second was more helpful, if embarrassing. Sharing food was apparently a courting habit.

It seemed odd that the creature would mistake Newt for a fellow hodag, much less a female, but it did make a bit of sense. The dancing before could have been a mating dance, rubbing his horns to mark the area. Perhaps he was young and didn’t realize Newt was a different species and the same gender. Perhaps he didn’t care?

Newt looked over the book and read a passage about mating habits similar to wolves, shared meals and grooming, scenting to decide readiness and finally mounting. They would knot together for up to half an hour.

Newt flushed red, unable to imagine such a thing happening to him. What was that poor hodag thinking? That Newt would just let him…mount him and tie inside him.

How utterly ridiculous.

How inappropriate.


Of course, the thoughts lingered. Newt was terrible at keeping strange thoughts out of his head. He liked to know things and the idea of creature breeding was still very much speculation. Would the hodag actually knot or was it misinformation? What would a knot even feel like?

“Are you paying attention?” Newt’s tutor, Mr. Felten asked and he snapped to attention with a rush of shame.

“Sorry,” Newt apologised and the man frowned but let it go. Over the summers Newt was tutored during the weekdays to give him a head start over other students. He did well in his classes and so he supposed it was a good thing to learn a bit about the material beforehand. He never scrambled like other students did sometimes. If there was something he struggled with, he usually had gone over it during the previous summer. Usually, his main trouble was wand work, since he couldn’t use one outside of the school. But Mr. Graves would help him, guiding him through the motions.

Newt made himself pay attention and then went to help in the stables. Using a pitchfork to change out the straw in some of the stalls. A few hippogriffs reacted poorly to magic being used to they had to do it by hand.

“See, all better,” Newt told the beast with a fond smile. It shuffled in from the outside door, tossing the fresh straw in its beak, inspecting it.

Newt looked down the empty hall of stalls. It was odd that Tina wasn’t there already. Newt had come out early but she was usually already working when he arrived to help. Leaving the hippogriff to scrutinize the straw he walked down to where the little office was. He needed to tell Tina he changed it already or she might do it again not realizing.

When he turned the corner he froze in place, the door of the office was almost closed all the way, just a thin sliver showing. Newt could see someone moving. He stared a bit before realizing what he was looking at.

Heat poured down his face and he quickly fumbled back a step. Head down, he very quickly left the stables. Newt avoided the kitchen doors and went around the front.

“Newt, sweetie?” Queenie called when he was almost at the top of the stairs. “Are you alright? Mr. Felton said you were off today.”

“Feeling a bit ill, I’m going to l-lie down for a bit,” he called back.

“Do you need a potion?”

“I’ve got one left up in my room, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Newt closed his door and rested his back against it. Humiliated to have stumbled on something so private. He’d never be able to look at Tina or Credence again.

He closed his eyes and the image came again, Tina leaned over her work desk and Credence right behind her, pressing up close. Her shirt hung down to hide everything but Newt had seen bare thighs, had seen the way Credence was pushing up against her.

They’d been having sex.

Newt’s whole face burned and he felt an uncomfortable throb in his trousers.

He stumbled to his bed, kicking off his shoes and undressing from the waist down before sliding into the bed and under the covers.

His cock ached, hard and eager but Newt didn’t want to touch himself thinking of his friends. The image burned though and Newt desperately tried to change it. He thought of himself bent over a desk, someone behind him. Mr. Graves sure hands running on his thighs, holding onto him like Credence had held onto Tina. Pulling her hips back to meet his own.

Newt put a hand behind himself, reaching to rub at his backside. His finger skimmed over his hole and he touched a bit roughly. He thought of Mr. Graves’s against his back, whispering words in his ear as he pressed into him. Newt whined into his pillow.

His mind was a jumble of thoughts, he stroked his cock and wondered about the hodag suddenly. The great big beast on his back, pushing up into him.

The dirty bad wrong sensation of it flooded Newt and the image of Tina and Credence was pushed away. Newt thought of the feel of fur on his back, of paws on his middle. Of a fat knot trying to get into him.

He gasped out weakly. Pushing his finger more insistently. When it sank in his cock twitched and spilt over his hand. Newt shoved against his palm as his orgasm rocked through him. He finished slowly, lying there under the bed with a sticky hand and all sort of dirty things in his head.

Newt cleaned off and played sick for dinner, Queenie leaving him some soup and a Pepper Up potion. He was terribly glad for her necklace now, as she didn’t seem to pick up on what Newt had accidentally seen.

Tina was a very nice woman and a good friend, Credence was too. Newt was just surprised; Credence was closer to Newt’s age than he was to Tina. There would unquestionably be some scandal there, people would talk when it came out. But Newt hoped it worked out for them, that they were both happy.

Still, he hoped to avoid them for a bit. That or think of a reason to be suddenly embarrassed.

Deciding to take a shower, Newt left his bed and stripped down. With a blush, he took the bottle of oil with him. He’d made it himself, the boys at Ilvermorny all knew it. A simple potion used to…well masturbate. It made everything slick.

Newt stood under the hot water and touched himself again. Rubbing into the wet heat of the oil on his hand. He thought of what he saw, of Mr. Graves taking him. But the feeling came with guilt, for thinking of Tina and Credence’s private moment and of Mr. Graves in such a base way. The hodag was far more taboo but it felt less shameful. Newt pressed oiled fingers to his backside, rubbing around the rim until it was slicked up. He eased in two fingers with care. He’d done this before, many times. He’d thought of his guardian mostly, of Mr. Graves kissing and touching him. It felt dirty now, wrong to think of him after seeing his other friends as he had. Newt sucked in uneven breathes, thinking of the hodag and how it would mate him, how it would tie with him to try and breed him.

He shivered as he came, body clenching down on his fingers.

Newt stumbled from the shower, drying off his hair with a towel as he padded across his room. He looked out the windows and started to see the hodag in the gardens, sneaking about, clearly looking for something.

“Oh dear,” Newt muttered, face red as he went to dress.


“You really mustn’t be here,” he greeted the beast. “Mr. Graves will be very upset with you.”

The beast peered at him, perking up as is came closer to him, skirting around his legs and bumping Newt’s hip with its head.

“I think you might be confused,” Newt began, wondering how to explain the misunderstanding. The hodag threw its head back playfully, jumping about and Newt couldn’t help but smile.

“That’s very nice. I fine dance I assure you.”

Newt glanced back at the house and then started walking along the trees, the night hiding him as he coaxed the beast infatuated with him away from the gardens.

“You mustn’t come back, my wolf lives around these parts and well, I fear what he’ll do if he catches you again.”

The cloth was gone from the hodag’s back leg but the bite marks looked healed. Newt knelt and let the creature circle him as he peered in the weak light, looking to see the leg truly was fine.

The position didn’t occur to him until the beast was jumping on his back, pushing Newt forward.

Eye’s going wide, he sputtered as the beast… humped at his backside.

Newt fumbled to get out from under him but the hodag had a good grip. The sudden hard poke made Newt jerk and his face burned as he felt… it’s phallus pushing against his arse. Over and over, he prodded excitedly. His long tongue flicking over Newt’s ear as his chin rested on his neck.

He knew better, he really did. But it wasn’t a bad sensation. Newt was still wet and open from his fingers and all he had to do was push down his trousers.

Merlin, he really was a pervert. Newt swallowed a gulp of air and his poor cock throbbed.

Get up, he told himself but he stayed down.

Newt shivered as he reached for his trousers, the button popping and the cloth moving.

“Oh dear, you mustn’t, no one can know…”

Newt let his trousers slip down. He hadn’t put on a union suit since he’s only meant to shoo the creature to safety.

Before he could rethink the hodag’s wet cock was pressing to his hole, squirming to where it needed to be. When it thrust up, the tip went in and Newt cried out. The creature gave him no time to adjust though. More and more went into his body, the length leaving its sheath to bury into Newt. He tried to be quiet in case someone heard but when he muffled his sounds he could hear a wet lewd sound each time the beast thrust into him.

Newt felt tears burn in his eyes, humiliation warring with pleasure. It did feel good, the friction was delightful and the full feeling nothing like he expected. Far more then his own fingers had ever brought.

Too soon, the hodag slowed down. Newt whined, hips still swaying. But the cock inside didn’t move anymore. When the beast shifted on top of him it pulled and Newt felt white hot pain pull at his hole. He scrambled quickly, reaching back with his hands to grab its hind legs and keep it close. His shoulders sank to the ground and Newt rested his head in the cool grass. His breath came fast but slowed as he adjusted to all the new things he was feeling.

The full sensation inside his arse, the faint throbbing of the cock inside him. The hodag was coming inside him, knotted in Newt and now filling him up. Is was a terrible dirty thing and Newt’s cock was pulsing with need.

When the creature over him seemed to settle, Newt let go one hand cautiously and reached to take his cock in hand. It barely needed more than a few strokes before he came with a shudder.

It seemed like forever, tied to the hodag. Newt tried to keep an eye out for anyone but the position facedown in the grass limited him.

There was no real warning when the creature pulled off. It just lunged suddenly and Newt yelped at the burn of it as the long cock came free from his body.

His hole felt so wide open, like it might never close completely again, it was a strange feeling, or pain and pleasure together. Newt trembled as he reached back and ran quivering fingers over his poor abused rim.

The hodag was cleaning itself, the long length shining in the weak light. The knot was a thick bulb at the end of the red cock. It looked very large and thick, something that couldn’t have possibly been in Newt. He felt a dizzy spill of shame and pride that it had been inside him somehow.

It took an hour to get the beast to leave him and go back into the forest.

The entire time Newt could feel a warm wet trickle down his thigh. Semen dripping out of his body.

He went to his room and showered again, fingering his sore hole to try and get it all out of him. He couldn’t spend the day tomorrow with hodag semen coming out of him. He just couldn’t.

Feeling utterly exhausted, he took a potion for aches and pains and curled up with a pillow, falling asleep quickly.

“Are you sure you’re feeling ok?” Queenie asked again and Newt nodded, knowing his face was red. Tina and Credence seemed to think nothing was amiss though, Jacob seemed amused.

“Come on now, darling. He says he’s fine. Newt’s not a lad anymore, nearly a man!” He teased lightly and Queenie smiled and finally let up. Newt kept his head down and ate breakfast.

He did his work with his tutor but couldn’t have told anyone a single thing he learned. His backside was tender and every time he shifted, he could feel it. He went to the stables and helped as he usually did once his studying was done.

“Perhaps call it an early day?” Tina suggested kindly. “You really do look a bit peaky.”

“Don’t tell Queenie? She’ll worry,” he requested and the older woman gave him a wink and nod.

Newt went to bed without dinner again, Wibbly brought him a plate and a few potions for headaches and minor things.

“Thank you,” he told the house elf and watched her snap her fingers. Newt’s old stuffed niffler floated from a shelf and into his lap.

“To help you feel better,” she announced and Newt smiled, touched at the gesture.

“Of course, thank you again,” he told her as he hugged the tiny ragged thing to his chest fondly. The sight of it made him think of his parents and Newt could see them clearly still, their reassuring smiles that soothed the unease in his chest. It inspired him to floo call Theseus and his brother answered. They spent the evening talking back and forth, Theseus was an auror now and doing very well. He had endless funny stories of petty criminals he caught and Newt was glad for the distraction.

“How have you been Newt?” Theseus’ face asked him and he blinked.

“I’m fine, I’m a bit under the weather and I missed you,” he confessed and his brother smiled up at him.

“I miss you too, you know Mr. Graves wrote to me and thought maybe I could come visit you this summer.”

“What? Really,” Newt grinned brightly and leaned closer to the fireplace. “Can you truly?”

“We’re getting the paperwork in order and I’ve gotten a week off in August. I think it was supposed to be a surprise though.”

“I don’t mind, oh Theseus, I’d love to see you!”

“Me too, Newt, me too.”


Newt went to bed, thinking about his brother and seeing him again. He faced in looking at the bedroom wall rather than looking outside the windows as he usually did. There was a deep well of shame in his gut that bit at Newt’s heels all day. But worse then that, there was something lingering in him, something that was curious for more.


Keeping his head down, Newt used a fake illness to avoid everyone as much as he could. He didn’t go out for evening walks and felt terrible for it but he knew he shouldn’t. Such things weren’t right. He was meant to help magical creatures, not let them… do such things to him.

So he resolved his nerves and made it through the week.

Friday arrived and Mr. Graves arrived back for dinner. He told Newt about Theseus visiting and Newt thanked the man gratefully. He was beyond delighted with the idea of seeing Theseus again, to hold him in his arms once more. Newt’s tutor had noticed his lack of focus and, of course, Queenie reported his illness to his guardian.

“How are you feeling?” Mr. Graves asked and Newt flushed.

“Much better,” he assured him and the older man reached out, his warm hand sliding under Newt’s bangs to rest against his brow and check his temperature. Mr. Graves leaned in to do so and Newt could smell his fine cologne. He cast his eyes down and stared at the way the man’s trousers pulled against his thigh, outlining it. Newt made his eyes look away before he could stare at the man’s crotch like some pervert.

“You’re a little warm,” Mr. Graves decided and leaned back in his chair. “I’ll brew up a potion, something to help you get better quickly.”

“That would be very nice, Mr. Graves.”

“You’re almost of age now Newt, you’ve lived with me for over seven years. I think you can call me Percival.”

Newt chewed his lower lip at the way the man smiled at him, something private and warm.

“Percival,” he tested out on his lips, the name feeling odd after so many years of Mr. Graves.

“Newton,” Percival replied easily and Newt felt a shy smile pull on his lips in answer.


When he went to lay down for a bit, Newt fingered himself. He thought of the way the man had smiled at him. He thought of calling him Percival as he pushed up into Newt. Taking him like the hodag had. 


“…Seen it in the gardens a few times. Newt’s stayed in mostly being sick thankfully.” Newt stopped dead at the study door, immediately eavesdropping. Tina was talking with Mr. Graves-Percival, reporting the week likely.

“It hasn’t gotten near the stables but Queenie thought she saw something in the vegetable garden one morning. So it’s certainly here and hanging around.”

Percival hummed, his tone not at all pleased.

“We’ll have to set out traps to catch and relocate it. It can’t stay. The reports suggest something distinctly dark about it. Newt will try to make friends and end up maimed for it,” he huffed and it stung. That he thought Newt was that much of a fool, that he didn’t think he could manage himself around creatures. He was seventeen and almost a man, he would be of age next year. Did Mr. Graves really think that little of him.

Red-faced, Newt crept away and went out the side doors of the house, checking the vegetable garden before creeping into the main gardens to look for the hodag. He would lure it away, take it somewhere far enough that no one would hurt it.

He wasn’t a child.

The beast appeared for him, trotting to his side as soon as he called out to it. Newt led the way and it followed quickly. The forest was dark but Newt knew it well. He took his friend deep into the woods and far from the manor. He headed west where the forest would just go on and on for miles. The moonlight lit his path as the forest began to become unfamiliar. He’d never walked this deep at night, not without someone with him and during the day.

But the hodag was following and that was what really mattered.

It kept bumping his hip and sniffing his behind but Newt pushed its snout away.

“None of that. I am not a female hodag. You are going to be so embarrassed when you find a proper one,” he lectured lightly, peering up at the moon and worrying the tiniest bit about his sudden decision. Perhaps he had been an upset with Percival’s words and not thought this through properly.

Newt jumped when the hodag nosed his backside hard, sniffing insistently.

It was such a terrible idea abut Newt felt the stirring in his belly. Hodags didn’t mate for life so Newt could let him have a go and then send him on his way. Newt was well versed in apperation and while he might be a bit lost, he could very easily picture the manor is vast detail. Technically he wasn’t supposed to do it, but Newt could claim he was lost in the forest at night and had seen something dangerous.

“We really shouldn’t,” Newt mumbled to himself, even as he let himself go down to his knees.

The hodag began to get excited, jumping about happily and rubbing its horns on the dirt.

Newt watched it, noting the behaviour to record later. He undid his trousers with nervous fingers, pushing the material down over his backside. As soon as he bent over, the hodag came in close, sniffing at him, tongue flickering over Newt’s bared skin.

He mounted quickly and just like last time, it only took a few jabs to find Newt’s hole. He cried out when it entered, he had fingered himself but not as thoroughly as last time. It burned as the beast shoved into him. Newt clenched his teeth and adjusted to the ache as the creature shoved at him. It held his middle tightly and pounded away, hot breath puffing on Newt’s neck.

It felt good again, the rough motions and the friction inside him.

Newt began to relax into the mating, letting the pleasure wash over his body.

Its teeth closed on the back of Newt's neck, long fangs dragging over his skin. It was a dangerous thrill and Newt whimpered for it.

The hodag suddenly jerked away, making a horrid noise.

Newt fell to the ground and scrambled away, his legs caught in his trousers. Everything happened so fast, fur and teeth snapping in a blur. Two great beasts fighting viciously. Curling up against a tree, Newt felt helpless to do anything. But without a wand, he couldn’t interfere.

The poor hodag was beaten down, the wolf overpowering him and far more intelligent, backing the other beast up so it was cornered and slamming it into trees, smashing it between the unyielding wood and its own body. 

“Please stop,” Newt cried when they paused, the hodag whining in pain and the wolf intent on him. “Please,” Newt called and the wolf’s gaze snapped to him.

It looked infuriated, everything about it giving off anger.

“Come here, please,” Newt called softly, trying to keep his voice gentle.

The hodag scrambled up and took off, a dead run away from them. The wolf’s ears twitched, knowing it was running but it kept his eyes locked on Newt.

“That was so cruel of you, he doesn’t know better. Be mad at me,” he explained, voice wet with sobs. The last thing Newt wanted was any creature getting hurt because of him.

His wolf growled, stepping towards Newt and he lifted his chin to meet it. He didn’t meet its dominant gaze but he refused to be cowed. His wolf wouldn’t hurt him, it was a sentient creature and Newt had known him for years now. 

The beast closed the distance and sniffed at Newt, still giving off anger as it scented his hair and neck. Its head tipped and it pushed at his hip. Newt ignored the obvious signal and for it, a paw shoved him over roughly. On his side, his wet backside was exposed and Newt whined when the wolf began to lick him.

It laid down, one paw on Newt’s thigh to hold him as it began to very methodically clean him. Its tongue felt nothing like the hodag had. It was wide and flat, and he licked with more pressure, Newt could feel every single lap on his skin. Red-faced he pressed his head into the wet dirt and grass and just laid there.

The wolf tipped its great head to reach deeper and Newt whined as it went over his balls and cock, the wet heat startling. He listened to the wet sounds as the tongue pushed at his hole, trying to get inside him. It pushed insistently, trying different angles to force its way inside.

Newt reached between his thighs, fingers trembling. The wolf sniffed at them but let him do as he pleased. The anger about him was fading now. Newt pressed a finger into himself and then a second. When he spread them the wolf was there, licking into him.

Sucking in uneven breathes, Newt’s cock twitched hard again as he experienced a tongue up inside him. It was so different from his fingers, nothing like them really. He couldn’t anticipate the touches so they all made him jerk in reaction.

The paw lifted off his leg and Newt blinked as the wolf got back up. It sniffed at his backside and nosed him, wanting him to roll onto his stomach.

“That’s a t-terrible idea. I’ve already…I shouldn’t have…”

Newt jolted when the wolf nipped his backside. Not enough to really hurt but an unexpected pinch. He turned on his belly and whimpered as the wolf licked at him again. His thighs spread on their own, his trousers confining him from giving the beast full access.

He felt the hot breath leave his arse and it panted over his neck and hair, nosing his ear gently.

Newt looked up, peering at the wolf who watched him patiently.

It wasn’t like the hodag. This wolf was smart, like a person. It was asking, Newt realized.

His wolf licked his face and nuzzled his hair and Newt’s heart twisted fondly.

“Ok,” he whispered. “I’m very new to this, so please go easy.”

Newt got up on his hands and knees.

He could feel the wolf above him, his stomach pressing into Newt’s back. It made him realize how much bigger the wolf was than the hodag.

Shivering in a twisted anticipation, Newt felt a paw close on his hip as the wolf stepped closer.

Tipping his arse up, Newt felt the wet pointed tip brush along his spit smeared skin. It prodded gently and Newt adjusted his position so it pressed where it needed to. When he felt it sink he swallowed a sound and tried to relax. The paw closed tight on his middle and yanked Newt back.

He whined out, a loud long thing as he felt the wolf fill him.

It was much bigger the the hodag and Newt struggled to take the length of it. The wolf’s other paw lifted to grip his side as well, holding Newt tightly. Its head rested over his own and it whined, almost in apology before it began to ram home into him.

Newt felt overstuffed but was helpless to do anything. The wolf was very much stronger than him, yanking Newt back into each thrust.

Little sounds, repetitive ‘uh, uh,’ kept falling from his mouth, growing louder every second. Newt’s knees were shaking and the wolf was hitting something inside him that made his whole body light up. Over and over, the friction and rubbing overwhelmed Newt in a way that had never happened before.

Newt dropped his head down, letting it jerk with each powerful lunge and he sobbed out. His whole body throbbing it felt like.

The knot pulled on his hole, a white-hot pain for a brief second and Newt came with a choked cry. His semen spilling in the dirt as the wolf slammed its knot into him. He arched away from it, trying to get away but he pulled him down and pushed up, not letting Newt escape. It went in with a sudden motion and Newt sobbed at the feeling of it, his poor hole aching but the knot feeling so big inside him. It felt so massive, like nothing before.

Newt felt dizzy with it and when the paws on his stomach eased, he slumped into the dirt, his arse held up high, hanging off that knot inside it.

“You’ve wrecked me,” Newt whispered. “How am I supposed to have a man when I know how this feels,” he muttered. It felt intense and too much and he was sore all over but Newt had never known anything could feel this good.

His wolf sniffed his hair and licked his neck affectionately. Cleaning any skin he could reach. Newt turned his head to the side and let the wolf groom him. It ran its tongue over his mouth like an obscene kiss and Newt shivered as he opened his mouth and let it lick there as well.

The knot pulsed in his arse and Newt shivered at the sensation of it.


It seemed like they stayed tied for hours, Newt’s whole body overused and aching pleasantly but still aching. He shivered in the cold and barely made a sound as the knot slipped free. He laid in the dirt under his wolf and felt sleep pull at him. The wolf laid down with him and Newt curled into it’s fur and body heat.

Too soon it was moving, wanting him to get up.

“Can’t,” Newt confessed, his legs felt numb, unstable and utterly incapable of holding him up. “Just let me rest for a bit,” he begged, the haze of sleep pulling at him, refusing to be ignored. The wolf nosed at him and nipped at his neck but Newt just couldn’t stay awake.


He woke in his bedroom, the curtains pulled closed. He was clean and dressed in a nightgown. His body felt fine. When Newt sat up his felt an ache in his backside but nothing terrible. His hands had been scratched up but looked fine now. Newt looked to the bedside and found healing potions set out and used.

The door clicked open and Newt jerked, turning to face it. Percival let himself in and closed the door behind him gently.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m…confused,” Newt admitted. “How did I get here?”

Percival frowned and Newt was suddenly certain he was going to say he found him out in the woods, exposed with his wolf beside him. That he knew what Newt had done with the creatures. A great horrid shame-filled Newt’s body and gripped at his chest, claws digging in.

“Are you alright?” Percival asked lowly, reaching out a hand to touch Newt’s brow gently. He didn’t seem disgusted.

“What happened?”

“You fell asleep outside, in the gardens.”

Newt blinked, looking up at the man and meeting his gaze. Percival seemed perfectly serious.

“The… gardens?”

“Yes. And then you wonder why you’ve been so ill. You can’t just sleep on the ground Newt, it’s not healthy.”

He nodded his head weakly.

“I expect it won’t happen again?” There was a pointed question there and Newt nodded again.

“I…I won’t. I didn’t realize…” Newt trailed off, the night before a haze. He had taken then hodag out into the forest, hadn’t he? Had he really mated with his wolf?

“You were very cold and scratched up, I gave you a few potions, they might make you feel a bit dizzy,” Percival told him with an edge of concern. New slumped back into his pillows and the man stepped closer, checking his pulse on his wrist.

“Are you ok Newt?” He asked again, with more urgency and Newt smiled weakly.

“I’m very tired, may I sleep some more?”

“Of course, you gave me a scare Newt, please look after yourself?”

“I’ll try,” he agreed with a yawn and he fluttered his eyes shut. He felt Percival run his fingers through his hair and lean down to press a kiss to his brow.

“Wild thing,” he accused softly and Newt couldn’t disagree.


Everyone was very doting on Newt, he received lectures, talks, and worried questions at first but then everyone seemed to decide to spoil him. Jacob made him his favourite foods and Tina and Credence let him help more with the chores he usually didn’t get to do. Fun things like brushing the winged horses or helping the hippogriff chicks work on wing flapping. Queenie insisted he didn’t study at all that weekend, that he just relaxed.

Percival made more time than usual for Newt. Over the years his work had increased as he moved up in his positions. He was the Director of Security now and that came with weekend work. But he claimed it was fine to leave it be for a weekend. Instead, he walked with Newt through the gardens and they made potions together, Percival was utterly amazing at them and Newt loved to watch him work. The man touched him casually, more so than usual, reaching out to touch Newt’s back or shoulder, leaning in close to talk with him.

Honestly the weekend was a heaven send and Newt felt utterly wonderful when Monday came. He wondered on what had happened, had his wolf brought him home? He must have. How had Percival found him? Had he seen Newt exposed and covered him up? He didn’t act like he had, he didn’t seem upset or uncomfortable around Newt suddenly. Perhaps it was all ok, as long as no one was upset. So Newt enjoyed his weekend and felt like it went by too fast, as if the Monday rushed to meet him.

He was sad to see Percival go that morning and hugged him impulsively. The man accepted it and after a pause, he returned it. They were the only ones in the front room, the floo fireplace waiting to take Percival off to the city to his job.

“Perhaps you should come visit me on Thursday? There’s a restaurant that’s very good, I’ve found it only recently. We could see what the university is exhibiting, I think it might be something on Nundus.”

“I’d love to,” Newt replied warmly, leaning back and his face hurt from smiling so much.

“Alright, I’ll try to sort my work so I can have the evening off,” Percival promised and Newt watched him disappear. His heart felt bright and Newt dove into his studies with a renewed determination.


A few times a month in the summer, Newt would go to the city to visit Percival, since he was a boy. The man had an apartment there where he stayed during the weekdays. So on Thursday after work, Percival would come home and pick Newt up and take him to the city. They’d spend the evening together and Newt would sleep in the guest room of the apartment. He’d wake in the morning alone and explore the apartment library for the day. Once Percival returned from work the would go back to the manor together for the weekend.

Newt went on Thursday and it felt different.

The way Percival smiled at him and how he held his hand against Newt’s back wherever they walked. 

Newt didn’t feel like a little boy with him anymore.

His heart pounded the entire time. It was a shame, the nundu exhibit was likely very fascinating but Newt could barely do anything but watch the man beside him. He bought the book to make up for it. He would read it once he could focus.

They ate somewhere fine and the meal was good, Newt complementing it over and over to see Percival's small smirk, pleased he had picked somewhere Newt enjoyed so much.

When they returned to the apartment, Newt thought it might be perfect. If he could pick his future, it would be this. A life with Percival in it every day. Perhaps if he tried, he could find a way to afford to go to the university in the city. He could live with Percival and see him every day.

Newt had a small allowance, granted to him each month. He used it to buy books and study supplies. Percival would give it to him and not ask about it, insisting Newt do what he wanted with it. Usually, in the summer he ordered potions for the creatures or rare ingredients for Jacob to try. Little things for Queenie and Tina, Credence too. Anything Newt wanted for was provided to him, Percival always giving him little gifts and spoiling him. He never spent it all, bits collected over the years to amount to a healthy bit of money for spending.

So Newt had coin and no one would ask what he did with it.

The wizarding shops street was below the apartment. Newt could look out the window and see wizards and witches going about their days. There were cafes that Newt had eaten at and shops he had been in many times, both with Percival and alone.

So he knew where he was going.

The front end was gifts and books, some of the harder to find sort so Newt had reason to be in there. In through a little cloth hung for privacy, was… indecent things. When no one was in the small room, Newt ducked in. Everything was on shelves and on display and his face heated. Very quickly he selected what he wanted and placed the payment on the magical till by the door. It spit out a receipt and the purchase was wrapped with discreet brown paper, like an everyday package. 

Newt ducked out from under the cloth and no one seemed to notice him. He selected a book on dragons and purchased it as well.

After that, Newt went about his day, looking in the shops for little gifts for everyone. He ate a late lunch and went back to the apartment to read for a bit.

Percival arrived just before dinner and they took the floo back to the manor. Newt set his packages in his room as he washed up for dinner.

He spent the day waiting and was curious and excited to explore.

Once it was late, he bid everyone good night and went to his room. Only after he heard Percival come up and go to his own room did Newt dare to open his new purchase.

It honestly looked like a simple bit of polished wood. Nothing too shameful.

But when Newt picked it up the charm went to work, taking the shape he wanted. Newt’s cheeks went pink as watched it form into a phallus with a knot at the base. With a thought from him, the knot inflated and then went down again. The wood was charmed to take any shape he wanted it too.

Newt set it down and tucked it under a pillow before he went to shower.

Eager, he fingered himself open with plenty of oil, wanting to be able to fit the toy inside himself right away. He didn’t know when sex began to take up so much of his thoughts. Most boys thought of sex he was told and Newt did masturbate regularly. But everything seemed to be shifting, he wanted it more now. Wanted to feel the burn of being opened up.

He dried off quickly, glancing at the bedroom door to double check it was locked.

It was awkward to find the right position on the bed, Newt fumbling and glad he was alone for it. He ended up kneeling on the bed and slowly easing down onto the toy. The round head felt too big, slipping along his rim. Newt was the one controlling it and he found it hard to make himself simply take it. Pushing more and more, he finally managed to just shove down. His body opened up and Newt winced at the pain. Pulling up and off, he flopped on the bed and sighed.

Someone at some point had said it was about relaxing, some student whispering and Newt had overheard. He laid on his back and tried again, hands between his spread thighs as he eased the toy against his hole once more. Everything was slippery but Newt made himself go slower, trying to relax into the pillows. With a thought, the toy shrank smaller.

It finally pushed in again, with less pain this time. The stretch still feeling like it was more than his body should be able to take.

Newt’s breath stuttered as he began to rock the toy in and out, exploring the friction inside himself. The pace and speed changing as he pleased, the angle easy to alter. Newt swallowed noises as his cock throbbed and he moved the toy faster, slapping it in harder, trying to mimic the wolf.

His thighs trembled and his arms ached with the effort, Newt whined as he shoved himself down, wanting to feel that same pleasure.

“Newt?” The soft call came with a knock and Newt nearly hurt himself, yanking the toy out and pulling the covers over his body. He was panting and couldn’t slow his breathing. The doorknob tested and Newt tried to swallow down his panic.

“Is everything all right?” Percival called. “I thought I heard you crying?”

“…I…I was having a bad dream…s-sorry.” Newt replied and waited with baited breath.

“Alright, sorry to bother you,” the man called through the door and Newt bit his lip.

“Goodnight,” he managed to reply and listened to the footsteps walking away.

Flopping back onto the bed, Newt ran his hands throw his hair and glanced out to the gardens. It looked peaceful, the night warm and calm with the moonlight shining down from a clear sky.

Newt took a satchel with him, a few books stuffed in them as an excuse. He brought bits of food and fed the pixies and fairies. Newt visited with the magical creatures in the gardens, not rushing himself as he looked in on everyone and made note of a new niffler prowling about.

Finally, he picked a quiet spot under an older tree that provided cover. Newt couldn’t see the manor and the hedges on the ground hid him from the walkways.

Feeling distinctly wild, Newt pushed his trousers down and gently rubbed his hole. It was still slicked and opened up. So he brought out the toy and eased back on it. It slid up into him, right to the flared base where the knot was.

Newt huffed out a long breath, not worried about being too noisy now. He knelt in the grass and sat down on the toy, hips bouncing up and down tentatively. The angle wasn’t perfect and Newt fumbled to sit back without dislodging the toy. He laid out on his back and reached to take the end of the toy and push it in as he pleased. This was the better was to do it he decided, where he could shove as hard as he pleased.

The rustle of leaves made Newt look up and he shivered when his wolf came padding from the darkness.

“Hello, I’ve missed you,” Newt breathed, rocking on his toy as the beast came to inspect him. It lowered its head to sniff as his body, to check what he was doing to himself.

Newt let the toy slip free, his hole feeling open but not nearly enough. He moaned when the wolf licked at him, his long warm tongue running over his rim. It felt better, to have someone else doing it, Newt decided with a sigh.

He rolled onto his hands and knees quickly, pressing his arse back onto the wolf’s tongue.

“Please, mate me again,” he asked, feeling the need rolling through him. He wanted it, wanted the burn and ache. Newt wanted the creature on his back, claiming him in the most base way.

He shivered eagerly when the wolf complied, mounting Newt again.

They lined up quickly and something between a moan and cry passed Newt’s lips as he was impaled by the wolf’s cock.

It felt just as hot and intense, that too much, too fast, feeling made Newt’s head spin. He whined out as he felt the pull and push. The wolf’s paws curling around his middle to keep him still. Newt just submitted to the feelings, to the thrusting that was shoving him forward and the paws that were yanking him back.

Merlin, could anything feel this good?

The knot caught on his rim, making him jolt and the wolf whined at him, nosing his hair as he pressed back in. Newt fought the need to try and escape, making himself stay as the knot pushed at his hole. The wolf’s paws tightened and with one shallow but harsh thrust, it was inside Newt.

He trembled and fumbled to take hold of himself. The feeling of the knot inside him, the fur on his backside and the panting above him, they all stirred him up and Newt came with a soft sob.

“Goodness, you’re very good at that,” Newt complimented. The wolf huffed at his face and Newt smiled as he began to lick at Newt’s skin. Grooming him affectionately as the stayed knotted, Newt’s body accepting the wolf’s seed.

Once the knot came free, his wolf cleaned Newt up, licking his tender hole as it dripped semen. It was enough to bring Newt's cock around and he came again, laid out on his back with his thighs spread wide for the wolf to lick him as he pleased. His trousers hanging off one leg and his shirt pushed up so he wouldn't mess on it.

Once he finished, the wolf cleaned his seed, licking Newt’s belly and hand clean.

“Thank you,” Newt told him with a fond smile, leaning up to press a kiss to his cold nose.

Once he dressed again, the wolf was herding him, pushing at Newt and nipping at his legs.

“What is it?” He let the beast lead him and Newt laughed to find himself at the door of the manor.

“I understand; you don’t want me sleeping outside again?”

The beast nodded.

“Thank you for helping me last time,” he offered and ran his fingers through the soft warm fur of the wolf’s neck. “You go home too; it won’t do anyone good if someone sees you in the gardens.”


Newt didn’t see the wolf as often as he would have liked, only once or twice a week at most. The mated each time, Newt coming to adore the knot pulsing inside him. When he used his toy he used it harshly, trying to slam it hard like the wolf would. But it was never the same, never enough.

Percival continued to spend more time with Newt as well. They walked and talked more on the weekend. Percival showed him tentative plans to expand the stables and brought Newt in on the paperwork so he could learn. They were going to try and register has a magical creature sanctuary, one of the first ones in America. The laws on magical creatures were terrible but they could change that, Percival was certain. The sanctuary could help transform the way people looked at magical creatures, it could be the beginning of that change.

Newt was giddy with hope and excitement, willing to learn boring forms and paperwork if it helped in the long run. Percival was a good mentor, never irritated if Newt didn’t understand what he was learning right away. They did well together and Newt hoped it was a sign they could work together someday.

With this sanctuary, Newt could see a future where he remained at the manor. He could help and learn more about magical creatures, he could stay in this little piece of heaven, tucked away from the outside world. 

Percival lit up his heart and Newt was content to be beside him in any way he could. His love had never diminished, he still adored the man and was still flustered by him. But Newt had also settled in reality, he knew nothing would ever happen between them. That Percival only saw Newt as his ward. Which was fine, Newt was thrilled where he was, with the man smiling at him on the weekend and the wolf visiting him in the night.  

He could be happy just like that.


It was the beginning of August, a few weeks before Theseus’s visit when Newt began to get sick. He woke up ill each morning and throughout the day the oddest things would nauseate him. It reminded him a bit of his boat ride to America, Newt constantly hugging a bucket and retching miserably.

“Oh dearie, you poor thing,” Queenie soothed him, combing his damp hair from his face. She ignored the upset in the pail and the terrible smell, always so doting and motherly.

“Were you sleeping outside again? Did you catch a proper flu this time?”

Newt shook his head despondently.

“I much prefer my warm and soft bed, I promise I haven’t been, I’m just nauseous.”

Newt felt humiliation burn as he gagged and pulled the pail close to empty his stomach into it. Queenie waved her wand once he was done and the bedroom window opened up and fresh air rushed in. The pail was suddenly clean and when Newt looked up a glass of cool water was waiting for him.

“Thank you,” he told her honestly. “You’ve always been the one to help me when I’m ill. I do appreciate it very much.”

“It’s no problem sweetie, I can’t help it, you look so down.”

Newt drank his water and tried to rest, feeling drained.


He missed his studies for the week and come the Friday, Percival returned with the healer Mr. Kinney in tow.

“I’ve heard you’ve been sick this week?” The healer asked kindly. Newt had always liked the man. He had worked for the Graves family for a long time and had been the one to treat Newt since he arrived in America.

“Now, which creatures have you been around, have you handled any talking toads by chance? Perhaps a pixie gave you a snap?”

Newt was laid against the pillows in his bed with the healer pulling up a chair to sit beside him. Percival was right behind the man, peering at Newt with open worry.

“No,” Newt huffed. “It’s been years since I’ve made such mistakes. I would know if a magical creature did this.”

Unless taking a wolf knot was the cause. But Newt doubted that, surely the effect would have been felt sooner.

Mr. Kinney waved his wand over Newt’s body, assessing as he muttered spells to seek and find the illness. It was a bit like a tingling all over, magic crawling on his skin and making his insides flutter oddly.

“Have you had any potions the last six months?”

“I was sick two and a half months ago?” Newt looked up at Percival and he nodded his head and called Wibbly. The house elf produced all the potions Newt had taken and Percival brought the few he had made himself for Newt.

The healer examined them all with ease, no real worry in his face so Newt supposed he was having a lingering reaction to potions mixing.

A tall red bottle that didn’t look familiar seemed to catch attention.

“Here we are,” the healer announced.

“What is this?” Percival directed to the house elf, tone stern but not cruel.

“Stomach potion, for stomachs.”

“That’s one way of looking at it,” the healer mused with a chuckle. He peered at the potion ingredients list Percival had provided, tapping at a few of them. “These here would have amplified it, made the potion more potent.”

“What has it done? Is Newton alright?” Percival pressed, face pulled into a worried frown.

“Perfectly fine. He is however, pregnant.”

The healed went on to explain that the ‘stomach potion’ was used for conceiving a child. Queenie was horrified to learn her potion had been mixed up with the common house potions. Wibbly wailed dramatically, sobbing her shame and failure as a house elf. Percival looked very much shocked and Newt sort of felt numb.

It wasn’t unheard of for a man to carry a child. But it wasn’t commonly an accident. There weren’t babies popping up left and right. Newt was carrying a child. A tiny life was growing inside him.

A... puppy?

“Is it ok? I mean…healthy?” Newt suddenly asked, stopping the commotion unfolding in his room. Queenie gathered herself and Wibbly stopped crying.

The healer smiled at Newt, something proud almost.

“It’s perfectly healthy, too early to know the gender, but a healthy little baby is growing in your stomach.”

“I should take things, supplement potions?”

Newt glanced at Queenie, she had been doing so, had talked about the importance of it and a healthy baby. He felt bad, a sadness creeping up his spine as he looked at the woman. Jacob and Queenie had been trying all summer for a child and here Newt was, accidentally pregnant.

The healer provided a list of potions for Newt to begin, along with certain ones to help ease his stomach.

Percival walked the man out, talking lowly with him.

Wibbly vanished to make a cup of tea for Newt.

Queenie looked distinctly lost, her lip trembling.

“Oh my darling, I never meant for this, I should have kept those potions all locked up in our rooms. I didn’t think at all,” she told him. She came to his bedside and took his hand, squeezing it tightly. “This is a right mess, isn’t it? I’m so sorry Newt.”

“It’s ok,” he hesitated, not really good at important words. It was clear he needed to comfort her though. “You didn’t mean for it to happen, so there’s nothing to forgive. It was an accident.”

“A very big one,” Queenie sniffed delicately, hurrying to wipe her tears away. “Oh Newt darling, this will change things. Drastically. You can’t go back to Ilvermorny; they won’t have you.”

Newt blinked slowly, settling back into his pillows.

“Oh. That’s right I suppose. I’m an unwed teenage mother now.”

“It’ll be ok; Mr. Graves will sort this all out. Everything will work out just fine,” she promised and Newt nodded his head. Queenie seemed on the verge of crying and he felt bad that he was a bit relieved when she left. Newt was terrible at dealing with other’s emotions properly.

He sat in his room on his own, picking up the old stuffed niffler that Wibbly had pulled out when he first starting throwing up.

Newt had never thought of children before. Not seriously. He knew he did want them, when he could provide a good life for them though. Not when he was barely an adult and more of a child himself.

He thought of his mum and could see her before him, kneeling and smiling up at him. She seemed to tell him that it was fine, that he could do this.

He ran a hand over his stomach and wondered if he could feel them just yet. A son or daughter. A tiny little life inside him. Newt wondered about the repercussions of a wolf father. The healer had said they were fine, but he hadn’t known to check if they were human. Perhaps Newt would deliver a puppy. That would be the sort of scandal to make papers all over the world.

It was strange, he felt so oddly calm. Everything felt delicate, like it was all made of glass. A single wrong move could break it all down. But while it was whole, it was rather pretty.

Newt was going to have a baby.

He was certain he wasn’t ready at all but that wouldn’t change the fact he was pregnant. Worrying wouldn’t help anyone, it would only stress the baby. No point in suffering twice, best to deal with the issues as they came.

Really, Newt was a bit lucky, Queenie was an expert on pregnancy at this point and she had shared a lot of knowledge with everyone. Newt had an idea of what to expect and what was expected of him. He’d have to look into the differences of a male pregnancy to a female, a magical pregnancy would be different surely. Newt wouldn’t be able to deliver a child; they’d have to magically extract them when it was time. That about summed up all he knew about male pregnancy.

“Research,” he said aloud, the stuffed niffler seemed to agree with him.

“I can do this,” he proclaimed determinedly and he thought he could see his parents, smiling sweetly at him, approving of his choice.


Everyone reacted differently.

Percival was gone in the morning, off to the city for some weekend appointment. So Newt had breakfast in the kitchens with everyone. Jacob seemed to swing between cheerful and upset, Queenie was all strained smiles, Tina looked worried, and Credence seemed the most neutral, curious than anything else.

“So there will be a new potion regime? Anything I should consider in the meals?” Jacob asked.

Newt chewed his lip in thought.

“I’m honestly not very sure. I need to find some books on male pregnancy and magical pregnancy, to learn a bit more about what to anticipate.”

“I don’t have anything about men, but I do have some on magical pregnancy I could lend you,” Queenie offered.

“That would help,” Newt replied and the tension in the room was very much palpable. Everyone exchanging looks with meanings Newt didn’t quite understand.

“…Does anyone know when Percival will be home?” He inquired hesitantly.

“I’m not sure sweetie, I don’t think he mentioned it. He left quickly this morning,” Queenie explained and Newt could see Tina frowning.

“When did Mr. Graves become Percival?” She asked very bluntly, something about her tone unfavourable.

“When do you think?” Jacob replied with a shake of his head and Newt looked between them all in confusion.

“Is something wrong?” He asked the room and everyone seemed to look at each other and not him. It startled him and it hurt to be this excluded in whatever was happening.

“They’re just upset,” Credence finally said, the only one to sense how Newt was feeling. They had always seemed to be on the same wavelength, understanding one another with a single look. “About the child.”

“What does my baby have to do with Percival?”

Tina’s face soured and she wiped her face suddenly, sitting up and leaving the table without a word. Newt watched her go, hopelessly confused.

“Whatever happens, we’ll be here, and we got your back, ya?” Jacob announced, patting Newt’s shoulder with a serious air.

“I…thank you?”

“I might not be delighted with everything, but I hardly think Mr. Graves is going to throw Newt out or anything so dramatic.”

Newt made a sudden noise, staring at Queenie. Throw him out? Why would Percival throw Newt out? Had he done something?

Newt looked down at his plate, his mind whirling with a newfound worry. He hadn’t thought about the implications of having a child in terms of Percival. Would he wish for Newt and the child to leave his home? Newt had failed to finish his education he realized, the very reason he had come to America. That wouldn’t reflect well on the man. He hadn’t come to see Newt last night and was gone this morning, perhaps he was disgusted with Newt? Perhaps he would arrive home and ask him to pack his bags and leave. But really, everything Newt owned was bought by the man. What would he do? There was nowhere he could go, Newt was spoiled in terms of work, he had his chores and studies but they surely wouldn’t compare to a job. He didn’t even have any real experience in anything to try for one.

“Are you ok?” Credence asked and Newt sat up straight, stomach twisting.

“I’m going to be ill.”


Newt was truly miserable now, settled on his bathroom floor, a bucket between his knees as his stomach heaved as it pleased. Wibbly had brought him tea but Newt couldn’t stand the smell. He requested to be left alone and was granted it, sitting on his own on the cold tile. Perhaps this was an insight into his future.


He looked up sharply, not wanting Percival to see him like this, tears and snot running down his face as he wallowed in self-pity.

But the man was there, coming into his room with a package and looking for him. His eyes found Newt on the bathroom floor, the door opened to the bedroom. Percival looked distinctly odd, his face running through an upset sort of emotion before he smoothed it back.

“I brought you this, to help with the nausea,” he explained as he crossed the room. Newt watches him set the package on the bathroom sink and open it, pulling out a bottle and a soft ‘clink’ of more still in the box. He popped the lid and took Newt’s cup of water, adding the green potion to it before offering the water.

Newt stared at the cup a moment before heaving, dropping his face to retch into the pail once more.

Percival shifted in front of him, looking distinctly out of place. But then he seemed to gather himself, pulling off his coat, his white shirt and vest seeming like less than Newt was used to seeing him in. The man squeezed in beside Newt, the bathroom wasn’t overly large, settling beside him and reaching to rub his back.

“I’m sorry this is so hard on you,” he consoled, looking truly sorry. Newt wished the man wasn’t there to see him like this but Percival didn’t seem like he was going anywhere. He called a washcloth to his hand and the sink turned itself on, water floating in the air to come wet the cloth. Percival wiped Newt’s brow gently and pushed his hair from his skin.

“Try the potion?”

Newt nodded weakly and accepted the glass with a trembling hand. He sipped the water down, resting the back of his head on the wall his back was resting against.

“I do hope this part goes quickly,” he confessed and the man beside him chuckled agreeably.

“I concur,” Percival replied, a warm hand cupping Newt’s knee and squeezing comfortingly.

“…Do you want me to leave?” Newt asked when his eyes were closed, not wanting to see the reaction. He was more scared then he realized, faced with the possibility he was going to lose his home.

“Newt,” Percival’s breath sounded rough. “Of course not. I would never do such a thing to you.”

“Oh…that’s good,” Newt sighed out, his shoulders relaxing and a great weight slipping off his back. “I was scared.”

He opened his eyes and looked at the man, Percival was sitting so close to him. He had to smell terrible but the man didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he pressed a kiss to Newt’s hair, pulling him in close. Newt went resting his head under the man’s chin.

“You’ve nothing to worry about. I’ll help you in any way I can. I would never leave you alone in this.”

Newt hummed in reply, feeling terribly drowsy now.

“Don’t worry about any thing, I’m here for you, darling,” he promised and Newt thought he could trust him, Percival wasn’t the kind to lie.


He woke later in his bed, not remembering falling asleep at all. Newt rolled off his side onto his back, stretching his arms above his head and feeling genuinely better.

“Wake, potion time,” Wibbly announced as she appeared at the side of the bed. There was a new tray on the bedside table, filled with potions Newt had never seen before. “Mr. Graves said Mr. Newt must take his potions every day, he must.”

Newt nodded, accepting them as the house elf popped the lids and poured each bit into little cups for him to drink. He washed it all down with a glass of water. A burp travelled up his throat and came out his mouth in a puff of smoke. Clearly a potion side effect.

“What time is it?” He requested, looking out the window, it seemed like midday.

“Three o’clock, missed lunch you did,” she scolded lightly. “Go find a snack?”

“I can go myself, I’ll eat something,” he assured and the house elf nodded, Newt was trusted to do as he said. Tina was the one who usually forgot to eat and Percival was the one who agreed just to make her leave.


Newt padded down the stairs, listening for anyone. He could hear voices in the study, loud enough to carry through the closed doors. Tina sounded distinctly angry and Newt changed direction to go and see what was amiss.

“-a boy. A sweet young man and you’ve ruined his life! Ruined all his hopes for the future. How is Newt supposed to follow his dreams with a baby on his hip? How could you do this to him? You were supposed to protect him, help him. Not crawl into bed with him!”

Feeling humiliation flood him, Newt rushed to open the door and barge in on the conversation. Percival was sitting behind his desk while Tina stood in front of it, glaring down at him.

“T-Tina! That’s not what happened,” he cried, face red in utter mortification. “You’ve misunderstood.”

The older woman turned to sigh at him, looking at Newt like he was a little child.

“I know you might think that, but… Mr. Graves should have never…”

“Your point is made Tina,” Percival's voice was sharp but not angry. Newt had never heard anyone talk so disrespectable like, much less yell at the man but he seemed calm for it.

“If you would allow me and Newt to speak in private.”

Tina frowned, looked uncertain before she nodded her head. She paused beside Newt, lifting a hand to touch his arm gently.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Me and Queenie, Credence and Jacob too, we all support you Newt. We’ll help you.” Her voice was very serious so Newt nodded, watching her with wide eyes before she nodded once more and left.

“I’m s-sorry. I hadn’t realized she thought, they all thought…” he tried to apologise but Percival held up a hand, he motioned for Newt to sit and so he did, taking the chair across from the large desk.

“How are you feeling? First off.”

“Much better, I think the potion helped, thank you.”

Percival nodded.

“I’ve let everyone think certain things for a reason Newt.”


“I think, it would be in our best interests, if you were to consider…marriage.”

“You want me to get married?”

Percival nodded. Newt bit his lower lip, hands clutching his knees nervously. It did make sense. A child should have two parents, someone to help Newt raise them. But no one would marry him, pregnant with another’s child. He wasn’t high born or from a special bloodline. He was just him.

“Who do you want me to marry?”

Percival smiled then, something sad but also very fond.

“Me, darling. I’d like you to marry me.”

Newt’s face burned hot as he stared at the other man and then looked at the floor, his mind whirling far too fast.

“I can’t, we can’t…I’m…I…”

Percival left his seat, walking around the desk to sit in the chair beside Newt and reach out to touch his knee gently.

“I wanted to give this to you, one day,” he offered Newt a little box, a shiny gold ring inside it.

“It’s been in my family for a very long time. I went this morning to get it from our vaults.”

It was simple but also very pretty, a gold band with very delicate lines carved all through it, making sweeping patterns that were constantly shifting a bit, gracefully flowing.

“It’s very nice,” Newt admitted, still somewhat shocked. “You… You wanted to marry me?”

Percival nodded, smiling so sincerely at Newt and his heart thudded in reply. He suddenly felt very young and the man in front of him had always felt unattainable. He was alluring and pleasant and Newt had never understood why he wasn’t married already.

“I didn’t want to rush you; I’d hoped to convince you to stay here. To work in the sanctuary and after a few years, I would have asked you to court properly.”

“Court,” Newt echoed, feeling out of his depths.

“Court.” Percival agreed. “But now everything has changed. You need a husband and your child needs a father. I’d like to be both, if you would have me.”

Newt stared at the ring, his mind turning over the thought and everything that came with it.

“People won’t like that… they’ll think terrible things about you… that you did things to me.”

“So be it. Have I ever seemed like gossip bothers me? I want to be with you Newt. I’m not worried about what others think. Only what you think.”

Newt blinked, feeling tears burn in his eyes.

“I… I love you. Very much,” he confessed, head tucked down, eyes on the ground. “I would be happy to marry you.”

Percival’s fingers came into his vision, touching his chin to tip his head up. Newt looked at the other man, watching him smile brightly. Newt returned it, feeling overwhelmed but in the best way.

He made himself stay still as Percival leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Newt’s mouth. His mouth was warm and his lips unexpectedly soft. His scent filled Newt’s nose and the closeness of him made something prickle down Newt’s spine.

They parted slowly and Newt raised his fingers to touch his mouth.

His first kiss.


“Well, it’s good to hear!” Jacob announced when Newt told him. Percival sent him to the kitchens to get something to eat after their talk. Jacob was preparing for dinner, chopping fresh vegetables for a soup. “We were all worried, about you, we only wanted the best.”

Newt nodded, nibbling on his sandwich.

Percival had asked Newt not to tell anyone he wasn’t the father. He said it would make everything easier in the future and that he intended to claim the child as his own. He would raise the baby and in all the ways that mattered, he was the father.

Newt wasn’t completely sure, he felt bad for the lie that made Percival seem in the wrong. But he would respect the request as best as he could.


Theseus arrived on a Sunday.

He took a port key to New York and Percival brought Newt to meet him. He had the week off to play host to Newt’s brother and seemed genuinely happy to meet him finally.

Theseus saw them quickly, waving as he arrived. MACUSA had a special room for people to arrive and customs agents took Theseus’ papers. Newt shifted eagerly, watching his brother hurry to get to him, answering questioned and showing his suitcase for inspection.

He was different in many ways, not as tall as Newt recalled but still tall. Broad and bright, his charming smile in place. He looked ready to launch himself at Newt and Newt was eager for it.

Finally, his brother was free to go, striding towards him. He dropped his case with a loud thud and scooped Newt up, lifting him off the floor. Laughing, he returned the hug tightly, letting Theseus spin them in circles.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much,” Theseus told him softly, voice strained with emotion and Newt tucked his head in his brother’s shoulder.

“Me too,” he replied, just as teary.

They intended to stay in New York for a few days, to show Theseus around before taking him to the manor.

“I want to see your home, these gardens sound amazing,” Theseus laughed, bright and filled with a charismatic air. “But you can show me New York too, tell me all the best places,” he winked.

Newt smiled so much his face hurt.

Percival watched them both was an easy attitude. He shook Theseus hand and accepted a sudden hug as well. Now he trailed after them as Theseus asked Newt questions about where they were. When he glanced back at the man, Percival smiled, letting Newt know everything was fine.

The went to shops and ate at Newt’s favourite restaurant. It was a wonderful day and Newt felt perfectly content between his brother and Percival.

The city apartment wall shifted to produce a second guest room, everything clean and fresh.

“Fancy,” Theseus said, dropping his suitcase on the bed. “Maybe I should have pretended to be you and came to America. I could have pulled off ten at eighteen.”

Newt shook his head, bidding his brother a good night.

“Do you have your potions?” Percival asked softly when Newt headed to his own bedroom. He nodded his head and Percival smiled down at him.  “Rest well, we have a long day of sightseeing tomorrow, I don’t want you to strain yourself.”

Newt curled up in his bed for about a half hour before he got up. With his blanket on his shoulders, his tiptoed down the hall.

Theseus seemed to expect him, lifting his blankets so Newt could sneak in bed with him as he had as a boy.

“How are you?” Theseus asked softly.

“…Pregnant,” Newt confessed, just as softly.

They used to do this, have midnight talks where they promised to never lie. Only the truth would come out and no one would be angry about it.

Theseus’ eyes widened and he let out a sudden breath. Sitting up to stare at Newt incredulously. Newt tugged his shirt pleadingly and Theseus laid back down, turning on his side to mirror Newt and face him, heads on pillows side by side.


“It was an accident. Literally. A mix up with potions. Everyone felt terrible about it.”

“Will you keep it? The baby?”

Newt nodded. He hadn’t considered giving up the child when it was born. The idea of carrying it, delivering it and then letting it go off into the world seemed terrible to Newt. He just couldn’t stand the idea of it, much less consider seriously doing it. Even when he feared being homeless and on his own, the child was still in his arms.

“Percival wants to marry me.”

Theseus looked cross now, face going dark and thunderous.

“We never,” Newt declared. “He’s not the true father. But he wants everyone to think he is, so the baby can have a good life.”

“Who is?”

Newt glanced down. “It’s…complicated. But the father can’t be a father. Percival is very special to me. I’ve been in love with him for a long time. He’ll be a good father. What he’s doing is kind.”

“He’s snatching you up. Did the father love and then leave you?”

Newt nodded his head, deciding it was as close to the truth as he was able to admit. Even to his dear brother, Newt could say he had mated with a dire wolf.

“I like Percival, I… trust him.”

Theseus watched Newt a moment, reaching to flick Newt’s nose lightly.

“If you say so. He does sound the right sort in your letters.”

Newt nodded, smiling at his sibling.

“So… what’s being pregnant like?”


Theseus was given a first-hand show the next morning, Newt retching unhappily into a pail. His brother fretted worse than Queenie and Wibbly combined, rubbing his back and hovering worriedly. They were supposed to be out seeing things but instead Newt was curled up on the couch with Percival and Theseus doting on him.  

Theseus popped out of the apartment and came back with a paper bag from the Chinese shopping district. He cut and ground something up and served Newt a tea. It tasted heavy with a spice, honey sweetened it though. Newt drank the cup and felt better for it.

“Ginger tea,” Theseus explained, sitting on the floor beside Newt as he laid out on the couch.

“Mum drank it when she was pregnant with you,” he explained and Newt felt tears prick in his eyes. Theseus told him all he could recall of their mum when she was pregnant with Newt and her first few years with him as a baby. Newt listened raptly, wanting everything he could have of her, of the parents he felt like he barely recalled. He had been only seven when they passed.

They didn’t go out anywhere that day, but Newt felt like the day was far from wasted.

“My mother wasn’t one to be fooled, she used to have the house elves check the rooms. They could always find hidden sweets no matter how well we tried to hide them,” Percival recalled and Theseus chuckled. He had begun asking the other man about his family and now they were sharing stories back and forth. Newt was learning more about Percival’s family than he ever had before. All he known before was that the man was an only child and his parents had died in an accident when he was a young man. He had an aunt and cousins but wasn’t close with them. They were very politically involved with MACUSA and Percival, as a Director, couldn’t be swayed by them. He personally didn’t care for them much, they believed in pureblood notions and looked down on those outside their wealth. Newt met the aunt once at an event and she had been mean to him, looking at him like he was something disgusting. Thankfully, Percival had never made Newt attend such an event again. He wondered if he would have to has his husband.

“Newt never snuck food, we shared everything. But pa used to have to look in his closet for beasts he had brought home.”

“Theseus,” Newt hissed, face going red but Percival seemed delighted with stories of him. 

“He used to keep them everywhere, and hide them in the house,” Theseus recalled without mercy. He launched into a story where their mother had company over and a gnome had burst out of the sugar pot, scaring everyone silly.

Newt huddled into his blanket, embarrassed but Percival laughed, a warm deep thing that tingled up Newt’s spine.

It set the standard for the week. Theseus got on very well with everyone at the manor and told all sorts of stories about Newt and learned the more embarrassing ones Newt had never written or told him about.

“He was about eleven when he decided there was no reason why the hippogriff chick couldn’t come into the kitchen. Near destroyed the entire place trying to get the poor thing out. Newt sobbing and worried we would hurt it the entire time,” Jacob laughed and Newt sighed, accepting his fade already.

Despite the enablement, he was utterly content, watching his brother finally meet the people dear to him.


“Percival?” Newt felt a bit forward, knocking on his door at night but he hadn’t had a chance to speak with him alone all day and he was running out of time.

The door clicked and Percival opened it, stepping back to gesture Newt into his room. It felt a bit like stepping somewhere sacred. Newt had been banned from the bedroom’s as a wild mess-making boy and he had never had any reason to be in the man’s bedroom when he was older.

It was like his own, mirroring the layout, a large bed and a bathroom off to the side. There was a fireplace and a desk set up, papers laid out.

“Am I bothering you?”

“Of course not, you can come see me whenever you want,” Percival assured.

“I wanted to talk about… the wedding,” Newt made himself say, nervous but also very hopeful. 


They married the day before Theseus left.

They only had a day to plan, everyone rushing around the manor. Jacob cooking up a storm as he made a dinner and a cake. Queenie waved her wand furiously, setting up decorations in the garden while Tina and Credence helped. Theseus stayed with them to assist and Newt went into the city with Percival to find something nice to wear.

“A wedding?” the tailor had asked, looking very startled at staring at Percival. Newt had been to the shop before, for school robes. Percival also bought his suits from them, Newt imagined he spent a great deal of money. He had many fine suites and liked to wear the most current fashions.

“A wedding, something informal and private,” Percival explained.


He nodded patiently as the tailor gaped a moment. Then he seemed to gather himself and bolts of cloth flew off the walls, various colours coming to unfold and rest against Newt.


“Outdoor, a garden setting,” Percival supplied and the colours changed. Newt let the tailor's measuring tape wind around him and take the numbers it needed. It did the same with Percival who somehow looked perfectly causal as the floating tape slithered over his body. They were instructed to return in six hours and not a moment before.

Percival guided Newt around the shops, picking out baby supplies, soft blankets with twinkling stars and little stuffed creatures that would snuggle back. Newt noticed the way the shopkeepers looked at them, some even offering congratulations. Percival’s hand rested on Newt’s hip and people were whispering. But he accepted the words with a nod of his head and easy smile, prompting Newt to follow suit. A few well-dressed men stopped them in the street to congratulate them on the wedding as well. Newt had the distinct feeling they were doing far more than shopping. But he understood this was part of Percival’s life. He was someone important in the city, someone important in MACUSA. People would take notice of him marrying, more so a much younger pregnant man.

But Percival acted as if it was perfectly fine so Newt just went along with it, he trusted the man to know what was best in this sort of matter.

They returned to the shop and picked up the suits and then went home. The halls were decorated with floating flowers and delicate fairies were sitting in them, preening to be part of the decorations.

“You were almost late,” Queenie admonished lightly, her scolding ruined by her bright smile as she shooed them to dress and prepare for the ceremony.

An older man with a pleasant air about him conducted the ceremony. Newt felt a bit wrapped up in his new suit but Theseus told him he looked wonderful in it. Percival looked very fine in his so Newt tried to believe the compliment. 

There was a pretty flower arch over them and fairies dancing happily among it. Two of the older and more calmer hippogriffs were wearing the fancy brindles and watching. Newt delighted in the inclusion of the magical creatures and Tina and Queenie looked pleased with themselves.

Percival slipped the gold ring on Newt and had a matching one for himself that Newt managed to get on his finger without mishap. In fact, the entire wedding went off without any trouble, Newt didn’t say anything silly or fumble up his parts. But it was very wonderfully simple. They did the ceremony with Theseus, Jacob, Queenie, Tina, Credence, Wibbly and the other house elves all watching. Once it was done they all went into the dining room and shared a delectable meal. Queenie charming the food to put on a show as they ate. But it was the flavours that made the meal really.

“I do think you might have magic,” Newt told Jacob lightly. “I’ve never had anything better than what you make. You have a special gift for food.”

“Well,” the man replied, looking touched as Queenie smiled at them both.

Too soon, Newt felt his eyelids droop. He tried to ignore it but Percival noticed when he began to struggle to keep alert. They left the others, with plenty of food and fine drinks to keep them company. Theseus seeming to fit in among them perfectly.

“How do you feel?” Percival asked once he led Newt to his bedroom. 

“Just tired,” Newt reassured him, yawning a bit. He felt that sleepiness pull away though, when he realized properly they were in Percival’s room. It made sense, they were married. Newt stared at the bed, feeling his stomach flutter unsurely.

“I need my sleeping shirt,” He said and Percival nodded. But a wave of his hand had the bedroom doors opening and Newt’s shirt floating over to him.

Percival was pulling off his vest, unbuttoning his shirt, not trying to hide himself at all. Newt flustered but followed his example and stripping down. He turned to look away but watched from the corner of his eye. Percival’s bare chest on display. He wore trendy underthings, close cut bottoms with no top. The curve of his hip and the shape of his thigh very distracting.

“Newt?” He started, going redder as he realized he’s stopped undoing his shirt buttons but still held his shirt ends in his hands. Turning away fully, Newt stripped down all the way. He never wore his union suit under his sleeping shirt and so saw no reason to start. He pulled it over his head and turned back to the bed. He stopped short to find Percival openly watching him, having obviously watched Newt strip naked.

Flustered again, Newt lifted the covers and hurried to slip into the bed. It wasn’t as soft as his but it was still very plush and the blankets fine and comfortable.

Percival went to the bathroom, the water running had he prepared for bed and Newt laid out on his bed, nervous and steadily growing more so. This was their wedding night; he hadn’t considered that at all. Newt had only wanted Theseus to be there for their wedding, he hadn’t thought that in rushing the wedding, he had rushed to their first time. Newt hadn’t even had sex with another person before. Would it be different?

“Are you ok?” Newt glanced up at the man, nodding his head weakly. “Are you sure?” Percival pressed, sliding into the bed and under the covers with Newt. The lights dimmed down and faded out softly, leaving them in the weak moonlight.

Newt fought his nerves and made himself move closer to his husband.

Percival hadn’t put on a sleeping shirt and Newt’s hand touched his bare skin, his hip, when he reached out. Unable to look at him, he still scooted closer under the covers, easing in until he was pressed up against Percival’s front, both of them on their sides facing one another.

The man let Newt move as he pleased, curling his arms around Newt gently.

Still embarrassed, Newt pulled back and glanced up at the man. Percival looked terribly amused but not cruelly so.

“Please don’t tease,” Newt requested, he never liked it when he felt like he was being foolish in front of the man.

“Never,” Percival assured him, leaning down to kiss Newt again. His bottom lip opened a bit and Newt felt the tip of his tongue touch Newt’s lips. He startled before melting into the feeling, letting the man push into his mouth and kiss him deeply.

He broke the kiss, feeling his body heat up as his legs meekly touched Percival’s own.

“I’m worried I’ll be terrible at this,” he admitted and Percival kissed his brow sweetly.

“I’ve always taught you the best I can, you’ve always done very well,” he replied and Newt supposed that was true. This wasn’t that much more different. Percival used to give him lessons on wand movements, standing pressed up behind him, guiding Newt’s hand. He’d been sure his heart pounding was obvious, his sweaty palms probably terrible, but Percival had guided him without falter.

So he nodded and smiled up at his new husband, letting Percival duck down to kiss him again. He gently pressed on Newt’s shoulder rolling him onto his back and Percival moving over him. Newt fumbled a bit, before spreading his thighs to accommodate the man over him. His sleeping shirt rode up high but that was part of the point he supposed.

Percival kissed the corner of his mouth and then his jaw, his mouth hot and wet as he ran it along Newt's skin. He kissed Newt’s ear and it tickled, making him squirm. When Percival licked his neck, a single long lap, Newt felt the heat pool in his belly. It reminded him of his sexual experiences so far and he felt himself shiver.

Percival’s teeth bite down gently, enough to let Newt feel them but not enough to hurt. He pushed into the sensation and reached out, fingers curling meekly around Percival’s bare hips, just above his sleeping pants. The man hummed in approval, kissing Newt’s neck now, open-mouthed things that felt very nice.

When he shifted, he felt Percival’s… he felt him pressed against his thigh, hard already. The man’s calloused hands slid up Newt’s sleeping shirt, cupping his backside and lifting him up. He rocked against Newt, rubbing himself against his arse.

Newt whined at the motion, feeling overwhelmed a bit. It was nothing like mating with his wolf, both for good and bad. It felt more intimate, more private and binding, but Percival was being a tad too gentle. Newt liked to feel a rough hand he imagined.

Still, it was very nice, very good. Newt mewled out, thighs spreading at he pressed up against him again. He wanted to feel it inside him, wanted to feel the friction within. His cock was pressed against his sleeping shirt, making a damp spot.

Newt pushed at Percival’s sleeping pants, feeling bold but wanting to be spread open.

The man groaned, a low thing against Newt’s neck. It rumbled through Newt’s chest and made him want to whine in answer. Percival sat back a bit, the blankets still on his back. It was too dark to see anything properly but Newt was curious. Reaching out, his fingers skimmed over the man’s flat stomach and down the waistband of the pants. 

Newt’s fingers touched the length of his cock, it felt warm and heavy in his hand. Newt wanted it in him immediately.

“Darling,” Percival rasped, his wrecked tone surprising Newt. He took Newt’s hand and lifted it away, kissing his palm. “I won’t last long if you touch me like that.”

A sense of satisfaction filled Newt, a pleased smirk pulling at his lips. Percival liked his touch, the man wanted him, on this very simple but utterly important level. A good marriage would have a good sexual element to it, wouldn’t it?

Percival raised a hand and a small bottle came to it. He popped the lid with two fingers, spilling it onto his palm before replacing the cap and setting it down on the bedding.

Newt watched him slide his hand between them, anticipation making him tremble as he felt the slippery wet fingers ease between his backside. A single fingertip rubbed over his rim, spreading the oil before gently pressing in. Newt sighed, relaxing into the bedding and focusing on the sensations as Percival fingered him open. Two fingers entering him as Newt sucked in a sharp breath. His hands reached out, holding onto Percival’s sides as he pushed down on the fingers.

“Easy,” Percival coaxed above him, raining kisses on Newt’s neck.

“More,” Newt whined back, rocking on the fingers in him, wanting more, wanting the friction deep inside him already. “Hurry,” he pled sweetly.

Percival shuddered and nodded, his fingers leaving Newt.

He sat up, pushing the blankets back as he shoved his sleeping pants down. His cock was eager, thick and very nice to look at. Newt felt his mouth water oddly, his eyes taking in the man before him. His fit and trim shape, the muscle on him and the cock he wanted in his arse.

Percival slicked himself with his hand and Newt pulled his sleeping shirt up higher. Eager as Percival came back down to him.

“Slowly,” he cautioned Newt as the thick blunt head of his cock rubbed at Newt’s hole. He reached out and curled his arms around Percival’s shoulders, pulling him in tightly.

“Don’t want slow,” he complained when Percival put a hand on his hip to keep Newt from shoving himself down.

“Wild thing,” the man muttered but finally nudged properly, pushing until his cock entered Newt, opening him up. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Potions can heal me,” Newt replied, more focused on the feel of his body taking Percival in than the words. He whined at the delightful ache of it.

Percival muttered softly, sinking in more and more and Newt loved every bit of it, wanting to feel too full.

The man kissed him, his tongue in Newt’s mouth. It was distracting but he liked it, licking back and pressing his chest against Percival’s own. His cock rubbed between their bellies and Newt lifted a leg to curl over Percival’s hip and thigh. It gave him the leverage to pull him in when he tried to ease back and Percival huffed when Newt did so.

“You know what you want,” he teased and Newt huffed in reply.

“Then give it to me,” he responded and Percival laughed outright, kissing Newt’s chin but finally, finally moving.

It felt different. A bit more like the toy had but also like the wolf would move. Sure steady lunges. They started slow but Newt pulled at Percival’s hip and he obeyed, going faster, letting his weight crash into Newt’s body more. Soon he was slamming into him, ramming with that rough nature like the wolf had.

Newt whined out, making all sorts of sounds as he shoved up to meet the thrusts. The friction was delightful, utterly wonderful. Percival was hitting the right spots as well, making Newt’s pleasure build up quickly.

When the man leaned in close, his stomach rubbed along Newt’s poor cock and it throbbed. His fingers clutched at Percival, pulling him tighter against him as he gasped out.

It was perfectly feral, so like what Newt loved, he had worried Percival would be too much a gentleman to be so callous. But it as flawless.

Newt cried out, far too loud in the house, as he came. His hips jerked desperately and Percival answered him, fucking into him furiously as Newt shivered and spilt all over their stomachs. The man above him lunged a few more times before groaning out, his breath coming in hard rasps as his cock twitched in Newt.

After a moment, Percival drew back carefully, kissing Newt’s shoulder as he rolled onto his side.

“I don’t think you need lessons,” Percival muttered, sounding so breathless that Newt felt something in him wiggle happily. The man called a warm wet cloth and cleaned Newt’s body up before tugging his sleeping shirt back down his body. He kicked his sleeping pants off properly and laid down naked beside Newt, pulling the blankets up around them.

Newt curled into his arms, resting his cheek on Percival’s chest and feeling distinctly content.


Percival woke far, far, too early. Newt snuggled into the pillow more when the man was rising up from the bed. Sleepily, he watched Percival walk to the bathroom nude, his arse rather nice to watch.

He had red marks on his shoulder, Newt noted absently. Long red scratches.

Sleep took him and Newt went happily.

He woke much later alone in the bed but not bothered by it. It was nice to stretch out and lay in the sunlight on his own. Percival’s room was in a corner of the house and had windows on either side of the two walls, letting in more sunlight. Newt peered around curiously, taking in the little details and thinking he should probably bring his things into the room as well. His room could be done up as a nursery. He ran his fingers over his stomach idly, thinking of all the things that would happen.

“Are you ever going to wake up?” Theseus greeted, leaning in the doorway.

“I’m supposed to rest,” Newt replied tartly and his brother laughed, coming into the room and sitting on the bed, flopping down beside Newt.

“I’ve got to return today,” he sighed and Newt turned to rest his face on Theseus’ shoulder.

“You should just stay.”

“I don’t doubt your rich and cunning husband would make it happen. But I’ve worked hard to become an auror in the Ministry, I can’t just give it up.”

“Will you visit more?”

“Of course. Your husband offered to foot the bill for travelling so I’ll be happy to. We should have asked years ago.”

Newt wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think it’s a small cost.”

“It really isn’t. That’s why I never actually asked.”

“I could come visit you some time maybe, with the baby. I’d like them to know Britain too.”

Theseus didn’t agree immediately and Newt turned to look at him. His brother looked startlingly hesitant.


“Maybe when they're older?”

Newt frowned, feeling hurt.

“You don’t want to know them?”

“Of course I do, I’m already dedicated to being the best uncle ever,” Theseus teased. But his smile dimmed. “It’s just… you were accepted into the education program for a reason.”

Newt peered at his brother, feeling confusion set in.

“It wasn’t random?”

“Not completely, a few slots were but not all. Newt… someone was following us. Since we lived in the cabin by the forest. The auror’s assigned to investigate always thought it was some family member of mums. She was from a pure bloodline y’know? Caused a big fuss when she ran off with pa. They thought maybe they were trying to kidnap you and raise you properly or something. Nothing ever happened, but it was the reason you got to come to America.”

Newt laid back on the bed, his hands going to his stomach protectively.

“Is my baby safe?”

“Of course. Percival always knew, he never found anyone suspicious near you growing up or anything. Same with the school. There were never any worries when you came here. I don’t think there’s any real threat… I just don’t want to chance anything back home. I dunno, maybe I’m worrying about nothing. I probably am. Percival has so many protection charms on you, I don’t think anyone could even think bad of you and not get blasted back.” Theseus chattered on, trying to move away from the conversation.

Newt hadn’t known about the charms. He didn’t feel any magic on him but perhaps Percival was just that good. Newt had never felt unsafe in the manor or at school. Theseus was probably right. Still, he would be more careful in the future and keep a close eye on his baby.

Theseus shifted on the bed and frowned, reaching under him to produce a little glass bottle. It was the oil Percival had used last night to slick Newt open.

“…Well, I need to get off this lewd bed of debauchery immediately.”

Newt hid in the blankets, face blazing red in embarrassment as he brother got up quickly.

“Come down and eat?”

Newt nodded his head wordlessly, humiliated, and Theseus mercifully left him.

Newt got up and explored the bathroom, sniffing potions and tonics there. Everything reminding him of Percival. He examined the fine and very sharp looking razor and peered at his own smooth chin. He’d never needed to shave. His body hair was also very fine and sparse. Setting it down with care, Newt used the bathroom and then padded to his own room to dress for the day.

Theseus was waiting for him in the kitchens, a breakfast waiting as well.

They spent the day together, walking the grounds and Newt pointing out every magical creature. He felt his heart ache as the afternoon faded into the evening. Percival had worked all day in his study, seeming to give Newt time alone with his brother. He accompanied them into the city and newt hugged his brother tightly, clinging to him as he fought tears.

“Promise to visit again soon?” he requested again and Theseus nodded.

“When the baby is born, perhaps?” Percival suggested and Theseus agreed, cheering Newt to have a date in mind.

Theseus and Percival shook hands, watching one another with a knowing look.

They returned home and Newt sighed out, missing his brother already.

“If I could coax him here, I would,” Percival told him and Newt believed him. The man came in close and Newt was happy to embrace him, curling against him.

Despite everyone trying to keep him in good spirits, Newt was sad in the following days. He knew he had to be, that missing his brother was normal and there was no reason to fight the ache. Better to feel it and let it pass than deny it.

So he wandered the gardens on his own, watching magical creatures and taking idle notes. He had been thinking of his book, perhaps a few journals, something to record his findings on the creatures that lived in the gardens. Something to help educate people.

“How are you feeling?” Percival greeted him and Newt looked up as he approached. Newt was settled on a bench, drawing the water fairies in the fading sunlight.

“I’m fine,” he reassured but his husband didn’t look convinced. So Newt let him coax him back into the house and into their bed.

He liked sex.

Percival seemed to realize Newt liked to be a bit forceful right away and their sex was very good. It left Newt aching in the best ways and he was content to stretch out on the bed afterwards. After the first few times, he got used to being nude around Percival, who treated it very normal. So Newt watched him afterwards, his delightful body on display and red marks on his shoulders. Newt had a habit of scratching the man when he was too lost in the moment. Percival seemed to take it has a challenge to always make Newt do so when he told him that.

His stomach was beginning to fill out now and Newt knew their sex would gentle the more he showed. Already Percival’s grip was going more tender then brutal. Which was fine, Newt certainly didn’t want to hurt his baby. The morning sickness had thankful subsided and Newt was feeling much more amiable about being pregnant. It was more enchanting now, a life growing in him, when he wasn’t being sick every time he looked at food too long.

“You look like a painting, spread out on the bed like that.” Newt tipped his head to Percival and smiled sweetly at his compliments. He liked to give them when they were alone like this, talking about how pretty Newt was and how good he was at sex, that he was everything Percival hoped for in a husband. It did wonders to make Newt feel good about himself.

Percival came back to bed and Newt welcomed him, wanting another round before they slept.


It took a long time for his wolf to come seeking him.

But Newt wasn’t outside in the evening anymore, tucked in bed instead, with Percival beside him. The sex would tire him and Newt slept more of the night away now. But some nights he woke, feeling restless. Percival woke early to attend his work and look after the house so Newt didn’t want to wake him.

Instead, he slipped from the bed and pulled on a robe to guard the fall chill before going out for a walk in the gardens.

The moonlight lit his way and Newt ran his fingers along the hedges, the leaves rustling under his fingers.

Newt had new tutors coming now, accredited people to teach him his final year of schooling and administer the tests needed. Once Newt passed he would be granted his graduation papers and given his wand officially. Newt got the feeling it wasn’t the norm but he didn’t worry about it. He wanted to finish his education and become a magizoologist still and Percival was helping him do so.

When a pair of pixies fled the water fountain Newt had settled at, he looked up and found his wolf seeking him out.

“Hello, it’s been awhile,” Newt greeted. The wolf butted its head to his shoulder and Newt hugged his neck in reply. “Have you been alright?”

He settled on the ground and proceeded to rub the beast down, scratching down his back and grooming him. His wolf answered by licking his knee.

Newt smiled but pushed his snout away when it sniffed under his sleeping shirt.

The wolf whined, turning its head to try again and Newt gave him a good tap in reprimand.

“I’m sorry, but I’m married now and I’ve no intention of being unfaithful,” he explained. “I do adore you, but I won’t do such a thing to Percival.”

The wolf peered up at him, golden eyes staring at Newt intently. He met the gaze for the first time, head tipped in a challenge. The beast stepped back and Newt thought it might leave. But then it shifted.

Newt stared at Percival, the man’s head tipped down, his gaze averted for once.


Newt looked away slowly, his mind turning over what he was seeing. Every memory seeming to twist suddenly. Fond moments with his wolf suddenly sullied. Oh Merlin.

How had he not realized this?

But the wolf visiting during the weekdays. Had Percival been returning to the manor specifically to see him as the wolf?

“I’m sorry, I can’t keep lying to you about this.”

“…Animagus?” Newt asked faintly and Percival nodded. He ran a hand over his face and sighed, seeming very distraught.

“I only wanted to look after you. You would always tell me everything was fine when I asked. But you would tell the wolf the truth. How else would I have known you were being bullied in school, that you felt lonely there? You always told me you were fine, even when it was obvious you weren’t.”

Newt blinked at the grass, cupping his stomach.

“Your…you really are the father,” he muttered, a numb sort of feeling settling over him.

“I am. I never intended… Merlin Newt, I never meant for such a thing to happen, not while you’re still so young.”

“Then why…?”

“That beast,” Percival grumbled back.

Newt felt a new wave of humiliation. Percival had seen him, had seen Newt mating with the hodag. He had taken Newt as a wolf, had seen how lewd and shamefully Newt could be. Modification spilled through him now.

“When I saw you with it, I was so bloody angry. I was jealous and I didn’t think, I just…fuck. I shouldn’t have ever, it was wrong.”

Newt nodded his head weakly, so Percival thought he was wrong. Newt had mated with the wolf many times. Had openly enjoyed it. Had Percival been disgusted with him, seeing Newt revel in such things.

“Say something please.”

Newt peered at the grass.

“I…I’m going to bed now,” he decided and Percival didn’t protest as Newt got up and left. His feet led the way and Newt blinked when he found himself in front of his old room. The idea of going into Percival’s room had no real appeal, Newt didn’t want to have to wait for him to come to bed, to see if he would even touch him again.

So Newt went into the old bed an curled up under the cold blankets. His stuffed niffler was set on the pillows and he curled it up under his chin, feeling very much like a stupid child. His mum’s voice hummed in his ears, soothing away the ache. He wished she was there for real, not just a ghostly memory.


Everyone noticed something way off. No one said anything but Newt could feel their worried looks.

Percival went back to work for the week and Newt was relived. He crawled back into their bed and curled up on pillows that smelt like the man. It hadn’t been long since they married but Newt found he slept poorly without a reminder of the man. How was he supposed to manage without now? What if Percival didn’t want him now?

Newt pressed his face into the pillow. He thought of all the secrets he told the wolf, how many times he had admitted to loving Percival to him. Humiliation rolled through him in waves and Newt felt pulled down by them. Betrayal that Percival had let him as well, just let him spill his secrets to him without ever knowing who he truly was.

He went on evening walks, bundling up to guard his growing stomach against the cold of the season.

Newt watched the nifflers rush to prepare for winter, snatching bits of food from the kitchens and straw from the stables as much as shiny bits of this and that. There were more creatures about, hurrying to be ready for the cold season.

It surprised Newt to see a hodag of all things, pacing in the trees.

Could it be the same one?

It seemed to know Newt, watching him with its red eyes. He felt a rush of shame, recalling what he had done with it, letting it mate him as he had.

“How have you been?” Newt called, glancing back at the house before approaching the beast.

It sniffed the air and paced, peering at Newt’s belly.

“Oh, yes. I’m pregnant now. I’ve a husband too, so nothing naughty. But I’m glad to see you, I worried after Percival chased you and fought you as he had.”

The hodag tipped its head curiously.

“Percival is my wolf, and my husband as well, it turns out. Quiet the shock really. I’m still getting used to the idea of it. He only confessed recently.”

Newt felt the night’s chill begin to seep into his bones and he pulled his coat around his body tighter.

“I’ll see you again, good night,” he told the hodag and waved before going back to the house.

Newt curled up in bed, bringing his stuffed niffler into Percival’s room and snuggling with it. He felt a bit young for it, but it brought him such comfort of late. Reminding him of his mum and soothing the fears in him. Perhaps it was pregnancy hormones, making him think of his own parents as he began to prepare to become one as well. He hoped he was a good mother. He peered at the toy, running his fingers over its little head. He could recall her so easily, the way she would walk out in the forest with Newt and help him find magical creatures to watch. She would sing songs and his pa would swing Theseus around while Newt watched and clapped. They hadn’t a great deal of wealth but they had been happy. Newt hoped that for his child above all, happiness.

He looked at the empty bedside and hoped everything with Percival would work out. He was the child’s father, his sire. Newt wanted him to be a part of their lives.


The week went by too quickly and Newt grew anxious by Thursday. Tomorrow Percival would come home and they would have to talk, to discuss all the things that had happened. Newt was still upset that Percival had lied to him for so long, pretending to be a wolf. But he also knew it wasn’t enough to undo Newt’s love for him. He was deeply hurt but he did want to try and repair this. Percival had mentioned what they had done was wrong though, that what Newt and the wolf had done was wrong. Was he disgusted with Newt?

He couldn't sleep, worrying over all the possible outcomes.

Something down the hall fell with a loud bang and Newt jumped, twisting to look at the bedroom door. It was late, everyone should be in bed by now. Newt went to the door and opened it, peering down the dark hall.

Something about it felt wrong.

It made him freeze and something cold ran through him. Newt closed the door and locked it carefully.

“Wibbly?” He called softly and felt something sour in his chest when the house elf didn’t immediately appear. She might be sleeping but Newt knew it wasn’t likely. Wibbly had always answered his calls, night or day.

Fear crawled over his skin and Newt pushed away from the door, looking around the room and staring at the fireplace. He picked up a handful of floor powder and tossed it into the flames, watching the color of them twist with magic.

“Percival,” he called softly, glancing at the door. “Percival, please wake up.”

Newt jerked when he heard a familiar whine.

Blinking, he stared at the door.

A soft scratching came and the hodag whined again.

Newt stood up, hurrying to the bed and grabbing his stuffed niffler, the one thing he couldn’t leave behind. He jerked when the door banged suddenly, the wood groaning and bowing but not giving way.

Newt gathered a handful of floo powder and prepared to leave, to go to the apartment in New York. He’d done it on his own a few times and was certain he could again.

The door shattered with a sudden, violent, spell.

Newt hurried to get out of the way of the splinters, ducking behind Percival’s heavy wood desk.

“Darling boy,” someone called, a man he didn't know. Newt shivered and peered over the desk. Someone was in the house. Where was the house elves? Where was Queenie and Tina, both trained to be able to defend. Credence and Jacob, surely the noise had woken them. Newt swallowed down bile, afraid for the reason why they hadn’t come.

“Come out here, sweetling,” the man coaxed and Newt ducked back down, clutching his stuffed niffler tightly.

“Don’t you recognize me?”

He was suddenly right there, leaning on the desk and peering down at Newt. His mismatched eyes seeming alight and amused, but there was something terrible and cruel in them as well.

Newt shook his head, trying to crawl away.

“Come now, we’ve had such a special time together. How you moaned like a whore for me.”

Newt stared, his stomach turning.

“You’re the… hodag?”

“Clever aren’t you? Didn’t take you long to realize that. Imagine my shock to find out your wolf was Mister Graves. You do draw in the nasty ones, don't you?” He whirled away, peering around the room. His fingers ran along the wall and the bookshelf shuddered before exploding, books flying everywhere. Newt felt magic hum on his skin, protection charms flaring.

“Your more special that you know, dear boy. Did you know your mom came from a great family? The noble house of Gaunt. I always did admire that they believe in blood purity, that muggles were filth.”

Newt winced when the dresser split with a great crack, bits soaring in the air. He curled hands over his stomach, willing his child to be safe. The charms flared again but Newt could feel a dark magic prodding them, seeking a way around them. 

“I thought you were another dud. I came all this way to find you and nothing. But you were pretty. So I fucked you. I was about to tear your throat out when your wolf came to the rescue. But then I realized he had done me a favour, that you might not even know what you had.”

He whirled to face Newt.

“Or do you?”

The man pointed his wand at Newt, the desk shuddering in front of him and sliding towards Newt. He tried to get out of the way but it caught him, pinning his body to the wall, pressing against his hip and pushing on his belly. The charms around him hummed with magic, safeguarding him. But the dark magic was seeping into them, making them fade and the desk began to crush his legs and press into his stomach.

“Stop!” He cried desperately, scrambling to prevent it. His hands pushed at the desk and he felt it shuddered under his own magic rising up in desperation.

“That’s the problem with pregnancy, you’re rather delicate.”

“I don’t know what you want, I don’t understand,” he pushed harder at the desk, putting all his magic behind keeping it away from his body. It groaned under the strain of the two forces, pressing but not crushing him.

The fireplace lit in green and the stranger looked to it. Newt’s magic flung the desk away from him the second the dark magic wavered, sending it hurtling towards the intruder. He twisted and caught it without using his wand, slamming it away as Percival appeared.

Thank Merlin he was an auror because he reacted immediately, his wand drawn and spells thrown at once. The intruder fought them off and tossed his own. They began a furious duel, violent magic flying everywhere. Newt scrambling to his feet, cupping his belly as he hurried around the fighting to escape. A curse tossed his way made him jerk away from the door just as a blast blew the door off.

Percival snarled, casting faster spells in reaction. He put himself in front of Newt and protected him. Newt looked around the room, trying to find a way out. The fireplace took a hard spell and cracked right down the middle. The windows shattered and Newt ducked away from the glass. He fell back into the bathroom, crashing into the sink. Everything clattering down off the shelves.

Newt stared at the shaving razor.

The whole house seemed to shudder under the fight, magic slamming back and forth. Newt could feel something wrong with the house, the wards misshapen and trying to right themselves, to answer to Percival. 

When it seemed clear enough, the stranger distracted, Newt tried to make it to the door again. A spell came at him and threw him to the floor. His stomach cramping on the impact.

“No, no,” Newt whispered, cupping his middle frantically.

“Newt,” Percival’s magic surrounded him, pushing him to the door safely. But the moment's distraction cost him dearly. A spell catching his shoulder and sending him flying into the wall.

Newt sucked in a sob, not running away but watching as his husband crumpled to the floor with a terrible sound.

Abandoning the door, he rushed to Percival’s side, checking him frantically as he knelt beside him.

“Percival,” he whispered, looking for the rise and fall of his chest.

“I don’t think he’ll be getting up,” the intruder said with a horrid cheer. He came up behind Newt looking over his shoulder casually.

When a hand landed on his shoulder Newt sobbed. As the man dragged him up, Newt opened the razor in one hand. He swung it up and the stranger didn’t expect Newt to fight him.

It was one of the worst things Newt would ever see, the sudden river of blood splattering everywhere.

Newt watched with wide eyes as the man clutched at his slit throat in vain, the blood pouring like a tap, so much coming so fast.

He looked away as the man crumpled to the floor, gasping and gagging. Newt dropped the bloody razor to the floor and stepped back, turning to kneel at Percival’s side and gently rest his head in his lap.

His chest wasn’t moving.

Newt fought more tears, swallowing down the emotions as he pressed the stuffed niffler to the man’s chest and rested his head on it, praying desperately.

“Newt? Newt!” Tina was calling, thumping up the stairs. Others with her, their stomping feet sounding so loud. Newt ignored them and just prayed tearfully, lifting his head to stare at his mum.


The hours that followed were a blur to Newt, people coming and going. Healers checking his body, reassuring him the child was safe, telling him how Percival was doing. Aurors who asked him endless questions, until Newt’s voice was hoarse. He had killed a man and they made him tell the story over and over. Newt would live with it for the rest of his life, he really didn’t see why they wanted him to keep telling them the details.

The intruder was dead.

Newt had killed him.

Had killed Gellert Grindelwald, a rising dark wizard who had been committing crimes all over the world apparently.

It only took a few hours for someone to tell the press. For the following weeks, they would run the story all over the world. About a daring duel in the Graves manor, the wards turned dark to keep everyone out. Leaving only Percival Graves himself to defend his young husband, pregnant with his child. Newt wasn't even sure how Percival had gotten in, perhaps the dark wizard hadn't been able to turn the house against the owner.

In the papers, Percival was the one to deal the blow that killed the man and Newt was glad for it. Glad to remain no one in the eyes of the world, the delicate husband who no one paid attention too.

It was important it be that way.

It was important.

The secret.

Newt supposed Grindelwald had chased down every member of his mother’s family, looking for a myth.

It was important it be just a myth.

If Newt had too, he would send it away, somewhere no one would find it.


Tina arrived at some point, curling an arm around Newt and staying with him the entire time. She answered the questions she knew for him and defended him when the aurors pressed too hard.

“You’re good at that,” he noted when they were left alone. His fingers nails were still bloodstained he realized, they had wiped them but not thoroughly. His hand’s hadn’t stopped shaking yet but he had also refused potions to sedate him. Newt didn’t want to feel a false calm, not while he waited to here about Percival.

They had looked him over, pronounced him fine, given him a few supplements for the baby and left him be. They took his blood stained clothing and now he was dressed in a white gown and light robe. Tina had mentioned Queenie was coming and she would bring a change of clothing at some point. Perhaps when she arrived Newt could shower and clean properly. The blood under his nails was bothering him.

“Aurors mean well but they can direct their ire on the wrong people all too easily. I always had trouble with that sort when I worked as one.”

“You were an auror?” Newt felt raw, as if he had been dragged over hot coals, his entire body was drained and his emotions long worn down. Percival was still being treated and no one had told Newt anything about the extent of his injuries. Wouldn’t they tell him if his husband was in danger? Swallowing back the fear, he took the small distraction Tina was offering by conversation.

“I was, for a long time actually. I’d only been working in the stables for a few years before you arrived. Mr. Graves only hired me on because I think he felt bad for me.”

Tina leaned back in the little chair beside the bed, Newt laid on the bed itself with a too thin blanket on his lap.

“But I was fired by the president herself and he wasn’t the Director then, he couldn’t overturn it. I think part of him thought it was better I left, when I couldn't just let it go.”

“What happened?”

“I found out about this no maj, she was a fanatic about witches and we kept an eye on her. When I was looking in, I learned she was abusing the children she adopted. A young man especially, she did such horrid things to him.”

Newt had never known this about Tina, for some reason he had thought she had always worked with hippogriffs. She was good at it and never seemed as if it wasn't the job she wanted.

“But he was a no maj and so I was told to leave it alone. But I promised to help him and I couldn’t just leave him there. I was reprimanded and when I didn’t fall in line…”

Tina shrugged.

“There’s a very deep divide between us and no maj. Sometimes I think it hinders more than helps. In the end, the young man wasn’t even a no maj, he was a wizard. He was raised by a horrid magic-hating woman, a boy with magic, and no one had ever noticed him.”

“Did you help him?”

“I did. I lost my job but I managed to help him and his sister’s escape. The girls stayed in the city and Credence eventually came to work for Mr. Graves. I think I was more grateful to him for hiring Credence that I was for my own job.”

“Credence?” Newt pictured the young man with the soft voice and could see the sort of story Tina was telling. He had always assumed Credence came from a terrible past but had never wanted to push just to know.

Tina sighed out, smiling weakly. “He overcame it in the end. And he’s become a wonderful man.”

Newt nodded in agreement. Silence settled over them once more and the anxiety began to climb up Newt’s throat once more.

“Everyone is alight? Back home.” He was certain he had asked already, maybe more than once but for some reason the answer seemed ambiguous when he tried to recall it.

“Yes. Everyone is fine, a bit shaken up but safe. The house wards turned on us. Queenie and Jacob received a fake message from me to lure them out of the house and then it refused to let them back in. We thought it was just a mistake at first. But then Wibbly and the house elves were forced out and we realized something was truly wrong. We had begun-” Tina cut off when the door knocked and a healer stepped in.

Newt sat up, peering at the healer as she offered a polite smile.

“Is it about Percival?” He blurted and she nodded, Newt’s chest feeling like it was trembling with a mix of relief and trepidation.

“He will be fine; he’s very banged up but we’ve tended to the worst of it.”

“What are the injuries?” Tina inquired.

“Broken bones, lacerations, deep tissue bruising, internal damage, curse damage, there’s a long list. He’s very lucky to have survived, given the harm done. But his body is strong and he’s already recovering.”

“But he’ll be ok?” Newt asked and she nodded with a more sympathetic smile. 

“He’s woken for a bit, he’ll have to take potions to sleep and heal properly but he’s agitated and trying to refuse. The head healer thought perhaps his husband would visit to assure him you and the baby are alright.”


Newt wasn’t allowed to walk, they pushed him in a chair into the critical ward. Percival didn’t look as bad as Newt feared, his serious injuries already healed or healing rapidly. But he looked utterly exhausted, which was telling in itself.

Newt ignored the healer and left the chair to crawl onto the bed once they reached it. Percival immediately curled his arm around him and Newt took care not to put any weight on him.

“How are you?” Percival rasped and Newt fought a sudden urge to laugh or cry. Everything had simply been far too much and he felt it threaten to bubble over. But he managed to rein it back down.

“I’m utterly terrible,” he answered and Percival grinned at the honesty, looking more handsome and perfect then Newt had ever seen him. Alive and still here with Newt.

“I’m sorry for everything, for lying.”

Newt pressed his cheek to Percival’s arm and just left himself accept that the man was alive, that he hadn’t lost him. It still felt surreal but as long as Percival was alright, Newt would manage.

“It doesn’t matter. I might be upset again later and there’s a lot we have to figure out yet, but it doesn’t matter right now.” He would care later, in a few weeks perhaps the humiliation and betrayal would return. But all that mattered was Percival was there and he was going to be ok. That they had survived and their baby too.

“I love you,” Percival announced and Newt felt his eyes burn with tears all over again. His emotions utterly a mess.

“I love you too. And I think we can work with that.”

Percival nodded weakly, his eyelids drooping as the healer arrived to dispense more potions. He took them this time and Newt sat with him until he fell asleep.


Percival still walked with a bit of a limp many months later. It would take time to recover fully, the healers said, a year at least. But he would recover. The healers had mentioned more than once that Percival was very lucky to have survived. The injuries together would have killed a lesser man.

Newt couldn’t imagine a life without Percival. He had become far too important to him and they were going to have a future together. Newt was going to be a magizoologist and he was going to change the way the world looked at magical creatures. He was going to do that with his husband at his side and their children in their arms. It was the only future he would accept.

“And they all lived happily ever after,” he finished the story. Morrigan gurgled at him, still too young to truly understand but Newt liked reading to her. He had been raised on the stories of Beedle the Bard like many young wizard and witches and it seemed fitting that his daughter would too.

The bedroom was fixed now, it had been before Newt had even returned to the manor. Everything looked as it had before, but sometimes Newt blinked and for a brief second it was in ruins. It would take time, just as it would take time for Percival to heal fully, so would Newt. His hands were bloodstained now but Newt knew he would rather be a killer than be killed. Percival talked with him about it sometimes, he understood as an auror. In the line of duty, he had taken lives and seen others do so to defend themselves. It hung over Newt some days but did not haunt him.

The bedroom door was usually left open, they rarely closed it. The heavy wood replaced with glass and a curtain to cover it for privacy. Something about seeing it closed made Newt uneasy. So if he wasn’t face down naked on the bed, the door was open. Percival didn’t seem to mind the odd quirk. But Newt imagined he could ask for the moon and the man would try to figure out how to give it to him. Newt had long forgiven Percival for his deception but the man’s guilt lingered. It usually manifested in the form of extravagant gifts. Newt just hoped with their daughter born, Percival would be distracted spoiling her.

“Because you needed a baby blanket that probably cost more than I want to know,” he cooed and Morrigan giggled, feet kicking out as Newt tickled her lightly.

“Hardly as bad as you think,” Percival’s voice made him start a bit, straightening up from the crib to turn and see him. He left the door and came into the room, curling a hand on Newt’s waist and kissing him in greeting. He had come home early. Since the attack, Percival came home every night, making the trip from the city to the manor.

“How are you?” He enquired and Newt fought a fond smile in answer. He doubted the question would ever lose its charm. The words wrapped up in endless significance for them both now.

“I’m tired, I’m still worried something might pop out of closed doors, I might always be. I’m also worried about the niffler with the injured leg in the garden,” he listed off, teasing a bit as Percival wound his arms around him, amused.

“I’m also a bit…” Newt trailed off, glancing at the man, peering at him with a coy smile.

Percival chuckled then, his warm hands sliding down Newt’s thighs in a carnal manner. It felt wonderful and his sighed happily.

“Yes, that.”

“Shall we have an early nap then?”

Newt hesitated and Percival raised a brow, after a moment, he knew. He always knew, Newt’s wonderful husband.

“Perhaps a wolf will come to bed?”

Newt felt a thrill run up his spine.

His perfect husband, so delighted with Newt’s dirty wicked side, not disgusted at all it turned out. A misunderstanding after all of Newt’s worrying. Percival enjoyed it just as much as Newt and they indulged, Newt getting both the man and beast as he pleased. Once the hurt faded, Newt realized how much of a gift it was. That the two beings he loved deeply were the same. 

It disturbed him far more to know the hodag was a person, a stranger who took advantage of him. That a dark wizard had touched him, had used him in such a way. Percival was his wolf but his wolf had been a dear friend and Percival loved Newt. It probably wasn’t supposed to be his reaction, to accept that Percival took advantage as well, but Newt couldn’t help how he felt. His wolf and husband were the same man and he was happy with him.


Newt turned and leaned down into the crib to press a soft kiss to his daughter’s brow. Morrigan was already dozing off, a darling baby that slept without trouble. She was still young enough to sleep in their room with them. Newt despaired for the moment she had to go into her own room and he couldn’t just turn his head and see her sleeping soundly. Motherhood had come unexpectedly, but Newt found he very much liked it.

“I might want another one,” he mused lightly and Percival chuckled against his neck.

“We did make a fantastic child, didn’t we?”

Newt hummed in agreement.

“Queenie would like more children in the house as well. Ever since she found out she was finally pregnant, she’s been dreaming of a full house. I heard her trying to convince Tina to try with Credence.”

“I always thought I would have liked a sibling growing up,” Percival considered.

“Then at least one more?”

“How many children are you trying to get from me?”

“Many,” Newt teased. He turned to face his husband and step in close to press a sweet kiss to his mouth. Percival answered and Newt couldn’t imagine a more perfect life. Everything he could have hoped for was his for the taking and all the most important things were already his.

Morrigan slept on in her crib, snuggled up to the stuffed niffler.


“Newt, come here,” his mum called him and Newt looked up from the stream with the hopping frogs. There were in the forest together, going for a walk before she and Papa had to go on their trip.

Newt went to her side obediently and his mum hugged him tightly, her flowery smell and warm feel comforting Newt to his very bones. She pulled him into her lap and clung so hard, seeming upset by something.

“What’s w’ong?” he asked and his mum shook her head, kissing his hair.

“Nothing my little love. Everything will be ok. I love you so much, my dear.”

Newt nodded his head, smiling up to her.

“I want to tell you a story, I think you know it already,” she teased and Newt brightened to hear something exciting.

“The dragons?”

His mum shook her head.

“The occamy and the egg?”

Mum laughed and hugged Newt tight.

“My wild little boy, running with his creatures. Don’t even change.”


“Do you recall the tale of Three Brothers?”

Newt thought for a moment, fingers playing with his mum’s skirt.

“Scary,” he decided and his mum hummed in agreement. She pushed hair from his face and rained kisses down on to his face until he was giggling.

“It is, but it’s very important. The Three Brothers and the Deathly Hallows. It’s about the dangers Newt. About using power and protecting it from those that would use it for bad things. An invisible cloak, a powerful wand, and a resurrection stone.”

Newt nodded his head obediently, his mum had told him this story many times, always about protecting others and keeping secrets.

“The world is a safer place because the Hallows are lost. They need to stay lost.”

Newt looked up at his mum, frowning at her sad face. Something was wrong, but she had said there was nothing wrong. His mum had to be right.

Pulling him against her snuggly, she turned Newt so he sat facing away from her. Resting her chin in his hair, he watched as she waved her wand. He laughed out loud as her apron slipped out from under him, floating in the air.

With another wave of her wand, grass cut from the earth and floated up as well. Leaves came down from the trees and his mum opened her hand to reveal hay from papa’s farm field.

“A bit of your home, to keep you safe, wherever you go,” she whispered, like she was casting a spell.

Newt watched as it all curled up together, a long string stitching the apron into something new.

His mum held up a ring, a big black stone in the middle.

“A secret Newt, so no one can use it for bad.”

He watched her tuck it into the cloth and finish the stitching. A delightful stuffed niffler came into shape and Newt clapped his hands in happiness. He reached for it and his mum floated it into his waiting arms.

“My darling son, it special secret, that no one will ever know. You'll take care of it?”

Newt smiled up at her.

“Promise me? It’s important," she insisted softly.

“'Promise, mum.”

Newt could keep a secret.