when things go wrong | harry potter

Chapter One

"There we go, feeling better?" 

The bird chirruped happily and nestled into his hands.

Newt slid the small, bandaged bird off his hands and into a box. He smiled down at it. Taking out his notebook, he looked at the bird thoroughly and wrote down what species he thought it was. He did a quick sketch, outlining its main features and used his quill to label the colours and patterns. Newt looked at the birds' feet and feathers to get a precise reading. He took his magnifying glass from his coat pocket and looked at the beak. Small bumps forming an odd pattern could be seen.

"Well, you're no normal-looking bird, are you?" Newt chuckled. "Black feathers, odd-looking beak? You must be a starling!" 

He placed his notebook on his bed and picked the bird up in his hands. Quickly hurrying down his stairs, he ran to the edge of the woods near his house and knelt on the floor.

"Even though you aren't a very impressive bird, I haven't seen one of your kind like you. Especially one who wandered so far away from his flock." Newt frowned. "Run along now."

Opening his hands, he dropped the starling to the floor and the bird stepped out uncertainly. It looked up at the eight-year old boy and he gave it a small nudge.

"Don't worry, little starling. You're all cured now." he smiled widely.

He sat down, cross-legged, on the ground and watched the bird wander into the woods. It looked around for a bit, getting used to its surroundings, then took to the sky. It flew up into a tree and nestled in. Newt looked into the woods, narrowing his eyes for any other creatures when he heard a familiar voice coming from afar.

"Dinner's ready, Newton!" Arabella Scamander called.

Newt got up and quickly hurried back to the house, his pockets jingling with small microscopes, magnifying glasses and other trinkets. He ran upstairs, took off his jacket, hid his notebook in his bedside cabinet and ran back downstairs to the kitchen.

"Is there anything I could possibly help with, mother?" Newt smiled.

"Well, you could lay the table?" Arabella suggested.

"I'll get right to it!" 

He took three plates from his mother and started placing them at the end of the table. His father sat at the head of the table whilst his mother sat opposite him. He neatly placed them around and laid out the cutlery when he heard a small roar coming from outside. The door had momentarily been opened from his father walking in, so he dashed passed and into the garden.

"Newt Scamander, come back here!" his father called after him.

"Leave him be, Reginold. He has a wild imagination." Arabella told her husband.

They both watched their son run into the woods whilst they stood by the door, idly watching him.