Evanescent || Newt Scamander x Reader

16

______ was lying on the floor, looking beat to hell, tied up, her back to him. She didn't even hear him come in, and he could hear her crying, even as she was trying to be quiet.

What is going on? Newt thought. He didn't know what to do at first, he just stood there, in shock. He felt like someone had just put a knife though his chest, and his heart was in his throat. This was worse than he could've imagined. This was the last thing he'd ever want to see. Even though his throat felt tight and his chest hurt, Newt finally managed to say something. "______!" he exclaimed, and he ran over to her, lying on the floor.

Her crying, at the moment, was the only indication she was still alive. She was so hurt, so shocked to see Newt, she didn't have anything to say. Looking into his eyes, knowing that maybe what just happened was over, she began to cry all over again. She couldn't get any words out through the sobs.

Newt examined her physical wounds. Her face was scratched and beat to hell, and her blouses arms had been ripped so they only went to her forearms. When he saw what had been written on her arm, he wanted to start crying with her. He wanted to hug her, to tell her she was okay now, to assure her he was there.

The word "Muggle" had been written on her arm in horrible, sloppy handwriting.

Newt didn't want to ask what else had been done to her. He wanted to just get her out of here, and he wanted to see whoever could've done this. This was the first time he had ever felt so protective over her, so angry at something someone did. Nothing compared to this. He didn't want to hear what she had to endure while he was unconscious and looking for her – but she felt like she had to tell him.

Her sobs had finally started to die down, and she seemed to be able to talk through them now. "Newt, I, I..." she began.

"Sh," he told her, sitting her up. "Take it slow. Don't hurt yourself."

She had one question on her mind: she needed to know what that spell was the dark wizard had used on her. He had said it over and over, letting it affect her in waves, letting it torture her. The pain it brought was consuming, and whenever it hit, it was as if pins, needles, and knifes were being pieced into every square inch of her body. He would write one letter, say the spell, write another letter, say the spell...

"Newt, what is 'crucio?'" she asked. The word rolled off her tongue with pain, as if just saying it would bring the pain back. As if her saying it would make her experience it all over again.

Newt's eyes widened at hearing the word. He recognized it as Cruciatus Curse, one of the Unforgiveable Curses. Just using it once would guarantee you a trip to Azkaban, the wizarding prison. It wasn't something you used lightly, it wasn't something people could so soon get over...

It wasn't something he'd wish upon even his worst enemy.

"It's an unforgiveable curse," he began to tell her in a slow voice. He was afraid if he spoke at any other tone, it might hurt her. He wasn't sure how, but he feared it. "It tortures its victim with unbearable pain. People have been known to be driven into insanity with it."

Just at hearing this piece of information, ______ started crying all over again. Newt, not knowing what ese to do, pulled her into a hug. "Hey, hey, listen. We're going to get out of here, we're going to leave, and we're never going to come back. We're going to forget this ever happened." He told her.

That's what he wanted to happen. Looking at her arm, though, he knew that it would scar. He knew she was going to forever be reminded that she is a Muggle, as if it was the worst thing a person could be. As if being a Muggle was like being dirt that people could, and would, step all over, like it meant you were worthless.