Infatuation {Newt Scamander x Reader} √

Chapter Six

"Hey, Newt?" you ask quietly from where you're lying on the small wooden bed.

"Yes?" he replies, forlorn.

"Do you think your creatures left any...signs? Anything we can follow?"

Newt rolls over to face you, his face shadowed. "How could they? They must have been happy to go, if whoever did this took them out without me knowing." When he speaks, he sounds almost angry.

You soften your tone a bit. "Newt, I understand that you feel bad, but we need to take action. And feeling bad does nothing in the long run."

"You're right."

"Hey," you say, propping your head up on a hand. "We're magic. We can find then, somehow. If not, we can go to someone for help."

"We can't ask anyone for help," Newt says quietly. "Nobody knows that I have these creatures. They're sort of...illegal. Secret. My point is, nobody can know."

You're touched that he would trust you with such a hugely important secret. "Thank you for sharing this with me, Newt," you whisper.

Silence.

"Newt," you say gently.

He doesn't answer.

"Newt?"

You hear him breathing evenly and can tell that he's asleep. "Goodnight, Newt."

***

When you open your eyes, you can tell something's not right. First off, it's too quiet. You would expect lots of noise and excitement from all of the creatures, but as you sit up, pushing the blankets down the bed, all the ones that you can see are asleep. "What's going on?" you wonder. This has to be the work of a sleeping potion.

You step out of bed and into your boots, lacing them up to your mid-thigh. Only then do you realize that Newt's not asleep on the floor anymore. "Newt," you call, "do you want me to fix breakfast? Do you have any food down here?"

The only response is a slight breeze whistling through the hairline cracks in the walls.

"Hey!" you shout a bit louder. None of the animals respond; they must have been fed some sort of potion. "Newt!"

You begin to look around in the different habitats, scanning them for Newt's messy hair or bright smile and kind eyes. "Where are you?" you say quietly to yourself. You're starting to be genuinely worried. "Newt?"

When you're met with more silence, the realization sinks in.

Newt's gone.