I know y'all like Mr. Salamander so here's some one shots. ❤️️
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Highest ranking #91 in Fanfiction, #1 in Newt Scamander one Shots, #4 in imagines, #7 in stables, and #5 under Newt Scamander
Winner of the 2017 Fanfiction Awards
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February 14th, 1910
There he was. For the first time in three years. Walking down the street in a blue coat and yellow scarf, acting totally normal. He looked so grown-up, so at ease; it seemed unfair to you, that you found you couldn't breathe and he was perfectly alright. That was always his strength and your weakness: not caring and caring too much.
You couldn't help but stare. You'd heard that people felt it when other people were watching them, but you didn't believe it until the cruel hand of karma swept down and turned Newt's eyes to yours, laughing in the sharp wind that stung your eyes. With a gasp, you turned your back on him, cursing the twist of fate that brought you back to him on Valentine's day of all days.
"(Y/N)!" You heard him call timidly over the rumble of the mid-afternoon traffic.
It wasn't fair for this to happen on today of all days, you decided. So you ran. You ran down the street, into an alley between a baker's shop and a JC Penny, and ducked out of sight in a small alcove.
You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the racing of your heart. You tried to focus on anything else but the thought of Newt Scamander's imminent arrival: your book club later that afternoon, the new curtains you purchased for your flat, the nice bloke from work who asked you out to dinner.
It seemed you couldn't help it. Newt was always there, lingering. You didn't want to face the life you left behind at Hogwarts- you didn't want to face him. Not after what happened.
"(Y/N)?" You heard your name ring through the small alley in his voice, so much clearer and horrifying without the background noise of New York. "(Y/N), I know you're over here. I saw you."
You kept quiet. Not today. Please, just not today.
"Please, I just want to talk. I-I'm not even totally sure if it's really you, but..." you heard him sigh. "I just want to talk."
You refused to speak. Fate could go pick on someone else.
"I-is it you, (Y/N)? I really hope it is. This would be terribly embarrassing if it weren't."
Nothing. He sighed again. "Fine," he murmured. You heard him set something down- something heavy by the thunk that rang throughout the alley- and rummage around. "There you are! Go, go look. It's what you do best, hm?"
You dared to peek out from the alcove ever-so-slightly. Newt was huddled over a small, violet winged creature with a trail of beady eyes following it's spine.
A Norwegian Eye-Back. Excellent trackers.
Damn.
The Eye-Back perked up, flashing small flaps along its ears. It crawled further into the alley and crowed in Newt's direction, delighted to serve its mother. It skittered around in a wide circle, flashing those unsettling flaps that you knew was finding you.
