His Only || Newt Scamander

Despondency

This is book two for my Newt Scamander series - make sure you have read the first one before this!

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His eyes opened and attempted to focus on the ceiling above him. His eyebrows knitted as he found his brain rerouting to what it last saw before he was rudely awoken to consciousness. He turned his head to the empty space next to him - the covers of the bed neatly folded along that side.

It was such a good dream.

Within a few minutes, Newt was up and dressed to visit his creatures in the basement, knowing his home caretaker would be arriving soon to take over.

In the couple months he'd been home, he'd been focused on helping his newly pregnant beasts, keeping his brother at bay, and staying in touch with his publisher.

He knew it was all to distract him.

Descending the steps into his fully stocked animal hospital, Newt rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt and straightened his suspenders. He trailed over to his Augurey nesting area and found the ash colored bird peering eerily from within its tear-shaped nest. It pecked at nearby brambles as Newt approached, whistling under his breath.

"Hello, Osceola," he examined the mournful-looking bird from afar, cocking his head. "Your beak still appears to be infected. I'll go out for nose drop ingredients while running errands today."

The bird turned its yellow eyes up and down Newt before uttering a low, throbbing cry towards the air. Newt seemed to have understood because he nodded his head and flicked his wand to the air above the Augurey nest. Within an instant major thunderclouds crackled and formed to produce extremely heavy rainfall. The Augurey, Osceola, gave another cry that was much more cheerful, taking off and beating against the harsh raindrops.

Newt smiled and sighed, his eyes lazily drifting to another beast he must take care of. This time to a makeshift shed that was used to house various amounts of greenish fungus. The wood of the crumbling building was rotting away and it was immensely evident based on the foul stench of decay.

The wizard waved his wand and conjured a Bubble Head Charm, protecting himself from the fumes. Once he reached the failing structure, the multiple bunches of fungus suddenly sprouted numerous spindly legs and scuttled along the wood frames of the slanting windows and broken floorboards.

Satisfied with the newfound movement of the Bundimun, Newt ventured to a dimly lit forested area, his hands in his pockets. The Bubble Head Charm popped and three tiny, blue speckled birds came fluttering around him. One of them was very obviously more sickly than the others and struggled to stay in flight, the other two companions assisting when they could.

The little Jobberknolls gazed towards Newt as he held out a hand for the sickly bird to land. It proceeded to do so and clacked its beak at him.

"What can we do to help him?" an excited voice asked from behind.

Newt turned to see his frazzle haired assistant tying her apron around her waist. She gave a wide smile as he noticed her, and the Jobberknoll rubbed the side of its head against Newt's wrist.

"Elsie here has been suffering from a digestive parasite for a number of days. Her two friends here won't leave her side until she's well, but I fear that we might be too late." He used his other hand to lightly stroke down the birds head and neck, "I've begun a stream of potions that may stop the damage and we'll know if it worked within a matter of weeks."

"How will we know if it worked, exactly?" the assistant questioned, being careful not to intrude on Newt's personal space.

"The Jobberknoll has an immensely remarkable memory. They remember everything that they've ever heard throughout their lifetime. They also don't make any sound until the moment of their death, at which point it lets out a long scream made up of every sound it has ever heard, regurgitated backwards."