Her smile was the real magic to him.
Aside from his beloved magical creatures, Newt Scamander had never found anyone who brought him as much joy as Davina Dumbledore.
The two had first met during their first year at Hogwarts. As fellow Hufflepuffs...
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Davina's voice was tight with stress as she walked beside Newt down the hallway. "So, what's the plan?" She reached up to tug at her hair, her nerves clear. "You've got a plan, right?"
Newt looked at her, searching for the right words, but nothing seemed to come. "I—" he sighed heavily, the weight of the situation and lack of sleep catching up to him. His mind was a mess.
"Davina, I don't know." His voice was strained. "I guess we just have to keep him with us until school's over, then we'll take him back to where he belongs."
"So, we're just carrying him around the whole day?" Davina said, already dreading the trouble it would cause.
"It's only a few hours," Newt muttered, trying to reassure himself more than her as they made their way toward the next classroom.
Davina's eyes darted to Newt's pocket, where she could see two large brown eyes peering back at her. She exhaled. "If this thing comes out during my father's class, we're in serious trouble," she murmured, her thoughts darkening.
Newt didn't need to imagine it—he could already feel his stomach tightening at the thought of Dumbledore finding out about the bowtruckle. The whole situation was a powder keg waiting to explode.
They entered the classroom and slid into their usual seats. Davina immediately started pulling books out of her bag, stacking them high in an attempt to hide any trace of the creature. It was a clever plan, but Newt knew it wouldn't be enough. Not with Dumbledore watching.
Across the room, Albus Dumbledore leaned casually against his desk, studying the pair with an amused look. Something about their fidgeting, their nervous energy, piqued his curiosity.
"Good morning, class," Dumbledore began, his voice warm but sharp. Just as he spoke, there was a loud *thump*—all eyes turned to Newt and Davina. In his attempt to keep the bowtruckle from slipping out of his pocket, Newt had nearly fallen out of his chair.
The little creature darted between desks and benches, poking its head out only to dart back again with a cheeky flick of its tongue. Every movement was risky, every second a danger of exposure.
Davina's heart raced. Her fingers clenched around her wand beneath the desk, ready to use a bit of magic if things got out of hand. She chewed her lip, desperate to keep the situation under control.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, his gaze narrowing at them with a mix of curiosity and amusement. "What exactly are you two doing?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with that familiar, mischievous glint.
