Chapter 116: Visit
Newt Scamander and his family lived in Dorset, in the south of England, nestled on a small hillside. Rolling green meadows stretched around them, soft and lush, and from the entrance, one could see a distant Muggle village in the distance. Of course, the same protective spell that shielded Hogwarts was in place here. To Muggles, the hill appeared only as a cluster of bare, rocky outcrops.
Steven Mor, familiar with the house, easily pushed open the wooden door. Inside, a winding garden path unfolded before them. A flock of Sprites flitted among blossoms as large as bowls, dancing with butterflies in a dreamlike swirl. The rustling of Grass Leaves stirred, and a brown-yellow Cat Fox peeked out, its eyes sharp and wary as it fixed its gaze on Wade. Its large ears twitched slightly, alert.
Then came a second Cat Fox. Naturally perceptive, these creatures could sense moral integrity—or the lack of it—in those around them.
"Hi, Hobi, Mili," Steven Mor said cheerfully, crouching down. "Long time no see. Missed me?"
Hobi, recognizing him, relaxed instantly and climbed onto Steven Mor’s shoulder, letting out a soft, cooing sound like a baby. The second Cat Fox approached Wade cautiously, rubbing its claw gently against his trousers before climbing up his leg. Wade, surprised, instinctively reached out to catch it.
"Mili really likes you," Steven Mor said with a smile. "They’re Mr. Scamander’s pets. There’s also one named Mole—though he’s not much for going outdoors."
The two men walked along the stone path into the courtyard, where Newt Scamander already stood at the foot of the staircase, a slender, sharp-eared Cat Fox lounging lazily at his feet.
Newt Scamander was ninety-five. He was not the youthful, shy figure portrayed in films. Time had silvered his hair and etched faint lines into his face, yet it had not dimmed the quiet, earnest quality that defined him. His eyes remained clear and unguarded, and his posture was slightly turned away, as if instinctively avoiding direct eye contact—shy, almost childlike in his demeanor. Even though the two men before him were far younger, less powerful, and socially inferior, he showed no trace of superiority. He seemed fragile, as if afraid of harm, easily vulnerable to evil.
"Good morning, Steven Mor," Newt said, glancing shyly at Wade. "Welcome, Mr. Wade Gray."
Wade bowed slightly. "Please call me Wade. I’ve long admired you. I apologize for intruding—I hope I haven’t caused you any trouble."
"Cannot," Newt replied softly. "I’m glad to see a young wizard eager to learn. It’s a rare joy."
A boy with brown curls emerged from behind Newt, beaming at Wade. "Hello! I heard you invented the Book of Friends?"
"Politeness, Rolf," Newt said gently, but without harshness.
Clearly, the boy’s grandfather was not a stern figure. Rolf stuck out his tongue playfully, then reached forward with a grin.
"Hi, I’m Rolf—Rolf Scamander. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wade Gray, the inventor of the Book of Friends!"
"Nice to meet you," Wade replied, shaking his hand.
"Want to tour my grandfather’s Animal Sanctuary? I’ll be your guide!" Rolf said, enthusiasm bubbling. He tugged at Wade’s sleeve, pulling him forward. Newt and Steven Mor followed behind, smiling.
"Did you visit America recently?" Steven Mor asked.
"Yes," Newt sighed. "I went to see an old friend. About seventy years ago, I sent it there. I never thought I’d have to say goodbye again."
Steven Mor’s eyes widened. "You mean the Thunderbird?"
"Yes," Newt said, voice heavy. "It was injured protecting its young. It never got the chance to heal."
Steven Mor’s face darkened. "Damn poachers! I’ve always dreamed of seeing a Thunderbird with my own eyes—how could they harm such a creature?"
"Then today, your dream may come true," Newt said, forcing a faint smile. "After Frank died, the young one had no protection. So I brought it back to keep it safe."
Rolf, completely absorbed in his own excitement, barely heard his grandfather. He turned to Wade, eyes shining.
"The Book of Friends is incredible! Everyone in my family has one. My grandmother has the most—three all to herself!"
"I have one too!" he added. "One with my grandfather, one with my grandmother, one with my dad and mum, and another with my uncle. Chatting on paper is even better than talking face to face!"
"But there’s one problem," he added. "The messages don’t last long. Sometimes I wake up from a nap, and I’ve missed a message from my mum. Then she’s upset with me—oh, we have to go through here!"
He set down a brown leather suitcase, opened it, and slid inside. Only his upper half remained visible as he waved at Wade.
Then, with a sudden motion, he vanished completely—swallowed whole by the box.
Wade, recalling the scene from the film in his previous life, smiled and followed without hesitation. The suitcase’s entrance was narrow, but inside, Magic had expanded the space into a cozy, private world.
Descending a set of stairs, they entered a small house resembling a storage room, filled with old and curious objects. Wade didn’t have time to examine them closely.
"Come on!" Rolf called from ahead, pushing open a wooden door that looked fragile and worn.
Creak—
The door groaned as it opened, releasing a wave of cool, damp air and the sharp, musky scent of animals.
Before them, a vast and breathtaking world unfolded in an instant.
Wade gasped, his breath stolen. His heart pounded like a drum.
To stand here, in this enchanted space created by Magic—this was utterly different from watching it on a screen. The sheer wonder of it all struck him like a physical force.
Magic…
What a wondrous power…
Rolf, raised here since childhood, was used to it. He barely noticed Wade’s awe. Seeing him frozen in place, he tugged on his arm.
"Come on, follow me! I’ll show you our newest resident!"
They didn’t walk far before they reached a golden desert, dotted with massive stone pillars at its center. Nestled within the hollows of the pillars was a creature—a chick with three pairs of wings and a long, slender tail. It slept peacefully, its feathers swaying gently in the breeze.
Rolf made a silent gesture with his hand, signaling for quiet. He led Wade forward on tiptoe, then motioned for him to mimic his actions—gently extending a finger.
(End of Chapter)
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