Chapter Text
As the slanting rays of the morning sun rises up and peeking over from behind, enlightens the whole city in a brilliant golden coloration and casting long shadows over tall buildings. A flock of birds flapping their wings overhead, giving out a calm fluttering sound. As the cool breeze wafted over his dark blue coat, the sight was almost as if they were caught in spell. Vivid and bold, undeniably beautiful.
Newt Scamander, a british wizard took a brisk walk along the pavement in New york city clutching a suitcase full of magical creatures firmly in one hand. He passed another block of building, jostling over the rowdy crowd, wedging himself out through poking elbows and finally freed. Surging himself forward with two light steps and he came to an abrupt halt when he heard someone mentioned of witch.
Adjusting his position from where he stood and a futile attempt to smooth out his tousled untidy hair, he teared his gaze upon the building. A dominant looking short- haired woman around her mid-forty stood on top of the stairs. Chin up high, and voice raised higher, she gave the crowd a long tirade, speaking ill about witches with her hands gesturing wildly around her.
All at once, his gaze fleeted across the boy standing beside her when she elbowed him on his side. He almost flinched and scurried himself down the stairs into the crowd handing out flyers with his gaze shot rigidly towards the ground.
Until then when he reached Newt, he mumbled under his breath, voice barely audible. "Here sir, take this one." His voice was smooth and very careful, almost as if stumbling upon his words would led to calamity. "Th-thank you" he said, looking unsure at the boy as he moved along to another crowd, stares solid on the ground. Folding the paper, he shoved it inside his pocket.
Newt couldn't help but noticed how frail and vulnerable this boy was. Along with his lithe figure, wearing a garment almost too tight for him. How his face contorted into a grimace of pain with accidental slight bump on his back from someone passing by.
He couldn't help but noticed too that the woman, probably his mother laughed genuinely with two girls and when the boy approached, she stopped laughing and shot him with a sharp glare, as if his presence was offensive to her.
A wave of concern tugged inside Newt. The crowd slowly dissipating around him and he made his way across the opposite building and stopped at J.Kowalski bakery to grab some pastry for breakfast. The smell was incredibly tempting as he made his way in. As he waited in line, he withdrew the folded flyer out of his pocket and scanned them.
He learned that they were Second Salemers. Not to mentioned their hatred for witches. They lived two blocks away from his temporary stay in the apartment.
He shoved the flyer back when it was his turn to make an order. The man behind the counter smiled broadly at him, "what do you want for an order, sir?" He said almost too excitedly. "Just two strawberry jam puffs" he smiled back as he swiftly packed the pastries into a brown bag and handed it to him. "Enjoy the masterpiece sir." He gave him a dough and grinned.
He savored the puffs whole-heartedly just as he reached his apartment. Shoving one big puff in his mouth at once, the thick paste of the strawberry jam was really a masterpiece. He pinched some of it and gave it to Pickett the bow-truckle that emerged from his pocket.
Enraptured by the strong taste of strawberry, the boy from the second salemers shot across his mind in an instant and suddenly the jam tasted bitter in his mouth. His lips slowly tugging upward thinking at what he could have possibly done to help him.
He had no capable to swipe the forlorn looking stranger off his mind. He's just there, stuck on the brink as the day creeped by at snail's pace. He laid on the couch when the idea popped into his mind, dull-coloured bulb flickered into a bright yellow, he sat up on the couch, reached for his suitcase and flicked open the lock beneath the pad of his thumbs, he climbed downstairs.
Newt wasn't sure why he cared so much about the boy, but he was keen and would do whatever it takes to make the boy happy, a small smile would do and this idea thrilled him.