Chapter Text
Harry Potter was sitting on a swing in the park, his feet barely touching the ground, and the cold pre-evening chill was just starting to send shivers down his spine. He curled in on himself a little, holding his arms around his thin and overly large shirt, and tried to stay hidden for just a little longer. He swung his legs back and forth, making the old swing creak with the wind. He let out a low sigh as the sun began to sink past the edge of the horizon, and slowly got up off the swing - making sure not to jar any of his bruises after the most recent game of Harry Hunting- when a strange noise, almost like the backfiring of a car, sounded from nearby.
"...CASE! Is everyone...Picket! Alright, what......Tina?....Tina?"
Harry looked around a shrub and saw that a strange man was muttering to himself, sitting on the ground next to a large suitcase. He had messy hair, a coat that looked much too thick for the weather, and a bright yellow scarf. He was patting himself down, when he tilted his head towards his collar, leaning slightly in Harry's direction. He slowly straightened up, and picked up the briefcase that was by his feet.
"Can you come out from behind there, please?" the man spoke, his face flashing in Harry's direction, making Harry freeze.
Harry took half a step back, and then carefully peered around the side of the hedge.
The man looked over at him in surprise, and then a warm smile filled his face, "Oh, hello! Umm, yes, I'm Newt." The man looked around the park for a few moments, before swinging his head back in Harry's direction,"Yes, well, um, would you mind telling me where I am?"
Harry blinked, first at the name, which he was sure his Aunt would say was not normal at all, and then slowly shuffled a bit further out from behind the bush, "...Little Whinging, Surrey."
The man-Newt- blinked in response, and he slowly sat down on the ground, carefully facing Harry the entire time, "And where is Surrey?"
"London," Harry responded, and then after a moment, "England...are you an alien like they talk about on the telly?"
"An alien! No, no, I mean most of those stories were just usually creatures or other...England?" Newt blinked for a moment, before taking a good look around, seeming to stare at the streetlights and the park structures.
Harry watched as the man's face began to pale, and he looked back at Harry with a strange expression.
"And, uh, would you mind telling me what year it is?"
"1988," Harry replied, looking at the man curiously.
"1988!" The man jumped to his feet, his sudden movement startling Harry, and he accidentally put some weight on his bruised ankle, making him fall backward with a cry.
Harry bit his lip to stop anymore noises, and rubbed a hand over his face to try to wipe away the tears. When he looked up again the strange man was crouched nearby, but not too close, with a hand out and a nervous look on his face.
"Are you alright?" Newt looked around the park for a moment, and then pulled a little stick out of his pocket., "Wait, don't worry, let me..."
He muttered something Harry couldn't hear, and then a bright orb of light was dancing over the top of the stick.
The light made the man's face much clearer, and Harry saw as his expression turned from confused to worried.
"Ouch," he said, looking at the bruises on Harry's face, and then winced as he saw the way Harry was cradling his arm to his chest, his other hand wrapped around his ankle.
"A-are you sure you're not an alien?" Harry spoke quietly, trying to move back, but keeping an eye on the glowing stick.
"No, not an alien," the man seemed to fight with himself for a bit, but then a small smile flickered across his face, "I'm a wizard."
"There is no such thing as magic, my aunt and uncle said so" Harry replied, his voice monotone, and for some strange reason the man started looking nervous.
"Well, there is magic, see?" the man moved his wand a bit, " and your aunt and uncle probably don't know everything right?"
Harry thought for a moment, and then nodded.
"But that isn't important right now, " Newt said, "You're hurt, can-can I check to see how bad it is? I have a first aid kit so I can help." The man gave him another small smile.
Harry bit his lip and looked around, before giving the barest hint of a nod.
"I'm just going to cast a spell, you won't even feel it, and it will tell me where you are hurt."
The man flicked his stick, and Harry flinched out of instinct, but just like the man said nothing seemed to happen.
Except then the man gave a sharp gasp and looked him over.
"Well..." the man trailed off, looking around the park, "I....I need to get my kit, just, just don't ,leave yet, please? Here!" Newt carefully took off his coat and draped it over Harry.
"I'll be right back!" then Newt opened up his suitcase, and climbed into it.
Harry stared in shock as the man disappeared into the suitcase, and then saw something green from the corner of his eye.
A little green twig was staring at him, and it slowly waved.
~~.~~
Newt took a deep breath, and tried to stop his hands from shaking.
Multiple badly healed cracked bones, bruises everywhere, malnourished, a sprained ankle that had never had time to heal, and the clinging taint of dark magic from the scar on his forehead.
And the slowly circling darkness that was trying to wind its way into his core. A fledgling obscurus, not yet realized, but the possibility was there.
"There is no such thing as magic," Newt could see the blankness in the child's eyes as he said that, repeating whatever it was that his aunt and uncle had been feeding to him.
Newt gathered his first aid kit, making sure to grab an extra bottle of Dittany, and nodded to himself.
He popped his head out of the trunk, and saw that the kid was still there, huddled under his coat, swaying a little as it looked like he was trying to stay awake, but failing. He had Pickett cradled in his hands, and was staring at the bowtruckle in awe.
"Ah, Pickett," Newt spoke quietly and smiled when the kids head sprung up to look at him, shaking some of the sleep away.
"Pickett?" the boy carefully looked over the creature, who was swinging from his fingers.
"Yes, he is a Bowtruckle, awfully clingy,likes to stay on my coat," Newt smiled softly, then sat down.
"Look, it may...take a while for some of those injuries to heal, do you have a place you can go that you can rest for a while?" Newt looked the boy over and watched as he bit his lip so hard it started to bleed.
"...no," Harry replied. He would never be able to rest at Number 4, and he would probably get in even more trouble for talking with a weird stranger.
Newt nodded, "Well, then, I,um, will you get in trouble if you don't go back?"
Harry nodded quickly, but then thought for a moment, "I'm probably already in trouble," he whispered.
"Do you want to come in?" Newt pointed down at the trunk, and then continued quickly, "There is a lot of room in here, and I am not trying to hurt you or anything, I can swear on my magic if you want, umm, if you swear on your magic then you can't go against the swear or else you would lose your magic, it is a big deal, very binding, no lying."
Half way through his babbling, he saw the boy give him a little smile, and then he seemed to think for a bit.
"Okay, I...you promise?" the last bit was barely whispered.
"I swear," Newt said, looking the child straight in the eyes, "Here, let me help you, you shouldn't go down with that ankle like that.”
Newt carefully spelled a brace around the ankle to keep it from bending, and helped the mildly awed child down the ladder.
Newt watched with a small smile as the kid's eyes went huge, and his gaze darted around from object to object.
"Welcome," Newt smiled, and carefully helped him over to a seat, gathering the medical supplies, "I'm going to start with your ankle okay? I want you to tell me if anything hurts, even if it is just a little, okay..."
Newt blinked, and then a sheepish noise escaped his mouth, "I'm sorry, I didn't even ask, what is your name?"
"Harry Potter, " the kid responded quietly.
"It is nice to meet you, Harry Potter," Newt smiled and put out his hand for a shake. Pickett latched on, startling a small laugh out of Harry, and Newt smiled as Pickett climbed back up to his shoulder, chittering all the while.
~~.~~
Newt worked carefully, telling Harry what he was doing, and trying to make sure that the child wasn't hurt. He rubbed on bruise balm, and made sure to set the ankle with better than just a preliminary spell.
He thought about using skelegrow, but that might scare Harry too much, so he held off.
"Well, that is what I can do for now," Newt nodded to himself, and began to pack up his supplies. Harry was nodding off in the seat, curled up into a small ball.
"Harry?" Newt waited until the boy looked up at him, "Can you stay awake until I get some food? You need to eat a little, potions go down better on a non-empty stomach."
Harry gave one small nod, and then quietly asked, "Potions?"
Newt grinned even as he began to set up something to eat. Soup was good, it was easy to make and hard to go wrong.
"Yes, uh, potions, it is what we witches and wizards use to heal, and um, other things...we make them with magic and ingredients. That one on the table right there is called Essence of Dittany and it is made with Copper, Shrake Spine, and Dittany to do fast and complete healing of most injuries."
Newt looked back over at Harry's direction, "Potions are dangerous though, especially if you try to make one without knowing how to do it properly, so please be careful, and don't touch any of them unless I tell you, ok?"
Harry nodded, arms crossed over his chest tightly.
With a wave of his wand, Newt finished up the soup, and placed a bowl in front of Harry. He used another charm to warm some bread, and cut it into slices.
"Here we go," Newt gave Harry another little smile as the boy carefully looked up from the food to him, and then began to slowly pick at it.
Newt began to go through his papers, breathing slowly as he made a list in his head.
-It was 1988.
-He must have time traveled some how, as the last thing he remembered was being at a crime scene with Tina.
-Was he still alive in this time period? He had to be careful.
-Harry Potter was an abused child, and was headed towards becoming an obscurus, probably egged on by whatever dark magic was in his scar.
-Could he go back?
Newt was brought out of his thoughts when Harry made a small noise, and when he looked back he saw why.
"Oh, don't let him take anything, pilfering bugg-I mean pest!" Newt went to grab the Niffler as it scuttled over next to Harry.
Harry's eyes widened as he watched Newt grab the Niffler by the back of the neck and lift him up, the Niffler's tiny legs swinging wildly.
"What is that one?" Harry asked, putting his half eaten bowl of soup to the side.
"A Niffler, not dangerous except if you have a lot of shiny items on you. Thieving scamp loves anything shiny, always trying to get out of the briefcase and cause chaos to the muggles-erm, non magical people. I've gotten into trouble many times because of him. Wizards aren't allowed to let non magical people know about us, you see," Newt carefully grabbed the Niffler around the middle, but the thing wiggled free and dropped to the ground, evidently more interested in sniffing around the makeshift home then trying to cause a ruckus at the moment.
When Harry didn't respond, Newt looked up to see his pale face had blanched even further, "You...you get into trouble for telling people, am I going to get you in trouble?"
Harry's eyes began to fill with water, and Newt immediately sprung up. "No, no,no,no, see only non magical people, and you are magical, a wizard, I could tell it right away from that scan I did. "
Harry's eyes stopped watering, and he looked at Newt in shock, "Magic...but, I can't have magic."
"You can, I mean, well you do. Has stuff happened that was strange, that didn't seem to be possible?" Newt sat down on a stool across from where Harry was looking at him with wide eyes, "especially if you were scared, or in trouble?"
Harry slowly lowered his face, and gave a short nod, "I...I turned my teacher's hair blue once, when she was being mean...and I grew my hair back when Aunt Pet-my aunt cut it off..."
Newt nodded, storing the information away, and then sat down across from Harry.
"I do have an important question for you, Harry," Newt spoke quietly, "These things have happened in the past, right?"
Harry nodded.
"Have they happened recently, or have these....unexplainable instances seemed....different?"
Harry was silent in contemplation for a time, before he quietly spoke up, "I...I went from the street to the top of the roof to get away from Dud...my cousin, and I don't know how I did it but...." Harry trailed off and subconsciously a hand rubbed at the scar on his forehead.
"But?" Newt gently prodded.
"But it was so cold," Harry finally said in a small voice, "I, it is usually warm, and safe, but it was so cold," Harry looked up at him quickly, "Why, do you know why? Is something wrong with me?"
Newt moved forward, and carefully and slowly put his hands around Harry's, "You magic is catching sick, like a cold, and like a cold, it is dangerous if left untreated, but I think we have caught it in time to fix it but..."
Newt thought for a few moments, and smiled as he watched Harry slowly curl his fingers around his own, "But the problem with the disease is that it is caused by someone suppressing their magic, someone being in a place that they get hurt for using their magic. So, the only way to cure it, is to use your magic and get used to it. Probably."
Harry sat quietly, his legs kicking out underneath him, and Newt thought.
To have landed just in front of a fledgling obscurus, right when he might need the help. Right when no one else was looking after him, and when he was one of the few people who could actually help him. Add to the fact that he was a Potter, one of those Potters, who had no idea that magic existed. Something wasn't right.
Newt fidgeted, and blinked when the grasp on his hand loosened, he looked up to see that Harry had fallen asleep. Newt picked him up and laid him down in the cot, covering him with a blanket.
He could always worry about it tomorrow; he had to check on his beasts.