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Rolf Theseus Artemis Fido Scamander


The baby looked exactly like his father.

And therefore exactly like his grandfather.

Tina sat holding him, bundled up in layers of soft blankets, her eyes wide and misty as she stared and stared at the tiny little baby.

Some distance away, Newt stood with Dougal on one side, their hands clasped as though Dougal was a small child, and a small herd of Moon Calves on the other, all at attention as he was holding the bucket of pellets in his free hand. Newt stared nervously as one of the moon calves impatiently nosed at the bucket.

Tina was watching him out of the corner of her eye.

“Mr. Scamander,” she called, “If you want to see this baby, you ought to just come over.”

He hesitated.

Tina raised her eyebrow. “He isn’t going to bite.”

Newt rocked on the ball of his feet for a moment and Dougal looked up at him, then went invisible, and Newt’s hand seemed to flop about on it’s own beside him as invisible Dougal gave a tug to his arm, pulling him in the direction of Tina and the baby. Newt put down the bucket and the moon calves descended upon it with a series of little excited hops, knocking it over and sending pellets across the floor of the observatory within seconds.

Hush little baby, don’t say a word,” Tina was singing softly as she rocked, “Grammys gonna buy you a mocking bird...”

Newt inched closer.

She glanced up, “But of course grampys already got a fwooper, so you may not care for the mockingbird much.” She smiled at Newt. “Come over here and say hullo, grampy.”

“He - he can’t understand you,” Newt said. “Even - even if I s-said hullo he wouldn’t… wouldn’t understand.”

“Sure he can,” Tina replied.

“He - he has no vo-vocabulary,” Newt replied.

Tina smirked a little at him, then turned back to the baby. “Your grampy’s shy.”

Newt bit his lip. He wasn’t very far away now. He could see the tiny face peeking out ‘round the blankets. He swallowed nervously. “Oh dear.” he murmured.

“What is it, Newt?” Tina asked.

“He… he looks like… like me.” He paused. “He… he has my - my mouth.”

Tina smirked again. “He certainly does.”

“P-poor boy.”

“That’s my husband you’re insulting, Mr. Scamander. And my grandson.” Tina beckoned him closer, “Will you please just come all the way over?” Newt took the last few steps so he was standing directly beside the chair Tina sat in and she got up. “Sit down.”

He sat.

Tina leaned forward and slid the tiny bundle into Newt’s arms and although he stiffened and cringed as he took on the baby’s weight, his arms instinctively cradled it, as he often did to his creatures, and he felt Dougal climb onto his knees and press invisible hands against the bundle, too. Dougal faded into view then, becoming halfway transparent, and staring down at the baby in Newt’s arms.

Tina sat on the arm of the chair and put her palm on Newt’s shoulder.

“J- Jennifer really d-doesn’t want him?” Newt whispered.

“No, she doesn’t,” Tina said.

Newt stared at him. He was pink and tiny and his little fingers poked ‘round the edge of the blanket.

“What do you think, Mr. Scamander?” Tina asked quietly.

“He’s alright,” he said simply. But even as he said it, his eyes were saying otherwise. He was staring at the baby’s face without looking away, his eyes wide… but differently than before, they were softening… and his jaw was trembling. Tina knew that look, knew it all too well. He was discovering a new fantastic beast.

Tina smiled. “And what shall we call him?”

“I don’t - don’t know,” Newt stammered.

“Newt Jr. perhaps?” joked Tina.

“Merlin’s beard. No.” Newt shook his head vehemently.

Tina laughed. Then, “What do you think of Rolf?”

“Rolf,” Newt tried it on for size. His lips quirked at the corners. “Rolf Theseus Artemis Fido Scamander.” He paused, “Theseus for - for my brother.”

“Can we lose the Artemis Fido?” Tina requested.

“Oh that we could. Family n-names, unfortunately,” Newt stammered.

Tina leaned over. “Rolf Theseus Artemis Fido Scamander,” she said staring at the tiny, pink squashy face staring up at her from the folds of blanket. Dougal looked up at her, too, fingers still wrapped around the edge of Newt’s arm. The moon calves were clustering over, having finished their pellets, and a fwooper landed on a perch and craned its neck and the erumpent grunted as she came to the doorway of her habitat and blew off a bit of steam. The niffler scrambled up Tina’s leg to her arms and leaned over, claws grabbing hold of a fistful of Newt’s hair to steady herself with. It wasn’t shiny, this thing they were all looking at, but she supposed it was still sorta interesting….

The baby’s eyes opened.

“Oh.” Newt whispered. “Hullo.”

The baby blinked up at him.

“I - I’m Mr. Scamander,” he said, tilting his head, “But you y - you can call me g-grampy.”

Dougal reached out a finger and touched the baby’s cheek. The baby looked at Dougal and there was a beat, but then he reached out a hand back and caught Dougal’s finger and held on and Dougal went instantly invisible, shy, and Newt felt Dougal jump off his lap and run away.

“H-honestly,” Newt muttered, judging, “Sc-scared of a baby!”

“Um. Newt, honey…?” Tina murmured.

Newt looked up at her, flushing, “Well he’s - he’s a demiguise and that’s … that’s quite a lot different.” He turned back to Rolf. “Th-that’s quite - quite a lot different, isn’t it, Rolfie? It is. Qu-quite a lot different.”




Ned Veigler burst into the Lupin house in the midday, covered with soot from the floo. He ran into the kitchen and grabbed Dora and started dancing about, shouting, “Newt’s had a grandson! He’s had a grandson! He’s perfect, perfect, perfect! Oh so much perfect!” and he was flapping a letter in one hand and a photograph in the other and waving it before Mrs. Potter before diving out of the room, crying out, “REEEEEEEEMUS! REEEEEEEMUS!”

Remus ducked out of his bedroom door, followed by Sirius, and even James came down the hallway, having heard Ned’s shouting from his room, and Charlus came over from the couch as Ned Veigler shouted, “Newt’s had a grandson!!” again and handed over the photo that had come with the letter and Sirius looked over Remus’s shoulder as Remus held up the photo. It was of Newt, holding the little bundle and smiling in the least awkward manner that Remus had ever seen Newt smile.

“Oh he’s brilliant!” he breathed.

Sirius stared at the photo and thought it looked like a hot pink lima bean that Newt was holding and didn’t understand what was so bloody impressive about it.

“What have they named the little lad?” asked Charlus, taking up the photo and grinning as the baby yawned widely and Newt’s overlarge teeth rested on his lower lip.

“Rolf Theseus Artemis Fido Scamander,” recited Ned Veigler looking down at the letter.

“That’s a lot of names,” said James.

Sirius turned around and smirked, “Says James Charlus Fleamont Potter.” He punched James playfully on the arm. “AmIright?”

Charlus looked up, “Are we making fun of my names, then?”

Sirius turned back, face perfectly straight despite having been grinning in amusement at James, and said, his voice level, “Never, sir.”

But there was a smirk of amusement on Charlus’s face.

Dora took the photo next, “Oh what a dear. He looks exactly like Newt, doesn’t he?” She grinned, then, “Look at that little patchy hair! Ohhh.” Her eyes were all damp. “I remember… little James… when he was that size…”

Sirius snickered. “Did he look like a bean with hair, too, then?”

James flushed, “Of course I did, all infants do.”

Sirius grinned, “I’ll bet you looked even beanier than the usual ones.”

“Probably less beanier than you!”

Sirius’s eyes twinkled. Was James bantering with him? Was this how it was gonna be? They were going to banter out the argument? So be it. Sirius was good at banter. “You were the beaniest bean of all the beans, Potter!”

James’s cheeks grew even redder. Sirius turned and bound up the steps that separated him from James and he flung his arm about James’s shoulders. “SPEAKING OF BEING A BEAN…. We need to get you ready for the ball, Cinderella!” and he started sing-songing, “Going to see a Lily Flower, Lily Flower, Lily Flower… going to see a Lily Flower and have an ice creeeeam daaate!” Sirius dragged James up the stairs. “I SHALL MAKE YOU LOOK FABULOUS!!!!!! She shall wither at the good looks that are you!”

Remus looked over his shoulder as James was hauled away. He looked back to Mr. and Mrs. Potter and Ned and the photo of the new baby Scamander and he smiled down at the photograph and smiled down at the photograph once again.




Upstairs, in the bedroom, Sirius had flung open James’s trunk and was going through it, tossing clothes aside, searching for just the right outfit and Severus stood a few steps behind, watching Sirius search, unsure what he should be doing. He felt his stomach twisting, conflicted between being excited to see Lily Evans and dreading what she wanted to say to him. Well not to him but to James Potter... who he was. It was confusing, even in Severus’s mind.

Sirius looked about. “You can go and take your shower while I do this bit! I’ll have an outfit all selected for you when you return.” He beamed.

Severus paused. He hadn’t been planning to take a shower. His hair wasn’t greasy or anything. Why would he take one?

Sirius said, “And wear that cologne stuff or bring it along so you don’t kill my Moony with your exhust fumes, but I think we’ve established she likes that quite a lot and you gotta give the people what they want, ‘ey Potter?” he beamed.

Severus nodded, “Yes.”

Several minutes later, once Severus had gone, showered, dried himself off and dressed in the clothes Sirius had picked out for him, he stood before the mirror in James Potter’s bedroom, looking himself over as Sirius grinned and reached ‘round to dust off the front of him. “Are you nervuos about what she’s got to say?” he asked.

“Yes,” Severus answered honestly. “Very.”

Sirius smiled. “Maybe less afraid, darling.”

Severus stared at Sirius for a moment in the reflection. Darling? He called James DARLING? Seriously?

Sirius smirked and turned, grabbing James’s wand from the nightstand. “Here. Don’t forget your wand.” He tucked it into James’s robes. “Always forgetting your wand, Potter… one of these days you’re gonna get caught without it and then what?” He laughed and patted the robes in place. “I ought to spellotape it right to your bleedin’ hand.”