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The Creek Bed


NEWT'S STORY CONTINUES...


Tina and Newt crept along through the trees - Tina stayed close enough to him that she was pressed against his back, her free hand hooked over his shoulders, and Newt laid one hand over hers, both of them holding their wands lit, and aloft, their breaths and steps the only sounds.

The sunlight almost did not matter among the trees, it was so dark in the thick of it, and Newt kept glancing at his watch to be sure they hadn’t wandered through the trees too long and the full moon had not yet risen. They had precious little time before it would.

Suddenly there was a sound in the trees. Cracking branches… and crying… and Newt stopped short and stood still, Tina’s eyes widening. Her motherly instincts were on full alert for the crying was the sort of crying that sends chills down parent spines - the sort that tells you there is something Truly Wrong. And she gripped his shoulder all the tighter, nervously listening to the sound as it came closer and closer…

Then there was a second sound, further off - a second crashing through the trees, though this one was much, much heavier… and swifter… more sure on it’s feet. Silent other than the crunching of bracken. Newt Scamander whispered, “Hunting,” under his breath.

Tina trembled, then, “The boy?”

“Prey,” whispered Newt.

Tina shook her head in disapproval, then, angered, she stepped away from Newt, cutting through the trees very suddenly, in the direction of the smaller sound, the crying sound. Newt turned quickly, appalled, “Teeny!” he hissed, and he rushed after her, ducking a tall branch and bolting through the thick foliage as quickly as possible. Tina was on a mission now, though, and she had her wand ready, the light off, her demeanor in full Former Auror Mode, ready to kick ass and take names, as she usually said to describe the Mode. Newt hustled along behind.

She broke through the trees ahead of the crying sound, finding herself on a wooded path, and waited, crouched, and suddenly a little boy with piercing blue eyes and dirty blonde hair rounded the corner in the pathway - he couldn’t have been more than five years old - and he was looking behind him with thick tears falling over his face and he ran right into Tina’s waiting arms. He let out a scream that echoed through the trees and Tina clapped her hand over his mouth gently. Newt ran up and grabbed onto Tina’s shoulder and the boy’s and attempted to apparate… but he couldn’t.

“There’s an anti-disapparation charm on the woods,” he hissed in surprise.

Tina clutched the boy to her, even as he struggled to get away, “Shhh, shhh. We’re here to help you. We’re not going to hurt you, shhh,” she whispered quietly, but the boy didn’t believe it and he continued at scrambling to get away.

The louder crashing was getting closer and Newt grabbed Tina’s elbow. “This - this way,” he said, and he pulled her through the thickest part of the trees, away from the path they’d been on. He ran blindly through the trees, keeping his hand on Tina’s elbow to be sure she was still there, trying to guide her so that their steps would be as quiet as possible, but the boy’s thrashing made that quite a lot harder than it needed to be. He spotted a dip in the ground ahead, and a creekbed cut its way through the trees and he pulled Tina down the slope to the bed. The creek had dried up, but the dip turned ‘round a corner where the land had cut more sharply for the bed and there was a place there where the bed bent around a small hill and the outcropping made a sort of wall, and it was there that he pulled Tina into a crouch.

“Silencio... Petrificus totalus,” he hissed at the boy, who froze, and the cries he was making were quiet. Newt lay his finger over his mouth and Tina nodded and they stayed as silent as they possibly could be.

Tina held the boy close, cupping his head gently with her palm, protectively, and stared into Newt’s face, his eyes diverted slightly as though he were looking at her temple instead of back into her eyes.

The crashing came closer and closer and finally it was nearly directly over them and Newt held his breath - as did Tina - and they waited.

Fenrir Greyback slowed. The trail of the boy had gotten a bit funny and he paused, breathing deeply. The smell was different… new… but something he recognized, though he didn’t know where from. He stood on the crest of a small hill and looked around over dried up creek bed, seething to himself. The little kid wasn’t supposed to be good at this. He’d meant for the hunt to last only a few minutes - more of a ceremonial, fun exercise in his power and agility, just to teach the child that he could not run and escape him. That he, Fenrir Greyback, was far more agile and powerful than a child could ever be.

Except now he’d found a hiding place and Fenrir’s teeth gnashed in frustration.

There was, however, something sweet on the air and Greyback breathed it in eagerly, a smirk tweaking up his face, and he licked his teeth. Whatever that sweet smell was… he wanted it… wanted it bad… and his eyes pierced through the trees, almost more interested in the scent than he was in the missing child. After all, he had plenty of those little morsels waiting for him back at Medusa’s cabin in the wood.

He breathed deep… sniffing… searching… allowing his nose to guide him in the direction of it and his foot hit the edge of the hill, where it jutted down suddenly into the creek bed, his boot loosening the dirt so it showered down over Newt, Tina, and the child, who crouched below, Newt clutching onto both Tina and the child in a protective huddle, his jacket spread out by his hands so that they were covered, the dirt hitting the curve of his back, making him wince. Their foreheads touched and Tina’s eyes flashed to Newt’s - fear and love and gratitude and admiration all flickered together in them… and he stared back into hers - a rarity - and she could see his fear and love, too, his determination, the promise he’d do anything to keep her and the child safe.

Greyback’s eyes swept the far bank… started to lower into the creek bed… Suddenly something made a sound behind him and he turned, his boot releasing even more dirt down over them as he moved back from the edge.

“Fights are breakin’ out, Greyback, over the children,” came a voice. “All the bleedin’ wolves want one but there’s only thirty-seven left and there’s more wolves’n that…”

Greyback growled, “Can’t you see I’m busy, Ed?”

“Greyback, they ain’t goin’ ter settle down ‘til yer back, yer the alpha.”

Fenrir Greyback spat on the grass and he cast one last cursory glance around, then grumbled and followed Ed through the trees. The child could hide - for now - but his wolf senses were much, much more keen than his human ones… and he’d find him. Not long now ‘til the moon would rise up, and when it was, he’d be back. And he’d give the kid a proper biting when he was.

In the creek bed, Newt listened very carefully until Greyback and Ed had dissolved into the woods before he drew back from Tina and the child, flapping his coat so that the dirt would fall from his back. Tina had tears in her eyes and her breath shook a little as she sat upright, the little boy still petrified from Newt’s spell.

“Finite incantantum,” Newt said, releasing his muscles.

The boy melted into mobilization, too scared now to move, staring up at Tina, who held him gently, and Newt who now was jumping down into the stoney floor of the creek, reaching for a rock and turning it over, peering beneath it to the silt and slime. Newt reached in and stuck his fingers in the slimey dirt, then lifted it up, sniffing it and taking a lick off it.

The boy’s eyes widened.

“Don’t mind him,” whispered Tina, “He’s a bit funny sometimes...”

The boy looked at her.

“Do you like animals?” she asked, thinking a chat about animals might cheer the boy up.

He just stared at her, shivering, clearly terrified.

“Mr. Scamander there, he works with animals, he keeps a sort of zoo in our house. You should see all the incredible animals. You wouldn’t believe. They’re even more incredible than like a lion or a bear or anything you can imagine, Mr. Scamander’s animals are magic.” She looked him over slowly, her eyes checking for signs of injuries.

Newt was still inspecting the silt in the bed of the creek, and he wandered a way up it, turning over another stone, and another… repeating the testing of the silt.

“Magic?” the boy whispered shakily.

“Yes,” Tina nodded, “Magic.”

Newt stood upright suddenly, “This water was drained by man,” he anonunced.

Tina looked over at him.

“It didn’t - didn’t, uh, go naturally dry, and it - it hasn’t been too long since they’ve, uh, dried it out, either. The silt’s still fresh. Within the month. You see, the uh, the land beneath hasn’t time to freeze or go dry yet.” Newt was walking back toward them, “What purpose would they have to drain a - a creek?”

Tina said, “Perhaps they were very thirsty.” She was joking.

Newt thought about it as though it were a serious suggestion, then looked around the stones he stood upon, “I’m - I’m thinking much more, uh, sinister, uh, things.”

Tina looked at the boy in her arms and made a silly face and the boy tentatively smiled just a little bit. She smiled back at him warmly and asked, “What’s your name, little one?”

“Bradley,” he answered. “Bradley Baker.”

“Well Bradley Baker, isn’t that a very nice name!”

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“You’re very, very welcome, Mr. Baker,” she said, smiling. “What’s your favorite colour?”

“Blue,” he answered.

Tina smiled, “Mine, too. Look. See this necklace I have here?” she pulled it out from beneath her blouse, where she was in the habit of tucking it, and showed the boy. It was a sort of locket, a clear glass piece that had cased within it a single blue feather that gleamed blue and purple. “That’s an occamy feather. Mr. Scamander raises occamies. They’re blue. Beautiful blue. That’s my favorite blue.”

The boy looked at her. “What’s an occamy?”

Newt perked up. “The - the occamy is found in the Far - Far East and in - in India… Plumed, two-legged, with uh, uh wings, they - they have a serpentine body, like a - a dragon or a snake, but feathery. They can be up to fifteen feet in - in length, naturally, but they sort of expand to fit the, uh, the space they occupy, since they’re a sort of - a uh, an aquatic sort of - of animal. They fit their habitats. They eat rats and birds, but larger - larger ones will eat a monkey. One tried to eat my demiguise once, not pretty - not pretty at all… Dougal really shouldn’t be playing about with - with occamy infants but he - he saved one once and he’s been fascin-fascinated since…”

“Oh Dougal,” Tina shook her head in amusement at the adventures Dougal had.

“Their eggs are silver and they’re four-X rated on the M.O.M. classification,” Newt finished with a nod.

The boy stared at Newt. “It’s a dragon?” he asked - for of everything Newt had just spouted off (a literal textbook definition, seeing as he had literally written the textbook) that was what Bradley Baker had taken in of it.

“No, no not a dragon it’s a serpentine --”

“Yes, it’s a dragon,” Tina interrupted Newt, not wanting him to get into an argument over the technical definition of dragons with a small child.

Newt twitched with annoyance but he didn’t say anything.

Bradley’s eyes lit up.

“Would you like to see one?” Tina asked.

Bradley nodded.

“I’ll show you one,” Tina promised. “First, we’re going to save the other children, and then --”

Newt looked up, worry in his eyes.

“Mr. Scamander,” Tina said, “You can’t possibly think that I’ve heard there are thirty-seven more children somewhere about to be bitten by a pack of werewolves and I would walk away?”

“Of course not,” muttered Newt.

“Of course not,” Tina agreed. “So we’ll save the thirty-seven children, and bring them back to the briefcase and --”

Newt looked at his watch. “We don’t have long. We - we need to - to find them - before the moon rises.” He tapped his finger to the glass on his watch.

Bradley said quietly, “I know where they are.”

Tina looked at him, “Could you be very, very brave and show us? We’ll keep you safe. And afterwards, we’ll show you all the magical creatures Mr. Scamander has… occamies and moon calves and Dougal the demiguise, and our niffler…”

“Niffler?”

“Oh you’ll like our niffler,” Tina smiled, “She’s sort of like a friendly little platypus. Have you have seen a platypus?”

“Nasty little creatures, platypus,” muttered Newt, “Not a thing like a niffler… Nifflers are fluffy, black and long-snouted, and they - they like burrowing like a - a mole but they - they like shiny things and - they’re - they’re much more gentle and prone to - to affection than the - the platypus… Nifflers aren’t venomous, like the platypus are...”

“Our niffler likes to snuggle,” Tina said, smiling.

“What’s your niffler’s name?” Bradley asked.

“It’s just Niffler,” Newt said. “I tried - tried naming her once, but she was too busy chasing after gold to listen to - to learn her name so she’s just Niffler. Little bugger.”

“She answers to Little Bugger too,” Tina said with a smirk, “He’s called her that enough times…”

Bradley smiled back up at her, his imagination going quite wild at all the sorts of creatures that Tina had mentioned and what they might look like...