As the days passed one by one, the Scottish Highlands grew increasingly cold.
Every morning, students had to brave the biting drafts, huddling in small groups as they scurried through the castle.
It must be said that the new temporary school rules set by Dumbledore were proving quite effective—there hadn’t been a single case of a student being petrified for an entire week.
anwhile, Professor Snape had begun discreetly investigating the Slytherin students, trying to determine who might have blood ties to the Gaunt family.
Professor Dumbledore himself had personally visited the orphanage where Voldemort had spent his childhood, intent on thoroughly uncovering his origins.
Harry found this utterly absurd. Seriously, he thought, you’ve been headmaster for all these years, and you’ve never bothered to look into the students’ backgrounds?
Ordinary students were one thing, but this was Voldemort—a naturally wicked little monster!
Harry reckoned that if he were headmaster, he’d have turned Voldemort’s history upside down long ago—down to the very flavor of cake he’d eaten on his third birthday.
Oh, sorry, Tom, I forgot your mum didn’t love you. Even if she were alive, she wouldn’t have thrown you a birthday party, Harry thought with a wicked smirk.
Given that a Basilisk still lurked within the school, Harry had soone purchase a pair of two-way mirrors for him. He scribbled a letter to Poppy, handed it to an owl in the Owlery, and instructed it to deliver the ssage to Mr. Flal.
The gist of the letter was simple: the school remained dangerous, and he suggested Poppy stay with Mr. Flal a bit longer.
Mr. Flal’s ho was a lively place. On November 9th, Newt Scamander and his wife, Porpentina Scamander, arrived at Flal’s cottage.
Truth be told, Newt had set off for France much earlier, but due to certain historical complications, crossing borders had been a challenge for him.
It wasn’t until today, after a thorough review, that he’d finally entered France legally.
The mont he arrived, he Apparated with his wife straight to the doorstep of Flal’s cottage.
The Scamanders were among the few wizards who knew of Flal’s cottage, so the Fidelius Charm didn’t shield it from them.
“Mr. Flal,” Newt said, knocking on the door.
Monts later, Deek the house-elf opened it, welcoming the Scamanders inside.
Pushing the door open, they were greeted by the sight of Mr. Flal, utterly engrossed in staring at a glowing box. His hand fidgeted with sothing resembling a plastic mouse, clicking it now and then.
A little farther back, a unicorn stood sleeping on the sofa.
“Mr. Flal?” Newt ventured a tentative greeting.
But Flal didn’t respond, still fixated on the glowing box.
Newt stepped forward and waved a hand in front of Flal’s face.
Only then did Flal snap out of it, letting out a delayed, “Oh!”
“It’s Newt! When did you get here?” he chuckled warmly.
Newt gave an awkward smile. “Just walked in. What are you doing? I recall Albus ntioning this sumr that you and Mrs. Flal were planning to embrace death together. I even received a bunch of things you sent …”
“Oh, that,” Flal said, grinning at Newt. “I changed my mind. I’ve decided living is actually full of fun—look at this, this…”
Like a child showing off a new toy to a friend, Flal began introducing the object before him.
“This—it’s a new Muggle invention called a computer,” Flal said gleefully. “This little thing has given a reason to keep living. Jump forward just a hundred-odd years, and the Muggles have created sothing this fascinating. Now look at the wizarding world, huh?”
“The wizarding world is fine, Mr. Flal,” Newt replied.
“No, it’s not,” Flal said earnestly. “Wizards have grown stagnant, completely lost their drive to innovate—oh, never mind that. What brings you here?”
Only then did Newt recall his purpose. His face flushed slightly as he spoke.
“I heard from Mr. Potter at Hogwarts about a unicorn lady—her na’s Poppy, right?”
“Yes,” Flal said. “I forgot how much you love magical creatures—don’t you? Like that suitcase of yours, always stuffed with a few… er, you didn’t bring them this ti, did you?”
“No,” Newt replied with firm conviction.
Flal relaxed, smiling at Newt. “You’ve got to understand an old man’s struggles. My alchemy lab can’t handle another Niffler rampage—so you’re here about Poppy, yes?”
“Yes,” Newt nodded. “Mr. Potter ntioned this unicorn nad Poppy seems to have a dulled sense of taste?”
Flal glanced at the still-sleeping Poppy. “That’s right, though her case is rather unique. I’d suggest you ask her permission before studying her.”
“Of course, Mr. Flal, of course,” Newt said, settling onto a nearby sofa with his wife, Tina.
“She’s so beautiful, isn’t she? So elegant,” Tina murmured, gazing at Poppy in awe.
No sooner had she spoken than a snot bubble puffed up from Poppy’s nose, bursting with a pop under Tina’s stunned stare.
“Hrrrm… not asleep,” Poppy mumbled.
She opened her eyes, blinking groggily at the two new faces before her.
“Hello,” she yawned, turning to Newt and Tina, who were watching her intently.
Two humans and one unicorn locked eyes—six in total—each glancing at the others, unsure who should speak first.
Finally, Newt broke the silence.
“Hello, I’m Newt,” he said, extending a hand. “Newt Scamander. It’s an honor to et you, Miss Poppy.”
Realizing too late that she was a unicorn, not a person, he flushed, lowering his hand. “Sorry, Miss Poppy, I forgot—”
“It’s fine,” Poppy said, lifting a forehoof. “Hello, Mr. Scamander, Mrs. Scamander.”
As she spoke, a flicker of confusion crossed her face.
Scamander?
Why did that na feel so familiar?
Newt and Tina’s eyes sparkled. After shaking Poppy’s hoof, Newt launched into a barrage of questions.
Poppy blinked, overwheld by the onslaught. Her eyes began to swirl like mosquito coils, her expression growing dazed and not particularly sharp.
Noticing Poppy’s bewildernt, Tina tugged at Newt’s sleeve.
“Sorry,” Newt said sheepishly. “I’ve just… I’ve never been this close to a unicorn before. Apologies, Miss Poppy.”
“It’s alright,” Poppy replied with a gentle smile. For so reason, she felt an odd fondness for this old man.
It was a strange kind of warmth, as if there were so connection between them…
Newt humd, hesitating before speaking again. “Miss Poppy, your na—um, do you know a Miss Poppy Sweeting?”
At Newt’s question, Flal swiveled his chair around, his expression one of gleeful curiosity.
Wow, who’d have thought Newt would know Miss Sweeting too?
Then again, it wasn’t surprising—Newt was born in 1897, after all.
“Poppy Sweeting?”
At the sound of the na, Poppy straightened up.
“How do you know her?” she asked, a hint of wariness in her eyes.
She glanced at Flal, her mind swirling with questions.
Why does this Scamander fellow know my na?
“I—my mother, she had a sister,” Newt said, his face reddening. “Her na was Linda Scamander—oh, right, before she married, she was Linda Sweeting…”
Poppy froze.
She hadn’t expected that, after all these years, a living relative still walked the earth.
And then it clicked—why Scamander felt so familiar…
Back in 1887, her older sister had married a man nad Scamander. Poppy had still been at Hogwarts then, but she’d attended their wedding.
“You… you’re my sister’s son?” Poppy gasped.
“Sister?!”
Newt shot to his feet, staring at Poppy in shock.
Tina, too, wore a look of utter disbelief.
She could scarcely imagine that this unicorn before them was… was her husband’s mother’s sister? Their aunt?
“You… you an—” Newt stamred, pointing a trembling finger at Poppy. “You… you’re Poppy Sweeting? My aunt?”
It was a reasonable reaction—anyone would balk at a unicorn declaring, “I’m your auntie.” The first instinct was disbelief.
Poppy nodded, then let out a soft “Oh!” A shimr of light enveloped her, and in her place appeared the ghost of a beautiful young girl in Hufflepuff robes.
“There, this should convince you,” Poppy said, extending a hand. “ow—let’s reintroduce ourselves, nephew. I’m your aunt, Poppy Sweeting.”
Newt reached out chanically, only to grasp at air.
“What happened to you?” he asked.
“I beca a ghost,” Poppy said simply. “Sothing went wrong while practicing magic with Magizoology, and I ended up like this.”
She clasped her hands behind her back, leaning forward to peer up at Newt’s downturned face with a smile. “You really don’t take after your mum, Newt. Linda was so outgoing—always hugging people. You didn’t inherit that.”
Newt chuckled awkwardly. “My brother, Theseus, got Mum’s extroversion—he’s a hug monster. But I inherited her love for magical creatures.”
“Oh yes, Linda adored Hippogriffs,” Poppy said with a laugh, pausing to recall. “Ah, Theseus—I rember him. If I’ve got it right, he was born when I was in my third year. I even held him once.”
“Did you?” Newt did a quick ntal calculation. “You were in third year in 1889?”
“Yep,” Poppy said, twirling in place. “This is how I looked in my seventh year. Pretty youthful, huh?”
Newt felt a lump in his throat.
“Have you… been like this all these years? A ghost?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“Sotis a unicorn too,” Poppy said, settling back onto the sofa. “Compared to being a ghost, I prefer the carefree life of a unicorn.”
Newt turned to Flal.
“Mr. Flal, please allow to discuss Aunt Poppy with Theseus,” he said. “I think he deserves to know about sothing this big.”
Flal waved a frail hand dismissively, shuffling back to his computer.
His aning was clear: Do whatever you want, just don’t interrupt my computer ti!
Newt glanced at Tina, pulled a small card from his pocket, and stepped out of Flal’s alchemy lab.
Monts later, he returned with a tall, lanky, handso old man in tow.
It was his brother, Theseus Scamander.
Theseus clearly had no idea what was happening. “What’s this all about, calling here so urgently?” he asked, bewildered.
“You’ll see,” Newt said, nudging Theseus into the room.
Flal’s alchemy lab was small to begin with, and with a few extra people, it quickly felt cramped.
Theseus glanced around, taking it all in. It was his first ti visiting Flal’s ho.
He’d heard of the legendary alchemist, of course—though the last ti he’d seen Flal was decades ago at Père Lachaise Cetery in Paris.
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