Hogwarts: Proficiency Panel Chapter 467 468: God and the Tale of the Wizard

"They're waiting for you, Newt," the woman's voice said.

Newt stood up, face-to-face with Leta Lestrange. She was beautiful, a smile

playing on her lips. Newt quickly shoved his button and Pickett into his

pockets. He was extraordinarily young in this mont, his face lit with a raw,

bashful smile. Old Newt stared at them, lost in a trance, his eyes reflecting a

long-forgotten brilliance. Perched on his shoulder, the black cat watched the

pair without blinking.

"Leta... why are you here?" the young Newt asked.

"Theseus thought it would be good for to join the Ministry of Magic family,"

Leta replied.

"Did he really say 'the Ministry of Magic family'?" Newt asked, feigning

nonchalance.

Leta let out a soft laugh. Then, with a silent understanding, they turned and

walked down the corridor. The atmosphere grew tense; it was clear a long and

complicated history lay between them.

"You never ca to dinner. Theseus was quite disappointed. We invited you, but

you never showed up," Leta said.

"I... I've been busy," Newt replied.

"He's your brother, Newt. He wants to spend more ti with you. And so do I,"

Leta said.

Newt noticed Pickett crawling onto his lapel, nudging open the breast pocket of

his coat. "You hop inside, Pick," Newt whispered to the Bowtruckle. Pickett

gratefully dived in.

"Why do all the strange creatures love you so much?" Leta smiled.

"Creatures aren't strange—" Newt said earnestly.

"—it's just that people have narrow minds," Newt and Leta said almost in unison.

They both broke into smiles.

"Do you rember how long you were kept in detention last ti you said that to

Prendergast?" "Co to think of it, I believe it was a month." "I planted

dungbombs under his desk just so I could co keep you company, rember?"

As they spoke, the stern, ominous doors leading to the conference hall ca into

view.

"I don't rember that," Newt said. These were his final words in the mory.

"She was my best friend. Perhaps I once..." Old Newt had completely lost control

of his emotions; he looked like a child, helpless and filled with sorrow.

"You once loved her," the black cat finished the sentence he couldn't bring

himself to speak.

"Perhaps..." Old Newt murmured, his expression full of nostalgia.

"Her mother died in childbirth, and her father didn't love her; her childhood

was anything but easy. I've seen her Boggart... it was a baby constantly sinking

in water. I later learned that her brother died accidentally because of her,

leaving her unable to escape a lifeti of guilt and self-loathing. She believed

in her heart that she had killed her brother, that she was an evil monster. But

despite all that, she remained a polite and considerate person. Well, because

neither of us was suited for school life, we—"

The black cat knew: that was how they had forged their profound friendship. A

friendship that led the Hufflepuff senior to willingly take the bla for Leta,

nearly getting expelled, and led Leta to her final, resolute sacrifice.

...The scene in the mory shifted once more.

It was a graveyard-like place where fifty Aurors stood outside the gates. Their

faces were etched with tension, even terror; several showed a clear, desperate

hunger for battle and revenge. Inside the cetery, a white-haired wizard was

delivering a stirring speech, his voice possessing a peculiar magic that made

listeners helpless to resist agreeing.

"It is ti to show you the future I have foreseen. If we do not rise up to

resist, to reclaim our rightful place, this is the consequence." He was just

about to continue when the mory twisted. The black cat turned to look at Newt;

it seed the Hufflepuff senior didn't want him to witness what followed.

A few seconds later, the scene shattered, and the battle began. The white-haired

wizard directed the flas like a conductor leading an orchestra, the Elder Wand

serving as his baton. Tongues of fire struck down the Aurors who attempted to

Apparate or flee. Six or seven Aurors ran headlong, panic-stricken, straight

through the fire toward him.

The result, naturally, was death.

"Mr. Scamander, do you think Dumbledore will mourn for you?" the white-haired

wizard asked, addressing Newt and Theseus. He unleashed a massive torrent of

black fla; Theseus and Newt fought desperately to defend themselves. Just as

they were about to succumb, Leta appeared.

"Grindelwald! Stop!" she cried.

"I believe I know this person," Grindelwald paused. He walked through the flas

toward Leta. Theseus and Newt fought to reach her, desperate to be by her side,

but they were powerless.

"Leta Lestrange... shunned by all wizards, unloved, abused... yet brave. So very

brave. It is ti to go ho." He extended a hand to Leta.

Leta suddenly looked toward Theseus and Newt. "I love you."

After that, colors blurred in a chaotic dance. The black cat only knew that Leta

had released a spell causing skulls to explode, distracting Grindelwald, which

allowed Newt and Theseus to Apparate away.

"I hate Paris," the black cat heard Grindelwald say.

"Is that enough..." The black cat heard Old Newt's voice grow hoarse. He looked

at the cat with a gaze that was almost a prayer.

"I am sorry, Mr. Scamander." The black cat lowered its eyes.

They stood once more upon the white, barren ground.

"Bastet, this is war," Newt murmured. "Destroying everything, tearing everything

apart... what is the benefit of fighting the most terrifying wizard in the

world? It is to save innocent lives. To ensure fewer broken families, fewer

tears and sorrows—this is sothing that must be done, no matter the cost."

He fell silent, watching the black cat spin the black stone on its neck three

tis, as if it were a child's toy.

"Follow , Mr. Scamander." The black cat leaped from Newt's shoulder.

The Resurrection Stone was summoning Leta, but she seed to be drifting from

too far away, or perhaps the connection between Sean and her was hindered by the

barrier of Newt's mory, so she didn't appear imdiately. The black cat

thought that if it summoned Lady Helena, she would have arrived in an instant.

And so, the black cat could only lead Newt through the mist-filled Lands

Between, sensing that the presence he sought was drawing closer.

"Am I going to see her?" Newt, sensing the shift, grew restless.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" the black cat asked, bewildered.

"Dear Bastet... you don't understand. She... she makes my heart feel as though

it's bursting into fireworks. Stuttering, incoherent—all these are the costs of

being near her." Newt spoke like an old man telling a story. The only difference

between him and other wizards was that he believed he was confiding in a deity.

And perhaps, if a god truly understood a wizard's story, it could relieve the

wizard of his pain.

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