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Siberian Taiga
–Damian Hawthorne–
"Fancy seeing you here, Mr.Scamander."
He grinned at the old man standing beside the stiff wizard, looking at him with a lopsided grin, as if he was the butt of a joke he did not fully understand yet. Odd.
He had sensed the man come in his sensory range halfway through his introspection, but he did not act, waiting to see what the famed Newt Scamander would do, especially since he was declared a Persona non grata in most of the ICW countries, with only the Aboriginals from Australia and New Zealand being the ones that refused to give their confirmation.
It was all hush hush, with some whispered rumours about dozens of deaths during a supposed raid on a magical creature harvesting range, something that was propped up by some of the wealthiest people in Europe. It was funny. Wizards were really superstitious as well, only their superstitions centered around Magical Creatures and whatever new flavour of instant health effect some of their organs could have.
Sure, some stuff from Magical Creatures was effective, but never in the way they consumed it. The more pain the Magical Creatures were in and the more unwilling they were for the whole donation thing, the more cursed that object would be. He pitied the fool who would ultimately be the one to consume said cursed organ. Sure, a single magical creature's curse might not be strong, hell, it would most probably be undetectable, but if that curse was amplified manifold? Yeah, it would absolutely generate a magical aura.
Now, most wizards could ignore that, mistaking it for just signs of Dark Magic use and their unease being tolerable, but he was morbidly curious as to what he would do if he ever came in front of someone who was cursed by magical creatures and their resentment to an extreme degree.
All previous evidence suggested quite an extreme response from his end, and these days, that extreme response ranged from destroying him physically to deleting everything around him, so yeah, morbidly curious but not to the extent he would risk it.
Judging by what he could get from his sources, it seemed that somewhere in the past two decades or so, Newt Scamander began acting erratic, irrational as some of this closed ones called it, going to extreme ends to save even a single Magical Creature, willing blowing all his savings if it meant he could save even one more Magical Creature, with no regards for his own future.
He called in every single favour he could, begged when he could, coerced when he could, and overall, became a menace in the hind of the global magical creature processing industry. Sure, most of it was legal, and there were some regulations in some countries that dictated what, where, and whose parts could be harvested, but that was not enough for Newt Scamander.
He recalled reading the redacted transcribed records of a particularly heated ICW session that Newt practically forced him into, rambling for stuff that had the label of a madman plastered in front of him. Some of the regulations included total and utter control over Magical Ranges, with a Magizoologist mandatory in attendance to select who could be harvested or not.
That alone had him laughed out of the ICW, as that was not just absurd, but impossible, as there were simply not enough people in that profession. His response to that was something that only served to increase the ridicule he and everyone around him were subjected to.
"So train them! There are so many people who would love to learn more. Create more of them, subsidize the education! Make sure they are paid well, and I am sure we can succeed!"
That particular interview had been some sort of death knell as Newt lost friends, allies, people who were willing to associate him, left and right, leaving him all alone to deal with his so called irrational urge to help magical creatures at all costs, something that interested him so much, which is why he was going to meet the Man anyway. It was good that he came to him first.
He wondered if Newt was someone like him? Someone who felt the same stuff he did, but on a far more intense level, leading to his current changes? Someone who was much more willing than he was, to throw away everything he had built all his life, for something that most people would never understand.
The questions burned a hole in his mind, as his mind warred with itself, split on pursuing this at all costs, and to avoid it as it was only pushing his mental health into the negative, instead of focusing on all the goals he had listed out and was yet to accomplish.
Even so, he did not let anything of that sort show on his face. With a smirk, he put both his hands behind his head, whistling a jaunty tune as he looked at Sev, the ever broody Sev with the wand in his hand and his eyes moving all around them, as if looking for a trap.
"Sup," He nodded at the man before turning to the far shorter, hunch backed old geezer who looked as if he was about to keel over anytime but felt much different to his senses. It was shocking how much one's magic could tell about them, especially later on in their lives.
Newt looked old, and he was old, but not feeble. Atleast his magic wasn't. The man felt on par with what Filus Flitwick felt to him, and the half goblin half wizard was someone who had won multiple dueling championships, beating opponents who had twice his experience or even twice his magical power, all without dying in the process which was really commendable in an international tournament (The crimes for killing half humans like Filius were basically a slap on the wrist, or just a minor monetary fine for powerful nobles).
So, it would not be wrong to say that Newt Scamander here, was as strong as an international Duelling champion, not something anyone could say judging purely based on looks. Then again, magic was a great equaliser, which is why he knew that, if willing, Sev's ass could be kicked by Newt alone, without even taking into account the existence of Voltrok, a gravity manipulating Dragon.
"Nothing, kid," He turned to Newt, whose gaze had slid from him to the cave behind him, to the enchantments that had been destroyed with a wave of his hand, "Just heard someone come barging in with the subtlety of a bull horn and thought, why not check it out."
He then turned to him, and for a moment, he felt absolutely naked, as if Newt was looking through him instead of at him. A moment later, Newt's eyes focused back on him as the man grinned manically, "Didn't know you had it in you, kid."
What?
"You killed people, didn't you? Kids these days.." Newt shook his head while he was standing there, his mind in a whirlwind, trying to grasp how Newt could have detected that. Sure, it was the truth, and it was an open secret that after you kill or torture or overall gain eternal resentment from enough magical people, it would be recognisable for people who knew to look for it, but he had never thought he would be one of these people.
At the risk of sounding callous about the loss of life, he hadn't even killed that many people! Not to mention, he had never tortured someone or prolonged anyone's death, not of innocent people anyway. The smuggler rapist noble he burned to death did not count, no way was that piece of turd worth even a little bit of Death Aura.
"I have seen stuff, kid," Newt said, as if answering his unasked question, "Looking through you was child's play in comparison." The tone was extremely somber as Newt's hand trembled minutely before he controlled it. It was as if he was recalling an extremely painful memory, which, judging by his age, he should have no dearth of.
Then, as if the previous words were spoken by an entirely different person, he perked up and said, "Anyway, why am I rambling? You youngins have no patience left anyway. What was I going to say? Ah, yes. I think a reintroduction to Voltrok is necessary, don't you think? Now, come on, take us there."
Take us there? Why would he say it like that?
"Oh, come on, now," Newt added in a conspiratorial tone, while Sev looked just about done with everything, "What's there to hide from one criminal to another. Though I must say, becoming a global criminal by wiping Azkaban off the map was certainly a bold move."
He was on his feet and in front of Newt before the man had even finished his sentence, a well timed explosion of kinetic energy generating a wind blast behind him, ruffling all the vegetarian around him, as he dumped all the kinetic energy in his forcefield to come to an abrupt halt in front of the old and now far more dangerous than expected dangerous wizard.
Both of them were far too slow to react to his speed, as he stopped himself from doing anything further, as that would just be against his morals. Straightening up, he sighed, as Sev finally snapped into action, a wand placed in his face, the tip glowing a sickly purple. As if that was going to do anything!
Newt knew that as well, as he slowly lowered Sev's wand using his walking stick before looking at him as if he was a particularly interesting specimen, which was all kinds of disturbing.
"Fascinating," Newt whispered before tapping his walking stick on the ground, "Now, chop chop! Take us there. I know you have a fancy way of flying. I have always wanted to fly using wizard magic, but that damned—" Newt stopped mid way as he just flicked his hand as a forcefield materialised underneath all of them, lifting them all into the air.
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