Chapter 7
The fire crackled softly in the ornate hearth, casting long shadows across the dark-paneled walls of Grimmauld Place. The study smelled of aged parchment, fine ink, and the lingering scent of old magic woven into the very foundation of the Black ancestral home.
Sirius Black sat across from Arcturus Black, his formidable grandfather and the former Head of House, who now regarded him with sharp, assessing eyes.
Despite his age, Arcturus was still as commanding as ever—his silver-white hair was neatly combed back, his aristocratic features hardened by decades of navigating wizarding politics. Though he had officially passed the title of Lord Black to Sirius, his cunning mind remained as sharp as ever.
And right now, that mind was entirely focused on the troubling tale Sirius had just relayed.
The mangrove. The creatures. The boy with glowing green eyes, moving like a phantom through the trees.
Arcturus sat back in his chair, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. "So. You found something after all."
Sirius exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. "Yeah, but we're not equipped to handle this." His frustration was evident. "That place is—wrong, Arcturus. I’ve seen a lot of strange things in my life, but this jungle? It’s alive in a way that makes my instincts scream." He clenched his jaw. “If Harry is in there, we need to be careful. Rushing in could get us all killed.”
Arcturus nodded slowly. "Then the answer is simple." He leveled Sirius with a pointed look. "You need an expert."
Sirius frowned. "I had magizoologists with me—"
"Not good enough." Arcturus waved a dismissive hand. "The two you had may be competent, but they are not who you need. If you want to navigate that mangrove, you need someone who understands magical ecosystems on a fundamental level. Someone who can tell you what is natural and what is... not."
Sirius’s frown deepened. “You’re suggesting someone specific.”
Arcturus gave a slow, deliberate nod. "Newton Scamander."
Sirius hesitated. "Newt Scamander is in America, last I heard. And the British Ministry and MACUSA haven't exactly been on friendly terms since 1975."
Arcturus scoffed. “Yes, because some halfwit from the British Ministry decided it would be a good idea to unleash a captive Chimera in the middle of an American Muggle zoo in St. Louis.”
Sirius winced. “Yeah, that was a disaster.”
“A diplomatic nightmare,” Arcturus corrected sharply. “MACUSA nearly cut off all international cooperation with our Ministry after that idiotic stunt. The only reason they didn’t was because our Unspeakables managed to smooth things over—barely.” He shook his head. “Regardless, Scamander is not MACUSA’s man. He answers to no one but himself.”
Sirius exhaled, leaning forward. “You really think he’d help?”
Arcturus’s eyes gleamed. "I think if you tell him that there is an undiscovered magical ecosystem hidden within the depths of the Indian jungle—one possibly harboring an unknown guardian beast and a wizard-raised child—he’ll be on the next international portkey before you can finish the bloody sentence.”
Sirius considered it.
Newt Scamander was legendary in the field of magizoology. If anyone could make sense of the cryptids lurking in that jungle, it was him.
And if Harry was in there, hidden among the creatures…
Then Sirius needed every advantage he could get.
He sighed. “Alright. I’ll send the letter.”
Arcturus gave a satisfied nod. “Good. And don’t waste time, Sirius. Your godson has survived in that jungle for years—but how much longer can he stay hidden before something else finds him?”
Sirius swallowed hard.
He didn’t intend to find out.
The morning sunlight streamed through the windows of the Scamander home, casting a golden glow over the breakfast table where Newt Scamander sat, happily absorbed in his morning tea and a plate of toast with marmalade. Across from him, his wife, Porpentina “Tina” Scamander, sipped her coffee, flipping through the latest edition of the American Wizarding Times.
It was a rare, quiet morning—the kind of peace that usually didn’t last long in the Scamander household.
Then—a sharp cry echoed outside the window.
Both of them looked up just as a large, sleek American Messenger Hawk swooped in through the open window, landing gracefully on the edge of their dining table.
Newt set down his tea immediately. “Oh, hello there.”
The hawk ruffled its feathers, extending its leg, where an official-looking scroll was tied. The seal on it was unmistakable—House Black, Britain.
Tina raised an eyebrow. “Sirius Black? Haven’t heard that name in a while.”
Newt untied the letter and unrolled it, his sea-green eyes quickly scanning the contents. As he read, his expression shifted—from curiosity to deep, intense focus.
Tina knew that look.
That was Newt’s ‘adventure sense’ tingling.
By the time he finished the letter, he was already standing, reaching for his battered leather case.
Tina chuckled, setting down her coffee. “You haven’t even told me what it says, and you’re already packing.”
Newt, distracted as he rifled through his belongings, murmured, “Fascinating… a hidden magical ecosystem… entirely undocumented cryptids… a lost wizard-raised child… oh, and possibly a guardian beast of unknown origin.”
Tina sighed fondly. “So, we’re going to India then?”
Newt beamed at her. “Yes! Would you mind packing essentials while I prepare my travel gear?”
Tina shook her head, amused but not at all surprised. She picked up the letter, quickly skimming through it herself.
“Hmm,” she mused aloud. “Sounds like I’ll need to pick up some India-appropriate outfits while we’re there.”
Newt, already halfway out the door, called back, “I’m sure we’ll find something at a market!”
Tina chuckled to herself, shaking her head. “Here we go again.”
And with that, she flicked her wand, sending their belongings into their travel bags.
The Scamanders were off on another adventure.
Auror Dhruv Kashyap was so very done.
His day had already been bad enough—wrangling reports about murdered poachers, cryptid-infested mangroves, and a possibly feral wizard child living among the wildlife.
Now?
Now he was stuck in a long-winded meeting with the Head of the Department of Magical Creatures, Professor Amrit Reddy, a man who had spent the last forty-five minutes droning on about the ecological importance of whatever-the-hell-lived-in-that-jungle instead of how to find the missing boy.
“…Of course,” Reddy was saying, adjusting his round spectacles, “if we were to fully understand the nature of this ecosystem, we would need proper field research teams, careful magical tracking, and—”
The door slammed open.
Auror Aisha Rao stepped in, grinning like she had just set up the best prank of the century. "Heads up, Dhruv," she said, far too cheerfully. "Your headache's about to get worse."
And then she led in—
Newt Scamander and Porpentina Scamander.
Newt was practically vibrating with excitement, his sea-green eyes alight as he scanned the room before immediately zeroing in on the two magizoologists who had accompanied Dhruv into the mangrove.
“Oh! You must be Arvind Iyer and Rina Deshmukh!” Newt beamed, stepping forward far too quickly for a man his age. “I read your reports about the Noctalis Gigantus colony and the Nagaraja Crocodilians—absolutely fascinating! Tell me, have you conducted a full magical analysis on their behavioral patterns, or is this mostly based on field observation?”
Arvind, caught between stunned admiration and awkward bafflement, stammered, “Er—uh, mostly field observation, but we—”
“Oh, wonderful, wonderful!” Newt clapped his hands together, already pulling a worn leather notebook from his coat. “Then we’ll have so much to discuss! I was just thinking about the adaptive qualities of semi-aquatic magical reptiles, and your findings could be groundbreaking—”
Rina blinked, looking at Arvind. Is this really happening?
Meanwhile, standing off to the side—Dhruv slowly turned to glare at Sirius Black.
Sirius, to his eternal irritation, looked completely unrepentant.
Remus Lupin, standing beside him, was sniggering into his hand, clearly enjoying the chaos.
Dhruv rubbed his temples, already feeling the migraine forming.
This was his life now.
He couldn’t get a break even if he begged the gods for one.
The warm air was thick with salt and humidity as the team landed on the sandy beach that led into the vast, eerie mangrove jungle. The portkey’s energy faded, leaving behind Newt Scamander, his wife Porpentina Scamander, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and the two magizoologists, Arvind Iyer and Rina Deshmukh.
Thankfully, Dhruv Kashyap had wisely decided to sit this one out.
The moment Newt’s boots touched the ground, the excited sparkle in his eyes intensified.
“Oh, this is spectacular!” he breathed, immediately crouching down to examine the sand beneath him. With a quick flick of his wand, he muttered an analysis charm, his notebook floating beside him, scribbling notes on its own.
Sirius and Remus exchanged a bemused glance.
Tina Scamander, having far too much experience with her husband’s hyperfocus, ignored him entirely and began setting up the camp, conjuring tents, securing their perimeter, and ensuring that their supplies were properly stored.
Meanwhile, Newt was completely lost in his own world.
“Iyer, Deshmukh,” Newt called out, gesturing wildly at the mangrove’s roots. “The magical saturation here is unlike anything I’ve seen outside of deep-restricted ecosystems. This kind of ambient magic usually suggests generational accumulation, possibly even a self-sustaining leyline cycle! Have either of you taken magical density readings?”
Arvind, thrilled beyond belief, immediately fell into step beside Newt. “We’ve recorded fluctuations, but we weren’t sure if it was a leyline anomaly or something more creature-driven.”
Rina nodded excitedly. “Some of the plants here should not be growing this large without direct magical interference. We think the ecosystem is self-reinforcing, possibly due to magical apex species acting as stabilizers!”
Newt’s eyes lit up even more. “Oh, now that is fascinating! Have you noticed any symbiotic interactions between fauna and the surrounding flora?”
Sirius, standing off to the side, blinked.
Remus looked equally lost.
“…Are they speaking a different language?” Sirius muttered.
Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. “I think… I think they are.”
Tina, setting up the last of the camp’s wards, smirked as she walked past them. “You’ll get used to it.”
Sirius shook his head. “Doubt it.”
Meanwhile, Newt had already moved on—pulling out a set of enchanted vials to collect samples from the soil, the plant life, and even the air itself.
And the expedition had only just begun.
The first thing Newt Scamander did, after making sure his enchanted notebook was recording everything, was march straight toward the mangrove’s edge with Arvind and Rina scrambling to keep up.
Sirius and Remus, now fully aware that they were surrounded by magizoologists speaking an entirely different language, had resigned themselves to just watching the chaos unfold.
Tina, having long since mastered the art of balancing Newt’s enthusiasm with actual survival instincts, finished reinforcing the camp’s protective wards, ensuring nothing would sneak up on them in the night.
And then—Newt looked up.
His entire body froze as he caught sight of them.
High above, hanging like massive, living shadows from the twisted branches of the mangrove trees, were the Noctalis Gigantus.
The massive, magical bats, their leathery wings folded around them like thick cloaks, their fur sleek and dark, looked down at the wizards with eerie intelligence. Some twitched their ears, others clicked their teeth softly, as if curious about these new intruders.
One of them—a particularly large specimen—unfolded its wings slightly, stretching out to a wingspan that easily rivaled a Hippogriff’s.
Newt visibly vibrated with excitement.
"Oh," he whispered, eyes wide as saucers, "they're... magnificent."
Sirius and Remus looked up at the creatures, who were at least the size of fully grown wolves, and immediately came to the same conclusion.
"Those things could absolutely kill us."
Newt, oblivious to their concerns, was already pulling out a specialized observation monocle, adjusting it rapidly. "Have you noticed their bone structure?" he asked, glancing at Arvind and Rina. "They're thicker than normal bat physiology, which suggests denser muscle mass! That means their flight mechanics must be more—"
A sudden splash interrupted him.
Newt immediately spun, eyes darting toward the too-calm water, his excitement somehow increasing.
Because slithering just beneath the surface, moving without creating a single ripple, were the Nagaraja Crocodilians.
Sleek, serpentine bodies, glossy obsidian scales, and long, needle-like snouts gliding effortlessly through the black water.
One of them surfaced just slightly, its glowing yellow eyes locking onto Newt with an eerie, steady gaze.
Newt let out an absolutely delighted sound, somewhere between a gasp and a laugh. "Oh, this is marvelous!"
Sirius leaned over to Remus, whispering, "I am 90% sure those things eat people."
Remus, deadpan, muttered, "Newt’s going to try to pet one, isn’t he?"
Tina, from behind them, without looking up from setting camp: "Yes."
Newt, already stepping toward the water with uncontained joy, was muttering, "Oh, look at the way their scales shift! They’re so smooth! You don’t usually see that outside of..."
Sirius grabbed the back of Newt’s coat before he could step into the water.
"Right, that's enough for now," Sirius muttered, dragging Newt backward.
Tina sighed but didn’t intervene. She had already prepared containment spells for when her husband inevitably ignored all common sense.
Newt, however, wasn't deterred at all.
Because now?
Now he knew for sure.
This was an ecosystem unlike any other.
And as the sun dipped below the horizon, the mangrove changed.
The dense jungle, already eerie during the day, became something else entirely in the moonlight. Strange, bioluminescent fungi along the trees cast an ethereal blue glow, illuminating the tangled roots and dark, glass-like water in an unnatural shimmer. The massive bats, once sleeping, began to stir, their massive wings unfolding, revealing red-gold eyes that gleamed in the darkness.
But it was what Newt Scamander found just as dusk settled that had him positively glowing with excitement.
Standing atop a gnarled root, half-shadowed by the thick foliage, was a creature unlike anything recorded in modern magizoology.
It had the predatory grace of a hawk, but its scaled, muscular body was unmistakably reptilian—a cross between a Komodo dragon and a raptor, its sleek feathers blending seamlessly into its thick, plated hide. Its taloned feet gripped the branch with deadly ease, while its powerful tail flicked behind it, keeping its balance as it observed the wizards with unsettling intelligence.
Newt, practically vibrating, whispered to Arvind and Rina, “Do you see this?! Do you see this?!”
Rina’s jaw had dropped. “That’s… that’s a Ravana Drake. But that species was only theoretical—”
“Well,” Newt grinned, “not anymore!”
Before he could even consider approaching, the creature let out a sharp, piercing cry, unfurled its half-feathered, half-scaled wings, and vanished into the canopy in a blur of motion.
Newt, despite missing the chance to observe it longer, looked thrilled beyond words.
Sirius, watching from the side, muttered to Remus, “He’s going to die out here, isn’t he?”
Remus sighed. “Tina won’t let that happen.”
Speaking of Tina Scamander, she was currently directing the newly arrived Auror reinforcements that had just portkeyed in.
The Bhopal DMLE, realizing the magnitude of what they were dealing with, had sent multiple teams of highly trained Aurors—not just to support the expedition, but to protect the magizoologists from whatever the hell was lurking in this jungle.
Even if Newt Scamander seemed blissfully unaware of his own mortality.
As the Aurors finished securing the perimeter, Aisha Rao, one of the senior operatives, walked up to Sirius with a dry smirk. “I hear you brought us a madman, Black.”
Sirius sighed, watching as Newt practically skipped back to camp, already scribbling notes in his enchanted journal.
“You have no idea.”
The night air was thick with the scent of damp earth, ancient wood, and the ever-present hum of magic that pulsed through the mangrove like a living heartbeat. Golden eyes gleamed in the darkness, unblinking, sharp, watching.
Nagini lay coiled atop a high, twisted branch, her massive fifty-five-foot body draped like a silent specter through the gnarled trees. Her dark scales blended perfectly into the surroundings, making her invisible to those who did not know where to look.
And below her, Newt Scamander nearly died.
Again.
She had been watching him for a grand total of thirty minutes, and in that time, the man had almost:
- Walked directly into the path of a hunting Nagaraja Crocodilian, seemingly forgetting that just because something looked calm didn’t mean it was.
- Almost tripped over a venomous vine snake, which had been too baffled to even strike.
- Climbed onto a massive root, only to realize midway up that it was actually the tail of a slumbering Maha-Jharukha Sloth.
- Stepped too close to a cluster of mangrove bioluminescent fungi, which—while beautiful—released hallucinogenic spores when disturbed.
- Attempted to communicate with a merfolk tribal scout, only to learn that their dialect was entirely different from the ocean-dwelling merfolk he was familiar with. He had nearly been speared for the attempt.
Nagini flicked her tongue out in silent amusement as she watched him from the shadows.
"This is the man who helped bring down Gellert Grindelwald?" she thought, her golden eyes narrowing in wry disbelief.
And yet, despite his clear lack of self-preservation, Newt Scamander had an undeniable aura of trust about him. The jungle itself, while certainly trying to kill him, had not yet succeeded. Animals that would have attacked hesitated, creatures that normally fled lingered just a second too long, as if trying to understand him.
He was not an invader.
He was an observer. A seeker of knowledge.
And Aiur knew that amused her greatly.
She had, thankfully, already put Harry to bed—nestled deep within the safety of a hollowed-out tree, cushioned in the warm, feathery embrace of a female Mothman owl, her large wings folded protectively around him.
Thank Aiur that both she and Harry had gained the ability to communicate with the jungle’s creatures, a talent that had developed after years of living in the wilds.
Harry was as much a part of this jungle as the beasts that roamed it.
And soon, he would wake.
Nagini’s tongue flicked again, her unblinking gaze fixed on the team of wizards setting up camp beneath her.
She would watch.
And wait.
Because they had finally come for her son.
The real question was…
Would they be worthy of finding him?
The night was alive with the sounds of the jungle—distant calls of creatures unknown, the rustling of leaves disturbed by unseen things, and the occasional splash of something far too large moving through the water. The air was thick with humidity, the scent of damp earth and magic hanging in the air like a living thing.
And at the center of the expedition camp, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin sat in stunned, wide-eyed horror.
Across from them, Newt Scamander casually sipped tea, seemingly completely unbothered by the fact that he had almost been impaled, poisoned, and eaten in the last forty-five minutes.
Tina Scamander, long-suffering but unfazed, sat beside him, calmly drinking her coffee as if nothing unusual had happened.
Newt, blissfully unaware of his companions' mental breakdowns, was speaking enthusiastically to Arvind and Rina about his failed attempt at communicating with the native merfolk of the mangrove.
“I must say,” Newt began, completely ignoring the fact that he had almost been harpooned, “their dialect is fascinating. It’s far more guttural than the oceanic merfolk I’ve encountered. And their body language is completely different, possibly due to their more arboreal environment—”
Sirius slammed his hands on the table, his voice a mix of disbelief and exasperation.
"YOU WERE NEARLY SPEARED THROUGH THE CHEST, NEWT!"
Newt blinked at him, tilting his head. “Well, yes, but that was due to a misunderstanding—”
“A misunderstanding?!” Remus finally found his voice, his face somewhere between horrified and exhausted. “Newt, they tried to kill you.”
“Well, yes, but that was my fault,” Newt admitted, frowning slightly. “I attempted to use standard Merrow greetings, but their dialect appears to be entirely separate from the usual oceanic linguistic structures. It seems I accidentally told them that I intended to claim their nesting grounds, which—” he waved a hand vaguely, “—you can understand why that would be met with hostility.”
Sirius dragged a hand down his face, looking like he was considering throwing himself into the jungle to escape this madness.
“They had weapons, Newt. They were going to skewer you like a bloody kebab!”
Tina, sipping her coffee, sighed. “This happens more often than you’d think.”
Sirius gaped at her.
“HOW ARE YOU SO CALM ABOUT THIS?!”
Tina raised an eyebrow, setting her cup down. “Sirius, dear, I’ve been married to him for decades.”
Remus, still looking mildly horrified, turned to Arvind and Rina for some sense of normalcy.
Surely, the professional Indian magizoologists would be just as shocked as he was.
Except…
Except Arvind and Rina were nodding along enthusiastically, completely absorbed in Newt’s discussion as if he had just given a lecture at an academic conference.
“Oh, that makes sense,” Rina was saying, scribbling notes. “If their language has diverged so much, it’s likely they don’t have any reference for oceanic kinship terms—”
“Exactly!” Newt beamed. “And I think they may use infra-sound vibrations to communicate over long distances, which means—”
Sirius let out a long, suffering groan and slumped forward, banging his forehead against the table.
Meanwhile, Aisha Rao, standing in the corner, was absolutely losing it.
The senior Auror was in stitches, clutching her sides as she furiously scribbled notes for Dhruv back at the Bhopal DMLE.
Entry #1: “Newt Scamander, world’s most famous magizoologist, apparently does not fear death.”
Entry #2: "Sirius Black currently questioning all of his life choices."
Entry #3: “Remus Lupin is one minor catastrophe away from an existential crisis.”
Entry #4: “Tina Scamander is probably the only reason Newt is still alive.”
Entry #5: “Magizoologists are a different breed of wizard, and I’m both impressed and deeply terrified.”
Sirius lifted his head, looked at Aisha’s shaking form, and groaned.
“I hate all of you.”
Aisha just cackled harder.