Bowtruckles
"Minerva" Dumbledore greeted his best friend, Minerva McGonagall.
"Hello Albus" she greeted back, not looking up from her book.
"Any of the first years caught your eye yet?"
She knew. There was always someone who spiked Dumbledores interest. Every year.
"Kind of, yes" Albus replied thoughtfully.
Minerva looked up from her book, interested. Professor McGonagall always claims she helps her best friend in observing the "star student" out of curiosity, but deep down, she knew student Albus picked will become something great.
"Who is it?" Minerva asked, not getting the answear instantly
"Newt Scamander, Theseus' little brother" Dumbledore said, sitting in the chair in front of professors desk, facing her.
"Why so? I trust your judgement, Albus, but..." she looked away
"He seems to like hiding in his brothers shadow."
"Thats what bothers me the most." Albus paused
"Its rather his personality that interested me, he is a very talented and powerful wizard. But he is kind more then anything"
"The boy is an outcast" Minerva stated sadly, pulling out a wizarding chess board.
Dumbledore smirked at the set.
"What?" Minerva said apologetically
"You are the only worthy opponent of mine" Albus snorted
"Surely Pomona can face you." He argued.
"I know her too well, I can predict every move she makes." Minerva claimed with a hint of pride in her voice. She made her first move.
"Im not surprised. You too were quiet close in your Hogwarts days." Albus smiled at the thought of young Minerva.
He only started teaching when McGonagall was 7th year, but he had seen the close bond between the two up close.
"Back to the subject." she started "What is so special about the boy? You know I like helping outcasts fit in, especially first years, but there is more to him isnt there?" Albus wouldnt have mentioned him if there wasnt more then meets the eye to the boy.
Albus ordered one of the pawns forward, not replying.
"I saw him talking to a tree yesterday" Albus said in his 'im thinking' voice.
Minerva raised an eyebrow at him, she made her next move as she waited for context.
"There is no context Minerva" Dumbledore replied as if he read her mind "Maybe there is more to it, since he keeps on coming to that same tree and talking to it every day."
"I will keep an eye on him" Minerva said, confused by this strange behavior of her student.
"He is exceptionally kind." Albus stated matter-of-factly. Confident, Transfiguration professor noted.
They continued and finished their wizarding chess game in silence.
Minerva won easily due to her friend being lost in thought the whole time.
So much of a worthy opponent, she thought.
He went off to that tree after the game was finished.
Newt was sitting there, reading a book aloud, to a tree. Albus watched closely for something to happen. He couldnt hear the boys reading, but the book had a picture of a Thunderbird on it.
'Mighty Beasts Of America' The professor recognized the book.
Every book from Hogwarts library was worn out and old. This one wasnt. The book belonged to Newt.
Albus' patiance was starting to wear thin. Nothing was happening. The kid was just wierd.
Or so he thought. Newt slowly extended his palm towards the tree. A tiny bowtruckle jumped in his palm, settling comfortably there. Newt watched with stars in his eyes as one climbed on his head, nesting in his messy hair.
A few more hopped on Newt, the boys main focus was still on the baby bowtruckle in his palm.
Newt stared at the tiny bowtruckles with look of sheer happiness.
Albus made his way over, being silent for a few moments so he doesn't ruin the moment.
"This is the first time they let me hold them, professor." Newt spoke up, for the first time in a while, he wasnt afraid of being judged. His favourite professor always seemed to understand him, how? He didnt know.
Newt knew he was strange, maybe the professor was just as wierd as he was.
"This one is Pickett." The boy began introducing his bowtruckles to the awed professor. Not a lot of people can earn bowtrucles trust, and even less eleven-year-olds have the patience to do so.
"The two wrestling on my shoulder are Carrot and Sprouts." He said scoldingly, fake glaring at the two. Dumbledore didnt know how Newt menaged to make a glare look gentle, but he did it. The pair stopped fighting and made peace with sharing Newts shoulder.
Albus laughed slightly.
He remained there for a while. Chatting to the boy.
The professor mentioned his friend, Percival Graves, who was a very successful auror working for MACUSA.
The boys expression turned sad and he looked away from Dumbledore, staring softly at his bowtruckle.
"Do you think I will ever be able to become an auror?"
Newt asked quietly.
Albus studied the boys voice, hopeful, sad but also... resentful? His body language told the professor that Newt was nervous and scared. Of what? Albus didnt know.
Newt didnt look like someone who wanted to be an auror to Dumbledore. The professor noticed, everytime there was an arguement or a fight between students, he would look at them, longing to help, but also unsure.
It was clear Newt hated conflict.
"Do you want to be an auror Newt?" Dumbledore prompted gently, putting both his hands on Newts shoulders and holding him firmly in place. The boy looked just about ready to run away. The only bowtruckle left was Pickett, still standing fearlessly in Newts palm while the others scattered.
"Not really" Newt murmured.
The student tried hiding his expression and body language so his professor couldnt read him. But his tone gave away that he felt ashamed.
"Newt, you are an exceptional wizard," Albus said dissmissively, not wanting to expand on the topic. Thats not what the boy wanted to hear. "But, I do see your talents and interests are, in fact, not in the ministry of magic" Newt slightly looked up from his shues. Not yet looking his favourite professor in the eye.
"Your passion," Dumbledore pointedly looked at the brave bowtruckle "is in your hands right now."
Newt was at a loss of words, overjoyed to have someone supporting his ambition to become a magizoologist.
After all, Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard living, yet he choose to be a school teacher.
Nobody here said all great wizards and witches are aurors. Only his parents say that.
Determination filled the boy. He was going to prove his parents wrong.