Being the primary caretaker of so many creatures was not a cheap endeavor. Usually, Newt fared pretty well. The bit of money he saved from the period he worked at the Ministry and his parents inheritance helped out a good bit.
The release of his book even more so. Still though, when faced with a choice of buying something for himself or his creatures, it wasn’t a very hard decision. Picking his creatures over his own needs was probably one of the reasons why Theseus frowned upon his choice of occupation.
Depending on the health of his creatures usually determined how well or how poorly he did a month. That changed not long after his return to London.
After his first failure to get his travel ban lifted, Newt received a rather odd visitor waiting for him outside his home.
A young witch dressed in high-end fashions Newt only recognized from the similar clothes he’d seen Leta wear was waiting in the archway of his flat. Leaning against the entryway point with a slight board expression on her face that quickly vanished upon seeing Newt.
“Mr. Scamander,” the woman’s voice had a light French accent to it that the Magizoologist couldn’t help but note.
Shuffling a bit, and staying at the bottom step, Newt tried to ignore the bitter disappointment from his rejection at the ministry.
“Is there something I can help you with?”
A small smile, slightly pinched look to it.
“I have been sent with a gift to you, may we go inside?”
Immediately the Magizoologist felt a bit weary of the stranger. People didn’t send him gifts. Leta, at one point in the youth would send him an owl now and again. Theseus was more likely to show up himself then send someone to do something so personal.
‘Perhaps,’ Newt wondered; it was someone who enjoyed his book? If so, why not come see Newt themselves?
Since Pickett hadn’t popped out of his coat picket to warn him, and his swooping evil hadn’t stirred then there mustn’t be a present danger.
Slipping past the woman, Newt opened his front door. Poking his head in first to ensure there were no creatures at the door waiting to escape.
His Niffler especially had been weird as of late. Sure, yes, he was always trying to escape but he was bringing home more and more extravagant things lately.
Once the two were inside and seated, tea brewing in Newt’s small kitchen, the Magizoologist waited for the woman to continue. She did after a moment of looking over his home. A simple affair, Newt didn’t need much. Downstairs though was an entirely different affair. Hopefully, Bunty would have left for the day by now.
She always stayed late, for whatever reason, trying to help him more than her contract required. While he enjoyed that his assistant cared, her attentions were sometimes overwhelming and confusing.
“I am Vinda Rosier,” the woman, Ms. Rosier introduced herself as. “I’ve been sent by a mutual friend of ours, who has become quite taken with your work. Especially your book since its publication. He has come to the decision to use his considerable wealth to fund your research.”
If he was holding his teacup, the redhead probably would have dropped it.
Aside from his few acquittances at Obscurus books and Bunty, Newt had yet to meet a single person who thought his research was worthwhile. Never mind fund it!
Still though, there was something about this stranger that put him on edge. Something he couldn’t place- her presence brought an unfamiliar chill to the air to his usually warm flat.
He’d felt this before- he just couldn’t place it. It wasn’t unlike the sensation of having a word at the tip of his tongue. A frequently annoyance any writer was familiar with.
“Would a monthly stipend of 100 Galleons be adequate? Also, I was told to inform you that should he or any of our friends come across a beast in need we will endeavor to bring it you as quickly as possible. Keeping in mind the safety of the creature, of course.”
The magizooloist really didn’t know what to say- it was almost too good to be true. It had to be too good to be true.
“Who is our mutual friend?”
The woman gave another pinched sort of smile, pulling out a small package wrapped in blue paper. The shade was familiar- actually the same as his coat. The one he stopped wearing upon returning to England in order to avoid Theseus’ comments. His big brother always liked to point out the shade as being too feminine for him.
Sometimes, Newt just got tired of ignoring his brother and the way Theseus’ words would worm into his brain. Keeping him awake late at night with the heavy weight of self-hatred.
The Magizoologist couldn’t care less about what people thought of him, that was the price he paid for the freedom to explore and care for his creatures. But Theseus still managed to get make Newt’s self-worth take a nose dive whenever the two were together.
Gingerly taking the package, Newt opened the folded parchment tied atop it.
Inside, Newt found the evidence that this was all too good to be true.
Newton,
I do hope it isn’t too presumptuous of me to refer to you by your given name. I feel out meeting in New York was not mere coincidence and instead a stroke of fate. You and I are kindred spirits, so to speak. We both have been excommunicated for our beliefs, and yours I believe to be as worthwhile as my own. My only request for the funding is that you continue on and further your field of study. Do not interfere again with my work, Darling. I’d hate to have to confine you until my war is complete. The world I build for us will be one much safer for your beasts.
Don’t you dream of a better world, my Newton?
Yours,
G.G.
The initials were difficult to decipher for a moment, intertwined with the triangle symbol so often associated with Grindelwald. It meant something; he just didn’t know what.
Without another thought, he handed the unopened package to Ms. Rosier who didn’t take the item back. Instead, she pulled out a small purple leather pouch and laid it down on the table between them.
“Would you really put your own feelings above the care of your beasts? Keep it Mr. Scamander, you may find one day you need my Lord’s help. On that day, he will come to you.”
She left after that, leaving Newt confused and afraid. Sure, the woman hadn’t done anything to him or his creatures. But to be back on Grindelwald’s radar again was the exact thing that Theseus hadn’t wanted him to do.
Newt didn’t know how long he stayed there before he opened the package. His hands shaking as he did so. He’d cast a number of spells beforehand to ensure there was nothing amiss and the only things he’d found were stasis and protection charms.
Inside was a necklace with a charm. The same triangle symbol hung from the golden chain, blue and green gemstones imbedded into the charm.
He didn’t wear it, but more often than not in the future Newt found himself putting the charm into his pocket. Newt knew he shouldn’t but, well, sometimes it did give a degree of comfort.
And the gold every month really was helpful. He just stopped thinking about where it came from to ease the guilt of using it.