First Sparks
‘’’Dragonslayer? They told me you were a dragon expert!’’
‘’I am an expert,’’ Nathaniel said blandly. ‘’At slaying dragons.’’ The corner of his mouth quirked up as if he were fighting a smile.
Newt stared at him, lost for words. The dragonslayer lounged back in his chair across from him, taking a casual sip from his glass of whiskey. Newt looked down at the table, silently furious. Here he was on assignment trying to track down a dragon and the Ministry had sent a slayer to help him? Newt should have known the minute he laid eyes on Nathaniel Blackburne what his true profession was. He had met dragonslayers before and they were all the same, puffed up with arrogance, smelling of blood and dragon hide.
He had been instructed to meet up with a ‘dragon expert’ in a tiny muggle tavern in Wales, close to the area where the dragon had been sighted. He had been waiting for a good twenty minutes, nursing a cup of horrible tea served in a dented tin mug before Nathaniel showed up. When he had walked into the dingy room, Newt had noticed him immediately. Tall and powerfully built, wearing a long black wool coat with an oversize collar, he had strode into the pub like he owned it – and everything in it. His dark eyes had swept the pub and when they landed on Newt, he smirked and made his way over. For some reason, Newt was instantly reminded of a panther he had seen on his travels, beautiful, its entire being pulsating with deadly grace.
And then he was face to face with Nathaniel, shaking his hand and introducing himself and his mind switched over to the image of a pirate. Though Nathaniel was completely devoid of peg leg and eye patch, there was something about him that smacked of roguishness and outlaws. He had short black hair, and his tan, weathered face was covered with manly stubble. His eyes were dark brown, almost black and they sparkled with faint amusement as if he were on the verge of telling a joke. Newt hadn’t been able to hold his gaze for too long, though. There was something about the dragonslayer that made him a little nervous but Newt chalked that up to the fact that Nathaniel was a person and people typically made him nervous.
And then they had talked and the truth had come out and now Newt was stuck with him.
‘’So…the Ministry hired you to kill this dragon we’re looking for?’’ he asked Nathaniel.
‘’Well, what else are you supposed to do with a dragon? Keep it as a pet?’’ He chuckled but Newt didn’t laugh. He looked down at his hands, clenched tightly around his mug.
Nathaniel sighed. ‘’Oh, don’t tell me.’’
‘’What?’’
‘’You’re a beast chaser.’’
‘’I beg your pardon?’’ Newt said, blinking at him.
‘’A beast chaser,’’ Nathaniel said. ‘’One of those soft-hearted little sods who chase after dangerous creatures, bleating about how misunderstood they are, how they’re not really dangerous. Next thing you know, they’re getting their heads ripped off.’’ He rolled his eyes and took another sip of his drink.
‘’Well, I'm perfectly intact,’’ Newt said, a slight edge to his voice.
Nathaniel leaned forward suddenly, causing Newt to lean back, startled. His dark gaze swept over Newt’s body, long and lingering, then back up to Newt’s face. ‘’Yes,’’ he said softly, ‘’I can see that you are.’’ That smirk was back on his face and Newt felt himself blush. After a few seconds, Nathaniel settled back in his chair and Newt could breathe again.
‘’And I’m not a beast chaser,’’ Newt stammered. ‘’I’m a magizoologist.’’
Nathaniel laughed. ‘’A magizoologist?’’ he said incredulously, ‘’There’s no such thing.’’
‘’I’m the first one.’’
Nathaniel raised a brow. ‘’The first one, huh? Surely an official title bestowed on you by the Ministry, then? Of course it can’t be a field of study you made up all by yourself?’’ His voice was dripping with mockery. The man was infuriating but Newt couldn’t think of anything clever to say. He had made up the title and the name of the field but just because he was the first didn’t mean that he was a fake.
‘’I’ve dedicated my life to studying magical creatures,’’ Newt said quietly, not looking at Nathaniel. ‘’And I’m not the only one.’’
‘’Yes, like I’ve said. Beast chasers.’’
Nathaniel Blackburne was not the first person Newt had come across to ridicule his choice of profession. Newt was used to the scoffing, the laughter, the outright hostility. He knew his chances of swaying someone like Nathaniel over to his point of view were slim to none. So Newt did what he always did: swallowed his true feelings and tried to act like a professional. He was hopeful that, one day, his work would speak for itself.
‘’So what are we going to do about this dragon then?’’ Newt asked.
‘’What are we going to do about it? You are going to help me track it and then I am going to kill it like I was hired to do.’’ Nathaniel rose from the table, casually dropping some muggle money on it to pay for their drinks. ‘’And I think if we’re going to work together it would be best to get it over with as soon as possible, don’t you think?’’ He started to make his way to the door.
Something sparked in Newt and he twisted in his chair, looking Nathaniel boldly in the face. ‘’I know men like you, Mr. Blackburne,’’ he said. ‘’I know men who are cold and hard-hearted and think just because they don’t feel anything, no other human, no other creature feels anything else either. And I can tell you men like you are wrong.’’ Newt was so furious it took him a few seconds to realize he was making full eye contact with Nathaniel and quickly stared at a spot over his left shoulder instead.
Nathaniel’s jaw clenched and, for a second, Newt thought he might just curse him there on the spot. Instead, a slow, malicious smile spread over his face and, bracing one hand on the table and the other one on the back of Newt’s chair, he leaned over Newt, his face mere inches away. ‘’Let’s say we make a little wager,’’ he said, his voice dangerously low. ‘’You show me a way to capture and contain this dragon safely without killing it and I’ll never slay another dragon.’’
Newt, who had been concentrating on Nathaniel’s ear to keep from having a panic attack, looked at him in surprise. ‘’You…you would do that?’’
Nathaniel nodded. ‘’The chances of you containing a dragon safely without killing it are so infinitesimal that it’s hardly a risk for me. But if you somehow do manage to accomplish such a feat, you have my word.’’
Newt considered it. He had worked with dragons before in the war, seen them in his travels. It would be tricky…but not impossible. And if it meant one less dragonslayer walking the earth, that was icing on the cake. Newt nodded. ‘’I accept your wager.’’
Nathaniel smirked. ‘’I thought you might.’’
Newt suddenly became very aware of how close they were. His heart started to pound and he seemed to be having trouble breathing properly. He tried to take a deep breath and inhaled a spicy, musky scent that could only come from the man standing over him. Newt gripped the edge of his chair and closed his eyes. ‘’And if you win?’’ Newt said, his voice unsteady.
Nathaniel didn’t answer for several seconds and Newt opened his eyes to find that Nathaniel’s gaze had drifted down to his mouth. His eyes were smoldering and Newt was sure he could actually feel heat radiating from him. He looked back into Newt’s eyes and leaned a little bit closer. ‘’I’ll think of something,’’ he whispered. Then he was gone, crossing the tavern and heading out the door.
Newt sat there for a full five minutes, stunned. His entire body was trembling and there was an odd tingling feeling in his stomach. Usually quite observant, he had become completely oblivious to his surroundings. He didn’t notice when a loud, jovial group of men entered the pub, nor did he notice that the muggle bartender was staring at him suspiciously. He gripped the handle of his case under the table, willing himself to calm down. He heard the door bang open and looked round to see Nathaniel poking his head in. ‘’’Are you coming or not?’’ he shouted, sounding impatient. Newt could only nod and, picking up his case, followed Nathaniel out of the pub.