Sketching Shells and Unicorn Talk
Newt and Nathaniel headed to the outskirts of the little village and disapparated to the rolling green hills of the Welsh countryside. It was a bright, spring day and a gentle breeze ruffled past them, rustling through the grass. Newt knew from the hazy reports that the Ministry had gathered that the dragon was most likely a Common Welsh Green, lived in the mountains surrounding the village, and was occasionally spotted by muggles when it swooped overhead carrying livestock. Thank Merlin it hadn’t killed any humans or else the Ministry wouldn’t even consider capturing it and trying to relocate it. Newt was well aware that the Ministry’s usual policy was just to kill dragons if they got too close to human dwellings, regardless if they posed an actual threat to human life. He had argued passionately for capturing and relocating the dragon and he was pretty sure his Department Head had agreed with him just to shut him up. And that’s why they had insisted that he team up with a dragon ‘expert’ Newt suddenly realized. Dragonslayers always kill first and ask questions later so they had hired Nathaniel to kill the dragon anyway because they were sure Newt would fail. Newt was determined though. He wasn’t going to allow any more of this needless slaughter.
He stole a glance at the dragonslayer, noting his easy, unhurried stride as he scanned the valleys and hills, his wand in his hand. They hadn’t spoken much outside the pub except to determine the general direction they were headed. That was fine with Newt, really. He didn’t care to hear how many dragons Nathaniel had killed or how many trophies he had stashed in his house. Dragonslayers, Newt thought bitterly. They really were the worst sort of wizard. The thought of what they did turned his stomach - which was probably why he felt that odd fluttering sensation every time he looked at Nathaniel. Which was quite often. Usually, if Newt was forced to work with another person, he made a habit of tuning them out and focusing solely on the animals – it was one of the main reasons people found him a pain to work with. But Newt was finding it impossible to tune out Nathaniel – in fact he was hyperaware of him to the point where he wasn’t even keeping his mind on what they were supposed to be doing.
Nathaniel started to turn toward him while Newt was staring at him and Newt quickly looked in the other direction and pretended to be scanning the ground for signs of the dragon.
‘So,’’ Nathaniel said, ‘’what years were you at Hogwarts?’’
‘’Er…1908 to 1915.’’
‘’Ah, you started the year after I left. You wouldn’t happen to be Theseus Scamander’s little brother, would you?''
‘’Yes,’’ Newt said shortly. He didn’t feel much like getting into his family history just now.
‘’What house were you in?’’
‘’Hufflepuff.’’
Nathaniel chuckled. ‘’A bleeding heart beast chaser in Hufflepuff? Why does that not surprise me.’’
Newt glared at him. He wasn’t sure if he was being insulted or not. ‘’Let me guess yours then. I would say Slytherin house but that seems almost too obvious.’’ Newt immediately felt a flush creeping over his face. What was the matter with him?
Nathaniel put a hand over his chest, arranging his features into an expression of exaggerated pain. ‘’You wound me, Scamander. But you’re right, I was in Slytherin. Although the hat did consider putting me in Gryffindor,’’ he added thoughtfully.
They discussed school for a few more minutes, Newt letting Nathaniel do most of the talking. He learned that Nathaniel was a Chaser on the Slytherin Quidditch team, being made captain in his fifth year ( because of course) and that his favorite subject had been Defense Against the Dark Arts (again, obvious.)
Newt gave vague, one-word answers when Nathaniel asked him about his own years at school. His memories of Hogwarts were complicated, to say the least. Some of his happiest memories were formed at school – and some of the worst, too. And they all involved the same person.
Nathaniel must have gotten the hint that Newt was reluctant to carry on the conversation because he stopped asking Newt questions and they continued their search in silence.
A few hours later, the sun was beginning to set, sinking below the mountains, turning the peaks blood red, and throwing the surrounding valley into shadow.
‘’Let’s turn in,’’ Nathaniel said. ‘’We’re unlikely to find any signs of the dragon in the dark.’’ Newt agreed and they apparated back to the village. Once they got back to the tavern, Newt immediately headed for his room on the second floor.
Nathaniel called after him. ‘’You’re not hungry?’’
Newt turned around halfway up the stairs and looked down at Nathaniel. The dragonslayer was looking up at him, caught in a halo of light from one of the lamps on the wall. From this angle, Newt noticed that his eyes looked a shade lighter and the color reminded him of warm, melted chocolate…
Nathaniel’s expression turned quizzical and Newt became aware of the fact that he had been staring at the other man for a full five seconds without saying anything. He gave himself a little shake and tore his gaze from the dragonslayer’s face. ‘’No, I think I’ll just take something up in my room, I’m a bit tired as it is,’’ he called over his shoulder. And before Nathaniel could say anything else, Newt bolted up the stairs and into his room. He leaned against his closed door and let out a long, shaky breath, willing his heart to return to its normal rhythm. He was just grateful that the tavern had enough rooms available so that they didn’t have to share.
***
For the next few days they headed out into the hills and mountains of Wales looking for the dragon but to no avail. Newt was becoming increasingly frustrated as each day passed with no progress. The longer he had to look for the dragon, the longer he had to endure the presence of Nathaniel Blackburne – which wasn’t exactly fun. He felt shaky and self-conscious around the dragonslayer and he didn’t know why. He couldn’t concentrate on the task at hand when they were out together because his eyes kept wandering over to Nathaniel and in the first two days, Newt was sure he had studied him so often, he might as well include Nathaniel in his manuscript of beasts he’d observed. While they traveled over the countryside, Newt amused himself with writing the entry in his head:
Dragonslayer
M.O.M Classification: XXXX (Dangerous)
The dragonslayer is a murderous creature, spending the majority of its life killing innocent creatures for pleasure and profit. While dragonslayers come in all colors, shapes, and sizes, the typical specimen is tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular. Approach with caution; do not attempt to befriend.
Newt smiled wryly to himself. Yes, Nathaniel should have a XXXX rating at the very least.
‘’What are you smiling about?’’
Nathaniel’s voice broke through Newt’s reverie, startling him. ‘’Oh, um, nothing,’’ he said.
Nathaniel looked at Newt with raised eyebrows, then turned away, shaking his head and muttering something to himself. He and Newt didn’t talk much during their excursions. Newt had decided that they probably didn’t have anything in common, besides having attended the same school, so there was no point in getting to know Nathaniel. This was how he felt about most people. And he was sure Nathaniel couldn’t be interested in him. They spoke only when absolutely necessary, returning to the inn at night to their separate rooms – and continuing to eat their meals separately. This didn’t bother Newt. The less contact he had with the dragonslayer, the better. He wished, for the hundredth time, that he was working alone. Or that the Ministry had hired someone else – anyone else.
After another long day of fruitless searching, they apparated back to the village.
***
The next morning, Newt was just finishing his breakfast in his room when he heard a knock at the door. A bit apprehensive, he crossed the room and opened it to see Nathaniel standing there which struck him as odd. They usually met downstairs in the tavern.
‘’Yes?’’
‘’Make sure you have everything before we leave. We can’t come back here tonight.’’ Nathaniel spoke quietly and his tone was uncharacteristically serious.
‘’What-why?’’ Newt asked, puzzled.
Nathaniel’s gaze shifted away from him, scanning the hallway, as if he was making sure no one could overhear them. He turned back to Newt. ‘’Just do as I say. I’ll explain later.’’ And he marched away, heading for the stairs.
Thoroughly confused, Newt closed the door. He had no idea what was going on but Nathaniel had seemed incredibly grim. Everything Newt had was in his case but he did one last sweep of the room to make sure he hadn’t left anything behind – and to ensure that the slippery little Niffler hadn’t made another break for it. Putting on his coat, he headed downstairs to join Nathaniel. They left the keys to their rooms on the counter and headed out. Once they had apparated back into the countryside, Newt immediately questioned Nathaniel.
‘’Why was it so important for us to leave?’’
Nathaniel looked at him. ‘’You don’t travel much with other people, do you?’’
‘’Not if I can help it, no,’’ he said. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he cringed inwardly, realizing how that must sound to Nathaniel.
But Nathaniel flashed Newt a grin. ‘’No, I thought not,’’ he said. His expression turned serious again. ‘There are some muggles,’’ he said, choosing his words carefully, ‘’that see two men traveling together as…slightly suspicious. Not all the time but sometimes they think it can be, well, inappropriate.’’
‘’Inappropriate?’’ Newt said, flabbergasted. ‘’Why on earth would they think it was inappropriate?’’
Nathaniel stared at him. ‘’You really don’t know?’’
‘’Know what?’’
Nathaniel opened his mouth and he seemed on the verge of saying something but then he closed his mouth and looked away, appearing to change his mind. ‘’Suffice it to say that the innkeeper paid me a visit this morning and said it would be best if you and I were to find ‘other accommodations’.’’ He started to walk past Newt, apparently done with the conversation.
‘’I still don’t-‘’ Newt started to say.
‘’Look, it doesn’t matter,’’ Nathaniel snapped. ‘’We can stay somewhere else.’’ He strode off, and Newt, after a few seconds, followed. He was careful to stay a few paces behind Nathaniel – the dragonslayer’s entire body was tense, his shoulders hunched up and he was walking more quickly than usual, his boots stomping on the grass, his black coat billowing behind him. Newt could feel the rage emanating from him but didn’t dare ask him any more questions. But he was more confused than ever. Why had the innkeeper insisted they leave? And why was Nathaniel so angry about it? Was it possible the innkeeper had somehow discovered they were wizards? Newt really didn’t have a clue so he tried to put it out of his mind and focus on what he was supposed to be doing – looking for the ever-elusive dragon.
They spent the entire morning hunting across rolling green hills and valleys that skirted the foot of the looming mountains, trying to find any shred of evidence of where the dragon might be. Newt was beginning to think they were going to have to traverse the entire countryside of Wales before they found anything. The obvious problem with tracking dragons was that they could fly. But usually they left some scant evidence on the ground somewhere. Scorch marks, entrails from their kills…
‘’Shells,’ Nathaniel said suddenly.
Newt looked round at him. ‘’What?’’
‘’Eggshells,’’ Nathaniel said and pointed. Glittering in the sun beside a deep, black lake was a smattering of large silvery blue shards. Newt bent down for a closer look.
‘’Hmmm…by the looks of the shards, I’d say there were three of them, all hatched successfully.’’ He looked more closely at the shells, frowning. ‘’But these don’t look like Welsh Green eggs, they look more like-‘’
‘’Ukranian Ironbelly eggs,’’ Nathaniel said.
Newt turned and squinted up at him, incredulous. ‘’How on earth do you know that?’’
Nathaniel smiled at him but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘’Dragon expert, remember?’’ His face clouded over and he shifted slightly, looking uncomfortable. He looked back at Newt and nodded towards the mountains towering over them. ‘’What d’you reckon?’’
Newt stood up dusting off his hands. ‘’I think she would have taken her babies up there between the two highest peaks. It looks like they form some sort of bowl in the middle and that would probably be the ideal spot for her.’’
‘’You know if worse comes to worse I’m going to have to kill the hatchlings as well.’’
Newt jolted as if he had been electrocuted and looked at Nathaniel. There was no trace of arrogance in his face now but something much grimmer…was that shame? Newt looked back down at the eggshells. ‘’It won’t come to that,’’ Newt said.
Behind him, he heard Nathaniel sigh. ‘’We’ll see.’’
Newt reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a small notebook and pencil. ‘’I’m just going to do a quick sketch of these,’’ he told Nathaniel, sitting down near the shells and opening his notebook to a fresh page. To his surprise, Nathaniel sat down beside him and stretched out his legs, propping himself up on his elbow, staring out at the lake. Newt tried to ignore the fact that the dragonslayer was lying mere inches from him but his hands were slightly unsteady as he began his sketch. A breeze danced past them, carrying the spicy, masculine scent of the other man to Newt’s nose. It made him slightly dizzy. He gave himself a little shake, trying to pull himself together. Still it was taking him a lot longer to sketch these shells than it normally would have done.
They sat in silence for a while, the only sound the scratch of Newt’s pencil. He thankfully became absorbed in his work and he could almost forget that the dragonslayer was sitting beside him. That is until Nathaniel shifted and leaned over Newt’s shoulder to look at his sketch. Newt’s body went rigid and he could have sworn that his heart had stopped. Either that or his heart was now beating so fast he couldn’t count the individual beats.
‘’Hmm,’’ Nathaniel said appraisingly, studying Newt’s drawing. ‘’So how’d you get into magizoology anyway?’’
Newt could feel Nathaniel’s breath on his cheek as he spoke, he was sitting so close. A shiver ran down his spine. ‘’W-well,’’ Newt stammered, ‘’my mother, uh, she bred Hippogriffs and she kind of um, taught me how to handle them and it all kind of snowballed from there.’’
‘’As simple as that? I thought it would be something grander – like you went into the Forbidden Forest and tamed every creature in there.’’
Newt smiled. ‘’You’re not too far off actually.’’
Nathaniel returned his smile. ‘’Really? Do tell, Mr. Scamander.’’
‘’Well, I was slightly disappointed when I realized Hogwarts didn’t offer a class studying magical creatures so me and a – a friend of mine would sneak into the forest and look for different beasts and study them.’’
‘’You little rebel. I never would have guessed. Did you ever get caught?’’
‘’Yes, many times. Lost a lot of points for Hufflepuff, I can tell you,’’ he said, absently shading in the eggs in his drawing.
‘’I’m surprised you didn’t start teaching students yourself when you were there. You should have formed some sort of club.’’ Nathaniel grinned. ‘’A beast chasing club.’’
‘’I don’t think many people would join. But,’’ he hesitated slightly. He had never voiced this thought aloud to anyone before. ‘’But,’’ he pressed on, ‘’one day I’d like to help establish a course that studies magical creatures at Hogwarts. Teach students about different species, how to look after them, that sort of thing.’’
‘’Ah yes I can see it now. First term, dragons. Second term, Acromantula and third term, hell, let’s say manticores? Whoever is still alive at the end of the year passes the class.’’ He chuckled to himself.
‘’It wouldn’t be like that,’’ Newt said, slightly annoyed but smiling in spite of himself. ‘’I would hope that whoever was headmaster or headmistress would never hire someone who thought unleashing potentially lethal beasts upon the students is the same as educating them about magical creatures. The idea would be to start with something relatively harmless, like Salamanders, and then move onto creatures that are a bit more complex but still safe.’’
Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. ‘’Like what, may I ask?’’
‘’Creatures like Nifflers, demiguises, thestrals maybe, unicorns-‘’
‘’Oh I love unicorns,’’ Nathaniel blurted out.
Newt’s pencil stopped in mid-stroke and he turned slowly to face Nathaniel. He could see the dragonslayer’s face had turned slightly red and he was biting his lip. He seemed to have just realized he had voiced a private thought out loud. He glanced at Newt. ‘’I mean quite brutal beasts if you think about it,’’ he said awkwardly. ‘’With the horns and the hooves and the…tails.’’ He stopped, looking quite embarrassed.
‘’You like unicorns.’’
Nathaniel rolled his eyes. ‘’Alright, the mighty dragonslayer has a soft spot for unicorns. Shocking, I know.’’
Newt couldn’t help smiling. It was kind of endearing, to see this alpha male confess a secret love of unicorns. ‘’Have you ever seen one?’’
‘’Oh, I’ve seen herds from far away. They never let me get too close though. They can probably smell the bloodshed on me.’’ He smiled, but Newt couldn’t help hearing the bitter undertone in his words. ‘’Have you ever been close to one?’’
‘’A few times, yes.’’
‘’Again, not surprising. You probably reek of innocence and good intentions.’’
Newt was sure it was supposed to be a cutting remark but it didn’t have any bite to it. Sensing that the conversation was at an end, he turned back to his sketch.
‘’What are they like?’’
Newt stopped and turned. Nathaniel was staring at him and there was a look of almost desperate curiosity on his face. ‘I mean, what are they like? Up close?’’
‘’Well,’’ Newt said slowly, ‘’they’re some of the most beautiful creatures I’ve ever seen. They have a glow to them, like they’ve been painted with moonlight. When you’re close to them, you feel a sense of calm. A sense of peace and tranquility. If you get a unicorn to trust you, it’s…an incredible magic.’’
Nathaniel swallowed and looked away. ‘’Sounds enchanting.’’
They were both quiet for a while after that, Newt finally finishing his sketch of the dragon egg shells and Nathaniel seemingly lost in thought. When the sun started to sink behind the mountains, Nathaniel stood up and dusted himself off. Newt followed him up, carefully collecting the shells and slipping them inside his case.
‘’Where do you think we should stay for the night?’’ he asked Nathaniel.
''There’s a wizarding inn over in the next county. We can just apparate there and come back here in the morning. It’s called The Warlocks Way. Heard of it?’’
Newt shook his head. ‘’No, can’t say I have.’’ He didn’t usually stay in taverns or inns if he could help it. His Ministry salary typically didn’t allow such luxuries but he wasn’t going to tell Nathaniel that.
‘’I guess if you’ve never been there, you better hold onto me.’’ Nathaniel offered Newt his arm, like he was a gentleman escorting him out on the town. Newt hesitated. Nathaniel rolled his eyes. ‘’Come on, Scamander, I won’t bite.’’ Newt reached out and gingerly wrapped his hand around Nathaniel’s upper arm, noticing the hardness of the muscle under his sleeve.
‘’Ready?’’ Nathaniel asked.
Newt nodded, looking anywhere but at Nathaniel. They both turned and were swallowed up by crushing darkness.
They appeared moments later before a two-story tavern. Newt noticed that it leaned slightly to the left but it seemed sound enough. He looked around and saw that the inn was set in a large clearing in a leafy forest.
‘’Bit out of the way,’’ Newt said.
‘’That’s the point isn’t it? Keep it away from prying muggle eyes.’’ Nathaniel strode to the door and Newt followed him.
The ground floor was one immense room with wooden tables scattered throughout. There was a large wooden bar across the length of the back wall, where a portly man stood, using his wand to enchant rags that were cleaning a collection of solid gold goblets by themselves.
‘’Evening, gents,’’ he said as they made their way over.
‘’Good evening, sir,’’ Nathaniel said. ‘’Any chances of any rooms for rent?’’
‘’Just the one,’’ the innkeeper replied. ‘’I’m afraid it’s one with separate twin beds though.’’ He looked over at Newt and winked.
Newt frowned. ‘’Why would that-‘’
Nathaniel waved a hand at him, cutting him off. ‘’Separate beds will do just fine.’’
‘’Excellent.’’ The innkeeper bent down and rummaged underneath the bar and emerged holding a small gold key. He dropped it into Nathaniel’s hand. ‘’She’s all yours, gents. Number 7.’’ Nathaniel thanked him politely, while Newt muttered a quiet ‘thank you.’ He was still puzzling over the innkeeper’s remarks about the beds when a loud voice behind him made him jump.
‘’Blackburne, you son of a bitch, I was wondering when you were going to turn up!’’
Nathaniel and Newt both turned to see a burly, red-bearded man striding toward them. Newt went cold at the sight of him. There was no doubt what this man did for a living. He was dressed, head to toe, in shimmering dragon hide. A long black trench coat, knee-high boots – even his trousers were made of the scaly material. As the man came closer, Newt could see a large fang dangling from his neck, tied to a strip of leather cord.
The man walked straight up to Nathaniel, clapping him on the shoulder and grinning. ‘How are you, old friend?’’
‘’I’m as well as I can be. Is that a new coat?’’ His voice was light and friendly but Newt saw Nathaniel had shifted a bit to the right, positioning himself slightly in front of Newt.
‘’You noticed.’’ The man stepped back, running his hands down his lapel, preening. ‘Got it off my last kill. Hungarian Horntail. Nasty bugger but ended up being quite a prize if I do say so myself.''
Nathaniel smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Congratulations.’’
‘’Thanks. So, I heard you were on the hunt down here. That’s why I came.’’ His eyes fell on Newt, and he frowned. ‘’Who’s this?’’
Nathaniel gestured to Newt. ‘’Mr. Scamander was sent by the Ministry to assist me. Newt, this is Robert Thorne. We hunted down a Rhodesian Ridgeback together a few years back.’’
‘’Yes, it was quite the adventure,’ said Thorne. ‘’So,’’ he said, rubbing his hands together, ‘the Ministry actually contacted me first about this dragon around here. Couldn’t do it of course because of that Horntail I was wrangling. But once I finished with that pesky bugger, I thought I’d come down here and see if you needed an extra pair of hands.’’
Newt didn’t like the eager gleam in the other slayer’s eyes. There was something about him that made Newt uneasy. He wished there was a way to signal to Nathaniel, beg him not to invite this man along because he surely would –
‘’Actually, we’ve already disposed of the beast.’’
Newt blinked and looked at Nathaniel. Why was he lying?
‘’Oh,’’ Thorne said, looking disappointed. ‘’That’s too bad. Quick kills are never any fun.’’ The greedy look returned to his face. ‘’Did you take any trophies? The horns, maybe? Some of the fangs?’’
Nathaniel shook his head. ‘’Nah, my family has enough of that stuff lying around the house. I don’t see the need to add to it. We just burned the corpse, scattered the ashes.’’
Thorne clicked his tongue disapprovingly. ‘Such a waste, Nathaniel. I always thought you were strange, never taking trophies.’’
‘’I don’t need trophies to prove I’m good at my job, Thorne.’’ He eyed Thorne’s fang necklace with obvious distaste.
Newt noticed Thorne stiffen and a look of outrage passed swiftly over his face, quickly replaced by a look of forced casualness. ‘’Neither do I my friend, but you can’t deny I wear scales better than any dragon.’’ He bared his yellow teeth in a grin.
‘’That you do, Thorne. Well, if you’ll excuse us, it’s been a long day. I’’d like to get to bed.’’
‘’You and your friend wouldn’t care to have a drink first?’’
‘’We’ll pass tonight, thanks.’’
Thorne shrugged. ‘’Suit yourself.’’
Nathaniel and Newt walked passed Thorne and made their way up to their room. Nathaniel opened the door. It was a modest-sized room, with two twin-sized beds with brown wool blankets against the far wall, a small table with a lamp between them.
Nathaniel sat wearily on the bed, shucking off his coat. He bent over and began unlacing his boots. Newt stood beside the other bed, a bit uncertain. Then he asked, ‘’Why did you lie to him?’’
The dragonslayer looked up at him. ‘’What do you mean?’’
‘’You said the dragon was dead. I thought you’d be ready to accept his help. It would increase your chances of winning our wager.’’
Nathaniel’s face darkened. ‘’I’ve worked with Thorne before and let’s just say once was enough.’’
‘’What happened?’’
Nathaniel sighed. ‘’You really want to know?’’
Newt hesitated, then nodded.
‘’Thorne isn’t so much a dragonslayer as a dragon torturer. He enjoys making them suffer.’’
‘’And you don’t?’’ Newt blurted before he could stop himself.
Nathaniel gave him a very sour look. ‘No!’’ he said sharply. Newt flinched and looked down at the floor. Seeing this, Nathaniel’s voice softened. ‘No,’’ he said. ‘’I try to make my kills quick and humane. Thorne’s a sadist. He has no business being in this line of work. But people don’t care, do they? They don’t care what happens to them so long as they’re dead. They see them as-‘’
‘’Monsters,’’ Newt said quietly.
‘’Yes,’’ Nathaniel said. ‘’Yes they do.’’ He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked oddly vulnerable to Newt and he wondered if the swaggering arrogance Nathaniel had when Newt first met him was a type of performance. A mask he wore to keep people at a distance because he was well aware of the type of person other people expected him to be. A monster who killed other monsters. Whether this was true or not, Newt wasn’t sure. He just knew that Nathaniel kept defying his expectations.
‘’What happened exactly, when you were hunting with Thorne?’’
Nathaniel sighed. ‘’It kind of went how this is going, just ten times worse. One night, we were tracking it, we split up and Thorne got to it first. I heard the dragon’s screams and when I got there – he was skinning it. Skinning it alive.’’
Newt winced.
‘’I didn’t hesitate. I just killed it to put it out of its misery. Thorne told me afterward that he was only doing it because the hides looked so much better from a live dragon. Said that if you skinned them after they died, the scales went dull and the hides weren’t worth half as much. But I saw the look on his face. He was enjoying every second of it.’’
A heavy silence fell on the room after Nathaniel finished his story. Newt felt sick to his stomach.
‘I’m tired, Newt. Let’s go to bed.’’
Newt nodded and they both settled into their separate beds. He lay awake for a while, thinking about what Nathaniel had said. If he was horrified at the thought of someone torturing an innocent creature, just like Newt was, maybe it was possible he didn’t enjoy killing them either. Newt had just assumed that he must enjoy it if he did it for a living. All of the dragonslayers he had met before had all been arrogant braggarts. This Robert Thorne character was a textbook example. He remembered suddenly what Thorne had said downstairs. The Ministry actually contacted me first about this dragon around here. Newt shuddered. He had actually almost been forced to work with that sadist. He looked over at Nathaniel. The other man was lying on his side, his back to Newt. And to think just the other day, he had been wishing he had been working with someone else…anyone else. He could have ended up working with a man who tortured dragons for fun and covered himself in their skins – but instead he had been paired with a dragonslayer who never took trophies and had a secret love for unicorns.