Chapter Text
Newt's POV
Jacob and I were busy out on the streets of New York, searching for my lost beasts. We had just spotted my Niffler, scurrying along the cobbled streets. The little bugger really only had eyes for shiny things.
It was night. We walked down the street that was barley illuminated by the yellow glow of street lights. Then we each heard a terrible sound one never wishes to hear:
A whip crack followed by loud crying. It must've been those Second Salemers going after a wizard. Or, by the sound of the cry, it was a witch.
Jacob and I looked at each other knowingly. We had just silently decided to help.
"Follow me!" I whispered suddenly to Jacob.
We followed the terrible sounds of the cries and arrived at the Second Salemers' "church".
There, chained to a wooden post by her wrists, was a woman. And by the looks of the dirty rope that bound her hands, she'd been there awhile.
The woman who was beating her just so happened to be the same one I'd seen earlier today in the square on the steps of the bank. She was the one protesting about wizards.
I happened to be chasing after my Niffler into the bank at the time; that's where I met Jacob. This Salemer woman had stopped me, asking if I was "a seeker of the truth." I honestly didn't know what she had meant. Then again, sometimes muggles didn't make much sense anyway.
The Salemer lady lashing the woman tied to the post yelled some insults, spit on the her, then went inside.
I raced from the other side of the street where I'd been casually standing, my feet stumbling over the uneven road.
Pulling out my wand, I uttered an untying spell and the ropes loosened around the post, then her feet. The woman fell, exhausted, into a hunched over mass and I caught her.
Her back was bleeding from whip lashes. She was wearing little clothes and winter was just beginning so I took of my soft blue jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders to keep her warm.
She gazed up at me with these magnificent green eyes and mumbled a small, "Thank you, stranger," before passing out in my arms.
I picked her up and held her delicately. "Jacob, could you grab my case, please?" Without a word, and slightly aghast expression he did as I asked.
"We need to find a safe place to enter the case where no one will be at this time," I said quickly. "Do you happen to know of any?"
"There's Central Park," mused Jacob. "There shouldn't be anyone in there this late at night."
"Perfect," I decided. "Lead me there."
I followed Jacob while holding the limp woman into a park. She was so light and easy to carry, skinny from the lack of food. If anyone happened to see this, we'd get reported to police for sure.
Jacob found a bridge over a frozen pond. Stepping onto the ice cautiously, Jacob waddled out a few feet before going under the bridge.
"You can set her down here," Jacob said, referring to underneath the bridge crossing a frozen pond.
I set the woman down gently then Jacob did the same with my case.
Then, I opened my case and casually walked down inside it. Jacob let out a scream/laugh of alarm.
Once Jacob had recovered from the sight of magic, he and I slowly worked to lower the girl inside.
I shoved a stack of papers from the table and laid her down gently. Grabbing a bunch of herbs and potions, I went to work.
Jacob still hadn't joined me down in the case. I reached my hand out and beckoned for him to come down. His feet appeared above me in the case but it seemed he was stuck at the waistline. Jacob tried to squeeze himself through, the case bouncing up and down as he tried.
"For the love of . . ." I heard him mumble. With one final frustrated jump, Jacob fell down into the case, nearly taking me out with him.
I ran over to the woman's side. Her back was covered in lash marks, though there were two curious stubs protruding from her shoulder blades that I discovered once I'd wiped away the majority of the blood. These stubs seemed to be the cause of most of the bleeding. I decided to inquire her later when she woke up. And I prayed to Merlin that she would wake up soon.
I bound her back in bandages which needed changing almost a half an hour later. I tried a few spells, none of which decided to heal her completely. Finally, I had to resort to the muggle way of healing: stitches. I knew how to patch a coat, but I had never performed stitches on a human before, only on the Erumpant once. That one was a real pain in the neck of a job, but it had to be done. How different could a human be?
~~~
I didn't exactly fail the stitches. They worked and held, just weren't a pretty sight. Jacob nearly passed out as soon as I brought out a needle.
I performed a few spells to clean my bloodstained self and jacket 'til they were good as new. If only people were that easy to heal.
Jacob and I sat quietly. The woman tossed and turned a few times on the cot, but didn't wake up. I sat organizing some of my documents while rambling off facts about different beasts to Jacob while we waited.
Suddenly the woman screamed. I shot up out of my chair. Jacob jumped so far up he hit his head on some hanging flower pots.
"Shhh, please. Calm down, calm down," I said quickly. I held my hands out calmly and offered a smile.
She looked up at me with her magnificent eyes again. Her breathing slowed. She laid back down, exhausted. I looked down at her as she tried to prop herself up, but failed to do so. She was weak and tired.
I pulled out a towel I had folded up and put it beneath her head.
"Better?" I asked. She nodded.
"Y-you saved me," she said quietly. "You both did," she said addressing Jacob. His face grew pink. "How-Why . . . ?"
She had an English accent, like me. Definitely not from New York.
"I couldn't just leave another wizard out there," I said honestly. "You are a witch, right?"
"Yes," she said quietly.
"You see, Jacob here is a muggle," I said. Jacob waved from his chair behind me. "My name is Newt Scamander," I said, holding out my hand.
"Jeanne," she said taking my hand.
"Well, Jeanne," I started. "It's a pleasure to meet you," I said with a smile. Her expression told me she was still unsure what my intentions were. Suddenly, I heard squeaking coming from my jacket pocket.
"Now, Pickett," I started, reaching my hand into my jacket pocket. "It's not polite to interrupt a conversation." Jeanne starred at me as I pulled my little bowtruckle from my pocket.
"Jeanne this is Pickett," I said. "Pickett, Jeanne."
"Hello," Jeanne said, holding out her hand. She now was beginning to sit up, her strength returning.
Pickett crawled from my hands into her outstretched ones. "Huh," I said. "That's a first."
"What is?" she asked.
"Pickett has some severe attachment issues. He's normally afraid of others," I said. "This is a big step for him. Maybe I'll finally get him to live with the other bowtruckles."
Jeanne smiled down at the tiny creature in her hand. She had a soft smile on her face that I couldn't help but admire.
Jacob had now gotten up and strode over to us. Pickett ran for cover back to my jacket pocket. "Oh, don't be like that now, Pickett." I said. "It's only Jacob."
"Ah it's fine, Newt," he chuckled.
"Now, shall I introduce you to the others?" I asked.