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The next day brought unexpectedly perfect weather. Though the grass still glistened with remnants of yesterday's storm, the sun blazed down, eager to dry everything in its warm embrace.

After their class ended, Davina set off to find Newt for their little trip, with Lizzie trailing behind her at a slower pace.

"Vina?" Lizzie called, trying to get her friend's attention. Davina didn't seem to hear a word Lizzie said. The brunette stopped suddenly, causing Lizzie to crash into her back with a thud.

"Merlin's beard! Have you listened to anything I just said?" Lizzie asked, her tone full of annoyance. Davina flushed in embarrassment and, after a brief pause, answered truthfully.

"Uh... sorry, not really," she admitted.

Lizzie sighed heavily, glancing down the hallway. At the far end, Newt Scamander sat alone on a bench, engrossed in a book. Scattered papers, filled with what appeared to be notes for his work, surrounded him.

"You seem to spend a lot of time with him lately," Lizzie remarked, her eyes fixed on Newt.

Davina's attention was momentarily diverted as Newt fumbled with a pen that had fallen from his hand, causing a small pile of papers to scatter to the ground. Lizzie stifled a snort, trying her best not to laugh at his clumsiness.

"If you saw him the way I do, you'd understand. He's got a beautiful soul. People just don't get him," Davina said, her tone soft and earnest.

Lizzie shot her a sideways glance. "He's just so quiet and awkward all the time. Not to mention his obsession with those creatures," she pointed out.

The two girls stopped walking, standing in the middle of the hallway as they continued their conversation. Newt, oblivious, was still deep in his own world.

"He's not awkward—just shy and worried about saying something wrong. And there's nothing wrong with being passionate about something," Davina defended him.

At that moment, a group of Slytherins approached Newt, pointing and muttering under their breath. Leading the group was none other than Lucian Nightshare—a notorious, arrogant jerk who only cared about himself. Anyone who wasn't in his good graces was usually on the receiving end of his nastiness.

Davina winced as Lizzie suddenly nudged her in the ribs.

"Ouch! Why'd you do that?" she asked, rubbing her side. Lizzie's finger was already pointing at the scene in front of them.

"We should definitely listen in," Lizzie said eagerly, pulling Davina toward a corner, where they could hide and watch what was about to unfold.

"You know, it's not very kind to eavesdrop—" Davina began, but her words were muffled as Lizzie quickly covered her mouth with her hand.

"Simply listen," Liz murmured, placing a finger on her lips, signaling her friend to remain silent and savor the performance.

"They will blame him as they always do," Davina whispered to herself gloomily until the Nightshare boy began to speak.

"Newton Scamander." "Do you have a new book on those hippo creatures?" Lucian inquired teasingly, while his friends chuckled lightly at his remark.

Newt glanced up from his book, a hint of panic in his eyes as he looked at Nightshare and his companions. "I—I believe this isn't your concern, Nightshare, and they are referred to as Hippogriffs," Newt attempted to defend himself, although his anxiety was clearly visible to everyone.

"You know, I'm not really concerned about what you call your foolish beings." "I just worry that you're a little too close with Dumbledore," Nightshare remarked, casting a fierce glare at Newt.

Newt merely attempted to avoid his gaze and refrain from responding to his inquiries to prevent escalating the situation.

Lizzie glanced at Davina with brows slightly arched, as the brunette merely shrugged, not wishing to associate with the Slytherin boy.

Lucian approached Newt, allowing his notes to drop to the ground as he did so.

"What makes you so unique that you have her near you, hmm?" he inquired derisively.

The Dumbledore girl concluded she had listened long enough and turned the corner in a flash, her blonde friend attempting to grab her arm to prevent her from acting foolishly.

"Vina, what are you up to?" she whispered but chose to trail her friend into the open corridor.

Newt noticed the brown-haired girl first and offered her a subtle smile, but Davina's gaze was fixed on Lucian.

"Do you realize what makes him so unique, Nightshare?" The articulate boy lifted an eyebrow at the small beauty.

"He's not self-centered...," Davina moved a step nearer to Lucian, her chin held high. "Self-centered fool like you," she hissed the final words.

Nightshare's followers chuckled at their friend, who appeared speechless. After a moment, he opted to voice his thoughts. "You're fortunate that she arrived to rescue you." "Next time, you won't have such good fortune," he warned before signaling for his friends to trail behind him.

Davina knelt on the ground, gathering Newt's notes and arranging them into a neat stack. With a smile, she returned them to the silent boy.

Newt locked eyes with her and summoned the bravery to say something. "Th-Thanks, Davina," he stammered, feeling somewhat awkward about the entire scenario.

"You're welcome." Don't allow them to trouble you, Newt. "They have no idea what they're talking about," she said supportively.

Lizzie, who observed the entire situation uncomfortably, opted to let the two friends be. "Alright, I'm heading to see Ophelia and Julien now." "We'll meet in the evening," she remarked, glancing at Davina, who responded with a thumbs up.

"See you, Scamander," Liz murmured as she strolled off to join her friends at a corner.

The young Dumbledore spun around, gazing at Newt eagerly, seemingly thrilled to be leaving school at last.

"Are you ready?" she inquired, assisting him in collecting his belongings.

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"Come on! Keep up, Newt!" Davina called back, her voice full of energy as she jogged through the tall grass, flowers brushing against her legs. Newt trailed behind, unable to hide the smile spreading across his face as he watched her leap through the field with excitement.

"I-I'm trying!" he called out, barely managing to keep pace. Davina slowed just enough to reach back, grabbing his hand and pulling him along with her. In the distance, an old tree stood on a hill, its trunk thick and weathered, its crown of green leaves creating a dense canopy that let only the faintest rays of sunlight through.

The tree was a special place for the two of them—a sanctuary of peace and quiet. They had come here countless times, and it never failed to bring them a sense of calm.

As they reached the base of the tree, they collapsed onto the soft grass. Davina leaned back against the sturdy trunk, while Newt settled across from her. They could hear nothing but the rustling of the leaves and the distant chirp of birds. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the field, but for them, time seemed to stand still.

They talked about everything and nothing—philosophy, life, and dreams—losing track of the hours, as they always did when they were together.

Then, without warning, Davina flinched. She pulled her hand up quickly, a pained expression crossing her face. Newt immediately noticed.

"Ouch," she muttered, staring at her palm. Blood trickled from a small cut.

Newt frowned in concern, taking her hand gently in his. "What happened?" he asked, his brow furrowed as he scanned the grass around them, trying to figure out what caused the injury.

"I'm not sure," she said, confused. "It felt like a tiny pinch. Maybe a bug or something."

Before Newt could respond, Davina felt another sharp tweak on her arm. This time, she jerked her arm away, glancing around in search of the source. Her eyes widened when she saw it—a tiny, green creature clinging to her sweater. Its small, clawed arms were wrapped around the fabric as it stared up at her with wide, frantic eyes, seemingly desperate to reach the ground.

"Whoa," Newt whispered in awe, leaning closer to get a better look at the little creature clinging to Davina's arm.

Davina, still captivated, stared at the small creature, feeling a mix of fascination and wonder. "I guess we have company," she said, her voice filled with both surprise and curiosity as she turned her attention fully to their unexpected guest.

"This is a Bowtruckle, Davina," Newt explained, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "They're fascinating creatures, known for being incredibly protective of their homes. They're also very shy—it's nearly impossible to get a glimpse of one."

Davina looked down at the small creature still clinging to her sweater, unsure of how to proceed. "So, you're just protecting your home, huh, buddy?" she asked softly, her voice filled with curiosity. She slowly lowered her arm, careful not to frighten the Bowtruckle.

"There you go," she murmured as the creature, sensing her gentleness, slowly untangled itself from her sweatshirt. It perched on her palm, its tiny eyes fixed on the cut on her hand, which was still oozing a small amount of blood.

Davina watched as the Bowtruckle cautiously climbed up her hand, its delicate fingers brushing over the small wound as if inspecting the damage it had caused. It almost looked... apologetic, in its own way.

"He seems to like you," Newt said quietly, still captivated by the little creature. "That's rare."

Davina chuckled softly. "Well, he certainly has an odd way of showing it."

The Bowtruckle, seemingly satisfied, crawled back down her arm and disappeared into the tall grass. But as it vanished, Davina's gaze shifted toward the horizon. The sun was sinking lower, casting an orange glow across the field. Curfew would be starting soon, and she knew her father wouldn't be thrilled to find her out past the deadline again.

She stood up, careful not to disturb their tiny friend. Turning toward Newt, she extended her hand to help him up. "We should get going. It'll be dark in about an hour, and I really don't need any more trouble with my father."

Newt nodded and took her hand, using it to pull himself up. As they began to walk away, Davina turned back one last time, waving at their little companion.

"Goodbye, little stick," she called, a playful smile on her face.

At the sound of "stick," the Bowtruckle stuck out its tiny tongue in a childish gesture, almost as if it was teasing her. Newt couldn't help but laugh at the adorable display.

"Guess he's got a bit of personality after all," he said with a grin.

Davina nodded, her heart lightened by the encounter. "Definitely."

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𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: the second chapter is done and I have to say I really loved the interaction between Davina and the bowtuckle.

Larah :)