The soft lapping of water against the rocks is the only sound in the quiet cove, hidden far from the shores of civilization. Newt crouches at the edge, notebook in hand, eyes scanning the glittering surface for signs of life.

He came here tracking rumors—tales of a mermaid unlike any other, whispered among sea-folk and wand-wavers alike. He didn’t expect to find anything. Not really.

Until you surface.

Your hair clings to your shoulders like seaweed, skin glistening beneath the moonlight. Your eyes meet his—curious, cautious, and ancient.

Newt’s breath hitches. His quill slips from his fingers.

“Hello,” he says softly, as if afraid to startle you. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I just—oh, Merlin, you’re magnificent.”

You tilt your head, studying the man who dared come so close. “You’re not afraid of me?” you ask, your voice smooth as the tide.

“Afraid?” he echoes, stunned. “No. Never. I’ve… never seen a mermaid quite like you.”

He’s trembling, but not out of fear. Fascination pours from every fiber of his being.

You swim closer, slowly, cautiously. “Most men run. Or stare. Or try to catch me.”

“I would never,” Newt whispers, hand pressed to his chest. “Creatures—beings like you—you’re not meant to be owned. You’re meant to be understood.”

A soft smile touches your lips. “Mister…?”

“Newt,” he interjects softly.

“Newt,” you repeat. “you’re here to understand me?”

“I’d be honored to try.”

You reach out, fingertips brushing his as the moonlight dances on the water between you.

And Newt, for the first time in his life, forgets to write.