The library was quiet, save for the soft rustle of parchment and the faint sound of quills scratching against scrolls. You wandered between the tall, dusty bookshelves, your school robes billowing slightly as you searched for the Hufflepuff you had begrudgingly grown accustomed to working with.

Newt sat hunched at a table near the back, his unruly hair casting a shadow over his concentrated face as he scribbled notes. Beside him sat Pickett, the bowtruckle assigned to the two of you for the Care of Magical Creatures project. The small creature was perched on the edge of Newt’s open book, holding a tiny piece of a leaf in its twiggy fingers and peering curiously at the diagrams of magical plants on the page.

You approached, and Newt’s eyes flickered up, surprise momentarily lighting his face before it settled back into shyness.

Newt straightened up slightly, brushing his hands on his robes. “I, uh, thought I’d get a head start. Pickett seemed eager to…help.” He gestured to the bowtruckle, who chittered softly in agreement.