Newt opened the door to find a middle-aged man with a bushy beard, dressed in the style of a Muggle detective.
"Long time no see, Mr. Scamander."
The man, Henry Smith, tipped his hat in a brief greeting.
"You are… oh, an Auror from the Ministry of Magic!"
Newt's memory wasn't what it used to be; if the Ministry hadn't been scraping the bottom of the barrel for Aurors, he doubted he would have recognized the man at all.
Realizing the man wished to speak with him, Newt invited Henry inside.
...
"My name is Henry Smith, a veteran Auror with ten years of service at the Ministry of Magic. Recently, my colleagues and I apprehended a smuggling ring dealing in magical creatures, and we intercepted a number of beasts. Most were fine, but one sub-adult Zouwu has become particularly ferocious due to prolonged abuse."
Henry explained, "The Ministry has consulted many experts, but none have been able to calm it. I remembered my contact with you, Mr. Scamander, from a few years ago and suggested seeking your assistance. I was given permission and set off for the address the Ministry provided. But on the way, I received a call informing me that some of the smugglers were still at large."
He sighed heavily. "It's always something, isn't it? I thought things couldn't get any worse."
Henry paused, drew a deep breath, and looked up, fixing his gaze on Tom Riddle, the handsome young man lounging on the sofa.
What is going on here?
Henry glanced at Newt Scamander, who calmly sipped his tea. The thought thundered in his mind: Has Newt Scamander become a Death Eater?!
He felt dread coiling in his stomach, but forcing himself to remain calm, he continued to sip his tea, hoping not to betray any sign of his shock.
"Why are your hands shaking so much?"
Tom's sudden question startled Henry, causing him to spill a bit of tea.
He looked up and saw Tom smiling faintly.
"…Ah… this… Parkinson's… yes! I have Parkinson's, and my hands shake uncontrollably!"
Inspiration struck him from the depths of his panic, and he blurted out the name of a Muggle disease he'd once read about in a newspaper.
Tom nodded slowly. "Oh, I see."
"…"
He doesn't believe me at all!
Henry privately lamented his poor acting skills.
"Tell me, what brings you here?"
Tom inquired, setting his teacup back on the table.
Tom's question was hardly unexpected, and Henry knew his purpose wasn't a secret.
He decided to simply tell the truth as he knew it.
Upon hearing Henry's words, Newt, ever the champion of magical creatures, immediately offered to accompany Henry to calm the Zouwu.
Only moments ago, Henry would have been elated, but now… how was Newt Scamander going to prove he wasn't a Death Eater?
"I almost wish he was a Death Eater; I can never have too much talent."
Tom's comment sent a shiver down Henry's spine, and his clothes suddenly felt damp with cold sweat.
Legitimacy?! But I'm not…
"Don't even think about it. Your Occlumency skills are practically useless to me."
Tom's tone was utterly devoid of pride, as if stating a simple fact.
Newt, standing beside him, was annoyed at being misunderstood.
Realizing he had no alternative, Henry resigned himself.
"Then please, come with me."
...
They arrived at an abandoned factory on the outskirts of Florida.
A group of Aurors regarded their old colleague with a mix of strange expressions.
"You big-eyed, thick-browed Henry, you actually brought the Dark Lord here! Are you trying to get us all killed?!"
The Aurors, men and women, young and old, eyed Tom warily, then glared at Henry.
Henry suddenly understood Newt's earlier predicament.
"Let me explain…"
"Listen to you? We'd rather die than surrender!"
As the Aurors retreated, their voices echoing their outrage, Tom calmly drew the Elder Wand from his pocket.
"Then you can die fighting."
"Ahem… actually, I think talking is possible."
"Yeah, yeah, let's talk, then."
Seeing the ominous green glow at the tip of the Elder Wand, the Aurors' demeanor shifted dramatically.
"But what if I don't want to talk anymore?"
Tom shrugged, a smile playing on his lips.
"tonic!"
"We're reasonable!"
"…"
Tom was about to say more when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
He turned to see Newt shaking his head, his expression complicated.
"Hey, you old rascal, trying to stop me…"
"Zouwu."
"Then I'll reluctantly listen to what they have to say."
"…"
Newt understood: Tom had become increasingly animated ever since Henry mentioned the Zouwu. He definitely had his sights set on it.
So, under the watchful scrutiny of Tom and Newt, Henry gave his colleagues a lengthy explanation, which they all readily accepted.
After a considerable time, Henry finally finished and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Alright, where is this Zouwu?"
At Tom's question, a female Auror stepped forward to lead them.
The group followed her to a room in the depths of the factory.
"It's inside, but be careful, it's dangerous!"
The female Auror warned.
"What? Can it even kill anyone?"
Tom scoffed. "Dangerous? It'll be dangerous if it doesn't agree to be my cat!"
"…"
The female Auror found herself speechless.
Indeed, she thought, compared to the others, the most dangerous creature of all had already arrived: the Dark Lord himself.
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