Harry Potter's : Fantastic Beasts Guide

David squinted at Newt, puzzled. "What made the birds appear here?" he asked.

Newt crouched low, inspecting the forest floor. "Exactly," he replied, his voice laced with curiosity. "Bo birds don't belong in Dorset. Something unusual must've drawn them here. And these birds usually move in flocks, but only three have been spotted in this area."

David nodded, still unsure but trying to follow Newt's train of thought. Before he could ask more questions, Newt suddenly beckoned him. "Come on, David. Keep up!" Without waiting, Newt pushed forward, moving into a dense thicket of bushes.

David trudged behind, the forest seeming to grow more tangled and foreboding with each step. Branches clawed at his clothes, and the wet underbrush soaked his shoes. The further they went, the darker and more humid it became. The sunlight that had managed to pierce through earlier was now completely blocked by thick layers of leaves. It felt like a damp, cold sauna.

Newt, oblivious to David's struggle, pushed aside a cluster of branches and stepped through. The branches snapped back with force, smacking David squarely in the face.

"Ouch!" David cried, crouching and clutching his stinging cheek. He grimaced, knowing a bright red welt had likely formed. Grandpa owes me for this one, he thought, vowing to show the mark to his grandma later for sympathy. He scooped up some cold snowmelt from nearby leaves, applying it to the burn to ease the pain.

By the time he caught up with Newt, the older man was already crouched on all fours, nose to the ground, sniffing intently. David, used to such odd behavior from his grandfather, stood quietly nearby. He knew better than to interrupt when Newt was in "detective mode."

Newt got up after a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. Without saying a word, he dipped a finger into the dirt, tasted it, and closed his eyes as if deciphering some mysterious code. David couldn't help but marvel at Newt's unique gift: an uncanny ability to discern the presence of magical creatures through their faintest traces.

After a few seconds, Newt silently motioned for David to follow. They walked cautiously for another 100 meters. Suddenly, David spotted something under the roots of a large, arched tree. The dim light made it hard to see, but he could make out a shape.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he took a step closer to get a better view. Before he could move further, Newt grabbed his arm and shook his head firmly, silently warning him that whatever it was could be dangerous. Newt then guided David to a safer spot behind a large rock. Using hand signals, he instructed him to stay put and not move under any circumstances.

David nodded obediently, knowing better than to disobey. His previous experiences with Newt had taught him the importance of following orders in potentially dangerous situations.

With David secured, Newt pulled a small vial of transparent liquid from his bag. He uncorked it and spun around, sprinkling the contents lightly over himself. Once done, he stashed the bottle away and crept toward the shadowy figure under the tree.

David watched with bated breath as Newt approached the creature. As Newt drew closer, the figure rose to its feet. Even from a distance, David could tell it resembled a lion, but something was different—its mane was longer and its tail unusually thick.

David's heart pounded in his chest. The creature locked eyes with Newt, tense and wary. Please don't let this be one of those times Grandpa gets hurt, he thought nervously, remembering how often Newt ended up as a patient at St. Mungo's due to his daring encounters with magical beasts.

Newt crouched low to the ground, propping himself on his hands, and let out a peculiar sound. It was a mix between a lion's roar and a sheep's bleat—a noise David had never heard before.

The creature tilted its head, slightly less tense now, and began sniffing the air. Taking this as a good sign, Newt slowly inched closer, maintaining his submissive posture. The creature sniffed Newt carefully, circling him a few times, its massive head brushing dangerously close to Newt's neck. David clenched his fists, sweat pooling in his palms, terrified that one wrong move could result in disaster.

But Newt remained calm, his years of experience guiding him. After what felt like an eternity, the creature finally retreated back to the base of the tree, settling down again.

Newt exhaled softly, his shoulders relaxing as the immediate danger passed. He waved toward David. "Bring the magic carpet," he called out, his voice calm but firm.

David hurried to comply, summoning the carpet and directing it toward Newt. He stayed at a safe distance, his eyes fixed on the creature, which now seemed weakened and injured. As the carpet hovered closer, Newt carefully loaded the creature onto it, his movements gentle and deliberate.

When Newt finally returned to David, he was dusting off his clothes, though his efforts only seemed to spread the dirt around. Realizing this, he flicked his wand, and his attire instantly cleaned itself.

David's eyes widened as he got a better look at the creature now resting on the carpet. "What... is that?" he asked, his voice filled with awe and disbelief.

Newt gave a small, proud smile. "A Graphorn," he replied. "And a young one at that. But we need to hurry. It's hurt, and we've got work to do to help it."

David stared at the creature in wonder, feeling both excitement and dread for what the rest of the day would hold. With Newt, he knew one thing for sure—this was just the beginning.