Tina had only just left the room when Newt sprang up from his bed, opened his weathered suitcase, and stepped inside with practiced ease.
"Ha!" Jacob yelped in shock.
"Come on," Aiden said with a knowing smile. He knew exactly what Newt wanted to do, so he yanked Jacob off the bed, stuffed the bewildered No-Maj through the suitcase door, and then climbed in after him.
The case bounced once, snapped shut, and locked itself with an audible click.
Inside, Jacob found they were standing beside a cozy wooden cabin that looked like a well-equipped workshop. Various tools hung from the walls, and glass vials filled with mysterious substances lined the shelves.
Newt was already busy picking herbs and grinding them into a healing salve with practiced efficiency.
"Murtlap got you, did it? Their bites are very sensitive," he said, smearing the green paste onto Jacob's wounds with gentle care. He dipped a tin mug of water from a wooden barrel and handed Jacob several small tablets. "Take these, and they'll stop the sweating."
"And you, Mr. Prewett," Newt turned to Aiden with curious eyes. "What exactly is your story, and what do you plan to do next?"
"I'm from the future, stranded in a foreign country with no friends. I need you to take me back to Britain so I can find Dumbledore," Aiden explained matter-of-factly.
"Can't get back by yourself? You're obviously a very capable spellcaster," Newt pressed with genuine interest.
"All right, mostly I think it'll be fun to stay with you. And surely you could use a powerful wizard for an assistant?" Aiden blinked innocently, his heterochromatic eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Hmm. You can stay on one condition," Newt looked him straight in the eye, speaking each word clearly. "You cause no mischief, and you never harm my creatures."
He took a cleaver, chopped a slab of pork into chunks, and tipped them into a metal bucket. "Here." He thrust the bucket at Jacob with a meaningful look.
"Oh, so you're a little wizard, huh?" Jacob said to Aiden as he hefted the bucket of meat.
"Mr. Kowalski, no need to envy us. No-Majs have their own kind of magic. You've achieved things with your own hands that many wizards never could," Aiden said, seeing straight through Jacob's thoughts and offering genuine praise.
"You can read my mind as well? Can every wizard do that?" Jacob asked, both intrigued and slightly unnerved.
"Very few can. But with systematic study, any wizard can learn something similar," Aiden answered patiently.
"Keep up and no chatting," Newt interrupted, having just finished milking venom from a writhing Swooping Evil.
"What's that thing?" Jacob asked, staring at the dark creature.
"Locals call it a Swooping Evil, which is rather unfriendly terminology. I'm researching it because, used properly, the venom can erase bad memories," Newt explained, twirling the creature like a yo-yo.
"Isn't that classified as XXXXX?" Aiden asked with raised eyebrows.
"What's XXXXX?" Jacob looked around nervously.
"Anything that has killed wizards or can easily kill a wizard," Aiden said with dark emphasis.
"There you go again, treating every creature as an enemy. That's exactly why so many species disappear. If we would just stop invading their habitats, they wouldn't hurt us," Newt retorted with passion.
"But people are greedy by nature. We swallow lightning and fire, burn plains, mine coal, pump oil, and even covet the sun itself. It's a life-and-death struggle between progress and preservation. All we can do is slow things down and save what we can. We can't stop humanity's relentless advance," Aiden said, his eyes lowered with the weight of future knowledge.
"I don't accept that defeatist attitude. I'll slow them down and win some space for other beings," Newt's eyes shone with unwavering confidence.
"Then I wish you success, Master Scamander," Aiden said, bowing slightly with genuine respect.
"What are you two on about? I can't follow a word of this," Jacob muttered in confusion.
"Never mind," Aiden and Newt laughed together, their moment of philosophical disagreement passing.
Outside the workshop, a magnificent Thunderbird appeared amid crackling wind and lightning, its massive wings casting shadows across the enclosure.
"Frank! Thank goodness you didn't escape," Newt said with relief, rubbing noses affectionately with the majestic bird.
"That's why I came to America in the first place. To take Frank home where he belongs," he told the other two.
"I thought it was because Dumbledor…" Aiden's mouth was suddenly clapped shut by Newt's quick hand.
"Dumbledore?" Jacob stared, thoroughly baffled by yet another mysterious reference.
"Aiden, you and Frank play here. I'll take Mr. Kowalski to feed the others," Newt said, his look plainly saying: one more word and the Thunderbird will gag you too.
Aiden shook his head with amusement, sprang forward, and transformed into a gleaming silver dragon. He and Frank began playing an aerial game of tag through the artificial sky.
"Wow, a dragon? Wizards turn into dragons now? Were those storybook princes rescuing princesses actually you lot?" Jacob joked but got no reply. Newt was staring in complete fascination at the shining dragon.
"So that's not... common?" Jacob ventured cautiously.
"Merlin's beard... someone actually did it," Newt whispered in amazement.
"Did what?" Jacob felt like the man with ten thousand questions.
"I'll explain later. Come on," Newt said, forcing down his curiosity. His other creatures were hungry and needed attention. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he called across the plain.
"They're coming," he announced. Dust rose in the distance as two enormous Graphorns thundered over with their two precious calves.
"Aaah!" Jacob tried to back away, but Newt held him steady.
"Don't be afraid. They're the last breeding pair on Earth. If we don't protect them, in a few years they'll be gone forever."
Newt tossed chunks of meat, and the calf bounded after them playfully.
"So your job is protecting these beasts," Jacob observed, lobbing more meat with growing confidence.
Newt led him through a limestone tunnel and out into a lush forest where tiny Bowtruckles lined the branches like living ornaments.
"Bowtruckles," Newt explained fondly. "Back you go, Pickett." He tried to set the one in his hand onto a twig, but it stubbornly refused to leave his pocket.
Snap, snap. Jacob turned to see the silver-haired boy feeding insects to a basket full of winged serpents nestled among bamboo stalks.
"Hey, I thought you were off playing dragon with that Thunderbird," Jacob said with growing familiarity.
"Thunderbirds get bored quickly, and we dragons don't mix well with giant birds," Aiden sighed with mock disappointment.
"I've seen these before. What are they?" Jacob watched Aiden feed the creatures with practiced care.
"Occamies. They're bird-snakes that grow or shrink to fit their available space. Those feathered serpents the ancient Americans worshipped were probably Occamies."
One Occamy wrapped around Aiden's arm possessively, refusing to let go. Newt reluctantly pried it off with gentle firmness.
"I know I'm not dreaming," Jacob said with wonder.
"Why's that?" Aiden raised an eyebrow curiously.
"Because I'm not smart enough to dream all this up," Jacob marveled at the incredible menagerie surrounding them.
"Mr. Kowalski, if you don't mind, would you feed those Mooncalves these pellets? And Aiden," Newt's voice dropped to a quieter tone, "patch the snow biome and check the Obscurus enclosure."
Aiden nodded seriously and headed toward the snowy landscape, understanding the gravity of that particular task.