Newt, drained of energy, rested, while Wayne remained lively and proposed going out alone for a stroll.
Had it been any other young wizard, Newt would never have allowed them to wander off. But having witnessed Wayne's capabilities over the past few days—along with his mature mindset—he was confident no trouble would arise.
After just a few words of caution, Newt let him go.
Located in the southwest, Arizona's weather was far more pleasant than that of New York. There was no snowfall, and temperatures stayed above freezing.
The town had only one street, appearing shabbier and wilder compared to Diagon Alley, yet it was no less lively.
Britain's population stood at over sixty million, while the U.S. boasted more than five times that number, likely reflecting a similar ratio among wizards.
The only pity was the lack of deep-rooted heritage, with no notable pure-blood families to speak of. Even those that existed were mere branches of lineages originally from Europe.
What nobility could one expect from a former penal colony?
Wayne strolled down the street, popping into every shop to soak in the distinct American atmosphere.
Perhaps due to its proximity to the Thunderbird reserve, many stores sold Thunderbird-related merchandise—various materials, ornaments, and miniature models.
Most of the materials, however, were fake.
If protected animal parts could be sold so openly, there'd be little point in protection efforts.
Wayne did pick up a few Native American-inspired trinkets as souvenirs.
Seeing a young wizard spending so lavishly, a group of shady figures exchanged glances in the mixed crowd and quietly tailed him.
When Wayne turned into a dead-end alley, the three wizards were overjoyed and hurried after him.
But upon entering the narrow lane, they found Wayne waiting with an amused smirk.
Before they could utter a word, Wayne struck first.
"Silencio!"
Deep, eerie arcs of light flickered in his dark eyes as all three pursuers fell victim, their faces contorted in horror.
"Muffliato! Duro!"
A Silencing Charm and a Hardening Spell followed in quick succession. Before they knew it, the fight was already over.
Wayne released Jerry and emptied all the Galleons from its pouch. "Go on, find anything valuable."
Jerry, initially quite displeased at having all its Galleons taken, immediately perked up at the command and scurried off on its short little legs to rummage through the three wizards.
Nifflers loved treasure, and they equally adored the thrill of the hunt.
By Wayne's side, it was always stuffed full, with no opportunity to search for treasures—even if it found something, there was no room to carry it.
Today, it finally had a chance to stretch its legs.
The little creature expertly retrieved gems, Galleons, and Sickles from various hidden nooks, much to Wayne's satisfaction.
This was practically automatic loot collection.
In the future, he'd take down the enemies, and Jerry would loot the bodies—a perfect partnership.
Wayne glanced over the three paupers and found nothing particularly valuable, so he let Jerry keep everything.
Only after stuffing all the interesting items into its belly did Jerry finally clamber contentedly onto Wayne's shoulder.
"Squeak!"
"You want me to give those Galleons back to you?"
"Squeak!"
"Too much hassle. Just crawl into the pouch and take as many as you can fit."
The young boy tossed Jerry into the specially designated dragon-hide pouch for Galleons.
At the sight of the small mountain of gold coins, the Niffler let out a delighted shriek and fainted from sheer bliss.
...
The three little tails did nothing to dampen Wayne's enthusiasm for shopping.
It wasn't until two hours later, when he figured Newt should be awake, that he returned to the pub.
"Did you run into any trouble?" Newt asked as soon as he saw him return.
As it turned out, Newt still didn't know Wayne very well. Usually, Wayne was the trouble.
Not mentioning the tail, Wayne pulled out a few small models to show Newt.
"Do you think any of those Thunderbird materials are real?"
Newt shook his head. "Even if there are, they'd only be on the black market. Selling Thunderbird materials openly is illegal."
"If you need some, you can collect them yourself later—just don't go selling them."
Wayne nodded in understanding. He wasn't short on money, so he certainly wouldn't sell them.
As night fell, Newt checked the time—it was nearly eight. He then grabbed Wayne's shoulder and Apparated.
In an instant, the two found themselves atop a cliff, where two others were already waiting. They approached as soon as the pair appeared.
"Mr Scamander, you've finally arrived. Is this your grandson?" one of the middle-aged men asked, looking at Wayne.
"No, Lafferty. Wayne is a junior of mine, visiting from Britain. I brought him to see the Thunderbird."
Newt clearly knew both of them well, as his social anxiety didn't flare up.
He introduced them to Wayne: "Lafferty Worley, Deputy Headmaster of Ilvermorny School and also Head of the Thunderbird House—an expert on Thunderbirds."
Lafferty hastily waved his hands modestly. "No one would dare call themselves an expert on magical creatures in your presence. I've just done a bit more research, that's all."
Newt gave an embarrassed chuckle.
Wayne greeted him, noting the surname 'Worley' with some interest, but didn't press further.
Then, Newt introduced the other man—a wizard who had remained silent since their arrival.
He was much burlier than Lafferty and stood a full head taller, easily reaching six feet three.
"This is Lester Gordon, a former Auror and now the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Ilvermorny."
The burly man nodded at the two of them, and Lafferty smiled as he explained for his companion: "Don't mind him, Lester's never been much of a talker. He's caught a cold recently, so his throat's bothering him."
Newt nodded in understanding before continuing, "Have the others arrived yet?"
"Should be soon. It's almost eight o'clock," Lafferty checked his watch and said to Newt, "Let's wait a bit longer."
Over the next few minutes, several more witches and wizards Disapparated into view. Most were either Newt's friends or Aurors from the Ministry of Magic.
The Thunderbird's egg-laying was a significant event for the Ministry, and the Aurors were present to prevent interference from poachers or Scourers.
Scourers were a uniquely American faction, the sworn enemies of all witches and wizards as well as the Magical Congress.
Originally mercenary wizards from various countries, they had come to this continent during its formative years to wreak havoc.
For the right bounty, they would hunt down and kill without hesitation, be it Muggles or wizards.
It wasn't until 1693, when the Magical Congress was established, that organised counterattacks against the Scourers began, ultimately leading to victory.
But this didn't mean the Scourers vanished entirely. Many chose to evade pursuit by intermarrying with Muggles. Their descendants often inherited magical abilities while being indoctrinated with the belief that all wizards were evil.
The conflict between the two sides persists to this day.
During this time, the Congress enacted Rappaport's Law, prohibiting wizards from interacting with No-Majs (the American term for Muggles), largely due to the Scourers' influence.
Pop!
Another Disapparition crack sounded, and Wayne turned towards the noise.
A towering witch strode into view—so tall she even dwarfed Hagrid.
But unlike Hagrid, this witch had delicate, refined features, her short hair lending her a dignified air.
Adorned in exquisite garments and jewellery, she carried an unmistakable aura of nobility.
"Welcome, Olympe. We're glad you could make it," Lafferty stepped forward and embraced the witch.
At six feet tall, he barely reached her waist, creating a rather comical sight.
Newt also moved to greet her.
The witch spoke with graceful poise. "A pleasure to see you, Mr Scamander. Mr Flamel sends his regards."
"Thank you for your kindness. How has Nicolas been? I've sent him several potions for osteoporosis."
"Quite well. He and Perenelle are enjoying their Christmas holiday in Barcelona."
After this exchange, Newt introduced Wayne: "This is Madame Maxime, Headmaster of Beauxbatons Academy."
"And this is Wayne Lawrence, a first-year Hufflepuff this year."
Wayne craned his neck upwards to meet her gaze. "Pleased to meet you, Headmaster Maxime."
"Hello, child." Though she knew little else about him, Wayne's appearance alone earned him considerable favour, so Maxime's demeanour remained warm.
The group didn't linger in small talk for long. The Aurors and other witches and wizards soon dispersed—their task was to prevent outsiders from approaching.
From tonight onwards, this area would be under lockdown. No witch or wizard could enter without authorisation from the Magical Congress.
Lafferty, Lester, Maxime, and the two newcomers headed towards the tallest peak in the distance.
Lester and Newt, the two experts, would observe the condition of the Thunderbirds and the health of their eggs after they laid.
If any issues arose, they would be responsible for resolving them.
"This time, five Thunderbirds have laid eggs. During this period, their mates become extremely aggressive—you'll see for yourself soon," Newt explained to Wayne.
"What's the survival rate?"
"Less than forty per cent." Newt sighed slightly. "And that's with our assistance. Before the sanctuary was established, two out of ten eggs surviving was considered good."
Wayne gave a slight nod.
For a creature as formidable as a Thunderbird, it made sense that its reproductive capabilities wouldn't be particularly strong.
It was a law of nature—the more powerful the creature, the harder it was to produce offspring.
'No, I need to find more wives while I'm still within the human category to secure the Lawrence family's lineage.'
Newt had no idea that simply listening to Thunderbirds laying eggs could lead Wayne's thoughts so far astray. He placed a hand on Wayne's shoulder, and the pair Apparated, soon arriving at the foot of the highest peak.
Lightning crackled across the sky, casting a tense atmosphere...
The very space around them grew unstable, forcing them to proceed on foot for safety.
During the ascent, Wayne also learned the purpose of Maxime's visit—she, too, sought materials from the Thunderbirds for her school's Alchemy curriculum.
With Nicolas Flamel's assistance, Beauxbatons' Alchemy programme was undoubtedly the finest in the world.
When mentioned, the towering woman's face bore a hint of pride.
Screech—!
Halfway up the mountain, the group suddenly heard the cry of a Thunderbird. Newt's expression darkened.
"This isn't right. During the laying period, the males rarely leave the nest."
A massive shadow streaked across the sky as lightning split the heavens, revealing the creature—a Thunderbird.
Watching it descend rapidly, the group braced themselves, wands already drawn.
"Wayne, stay behind me," Newt said sternly.
Whoosh!
A fierce gust of wind swept past as the Thunderbird landed on the ground, mere dozens of metres away.
Screech—!
Another cry rang out. The others remained wary, unsure of its meaning—only Newt and Wayne wore odd expressions.
Newt even turned to the boy, stammering, "It's... here for you?"
Wayne gave a wry smile. "Probably."
The other three stared at them in shock.
"Let me talk to it," Wayne said softly.
Newt hesitated, then stepped aside. "Be careful."
"Mr Scamander—" Maxime began, but Newt gestured for her to remain calm.
Under everyone's watchful gaze, Wayne stepped forward alone to face the Thunderbird.
The hearts of the group were in their throats, even Newt's. He gripped his wand tightly, ready to act immediately should the Thunderbird show any signs of anger.
Through instinct and experience, Newt had indeed sensed this Thunderbird's profound goodwill towards Wayne.
Yet they couldn't afford even the slightest carelessness.
This was no ordinary Thunderbird. While typical specimens had wingspans of eight to ten metres, this one measured over fifteen—the undisputed ruler of these lands.
As Wayne approached, something astonishing happened. The towering Thunderbird lowered its head, pressing it against the ground. Its lantern-sized eyes gazed at Wayne with eager anticipation.
"You want me to pet you?" the boy ventured.
Screech!
Another cry confirmed it. Wayne reached out to stroke its steel-like feathers, then grimaced.
'So rough.'
As if understanding his expression, the Thunderbird looked somewhat aggrieved. It raised its head, exposing its neck where the feathers were softer.
Wayne stood on tiptoes—the creature was so massive that this was his only way to reach it. True enough, these feathers were much smoother than those on its head. He closed his eyes contentedly.
The Thunderbird trilled with delight.
Maxime and the others gaped, struggling to comprehend the scene before them.
Lafferty turned to Newt. "Mr Scamander... what on earth is happening?"
As a Thunderbird expert, he understood the significance of such behaviour better than most.
An animal's most vulnerable spots are always its softest areas. For Thunderbirds, these were the neck and chest.
That Wayne could handle these regions so freely was unimaginable.
This wasn't just friendliness—it bordered on submission.
"I'm not entirely sure myself," Newt admitted with a wry smile. "Perhaps it's a natural gift. Like me, Wayne has an affinity with magical creatures."
He suspected Ho-Oh's influence, too—legends spoke of close ties between Thunderbirds and Phoenixes. But this remained Wayne's secret, so Newt kept silent.
Yet even accounting for Ho-Oh's presence, such intimacy couldn't be explained so simply. Wayne must harbour other mysteries.
Newt was right. The Thunderbird's extraordinary compliance—even abandoning its mate and unborn chick to seek Wayne—stemmed chiefly from one factor: the Thunderlord's Decree.
This innate ability marked Wayne as the sovereign of thunder. Though he hadn't activated it, the Thunderbird's acute sensitivity to electrical energies detected the implicit hierarchy between them.
"Go back to your mate and the little one," Wayne murmured. "We'll come up shortly."
The Thunderbird cried again, spreading its wings while watching the boy.
"Er." Wayne turned to the others. "He's offering us a lift. Coming?"
After exchanging glances, Newt stepped forward first, the other three following hesitantly.
Once all were seated securely...
With a mighty flap, the divine bird soared skyward!