Tom never would have imagined that he had somehow raised three… lazy bums.
After finishing their test, the three unicorns were half-kneeling on the ground, taking a break like overworked divas. Tom's temper—normally kept under lock and key—flared for once. Storming over, he gave each of them a firm swat.
Honestly, what a disgrace—embarrassing him in someone else's home, no less.
"Still trying to slack off, are you? Get moving! You'll only get a Patronus snack when you've reached the standard Uncle Newt set for you."
"Wuu~ wuu!"
The three little ones immediately protested. A life of eating and sleeping, sleeping and eating—how perfect was that? Why ruin it with exercise?
But Tom was immune to cute tricks today. He shoved and nudged until they began running again.
Their owner was out there day and night, studying hard, traveling all over without rest, and here they were developing… luxury illnesses?
Was this fair? Absolutely not!
Newt, watching Tom fume, just chuckled and shook his head.
That's the drawback of keeping magical beasts as pets—spoil them too much, and you wear away their wild nature. Still, it was a fixable problem. If Tom could harden his heart, the three unicorns would be back to normal before he left the States.
Newt immediately improvised a special feed for them, tailored to their current condition. Tom watched him work, and for some reason, was reminded of Professor Oak and… "that silly guy."
That silly guy just went around seducing Pokémon, while Professor Oak was the real breeder.
But Tom wasn't idle for long. The place wasn't just a paradise for magical creatures—it was also a treasure trove of magical plants. Magical animals and magical herbs had always been linked in symbiosis, and Newt's menagerie was even more diverse than the Forbidden Forest. Many of the herbs and special materials here made Tom's fingers itch.
With Newt's permission, Tom began his own treasure hunt. It felt like letting a Niffler loose in a gold vault—if he saw something good, never mind whether he needed it or not, he wanted to pocket it.
His brain's only job was to remind his hands to leave some behind.
So Tom kept busy right until evening, when Tina came to call them for dinner. Only then did they leave the little pocket world.
The old lady looked thoroughly displeased.
"Tom, don't go copying Newt—spending all day in that blasted Case and not talking to people. You're not a Hufflepuff, so how come you get along with this old man so well?"
"Because a love for magical creatures transcends Houses."
That made Newt beam with pride… and made the old lady's brows shoot up. Tom quickly added, "But I'm not as universally affectionate as Uncle Newt. I only like a few kinds of magical creatures. Today just took longer because I was gathering materials."
That soothed Tina's temper. "If you like any material, just take it. If you can't find it, let Newt help. But tomorrow, go out more—see the city. Don't just stay at home."
Tom agreed readily—he was planning to look around.
Since he'd traveled all the way abroad, he might as well bring back some souvenirs for the little witches back home, and check out a few landmarks—tourist style.
But the next day, Tom was scratching his head in dismay.
He'd been foolish—what souvenirs could a country whose history was shorter than a British cookbook possibly offer? Buy… leaves? Ridiculous.
And beneath those lofty skyscrapers lay filthy streets and swarms of homeless people. The glamour from afar was gone up close.
He'd basically wasted a whole day outside. In the end, he only bought a few Transformers and some dolls as keepsakes.
Of course, he wouldn't give them away just like that—he planned to magically modify them first. Otherwise, they'd be embarrassing to hand over.
And the Transformers? Those were for him. Who could resist a robot that turned into a car?
When he got back to Newt's, there was good news—tomorrow, they would head to the Thunderbird Sanctuary.
Getting into the Sanctuary wasn't easy. You had to apply to the American Magical Congress, undergo strict vetting, and be approved. Applicants had to have no criminal record, no history of poaching or killing magical beasts, and a Congress-approved reason to enter.
The process could take ages.
Fortunately, this time the applicant was Newt—world-famous not only as a master of magical creatures but also for his sterling reputation. No one in their right mind would suspect Newt Scamander of being a poacher—not even if they suspected the President of Congress. Add to that the fact that Tina had once risen to Head Auror and trained a whole army of protégés, and the paperwork flew through in record time.
Indeed, behind every successful man was a woman who could make him live comfortably off her influence. Dumbledore had once had such an opportunity… and had passed it up.
A bit of a life failure there.
"How are we getting there?" Tom asked.
Newt produced two slips of paper. "I've already bought tomorrow's plane tickets."
"Flying's a lot slower than Floo Powder or a Portkey, isn't it?" Tom's mouth twitched. He had a bad feeling about this.
Newt shook his head with a sigh. "I'm too old for those jarring ways of traveling. A plane's nice—we can even sleep on the way."
Tom suspected he was talking nonsense—if a unicorn's tantrum didn't faze him, no mode of travel would. But the tickets were already bought, so he said nothing more.
On the morning of their departure, Tom left Usagi inside Newt's little world, to live independently for a few days.
This was Newt's suggestion—when Tom kept his draconic aura suppressed, it was faint enough not to bother even a Thunderbird, but Usagi was different. She might not be fully grown, but her aura already surpassed that of a regular Fire Dragon. Best she stay home and not stir up trouble.
Given that there were 300 pounds of meteorite in it for her, Usagi reluctantly agreed.
Before they left, Newt packed a spare suitcase with various odd magical creatures—both suppliers of raw materials and bodyguards.
When you faced a Scamander, you never knew how many magical creatures you were really facing.
Once everything was ready, Tom and Newt left, hailed a taxi, and headed for Kennedy Airport.
After more than five hours of flight, they arrived in Arizona's capital—Phoenix. From there, Newt grabbed Tom's shoulder and Apparated twice in quick succession, until they stood in a small town.
The place was dusty, with crooked houses lining the crisscrossing streets. The town was lively enough, though, and in the sweltering heat, many wore cowboy hats to shield themselves from the sun.
Tom even spotted a few people with rifles at their hips and wands in their hands—obviously dual-discipline fighters.
Newt led the way, speaking softly as he explained, "This is Thunderbird Town—named after the Thunderbird itself.
"Inside the Sanctuary, apart from Thunderbirds, there are plenty of other magical creatures. Many families and companies have set up breeding bases and material-processing plants here. With tourists increasing every year, this pure-wizard town gradually grew into the heart of the American Southwest wizarding community. The Magical Congress even has a branch office here."
Tom nodded. That, at least, made sense.