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Professor Dumbledore speaks out for Newt, requesting that his expulsion be lifted.

In the end though, Newt remains expelled and cannot return to Hogwarts.

Leta swears she will write him and it stings when she doesn’t. None of the few friends he had write him a single letter and Newt’s heart aches. He’s given up his education to defend his friend, to keep Leta from her family’s scorn. But now it’s his family who scorns him, now it’s his future that’s in jeopardy. At sixteen, he might lose his dreams.

He had truly thought she would write.

He feels hollow that she doesn’t.

His parents debate the merits of homeschooling him for his last two years. But not going to a proper school is far worse than going to a school with an improper reputation.

They decide to look into different schools.

Newt’s father had saved the life of a wizard who found himself caught up in crime ring involving the dark arts. The man has simply wanted to research rather than participate and Newt’s father had believed him. As an auror, his voice held sway and so the man was not sent to Azkaban.

The man was freed and he returned to his main profession, a professor of Durmstrang Institute.

After much deliberation, his father writes to the man and in the fall Newt will be sent far away from his home, to the school rumored to encourage the dark arts.

“It might not be bad,” Theseus tried to cheer him as Newt stared at the formal, dusty red uniform. “It is a top school Newt, despite any bad rumors. It remains one of the best.”

“I don’t know if I can do this,” he confessed, feeling drained. Hogwarts had been bright and amazing and he had learned so much but even there, Newt hadn’t fit in. A foreign all-boys school didn’t sound like it was going to be an improvement. Leta had been the one to make friends with him, not the other way around.

“You’ll be fine. Just two years and you’ll be done, off to find every magical beast there is right?” Theseus worked a smile from Newt. They had decided as young boys together what their futures would be. Theseus was following their father’s footsteps and already in training to become an auror. Newt was taking after their mum and learning about magic beasts, a magizoologist, just like her.

“Two years is nothing really, it’ll be over before you know it. This is a new start as well Newt, maybe it’ll be better than Hogwarts? You might be the most popular guy there by the end of the week.”


Newt found himself with a split lip and black eye by the end of his first week. His professors made no mention of it; aggression was the norm in the cold dark halls of Durmstrang. In Hogwarts Newt could at least blend in, but here he stood out like a sore thumb, his copper hair and small stature like a beacon it seemed. He missed Leta like a physical pain, wishing she was there with him, soothing the ache of being so alone.

No one had spoken to him since he arrived.

His professors did not acknowledge him and the other students only looked at him to snarl. An outsider and unwelcomed.

Newt shared a room with three other boys, all much bigger than him, all muttering in a language he didn’t know.

Finding isolated and hidden spots around the castle, Newt would curl up on the cold floor and practice language spells, at least wanting to know when he was being insulted.

He wiped at a tear absently and felt the sting of his black eye. Newt hadn’t even known why the boys had hit him.

Footsteps made him freeze and tension mounted in him as they drifted closer. Hidden behind a heavy red curtain, he kept absolutely still.

The steps stopped before him and Newt flinched when the curtain pulled back.

At least it was a professor and not another student come to hit him again.

The man stared down at him, frowning as Newt glanced up at him meekly and then focused on his suit robes. Most professors wore robes similar to a uniform but this one was wearing something closer to a muggle suit, tailored to fit him, an expensive sort.

“You’re the Scamander boy?” An American accent asked and Newt blinked up in surprise, he had thought he was the only one not from the area. The man had dark hair and eyes, he was handsome and his features were sharp. He looked astute and intimidating, but then everyone was intimidating here.

Newt nodded his head.

“Up then boy, come along,” the professor commanded and turned without waiting, making Newt scramble to follow him.

Down the long corridors they went until a heavy wood door swung open before the professor. It was a classroom with rows of tables and chairs, a large desk at the front of the class. Off to the right were shelves lined with English books and off the left was a cabinet filled with potions.

Newt waited by the desk as the professor collected two vials and brought them over.

“Your father wrote me, concerned about you and what not.”

Newt nodded his head, staring at his feet.

“Head up boy, look pathetic and you’ll be treated so.”

Newt jerked his head up, tears burning in his eyes as he tried to blink them away. The professor stood before him, watching without an expression and to Newt’s mortification tears began to fall down his cheeks.

“A soft sort are you? I suppose it makes sense, you have the look of one.”

“S-Sorry sir,” Newt whispered and the man huffed at him, leaning against the desk and motioning Newt closer. Nervously, he went over and watched the man uncork the bottle and rub a white cream on his thumb. Tipping Newt’s head up with his other hand, he inspected Newt’s face before running his thumb over Newt’s black eye. His calloused hands were rough but oh so warm and his touch was gentle, kind even.

Newt feared he might cry again, just from that little mercy.

The pain and swelling in his eye faded and the professor moved down, carefully rubbing Newt’s split lip, pushing his thumb into his mouth a touch to swipe the cut inside.

“Anywhere else?”

Newt shook his head. They had kicked him in the stomach but a cream wouldn’t help that. The professor frowned at him for a moment before reaching for the second vial. He pulled the stopper from it and handed it to Newt.

“Drink up, for any other aches or pains.”

Newt swallowed the salty taste down and watched the man pull his wand, pointing it directly at Newt and casting a charm. Warmth spilled into Newt’s bones, his clothing no longer feeling so drafty and thin.

“Learn your warming charms or you’ll catch yourself a nasty cold. You were practicing a language charm?”

Newt nodded.

“Most students here know English.”

Newt didn’t argue. He knew they spoke in different tongues to spite him.

The man scrutinized him for a moment before reaching back and pulling a little metal box on the desk closer, flipping it open he found a silver ring. He put his hand out to Newt expectantly and after a moment he realized he wanted Newt’s hand. Stumbling a bit where he stood, he offered his right hand and the man slipped a plain silver band on his ring finger.

“This will translate for you and also translate your words for others.”

“T-thank you,” he whispered, touching the warm ring with his other hand carefully.

“Now, you’re new here and I imagine it’s all very scary and what not. You need to try a bit more though, to make friends.”

“…I’m not very good at that sir.” Newt refused to cry again but his mind turned over his first week, sitting alone all the time, eating without anyone acknowledging him, curling up in a cold bed with no one to wish a good night. Even the most simple of things that he had at Hogwarts were gone now.

“You can’t claim to be any good if you’re not even trying. Come,” Newt followed the man to a window, peering out into the main courtyard of the castle. The classes were out and so there were boys out and about, walking and standing in groups talking.

“Wouldn’t you rather be there laughing among friends than curled up alone behind a curtain?”

Newt stared at a group sitting under a great old tree, young men talking and shoving each other in a friendly manner.

“I don’t think I will sir. Not now or ever.”

“That’s a terrible attitude right there,” the professor scolded and Newt shrank in on himself.

“S-sorry sir,” he murmured, staring at his shoes and feeling abysmal.

A hand on his hair made him look up, the professor peering at him. “I take it you do well under a kind hand then a rough one? No wonder Durmstrang has been hard on you. I’ve heard rumor you were expelled from Hogwarts? What did you do?”

Staring at the floor, Newt stuttered his story, about the Jarvey.

“Magical beasts is your poison is it? You have a passion for them?” The professor inquired and Newt nodded his head quickly.

“Easy enough then,” the man pushed away from the window smoothly, walking back to his desk and opening a drawer.

“Which house were you sorted into? The Eagle or the Stag?”

“S-Stag.” Durmstrang had only two houses, and the members were pitted against each other to a vicious degree it seemed to Newt.

The professor brought out a chunk of metal and set it on his desk.

“Your belt,” he put out a hand and Newt fumbled to obey, pulling the plain black belt from around his uniform. The professor transfigured the buckle into a stag head and handed it back to him.

“Show some pride, if nothing else, members of your house will defend you from the other one.”

Newt nodded his head quickly and struggled to get the belt back on as the man walked off again, motioning Newt to follow him. Down through the hallways, they passed other students and ended up in an area Newt had not been before.

It was a great glass observatory, with amazing plants growing seemingly wild, crawling up the walls and over every surface.

Birds sang out and something growled, a doxy hopped away just before a small runespoor snapped at it.

“Vulchanova?” Newt’s professor called and a voice answered from the back. They followed it to find an older professor, a wizened and gnarled woman with leather and fur-lined robes. Rough stones and bits of wood fashioned into necklaces and bracelets, layered over one another and looking hopelessly tangled.

Newt barely noticed though, because on her shoulder was an actual Fwooper. Newt had only ever seen them in books before. The colours were fabulous in real life.

“Graves, what do you want?” she grumbled and the professor, Graves, motioned for Newt to step forward.

“I’ve found you a helper.”

Newt’s heart lit up but the woman just scoffed as she looked him over.

“I ask the headmaster for help every teacher meeting and he denies me every time, no room in the budget and what not. Gets his potions ingredients here though, more so the ones he uses personally,” her tone suggested something lewd. “And now you bring me some scrawny student?”

“Even a scrawny student can shovel shit and change out pens. Beggars can’t be choosers,” professor Graves pointed out.

Newt couldn’t meet her gaze, eyes locked on the ground. So he noticed the tail under a thick bush, thrashing about as something hissed angrily. Red scales peeked out as voices muttered angrily and Newt shot forward without thinking.

“You can’t eat each other!” He cried, gently pulling the runespoor over to him and making the two heads stop attacking the third. A great deal of grumbling came forward and Newt listened patiently.

“Yes well, no one likes a critic, but honestly I’ve read that most runespoor die young because they’ve chewed their third head off you see and- that wasn’t a suggestion!” Newt huffed, fumbling to keep the three away from one another.

A walking stick poked the middle head hard and the snakes all went obediently calm as professor Vulchanova peered down at him.

“A Parselmouth boy?”

“Y-yes mam,” Newt managed weakly.

“…What’s on my shoulder then?”

“A Fwooper, he’s very lovely.” The bird puffed up as if knowing Newt was complimenting it.

“How did you know it’s a male?”

“His colours.”

The old woman grumbled at him and gave Newt a second long look over. Under her hard gaze he tried not to shrink.

“A bit of a wuss I imagine, but manageable. Fine. Be here after every class everyday and at first sunlight on Saturdays.”

“Thank you!” Newt said it too loudly, his excitement obvious on his face. “S-sorry, I just, I really a-admire magical creatures, I h-hope to be a magizoologist.”

“Don’t hope boy, do it,” she replied sharply and Newt nodded.

“He got the Hogwarts boot for keeping a Jarvey.” Professor Graves added, reminding Newt he was there, watching them both with an amused air.

Newt wanted to flinch but the woman didn’t look appalled, if anything she looked pleased.

“Figures, Hogwarts is a delicate sort, don’t understand that you can’t learn anything without a bit of risk,” she grumbled, stepping away and waving them off.

“Tomorrow, immediately after your classes.”

“Yes, M-ma’am.”

Newt didn’t want to leave the wonderful place but he followed professor Graves once more. The man led him to the courtyard and Newt felt exposed then, eyes on him. The professor waved over a group, four young men more than boys, all built and solid looking.

“The four of you will mind this one, if he’s harmed I’ll take it that you’re not serious about auror training. Part of excelling is being able to guard as much as attack.”

Professor Graves frowned at them all for a moment before turning back to Newt.

“You’ll eat with them from now on, stay with those from your house as well. Attend your duties with Vulchanova. On Sunday afternoons you’ll come to my classroom and we’ll practice dueling and basic defense. If you want to be wandering the jungles of the world seeking deadly beasts you cannot be weak. Understood?”

Newt nodded his head, trying not to grin as the man looked down at him.

“A soft touch,” Percival told the boys. “You want to win pretty things over one day, you best practice on him.”

Newt’s face burned red as the professor walked off.

“We have a little Sötnos to mind,” one of the boys chuckled in a thick accent, a dark haired and handsome looking sort. The word made the ring on Newt’s finger shiver, the magic feeling confused with the foreign word among the English. The faint impression of something sweet echoed in Newt’s mind.

“I’m Elias, little one. This is Otso,” he gestured to the fair-haired boy who looked unimpressed. “These two are Iosif and Constantin, we will be looking after you it seems.” Two more dark haired boys, both peering at him inquisitively.

Newt bit his lip nervously, feeling the others watching him. Elias came over to his side, curling a large arm around his thin shoulders.

“Are you shy little one?” He teased, but his tone more kind than cruel.

“V-very much, I’m a-afraid,” Newt forced out and the other boy chuckled.

“Come under my wing Sötnos, I’ll look after you.”

Newt let the boy lead him off but he couldn’t help glance after professor Graves, wondering why the man had decided to be so kind. Surely not simply because Newt’s father had requested him to.


After that day, Newt’s life changed very radically. He sat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner with the four older boys and no one seemed intent on hurting him anymore, no one glared outright at him anymore. Other boys noticed his belt and some even nodded at him as they passed, seeming to see him suddenly.

Professor Vulchanova had a sharp tongue and little patience but her observatory was filled with magical beasts and her knowledge on them was amazing. Newt hoped he would learn half as much as her one day. He spent his evenings mostly cleaning up after the beasts and mixing feed for them, but even that was exhilarating.

The doxies had been a bit mean but warmed up when they realized Newt was in control of the food. He slipped them an extra bit here and there, and soon he had friends. The murtlap was a darling and the mooncalves were adorable. The giant dung beetles were always happy to see him, as Newt would collect mounds of droppings for them to take. Puffskeins would flutter in his hair as he worked and once Newt was done his chores he would sit and watch the creatures, never finding a dull moment. Even in the forbidden forest of Hogwarts, Newt had only caught glances of most creatures. Here they roamed free, un-caged and wandering as they pleased.

“You get bitten, stung, spit on, sprayed on, or anything of the sort, come find me straight away. Otherwise, use common sense,” Professor Vulchanova told him firmly.

“She’s a softy under the tough skin, lets any mangy sad-eyed beast in,” the runespoor grumbled. Since Newt had started coming, the beast took to curling on his shoulders to talk as he worked. Apparently having a decent conversation was nice and it helped keep the three heads from wanting to kill one another. Newt mostly played a mediator in the arguments, but even then he was thrilled. No one had known he was a Parselmouth at Hogwarts; the idea of it came with connotations towards dark arts and evil things. But no one seemed to care at Durmstrang, if anything it impressed people.

“A rare talent,” Elias told him at dinner. “Few wizards are born with natural abilities like that. But then you come from an old family?”

Newt chewed his meat and swallowed politely as he nodded.

“My mum was from the Fawley family.”

“One of the sacred names,” Otso spoke up, the first words he had said to Newt. “You have a powerful bloodline,” he peered at Newt, as if he might see it if he looked hard enough. “You should be better at dueling than you are.”

Elias snorted. “Stop being mean.”

“Professor Graves said I am i-improving. We weren’t taught dueling the same way y-you are here.”

“Most schools are like that, too hands off. You cannot learn a thing without doing it.” Iosif grumbled and the other boys nodded their heads. Newt could see their point. He had read hundreds of books about magical creatures but he was learning in leaps and bounds by working under Vulchanova. Hands on method did seem to have merit.

“Within reason,” Elias added and the table seemed grim for a moment. Newt bit his lip, looking at them and the other students within earshot. Something had happened recently. Newt wasn’t sure what, but it seemed like a black sort of thing.

There was only one person Newt felt comfortable enough around to ask and not be scorned.

“Past event?” Graves frowned at him, walking around Newt and pausing to correct his wand motion. The older man slipped up behind Newt, pressing his body against Newt’s back and showing him how to stand properly. A firm hand on his waist held him as long fingers curved over his own hand holding his wand and together they went through the motion again.

“No one wants to speak of i-it, but something t-that happened, something… bad.”

“Ah,” Graves stepped back and Newt missed the heat of his body. Elias sometimes threw an arm around Newt but Professor Graves touched him more. Hands on his shoulder or hip, fingers on his neck or a hand to tip his chin up to remind Newt to keep his head up. Newt had never liked being touched too much, but with the older man he found he didn’t mind. If anything, he rather liked it. He missed having human contact a bit, Leta had also been very hands on, often holding Newt’s hand.

“About a decade ago now it would be. A student came through. Grindelwald was his name. Durmstrang has a reputation for dark arts, scorned because we believe in actually learning it. Learning it so we can understand it, so we can prevent and overpower it. Knowing, truly knowing, what is being cast, can save your life,” Graves lectured and Newt nodded, going through the wand motions as the man spoke.

“It’s the same with magical beasts, I t-think. They might be named dangerous but it's how you treat them that makes them so; having poison or claws doesn’t mean they’ll use it.”

Graves nodded, looking pleased and Newt felt his chest flush with a warm pleasure at the approval.

“Grindelwald was a true dark wizard, he lured other students into experiments. It went far enough that they were altered, never quite right after his tests. He was found hiding children in a storage room, no one was sure what he was doing. He claimed he was protecting them but it didn’t seem right.”

Newt forgot his practice, turning to stare at the man with horror.  

“What happened?”

“He was expelled and all other schools were made aware of his sins so he couldn’t attend them. There was no way to properly prove what he had done so he couldn’t be turned in to the aurors.”

“That’s terrible.”

Graves nodded, stepping in to tap Newt’s arm and he immediately fell back into position.

“It was. Durmstrang is a harsh and rough school but there is a strong sense of unity within. To have someone harming his fellow students riled everyone up. They don’t talk of it, but no one has forgotten, the story passed down as an example. Learn the dark arts, but do not lose yourself to them.”

Newt nodded his head seriously as Graves stared him down. He met the man’s gaze for a moment and that seemed to satisfy him.

“Now, when you cast, be clear in your words, step into the motion and start the wand gesture as you step.”


“Sötnos!” Newt paused in the hallways, looking back as Iosif and Constantin walked toward him. They had all fallen into the habit of calling him by the name, a term meaning sweetie to Newt’s understanding. It was a bit embarrassing but the four boys had taken their duties seriously so Newt just went along with it.

Despite not feeling so isolated though, Newt was aware that they weren’t quite friends. He was more or less a project to them, something to prove themselves to Professor Graves.


“I’ve never been one with plenty of friends,” Vulchanova sniffed when he mentioned it to her. As the weeks wore on, she began to let him do more, helping with more than just cleaning and feeding.

He helped her hold a stubborn niffler still as she pulled bits of glass from it’s back, an old injury that had festered and left the poor thing weak. Students would bring any creatures they found to her in order to win marks in her classes. She taught classes required to graduate and she was known for being a harsh and critical professor.

“My animals have always been enough, other enthusiasts as well from time to time. You simply need to be yourself and you’ll meet those worth your time. You wander around with those meat-headed boys anyways.”

Newt hadn’t told anyone about Graves instructing the boys to look after him, he wasn’t sure if he should so he remained quiet. The last thing Newt wanted to do was get the professor in trouble, after all he had done for Newt.

Carefully bandaging up the niffler, Newt dug into his pocket until he found what he wanted. A spoon he had polished with a spell so it gleamed brightly. The niffler’s little paws reached for it immediately and Newt gently carried him over to a wood box with a side hole and removable top. Inside were other spoons and knobs, shiny things Newt had managed to find around the castle that wouldn’t be missed. The little beast settled into the nest readily, picking up various things to inspect them eagerly.

“Good thinking, he’ll be happy as a clam in there, give himself time to heal properly.”

Vulchanova observed.

“Why is he here in the first place? Nifflers aren’t native to this area?”

“Mountain rangers? Of course not. No, some boneheaded student likely brought him and immediately lost him. Nifflers can’t be caged, you have to make them want to stay, as you’ve done.”

“But why bring a niffler?”

“To steal of course. The sheer amount of beasts we confiscate is ridiculous. Students thinking they can tame or train them, wanting to show off a rare viper and then losing their eyesight because it bit them.”

The old woman spared Newt a dirty look.

“I’ll be tossing you out on your ass if I find you trying to mistreating some beast.”

“I would never!” Newt cried, embarrassed immediately when her eyebrows raised in surprise from his shout. Her laugh was wheezy but genuine.

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t.”


Newt’s roommates kept to themselves mostly, but they did talk at times. Settled into his bed to sleep he overheard them whispering about some daring plan, a way to make a great deal of money. Reporting other students was frowned upon and professor Graves had encouraged him against it.

“Speak to me before anyone else. If you get branded a tattletale your life will become much harder here,” he advised. So Newt learned to look the other way, not speaking up when someone was sneaking somewhere or planning to make trouble. As long as no one was getting hurt, he left it be.

But that Saturday morning his roommates returned excitedly, clothing charred and reeking of black smoke. They had a leather satchel and set it on the bed. Newt was up to head out to Vulchanova’s observatory and by chance he saw what was in the sack.

“Where did you get those!” He cried, pushing passed the larger boys to inspect the eggs. True dragon eggs.

“It’s no worry of your own,” one of them growled and Newt shook his head frantically. “Did you steal them? From a dragon?”

“He said it’s no worry,” another boy snarled and Newt wanted to kick them all in the shins.

“Unless the mother is dead she’ll come looking for them! She’ll come to the school!”

“We are far away, she did not see.”

“She doesn’t have to see, she can smell them!”

The argument stopped short when a great roar rattled the windows and students began shouting in alarm. The three boys all went pale now and the unmistakable scream of a dragon rang in the morning air.

“A single dragon is no match for Durmstrang,” the tallest boy said, his tone uncertain. The unease of the three allowed Newt to gather the eggs quickly back into the satchel.

“Swedish Short-Snouts don’t live in isolation! They live in groups, one dominant female and a flock of submissive males. If she comes, and she will for her eggs, the males will follow.”

The echo of dragon roars filled the castle, harsh voices yelling and the smell of burning. Newt stumbled from their room with the eggs, the entire castle shaking as dragons landed on the rooftops and let loose powerful blasts of fire. The wood beams turned to ash and the stone walls crumbled red hot under the intense heat.

Newt turned in a wild circle in the courtyard, looking for the female. Students ran irrationally around, everyone shouting and spells flying.

Stumbling over stones in a destroyed archway Newt fumbled and nearly slipped.

“Sötnos! Come to the main hall with the rest,” Otso was hollering at him but Newt ignored him and managed to get the footing to climb the rubble and get onto the rooftop.

The female landed just as he got there, teeth bared in a hissing snarl, her throat red hot with a fire that would incinerate him.

“I’m sorry!” Newt cried out to her. “They shouldn’t have taken them, they should never have.” He told the mighty beast, it’s keen eyes locked on Newt as he flipped the bag open to show her.

“They're safe, take them, take them home.” Newt gently pushed the bag closer to her, watching the female scent at her missing eggs. Sucking in a heaving breath the female raised her head and let out a plume of fire, the heat from it, even ten feet away stole Newt’s breath and left him gasping for air. His face felt like it was burning hot and he turned to shield himself. As the fire died the female gave out a strange call, the other dragons all looking toward her.

Grasping the bag in her mouth gently, she pushed off from the roof, her wings beating to lift her into the air.

The gusts of air knocked Newt back and he went flying, grabbing at the smooth tiles helplessly as he was flung over the edge of the building.

The sensation of magic caught him, winding protectively and pulling Newt. He came to an ungrateful heap at Professor Graves’ feet. The man was looking up at the dragons rather than him. Behind him were other professors and students armed with spears.

“It’s alright!” Newt cried, scrambling to his feet and grasping Professor Grave’s arm to get his attention. “She has her eggs back, she left, the males will follow her.”

The older man fixed Newt with a hard securitizing stare.

“Why were there dragon eggs in the school?”

“My roommates stole them last night, the went on some sort of raid. But those are Swedish short-snout dragons, they follow their lead female and she left, the rest are already following.”

Graves frowned but peered out from the cover of the stairwell, seeing that dragons were indeed leaving. When Newt tried to step away the man caught his arm in a bruising grip, turning a fierce look on him.

“Take me to your roommates immediately,” he snapped and Newt fumbled to obey.


The three boys were lined up before the rest of the students, all standing backs straight as the headmaster paced before them, the professors all lined up behind him like a jury. Newt stood away from the other students where Graves had left him, unsure what he should be doing.

“At any point did you understand the danger and stupidity of what you were doing? Raiding a dragon nest?”

All three boys remained silent, faces white.

“You brought a horde upon us, buildings are ruined, students are injured. What should be the punishment I wonder? Should those hurt the worse die from their wounds?”

The headmaster asked calmly, his voice tight with fury. Newt glanced at professor Graves and he too wore a steadily furious look, all of the professors did. Even Vulchanova looked more severe than usual.

“Well?” The headmaster snarled and the students all seemed to jump in union.

“And this one,” Newt barely kept himself from stumbling back as the vicious man stalked toward him, circling Newt. Professor Graves looked composed and Newt tried to echo his stance. “The little British boy is the one to defeat them, the rest of the school hiding?”

“N-no sir,” Newt whispered and only after he said did he realize he should have remained quiet.

“What did you say boy?” The man growled.

“Other s-students were trying t-to help, trying to f-fight. I just k-knew what to d-do.”

“What to do,” the man scoffed. “You climbed a building to toss the beasts eggs at its face. What to do,” he shook his head. “…Perhaps you do belong among us.”

The headmaster faced the three boys again, circling them before coming to stand in front of the professors. They looked terribly intimidating, united and authoritarian, standing in a formation with hands at their backs.

“What do you think of these boys? Shall we expel them for this reckless act?”

Newt startled when he realized the man was speaking to him.

“…I…sir t-they,” Newt fumbled to speak, glancing at the backs of the three boys, his roommates that had barely spoken a word to him in the months he had known them.

“They made a mistake sir. They d-didn’t bring those dragons here intentionally. S-students make mistakes in l-learning.”

Newt could feel his knees threaten to give out at the headmaster stared him down, mouth pulled in a scowl.

“Mistakes he says, mistakes that ruin the castle and land others in the healer's ward.”

Newt ducked his head.

“…Very well then. You’ll not be expelled by the mercy of this boy. A punishment fitting your crime will be decided by your professors.”


After the assembly, they settled into dinner, the room quickly turning boisterous as students retold their stories of where they were and how they acted.

“Sötnos! You faced a dragon, stood right before it’s great maw. What was it like?” Elias questioned and Newt paused, nibbling on his bread.

“It was…magnificent,” Newt confessed, recalling the amazing creature close up, the heat rolling off her and the way her intelligent eyes had looked at him. Her scale plating and stunning body. So much grace and power combined so flawlessly.

“Magnificent!” Someone down the row laughed and Newt felt his face burn red at the mockery in their tone.

“Swedish short-snouts can turn bone to ash in seconds, even a light grazing of their flame would kill. Something that powerful should be respected.” Vulchanova announced behind them, making most of them sit straighter.

“You come by later, I want you to write everything you can recall of the female, try drawing her as well,” she directed at Newt who nodded his head. He pulled out his notebook that he had open on his lap already.

“I made a few notes already,” he admitted and the old woman stood over him as he flipped the pages, pointing out the way the dragon’s pupils had dilated when he spoke, suggesting she had understood on some level.

“The question is whether it was because she was that smart or that you could speak her language, parselmouth as you are. Some believe snakes and dragons are linked. Bring your plate then, we need to get it all down while it’s fresh.”

Together they went to her observatory, one of the few places untouched by the attack. The glass shimmered with protective spells, layer upon layers of them.

Eating bits of roast and trying to keep the beasts from stealing it all, Newt made rough drawings eagerly, talking nonstop as Vulchanova wrote it all down. Newt pulled the paper over to a fresh one, trying to get the eye to look right, he had never seen one up close in books before and he wanted to try and record it now.

“…You have a great passion for this,” the professor contemplated suddenly and Newt blinked up at her, a bit embarrassed to realize he was blabbering on.

“S-sorry,” he replied automatically and she fixed him with a fierce glare.

“Don’t. Stop that boy. Stop apologizing for existing. Stop apologizing for knowing something, for having a talent. You bend your head down too often, as if you are less.”

Newt nodded his head quickly and bit his tongue to keep a ‘sorry’ down. Professor Graves often told Newt the same thing, telling him to stand straighter and walk with his head up.

“Great witches and wizards who teach here were baffled today, running amuck like idiots. You knew what to do and you did it, no hesitation, no cowardice.”

Newt nodded again weakly, looking down at the dragon as he kept sketching it, drawing that great eye.

“Now, teaching aside,” she leaned towards Newt, focused on him intently. “Tell me, how did it feel to stand before a Swedish Short-Snout dragon? To be an arm's length away from her?”

Newt bit his lip and glanced up at the woman. Leaning in, he fought a tiny secretive smile.

“Honestly?” Newt met her gaze for a moment. “It was utterly amazing.”

They talked long into the night, the moon lighting the observatory and Newt fell asleep there, various beats curling up with him for warmth.


“A creature whisperer are you?” Professor Graves sounded amused as Newt lifted his head and blinked at him. The creatures around him squawked or grumbled in annoyance as he sat up. An old worn blanket falling around his waist as Newt looked up at the man and realized the sun was shining.

“Oh no,” Newt breathed, thinking of his Sunday meetings with the professor. “I’m sorry sir,” Newt apologized and Vulchanova grumbled from somewhere.

“It’s fine. Normally I have little patience for tardiness but in this case I think we can be lenient. It’s not everyday one wrangles a dragon?”

“I really didn’t sir, I merely gave her back what was rightfully hers. No one would like their babies stolen.”

“True enough, I suppose.” Graves agreed, stepping back as Newt got up from the sacks of feed that had been his bed. He stretched out his arms and stumbled to his feet. When he almost tripped, the professor caught him, his warm arm firm as Newt clutched at it. He caught the scent of cologne clinging to his robes, something a bit like cedar wood but more refined somehow. Newt flushed red as he stood up properly.

“Go eat and wash up, we’ll meet in my classroom in a hour?”

Newt nodded his head and hurried off.


It felt odd to be acknowledged, heads nodding at him, casual greetings tossed his way. Newt struggled not to act foolish, returning good mornings politely if with a bit of a stutter.


“I imagine you will be more popular now,” Graves noted distractedly, more focused on casting careful spells, soft stinging hexes that Newt had to block. They came in a steady beat from various directions and he flicked his wand from side to side to catch and repel each one.

“I had h-hoped to make friends but now I’m not sure how. People are talking to me but how to I engage them? I don’t like quidditch and that seems to be the most popular thing. That and girls, which I don’t know much about.”

Newt jumped as a sting caught his foot, making him wince and shake it. Professor Graves gave him a moment to work through the minor hurt before he took stance again and Newt mirrored him.

“Surely you can sit with them and discuss what you think a girl might look like under her robes, or peer through dirty books to catch a peek at tits,” the older man teased and Newt’s face burned red. Even distracted though, he blocked the spells flying at him.

“I’ve not much c-care for that sort of thing,” he admitted shyly. His heart jumped into his throat, making the words feel strange on his tongue, almost trapped there. But as he said them, he admitted something he had known for years but never dared to speak out loud before.

“Sex?” the professor asked, his hexes coming faster now. “Or girls?” Newt stumbled back a step, eyes flying to catch each spell and stop it from hitting him. The rhythm was gone now, hexes coming from all sides.

“G-girls that is, sir,” he managed to get out before he tripped over an uneven stone and hit the floor bracing for the pain of multiple hexes.

He blinked when they didn’t hit. Professor Graves smirked at him, coming over and holding out a hand for Newt. Taking it, he got back up on his feet and let the man dust off his backside now covered in a fine layer of dust.

“You’re improving, but you must pay attention to your surroundings as well as the spells. In a jungle, a viper might be facing you, but tree roots will surely be there to tangle your feet.”

Nodding his head, Newt glanced at the man, looking for any sign of disgust at Newt’s confession. This was the first time he had ever admitted it to anyone. But this professor was special. He had taken Newt under his wing and he had been so kind to him. He was the only teacher who ever praised Newt, ever told him he was doing a good job. He knew he was competent in his other classes and he knew he was doing good with Vulchanova but, but Durmstrang did not praise their students for mere attempts. They expected the best rather than hoped. Graves would compliment Newt during their private lessons and it was a bit silly but those kind words Newt carried with him throughout the week, letting them remind him he was doing well. Outside their lessons the professor would stop in the hall to talk with Newt, would come by the observatory to ask how his work with animals was going. He was older than Newt, in his thirties, but he was also so very handsome. Newt knew he was developing a bit of a crush on the man.

Back at Hogwarts, Newt had done the same thing with his Professor Dumbledore, the man had been how Newt realized his sexuality. When it became bluntly obvious, Leta said Newt practically trailed after the man sighing, the professor had sat him down for a talk. With a painful gentleness, he had told Newt his affections were inappropriate and he was better off turning his attention to his fellow students. Newt had been utterly mortified and refused to admit understanding what the man was telling him, pretending to merely admire him.

If his feelings for Professor Graves were as obvious, the older man made no mention of it. He still touched Newt often, a hand on his neck or a pat on the back, not afraid to step in close to speak with him. He left Newt feeling flushed and a bit overwhelmed but in the best way.

“Now, as to your friend problem, I’m not sure what I can offer to that beyond the obvious.”

“The obvious?” Newt imagined something along the lines of being more outgoing or trying to learn more about quidditch and other wizarding sports.

Instead professor Graves smirked at him, reaching out to tip Newt’s chin up. He ran his thumb over Newt’s bottom lip, making it tingle and his body twist hotly.

“You’re a very gorgeous boy in a school without girls, and you’ve a fondness for other boys rather than girls.”

Newt’s entire face lit up, he just knew it was a blazing red.

“I t-that is, I d-don’t quite unders-stand what y-you mean.”

Graves chuckled and dropped his hand, patting Newt on the shoulder easily.

“I think you do. Suck a few cocks and you’ll be the most popular boy around,” he suggested teasingly and Newt struggled not to say something stupid and to stop himself from getting an erection right then and there.


The idea of crawled into his mind and burrowed itself deep. Newt struggled to focus on his classes and to give the creatures the care they deserved all week. It didn’t help that more boys were talking to him, greeting him in the halls or asking him questions during class. Newt kept thinking about it, about getting down on his knees for them and… well, he wrestled a great deal to keep himself attentive.

Curled up in his bed at night, he bit his pillow tightly and touched himself, fingers wrapped around his own prick as he thought of it. Shoving into his palm as he imagined what a cock would feel like in his mouth. Sucking in a muffled breath as he came with a shiver, thinking of Professor Graves, Newt down on his knees, sucking the man off as he praised him.

Trying to keep quiet, his mouth hung open as he sucked in unsteady breaths. The other boys remained dead asleep, the four beds spaced apart and the one snoring very loudly which covered most sounds.

The three had never spoken to Newt about his choice to defend them and his words preventing their expulsion. But they had all been nicer to him since then, talking to him and generally acknowledging he existed. One had even requested help with his schoolwork on magical beasts, which Newt was happy to provide. Their names were Erik, a light haired and handsome boy from Sweden, a dark haired and burly boy named Vili, and Mihail was another large boy on the quidditch team, he was from Bulgaria. Honestly, almost every other student was rather massive to Newt’s slight form.

All three had taken to calling Newt, Sötnos. Everyone did really, with a few students and his teachers referring to him by Scamander. Professor Graves mostly called him typically American pet names, doll, sweetie, darling, ect.

For the most part Newt didn’t mind it, no one was calling him slurs or unkind things and in a tiny little way, he felt like it made him feel more included, nicknamed as he was.

Newt thought of it all fondly, idly rubbing his fingers through his own semen, feeling the warm slippery mess and glancing to make sure everyone was asleep before bringing his fingers. It was a bit of a salty bitter taste, faint on his tongue and Newt’s middle finger rubbed it in. He slid his finger into his mouth and closed his lips, his eyes falling shut and focusing on the sensation of sucking.

He wondered what a proper prick would feel like, if he could even fit it in his mouth properly.

On Saturday, Newt headed to bed early and with the room to himself he settled on his bed and inspected a long glass bottle he had in his trunk, the only thing that was shaped a bit like a phallus, long and round. Red-faced, he pressed it against his mouth, parting his lips and opening wider and wider until it fit in. The glass was cold and smooth on his tongue, sliding in his mouth easily. Newt bobbed it a bit, pulling back and then sliding a bit deeper. When the bottle was almost the entire way into his mouth he choked. He shoulders jerked and he gagged, pulling the bottle free to cough.

Newt tried again but the same thing happened, over and over until he gave up, pressing his face into his pillow miserably.


“Why are you so glum today?” Graves asked, tipping Newt’s chin up to peer at him.

Newt bit his lip and shook his head, not wanting to admit he had tried and failed to suck on the bottle.

“Come on now, let’s hear the latest drama, did some boy make an attempt at hurting you again? Did the runespoor insult the niffler again? Was there no scones at lunch?” The man teased lightly, suggestions growing more silly until Newt felt a smile despite himself.

“I…tried something…and it d-didn’t work out w-well,” he admitted softly.

“Oh? A new spell?”

Newt shook his head furiously.

They were supposed to be doing their lesson but instead, professor Graves was leaning on his desk with Newt before him, staring at their shoes.

“It’s not like you to give up so quickly, it does take time to learn you know? What did you try?”

Newt stared down, face burning red as the professor stood and stepped closer, leaning in to him.

“Was it based on my suggestion last week?”

Closing his eyes in humiliation, Newt gave a tiny nod.

“Ah. Well such things don’t come naturally to anyone doll,” the endearment made Newt blink his eyes open, glancing at Graves as he smiled warmly.

“Here,” He raised his hand and ran a finger over Newt’s lower lip.

“Open up sweetheart,” he coaxed and Newt’s face burned, his hands gripping the edge of his school uniform tightly. He knew it was wrong, things between teachers and students were wrong, this was an older man taking advantage of him.

But Merlin, Newt wanted so badly to be taken advantage of.

He opened his mouth and Graves middle finger rubbed on his tongue.

“Close,” he commanded, voice low in a way it has never been before. Newt closed his eyes, too overwhelmed with everything. He sealed his lips obediently.

“Now suck.”

Newt sucked.

“Very good, not so hard right?”

He shivered and gave a tiny nod. A second finger joined the first and they rubbed on his tongue as the professor pulled them out and slid them back in.

When he added a third and pushed them deep Newt gagged and yanked away, spit hanging off the man’s fingers as Newt coughed and felt miserable.

Graves just chuckled.

“It that why you're so upset? Because you have a gag reflex?”

Newt glanced up at him, seeing the handsome man’s easy smile.

“It’s completely normal doll, sex is just like a sport, it takes time and practice to learn it, to train your body.”

“H-how do I do that?”

“Would you like help?”

Newt nodded without hesitation, knowing no matter what happened, he would want this man. Professor Graves was fit and handsome but more than that, he was warm and kind to him. Newt wanted badly to please him.

“Alright, come here,” he hooked a finger in Newt’s belt and pulled him in, until the tips of their shoes almost touched. It was almost dizzying to stand so close, head ducked down in embarrassment. The warmth of his body and scent of him made Newt feel a bit staggered.

Biting his lip, Newt watched as the older man undid his trousers. His prick was already mostly hard and after a few strokes, it stood proudly. He had seen other boys before, in the showers and what not. But this was different.

Graves’ cock was long and thick; it would never fit in his mouth. But Newt could feel his mouth watering with the thought of it, of his lips stretched wide to suck it down.

“Just watch darling,” the man whispered to him, mouth by Newt’s ear.

He stroked himself with a confident grace, hand moving smoothly from base to tip, twisting at the end to rub the head in his palm before dropping down the length again.

Newt stood there, transfixed as the other man masturbated, hand moving in quick motions and speeding up, his free hand reached to rest on Newt’s hip, just holding him.

As close as they were, Newt could hear the man’s inhales and soft little grunts in the back of his throat. His hand went faster and his cock twitched, the bulbous head swelling.

The hand on his hip took his own hand and gently guided it in front of the man’s erection. Graves turned it so Newt’s open palm was presented, the head of his cock bumping his skin.

“Here we go,” he breathed, voice tight and teeth gritted.

Newt stared as the man came, a thick white spurt on his skin, running down his palm to pool in his fingers. Newt closed them to catch it and keep it, trembling as his professor kept stroking, squeezing out a few more spurts before slumping against his desk.

“I dare say just having you around makes it better,” he mused with a smirk and Newt flushed, feeling pleasure sweep through him.

Professor Graves turned Newt around, made him face away and then step back against the man. A calloused hand took Newt’s wrist and lifted his semen smeared hand to Newt’s mouth.

“I bet you know what to do,” a voice rumbled in his ear, the man pressed up against his back.

Shivering, Newt opened his mouth and timidly licked the come in his palm. A hand came around his hip and cupped him, squeezing his own erection and he moaned out.

“There’s a good lad, lick it up now,”

Newt lapped his palm clean as Graves slipped his own hand into his trousers, curling his long fingers over Newt’s own prick. He would have fallen if not for the man holding him up, letting him lean on him.

He spilled after only a few stroked but his professor didn’t tease him for being too fast. Instead he raised his own sticky hand up to Newt’s face and without being told, he cleaned it. Tongue running over the rough skin, dipping between his fingers to catch every bit. Graves eased three fingers into Newt’s mouth, bobbing them back and forth.

“Practice,” he breathed in Newt’s ear, “makes perfect.”

His professor pressed a kiss to Newt’s neck, mouth opening to lick at his skin. Newt felt himself shiver at the sensation, warm and wet and oh so good.

“I think you should come visit me more, perhaps each night after dinner once your duties for professor Vulchanova are finished but before lights out?”

Newt nodded his head.


It felt a bit like a dream, learning about magical creatures each day, having students talk to him and then having his professor touch him, guiding and teaching Newt. He whispered such encouraging things, never scolding Newt.

“Such a good pet, just like that,” Newt was down on his knees, hands nervously on the man’s firm thighs. Mouth hanging open and waiting. Graves’ prick was in his face, the tip rubbing along his lips.

“Here,” the professor hissed, breathing heavily as he came. White bursts of come directly into Newt’s mouth. They hit the top of his mouth and then dripped down onto his tongue, gathered up until the man finished.

“Show me,” he commanded and Newt tipped his head to display the mouthful. A hand gripped his chin as the professor smiled down at him, pleased.

“You’re a natural you know, you look right like that, perfect on your knees. Such a pretty thing.” Each compliment made Newt’s heart flutter, his cock throbbing in his pants.

“Try to keep it,” his professor directed and Newt closed his mouth, letting the semen swish around as he was pulled up to his feet. With his backside pressed to the professor’s desk, Newt’s own cock was stroked and he always came so quickly when Graves touched him. When the man leaned down and his hot mouth swallowed Newt’s prick he nearly choked on the come in his own mouth, shivering as he came immediately. Graves stood again and tipped Neat’s head up before kissing him, his tongue pushing Newt’s own seed passed his lips.

He felt hot all over, dazed as the man kissed him so skillfully, not rushing but seeming to linger as he fed Newt another mouthful.

“It’s good isn’t it? The taste of it, knowing you pleasured a man. That you did so well he spilled, that he felt that sexual high you just felt yourself, all because of you?”

Newt felt dizzy with it, pleasure and happiness coursing through him.

“Swallow it down now.”

Newt swallowed, savoring it. In the beginning he hadn’t thought much of the taste but as his professor praised him he came to really like it. The salty bitterness represented how good he was, that he could pleasure others.

Newt started to crave it.

Every night he would meet professor Graves in his classroom and they would practice.

Newt learned to lick at the head of the man’s cock and then to hold it and then stroke the erection with his hands. He learned to press sloppy worshipful kisses along the length and to cradle his professor’s balls in one hand and stroke with the other.

He would keep the fat head on his tongue as he caressed the length, so Graves could spill right into his waiting mouth. Newt swallowed semen eagerly, and with gentle instructing and coaxing he learned to suck properly, to move his head up and down. To stroke what wasn’t in his mouth the entire time.

Each time Newt would gag a little less, each night Graves could push a bit further.

“I want to try something,” the man told him on a lazy Sunday and Newt nodded, knowing he would do whatever the man wanted.

“A bit of potion, for your problem.”

Newt blinked and watched the man pick a slim tiny white vial from his locked cabinet.

Graves smeared a drop on the tip of his middle finger and when he offered it, Newt opened his mouth without thinking, slipping it down. He could feel the cold cream of the potion on the back of his tongue.

“Swallow a bit,” came the direction and Newt obeyed.

“You just need to relax a bit more and ease into it, you’re learning quickly, improving every day,” he coaxed Newt, settling in his chair and tugging Newt to kneel between his spread legs.

He undid the man’s trousers and eased his cock free, stroking the thick length to full hardness.

“How does your throat feel?”

“…Tingly,” Newt admitted, trying to get used to the sensation. His professor pressed his wand to Newt’s neck muttering a spell used to stop the effects of something from spreading.

“Try to slide deep now, see if it helps.”

Newt obeyed, swirling his tongue over the tip as he was taught and pressing a sweet kiss to the head before slipping it into his mouth. He sank down, waiting for his body to gag but it never came. Instead, he managed to work it all the way down. He could feel the prick down in his throat and he was giddy with success.

“It worked didn’t it?”

Newt looked up at him, nodding a touch but not wanting to pull off the cock in his mouth. He pressed it deep again, all the way until his lips were at the base and his nose was tickled by Graves’ public hair. Newt swallowed at it, sucking hard until he needed to breathe.

Pulling off with a wet gasp, long strands of saliva hung off his bottom lip and he licked at them absently.

“I did it!”

The professor ran his hands through Newt’s hair, tipping his face up so he could rub his thumb over his lip.

“You did wonderful doll, absolutely wonderful. Shall we try something then?”

“What?” Newt blinked up at the man as he stroked the professor’s prick absently, trained to always be working his hands or mouth.

“I want to be a bit rough, I imagine the other boys might be so.”


The hand in his hair slid to his neck and squeezed reassuringly.

“If you need me to stop you could pinch my thigh?”

Newt bit his lip considering. So far they had been so careful about everything, gentle and kind.

“You see darling, a man wants to be rough, it can’t be helped. Even you thrust quite a bit when you’re about to come.”

Newt nodded, looking up at the man who had taught him so much already.

“All men are like that, wanting to just use, to be rough, to give roughly. It’s a sign of skill to be able to take that, to be used crudely.”

“It is?”

“Very much so,” Graves, rubbed his thumb over Newt’s lower lip again. “I’m going to fuck your face, properly ride you. We’ll see if you can take that?”

Newt glanced down, looking at the thick cock in his face and thinking of his tingling throat.

“Let’s try.” he decided and his professor looked so proud, smiling warmly as Newt flushed with joy.

“Remember, give me a good pinch if you feel like you’ll be sick or can’t breathe.”

Newt nodded, leaning in and opening his mouth.

He sucked down the cock and slid it into his throat again. His lips stretched wide to accommodate it and Newt could feel hands in his hair. They pulled him up and then pushed him down. It was an easy motion and Newt relaxed, letting the man guide him.

In and out, back and forth. He sealed his lips and sucked along the length as it moved in his mouth.

“Good doll, use that pretty mouth, such a sweet little thing,” he praised him, his hands moving a bit faster, pushing Newt down a bit harder.

He kept increasing it, moving Newt faster and shoving him down a bit harder. The hands in his hair tightened and pulled a bit. It hurt somewhat but it wasn’t terrible. The potion let him slide it all the way down his throat and he wasn’t gagging. Newt’s nose hurt a bit, slapping down to the base over and over.

It was hard to breathe properly and a few times he opened his mouth around the cock to suck in air. Spit hung down his face and pooled at the base of Graves’ cock. It smeared on Newt’s chin when he was slammed down to the base.

It grew rough, harsh even, wet smacks and his mouth making lewd sounds as he gasped for air. Tears burned in the corner of his eyes and he tried to ignore them, swallowing the cock in his mouth.

Grave’s breath grew heavy, his chest rising and dropping until he pulled Newt all the way off. One hand fisted in his hair, holding him in place as the other hand took his own cock and stroked it furiously. Thick white lines burst forward, painting Newt’s face, dripping down his cheek and chin.

Gasping a bit, sucking in full breaths of air, Newt licked a gob of come on his lip.

His professor took a long time to catch his breath. He looked so relaxed, sprawled out in his chair like he was. Newt felt an immediate gratification that they had done that, that he had taken care of the man’s rough side.

“Look at you baby, all used up,” he commented and Newt looked away, humiliated. But a firm hand on his chin made him look back.

“Now, now, you look gorgeous like that. Perfect, doll, the kind that can take it. If anyone ever says you don’t look good they're just jealous darling, jealous they aren’t you or that they didn’t get you, don’t get to keep you.”

Newt flushed red but felt a smile pull at his mouth.

“Alright, come slide into my lap and we’ll get you off too.”

He squirmed with a bit of shame now.

“I…I did a-already,” Newt admitted. “I rubbed myself through my pants wh-while you….face f-fucked me.”

Graves laughed warmly, looking delighted. “You truly are made for this Newt, able to get off just by pleasing men.”


“You’re acting oddly, some handsome boy got your heart?” Vulchanova snorted as Newt burned scarlet and ducked his head.

“Don’t lose focus, you could do well if you keep up with your studies,” she warned him and Newt nodded.

The runespoor sat in his lap, arguing the merits of mice to rats for dinner. Newt was actively learning about healing magical beasts already, just basic splints and the like but he was helping them. Not just admiring them from afar but actually helping them.

It made his heart soar. He enjoyed what he did with Professor Graves, but Newt would always keep up with his work. The older man never pushed him too far either, always willing to hold off if Newt was too tired or had too much homework. Never once did he make Newt feel pressured and he was grateful for that. It seemed like the man understood how important his education was, that this was Newt’s second chance and the only one he would get.


Erik never bothered with silencing spells, in the middle of the night Newt could hear him masturbating, growling and grunting, the slip of skin on skin. Curled up in his bed, Newt wondered about Professor Graves’ advice to make friends. After a few weeks most of the greetings had died away. Newt still felt welcomed though, he still felt like he was a part of the school. But he found himself wanting a bit more.

An awful part of him just wanted to suck them, wanted to see how many he could, how much he could swallow.

“Then try, there's no reason why not too,” Graves told him, rubbing the head of his cock over Newt’s lips.

“You’ve the skill you need, you might gag a bit but you know how to use your hands well enough. The next time you hear that boy jerking off crawl into his bed. Don’t say a word, just wrap your hand around his cock and suck it down.”

“W-what if he get’s mad?”

His professor frowned down at him. “I can’t imagine anyone not wanting to have a go at your pretty face,” he mused.

“But in case,” he used his wand to open a locked desk drawer and fetched a tiny bottle with a silver liquid.

“When you hear him, put a dab of this on your neck, right here.” Newt felt his thumb rub right under the corner of his jaw.

“W-what is it?”

“A potion for lust, nothing dangerous or too powerful. Just something to let him know you’ll take good care of him. Trust me.”

Newt did trust the man.



So when he heard Erik a few nights later he bit his lip nervously and pulled the potion from under his mattress. With shaking fingers he dabbed it on his fingertip and then rubbed his neck.

Newt almost didn’t manage to get out of his bed, so nervous. But Erik was looking at him suddenly; looking right at Newt at he jerked his cock. The faint moonlight made the head of it gleam as he shoved back his blankets.

Trembling, Newt stepped over the cold floor, glancing to make sure the other boys were asleep.

Erik’s hand grabbed at his neck as soon as he was close, pulling him as Newt went eagerly.

As Professor Graves had said, without a word, Newt was led to the prick and he opened his mouth to suck it down.

It felt so vastly different, much thicker but not as long as Graves. Erik’s hand gripped him hard, holding him in place as he pumped his hips.

Newt fumbled to kneel awkwardly over the bed, mouth opened and taking each lunge.

Almost too fast, the other boy was coming with a loud groan. Warm semen spurt on his tongue and Newt swallowed it readily, pulling off and licking his lips as he sat back.

Feeling giddy Newt smiled meekly as he slid off the bed to go back to his own.

“Thanks,” Erik muttered, voice low and Newt felt success fill him.

“I don’t mind, I like doing it,” he whispered, Graves told him to always tell the boys that. So they knew he would do it again.

Newt crawled into his own bed, erection aching.

Soft footsteps slapped gently on the stone floor and Newt glanced up as Vili came across the room. Without a worked he pulled his sleeping pants down, his erection full and bobbing in Newt’s face. Rolling onto his side, Newt obediently slipped it into his mouth. Vili’s hand curled in his head but he didn’t thrust as much, letting Newt move his head as he pleased. He was thick as well but not overly long either, perhaps Professor Graves was well endowed.

Newt sucked the other boy until he came, rather quickly. And then Mihail was there, pulling Newt off his bed to kneel on the floor. He rode Newt’s face the roughest of them, not stopping when he gagged. But he came as hastily as the other two.

Newt pulled off and Erik was crawling over his bed to join them. Newt kept stoking Mihail as he sucked down Erik again. Once he had him in his mouth he took hold of Vili with his other hand.

No one spoke a word, just low growls and grunts as Newt sucked them down over and over. They all came quickly but they got hard again right away.

Newt licked his lips absently, spit and semen running down his chin.

Erik fetched him a warm wet cloth to wipe his face after another round and then they all went to bed, Newt quietly delighted.

Just as Professor Graves had said, the boys were nicer to him.

Mihail seemed embarrassed around him now, but he still said good morning in his thick accent. Vili asked Newt about his classes, coming over to talk to him. He asked for more help with his schoolwork and when the other boys were out of their room, Newt would end up sucking him off in the day. Sometimes Erik and Mihail were there even. And when Newt was done with Vili he would suck them off as well.

Erik was the biggest change, waving to Newt in the halls and introducing him to his friends, complimenting Newt and chatting with him over classes and about magical beasts. He was interested in potion making and so he knew a bit about them for ingredients. Newt offered his own knowledge, about the humane ways to collect ingredients and how most creatures would let someone take multiple times if they could do it without hurting them.

Newt sucked them all off a few times a week. He still worked with professor Graves too, drinking down his seed and learning not to gag so badly.

Newt thought sometimes he could feel his stomach heavy with so much come settled down in it.


The showers were communal, all the boys cleaning together and Newt was used to it.

As winter set in and the castle grew drafty, Newt lingered more in the shower. He had learned his warming charms well but the hot water felt lovely.

Erik was the first one to want him in front of others.

He stepped under the shower beside Newt, absently pulling on his cock. Some boys masturbated in the showers, not caring who saw. So no one paid much attention.

But then he was reaching over to Newt, cupping his head and leading him.

Newt went.

Red-faced and a bit humiliated he still knelt right there and sucked the boy off. He could feel others watching him, staring as he worked.

“Such a pretty thing, like a girl,” Erik muttered and Newt shivered, swallowing when he came.

After that day most boys treated him differently, a few avoided him, sneered at him, but far more were friendly, wanting to study together. No one seemed to care that he stuttered or talked too much about magical beasts. No called him weird or awkward.


“You’ve been holding out,” Elias huffed at him and Newt flushed, gripping his books as the taller boy cornered him in a discreet part of the castle. “Others have been talking about you.”

He took Newt’s free hand and placed it on his cock through his trousers. Newt squeezed automatically, rubbing at it as the other boy groaned.

“If I had known, I would have been asking ages ago. You’re so pretty Sötnos, such a sweet face with your shining copper hair and tiny body, a man meant for other men, no?”

Newt flushed but nodded his head, undoing the boy’s trousers with one hand.

“I’ve heard rumors of you; that you have an amazing mouth, like a skilled woman, you swallow anyone down if they ask nice.You like doing it?”

Newt nodded again, glancing down the empty halls before going on his knees.

“Ah, what a perfect sight,” Elias sighed, watching Newt as he opened his mouth and took the warm cock in. He was big like Graves, nice and thick with a long length.

“It’s hard with no girls here, no way to have a bit of fun. But you, you will do very well, almost a girl yourself.”

He rode Newt’s mouth, hands cupping his head with the touch of someone experienced. Elias talked sweetly, praising Newt’s mouth and tongue, adoring his lips and calling him beautiful.

“A true gift,” he groaned as he came, pulling out as Newt licked his lips. He helped Newt stand back up with a hand, gracious and charming.

“You tell me if anyone is too rough or treats you badly, it is my job to look after you right?”

Newt nodded his head, feeling timid but glad for the sweet words and warm smile directed at him. It felt like the boy was no longer just looking after him, it felt like they were friends.


“You’ve gained a reputation,” professor Graves told him with a smile when they dueled on Sunday. “The boys can’t stop talking about the pretty British boy who’ll take care of them. The dragon wrangler eager to suck cock.”

Newt deflected the hex and tried to return it, still working to get a spell cast beyond defensive work.

“Have you made new friends?”

He nodded with a happy beam.

“Yes, some are obviously only talking to me because of what I’ll do for them, but I’ve met some students who are interested in magical beasts and some who have asked for help with school work from Vulchanova’s class.”

Newt jumped away from a hex, knowing the desk was behind him and side stepping it carefully.

“Good. I knew you could do well if you just tried a bit,” Graves praised him and Newt felt something his chest burn warm.

“Vulchanova is harsh but she knows her beasts, she’s mentioned you’re a good student, which from her is very high praise.”

Newt’s face burned with exhilaration.

“And you're getting better at this,” the professor sent a barrage of hexes, coming from all direction but Newt fought them off, he avoided being cornered and held his own for a good time before slipping up.

The stinging hexes used to hurt terribly but after so many for so long, they weren’t that bad anymore. Graves never let too many land either, preferring to be a bit more tender. Newt got thrown around in his other classes more. His defensive class, where they learned hand-to-hand combat, was far worse. But as of late, his partners had been going easier on him, pointing out his mistakes and helping him more.

But then again, Newt had sucked most of them off.

They knew to leave him alone when he was in the observatory working with deadly beasts, and Professor Graves had assigned a month long punishment to the student who held Newt up in the hall when he was due to work with him.

But beyond that Newt was constantly on his knees. Boy’s pulled him into their rooms often and every time he showered he sucked off at least three young men.

His jaw was a bit sore actually.

But Newt felt welcomed, he knew so many names and students stopped to talk with him, invited him to sit with them, they were suddenly nice. Newt knew it was because he was willing to pleasure them but he didn’t mind that. He liked doing it, he never refused if he could.

“I’ll miss you when you go home for the holiday,” Graves told him at the end of his lesson. “I’ve gotten used to you and your talented tongue.”

Newt chuckled and smiled at his feet.

“I’ll miss being here, with you and at Durmstrang, working with the beasts and making friends, I never thought I would be so happy here.”

“Perhaps even a touch better than Hogwarts?” Graves teased and Newt beamed at the floor.



“I do wish you would write more, once a month is so little,” his mum huffed and Newt shrugged meekly, staring at his plate.

“It’s the rules, once a month post comes and goes for students, in order to let us focus on our studies.”

“Sounds isolated,” Theseus frowned.

“I don’t mind it, the observatory is filled with magical beasts and helping with them has been amazing,” Newt confessed eagerly and his brother offered a soft smile.

“Nothing too dark then, no dangerous spells?” His father inquired and Newt wrinkled his nose considering it.

“Some of the teachers cast some dark arts, not on live things or anything. Just so we can see the effect of the spell, learn what it looks like and how to fight it.”

“No casting yourself?”

Newt fidgeted in his seat.

“A bit, to understand the magic. Never on anything alive, but rather on stone golems.”

Both his father and Theseus frowned, exchanging looks. Newt didn’t know how to explain the methodology of Durmstrang. It wasn’t about learning dark arts to use them but rather to know them. Some students did turn dark and some students used dark arts a bit but that alone wasn’t against any laws. It was when they started hurting people, manipulating, breaking laws. Potions could kill, they could make people mindless, but no one thought potion makers dangerous.

“Dumbledore had written about still trying to lift the expulsion, he’s a very stubborn sort,” his mum commented and Newt was surprised not to feel any sort of excitement with the idea.

“…I think I like Durmstrang, j-just because they’ve far more creatures than Hogwarts and Professor Vulchanova is mentoring me, I don’t think I’d find that extra tutoring elsewhere.”

His father and brother exchanged even more worried looks but his mum nodded.

“She’s well known in the community, she’s written books that are well respected.”

Newt nodded, happy someone understood.

“I’ve been working on a paper with her, about Swedish Short-Snout dragons, she wants it to be good enough to submit it for publishing. If I can get a few papers in good journals, she’s certain I’ll be free to study at any secondary school I want.”

His mum looked a touch surprised, but in a good way.

“My, that would be wonderful Newt, not many students as young as you publish, perhaps Durmstrang agrees with you.”

Newt nodded, chewing his bite of food.

“I think so. I was scared at first but once I settled in things improved, Professor Graves helped me see I was being too negative for my own good.”

His father looked pleased at that.

“That’s good,” he smiled. “Graves is one of the top aurors in America, it was startling for people when he decided to teach and at Durmstrang. But I think he said something along the same lines as you, that learning dark magic inside and out would only benefit him in the future.”

Only Theseus was left looking worried.

Newt wasn’t surprised when his brother found him later in the week, hanging over the back of the couch Newt was settled on reading.

“It’s truly not that bad?”

Newt shook his head.

“It feels so strange to say it, but I think I fit in better there than I did in Hogwarts. Not that either school is more or less than the other but I’m learning so much with Professor Vulchanova. Professor Graves looks out for me too, but no one really bothers me anymore.”

Theseus huffed but came around to slump in the couch with Newt, pulling him into a one armed hug.

“If you think it’s best.”

“I think I’ll make it the best it can be.”


“My, did I miss you doll,” professor Graves greeted him when they were alone, pressing hungry kisses to Newt’s mouth. He returned them eagerly, feeling young and fumbling as he pressed against the older more skilled man.

Dinner had been wonderful, Elias and Erik had sat with him and talked happily about their holidays. Newt had spoken of his own and both boys were keen to hear about his father and his brother, an auror and auror in training. Newt tried to recall everything Theseus had mentioned about his lessons and promised to write and ask for more. Most of the other boys around him had plans to try for careers as aurors and were very keen on the information.

Others had stopped to greet him, patting his back or mussing his hair.

Everyone was happy Sötnos was back. Newt was used to the name now, answering to it without thought. A teacher had even referred to him by it, not seeming to know what it meant.

Now Newt was in professor Graves’ classroom, settled on the edge of the desk, kissing the man eagerly, hungry for the taste of him.

“Scamander?” Vulchanova’s voice called and he started.

Graves huffed a sigh, stepping back.

“She spent days grumbled about you leaving, having to do all her own grunt work again. Go, she’ll not be satisfied until you’ve done the work again.”

Newt felt his heart jump that the man was forgiving, not only wanting sex from Newt, but willing to wait a bit.

“Come here,” Graves motioned and Newt went, peering over his bookshelf as the professor pulled a few books and handed them to him.

“There you are,” Vulchanova called as the door creaked open. “What are you two doing?” She asked with a great frown and professor Graves snorted.

“What do you think?” He teased the woman; winking at Newt and chuckled when he burned bright red.

Vulchanova seemed satisfied though, coming over to look over the books with Newt.

“A personal collection? You’ve never mentioned this,” she accused the other professor who shrugged.

“Most know spells to read any language but it is a bit easier to read English.” He admitted and Newt nodded.

“If I lose focus on the translation spells sometimes the words jumble.”

The magizoologist groused at them about being lazy but looked through the books herself. When she pulled an older book professor Grave frowned.

“I lend them to our boy because he takes care of them. You’re not taking that. Some badger monkey will rip it up.”

Newt fought a chuckle as Vulchanova glared at him, tucking the book under her arm and looking at the man as if daring him to take it back.

“She spells her books, so the creatures leave them be,” Newt confessed and Graves looked appeased.

“Should have let him worry, I wanted to see if he’d try for it.” She said with a shake of her head.

“Come along Scamander, we’ve work to do. I was sent a batch of eggs with no labels or any clue what any of them are. Some raid of something. A hippogriff chick as well.”

“Really! My mum works with hippogriffs, I’m experienced with them. Have you categorized the eggs yet? Some would be obvious,” Newt couldn’t help but feel excited, following the woman out but glancing back at Graves who offered him a charming smile and wink.

“Best be careful with that one,” Vulchanova warned him once they were down the hall. Her tone wasn’t judging, but it was knowing. Newt flushed and nodded his head.


He spent his first night back making a proper hippogriff nest with the chick watching, piling hay and grass and rolling in it, turning this way and that. He selected broken pieces to toss and ripped up an old blanket to fill in rough spots. Vulchanova watched him work and it was a bit silly feeling but utterly worth it when the chick crawled into the nest and slumped over, giving a great full body sigh as it immediately fell asleep.

“They refuse to sleep outside the nest you see,” Newt offered, smiling at the sweet beast as it dozed.

“We’ll treat her, she’s too thin. Get some weight on her and then send her to your mother, she has herds that would accept the chick?”

Newt nodded.

“I can’t write her right away because to the student restrictions but if you sent her an owl she’d be fine with it, she’s very passionate about hippogriffs.”

Newt helped sort the eggs, making sun lamps for some, placing others exactly three feet into the dirt, wrapping a few in seaweed and submerging them. Vulchanova directed him, teaching him the minuscule differences between each one.

The hippogriff woke scared and Newt ended up curling in the nest with her, petting her neck absently, mimicking a parent’s wing pulled over her.


“-Might cut your own cock off by the end of it,” Vulchanova’s gruff voice woke Newt, sunlight and birds singing amidst her threats.

“Point taken,“ professor Graves sound more amused than anything. “Are you awake now?”

Newt blinked at him, feeling his hair standing askew as he yawned and the hippogriff chick snuggled against him.

“You have class in less than half an hour, you best wash up and get something to eat.”

“Oh,” Newt awoke then, shaking off his sleepiness as he gently removed himself from the chick and got up.

“Thank you, sir,” he offered quickly, hurrying to his room to change, pulling off his dirt and hay covered uniform and slipping into the extra one. Newt washed his face in a hurry, almost running to the main halls to grab a bit to eat.


“Sötnos, we thought a dragon might have taken you!” Erik called and Newt smiled.

“A hippogriff actually,” he replied, settling into a seat and grabbing leftover bread and juice. Hurrying to eat as the great clock loomed close to class time.

“Don’t choke,” Vili teased.

“He never does,” Elias winked and Newt nearly sputtered, face burning red.


Newt was kept busy all day, rushing to his classes, picking up new texts and writing down notes and expectations. Vulchanova called him back right after class, Newt staying with the chick all week as she latched on to him, only eating from his palm and only sleeping properly when he was near. Newt looked after her and minded the eggs, a viper hatching early and Newt fumbling to stuff mice down its hungry little mouth.

“More?” it asked and Newt shook his head. “Let those digest a bit first, you’ll be sick,” he warned her. The viper curled in his uniform pocket, content to settle and hiss.

The runespoor came along not long after, handing out worldly advice to the infant snake.

The hippogriff just watched it all curiously, wide-eyed and trusting Newt absolutely. Sleeping in a nest each night did leave him with a sore back but it was worth it the first time the chick stood up on her own strength, trotting around on shaky legs.

Newt called her Hannah and the viper he named Rose. When she curled up into a ball, her red scales reminded him of a rose in full bloom.

“Be mindful of her,” Vulchanova warned him. “Red Blood vipers are a dangerous sort, a bad bite from her can be catastrophic to a wizard.”

“I know,” Newt agreed calmly. “She knows too, we’re working on only biting what we eat. But the runespoor is a terrible influence, that one head always suggesting she bite everything.”

Vulchanova frowned at him thoughtfully. “What do they sound like? Intelligent or more like children?”

Newt tilted his head in consideration. “The runespoor is like adults and Rose is like a child, young but learning quickly, faster than a human child I think.”


On Sunday, Newt went to meet Graves early, finding him waiting in his classroom. Newt smiled in relief, the door shutting by the man’s magic as Newt met him by the student desks. Graves took him by the waist and lifted Newt onto the edge of the table, kissing him roughly as Newt winded his arms around his neck eagerly.

“Damn Vulchanova chased me off every time,” he grumbled and Newt smiled, bright and warm as he kissed the man and felt his hands all over Newt, squeezing and exploring him.

“Have you knelt for anyone yet?”

Newt shook his head.

“No time,” he admitted and the professor nodded.

“You’ve a true talent with those creatures.”

Newt smiled, scooting off the edge of the table to go down on his knees, looking up at the man.

“Shall we see if you recall?” Graves teased, rubbing Newt’s mouth as he undid his trousers.

Newt gulped him down and sucked the man off three times that day. They got no dueling work done, pawing at one another instead. Newt sucked him off and the professor face fucked him again, without the cream this time. Newt still gagged but he had much more control now, able to take it so much better.

He pulled off with a whimper, frothy spit running down his chin, tears on his cheek, Newt felt used and delicious. Graves looked at him like he was something wonderful and it made Newt feel like maybe he was.


With Hannah stabilizing and no longer needing around the clock care, Newt’s days fell back into rhythm.

His first night back in proper bed was spent with Vili, Mihail and Erik all vying for his attention. Newt sucked them all off twice, kneeling on the floor and swallowing semen. It was almost relaxing the rhythm of a cock in his mouth moving, sucking at it steadily.

Elias, Iosif and Constantin all came around looking for him as well, only Otso never asking to be sucked off. But he never treated Newt meanly, some boys seemed angry that Newt was so willing for other boys. Professor Graves and Elias both reassured him they were merely jealous or upset because they couldn’t let themselves enjoy such things.

There were others, boys in Newt’s year or older, asking him to come study in their rooms or grabbing his hand to lead him into a private corner. Newt went, willing to please.

His potions class was taught by a rather uptight man, Professor Dumitru. He was rather strict, but when he began his lessons his focus was on his potion completely and so many boys did homework for other classes and the like, never getting caught.

Newt sat near the back, in the beginning it had been the only space available but now he sat between two boys willingly. Anton liked potions and Lukas was usually bored but doing well in the class. Both of them helped Newt now, sometimes his translations not enough to fully understand the instructions. The books in the schools were all in various languages from northern Europe with few in English. So Newt learned the spells to translate and was slowly picking up the languages. The ring Professor Graves helped him a great deal. When he touched the pages the English would float over the foreign words. Despite all of that though, he had struggled a bit until the boys had begun assisting him. Anton would explain the potion properly to him, the boy speaking flawless English and knowing his potions thoroughly.

“See here, you add it grinded down first, let it dry a touch,” he explained softly, Newt nodding his head, biting his lip with a red face. The potion was easy today and so the other boy currently had Newt’s hand around his prick. Anton gave nothing away, their hands hidden under the table, Newt leaned in to listen to him.

Lukas was watching them with a sly smile, touching himself as well.

“Then you mix in the powder,” Anton was making both his own and Newt’s potions, working easily as Newt slowly jerked him off under the table. They were all on one long bench and Newt could feel Lukas’ foot rubbing along his leg.

Anton glanced up at the professor, watching the man concentrate; he was making four of the same potions at once, utterly focused. Leaning back, he reached out and took Newt’s neck, pushing his head down to his lap.

Humiliated but utterly turned on, Newt went. He sucked the other boy’s prick down fervently, sealing his lips and trying to be silent at he worked.

Someone spilled a potion ingredient on another table and Newt tried to move up but Anton’s hand on his neck held him tight. A few urgent thrusts and Newt had a mouth full of come.

Sitting back up, he wiped his mouth, face red as Lukas muffled a laugh. Professor Dumitru glanced up at them, frowning but ultimately going back to his work.

“You’re a wonder,” Lukas chuckled, smirking at Newt as he rubbed a tiny bit of spit off the corner of his mouth. “Come sit closer by me, Anton has your potion almost done,”

Newt went.


It became a game that Anton and Elias both enjoyed immensely, guiding Newt’s hand under tables so he was jerking them off. Classrooms, the library, even the great hall during dinner one time.

It was embarrassing, but in a strange way fun, a bit of a thrill. No one ever spoke up about it, no student giving them away and no professor catching them.

“You sneaky thing,” Professor Graves laughed when he told him, utterly amused. “Dumitru had mentioned he suspected something but he thought they might be bullying, certainly not you sucking them off.”

The older man ran a finger under the curve of Newt’s chin, lifting his face. He did so when he wanted Newt to try to meet his gaze and so he obliged, glancing up at Grave’s face properly for a moment.

“I was thinking of bringing you this weekend, if you would like.”

“Bringing me?”

“I’m heading into the local village to pick up supplies. We don’t let students there but we do bring a few along to help pack and carry the supplies.”

“I don’t think I’d be a very good packer?”

“No. But you’d know what Vulchanova would want, she writes ridiculous orders and no one ever fills them to her expectations. She’d like you going, I’d imagine.”

“Oh, I think she had mentioned this before.” Newt replied, thinking of the old woman bitterly complaining once a month for days about messed orders. “It would be nice to have the right feeds instead of having to use the wrong ones and make due.”

“Such cheek,” Graves told him sternly but his eyes were warm.

“Under that excuse we can bring you along. The supply store for such things is run by an old cankerous man but I think you might sweeten him up. Might even get a bit extra for your beasts?”

Newt flushed but nodded, unsure but trusting his professor.


Vulchanova had enthusiastically agreed with Newt going, even though she seemed to know something more was going on with Graves asking to bring him.

“You don’t let him use you now,” she warned him, a bony finger waving. Newt nodded his head obediently and took the long list she offered to him. “Now, get as much as you can from this, the best quality they have as well. I’m bloody sick of shit quality feed. See if anyone has monkey brains as well, a Swooping Evil might be coming for a visit soon.”

Elias and another boy were the other two, both large built young men more than capable of any heavy lifting.

“Personally I think magic would do just fine, but I’m not going to argue,” Elias mentioned lightly as they made their way down in an old wood carriage, the shutters closed tightly to keep their location hidden.

“It’s a reward mostly and usually a test, to see what students do with the freedom.” Professor Grave revealed easily, looking through an extensive checklist.

“What so they usually do?”

“Sneak out to the bar if they’re foolish. If they’re wise they sneak out to the brothel across from the bar.”

Newt blinked, glancing over to the other boys. They would arrive late and stay the night, rising early to pick up the orders and supplies and then return to the castle late in the evening.

“Are you going to try for the bar or the brothel?” Newt asked lightly and Elias grinned brightly.

“Brothel of course.”

Professor Graves snorted.

“Best be careful on that, many a student has found out about a bastard child years after, more so if they're from the wealthy families.”

Elias shrugged. “My family is rather poor and I’ve no plans for becoming famous anytime soon.”

Graves shook his head but didn’t bother to warn him a second time.

“Be ready at seven tomorrow or you’ll have detention for the rest of the year.”

There were two rooms booked at the little inn in the village. It was a sleepy place hidden under mounds of snow. A bit like Hogsmeade but with fewer shops catering to students.

Elias offered Newt a wicked wink when he and the other student were sent to one room and Newt was to go with the professor.

“Seriously, seven am downstairs and ready to head out,” Graves warned them both sternly. “Don’t bother going to your room,” he sighed when they turned towards the stairs. “Just go, don’t do anything dumb, if I’m called to look after you, I’ll make your life hell.” He spoke so matter of factly, like there was no doubt in him that he could do so. Both boys nodded and then took off out the front door.

“Will they be ok?”

“There’s nothing here for them to get into trouble with. The bar won’t serve them and the brothel won’t either unless they can pay up front. Beyond that all of the shops are closed for the night.”

Graves started up the stairs and Newt followed him.

“Most likely they’ll end up back here trying to wheedle a drink from the innkeeper.”

Newt watched him send the suitcases into the two rooms and then blinked when he turned right back around.

“Let's eat and go over these order lists. It’s going to be a pain tomorrow to try and keep this all straight.”

Newt nodded.

“No worries, you’ll get what you want as well,” Graves told him in a low tone with a wink.

Newt flushed all the way back into the main room of the inn. The food was decent and warm, both of them eating as they went through all of the various things ordered and ready to be picked up, or the things that need to be bought. Every professor was given a budget and so they all had lists written with varying specifications.

“I try to get out of this usually, something will get screwed up and some professor will be pissed at me for a week. They can order most things in if they wanted, but few are willing to wait months. The smart ones just buy in massive bulk each semester.”

“Well, at least it won’t be Vulchanova that’s mad this time,” Newt offered and the older man flashed him a smile.

“Small mercies,” he agreed.


Newt ended up spread out on the bed, his body stripped completely naked for once. Messing around in classrooms meant that they were usually partially clothed at all times. The professor’s rooms were charmed to keep students out and the student dorms were charmed to record any professor entering them.

So Newt felt a bit exposed as he was, laid out on the bed nude with a clothed Graves looming over him. But his rough hands explored his pale skin, rubbing Newt’s nipples and trailing down his sides, curling under him to cup his backside and then run down his thighs.

“Look at you, a freckled little beauty. The boys must stare in the showers,” he mused and Newt felt flushed and blissful.

“No, I don’t think so,” he answered and his professor scoffed at him.

“You are delightfully naive my dear, I imagine you don’t even realize how many of the students stare at you during meals, tongues panting practically.”

Newt bit his lip as Graves leaned down to lick his nipple, tongue rubbing and then teeth pulling lightly. It felt strange but in a good way, an excited tingle at the warm wet mouth on him.

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Not by much, you are a gorgeous thing,” the man smiled warmly at him, touching Newt’s face. “So pretty with those high cheekbones and full lips, stunning eyes and copper hair. So slim and smooth. Look at these freckles,” he leaned down to rain kisses on Newt’s neck and shoulder.

“I can understand why those boys chase you, I’ve seen them pulling you into corners. Do you suck cock every night darling? Your roommates coming around eagerly?”

Newt blushed because he was right, he usually did suck all three boys off each night. Sometimes in the mornings too.

Graves clever hands ran along Newt’s erection, teasing it as he rubbed a finger over the slit, coaxing it to drip readily.

“Spread your thighs,” he commanded and Newt obeyed. The man sat up, kneeling between Newt’s spread thighs. He reached out a hand and his wand from the table came floating over. He plucked Newt’s belt off of the headboard as well, bending the leather over in two strips.

“There are charms here to prevent silencing spells. In case someone is in danger. So you need to be silent.” He pressed the leather to Newt’s mouth and he opened it, biting down on the belt. “We both know you can get noisy,” he teased.

“We’re going to try some new things tonight,” Graves explained, tapping his wand on Newt’s thigh and muttering a cleaning spell. He jerked a bit, feeling it…between his thighs, up inside him.

Newt was no stranger to sex, boys had asked him if they could fuck him but he had always denied them. If anyone would have him, it would be his professor first and foremost he decided.

The older man dropped a kiss on Newt’s brow before sliding down, his warm tongue tracing lazy lines on his skin as he moved down.

Clutching the bed, Newt whined when he kissed Newt’s cock, nuzzling his balls and then going lower.

His tongue felt wet and bizarre on Newt’s hole, a new sensation. But after a few swipes, the pleasure of it began to squirm through him.

Newt bit down on the belt, huffing for breath as the man rimmed him. His tongue making lazy circles and then flicking over the center, pressing in insistently. It felt amazing really, Newt’s hips rolling as he pressed back on the man’s face.

A finger came next, tracing over Newt’s hole and then pushing gently. He could feel his body open up, letting it in. Graves lifted his head briefly to call something from his bag and then his finger was startlingly cold, something coating it as he pressed in again.

“Easy doll,” the man reassured him, kissing the inside of his thigh as he worked his finger to the knuckle.

“We’re going to get you nice and open. Then I’m going to fuck you darling. Does that sound good?”

Newt nodded his head frantically, gripping the sheets as the man fingered him.

They had played with this before, Newt had been fingered by his professor a few times and he’d done it to himself in his bed at night. But this was so much more, not just for fun, but for preparation.

The second burned a bit but he relaxed into it, used to taking them. The third was the hardest, his body wanting to tense up but Newt bit down on his belt and spread his thighs wider. He realized weakly that he was making sounds, whimpering.

When he glanced down, Graves was watching him, smirking as Newt flushed hotly.

“Look at you, I can’t decide what I like more, your gorgeous face so desperate or the sight of your pretty pink hole taking my fingers.”

Newt whined, the belt muffling it.

“I’ve been waiting for months now, trying to casually arrange this, a situation where I’d have you on a bed. I’m not some heathen, to fuck you for your first time over a desk. Pretty thing like you deserves better.”

His breathing stuttered, chest heaving as three fingers twisted inside him, opening and stretching his hole more and more. The kind words twisting him up as well, making Newt feel adoration for his professor.

“You’re going to feel amazing,” Graves mused with a pleased smile, sitting up now. He moved his fingers a bit harder, sliding them quicker and the friction on Newt’s hole felt unexpectedly good, something in him jerking with pleasure at each stroke in a way that they hadn’t quite found before. His back arched off the bed, feet slipping on the sheets as he pushed into the motions.

Graves chuckled warmly above him.

“Look at you, so eager for it, I think you’ll like fucking. I’m excited to have you ride me regularly, so we can both properly enjoy it.”

Newt wanted to protest, he liked sucking the man off, but then his fingers felt so good, Newt’s mind muddled. The idea of feeling like this every day was both exciting and daunting.

The older man arranged himself over Newt, leaning down to kiss his brow, making Newt’s heart pound. He could feel the length of the professor’s cock brush against his thigh and couldn’t imagine it would fit inside him.

But then Graves was pulling the belt from his mouth and kissing him more, opening his mouth and Newt was trembling, raising a hand to hold onto the man’s arm as warm fingers wrapped around his prick. Newt gasped, breaking the kiss, whimpering as the man stroked him. Newt could feel his body tensing up to release right away.

Graves rolled them suddenly, Newt sitting on top of him now, tangling their limbs. The hand on his prick kept moving and Graves other hand cupped his backside, finger brushing over his hole.

Newt came with a whine, mouth hanging open as he felt that one of a kind rush of pleasure. He could feel the man pressing, pushing at his arse and Newt felt him work his way in. Much wider than a finger though, he shivered as the man breached him, easing his cock into Newt as he came down from his orgasm.

“Don’t go tense,” the professor told him, pulling Newt down to kiss him again, sloppy touches of his warm tongue as Newt could feel him push a bit more into him. Doing his best not to tighten his muscles, he let the older man slowly ease him back onto his first cock.

Newt broke the kiss again, panting for no real reason as he sat up shakily, feeling the fullness inside him. He felt opened up and almost exposed, this depraved part of him in full view. It was silly, Newt sucked cocks all the time, but this felt like so much more. Graves stroked his thighs gently, not rushing him as Newt got used to the stretch. When he tried to move, sitting up slowly and slumping back down a touch, he made an embarrassing high noise. The friction felt amazing, his insides pulled and pushed with every little motion.

Grave chuckled warmly, and Newt blinked down at him as he pressed the belt back into Newt’s mouth. Clenching his teeth into the spit soaked leather, Newt rolled his hips again. Sitting back and trying different motions, tensing his thighs so he could bounce.

Everything felt good, but when he sat forward just right, his weight resting on Grave’s broad chest; Newt’s body lit up like a spell being cast, a sudden spark of wonderful good.

Newt had no idea when the man had undone his trousers, he was still fully dressed with Newt naked and riding him, exploring the new sensation.

Gripping the belt he moaned, tugging at his professor’s shirt, undoing the vest buttons. The man chuckled and magic undid the lot suddenly, the vest and shirt falling open and Newt was delighted to discover his skin.

He was surprisingly scarred, markings along his body from his years as an auror. Newt had a few of his own from working with beasts but nothing like the battle scars the man wore. They suited him, made him even more handsome and Newt sobbed in his throat, eyes clenching closed as something amazing rolled through him. He fumbled to shove down faster, wanting to move harder, wanting more of the pleasure.

Graves’ calloused hands gripped his hips and dug in, yanking Newt down as he drove up. It felt delightful and Newt cried out, teeth barely holding the belt as he slapped himself down harder.

A warm caress of magic touched his prick. Newt’s eyes jerked open as he felt it, the hands on his hips holding firmly as magic teased along his cock, the ghost of a feeling. Fingers teasing the tip and trailing under the length, something like fingernails digging light, scratching just a bit.

Newt nearly fell forward when he came again, too close to the first time and draining him out as he whimpered.

Letting go of the belt, he panted for air, spit hanging from his open mouth as the wet belt fell on the man’s bare chest.

“Look at you, such a darling boy,” his professor praised and Newt keened softly, so desperately in love with this man, this older charming professor who taught and complimented him so generously.

He rolled them again, slowly this time, cradling Newt’s head and holding his hip so he stayed on the man’s cock.

“Just take it now doll, just lay back and let me fuck you,” he kissed Newt’s mouth, licked the spit on his lip. Arms braced and holding him up as he began to thrust into Newt.

And it was wonderful, feeling the man’s body move rather than his own, just laying under him, legs spread wide in offering. Newt would always offer, every single time, to this man.

Graves kissed his face, licking at his skin, nipping his jaw and sucked on his neck, his body moving harder and harder. It felt almost impossible how rough he was going, how fast he was slamming in and in. Newt clutched at his broad shoulders moaning too loud as he reveled in his first time.

Tears burned in his eyes, everything too much, overwhelming him as Graves fucked him mercilessly, slamming into Newt and growling against his neck.

A hard bite and a positively savage thrust came right before he went stiff, hips twitching as he buried himself as deep as he could in Newt.

His chest was heaving, shoulders shaking in a way Newt knew meant he was coming.

After a long moment they slumped back into the bed, Graves pulling out of Newt and rolling beside him. He was still panting, running a hand through his messy hair. He usually looked so put together but right then he looked like he had just finished a day of hard labor, worn out. Something about that felt deeply satisfying to Newt.

Graves reached over and pulled Newt onto his side, curling him close.

“Did you like that love?”

Newt nodded his head, feeling shy suddenly and then feeling silly for it. Graves didn’t seem to mind, huffing slightly and using wandless magic to bring his wand over to him. He muttered a spell and the damp sheets under them were dry, the sweat clinging to Newt’s skin vanishing.

The lights went down low and a warm hand curled in his hair.

“Let’s sleep, if we can get a decent night's rest perhaps we’ll wake early and I’ll have you again?”

Red-faced, Newt nodded.

He felt calm and at ease, body slumped against another and for once not tense or worried. Newt felt a bit like he was floating and he wasn’t sure what to think of it. All he knew was he liked it, liked feeling so content, happy to lay against the older man and feel his body warmed by the heat of another person, feeling the soothing motions of Graves’ breathing as he fell asleep.

Newt wondered if this was what it felt like to love someone.


They woke early enough to have another round of sex. Graves fucking Newt lazily, going easy on his backside he told him.

“We’ll get you a potion at the shop, to make sure you’re not uncomfortable on the ride back.” The man promised him and Newt wasn’t sure he wanted it. He did ache a bit but nothing terribly and he liked it a little. Liked feeling the after effect of having sex for the first time. His virginity given away in a sleepy town somewhere in Sweden, to a dashingly handsome auror professor.

He could feel the seep of semen inside him as well, clenching down on it as they met the boys in the hall and went to collect the supplies.

“A teacher, Sötnos, such daring,” Elias teased and Newt flushed red. He was terrible at lying but he didn’t agree outright, not wanting to put the professor in a position to be in trouble. At sixteen, Newt was of the age of consent, but they were still a student and teacher.

“You two, load the carriage up,” Graves commanded when they arrived with the carriage at the back of a shop. Elias and the other boy obeyed, a shop keep coming around to help them. There was a truly staggering amount of packages waiting, boxes of all sizes, a few crates even.

“This pile can be shrunk down, this can’t. The carriage boot is charmed to fit everything. Can you handle it?” He looked at the boys and they both nodded their heads.

“Good, you,” he looked to Newt. “Will come with me. We’ll go pick up the potions and additional supplies. I can’t even imagine the list Vulchanova gave you.”

Newt smiled shyly, intent on doing a good job for the magizoologist professor.


The shop keep was an older man with streaks of gray in his hair, his face was cold and stoic looking. He barely looked at either of them as he snatched the lists and waved his wand, boxes and packages floating from shelves to the counter top.

“Our young one here was sent by his professor to get that list, while still staying within the budget allowed,” Graves mentioned lightly and the other man scoffed.

“You’re a damn fool Percival Graves, if you think I’ll let you rob me in such a way.”

“Come now, Isak, you think I would do such a thing?”

The older man grunted, turning to frown at the packages piling up, two different piles, one with all of the things Vulchanova had requested he return with. Looking at the pile, it was clear it was a lot, the rarity of some of the things surely making them cost much more.

Newt glanced worriedly at the gruff shopkeep and froze to see him looking at Newt with a strange sort of interest.

“What does that little brothel have? Three whores? I imagine not very pretty or young in a remote place like this.”

“The farmers and miners all come through here for supplies,” the shopkeeper defended, but his gaze remained on Newt.  

“I’m not no monster, fucking children,” he finally spat and Graves chuckled.

“He’s not a child,” Graves reached out to take Newt’s wrist and guide him closer. The door behind them clicked with a lock and the curtained closed, Graves’ magic doing it all.

“This darling is of age, sixteen, almost seventeen,” he coaxed, tipping Newt’s chin up and rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip.

“He badly wants to impress his professor and bring everything on the list she demanded. He wants to follow in her field you see, so impressing her means everything to him,” Newt’s professor chuckled, pulling him in closer so Newt was in front of him, Percival’s hands tipping his tucked head up for the man across the counter to inspect.

“I can guarantee you he has a delightful mouth, sucks half the damn school every day.”

It was humiliating, to see this cold man watching him, to hear Graves talk of him like that. But Newt was hard in his trousers, positively throbbing.

“Doll,” Graves whispered in his ear, making Newt tremble. “Tell this nice man you’ll let him fuck your face, he can use you and come down your pretty throat, if he’ll let you have your supplies at half price.”

Newt felt tears burn in his eyes but he nodded, biting his lip.

“You have to say it,” Graves coaxed and Newt whimpered, feeling the man’s warm hand slide and cup his backside.

“P-please,” he managed to whisper and the man across the counter grunted.

“Fuck, Percival, you must enjoy your pick of them. Fine, bring him round back.”

The man marched off and Newt leaned against his professor.

“Are you ok darling?” He asked sweetly and Newt nodded weakly. “You don’t actually have to if you don’t want. I thought you might enjoy it though, sucking so good you can actually buy things by doing it.”

“Like a w-whore,” Newt mumbled, degraded but turned on horribly. Graves knew it too, smirking and rubbing Newt’s erection through his trousers.

“Just like a whore,” he agreed.


Newt shakily got on his knees in the backroom.

Graves stood in the doorway to the front keeping an eye on the shop counter as the man, Isak, undid his pants. He was still flaccid, his cock hanging limply as he pulled Newt’s head toward it. His hands were rough, uncaring about Newt.

It was exciting but a touch frightening. With Graves there though, Newt was willing to go along, certain the man would protect him if needed.

“School slut are you? You look like one, mouth like a cock sucker,” he grunted at Newt, rubbing the head of his soft cock over Newt’s face, along his cheek and over his nose.

“Come on then, lick my balls, little bitch.”

Newt obeyed, meekly licking over the man’s sack, getting it wet with his spit and then licking up the cock as it slowly lengthened. Sucking at it, he pressed sloppy kisses to the loose skin and slipped the head into his mouth. Before he could suck it properly, the man was shoving in roughly. His hands gripped Newt’s hair tightly as he rammed into Newt’s throat, his cock growing fully erect.

He was big and as the man grunted, Newt choked, mouth hanging open and tears burning in his eyes. He gagged over and over but the man kept going. Ramming all the way down and holding himself there as Newt squirmed and cried softly.

“Not bad,” he muttered, staring down at Newt as he pulled back and his cock came free, spit clinging to the length as he rubbed it on Newt’s face again, smearing his own spit on his skin as he sobbed softly.

“You’d make a good whore, you have that look, an innocent but filthy look,” he told Newt.

He pushed the head of his prick back into Newt’s mouth and he braced himself this time as the man yanked him by the hair, forcefully moving Newt as he pleased. He rammed at his face, slapping his balls on Newt’s chin as he savagely fucked. Newt gripped the edge of his uniform and just tried to take it, eyes closed as the man pounded his throat.

Isak liked holding his cock all the way in, waiting until Newt couldn’t help but gag, shoulders heaving as tears kept coming. Thick frothy spit hung down his chin, dribbling on the floor as Newt heaved in air each time the man pulled off to rub his cock on Newt’s face and hair. Spit make his skin wet and shiny, tears mixing as his hair clung to his face with sweat.

“I can see why you like him, Percival,” the man groaned as he slammed at Newt’s face again, pulling him off with a fist in his hair, tipping his head back.

“Jerk me off, little whore,” he snarled.

Newt fumbled to do so, hands trembling as he wrapped them around the soaked erection, pumping it back and forth as the man shoved into the feeling.

Breathing harder and tipping his head back as he did let Newt know the man was coming. White long streaks hitting his face, spurting over and over. The man nudged the tip of his cock so the last bit went into Newt’s open mouth.

“Percival,” the man grunted and Graves moved, pulling his own cock free and Newt blinked up at him, one eye was force closed, stinging with semen in it. His professor didn’t hesitate or take long, stroking himself furiously and then coming with a harsh sound, white streaks on Newt’s face as well, aiming for his mouth and filling it up.

“Show him,” Graves directed and Newt tipped his head so the other man could see the mouthful.

“A right cock whore that is,” the shop keep snorted, tucking himself into his pants and going back to the front. The door and curtain flew open again as Graves tipped the back door closed to hide Newt.

“Are you alright darling?” Graves asked and Newt whimpered.

“Poor thing,” the man chuckled warmly as he knelt down in front of him. A warm hand slipped inside Newt’s trousers and he shoved into it, coming almost immediately, feeling so utterly filthy.

He wasn’t even surprised when Graves fed him his own semen, dragging what was on Newt’s face into his mouth so he could swallow it all down.

“You did perfectly,” he praised and his wand cleaned Newt’s face, his hair drying and the coating of spit and semen washing away. “Such a rough angry old man, undone by you,” he whispered with a conspiratorial wink and Newt smiled weakly.

“Come on then,” he helped Newt to his shaky feet and left an arm tight around his waist as they went to the front and collected the goods, paying for everything. The feeling of the man against him settled the unease in Newt, the humiliation fading as his professor anchored him.

Isak glared at them both a moment, staring at Newt’s mouth before looking back to his till.

“Bring him back around next month,” he grunted before turning away from them.

“Now that’s rare, that man asking to see someone again,” Newt’s professor whispered and Newt felt a tiny bit warmed by it. What he had just done had been degrading and terrible, he’d never felt so used before. But he had…liked it. His poor cock had been throbbing the entire time and Newt had wanted the man to use him even more, to fuck him and call him terrible things.

Certainly he was a sexual deviant.

Graves laughed in delight when Newt confessed as much.

“We both are then, watching that was amazing. We’ll play rougher if you’d like, I’ve no trouble calling you names. Now let’s stop at the inn and get some tea, honey will make your throat feel better.” Newt glanced up at his professor, thinking of how quickly he had come after watching that. He had enjoyed it as well. Perhaps they were well suited to one another in this.

“…I never realized your name was P-Percival,” Newt mentioned in the inn, sipping the warm tea down.

“No? Percival Graves, at your service,” the older man took Newt’s hand and offered a firm shake and a teasing wink.

“I am your professor so a first name basis would be inappropriate but when we’re alone, feel free to call me by it.”

Newt nodded, feeling a burst of warmth in his chest over such a silly thing.

“Newton is your proper name isn’t it? Everyone calls you Sötnos around the school, even a few professors.”

“I don’t mind it, there are worse things to be nicknamed really, my family calls me Newt actually as well.”

“Newt?” Percival tipped his head to peer at Newt. “You look more like a Sötnos, something sweet rather than a little lizard.”

Newt shrugged, smiling and unable to hide it as the older man smirked at him. Elias and the other boy met them at the inn and they all ate a full dinner before heading back out to the castle.

Ending up falling asleep against Percival’s shoulder, Newt drifted off to the man’s warmth and scent wafting around him.


Vulchanova was pleased with everything Newt brought back, not asking how they got it thankfully.

“You’ll have to escort that pervert regularly then, so we can have proper supplies,” She decreed. Newt was glad he had his back to her, packing things away. He didn’t doubt his face was showing his embarrassment, feeling it heat up quickly.

The eggs were developing nicely, and Newt took the time to turn those that need it. Magic could do it but it was better to do so by hand since any magic used would affect the infant within.

The hippogriff was excited to see him, nudging under his arm affectionately as the runespoor hissed its day at him. Newt made sure to give them all his attention and time, checking over each creature healing and spending some time with the permanent inhabitants as well.

“Don’t be late for dinner,” Vulchanova reminded him as she headed off and Newt meant to follow after her but the runespoor was very insistent that its third head was plotting against the other two. Newt had to talk them down from a fight, explained that one head less would likely kill them so two heads removed would certainly kill them. He has the feeling he’s warning the third head as much as reassuring the first and second.

Newt heard the odd rocking and went to investigate it as one of the eggs laid over a weak fire jumped and jerked.

It was a flame viper’s egg and it wasn't due to hatch for months yet. Rose coiled on the corner of the fireplace mantle, watching curiously as the runespoor came over to investigate as well.

“I think you’re supposed to take it off the heat,” one of the heads told him and Newt frowned.

“It’s too early for the egg to hatch,” he explained.

“I don’t think it knows that,” Rose offered.

Wishing Vulchanova was there, Newt followed the beasts advice and used his wand to coax the egg from the stones.

It cracked almost immediately, a tail poking from the hole.

Newt expected a snake to slither forward but the egg shivered before bursting, a tiny little white body revealed. Feeling a bit in awe, Newt leaned in as the baby dragon took its first wobbling steps. It crooned weakly and was looking for something, so Newt gently brushed bits of shell from it’s back as its wings unfolded. Its scales were shiny with fluid but they gleamed gorgeously. Eyes without pupils peer up at him and Newt realized what he has before him.

“An Antipodean Opaleye,” he breathed as the little darling stumbled into his lap, climbing up his knees with great huffs and then settling on his thighs with a deeply satisfied sound, curling up to sleep.

“Don’t dragons get big?” one of the runespoor heads asked curiously.


Vulchanova shakes her head when she returns and finds Newt trapped, unwilling to move with a baby dragon sleeping soundly on him.

“I’d thought it might be, their eggs can be tricky to recognize,” she peered down at Newt. “They imprint on birth you know. We’ll have to figure out some way for you to teach it, it’ll think you’re its mama now.”

She wrote him a pass to carry the dragon with him through the school. It needed to stay with Newt constantly, only accepting food from him and needing to eat every hour.

Students peered curiously at the gorgeous creature, while Newt wore a sling to carry his baby in and tried not to expose her too much to people. If they did this right, she might be able to return to the wild.

“You wrangle them and you raise them,” Erik huffed and Newt shrugged as he slipped a hand into the sling with a bit of meat. Eagerly, little Pearl gobbled it down.

At night his dragon would curl up on his pillow contently and sleep heavily, which allowed Newt to service his roommates. He still made time for Graves as well, they built a little nest in his classroom that Pearl slept in, and the professor charmed cat toys for her to waddle after. But when students tried to corner him between classes Newt refused.

“I’m sorry, I can’t. After Pearl is old enough to be on her own,” he promised various faces and some were disappointed or annoyed but most nodded. Almost half of them agreed if they could take a proper look at Pearl, peering into the sling curiously.

In the observatory, Pearl runs free some more, exploring cautiously and running to Newt if anything scares her. He smiled down at her as he draws her, documenting her size and weight each week, carefully making notes on her development so he can put together a paper about her afterward.

“How are the darling and her mama?” Percival asked when he managed to get into the observatory. Vulchanova had decided to ban him, and would be along shortly to demand he let Newt focus no doubt.

“She’s doing good! She grows so quickly, it’s amazing,” Newt rambled on, unable to bottle his enthusiasm. His professor listened to him patiently, asking questions and peering at his drawings.

“Vulchanova mentioned once that she thought dragons and snakes were linked. Have you been able to communicate with her?”

Newt shook his head.

“Not clearly yet, but she’s still so young. Dragons mature a lot slower than snakes you see,” he explained.

“Out!” Vulchanova made them both look up, Percival smirking as he leaned over Newt teasingly. The other professor glared at him, waving her stick threateningly until he stepped away. Hands raised in submission he chuckled and Newt fought a smile at his antics.

“Don’t forget to feed yourself as well, you’ve missed meals,” he reminds Newt and he blinked and nodded, realizing he had missed a few lunches.

“Eating is a basic function and you should be able to handle it,” Vulchanova warned him with a dark look that made him want to cringe. Newt nodded instead, keeping his back straight. She looked pleased with him for it. Durmstrang was changing Newt, teaching him that appearance was critical to making impressions. Vulchanova was teaching him that impressions could decide everything, whether he was given grants or jobs, whether he was trusted with creatures, if he was thought capable enough to look after them.

“A stoic air about you keeps the vultures away as well, less useless people prattling at you,” she grumbled. Newt privately thought that would be nice. He found that few people in the school stopped him without a reason. He was never late because he was chatting about pointless things. He found that during the summer his mother was constantly held up by people wanting to talk. She often said making a good impression was key but Vulchanova clearly was opposed and she was a respected magizoologist. Newt didn’t have to force himself to be social if he didn’t want to, didn’t have to stutter through conversations if he could merely keep his head held high.


“She’s not wrong,” Percival said simply. “First impressions carry weight, appearances can decide important things in political and social circles. While being a bit more social could help you, it’s clear you have a real talent at what you do. I’d say try to keep your head up and back straight but remain polite. It’ll win you more than Vulchanova’s attitude. I doubt you could tell me I was an idiot and to get the hell out anyway.”

Newt huffed and shook his head. “I think you right about that,” he admitted, petting Pearl’s head as she crooned on his lap.

“I have a gift for you,” the man announced with a smirk, reaching down to enlarge a small gift box, a pale blue cardboard box that was long but very shallow.

“What is it for?”

“Honestly? Mostly myself.”

Newt blinked in confusion but leaned forward to open the gift. They were settled together in his classroom on a lazy Sunday, two chairs pulled in close so they could talk. With a dragon to look after, Newt’s defense classes had mostly turned to discussions on theory. Throwing spells around was too dangerous, if Pearl wasn’t hurt she might grow too used to magic, and that would only endanger her later in life. So they would simply talk, about the fine line of dark magic and aurors using it themselves, about various scenarios and how to react in them.

If Pearl dozed off, not a light nap but a good heavy one, Newt would settle her on the desk and crawl into Percival’s lap. Riding the man was one of his favorite things, feeling the stretch and burn of being taken. Newt had continued to refuse other students, he would suck them but he reserved fucking for his professor alone.

“Darling boy,” Percival had muttered when he confessed it. The man gripping him tightly as he had rocked on his lap, the chair under them groaning.

They muttered all sorts of obscene things back and forth during sex so Newt was curious about what was in the box, lifting the lid and feeling his face warm at the set of lacy panties.

“You take care of them now, it wasn’t easy to get them ordered without anyone noticing, or to get them here without anyone seeing them,” the man explained with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“You poor t-thing,” Newt replied, managing a sly tone that made Percival grin out right.

“I couldn’t stop thinking of it, when I heard some students muttering about it.”

“Panties?” Newt asked in bewilderment.

“You, wearing them. The younger boys are rather taken with you, eager for their next year so they’ll be older and hopefully you’ll put your mouth on them.”

Newt’s face flushed red.

“You’re making this up,” he accused, petting his dragon and eyeing the pretty underwear.

“I’m not. There are sworn accounts of boys seeing you in pretty girls knickers and an ongoing belief that whichever team wins the quidditch cup get to gangbang you.”

The man looks delighted and Newt studies his face, looking for the lie and finding none. His face burns hotly.

“They t-think that about me?”

“They do, pretty Sötnos, the boy everyone wants. You’re the focus of fantasies.”

Newt shook his head, biting his lip and staring at the panties again.

“People talk about me,” he worried.

“Of course they do, they talk about everyone. Half the school is convinced Vulchanova is secretly a dragon and that’s why she likes you. Others are certain the headmaster sacrifices a student each year.”

“Those aren’t sexual, those are silly.” Newt wasn’t sure how he felt about this. He liked sex and he liked servicing the boys, but he didn’t want to be known for it suddenly. Didn’t want people whispering whore behind his back his whole life.

“People talk about me plenty, of any professor they want to sexualize, students as well. By rumor, I've fucked half the school. You must realize with what you do, students would talk?”

“I guess, I just…I don’t want people to think I’m just a w-whore.”

“Just a whore?” Percival laughed then, sitting back in his chair. “You really don’t realize it do you?”

Newt bit his lip nervously. “Realize what?”

Was he already just a school slut by rumor, the pretty boy only good for sucking cock? Newt couldn’t explain why the sudden thought bothered him so much, he had never minded doing it. Why did the idea of people talking trouble him abruptly?

“Doll, you’ve wrangled dragons and saved the school, you work with deadly beasts every day and carry a dragon around, you talk with snakes and you’ve the favor of the magical law and defense teacher and the magical beast teacher. People don’t think you’re just anything.”

Newt blinked, feeling a touch stunned.

“Oh,” he breathed, feeling emotional all of a sudden.

“Oh,” Percival echoed with a soft amused smile, he leaned forward and tipped Newt’s chin up. “You should keep your head held high Newt, you’ve already achieved great things and you’ll only achieve more along the road. If anyone ever talks down to you, names you a mere whore or belittles you for your sexual hunger, you ignore them. No one can shame you for what you choose to do, what you enjoy. Even if you were a whore in a brothel, with no talent with magical beasts, would you be less?”

Newt frowned, unsure of the answer. “I doubt a whore chooses to be one,” he finally offered and Percival shook his head.

“So that makes you a better person than them?”

“Of course not,” he replied immediately. “I didn’t mean it that way.” He frowned when he couldn’t find a way to explain it. When he examined the idea, he realized he did think himself better in a sense. Which wasn’t fair at all.

“Everyone lives a different life darling, we’ve all struggled in ways that are unique to only us. Others might be similar but no one is the exact same. We’ve all been born with different opportunities. Some more than others. Hogwarts is not a cheap school, neither is Durmstrang. That whore might be putting her child through their education by being a whore.”

Newt nodded, feeling chastised.

“I’ve never thought of it properly, the way people talk sometimes, it’s easy to forget you’re hearing someone’s opinion rather than the truth usually.”

“Exactly,” Percival leaned forward on his desk and reaching to flick a curl of Newt’s hair from his face.

“Are you ashamed to get on your knees for any boy who wants you?”

Newt deliberated it and shook his head. He sometimes felt shamed, degraded and used, but he liked those feelings, reveled in them during sex. Never to a level where it actually bothered him though, it never followed him passed the moment. When he thought of the shopkeeper, he usually ended up touching himself.

“Then why should rumors matter? You know you are more than just sex, you’re raising a dragon for merlin’s sake, you have conversations with runespoors as if their venom can’t kill you.”

“…You’re right. I’ve never thought about it like that. People might speak of one thing about me but it’s not all of me. Their opinions shouldn’t matter to me that much anyway, most people don’t have a say in my life.”

The older man nodded, sitting back in his chair.

“There will be people you’ll have to impress, and rumors that grow wild enough for people to actually start to believing can be dangerous, but in the end, only you decide what shames you, what makes you feel regret or disgrace.”

Newt peered at his dragon thoughtfully, Pearl sleeping peacefully.

“What disgraces you?” He asked the older man and Percival tipped his head in consideration.

“I try my hardest in my work, I hate failing or making simple mistakes. At times I might overlook factors and I fear I might slip up and that might cost someone their life one day. I was arrogant as a boy, usually thinking my family name should granted me more privilege than others, I regret that and I’m ashamed by it now. I once thought I knew everything but I’m older enough now to know I know barely a fraction of anything beyond myself.”

Newt peered at the man, watching him gaze off at nothing for a moment before looking back to Newt, their eyes locking.

“...I can honestly say this is not how I thought giving you panties would go,” he announced after a beat and Newt muffled a sudden laugh, trying not to wake Pearl as his shoulders shook with mirth.

“Perhaps when I don’t have a napping dragon on me things w-will go more along the line you planned.”

“I do hope so,” the man smirked and Newt smiled in return. His heart didn’t pound every time the man looked at him anymore. Instead, he just felt content, looking back at him without any nervousness, as if Percival was family, someone he had known for ages. Newt dreaded to think how this would all end, he couldn’t see his heart not being thoroughly broken. But until then, he would greedily take all the man offered him.

It occurred to Newt that he hadn’t thought of Leta since the beginning of the semester, everything happening take precedence in his mind. He had thought he might be a bit in love with her but it felt pale compared to how Percival made him feel. It scared him, how much he felt for the older man, how much he wanted to be around him for as long as he could.


“You shouldn’t have snuck along,” Newt mutters to Rose, the little viper grumbling in his pocket. Pearl was sleeping contently in her sling and Rose had decided she should be allowed to come with Newt as well if the dragon could. The viper was still a small thing but Newt didn’t have a pass for her and would be in trouble if anyone noticed her.

“Sötnos,” an older boy caught his arm, pulling Newt into a dark corner down the hallway.

“I can’t, I’m sorry. I’m late for class,” Newt told him absently, his mind already on the teacher that would be angry if he was even a moment’s late.

A hand pushed him back when he tried to walk away, pinning him to the wall. Newt turned his full attention to the other student. He was older and much bigger, a face that Newt didn’t know.

Which made no sense.

Durmstrang was not a large school like Hogwarts, so Newt knew almost all of the students or at least recognized them.

Peering at the young man, Newt realized he was hiding his identity with some sort of magic or charm.

“I need to g-go,” he announced more firmly and the student raised his wand, the pointed end right under Newt’s chin.

“You’ll not go anywhere. I’ve heard a great deal about you and I want to know if you’re as good as they say. You’ve not been fucked they say but I will have whatever I want.”

“Please let go,” Newt replied again, heart pounding with worry more than fear.

Pearl woke with a curious croon and when Newt moved to comfort her the wand dug harder into his skin.

“Please,” Newt asked once more and the student sneered, face twisting with a terrible glee.

When his hand reached to pull at Newt’s belt, Rose struck him.

Feeling sickened by the boy, Newt watched him pale immediately, wobbling as the venom pulsed into his blood.

“I did ask,” Newt breathed, watching the boy slump against the wall, his wand clattering to the floor.


Newt ran all the way to Percival’s classroom, the door banging open and the student’s twisting to look at him.

Percival frowned at him but said nothing, stalking over and closing the door so they were alone in the hall.

“What happened?” He asked, taking in Newt’s uniform, half pulled open and his wide scared eyes.


“What will happen to the boy?” The headmaster questioned.

“He’ll see the full extent of the law for attacking a fellow student,” Percival suggested. They were all in the headmaster’s office, Newt in a chair sipping a calming tea while Percival and Vulchanova stood beside him.

The headmaster was pacing the room, a great scowl on his face.

“You know what I meant,” the man growled.

“If he wakes, which he should as the venom was treated quickly, he’ll be a squib. Red Blood vipers’ venom destroys magical ability.” Vulchanova explained calmly, not the least bit remorseful.

“And he had this creature outside the observatory?”

“She s-snuck out, I was on my way to return her,” Newt explained and he felt the bony fingers of his professor squeeze on his shoulder. Vulchanova wore a grim expression but it was directed at the headmaster.

“The boy was attacked, he defended himself,” Percival calmly pointed out.

“He had a dangerous beast in his pocket and he claims he was attacked, all I have is a boy in the healing wing and another saying no was around to witness this attack.”

Newt felt a sudden dread fill him, realizing the man was right. It was Newt’s words against the other students when he woke.

“Shall I have Dumitru bring some veritaserum?” Percival sounded like doing such a thing would be disgusting and Newt glanced up at him. The man was glaring at the headmaster as well, neither professor seeming angry with Newt himself.

“Outrageous,” Vulchanova cut in before the headmaster could reply. “Scamander did nothing wrong, to make accusation only speaks to your personal prejudices.”

“He had a viper outside the allowed area.”

“He had a pass.”

Newt blinked, looking up at the older woman.

The headmaster snorted, but tapped his chin thoughtfully.

“A pass to allow the beast, like the dragon?”

Vulchanova nodded and her hand squeezed Newt’s shoulder hard when he would have spoken up to admit he had no such thing.

“You’re willing to vouch for him then? Both of you?”

Newt looked up as both his professors nodded without hesitation. His heart swelling as they defended him so fiercely.

“I’ve no doubt he’s telling the truth. He’s never been one to lie about such things and he may have a reputation but that’s no reason to doubt his claim,” Percival explained steadily. “Veritaserum will prove this.”

The headmaster waved his hand away at the suggestion this time.

“His professors vouch for him, his word will be taken in faith. The squib will be sent home once he recovers.”

Newt stumbled from the office between his teachers, Vulchanova leading them back to her observatory. Newt greeted an anxious Pearl, petting her smooth scales as she crooned and pressed up against him.

“What…happens now?” He asked hesitantly and Percival reached out to cup his face reassuringly.

“You feel better, don’t let anyone bother you, take time to recover from this assault.” Newt thought he should be more shaken with how the older man peered at him so worriedly. But he had known Rose was in his pocket, coiled up angrily the moment Newt realized he was in danger. He hadn’t doubted the viper would defend him and Pearl just being close to him would have deflected magic, her dragonhide known for it, powerful enough that people sitting near Newt in classes would have to move away a bit so their magic worked properly.

He had been in no real danger.

“Here,” Vulchanova waved a pass at him and Newt took it, a pass for Rose, dated the day before. “If anyone asks, you had it always.”

Newt nodded and Percival frowned fiercely.

“A truth spell will show the lie.”

“And then he will admit I told him to lie and I will deal with trouble. But no one will spell him for the truth. This matter will be swept away quickly, the headmaster cannot afford anything less.”

“Will Rose be ok?” Newt spoke up and the woman frowned at him.

“She’ll be fine, hers is a protected species, where is she?”

“I told her to hide somewhere, not to tell me where,” he admitted and Vulchanova chuckled, reaching to pat his chest lightly.

“Tell the runespoor to go find her and let her know she came come out, nothing will harm a creature in my care. I’ll see her released into the wild first.”


Percival walked Newt back to his rooms, the hallways empty as class was in session.

“Are you alright?” He asked Newt plainly and he nodded.

“I feel as if I should be more upset, but I knew I would be fine. I was more worried for Rose than anything.”

The older man chuckled, sounding a bit incredulous.

“You would focus on your beasts,” he huffed, pausing down a narrow hall that was cut off and hidden. He reached out and cupped Newt’s face again, leaning in to press a light kiss to his brow.

“Are you truly alright darling?”

“Y-yes, I won’t let that brute’s action linger. Honestly, students that are my friends now hurt me worst in the beginning of the year. Beating me up. I know what he wanted was terrible, but I knew he wouldn’t get it. Other students have made remarks and Erik and Elias have always reacted strongly to them, starting fights or making accidents happen to warn them off.”

“Good lads.”

“It’s a bit silly, but here where the rules seem to lax compared to Hogwarts, I think I feel safer than I did there. With so many people looking out for me.”

Percival nodded, his thumb rubbing Newt’s cheek absently as he inspected his face for any signs of some hidden distress.

“Alright, take the day off none the less, rest and relax for a bit.”

“I thought I might get some books and settle in the observatory for the day,” Newt admitted and Percival nodded.

He walked Newt right to his dorm room, peering around the shared room with mild curiosity. While Newt gathered his books the older man pulled his wand and tapped the wooden door, charming it with something Newt didn’t understand.

“What was that?”

“A spell to prevent those with ill will from entering.”

“I doubt Erik, Vili, or Mihail, will let them passed either,” Newt pointed out and Percival glanced at the other beds.

“True enough, come, I’ll take you back to the observatory.”

Vulchanova kept an eye on him in her own way as well, asking Newt to do some chore every now and again, watching him work for a moment before satisfied he was fine.

“I thought you a weak little thing when I met you, so shy and whimpering. But then you faced down a dragon and fought off an attacker with such a calm certainty. You’re much stronger than I expected,” she told him and Newt flushed under the high praise.

His back tingled walking to the great hall, Newt did pause to check behind him a few times for anyone hiding, but beyond that he refused to linger on the attack.

Elias waved him over immediately and pulled him between his large body and Erik’s, both boys frowning fiercely.

“Professor Graves told us you were assaulted. You must walk with us now, we let our guard down,” Otso spoke up from across the table, the boys refusing any protest from Newt.

For weeks afterward, he couldn’t walk to the bathroom without one of the boys finding a way to accompany him.

Thankfully they left him be in the observatory so he could find quiet time there. He reminded himself that they meant well as they hounded him, never giving him a moment's peace without realizing it. Newt had been attacked, but he had also defended himself. Really, they worried far too much.

When Vulchanova offered to allow Newt a weekend pass to escort Pearl to the dragon reserve, he jumped at the chance immediately. Not only would he get to see a dragon reserve, but he’d also get a bit away from the well meaning smothering.

Vulchanova was going herself and surprisingly Percival as well.

“The dragon reserve is in America, as an American auror, of course I would come along. It’s a chance to be home for a bit. Even if it is in Montana of all places.”

Newt couldn’t fault that logic.

“Would you prefer I stay behind?” Percival teased and Newt flushed.

“Of course not, I was just curious. I don’t imagine Vulchanova will give you much chance to get up to anything anyway.”

The man wrinkled his nose in distaste and Newt fought a little smile.

Pearl was sleeping in the observatory with Newt visiting Percival alone for once. They needed to get the dragon used to being away from Newt, as she would soon be taken under a new surrogate mother, a proper dragon this time.

So Newt was sitting on the edge of Percival’s desk, the man’s arm on his lap, stroking his thigh idly as they spoke. There was no rush for sex, Percival never made Newt feel as if he was only interested in him for such things. They talked more than anything, about everything that occurred to Newt and anything Percival felt he should learn. When they dueled Percival was his professor, still teaching Newt to defend himself, pushing him a bit more since the boy had assaulted him.

Beyond that, he was one of the few not watching Newt like he might break apart at any moment. It felt good, that the man believed him when Newt had said he was fine.

“I suppose I should make up for the weekend now then,” the man suggested, his hand spreading over Newt’s thigh and squeezing suggestively.

“I wonder what color today?” He coaxed and Newt could feel his face heat up as the man leaned in closer. He was sitting in his chair with Newt on the desk, looming over his professor for once.

“Pink or blue?” Percival’s fingers undid the belt of Newt’s uniform and peeked under the shirt, pulling his trousers down so his pink underwear was visible.

“Ah pink, sweet pink.”

Newt watched as the man smirked, rubbing a finger over the edge of the smooth material.

“Have any boys seen them yet?”

Newt shook his head, going when Percival pulled him closer. Standing from the desk, he let him pull Newt’s trousers down.

“I haven’t let anyone see,” he admitted, his prick filling out as he settled into Percival’s lap, the man cupping his backside and dragging Newt closer, pulling him in until his backside sat right over the man’s own erection. Newt leaned back, gripping Percival’s firm knees so he could push himself down.

“Tease,” the man grumbled in good nature, knuckles grazing over Newt’s prick through the panties. “When you first came here you were so shy and sweet, needing help to suck a cock. Now look at you, riding me like it’s your right.”

Newt felt a touch embarrassed but he pushed it down, instead rocking on the man’s lap as Percival’s fingers groped his arse.

“Such a sweet, sexy thing, a pretty boy all for myself. You still haven’t let anyone else fuck you have you?”

Newt shook his head. Erik had asked a few times but Newt had refused each time, even in the middle of a lust filled moment he still only wanted Percival taking him. It was a silly thing, driven by his adoration of the man but Newt didn’t see why he couldn’t have something just between them. Percival seemed to like that he was the only one allowed inside Newt.

The man pulled him forward into a kiss and Newt felt himself melt, feeling warm and content as the man eased his fingers into him.

They had sex languidly, Newt’s thighs aching as he moved up and down on the man’s lap. The friction of the cock inside him felt delicious and Newt kissed Percival, tongues touching wet and hungry as he fucked himself on the man's prick.

“You gorgeous thing,” Percival muttered into his neck when he broke the kiss, licking at Newt’s skin, his uniform undoing itself quickly and stripping away until he was naked save his panties.

Newt didn’t feel shy anymore when he was bare before him, Percival’s hands and eyes touching him all over, his mouth praising him until he glowed with it, feeling so good and blissful with it.

When they moved, Newt hung on to the man as Percival lifted him and set Newt on the edge of his desk, tipping him so Newt laid down on his back, thighs spread and up around Percival’s hips as he pushed in with a bit more force.

He stared down at Newt, like he was something amazing, hands running over his chest and stomach as he thrust up into him.

“I’ve never met anyone like you darling, my pretty little boy, Sötnos.”

Newt arched his back, biting his lip as the pleasure began to rise up. Percival picked up on it and started slapping harder into him, hands gripping his waist to yank Newt into each lunge.

“Come on then, pretty doll, show me how much you like it,” he commanded and Newt shivered, trying to focus on the feeling of being fucked. This was another new game they played. The material of the panties, rubbed against his erection, teasing Newt as Percival fucked him, the underwear simply pulled to the side to let him in.

Newt wanted to touch himself, to thrust into his hand but they had been working on this. Teaching his body new skills.

“Tell me something dirty, something utterly filthy,” Percival told him and Newt moaned, holding the edge of the desk as the man pounded into him. He wanted to come so badly but it was hard to do it without a hand on his prick.

“Speak up.”

“…I think about…”Newt swallowed, trying to think of the dirtiest thought that had crossed his mind recently.

“Everyone’s e-excited for the quidditch finals, talking about it, it makes m-me think about… what you said,” he confessed. Percival rewarded him with quick hard lunges, his cock spearing into Newt so perfectly rough.

“You think about that team getting to have you?”

Newt nodded.

“Tell me how it would go, how you imagine it,” Percival’s voice was commanding, an authority to it that made Newt want to obey always.

“They’d all want m-me, to s..suck them off. Each one, and I’d…I’d do it.”

Newt’s cock was throbbing his body tensing up as his professor pounded away on him, shoving into Newt, the wet slaps of skin on skin filling the room, the desk creaking under them.

“B-but they’d be im-impatient, they’d start making me take more than one, all of them wanting to be s-sucked,” Newt burned with humiliation, admitting such a lewd fantasy. But he liked being humiliated during sex, liked everything to be too much, too overwhelming until he could barely stand it. Percival always so in control as he fell apart.

“You think about all the boys wanting your mouth, cocks rubbing on your lips, on your face, like the shopkeeper?”

Newt sobbed out, arching his back high as he gritted his teeth and came. Percival fucked him savagely as he released, the man pumping with no rhythm, moving wildly as he began to take his own climax as well.

Newt whimpered as the man came in him, shoving as deeply as he could as he filled Newt’s body in a way no other man ever had before.

This was theirs alone.

“Morgan praised, you are amazing,” his professor told him after a moment, sucking in heaving breaths as Newt trembled against the desk, panting himself. “You and your wicked imagination.”

“It’s not really my imagination, if it’s something someone already told me about. If someone already d-did it to me.”

“Nonsense, that shopkeeper was nothing special, just a callous man. It was you who made it such a spectacular thing. More so that you enjoyed it so much, that we’ve acted it out more than once since it happened.”

Newt flushed, recalling the Sunday evenings when Percival had fucked his mouth like that man had, calling him the same names, rubbing his cock on Newt’s face the same way until he was a trembling mess, begging for more.

“I can’t say I have a single complaint about that either. I do like the idea of you dripping come as well, every member of the winning team getting a go at your pretty mouth.”


The idea stayed with Newt.

There were four teams in the school, with twelve members each, seven players and five to fill in when the main team was hurt. With such a small school, more than half the student body played the sport. The other half liked to make bets on the outcomes, even the professors making guesses on the sly.

Mihail, Elias, Otso, Iosif, and Constantin were all on various teams, growling at each other at the dinner table that they would certainly best one another.

“Who do you think will win?” Elias asked Newt and he blinked up from his plate, tipping his head. Newt wasn’t even sure which teams were which honestly, but he couldn’t admit that and have to go through a never-ending lecture about the teams.

“I think the best team will win,” he decided and the boys groaned at him for the neutral answer.

“Come on now, you know there are rumors that you will give the winners a special prize,” Elias teased, trying to get Newt embarrassed. He chewed his food thoughtfully and swallowed.

“Who said it was just a rumor?” he replied calmly, feeling delighted that he didn’t stutter as he sipped his juice and the boys stared at him.

“I wonder if I can join a team,” Erik spoke up thoughtfully and the boys all laughed uproariously, smirking and teasing as the meal went on.


“You’ve done it now, half the school is outraged and half is delighted, the viciousness had gone up to ridiculous levels, I had to chase a group out of the dorms for trying to sabotage another team.”

Newt shrugged at his professor, feeling his face heat up a bit.

“I didn’t actually say I’d do anything.”

“You implied I’m sure, which is more than enough.”

“Do you think I shouldn’t have said anything?”

“A rumor is only a rumor until the person it’s about calls it out as truth or lies. Which way did you go?” Percival didn’t look upset by it, teasing if anything, walking with Newt towards the observatory to meet Vulchanova and take Pearl to her new home.

“I suppose I should actually do it?”

That made the man blink and he shook his head as if to clear it.

“See now, I have to find some way to be there, always making more work for me.”

Newt smirked, feeling a bit wicked but mostly excited. The finals were in two weeks, the school year coming to a close as well. It did seem like a perfect way to end his year.

Vulchanova greeted them with a suspicious look, pulling Newt to her side.

“Nothing improper Graves, I’ll not have Scamander’s name smeared before he’s even out in the world yet.”

Percival nodded with a false graciousness that made the old woman glare harder. Newt left them to pick at each other, gathering Pearl and checking to make sure every creature was fed and would be alright for the weekend. They had used magic to create a feeding system, something that would store their meals and feed them on time. It was a new idea and Newt was curious to see how it worked out.

“I spoke to Ienar about your essay,” Vulchanova told Newt as Percival prepared the portkey sent to them. Newt stood up a touch taller, if he could be published it would help him a great deal to allow him into one of the better universities to study to become a proper magizoologist.

“He thinks the one about Pearl needs more work, add more of an ending to it and polish it up better. The one on the Swedish Short Snout they’ve agreed to take and publish. He suggested you put something together about being a parselmouth as well.”

Newt bit his lip in joy, fighting a smile. He hadn’t been sure if his writing would be good enough, even with Vulchanova helping him.

“Congratulations,” Percival offered and Newt beamed in reply.

“Don’t get full of yourself, come on then,” Vulchanova said, leading the way as they took hold of the key, a simple red bowl. Pearl crooned in her sling, almost too heavy for Newt to carry now.

“Hold on,” he told her.


The dragon sanctuary was utterly amazing; a small castle in the mountains that went right into the mountainside, an underground series of caves where dragons of all species lived.

“A Chinese Fireball,” Newt breathed, peering around Percival to stare at the magnificent creature.

“This sanctuary is known for its various breeds,” the man offered, peering at the dragons as wizards and witches guided them about. “I never realized there were so many here though.”

Newt was called before he could answer, a tall broad man standing with Vulchanova.

“Show him your girl,” she directed and Newt obediently pulled the sling open so Pearl could peek out, the dragon crooning wildly as her eyes swung all around to take in the sights of all the other dragons.

“She’s a healthy size and she looks good! I think she’ll fit in right well with how she’s calling, looking for a friend already. Shall we take her to the other yearlings?”

Vulchanova nodded and Newt glanced back, seeing a tall man talking with Percival and leading him away.

“He touches base here, with MACUSA and their aurors,” Vulchanova told him lowly. “Half the staff on Durmstrang are certain he reports on the school, looking for any sign of laws on dark magic being broken. The rest are sure he’s been tasked with tracking Grindelwald down.”

Newt blinked, looking over at the old woman, a touch startled by the idea. He had never thought before that Percival was anything more than a professor.

“Graves is a dangerous sort, not for the reason you’d think. He nearly got himself killed investigating some dark circle in Britain, he was also accused of participating in the rituals, but some auror cleared his name in the last second. No one is sure whether he was a true auror playing at dark to lure them in or if he truly has a dark streak. I do know that the man keeps a close eye on everyone.”

She reached out with her walking stick and tapped Newt’s belt, making him stare even more.

“Bet you didn’t realize it was charmed. It won’t work here, everything blocked so the dragon’s don’t get upset. I don’t know what he’s playing at with you, but you’re better off without someone like that. Too close to the fine line of dark magic I suspect.”

Utterly thrown Newt nodded and pet Pearl to calm himself as they walked down the winding caves. The dragons were extraordinary but the visit was tainted, his mind turning over Vulchanova’s warning about Percival.

He certainly wasn’t a dark wizard. Newt was sure about that at least, but he was surprised to learn the man was watching Durmstrang. That he had spied on Newt via his belt.

Newt hadn’t realized Percival was the wizard his father had saved either. Only one person had been accused of dark magic and let off by the grace of an auror in Britain, it had to have been Newt’s father. So Percival was the one who arranged for him to come to Durmstrang then, but he head never mentioned it.

But then, Newt had never asked.


Pearl crooned excitedly and Newt turned his focus on her.

She was adorably nervous about meeting the other dragon yearlings, crouched behind Newt’s feet as she peered at them. There were eight orphans of various breeds, none of them an antipodean opaleye like Pearl.

“Give her some time, curiosity will win out,” Vulchanova predicted and within a hour, Pearl was in the thick of things, rolling around with her new litter mates.

A calm common Welsh green dragon was the surrogate mother that accepted Pearl right away, scenting her and nuzzling her tiny head gently.

“We should leave now, while she’s focused on them. We can visit tomorrow,” Vulchanova told him and Newt nodded, feeling a bit emotional as he stepped back and turned from the dragon he had raised from an egg.

“She’ll do well here,” he said, looking at the various dragons, all of them healthy or on the mend, it seemed like a good place.

“Of course she will, in a month's time she’ll hit her growth and then she’ll be the size of a house.”

Newt nodded, walking with his teacher and stopping to talk with people she knew. Shaking hands and answering curious questions about Pearl, Newt tried his best to be polite and outgoing, to begin friendships as Vulchanova had suggested.

“You did well enough, it’ll pay off in the long run. You should make friends with the yearling handler tomorrow, ask to write and get updates about your dragon.”

Newt hadn’t even thought of that, he perked up, nodding his head and hoping he could hear about Pearl as she grew up into a mighty dragon.

When they headed back into the castle, Newt was brought short by Percival and a woman talking across the hall heads bowed closely, a clear familiarity between them.

Fighting a jealous feeling in his chest, he reminded himself that he knew eventually Percival would move on from him. Even if they had sex again next year, Newt would graduate and then what? They certainly couldn’t have some sort of long distance relationship, the idea of it was silly. Newt was just a boy after all, and Percival was a man, anything between them in the public eye would be seen as obscene.

“Reality is a necessary thing,” Vulchanova commented and Newt realized he was staring at the man, dropping his gaze with a flush. “I’ll not comment again, you’re here to learn, not mope.”

Newt nodded, making himself focus as she struck up a conversation with the others at their table, talking about the merits of Swedish Short-Snouts to help clear dead forest areas for new growth.

It was fascinating to think about, and the dragon handlers were all enthusiastic about their beasts. Newt ended up talking with a man about Pearl for most of the dinner, discussing her scales as they toughened over the days and her sunning herself often, suggesting sunlight played a factor.

Marcus was certain the sunlight helped dry her scales and harden them, and that the moonlight also worked to help develop them.

“I’m not sure, Pearl slept with me in my room where the moonlight was weak, she doesn’t seem to be lacking for it.”

“What sort of room do you have?”

“Stone, a normal mattress of feather down. The window is smaller and east facing so minimal moonlight, although I suspect the castle is very high up.”

The man nodded, watching Newt as he explained it.

“She did prefer a great deal of body contact, hence the sling. I could feel her magic against me sometimes, and it mucked with spells. Students sitting near me had to move.”

“It’s a defensive move, to protect the young ones, most magical creatures leave them be, since being near them throws their natural instincts. They don’t like the feeling.”

Newt nodded, following the man down the halls. They’d talked for hours, Vulchanova headed to her bed long ago with Marcus promising to see Newt to his.

The halls were quiet now as they walked together, deep in discussion still.

Newt wanted to talk more but they arrived at a door that the man stopped at, pausing to grin at Newt in an odd way.

“May I come in?”

Newt almost agreed before he realized what the man was asking. He leaned into Newt, suddenly very close.

“You’re very interesting Scamander, I’d like to know you more,” he offered and he was very handsome, young, closer to Newt’s age than Percival. The thought of the man talking with his lady friend flashed but Newt knew he would want Percival for as long as he could.

“Sorry, I have s-someone,” he admitted and Marcus grinned brighter, not offended at all as he stepped back.

“Thought it couldn’t hurt to try,” he admitted and said goodnight to Newt.

Stepping into the room, he nearly jumped out of his skin to find someone there already. Percival was leaning up against the wall beside the door; clearly close enough to have overheard that.

“Could have been awkward,” he mused lightly, something strange about his tone, and Newt shrugged.

“You do like w-watching don’t you?”

Percival didn’t smirk or tease, frowning instead as he looked Newt over. It was unusual and it made him nervous as he undid his belt, fingers linger over the stag head Percival had made him at the beginning of the year.

“Is this really spelled to spy on me?” Newt made himself ask and Percival blinked, for once looking a touch caught off guard.

“Spy? Vulchanova and her theories. No. It is charmed to watch you though, to let me know if you’re in trouble and where you are in the school. I had thought you were being bullied, with your black eye and split lip. It warned me before you arrived when you were attacked, as well.”

Newt nodded, watching the man pushed away from the wall and lock the door with a touch of magic, coming over to Newt in the small room.

“I didn’t know you were the professor my father wrote,” he blurted, wishing he could shut up. Percival huffed, winding an arm around Newt’s waist and reeling him in, he went willingly right away.

“I see Vulchanova has given you a stern talking to.”

Newt frowned, resting his head on Percival’s shoulder, he wasn’t as tall as the man but he had grown a bit over the school year, a touch closer to the man’s height.

“She worries. I think she believes you’re going to endanger me or something of that sort.”

“Sounds like her. I teach, Sötnos. Sometimes I help MACUSA aurors with whispers of people trying to avoid the law. I met your father because I was trying to lure someone and got tricked rather thoroughly. Your father was contacted by MACUSA and asked to speak on my behalf.”

“Was it by Grindelwald?”

“Merlin, what the hell is that woman telling you?”

“Suspicious things, about mysteries and danger mostly.”

“Don’t worry on it,” Percival told him and seemed surprised when Newt nodded easily.

“I’m not. I’m mostly curious but I understand if you can’t tell me. My father and brother are both aurors after all. Work sometimes has to be kept at work.”

The professor blinked again, looked at Newt as he glanced back up, tipping his head invitingly.

Percival kissed him, pressing a warm lingering touch to his mouth.

“You really don’t mind?”

Newt shook his head.

“I trust you,” he shrugged, “I trusted you with the shopkeeper and I know you’re a good man, that you would protect me from any perceived danger. Look how long you had the boys stalking me after I was attacked.” Newt felt a touch sly, smirking because of course he had known it was Percival directing them.

“Clever little thing,” the man muttered, dropping a long kiss onto his mouth, opening Newt up to slide his tongue in.

The bed was worn but clean, comfortable as Newt laid back on it and Percival stripped him down.

“I do love your skin, you look gorgeous naked darling, you should just go without clothing.”

Newt bit his lip to hide a smile at the silly suggestion, letting Percival lick at his neck and shoulder as he pleased, dropping kisses as he went.

The man was such a skilled lover, seeming to know all the best places to touch and taste Newt. He left him trembling and whimpering for more, arching into every thrust and shoving back eagerly.

Percival fucked Newt into the bed, muttering a silencing charm as he slammed right into the perfect place. It felt like a spark of magic every time, lighting Newt up with pleasure as he sobbed. Percival was focused tonight, seeming intent on breaking Newt as he fucked him over and over, made him come once, twice, a third shivering time, until Newt sobbed and begged him to stop.

With a satisfied growl, Percival fucked him to his own release. When he came he pulled out and finished on Newt’s face, white spurts along his chin and cheek. Pressing a sloppy kiss to the tip, Newt licked up the last few drops of come.

Percival watched him do so, panting hard above him, staring down at Newt as he laid in the sweat soaked bed.

“Merlin, you are an amazing fuck darling,” he muttered and Newt flushed in pleasure. When Percival said such things, he sounded so sure, as if there was no way Newt wasn’t all the kind, sweet things he named him.

It made Newt feel like he was those things; it warmed him and lifted his spirits every time. His professor had plenty of opportunities to hurt him, to use Newt. But he never had. No matter who said what of him, he had been good to Newt.

Newt trusted him.


“Have you heard of the mentorship program at the university in London? On Magical Beasts and their properties.”

Newt nodded, yawning as he turned to nuzzle into Percival’s side, feeling fucked out and utterly content. They were crammed together on the small bed, curled up snugly.

“They have a student opening you know, you could apply for it.”

“Vulchanova mentioned it, she wants me to apply for multiple places. My mum wants me to come home.”

“Any decisions?”

Newt shook his head.

“I do miss my parents, but I can visit. The programs are only a few months with time before and after to be at home. I want to study more than I want to sit at home.” Newt thought of the weeks he spent after he was expelled, feeling hollow inside. No. He wanted to move forward now, he wanted to take every chance he could.

“Theseus wants me to go to London, he’s training there.”

“I’ll be there as well,” Percival admitted and Newt blinked, feeling the sleep ebbing up to take him fall back. “There’s an auror workshop and class on illusionment spells at the university. MACUSA agreed to send me, Tina gave me the approval letter earlier.”

“What sort of auror are you?” Newt had never heard of one who was sent all over the world, to teach at schools and then attend universities to learn.

“A sneaky one,” Percival replied and Newt pressed his face to the man’s chest to hide his smile.

“Will you return to teach at Durmstrang?”

“One more year. Then I’m off to New York to work there on a more permanent basis.”

Newt nodded resting the side of his face on Percival’s bare chest and listening to the steady heartbeat under him.

“Have you heard of Josiah University there? It teaches a strong magizoologist program, I’ve heard.”

“It’s hard to get into,” Newt replied, Vulchanova had told him there were three top schools to try for; Josiah in America, Crowdy University in London, and Nerida University in Bulgaria. Newt was likely to get into Crowdy but considering his abrupt change of schools mid-point his education, it wouldn’t be easy to get into the other two.

“You’re underestimating yourself, you’ve published papers already, most university students work hard just to do that much.”

“That was Vulchanova,” Newt protested and the hand curled on his hip squeezed tightly.

“Nonsense, she’d not have encouraged you if she didn’t think you were good enough. That woman doesn’t do a damn thing unless she’s certain.”

Newt couldn’t argue that.

“I haven’t decided yet, I’ll try for all three and see where I’ll end up,” he supposed and Percival hummed in agreement.

“Take the mentorship program in London, sweet, I’m sure we can find a way to room together.”

Newt blinked, lifting his head to look up at the older man. “You would…want that?”

“Foolish boy,” Percival growled, rolling them and pinning Newt to the bed. “Of course I would want to have you all summer, curled up in my bed. Likely with some illegal beast under it.”

Newt’s heart pounded in his chest as he nodded, letting Percival kiss him, his mind suddenly racing. He hadn’t thought…they had spoken of his education before but not as if it was a way to keep in contact.

To stay together.

Heart pounding, Newt knew he would go to London, he would go to New York, he would go anywhere Percival was.

They had sex again, Newt whimpering and feeling a touch emotional as he clung to the man fucking him.

They had barely slept when Vulchanova was pounding on his door, the sun not even up yet.

“Come along Scamander, we’ve only half a day here.”

“Sorry darling,” Percival whispered as Newt dressed. The terrible man already falling asleep again as Newt crept from the room.

Vulchanova was waiting for him, snorting as he slipped out the door without opening it all the way, hiding Percival in his bed.

“Can’t be reasoned with?” She asked him and Newt shrugged, thinking of spending the summer with the older man, thinking of maybe even spending his university years with him, years of being with the other man.

“I’m afraid this one isn’t something I can do much about.”

“Soppy boy,” Vulchanova shook her head but didn’t bring it up again.

They spend the day meeting dragons and talking to people. Vulchanova was handed essays and journals to read and she piled them on Newt who dutifully carried them, wondering all the while how he was going to read almost twenty papers in two short weeks amidst finals. He would though, everything was amazing and the dragons were so stunning, Newt’s heart pounded as he spent the day talking about them to other people who were just as interested. He didn’t feel as if he was prattling on when he spoke to the dragon handlers, they were intent on his words and quick to reply with their own thoughts.

Marcus showed him his antipodean opaleye pair and Newt marveled at their beauty, in awe that one day Pearl would be just as fine as them.

The little dragon came over to greet him, rubbing on his shins but eventually the lure of her new siblings pulled her away. Newt was glad to see her so taken right away; it was a strong sign she would be fine without Newt. He did adore her but he wanted her in the best possible place, which was at the sanctuary.

Midday came too fast, Newt not wanting to leave just yet. But he went obediently, carrying the heavy bags of papers and endless potion ingredients from dragons; spit, tears, scales, bits of blood, a whole mess of things that Vulchanova would likely use to barter her own wants from the potions master Dumitru.

Durmstrang was a bit chilly to return to, Newt pulling his wand to cast a warming charm. Vulchanova frowned as she did so as well.

“I’ll have to retire eventually, when my knees refuse this cold. A nice dragon filled cave would work well, as warm as they are.”

"But who would you terrorize then?" Percival asked and the old woman smacked him in the leg with her walking stick.


Newt knew distantly of the visits, a few students from other schools coming for a weekend tour. Boys talked about it mainly because of the Beauxbatons girl’s school, which housed the most beautiful of girls apparently.

“If they allowed boys, you could have gone.” Elias winked at Newt at the dinner table.

“Will you know anyone from the Hogwarts group?” Erik asked and Newt paused to stare at him a moment.

“…I don’t know. I doubt it though, I didn’t do well there, I don’t think.” Newt didn’t like the idea of his old school mates seeing him now. On one hand, he felt much more accept and at ease at Durmstrang but he also felt as if they might make the Durmstrang students see whatever was in him that Hogwarts hadn’t liked. It was a silly notion but if felt heavy in his gut nonetheless.

“It makes sense, that you would do poorly there,” Elias mused and Newt felt a sudden deep cut of hurt rush through him.

“Hogwarts is the delicate sort. You look delicate, but you aren’t. You do well with beasts at your feet, raising dragons and keeping vipers in your pocket. I could see why Hogwarts would be scared of you.”

Newt blinked at that assessment, the hurt fading.

“You belong at Durmstrang,” Erik added and the other boys nodded. “Don’t even think of going somewhere else next year.”

Feeling overwhelmed, but in the best way, Newt nodded.

Elias wound an arm around his shoulders tugged him into a brief hug.

“You know the headmaster knows all about you and your hobbies,” the boy whispered and Newt flushed red, glancing at the professor’s table where the man was eating. “He lets you do it because the fighting among students had dropped dramatically this year, everyone having a pretty thing to relieve themselves with.”

Newt blushed hotly as the boy laughed winking at him.

“I graduate this year, Sötnos, off to America to try at being an auror. But I’ll write you?”

Newt nodded. “I think I might go to New York in a year, to attend the university there.”

Elias grinned brightly. “Good! I can show you the city then, I’ll have mastered it by then.”

“Calm down now, most of us are going that way, you don’t get to keep him to yourself.”

“You are?” Newt blinked.

Erik nodded. “America and Britain are the best places to go to become proper aurors. Britain favors Hogwarts students heavily though, so most try for the American training programs. My family works in potions but I've decided to try for law.”

“I can ask my brother about it, he would know a great deal about the entrance exams. Although Professor Graves does seem to be deeply involved with MACUSA, he would be the one who could help you for America.”

“What makes you say that?” Erik asked.

“He’s an active auror for MACUSA still, he would be the one to help you get in,” Otso pointed out and his group nodded. Newt recalled distantly that the boys had been working under Percival for additional schooling on Saturdays, to prepare for the entrance exams. It was how the professor knew them in the first place.

Newt’s roommates would return next year but the older boys would all graduate.

“Well and he is a Graves,” Newt pointed out and the boys didn’t seem to realize the connection as they peered at him in question. Elias snorted in amusement at it, smirking at Newt, clearly knowing.

“The Graves family is one of the original twelve founders of MACUSA. An old powerful name,” Elias supplied and the boys all rushed to comment their surprise and curiously, peering at the man up at the professor table until he looked up. It struck Newt then how young they seemed to him now. No longer hulking intimidating figures like they had been at the beginning of the year.

“Percival Graves is a known man, it would not be shocking should he become head auror or even higher, he is a powerful wizard from a powerful name,” Elias added, just to wind the others up.

Newt glanced over at the man, wondering it that was true, if Percival would become a household name in America one day.

It would suit him.

“Enough about this though, to the real matter at hand,” Erik demanded, and everyone looked at him. “Who will win the quidditch cup this year?” He winked lewdly at Newt and the other boys all started their fighting again.

Newt barely managed not to sigh as a fierce debate began.


“Why was I under scrutiny yesterday?”

Newt blinked up from his defensive magic book. He was trying to learn from reading alone, Percival not helping him with the motions as he had before.

“Scrutiny? Oh, the boys realized you were from the original Graves family, it was quite the shock to a few of them.”

Percival snorted.

“Even here such things matter?”

“Even here. They were all impressed my mom was from the Fawley family as well.”

“The Sacred Twenty-Eight was it?”

Newt nodded.

“I’ve never paid it much attention, but there are those that attribute Theseus’ power to being from the line.”

“Do you believe it?”

Newt shook his head.

“I grew up watching Theseus dedicate himself. He worked very hard to control his power and to work to sharpen it. It dismisses that hard work when people say he’s gifted on his own. Theseus was born with a lot of raw talent, but it seems randomized who is born like that.”

Newt tipped his head in thought.

“And if the wizard or witch doesn’t apply themselves, really work at it, they don’t become known for their power. Professor Dumbledore from Hogwarts is one of the most powerful wizards of his generation and he always told me he worked extremely hard to master himself.”

When no reply came, Newt looked up from studying the wand motions in the book and blinked at Percival who was watching him with an odd sort of expression.

“Is s-something wrong?”

Percival shook his head, smirking softly.

“No. I’ve never heard someone sum it up so well before is all. You have a unique perspective.”

“Thank you?”

The man laughed outright, nudging Newt with his arm and smiling at him.

“So you know Professor Dumbledore? He’s the one coming from Hogwarts this weekend to visit. Durmstrang is trying to keep the old ties going strong. Hogwarts and Beauxbatons were once great allies.”

“Really? He was a wonderful professor,” Newt smiled hoping Dumbledore would be pleased with how far Newt’s education had come along. “My mum wrote that he’s still trying to have my expulsion lifted.”

“Oh,” Percival frowned a touch, looked at Newt. “Should I be worried? Is the man out to steal you away?” he teased.

Newt flushed red with embarrassment and Percival made an intrigued sound as he curled an arm around Newt’s waist.

“I…h-had a bit of a l-liking on him b-before,” he admitted. “But he s-set me straight, told me to f-find a nice student.”

“You did find one, several in fact,” Percival chuckled. “His loss, a foolish man to let you slip by,” the professor leaned in and Newt tipped his head back automatically to receive the kiss.

“Very foolish,” Percival muttered, kissing Newt deeper, and the book and spell work were forgotten.


Newt was more worried about his classes than anything, studying furiously with Vulchanova constantly reminding him to stay focused and excel. She dug home in him that it was key his grades be high, if he truly wanted to attend a top school. Percival provided him with moments of calm in the rush, kissing him sweetly but also letting him study and helping when he needed it.

Potions was his main worry, Anton was tutoring him though, helping Newt get the potions likely required on the test right. Afterward, he sucked the boy off in repayment, the feeling of a cock in his mouth almost soothing.

Newt stumbled from his tutoring and managed to find Percival, kissing him hard before going to his knees and sucking him until he came down Newt’s throat.

“Merlin, you have delightful stress relief methods,” Percival told him as he pet Newt’s hair. “I’m swamped with testing and finals, but I am thinking of the quidditch match and the aftermath,” he muttered, rubbing Newt’s bottom lip with his thumb.

“Me too,” he replied, looking up at the man. “I sent my application for the London mentorship off yesterday, Vulchanova sent it for me.”

“I imagine that when they realize she’s teaching you, you’ll get in. No doubt she sent some letter of reference.”

“I hope so,” Newt offered honestly.


He spared a worry for the idea of Leta coming to Durmstrang but didn’t have time to let it linger. Newt was doing well enough in his classes focused on method and book work but his physical education was lacking. His hand to hand was weak, though Erik and Iosif were helping him work to improve for the final. Newt’s body was bruised and exhausted, he slumped in his bed each night and was sleeping almost immediately.

Come the Friday he was far more focused on his classes than the school visits. Newt was genuinely worried about potions, wishing he had more supplies to practice with. Anton had said he would pass though, certain Newt was at a strong enough level.

“Want to come see the visitors?” Elias invited and Newt shook his head, more focused on his books. He would go look for Professor Dumbledore afterward.  

Of course, the man found him, Newt looking up from his book a bit later on and finding the man meandering his way over to him.

“Hello professor,” Newt smiled and the man offered him a sincere smile and nod in return.

“Newt, it’s good to see you again. How has Durmstrang been treating you?”

“Very well,” Newt replied, feeling proud that he could say it and mean it.

“That’s good,” the man replied, seeming to look at Newt and see far more than anyone else could.

It made him feel shy but then Newt thought of his conversations with Percival about shame. There was nothing he had done that he regretted, there was no reason for him to be ashamed.

He looked up at his old professor and smiled at him.

“How is Hogwarts?”

The older man didn’t reply at first, watching Newt a moment long before nodding, as if satisfied.

“Very well, also. There is a curious young squid around the Great Lake I’ve noticed, a charming little fellow.”

Newt flushed in embarrassment.

“He’s quite kind, I don’t think he’ll grow too big. Did…did Hogwarts plan to remove him?” Newt could go get him perhaps, find somewhere else for the poor thing.

“There was a discussion, but he proved to be a tame squid and so he will be left alone, the students are rather taken with him already.”

“I’m glad,” he replied with a smile, happy that at least the squid was safe.

“I’ve heard rumor of a paper with your name on it in the next Dragon Enthusiast monthly,” the professor mentioned, and Newt happily discussed his adventures with the dragons.

“Sötnos! Dinner time,” someone called and the librarian hushed them.

Newt nodded and rose up, closing his books.

“Sorry sir, I should go eat or I might forget.”

“Nourishment is an important aspect to success,” the professor agreed.


There was a special table set up for the visitors, a teacher and three students each. Newt didn’t recognize the Hogwarts students and was glad for it. The Beauxbatons girls were very pretty and Newt was quietly amused as the boys around him spent dinner time trying to get a look at them.

After the meal Newt went to the observatory to feed a newborn Diricawl, another of the mystery eggs that had hatched. The darling creature was snuggled in a down nest and eager to eat the mashed up worms Newt carefully hand fed him.

Once that was done he headed back towards the dorms, wanting to change and then see if he could find Percival.

He paused when he noticed his professor and Dumbledore standing together, both peering at an old stone wall.

Carved into it was a symbol Newt had never paid much attention too before.

“-Dangerous man, the sooner we can find him the better,” Percival finished and Newt paused, knowing he should leave. But he immediately wanted to know why Percival was talking to Dumbledore of all people.

“I assure you, if I was aware of his location I would have shared it already,” the Hogwarts professor replied serenely, looking at the wall.

Percival frowned at the man, inspecting his face before looking back at the ominous symbol carved into the stone.

“You’re a young man to be on such a treacherous hunt,” Dumbledore pointed out idly and Newt watched the two men inquiringly. While he was interested in knowing what it was all about, he supposed it had to do with Percival being an auror and thus something Newt should leave alone. But how was he to cross the doorway unnoticed? Perhaps he should just backtrack and head another way.

“My age doesn’t have weight in this.”

“But in other matters perhaps?”

Newt paused mid-step away from the door.

“Other? Ah. Looking out for your student still?” Percival asked and Newt winced, knowing he should go.

“A young man can be led astray by affection and it can be a hard lesson to take.”

“Well then you should have tried harder to protect him, your school threw him out for something you’ve told me was not truly his fault.” Percival sounded a touch defensive and Newt smiled despite himself.

“I don’t believe that is a reason to be…interacting with your student.”

“I’d invite you to bring up the issue with someone who gives a fuck about what you think.”

Covering his mouth so he didn’t give himself away with a laugh, Newt left back the way he came, leaving the professors to their discussion.

It felt silly to be so cheered by Percival’s tone, that he would defend their relationship. For the time that he had known him, the man wasn’t one to be railed so easily. That he turned so annoyed and then angry even suggested it was something he cared about. Newt thought about their discussion at the dragon sanctuary, about going to New York and maybe sharing an apartment with the man.


When Newt went by Percival’s classroom a few hours later the man was there, glaring at his desk thoughtfully.

“Evening,” Newt greeted with a shy smile and the man glanced up at him with a reading look.

“Did your professor Dumbledore say something to you?” Percival asked bluntly and Newt smiled again. Going around the desk he sat on edge beside Percival, their legs touching as the man leaned back in his chair to peer up at Newt.

“He asked if I was happy and then we talked about magical beasts. Did he say something to you?”

“You overheard most of it,” the professor pointed out, tapping Newt’s belt as a reminder it was charmed to locate him.

“Only a bit, I left at the cursing part,” he admitted.

“You’re amused by this?” Percival was frowning now.

“I suppose I am. Seeing my old professor made me realize how much my life has changed. I thought I might feel a bit homesick for Hogwarts but I didn’t. I’m happy here.”

He offered a timid smile and Percival slowly returned it, reaching out to knock his knuckles against Newt’s knee.

“He’s a manipulative man, making me guilty of something when there’s nothing to be guilty about.”

Newt tipped his head in question.

“Would you have preferred a student to a professor?” The older man asked, watching him keenly.

“If you were a student.”

“Not what I was asking,” Percival scolded him and Newt shrugged.

“It is in a way. It’s you I want to be with, regardless of being a professor or a student, or an auror or anything else.”

“You’re too young to speak so eloquently.”

“I’m usually only good at it if I’m comfortable, which isn’t my natural state.”

That wrung a chuckled from the older man and he leaned in to tip Newt’s chin down so he could kiss him.

“I’d like to fuck you now, while that judgmental bastard is under the same roof.”  

Newt nodded, face red but at the same time he was a touch amused. Despite whatever worries Dumbledore had, Newt was certain of Percival. He was happy to be with him for as long as they could be.

Come the weekend Newt found himself kept busy by Vulchanova and Percival. The man seemed a tad territorial and determined to keep Newt from running into his old professor again. He managed to bring Vulchanova in on it by suggesting Dumbledore was trying to coax Newt back to Hogwarts.

“Nonsense, that school would never suit you as Durmstrang will,” she grumbled and send him to work with the beasts all day.

Between her and Percival, the weekend sped by and he never ran into his old professor again. But if the man had wanted to speak with him again, Newt didn’t doubt he would have found a way too.

Instead, the visitors left on Sunday and Newt settled back into a mild panic over his classes.


The finals began and Newt had no free time, Percival was just as swamped in administering his exams so they barely saw one another for the week.

Come Friday evening, Newt was thoroughly exhausted but his classes were finished and each one was passed. He didn’t know his exact marks yet but he was certain he hadn’t messed anything up too terribly.

Slumping into his bed with every intention to sleep in the middle of the day, he blinked awake when someone came into the room.

Erik tossed his books on his bed and climbed onto Newts bed without a word.

“Blood final examinations,” he growled and Newt didn’t protest as he undid his trousers. Opening his mouth, Newt took him in, letting the older boy shove at his face, growling the entire time, working his stress out on Newt’s tongue.

With a snarl Erik came, warm splatters in Newt’s eager mouth.

Sitting back he ran a hand through his hair and looked down at Newt as he licked his lips.

“I’ll be disappointed if we don’t room together next year,” he confessed, swinging a leg so he wasn’t kneeling over Newt anymore and settling on the bed with him.

“I’m eager to return home but I’ll miss your mouth all summer,” Erik admitted and Newt shrugged, not sure how to comfort him.

“But I’ll see you in the fall? There were rumors that you were going back to Hogwarts?”

Newt shook his head. “I adore my old school but it can’t offer me what Durmstrang can.”

Erik nodded and then smirked up at the roof.

“Do you mean the beasts or a certain professor?”


The other boy grinned when Newt didn’t bother to deny it.


“Hmmm?” Newt was already drifting off to sleep again, utterly wrung out after the busy week.

“Are you truly going to suck off the winning Quidditch team?”


“I need to care more about sports,”

“Not really. Merlin knows I avoid talk about the game, and always want to keep it that way.”

Erik chuckled now, the bed shaking under them.

“Don’t tell anyone else that, you might make enemies.”


Newt didn’t plan to attend the game on Saturday but Percival arrived at the observatory to escort him. Not sure how to decline and not minding a bit of time with the other man, Newt went.

The game was rather vicious, even by quidditch standards. But it was blissfully short, only four hours before the snitch was caught and the game was finished. The team in red jerseys cheering their victory.

“Is this game still on?” Percival asked him lowly and Newt bit his lip, watching the winners circle the stadium waving. They were all fit men, all running on adrenaline and eager to celebrate their victory. More than one of them looked his way.

“Y-yes, I think it is.”

Percival let him away from the crowds, leading him down winding paths until they reached the locker rooms, a large open place with shower stalls and places to store clothing and equipment.

“Someone borrowed this from the visitors, I do think it’s your colors?”

Newt blinked at the black and yellow tie. The man had a Hogwarts school uniform, a girls uniform.

Face burning red, Newt stared at it.

“I can’t w-wear that,” he protested and Percival laughed.

“You can suck off the winning team but you can’t wear a girl’s uniform while you do it?”

“There’s n-no point t-to it,” he objected weakly, still holding the tie as Percival backed him up against the wall, looming over Newt and leaning in.

“What if I assure you, there is? That I would love to see you in this?”

Newt felt himself twitching in his trousers, despite his embarrassment. Perhaps because of it even.

Percival watched him strip down and slip on the Hogwarts’ uniform. It was too tight in most places, a simple white shirt with short sleeves, a tie, and a skirt. The professor pulled his tie looser so it hung a bit, muttering a sticking charm so it couldn’t be tightened again. The top buttons of the uniform came undone and Percival slid a calloused hand up Newt’s thigh, under the skirt.

“It feels too short,” Newt muttered softly and the man just smirked, stepping back and circling Newt as he pulled at the skirt. He had his pink panties on under it.

The sound of the boys coming made him start and Percival was stepping back, raising a finger to his lips for Newt to be quiet.

The locker room was divided up into four sections, two shower areas and two large spaces for lockers. Newt was in the far corner of the lockers, hidden away a bit.

Pulling at his skirt he flushed terribly and wondered if maybe this was a horrid idea.

“Sötnos, I had hoped,” Elias grinned brightly, tossing his quidditch robes aside and pulling on his padded trousers. Newt blushed harder as the other boy approached him, taking his hand and turning him in a circle.

“So pretty, it suits you,” Elias teased lightly, a hand running up Newt’s thigh to feel his panties. “You wanted to use your mouth and nothing more?”

Newt nodded and the other boy winked, smirking as other team members made their way over to them.

“Down on your knees then darling,” he guided Newt and he glanced at the professor that no one seemed to notice, watching him as he went down and helped Elias get his cock free. The older boy wasn’t shy to strip down pulling his uniform off as Newt slipped his soft member into his mouth, feeling it twitch and fill out on his tongue.

“I’ll miss your mouth so much, we must meet in the summer, I’d cross the world for that tongue,” he teased.

Newt hummed a bit in reply, bobbing his head as he sucked the boy’s cock. Others came to join them right away, some just watching while others hurrying to strip down. A few men went right to the showers, ignoring Newt but the majority came over to him.

Elias put a hand in his hair and made him pull off, drawing his erection out of Newt’s mouth slowly so a trail of spit hung between them.

“Don’t be greedy,” someone grumbled and Elias laughed, nudging his head towards another boy. Newt turned obediently and let him feed his eager cock into his mouth. He tangled his hands in Newt’s hair and shoved clumsily, grunting as he pumped into Newt’s mouth.

“How skilled,” someone mocked, not at Newt but the boy slamming into his face. He yanked Newt all the way down, his cock head pressing into his throat. Gripping the stranger’s thigh, Newt pushed off, gasping for air.

“Let’s see you then,” he growled at his teammate and another set of hands were twisting Newt around. A rather fat cock rubbed in his face, dripping already. When he opened his mouth obligingly, the boy fed it to him, taking his time sliding it down into his mouth. Newt clamped his lips and sucked eagerly, the hands in his hair not rough as they held his head still so the young man could ride his face.

A calloused hand took hold of Newt’s one wrist and he was soon stroking a prick. His other hand was quickly filled as well. Some of the boys stood away but others were shameless, reaching to pull at Newt’s uniform.

“He looks like a girl,” someone muttered.

“He pretty much is a girl,” another replied. Hands reached to grope Newt’s ass, his skirt flipped up so the boys could see his panties.

“Told you,” someone laughed.

"Touch all you want, but he's only here to suck," Elias warned and there was some grumbling but no one outright argued.

Newt could feel the cock on his tongue throbbing and he was ready when the boy groaned, thick splatters of seed into his waiting mouth. Newt sucked it all down and swallowed, savoring the taste and accomplishment of it.

The next boy was rougher, hands pulling Newt harder onto his long prick and it made Newt gag. He worked through the worst of it but the boy was harsh, not letting up.

“Easy,” Elias called but he ignored him, grinding Newt’s face down to the base of his cock as he cursed softly and came. Newt didn’t have a real choice, the seed pouring right down his throat he felt.

When the cock came free from his mouth, frothy gobs of saliva and semen ran down Newt’s chin. He sucked in uneven breaths and if felt too soon when someone was nudging a cock head at his lips.

Everyone was staring at him like he was something desirable, like Newt in a skirt with spit on his chin was a sexual sight. It made him feel good, made him want to take care of every last one of them.

So Newt sucked them all off.

He stroked cocks and swallowed each one down over and over, barely knowing who was doing what. Hands touched him, pulling on his nipples until they ached, slapping his ass until it was burning. His own cock was aching but every time someone tried to jerk him off he stopped them. He stayed hard through it all as he took nine different boys multiple times.

“Tip your head back a bit, Sötnos,” Elias coaxed him, making Newt kneel with his head thrown back and his mouth opened.

The older boy jerked his cock off, already spilling twice and now he strained for a third. Newt stayed where he was obediently, trembling as the boy came with a groan, white spurts along Newt’s face with gobs in his mouth.

“Do you think we can fill his mouth?”

The others scrambled to try, the tips of pricks rubbing Newt’s chin and cheek as they jerked off and came on him. Over and over, a shot of come hit Newt along the eye and he had to close it, his other barely seeing as the boys kept going. Warm semen hitting his face in thick gobs.

Newt could feel it all over his skin, making his hair stick and trickling down his neck. His shirt clung to him with semen and his skirt had thick smears of it on the fabric as well. Sweat and saliva joined the mess and Newt felt utterly used, his cock throbbing with the terribly delicious feeling.

It was hard not to swallow or to choke but Newt managed, head held back.

“Look at that,” someone whispered. “It’s overflowing.”

A sure finger touched Newt’s chin, Elias smiling down at him.

“Swallowing down now, Sötnos.”

Newt trembled as he obeyed, closing his mouth carefully and swallowing, once and then twice to get it all down.

“Such a gifted thing, such a pretty mouth,” the young man chuckled. The rest of the team was leaving now, wandering off to the showers.

Some boys lingered behind, managing another round on Newt’s mouth, his jaw beginning to ache now.

Slowly but steadily though they all cleaned up and left.

“You wanna shower together?” Elias suggested and Newt shook his head, not daring to glance where Percival still was.

“Alright, say hello to your professor for me,” he grinned and Newt flushed as Elias showered quickly and then left.

His legs, his thighs and feet ached from kneeling and so Newt flopped gracelessly onto his backside, leaning against the wood bench as he felt his poor cock ache.

Elias bid him goodbye and when he left the bathroom doors clicked locked.

Blinking up, Newt managed a weak smile as Percival came to look down at him.

The man’s shoe nudged Newt’s thigh and so he spread his legs, wider and wider as the man kept guiding.

Settled on the floor with his back braced on the bench, Newt wiped at his face, his hand coming away sticky and dripping.

Percival didn’t seem to mind, watching Newt with a strange intensity as he knelt between his legs.

“I’m going to fuck you now darling,” he explained simply and Newt nodded. Feeling the spell between his thighs, cleaning his body and leaving it slicked. The panties were pushed aside and an eager finger pressed into his hole.

They hadn’t had sex recently but Newt had prepped himself.

Percival could tell, sinking two fingers into him and feeling the loose hole, ready to take him.

“Such a clever thing,” he praised and Newt bit his lip, it felt fat and swollen after so many cocks.

He whined when Percival pushed into him, his cock opening Newt up like nothing else could, making him feel so good.

“I’m afraid this won’t last very long,” the professor chuckled and Newt sighed at the burn of being taken.

“I won’t e-either,” he admitted, his cock still trapped in his panties. The front of them were soaked with his eagerness.

When the man shoved in fully, Newt sobbed, dropping his head back on the bench as Percival quickly began fucking him.

He didn’t take time working up to anything, just began to callously slam into Newt, riding him as rough as some of the boys had.

“I can’t,” Newt cut off, fingers tangling in his skirt to keep from jerking off.

“Can you do it without being touched?” Percival coaxed him, ramming up into his ass, little circular motions that hit all the right spots.

“Come one doll, I want you to mess those panties. Lick your lips and think of all the boys you just had, all those cocks down your pretty throat,” Percival’s voice grew rougher as he spoke. He pounded at Newt, harder and harder building quickly as he growled.

Newt put a hand down on the floor to steady himself, wet gobs of come and spit met his fingers.

It was disgusting and filthy and Newt wanted to lick it right off the floor.

With a choked cry he came, hips jerking as he cock pulsed and spilled, filling the lacy panties with his own seed.

“There’s my boy,” Percival managed to hiss as his thrusting lost its rhythm and he came as well, burying himself as far as he could in Newt as he spilled.

“My perfect little Sötnos.”

When Newt caught his breath he felt a bit ashamed of what he had just done but mostly he was just sore. His poor legs trembling as Percival led him to the showers, he had to lean on the man. With no mind to the mess on Newt or his clothing, the man tipped Newt under the hot spray and helped him clean up.

He stripped Newt of the uniform, letting it fall onto a wet heap at their feet as Newt sighed and relaxed into the heat and comfort of the man’s hands.

“Did you like that, sweet?”

Newt nodded.

“Would you want to do it again?” Percival teased and Newt blinked open lazy eyes at him, peering at the older man.

“...No. I liked it…but I spent most of it thinking about you,” Newt admitted.

He felt an apprehension that Percival might not like the observation but the man smiled at him easily. He ran a hand through Newt’s hair and leaned under the shower spray to kiss him lightly.

“I loved seeing you work, but I do prefer when I have you all to myself,” he assured Newt.

“Next year I…I might not…as often. W-with others.”

“That’s fine, you do whatever you want,” Percival encouraged him, his calloused hands touching Newt’s skin, rubbing him down with soap to clean him.

“Although I’ll still be chasing after you, trying to coax you into my classroom,” he admitted and Newt smiled at the ground, pleased that the other man would still want him. Knowing in a way he would. The idea that they would eventually part ways was beginning to fade.

“I’ve spoken with the headmaster, made arrangements so I won’t teach any of your classes next year.”

Newt blinked up at him, a touch confused.

“So there won’t be any conflict, there’s no law against us so long as I don’t teach any of your classes or have any say in your grades. You are of age after all. This,” He pulled Newt into him, their bodies pressing together. “Is perfectly legal. Scandalous and utterly wicked, but allowed.”

Fighting another bright smile, Newt nodded, winding his arms around the man and pulling him in to kiss him again, neither minding the shower soaking them both.


Newt ran into Leta during the summer, literally bumping into her as he was leaving a shop and she was walking in. It's a lazy Sunday with witches and wizards out and about in London. They had the awkward moment of instant polite apologies before they locked eyes and recognized each other.

Leta looked mortified to see him, looking away immediately.

Newt had always thought it would hurt more, to have her disregard him so bluntly. There was an ache at the action, but it didn’t dig deep into him.

“Leta,” her mother called to her, peering at Newt as if he were little more than muck on the street.

His reaction was trained into him, after months and months of being reminded. Newt lifted his head and straightens his back a touch. He can’t meet the woman’s gaze, but Newt was not less. Leta noticed it as well, staring at Newt as he stood tall and proud of himself. He might be flawed but he was still a person and worth that basic respect.

“Doll, we’ll be late,” Percival’s voice was warm and so very welcomed. His hand touched Newt’s back and slipped around his waist in a possessive gesture. The man was dreadfully possessive too of late, always wanting the world to be aware of their relationship and not seeming to shy away. Newt had expected he would be more subtle but he was the utter opposite, seeming proud of Newt at his side.

Newt goes when the man nudged him, walking past Leta and her mother. Percival holds tight to him and Newt doesn’t look back.

“A old friend?”

“Something like that. It doesn’t matter anyway,” Newt reassures and he means it. He thinks of all the boys he knows from Durmstrang, struggling to keep up with writing them back over the summer. Marcus from the dragon sanctuary writes as well, though Percival grumbles a bit over that. He thinks of Vulchanova and all she had taught him and will teach him, her updates on the beasts at the school and demands for reports on his own work. Newt considers all the magical beasts he has met and will meet under her guidance.

Newt thinks of a future in New York, with Percival.

“How am I ever going to be popular next year, if you’re going to be p-possessive like this?” He managed to tease, his voice only a touch shy as he smiled.

“Bribery and blackmail. I’ll teach you all about it,” Percival sniffs in reply and Newt laughs, softly laughs against the older man, not minding the looks they get and will probably always get. Percival makes him happy, and Newt is starting realize that it is silly to worry about the future between them, when everything between them right now felt perfect. To make up some future woe only tainted the present. If a time came when Percival was to leave him, Newt knew now that he would fight to keep him. He would never let the man go without protest.

“What’s making you smile so, Sötnos?”

“You,” Newt replied and Percival offered a sly wink that still made Newt blush.