My name is Newton Artemis Fido Scamander, youngest son of the Scamander family.
From the moment I could toddle after a hippogriff, magical beasts have been the love of my life. My mother, a renowned breeder of exotic hippogriffs herself, was my first inspiration.
She nurtured that fascination with every spark of her own wild heart.
I attended Hogwarts, of course, Hufflepuff House…but, truth be told, I didn't make the best student.
While others were studying for OWLs and NEWTs, I was sneaking into the Forbidden Forest to sketch bowtruckles or leaving raw meat near the lake to tempt a kelpie.
Professor Dumbledore, one of the few who believed in me, did what he could to protect me, but in the end… I was expelled.
But that's another story.
I took up a job at the Ministry of Magic afterward, hoping to make a difference in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.
What I imagined was a life among dragons and diricawls… turned into two mind-numbing years stuck behind a desk in the House-Elf Relocation Office.
The least magical experience of my life.
Eventually, after much pleading… and maybe a minor incident involving a misplaced lethifold, I was transferred to the Beast Division of the Magical Creatures Department.
Things improved quickly. My knowledge of magical beasts served me well, but I never stopped yearning for something… more.
Fieldwork. Freedom.
Purpose…
Then came the opportunity.
One of my beloved creatures, a Thunderbird named Frank, was ready to be released back to his homeland in Arizona.
I seized the excuse, applied for leave, and planned my journey to America.
Of course, I couldn't leave my other friends behind. So I asked Dumbledore for one last favor, to help enchant my suitcase into a portable habitat.
He obliged.
Before I left, he gave me something else, too… information.
"There's something unusual in New York." His eyes glittered behind those half-moon spectacles. "Dangerous. Perhaps… you can help."
He handed me a false identity, some documents for cover, and a suitcase.
Inside it?
The most confounding magical creature I've ever encountered.
An orange cat.
Or, at least… that's what it looked like.
✦••┈┈••✦••┈┈••✦
Newt clambered up the ladder, pushing open the trapdoor leading into the suitcase's interior habitat, a lush, multi-biome sanctuary filled with magical creatures.
Looking around, he called out with a sigh of exasperation.
"Garfield! Could you please let me out for a moment? I need to check the tickets before the train leaves!"
Lying lazily atop the suitcase like a pampered prince, Garfield yawned wide, exposing sharp little fangs.
"Oh, my dearest Newt…" He drawled, voice thick with feline arrogance.
"Maybe I'll consider helping, if you swear on your fuzzy Hufflepuff soul that you'll never again try to bribe me with catnip or those awful dried jerky bits."
Newt huffed, brushing dust off his one sleeve. "Garfield, I'll swear to anything, but please! I can't miss the conductor."
"He'll think I'm a stowaway!"
Garfield blinked slowly, looking amused. "Hmm… sounds like a you problem."
Then he paused. His eyes narrowed.
Oh. Wait. Wasn't that ticket puncher from first class? The one old Carter gave you? Thought he looked suspiciously rich and clueless.
Garfield was initially unwilling to help Newman, but was convinced by an irresistible reason… the Sorcerer's Stone.
Fans of the books often refer to it as the Philosopher's Stone, noting its similarity to the life-giving Philosopher's Stone featured in the comic Fullmetal Alchemist.
According to the agreement between Garfield and Dumbledore, when the time comes that Nicolas Flamele no longer needs the Sorcerer's Stone and decides to destroy it, Dumbledore must persuade him to hand it over to him instead.
Dumbledore did not yet know the full scale of the storm young Tom Riddle would one day become.
But when Garfield made his peculiar request, Albus did not refuse.
Immortality was no longer Nicolas Flamel's concern; the Sorcerer's Stone had served its purpose.
Now, the aged alchemist had only one wish, to see the prophecies that shadowed the wizarding world handled wisely.
If Garfield wanted the Stone someday, so be it, on the condition he did something useful in return.
So, Dumbledore struck a deal.
And instead of returning with Garfield to Hogwarts, he entrusted the orange feline to Leta Lestrange, asking her to deliver him to Newt Scamander's home.
Garfield had no words for Leta, literally and emotionally.
She carried a grief that curled around her like smoke. There was nothing he could say to lift that weight. He accepted the silence between them.
Newt was delighted… perhaps too delighted, by the mysterious orange cat that came with Dumbledore's letter.
"Fascinating." He laid eyes on Garfield.
"Such dense fur. Unusual gait. Curious energy signature. Possibly an undocumented magical species! Or... a hybrid? Half-kneazle? Part chimera?"
Garfield played dumb.
He lounged, he yawned, he blinked at Newt with meow indifference.
He devoured the fish Newt eagerly offered and dozed atop the suitcase as if the fate of the wizarding world weren't tangled in his whiskers.
But the moment came, on the ship bound for New York, when Newt, distracted by feeding his menagerie inside the magically expanded suitcase, disappeared inside it.
Garfield seized the opportunity.
He snapped the case shut, locked it with a casual flick of his paw, then strutted into first class to sample the menu.
Now…
"Garfield?" Newt banged softly on the underside of the lid.
"Garfield, could you kindly let me out? I need to check our landing papers and well, breathe."
A slow, leisurely meow answered him. Then the sound of deliberate chewing.
"…" Newt groaned. He had been deceived by Garfield.
It wasn't until he realized he was trapped that he finally understood Dumbledore's cryptic parting words… something about the cat being more helpful than it appeared.
At the time, Dumbledore's words had seemed full of hidden meaning, but Newt, hadn't paid them much attention.
Now, facing the consequences of his oversight.
As Garfield meowed several times, Newt couldn't understand the exact words, but he could sense the intent.
The cat was negotiating!?
Clearly, this was no ordinary feline… Garfield was a highly intelligent creature, likely magical in origin, and only vaguely cat-like.
"Garfield!"
Garfield considered his options, then finally responded. "I want a steak, a glass of milk, a hamburger to go, and some French fries if you've got them."
"Skip the chocolate, I don't like it."
Newt nodded. "All right, if it's just food, I agree."
With a flick of his paw, Garfield snapped his claws. The enchantment locking the box released instantly.
He leapt from the lid onto the bed, tail swishing in satisfaction as Newt climbed out. Garfield wore the smug expression of a triumphant ruler.
"My dear Newt." He purred. "Present your tribute to your king… Garfield the First, Meow."
"Garfield, what exactly are you?" Newt tilted his head, curiosity piqued.
"Some experimental magical hybrid? A bizarre creation? May I examine you? Don't worry… I'm a professional."
"Pigeon no um." Garfield muttered, pressing a paw against Newt's face to gently shove him away.
Heavens no. He was King Garfield I, not some lab specimen. Even two steaks wouldn't be worth that indignity.
Newt, thinking quickly, pulled a wrapped piece of meat from his coat pocket.
"How about a bit of dragon meat?" He offered.
Though he was committed to protecting magical creatures, Newt knew all too well that complex histories, both gratitude and conflict, connected wizards and dragons.
The rich, wild aroma of the dragon meat wafted through the air, packed with powerful magical energy.
Garfield's nose twitched, his mouth watered, and his stomach growled. An overwhelming urge to eat seized him.
Without even realizing it, Garfield drifted toward Newt, eyes locked on the meat.
In one swift motion, he snatched it from Newt's hand and swallowed it whole.
As the satisfying taste and energy settled through his body, Garfield closed his eyes in bliss.
Seizing the moment, Newt slowly reached out toward the magical cat…
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
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