Harry Potter's : Fantastic Beasts Guide

David stood in the middle of the study, glancing around. "You search here. I'll check the studio downstairs," he said decisively.

"Alright," Rove replied, heading toward a desk buried under piles of manuscripts.

David approached the heavy iron door at the far end of the room. Gripping the handle, he pressed it down and stepped into the magical space beyond. Descending the winding staircase, he arrived at the studio, the air tinged with the familiar scent of potions and parchment.

As he walked, David felt a light tap on his shoulder. Startled, he turned to find a small, twig-like creature with bark-like skin hopping happily on his shoulder.

"Pickett! How have you been?" David greeted with a warm smile.

Pickett nodded enthusiastically, pacing back and forth on David's shoulder before sliding down to dangle by his two slender feet. David chuckled, amused by the little creature's antics. After teasing Pickett for a moment, he began his search.

The studio remained mostly unchanged since his last visit, but there were a few notable differences. Feed bags for magical creatures were stacked in abundance, suggesting that Grandpa Newt had been rescuing more animals recently. On a cluttered worktable against the wall lay scattered bottles, books, and manuscripts—a rare sight, as Newt's workspace was usually meticulously organized despite its apparent chaos.

Curious, David skimmed the papers. They detailed treatments for injured magical creatures, along with potion recipes. What caught his attention was the alarming severity of some injuries described, with mentions of animals being permanently maimed or partially disabled. Concerned but undeterred, he continued searching.

Opening cabinets and boxes, David found nothing unusual—only a cloud of dust. Finally, in a dim corner, he spotted a small, relatively clean box, its surface barely touched by dust. Unlike the other items in the room, this box appeared to be in frequent use.

Excited, David picked up the box, examining it closely. The lock resisted his attempts to open it.

"Alohomora!" he incanted, tapping the lock with his wand.

The box quivered but remained firmly shut. David scratched his head. "Grandpa must have cast an anti-unlocking charm on this," he muttered. Turning to Pickett, he grinned. "Think you can crack this open for me?"

Pickett blinked, then shook his head vigorously.

"Can't do it?" David asked.

Pickett shook his head again, then gestured with his tiny arms.

"Ah, Grandpa told you not to," David deduced with a sigh. "Alright, I'll try something else."

After some thought, David summoned a Tree Guardian—a magical plant-like construct—to assist. The Tree Guardian approached the box, but before it could act, Pickett darted forward, shoving the construct aside. With a determined expression, Pickett used his delicate fingers to manipulate the lock. A soft click echoed in the room as the box sprang open.

"Jealous, are we?" David teased, dismissing the Tree Guardian with a chuckle. He patted Pickett on the head before reaching into the box. Inside, he found a stack of letters and some photographs. However, the letters were all blank.

"Hidden writing," David muttered, tapping the papers thrice with his wand. "Aparecium!"

Nothing happened. Frustrated, David carried the contents upstairs. "Rove! Come check this out!" he called.

Rove looked up from the manuscripts he was rifling through and joined David in the studio. David handed him the blank letters.

"I tried Aparecium, but it didn't work," David explained. "If these were just blank papers, Grandpa wouldn't have locked them up so securely."

Rove examined the letters thoughtfully. "This is probably Grandpa's own concealment spell. Only Dad and Mom know how to undo it, but..." He grinned mischievously. "I've learned it on the sly."

He laid a letter flat on the table, tapping it with his wand. "Salamander," he intoned, drawing a looping '6' shape in the air. The letter quivered, and text began to materialize in Newt's distinctive handwriting.

David and Rove read through the letters, their expressions darkening with each revelation:

The R organization had resumed large-scale activities. A new subgroup within the organization was conducting cruel experiments on magical creatures, aiming to control them as tools or weapons. These operatives were described as ruthless, willing to fight to the death and destroy any animals they couldn't take. A mysterious group was also targeting the R organization. While their motives remained unclear, their actions had indirectly helped Newt's efforts against the R organization. Attempts to contact this group had been unsuccessful.

After reading, David handed Rove the photographs. "Try the same spell on these," he suggested.

Rove nodded, repeating the incantation. The images revealed horrifying scenes—injured and mutilated magical creatures, some barely recognizable. Pickett, who had been peeking curiously, quickly covered his eyes with his tiny hands, trembling.

David and Rove exchanged grim looks, their shared anger palpable.

"Damn these bastards," Rove growled, his fists clenched. David nodded silently, his mind racing with plans for retribution.