In a three-story house near Ottery St Catchpole.
Eleven-year-old Kael Chopper was standing by the window, carefully looking at the piece of parchment in his hand.
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class; Chief Wizard of the Wizengamot; President of the International Confederation of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Chopper,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed is a list of all necessary books and equipment.
The term begins on September 1. We await your owl's reply by no later than July 31.
Deputy Headmistress (female) Minerva McGonagall
...
That's right—it was a Hogwarts acceptance letter.
Ever since Kael crossed into this world eleven years ago, he'd been waiting for this day.
As for how he was so sure, well, it was simple: there were several other special families living just a stone's throw away.
The ones Kael was most familiar with were the editor-in-chief of The Quibbler, Lovegood,
and the Weasleys.
Especially the latter—one glance at that bizarrely constructed house and a family of flaming redheads, and Kael immediately pinpointed exactly what kind of world this was.
It's also worth mentioning that living here at all meant that this Kael was also born into a wizard family in this lifetime.
His father, Chris Chopper, worked for the Ministry of Magic—as Deputy Minister of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and Head of the Beast Office. Thanks to the family's inherited gift of communicating with Fantastic Beasts, he was also a renowned Magizoologist—one of the few students Newt Scamander ever took on.
His mother, Diana, also worked at the Ministry of Magic, but in the Department of Mysteries. As for what exactly she did there, Kael had no idea. He had tried all kinds of subtle hints and roundabout questions, but none of them got him anywhere. Clearly, his parents had confidentiality baked into their bones—not even a single slip of information ever leaked out.
As for family background… Well, since no particularly distinguished ancestors ever turned up, it was all remarkably ordinary. Nowhere near those famous lineages, like Dumbledore or Grindelwald.
But even so, Kael was already more than satisfied. At least both of his parents were Wizards. Getting into Hogwarts was basically a sure thing.
Unless, of course, he was a Squib.
But that possibility had been crossed out after his first accidental outburst of Magic Power at the age of three.
Even though he'd known this day would come, when the owl really did peck open his window and deliver the envelope, Kael had been so excited he nearly bounced out of his skin.
He held that piece of parchment like it was treasure, even sleeping with it in his arms, needing to pull it out for a look every couple of days.
...
"Sweetheart, you've been reading that acceptance letter for three days straight. Can you put it down now? I promise you, it's absolutely genuine!"
Chris looked helplessly at his son, who had once again started grinning like an idiot, and couldn't help but remind him, "Don't forget, we've arranged to go to Diagon Alley with the Weasleys today. Let's not keep them waiting."
"Okay, Dad, I'm coming!"
When Kael heard this, he hurriedly put away the Hogwarts acceptance letter he'd read a countless number of times, jumped up from his seat, and gave a quick knock on a wooden stump nearby. "Groot, I'm off!"
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a little green fellow jumped out and waved at Kael.
There were Fantastic Beasts in Kael's house, though not many. Other than the Bowtruckle named Groot, there was also a Kneazle called Tom.
Even though Chris, in his role as Deputy Minister of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, could have easily kept a dozen or two Fantastic Beasts, he'd never done so. Even Groot and Tom only stayed because they outright refused to leave, which was the only reason they had been allowed to stay.
It wasn't that Chris didn't like Fantastic Beasts—he simply believed that so-called Fantastic Beasts never should be kept with Wizards in the first place.
If you keep them, they're just pets.
On this point, this usually gentle, affable gentleman—known for his easygoing nature around the Ministry—was unshakably firm.
And Newt Scamander supported this view as well.
Newt also believed Fantastic Beasts belonged in the wild, and he always acted accordingly.
As for why his magical suitcase seemed like a mobile zoo, well, that was entirely down to Newt's own "special constitution."
Kael had met the old man—more than once, in fact—so he could say so with some confidence.
Just like a certain "Grim Reaper" grade elementary school student, Newt Scamander seemed to have a similar magnetism for trouble… or animals, in this case.
Kael remembered vividly how, when he was five years old, out for a stroll in the garden with Newt, he saw with his own eyes a Diricawl dive straight into Newt's arms.
Bear in mind: Diricawls are natural-born Apparition experts. They might not be the brightest, and don't go out of their way to hide like other Fantastic Beasts, but they have extremely keen territorial awareness and danger Perception Ability.
The moment they sense a Wizard or any other threatening creature approaching, they vanish on the spot.
The very first sentence describing Diricawls in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them is, "You can look, but you can never get close."
And yet, that Diricawl had crashed into Newt's arms without skipping a beat.
Utterly absurd.
Then when he was seven, out with Newt again, they ran into a Fire Salamander.
When he was eight, it was an injured Unicorn.
At ten, he was almost turned into cauldron filler by a Fire Crab.
...
Among these Fantastic Beasts, some were escapees from magical creature smuggling, others wandered over for reasons unknown. No matter how you sliced it, they always managed to cross paths with Newt in the most bizarre ways.
And that was even with Newt staying mostly at home these days.
Back in the day, when he'd trekked around the world with his suitcase, returning Fantastic Beasts to their homes, the situation had been much worse.
For every Fantastic Beast he returned, a dozen or more new ones would flock to him. After years of this, it was little wonder his suitcase practically overflowed with magical creatures.
...
With this kind of oddball gift, no wonder Newt had made it onto nearly every Ministry's entry blacklist.
After all, before Newt met them, a lot of those Fantastic Beasts were downright nasty. Injured ones or those about to give birth were especially volatile—a slightest mishap and BOOM, instant mayhem.
Just imagine, you're chilling on a busy street with a nice afternoon tea, and suddenly a rampaging Manticore or Nundu pops out next to you… Ugh, even picturing it's enough to break you out in a cold sweat.
So honestly, Gellert and Voldemort? The Dark Lord? All those big, dramatic evil plans and world-threatening shenanigans—they still have to do things themselves? Please. Amateurs, the lot of them.
Now, look at Uncle Newt—he doesn't even need to lift a finger. Buy a plane ticket, spend a few days in your neighborhood sipping coffee and sightseeing, and boom—the place is wiped off the map. Not even any pesky consequences to worry about later.
Which is exactly why we should all respect Grandma Tina. Single-handedly keeping Newt sealed at home—if anyone deserves the Order of Merlin, First Class, it's her. No exaggeration.
The only ones really suffering are the British Magical Realm.
According to incomplete statistics, ever since Newt took up residence in Dorset, magical beast incidents at the Ministry have been shooting up exponentially. The British Magical Realm suddenly became smugglers' favorite destination to offload creatures—no competition.
Fortunately, in all these years, even if there's never been a shortage of small and large incidents, nothing too catastrophic has happened. The worst was some poor soul ended up with a couple scrapes.
Come to think of it, being Uncle Newt's birthplace, maybe this area gets some passive protection buff too.
But Chris wasn't so lucky. Because of his job, every now and then he'd be stuck doing overtime for days on end.
Still, judging by the look on Chris's face, he probably didn't mind too much.
...
When Kael got to the door, he saw that, in addition to Chris, his mother Diana had also, unusually, come home early from the Ministry of Magic. She was standing there, smiling warmly at him.
Her long black hair was perfectly arranged, the black robe with white trim looked elegant and dignified on her, and that pair of light blue eyes gazed softly at Kael.
Elegant and intellectual.
That's always been Kael's impression of Diana.
Instinctively, Kael glanced at Chris… Okay, he was kind of good-looking too, with traces of his charm from younger days. The two of them made quite the pair.
The important thing was, Chris wasn't bald. Even though he was pushing forty, the distance between his hairline and his eyebrows remained a rock-solid inch—stark contrast to Mr. Weasley next door.
With such winning genes, it was no wonder Kael turned out so well himself. Among the people he knew, he'd easily rank first for looks—already showing "devastatingly handsome" potential at his age.
Not that it mattered. Kael never let it get to his head—good looks weren't exactly a career plan.
"Sorry I'm late."
Kael walked between his parents, apologizing apologetically.
"If you could just put that letter away, you probably wouldn't be late. And I promise you, Hogwarts isn't going to leave the UK just because you didn't look after your acceptance letter."
Chris shot Kael a teasing look and tossed out a freshly made-up joke.
Well… that sort of counted as a joke. At least, Chris himself seemed pretty pleased with it.
As for Kael, even though he had no idea what Chris was laughing about, he politely tugged up the corners of his mouth, doing his sonly duty to give his old man some face.
Luckily, the awkwardness didn't last long.
"Alright, it's getting late. Time to head out,"
Diana said with a gentle smile, breaking up the father-son cringe fest and taking Kael's hand. "There's lots to buy for school. We should hurry, and it's rude to keep the Weasleys waiting."
As she finished speaking, there was a crisp crack as she Disapparated, taking Kael with her.
Seeing this, Chris hurriedly Apparated after them.
...