Leta rushed to the library, hoping that Newt would be there, studying Care of Magical Creatures and Magizoology. Turns out that he was, but, to Leta's dismay, he was asleep, resting on top of his notebook, ink dribbling on the desk.
"Oh, Merlin!" she muttered, "Not again!"
He was muttering some kind of gibberish in his sleep, probably some creature terminology.
"Nifflers, Fwoopers, Bowtruckles. Blue, pink, green."
Leta was stuck to the spot. He muttered some more.
"Erumpents, Kelpies, Demiguises. Grey, green, white."
He suddenly woke up in shock to find he wasn't in his suitcase, as he thought he was. He was counting his creatures and noting their characteristics in his subconscious state. He took in his surroundings for at least a minute, finally realising where he was.
"Oh. Why am I in the library?" he whispered to himself, not opening his eyes. "Let's retrace my steps. I was in the Great Hall, eating lunch. Then I came here to relax my mind and must've dozed off. Time flies by when you're having fun!"
"And while you are sleeping!" Leta chuckled.
Newt turned around to find Leta observing his every move. Frozen.
"Leta?!" he exclaimed, sitting up immediately, "Why are you here?"
"I had the slightest inkling that you would be here. I came to help you with some research. Turns out you were asleep, and you woke up to find me here, stuck to the spot." she chuckled.
They both felt history repeating itself, almost as if time was bending around them, shaping their every thought, word and deed.
"Well, do you need any help?" she questioned, hoping there was something productive that they could connect on.
"Ah..." he paused, "Oh yes! First and foremost, the state of this desk." They both stared at the black pool of ink seeping into the desk and Newt's uniform.
"Easy!" she exclaimed. She pulled out her wand, pointed it at the desk and spoke,
"Scourgify!"
And with one swift movement, she cleared the stains. She repeated this for Newt's clothes.
"Thanks!" he replied. "Next, do you mind holding my creatures while I draw some diagrams? he asked.
"Um..." she hesitated. "What if they don't like me? What if they become nervous? Or attack me?" she asked timidly, worried for her own safety, the creatures and their safety and Newt's possible disappointment. Mostly the last one.
"Oh! They'll be fine! If they do bite, it won't be major, and I'll help you! How does that sound?" he spoke enthusiastically.
"It is his passion after all!" she thought.
"Oh, it wouldn't hurt!" she exclaimed, ready to brave the task.
"Ok. First, the Bowtruckle. They usually climb onto you. Hold your hand out steady, so they have support, like so." he demonstrated.
He pulled the Bowtruckle out of his suitcase.
"This is Pickett." he showed Leta as she marvelled at its unique characteristics. "Now come on Pick!" he instructed.
Pickett chirped happily and performed the action with ease.
"Now, you try!" he exclaimed quite joyously, overjoyed to be teaching his best friend.
"Ok..." she said nervously. "Come on, Pick." she clicked her tongue, hoping to attract its attention. Pickett chirruped excitedly and raced up Leta's arm onto her hand and posed, stick figure straight.
"Well done! Now, hold still."
He quickly sketched out Pickett, annotating the diagram with features, height and habitat.
Leta stared at the diagram with fascination. "How did you find all that from Pickett standing as still as a statue?"
"As I like to call it, the Magizoologist's eye. If you study Magizoology, like me, you tend to see things from a different perspective, with analytical and qualitative calculations visible like that!" he clicked his fingers.
"Next, the Niffler. Do you have anything shiny in your possession at the moment?"
"What? Yes! Of course, I do!" she said teasingly.
"Well. Give it to me." With force, he said, as if he were a marshall in an army. "My Niffler will steal it off you if you don't!" he teased.
"Prove it." She challenged as she held out her silver locket worn around her neck.
The Niffler scurried out of the suitcase, eyes peeled for jewellery. As quick as lightning, it grabbed the locket out of her hand and stuffed it in its pouch.
"Told ya!" he smirked. "Now give it back you pilfering pest!" he held the Niffler tightly and shook it upside down.
"Come on. Come on!" he muttered to himself. "Aha!" he smiled, holding the locket out to her.
"Thanks!" she said gratefully. "Now, you need to sketch the little bugger!"
"Of course," he muttered, sketching another diagram with the same speed as before.
"I think that's all," he said, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "Thanks for the help."
"My pleasure!" she giggled joyously, just like Myrtle.
"Newt Scamander, check!" she thought, relieved. "One down, one to go."