Demiguises were interesting creatures, and interesting creatures usually attract the attention of wizards for all the wrong reasons.

In the case of Demiguises, it was their ability to become invisible that made them an unfortunate target for the unquenchable greed of wizards. Ages ago, hunters had become quite obsessed with them, knowing that invisibility cloaks were a good means to earn Galleons. Therefore they pursued and captured Demiguises and used their long, silky hair to make cloaks and other garments for the wizard or witch who would pay more. And although those garments didn't last forever, people who couldn't perform concealment charms still bought them, so after a while the numbers of the creatures began to decrease alarmingly.

Although there was no proof of it, Newt had formed a theory that it was the danger of extinction itself that had caused Demiguises to acquire a new ability which saved their species. They became capable of foreseeing the near future, and acted accordingly, so catching them turned into an arduous task which required thorough knowledge and a good deal of unpredictability. Eventually, the hunting of Demiguises had come to a stop, and hardly anyone bothered to learn about the new nature of those creatures. Newt, however, was one of the very few who cared, and he was lucky enough to succeed in finding the Demiguise which he later called Dougal.

Even though Dougal's disposition was not particularly excellent, Newt had found it engaging to observe him closely. He had learned many new things in the process, even the small details regarding Dougal's behavior and habits. But one of the most important things he had noticed was that Dougal shed and regrew his hair normally, but in a rate higher than that of human beings. Newt had spent days after days collecting the strands of hair which fell from the Demiguise, then he began to examine them. He discovered that they had lost most of their properties, mainly that of invisibility, and at that moment he wondered if a reverse process would be possible. After several experiments, he managed to make the hairs invisible again by regularly drenching them in a mixture of salt water and Flobberworm mucus. 

When Newt had obtained enough strands of hair, he weaved a cloak for himself, without having any real intention to use it, but keeping it just in case he needed to. And the time had finally come; inside a toilet stall of an Egyptian Auror Station, he had brought out the Cloak and threw it over himself. It barely fit him, but he thought that if he didn't move too fast, there wouldn't be a problem because of that.

Newt opened the door of the stall and prepared to go out. At that moment, an Auror came in and shuffled towards the sinks to wash his hands. Newt stood still behind him, careful to produce no noise, and looked in the mirror to see no reflection of himself. He waited for the oblivious Auror to finish and leave before he made any movement at all.

It wasn't as easy as Newt thought it would be to make it through the Auror Station to the outside, where Farida was waiting for him. Even without his suitcase, for he had to leave it with Farida, the place was crowded enough to make him exceedingly careful not to brush against people as he passed. He averted that to a considerable degree, but at the exit, a man bumped into him. Luckily, though, the man didn't linger on it much; it seemed from the way he frowned at the exit door and the shrug he gave afterwards, that he thought he had walked into it.

When Newt was finally out, he saw Farida standing by herself away from the gate and across the street, the suitcase held tightly in her right hand. He approached her and whispered, "Farida, I'm back."

"All right," she said in a low voice, staring at the ground to avoid raising the suspicion of the pedestrians in the street. "Now we have to wait for her to get out." She fell silent for a second, then added with a tinge of worry, "Newt, you know that breaking into a Ministry official's office could get you in trouble, right? Are you sure this is going to work?"

"I hope it will."

For long minutes afterwards, they stood in silence, watching the gate of the station. People came and went, but Nabila was not one of them. Newt was beginning to become bored and tired. He glanced at Farida and saw that she too looked somewhat weary. The yawn she let out at that moment proved to him that indeed she was.

"Is she going to stay there forever?" she asked grumpily.

No sooner had Farida uttered those words than the tall, slim figure of Nabila came into view, accompanied by two other Aurors. A sudden wave of alertness washed over Newt and Farida and awakened them from their listless trance. Before Nabila could catch sight of Farida, the latter had sprung and hidden in a corner where she couldn't be seen by the Auror.

"Newt?" Farida whispered incredulously.

"Yes?" he said from beneath the cloak.

"Good luck," she said, smiling. "And be careful."

Newt nodded, forgetting for a moment that Farida wasn't able to see him.

He moved towards the Auror Station again. He had no problems entering, and then he walked down the same corridor through which Nabila had led them earlier until he reached her office. At first, he decided to test his luck by turning the handle of the door, but it was, as expected, locked. He knew he couldn't be that lucky.

He then tapped the door with his wand, casting Alohomora. There was a small click, which Newt thought indicated that the door had been unlocked successfully. However, it was too easy to be possible. That made Newt worried and anticipating something bad to occur once he had entered the office.

Yet when he tried to open the door, the handle did not even turn. That only meant one thing which Newt realized at once: the more he attempted to unlock the door, the more securely shut it became. The newfound challenge diminished Newt's apprehension that an unpleasant surprise would befall him, but it added an obstacle in his way. He would have to choose his next spell carefully.

Only then did it dawn on Newt that the Wizarding World lacked enough number of spells that could unlock doors without damaging them. There were numerous spells to blow up, to shrink and to transfigure objects, but only so few to do the simple yet most indispensable act of opening a closed door? Of course one could blow it up, or shrink it, or transfigure it, and it would end up as open as the caster wanted it to be, but that was far too uncivilized. Besides, Newt didn't want to draw attention to him, as there were a few people in the corridor who wouldn't fail to notice the blast.

"Stop it," Newt said to himself, shaking his head vigorously. "You're thinking like a thief would think. Now focus."

He racked his brain for another spell. There was another one he read about when he was younger.

"Reserare," he whispered. A wisp of yellow smoke emanated from the tip of his wand and disappeared through the keyhole. There came another small click, and Newt made to test if he had succeeded. But his hand had barely touched the handle when he drew it back. It was as scorchingly hot as forged iron. The challenge was getting more difficult to overcome.

Newt became completely still, the good ideas in his head as invisible as he was under the cloak. His hand throbbed with a sharp pain, distracting him from concentrating on anything that could help. He closed his eyes for several seconds, trying to clear his mind. He thought of the poor Thunderbird and how it needed to be rescued before it was too late. That thought proved to be helpful; an embryo of an idea was beginning to develop and take form with the renewed clarity of his mind.

"There's another spell," Newt said in a hardly audible whisper. "It cannot be detected, and thieves use it for that reason, so perhaps it could work on this door. But what was the incantation? Come on, what was it?"

His eyes still closed, Newt stamped the ground to release some of the tension and the frustration that filled him. But with the dull thump of his feet, another sound came, easily distinguishable and unmistakable. It was a click. Newt opened his eyes, only to see Pickett dangling from the keyhole and peeping at him. With a jolt, he also found that the door of the office was now ajar.

Newt stifled a loud laugh as he stared at Pickett, who looked immensely proud of himself. He picked him up and put him back into the pocket of his coat. How anyone could underestimate those marvelous creatures, Newt had no idea.

"You are the best, Pickett," he whispered to the Bowtruckle. "Thank you so much."

Newt didn't go inside immediately; he threw a glance behind and beside him to ensure that no one would see the door as it fully opened to let him in. When it seemed safe to do so, he pushed it slowly and he was finally in front of Nabila's desk.

As he knelt to reach the drawer in which Nabila had put the file, a sense of pessimism made him fear she might have moved it elsewhere. After all, she did not make it appear as if that case would be her top priority. But when he opened the drawer, he was relieved to find the file there. He grabbed it and duplicated it using his wand, then returned the original copy to its place.

In a few minutes, Newt was outside the Auror Station. He took off the cloak, then headed towards Farida, a wide grin showing on his face. She was still in the same place he had left her, watching, as he had asked her to, in case Nabila unexpectedly returned. When she saw the papyri in his hand, she sighed in evident relief.

"Well done, Newt," she said admiringly. "When you were a bit late I thought something bad happened."

"I had some trouble opening the door," said Newt, folding the Cloak and taking his suitcase from Farida. "But thanks to Pick here, I was able to unlock it."

"Of course you did." Farida nodded. "Nabila knows her protective spells, you'd expect anything from her. She once... but what's that?" A sudden grimace appeared on her face and her tone became concerned. "What's wrong with your hand?"

In the temporary euphoria of his success, Newt had forgotten about his hand, and now the sensation from it came back to him in the form of throbbing pain. It was reddened as if it had been soaked in blood, and he could barely move his fingers without making the pain increase.

"One of Nabila's charms, isn't it?" Farida asked, fuming.

"Yes," said Newt. "But don't be angry with her. After all, it was me who was trying to break into her office when I shouldn't be doing that."

Farida sighed. "You are unfortunately right. Now what are we going to do?"

"I think we could go back to your house to see what the file says about the man."

"I was talking about your hand."

"Oh." Newt blinked, feeling slightly foolish. "Well, I have some Murtlap Essence in my suitcase, which could help with that."

***
Author's note

Thanks so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you thought, and if you liked that bit I made up about Demiguises.