Dipping his burned hand in Murtlap Essence, Newt felt the pain lessen instantly as the cold solution came into contact with his skin. They were back at Farida's house, and with no more pain to distract him, Newt's curiosity regarding the man, Makram Ibrahim, had reached its peak.

Farida had opened the file and was scanning it with her eyes. Newt watched as her expression changed during the few moments of her silent reading. Her eyebrows were raised, knitted in a frown, then raised again, but somehow it was different from the first time. She had such an expressive face, Newt thought.

"Well?" said Newt, turning his hand in the bowl. "What does it say?"

"An interesting man," said Farida, "but quite dangerous, it seems. Your teacher was not wrong about him."

Newt was about to ask her to elaborate, but she did so on her own.

"You see," she held out the file for Newt to see and began to trace the words written upon with her forefinger. "Makram Nazmy Ibrahim, born in eighteen-seventy-two, in Cairo... worked for the Ministry, Department of International Magical Cooperation, for three years, but then resigned... the rest is just personal information, really — marital status and this sort of thing. And that's him, in the picture."

Newt's gaze landed at the photograph pinned on the first page. Makram had a craggy face, and his features showed a general lack of emotion and an air of apathy, both so evident that he seemed like an exceptionally realistic waxwork. His eyes, on the contrary, were shrewd and full of life, and the more Newt stared at them, the more he had the uneasy feeling of being blatantly judged.

Farida then turned the page and continued to translate aloud. "Here they recorded all his travels. In the last two years alone, he has been to France, Italy, Germany, Brazil, China, Japan, America and India. And below you find the dates of departure and entry, and the means of travel he used. Now I wonder, are there interesting creatures in these places?"

"Plenty of them." Newt nodded. "Thunderbirds, for example, are native to North America. That could be where he found the Thunderbird he has."

"That might explain it, then, "said Farida in a thoughtful tone. "Of course as a Ministry official, he got to travel a lot, but as it says here, he resigned a long time ago. So I think the reason he continued to travel was to find creatures. Now look here," she flipped another page, "that's his criminal record."

Newt shifted in his seat as he became more alert.

"He was expelled from Iunu in his fifth year for endangering human life," said Farida. Newt wasn't sure if her tone had really changed, or if he was simply imagining that. "After that, he was caught by the Aurors for performing some illegal spells, but since he wasn't an adult, he didn't end up in prison. That's why I think he's a dangerous man. If he was that young and could do these spells, which even adults struggle with, then you can only imagine how powerful he is now. But wait — I'm sorry, Newt — I didn't mean to make you worry."

The change in Newt's expression wasn't because he was worried. His mind was merely lingering on the similarity between him and Ibrahim, as he, too, had been expelled from Hogwarts for the same reason. Newt couldn't help but wonder if Ibrahim had been innocent like him, but the injustice he had faced was what caused him to become a criminal.

"No, I am all right," Newt answered. "What else is there?"

"In his criminal record? Nothing that has to do with beasts or magical creatures. So if it's true that this man is in this trade, then he's doing a good job at not being caught."

"The file is not of much use then," Newt said, a little grudgingly.

Farida's gaze turned to him. "Who said that? I haven't finished yet. Look here... his property." She flipped the page again. "Let me tell you, the man is rich. He inherited not just money from his family, but also ten acres of land in the south, and a very large house here in Cairo. Do you know what this means?"

Newt shook his head, not having even a trace of a clue.

"He was not born in a family of wizards. He is — Muggle, was it the word? He is Muggle-born."

Newt did not understand how Farida came to that conclusion from such little information. His confusion apparently showed on his face.

"Wizards and witches here don't own ten acres of land, because as I told you, we live in specific places only," Farida explained. "That means that most of the land belongs to the Muggles, and since the Ministry wants us to avoid problems by staying away from them, the law doesn't allow us to own more than two acres. The only exception to that is those who were already born in Muggle families and know how to deal with them."

"I understand now. And that house, it is in the Muggle territory too, I assume?"

"That's right," Farida answered. "In fact, the address is familiar to me. It's near my father's house."

"Your parents are Muggles?" Newt asked.

"Well, my father is." Farida's lips twitched with a sort of sardonic smile, which faded quickly as she rose to her feet. "Now, I suggest we go to that house. We could find something useful there. What do you think?"

Newt wondered why his question had that impact on her, but he decided not to pry and to pretend that he didn't hear her answer. "I think we should go to the house like you suggested. But first, I need to feed my creatures. And I also need to prepare a place for the Thunderbird, since it is possible we will find it soon."

Newt put the bowl of Murtlap Essence aside. The inflammation of his hand had lessened considerably, and the pain had almost ceased. Then he moved towards his suitcase and opened it, failing to notice  the frown with which Farida regarded him. But when he turned to her, he saw it and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Where are the creatures you are going to feed?" she said, looking baffled.

"In here," Newt replied simply, pointing at the open suitcase. "I told you about it when we were at the Auror Station."

"I thought you were joking," Farida shrugged.

When Newt thought about it, he saw Farida's point in finding that quite unbelievable. He didn't know what to say next, so he went down the suitcase, leg first, until his head was the only visible part of his body.

"Would you like to help me?" he asked.

"Yes." Her puzzled expression became an amused grin. "Yes, I would."

Newt disappeared into the suitcase and waited for Farida to follow him. She descended carefully, and when her feet touched the ground, a wave of admiration passed over her face, almost illuminating it. Her eyes surveyed her surroundings, and again Newt saw in them the childish joy she had previously showed when she saw Pickett.

"It's bigger on the inside," Farida said in evident interest.

"Yes, it is."

"You used an Extension Charm, am I right?"

"Yes," Newt answered, smiling. "Quite illegal, but very helpful."

"And you keep your beasts over there right?" She indicated the light curtain that separated the entrance from the numerous habitats in which the creatures lived.

Newt nodded and gestured for her to follow him.

Farida looked mesmerized the instant she stepped into the world which Newt had build for his creatures. Soon, the creatures themselves came into view; some of them were asleep, while the majority were awake and poked their heads to see who was coming. And Farida glided forward, as if hypnotized, contemplating all that around her. Newt felt that she didn't need him to guide her, so instead he followed her lead as she explored the interior of the suitcase.

They first came to a stop at the Erumpent habitat. Farida paid special attention to the grass and the trees which, being slightly pale, seemed to acquire a golden hue in the perpetual sunset that provided just enough warmth as it did enough light.

Next, they reached the nest of Occamies, where their eggs lay shimmering with the gleam of pure silver they were made of. Farida approached them, and made to hold one of the eggs, but Newt stopped her at once. Their mother had writhed its serpentine body more securely around the eggs, and its wings spread, enshrouding them in their feathers. Newt knew it was feeling attacked at that moment, and was going to react aggressively if it sensed that any danger might threaten her children.

"You see, Farida, Occamies are so protective of their eggs," Newt explained. "You have to gain their trust  before they allow you to get too close to them."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know." Farida shambled back at once.

"It's all right," Newt told her mildly. Then he knelt beside the nest and addressed the Occamy in a soft voice, "You too, it is all right. No one is going to take away your eggs. They're safe and you don't have to worry."

Slowly, the Occamy's body began to loosen up and its wings shrank in size. Newt stroke its head gently, then rose to his feet.

"They like you very much, don't they?" Farida said admiringly.

Newt's cheeks reddened, and he was at loss for words; he never knew what to say in situations like these if "thank you" was not an appropriate response. But luckily for him, it didn't seem that Farida was awaiting an answer. The tree of the Bowtruckles had seized her attention, and before Newt could open his mouth, she had walked over to it.

"Hello, little ones," she cooed as the Bowtruckles emerged from behind the branches. "Aren't you beautiful?"

"You have to be a little stern with them," said Newt, his voice bearing a strict, yet not unkind tone. "Their behavior has been unacceptable lately. They were bullying poor Pickett, and I made it clear that this was not and will never be allowed. Didn't I?" He turned to the Bowtruckles, raising his eyebrows.

On hearing his name, Pickett showed up through the pocket of Newt's coat. He stuck out his tongue at his peers, then slid back again to his temporary home.

"You are better than this, Pick," Newt said, with a soft chuckle. He turned to Farida and added, "Now it's time to feed them."

Farida's help proved to be of great value, and Newt appreciated her genuine excitement and the interest she showed in even the simplest of things. Gradually, Newt found himself more and more at ease to talk about his creatures without fearing it might be a boring topic. As they went about their different habitats, he shared random information about each of them, and Farida met that with excellent questions that only made Newt more comfortable to speak.

"Dougal," he called out when they had reached the habitat of the Demiguise. When Dougal did not appear, Newt let out a sigh. "He always keeps wandering around the suitcase. The only problem is that he could make himself invisible, so it is hard for me to see where he is. But normally, it is the disturbance he causes that leads me to him."

"Disturbance? Like what?"

A loud crash came from the nearby shed where Newt kept his books and his tools.

"Like that." Newt indicated the source of the sound, then strode towards the shed, a bucket of food in his hand.

When Newt opened the door of the shed, they saw a gray shadow as Dougal disappeared, leaving pieces of broken glass in the spot he had occupied seconds ago. Newt stood completely still, staring into the empty interior. A few moments passed in utter silence, and then Newt raised the bucket slightly in the dim light emitting from the shed.

"I have food, Dougal," he said clearly.

Nothing happened at all.

"If you want it, follow me," Newt added, then made his way back to the Demiguise habitat.

A minute had passed before Newt felt the warmth of Dougal's fur around his legs. When he looked down, the Demiguise became no longer invisible. Newt smiled at him and handed him the bucket of food, which Dougal took gladly.

Newt, then, threw a glance at the shed and saw that Farida was still there.

"I thought I should clean up the mess," she said when Newt came back. "And then I saw those... is this your family?"

She was holding a frame which had a picture of Newt when he was younger. He was standing next to Theseus, and his parents were on either side of them, grinning and waving their hands.

"Yes," said Newt, taking the frame and staring into the picture inside. "We were in Hogsmeade, celebrating my older brother's graduation from Hogwarts."

"Oh, I have a brother, too, and a sister," said Farida. "They are my half-brother and my half-sister to be exact... younger than me... Muggles, so they didn't graduate from Iunu... but they are great, although I don't get to see them as much as I want to."

"Why?" Newt couldn't conquer his curiosity this time. "Is it because of your magic?"

"Yes, but it's not them who hate my magic." She clicked her tongue and a small, bitter laugh escaped her mouth. "No, of course not, it was never them. It's my father. And I don't want them to have a hard life with him because of me, so I'm keeping my distance, that is all."

"I'm sorry, Farida," Newt told her, finding nothing else to say.

"Don't be." Farida shrugged, then pointed at the picture again. "You look a lot like your mother, by the way. It's the eyes... you have her eyes."

"That's true."

"I think I have my mother's eyes, too," Farida pointed out with some uncertainty. "You see, none of my father's family have green eyes like mine, so I think I have it from my mother's side."

"You think?"

"Well, I never really knew her," she answered, her voice becoming peculiarly quiet. "She left after I was born, so I have no idea who she is. But at least yesterday — just before I met you — I knew for sure that she is a witch. That's an improvement."

"But how come they have kept that from you all these years?" Newt asked.

"I wish I knew. But my father said it to me loudly enough that I was just as evil and abnormal as she is, so that doesn't leave any place for doubt that I got my magic from her, don't you think?"

At that moment, Newt noticed that tears began to well up in Farida's eyes, making him regret asking those questions. He was unable to believe how anyone could be that cruel to their own daughter, merely because she was different. He was about to open his mouth to say something comforting, but Farida had turned again to the shed, bringing back another frame.

"Who is this beautiful girl?" she asked, her eyes still glistening despite her changing the topic.

Newt looked at Leta's picture. He felt a lump form in his throat, making it hard to answer.

"Leta Lestrange," Farida read the name on the back of the frame. "Is that a friend of yours?"

"I'm sorry, Farida, but I think the rest of the creatures are very hungry," Newt said, trying hard to make his voice even and devoid of emotion. "We need to go and feed them."

With that, Newt pivoted on his heels and walked away. A moment later, Farida was back with him, and Newt hoped that she wouldn't ask any questions about Leta. For her picture alone was enough to open the gates which encompassed his stifled heartbreak.