Chapter Text
Once, there was a hippogriff. A toy hippogriff, to be exact, stuffed full of love and cotton made from the clouds high, high above the sky. Your parents and brother would have plucked all the stars from the sky if you wished it, you know? Their love for you expands from the moon and back.
Once, there was a newt, with red spots stricken along its dark, slightly lumpy backs. It was lounging on the windowsill, just as you laughed at the silly faces your brother made for the first time. Your mother listened to the chimes of your laughter as she watched from afar. The newt’s eyes shined like bells, she mused. Later, in the dead of night, not a sound was heard but the hushed whispers of a mother and a father and the sounds of pages flipping, a small swish in the air as they decided something.
Unbeknownst to them, a small child, approximately 8 years old at this time, was listening. He sat near the bedroom door, waiting, anticipating, for something. For what exactly? He doesn’t know yet.
An owl hoots, gliding inside the house. It snaps the young child back to reality; his butt is numb from sitting beside the door for so long, but his long wait was not fruitless, for soon he hears a name drifting from the crack under the door. “Newton Artemis Fido Scamander”—it's a big name, and the child realizes it's what he was waiting for. “Newton Artemis Fido Scamander… Newton Artemis Fido Scamander," he murmurs under his breath. The cogs in his brain slowly spin as he tries to figure out who this was. Slowly, he starts to understand, saying the name with more confidence, faster even as his heartbeat speeds up as he walks over to a crib. He looks at the child in the crib, his younger brother. His hands clench the crib’s railings tightly, then unclench them, and clench them again. His heart is full, oh so full, that it feels it would burst out of his chest.
The moonlight shines through the peeks of the curtains, caressing two young children and the stuffed hippogriff.
A small voice was heard, witnessed by the multitude of creature plushes, before it was swallowed by the warmth of the bedroom, the glow-in-the-dark stickers on the wall, and the spinning baby mobile above the crib.
“Newton Artemis Fido Scamander”
A small babble follows.
“Yes, yes, that’s you."
Some quiet moments pass; a thought passes fleetingly through the child’s brain.
And I am Thesus… Oh, of course mum and dad would use Greek mythology.