Early the next morning, Fred and George stormed back to St. Catchpole Village, too angry to bother with breakfast.
But they didn't get to see Kyle as they'd hoped.
"What, he's out?"
"Yeah, like ten minutes ago," said Chris. "Mr. Scamander thought it was about time Kyle saw the world, so he took him on a holiday."
He opened the door and gestured for the two men to come in. "You haven't had breakfast yet, have you?"
"No, we—"
Fred's reply was cut off as a tantalizing aroma wafted through the air. It smelled like grilled steak, but there was an additional subtle fragrance, light and refreshing, reminiscent of morning dew or freshly picked fruit.
Their noses seemed to take charge, leading them into the house without a second thought.
Chris waved his wand with a knowing smile, and two steaming, fragrant steaks floated out of the kitchen, landing neatly on empty plates at the table.
"The hind leg of a deer from the Hebrides Islands, which is also one of the favorite foods of the Hebridean Black Dragons, alongside Graphorns," Chris said with a grin.
"This creature isn't native to the UK; Mr. Scamander had it specially brought over. Go on, give it a try."
"Well, we won't be rude then," Fred and George replied, practically in unison. They sat down, barely able to resist digging in.
The moment they took their first bite, they were hooked. The meat was beyond delicious—rich, tender, and flavorful in a way they had never experienced. Whether or not the Hebridean Black dragons loved it, they certainly did.
Before they realized it, half the steak had vanished from their plates.
"Why are we here...?" Fred began to ask, but as the words formed, they faded away, lost in the haze of satisfaction that came with another bite of the delectable meat.
Forget it, never mind, let's eat first.
...
Meanwhile, Kyle had followed Newt to a remote location surrounded by a series of peaks. They now stood atop one of the summits.
"In the south of Romania..." Newt pointed ahead. "If you keep going straight from here, you'll reach Bulgaria. I've traveled this road many times and remember it well."
Kyle glanced at him and said slowly, "So this must not be an officially marked road, right?"
"At least we got the Portkey through the proper channels," Newt replied, slipping a brooch into his pocket with a small sigh. "That one worked perfectly. I've gone through a lot of trouble over the years to acquire certain Portkeys. Once, I even ended up with a fake one—it cost a fortune in Galleons and dropped me off completely in the wrong place."
Kyle, knowing Newt was referring to his younger days when he was relocating magical creatures worldwide, couldn't resist asking, "What happened to the guy who sold you the fake? Didn't you go after him?"
"Of course I did, but I couldn't find him," Newt said with a shrug. "That's typical. Selling Portkeys is illegal, so those who do it never stay in one spot for long."
"But I later heard he did something significant. Apparently, one day, he became a national hero in his country."
Kyle struggled to maintain a straight face. Selling fake Portkeys and then becoming a national hero? It wasn't something you saw every day—even in the wizarding world. Then again, if it was a Portkey and it had involved Newt, anything seemed possible.
After all, if the man had saved his country from disaster, a hero's title didn't seem too far-fetched.
"How did you find out?" Kyle asked, curious. "Did he tell you himself?"
"No, I heard it from another Portkey seller. Supposedly, he returned my Galleons afterward. I'd bet the owl delivering the money had been flying for at least a month—it was so scrawny when it finally found me. Poor little thing."
Newt seemed uninterested in lingering on tales of his youth. His gaze shifted to their surroundings, as though searching for someone.
"That's strange. Dumbledore said the person meeting us would be nearby and that we'd recognize her immediately. Where is she?"
"I believe you're the ones I've been waiting for," said a deep voice behind them.
Newt turned around first, tilting his head to get a better view of the speaker.
Standing before them was Madam Maxime of Beauxbatons, nearly ten feet tall and impossible to miss.
"Oh, that's quite an impressive Disillusionment Charm," Newt remarked.
"Though I'd love to take credit for that," Madam Maxime replied with a smile, "the real me isn't even here yet. This is only a projection."
She chuckled lightly. "I'm afraid no one in the wizarding world surpasses you in Disillusionment Charms, Mr. Scamander. If I tried to use one, I'd be spotted immediately."
Newt smiled but said nothing.
Kyle then noticed something near Madam Maxime's feet—a mirror-like device half-buried in a pile of leaves, making it easy to overlook.
Moments later, with a faint pop, the real Madam Maxime arrived. She stepped forward, extending her hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Scamander. Your work has always been an essential part of Beauxbatons' curriculum."
"The honor is mine," Newt said, shaking her hand.
Turning to Kyle, she added, "And you, Kyle. I'm glad we meet again."
"Me too, Madam Maxime," Kyle said with a smile.
"I've heard of your accomplishments this year," she said warmly. "Even hired by the English Ministry of Magic? That's quite impressive for someone so young."
"It was nothing," Kyle replied modestly.
"You're too humble," she said, shaking her head. "Our Ministry would never hire a normal sixth-year student—nor would yours, I'm sure."
With a sly smile, she added, "I regret not knocking you out and taking you with me when I had the chance. But now, with your new status, doing so would lead to an international incident."
Kyle let out an awkward chuckle, eager to change the topic. "So, what are we really here for?"
"You don't know?" Madam Maxime asked, raising an eyebrow. She glanced at Newt. "You didn't tell him?"
"I forgot," Newt admitted, rubbing his head. "Well, no harm done—it's not too late to explain. We're here because of the Giants."
"Giants?" Kyle echoed, realization dawning. That explained why Madam Maxime was involved. But where was Hagrid?
"What's the current situation?" Newt asked.
"It's complicated," Madam Maxime said, her tone lowering. "I've been monitoring their movements. Their Gurg, Golgomath, has fully aligned with the Death Eaters. Recently, he began leading the clan in a migration, and based on their direction, their destination is Britain."
"They've already started?" Newt frowned. "Why so soon?"
"The Death Eaters," Madam Maxime explained grimly. "A wizard in black robes visited Golgomath's cave yesterday. By nightfall, they had begun migrating."
"They must be stopped," Newt said firmly. "Otherwise, Muggle villages will suffer along the way."
"One already has," Madam Maxime sighed. "Hagrid and I managed to evacuate the Muggles just before dozens of Giants trampled the village."
Newt's expression hardened. Without hesitation, he began preparing to leave.
But Madam Maxime raised a hand, signaling for him to pause.
"We've already checked, and there's no other village in their immediate path," Madam Maxime said. "Besides, Hagrid is keeping watch, and he'll contact me right away if anything happens."
"No, you're wrong," Newt said gravely. "Giants are inherently brutal. They won't simply take the shortest route; they'll actively seek out places with signs of life."
Madam Maxime didn't question Newt's words. If anyone knew more about Giants than she did, it was undoubtedly the man standing before her. Without hesitation, she quickened her pace.
"Follow me—they're not far now..."
As they walked, Newt glanced at Kyle, who still seemed puzzled.
"Wondering why you were brought along?" he asked.
"Yes," Kyle admitted with a nod.
Logically, if Newt needed help, Chris—Kyle's father—would have been the obvious choice. That's how things had been handled in the past.
"That's because Chris is too conspicuous," Newt explained. "If he suddenly disappeared from the Ministry of Magic, the Death Eaters would likely suspect we were targeting the Giants. They might respond by sending reinforcements, possibly even involving other members of the Order of the Phoenix."
"But you're different. You don't have a significant public role yet, so your absence won't draw attention. Even if you leave for a while, the Death Eaters are unlikely to notice."
Kyle raised an eyebrow. So I'm... inconspicuous?
He shrugged, conceding that Newt had a point. Still, it stung a little. Who's he looking down on...
But then a thought struck him, and he asked anxiously, "But yesterday, at the station, weren't you seen by a lot of people? Is that a problem?"
"Not at all," Newt replied with a small smile. "In fact, at this very moment, the British 'me' is on his way toward the Black Forest."
"The Black Forest?"
"It's where the Werewolves were last sighted," Newt explained. "Their situation is also problematic, but the Giants are a more immediate concern."
"And honestly," he continued, "bringing you along isn't just about needing your help. With Madam Maxime and Hagrid here, we already have plenty of support."
"Then why am I here?" Kyle asked, genuinely curious.
"To prepare you for what's coming," Newt said simply. "We all agreed—Chris included—that it's important for you to get some experience before the real war begins."
Kyle's eyes widened slightly. "My mother agreed to this too?" he asked instinctively.
For a moment, Newt didn't reply, then smoothly changed the subject. "What you're doing now is exactly what Chris and Diana did at the start of the last war."
"They fought against Giants, Trolls, Werewolves—kept most of the Dark Creatures off the battlefield. If they hadn't, that war would've been far more catastrophic."
"That's true," Madam Maxime chimed in, her voice serious. "Dark Creatures can have an outsized impact during a war. Oh, we've arrived."
As she spoke, a massive figure leapt out from the side. The creature was holding a huge crossbow with its string drawn taut, ready to fire.
"It's us, Hagrid—don't shoot!" Madam Maxime called out.
Hagrid relaxed, lowering his bowstring when he recognized them.
"Sorry, Olympe," he said, then glanced at the newcomers. "Has Professor Dumbledore's man arrived?"
"He's already here," Madam Maxime replied, stepping aside to reveal Newt and Kyle.
"Mr. Scamander! I had a feeling it'd be you. And Kyle..."
Hagrid's expression shifted from surprise to bewilderment. "Wait... What? Kyle? Why are you here? Did you sneak after me? Go back!"
"No, Hagrid," Newt interjected calmly. "I brought Kyle with me, and Dumbledore approved it."
"What?" Hagrid exclaimed, incredulous. "He's still a student! Have all the members of the Order of the Phoenix gone mad? You're bringing a student—who hasn't even graduated—into something this dangerous? Giants aren't Trolls; they're far more deadly than most Death Eaters!"
"Of course I know that," Newt said, his tone steady. "But our goal isn't to fight all the Giants. With Madam Maxime and me here, Kyle won't be in any real danger."
Newt spoke with such calm confidence that Hagrid hesitated, unsure of how to respond.
Finally, Hagrid sighed and relented. "Fine. But, Kyle, you stay close to me. Don't wander off, no matter what."
"Got it," Kyle agreed quickly.
"Hagrid, where are they?" Maxime asked.
"Over there," Hagrid said, pointing toward a nearby valley. "Because there are Death Eaters following us, I didn't dare get too close, but this spot's just as good."
The three of them turned their gaze to where Hagrid pointed.
As he had said, there was no need to get any closer to observe the Giants. Their sheer size and movement made them impossible to miss.
In the distance, a group of Giants moved through the valley, their progress deceptively fast. Though their strides appeared slow, their massive steps covered significant ground quickly.
"What are we going to do?" Hagrid asked. "Last time, when Olympe and I were here, we had a falling out with Golgomath, the Gurg. He doesn't trust us. If we show up again, it'll end in a fight, and we're no match for this many Giants."
"We don't need to face them all," Newt said, standing on the hill and observing the group intently. His expression grew serious. "It looks like some of them are reluctant."
"That's true," Hagrid said, nodding. "About half of them don't like Golgomath's rule. They don't want to fight wizards and witches, but they're too scared to resist him."
"That simplifies things," Newt said after a moment of thought. "If we can deal with Golgomath, the rest of the Giants will have no choice but to return to the tribe and elect a new Gurg."
"If the new Gurg refuses to cooperate with the Death Eaters, the crisis will be averted."
"That's easier said than done," Maxime said, her voice heavy with concern. "Golgomath is at least twenty feet tall, and the Giants stick together. We can't separate him from the rest. If we try to take him out, we'll end up fighting the whole group."
"We have to try," Newt said firmly, then turned to Kyle. "Do you have your suitcase with you?"
"Of course," Kyle replied. How could he travel without it?
"Good." Newt pulled out his own suitcase. "Giants and Dragons are natural enemies. The fire Dragons breathe is something Giants deeply fear. It's the best way to cause chaos within their ranks."
Kyle nodded in understanding and opened his suitcase.
To Madam Maxime's utter astonishment, two massive adult Dragons emerged before her, their immense forms towering over the group.
"Oh, Merlin..." she breathed, stepping back instinctively, her eyes wide as she stared at the colossal beasts.
Hagrid, on the other hand, was spellbound. His eyes lit up with delight as he stepped forward, seemingly mesmerized by the shimmering scales reflecting the sunlight.
"Hungarian Horntail and Norwegian Ridgeback... Norbert?" Hagrid's voice faltered as he stared at the Ridgeback, recognition dawning.
The Norwegian Ridgeback responded with a joyful snort, its fiery breath puffing into the air.
Hagrid froze for a moment, his expression a mix of awe and excitement. "It is Norbert!"
The Ridgeback's reaction confirmed it—it recognized Hagrid and was visibly pleased. But in its excitement, it seemed to have forgotten just how much it had grown.
The greeting came in the form of two fiery blasts, streaming down dangerously close to the group.
Fortunately, Maxime acted quickly, extending her long leg and kicking Hagrid out of harm's way.
"You're insane, Hagrid!" she snapped, frowning as she brushed ash off her robes. "That's a Dragon!"
"Oh, it's alright, Olympe," Hagrid said, brushing himself off as he got back to his feet. "It's a dragon I raised from an egg. I don't think it meant any harm—just got a bit too excited to see me again and wasn't watching what it was doing."
His face lit up with a wide grin. "Oh... it remembers me—Norbert!" Hagrid beamed.