A week later, Matthew arrived in Dorset.
The famous Magizoologist Newt Scamander lived here.
Some time ago, Matthew had exchanged letters with him about the Obscurus.
Matthew had come today at Newt's invitation.
He had also brought Preserved Egg. Preserved Egg had used Magic to shrink himself considerably and was lying atop Matthew's head.
Newt Scamander's home was located on an inconspicuous farmstead. From the outside, it looked little different from a Muggle country farm.
Before the estate lay a field of corn.
This corn was no ordinary plant. Matthew keenly sensed faint Magic Fluctuations coming from the field.
"This corn smells so good..." After approaching the field, Matthew found that the corn gave off a rich, enticing fragrance even without its husks being peeled away, like the first burst of corn aroma released when the lid was lifted from a pot of steamed corn.
A pleasant female voice, clear as a flowing spring, sounded behind Matthew. "You can eat it directly. Want to try some?"
Matthew quickly turned around. A fair-skinned, beautiful maiden stood behind him.
She looked around Matthew's age. Her flaxen hair was braided, and she wore a sun hat and a pale yellow dress. Beneath the hem of her skirt were her fair thighs and slightly pink knees. On her feet were grayish-white rain boots, just long enough to cover her calves. She also wore a pair of grayish-white rubber gloves and held a crescent-shaped sickle in her hand.
Matthew could not sense any Magic Fluctuations from her.
However, upon closer inspection, he could still tell that she was not a Muggle. There were faint Magic Fluctuations around her.
It was simply that the Magic Fluctuations on her body were too weak, even weaker than those emitted by the cornfield.
A Squib? Matthew thought.
Matthew smiled.