Douglas looked at the lovely old couple, a gentle yet helpless smile curving his lips.
He set down his teacup and leaned forward slightly, his casual, joking expression giving way to solemnity.
"In this world, fooling Mrs. Scamander's eyes is probably harder than getting Mr. Scamander to hand over his Niffler."
Douglas sighed softly, tapping his long fingers against his knee twice.
"You're right. There is indeed something-or rather, a specimen-I need your help with."
"A specimen?"
Newt keenly picked up on the word. This was the field he knew best.
The wariness in his eyes was instantly replaced by curiosity.
"What is it? Some kind of cursed magical creature? Or an unknown magical hybrid?"
Douglas did not answer immediately.
He reached into the inner pocket of his trench coat.
He lifted out a cage tightly wrapped in black cloth and gently placed it on the coffee table before him.
The cage was not large, measuring only about two feet square, but it radiated an unsettling chill.
Even through the black cloth, that cold, slimy aura, brimming with malice, instantly made the fur of several Kneazles on the carpet stand on end.
"Hiss!"
Mo Le, who had been lying belly-up a moment ago, abruptly rolled over and sprang up, arching his back and letting out a piercing hiss at the cage, his golden pupils narrowing into dangerous vertical slits.
"Quiet, Mo Le."
Newt soothed his frightened pet, but his own expression also grew serious.
He could sense a living creature beneath that black cloth.
"This is a trophy I seized from the Dark Lord on that night of resurrection not long ago."
Douglas's voice was low and steady, as though he feared disturbing something.
"To be precise, this is his closest... companion."
He reached out and slowly lifted the black