"Clack."
A sharp sound rang out.
The teacup slipped from Newt's hand and landed on the thick carpet. Though it did not break, the remaining tea spilled out, soaking his old tweed trousers.
The old man, who had faced dragons and had not backed down even before Grindelwald's ring of gas-stove flames, now looked as though an invisible bolt of lightning had struck him.
He stood rigid, his lips slightly parted, his usually shy, evasive eyes now wide and fixed on the snake in the cage.
"What did you say... her name was?"
Newt's voice was terribly hoarse, as though a thorny branch had lodged in his throat.
"Nagini."
Douglas repeated the name, his tone carrying an appropriate measure of puzzlement and curiosity.
"Why? Have you heard that name before, Newt?"
Tina sprang to her feet so abruptly that she knocked over the chair behind her.
She strode up to the cage, heedless even of the snake's sudden lunge-its head struck the bars hard with a dull thud.
Tina did not step back.
She braced both hands against the tabletop, her face almost pressed against the cage. Her eyes brimmed with tears as her trembling gaze searched the snake for something.
"Nagini..."
Tina's voice choked.
"It's her... Newt, look at her eyes... even though they've turned yellow, even though they're full of murder... that shape..."
Newt slowly approached.
His steps were heavy, each one seeming to carry him across a long and painful stretch of history.
He removed his monocle and, with those rough but warm hands, traced the snake's outline in the air through the cage.
Nagini seemed to sense something inside the cage.
It stopped hissing and no longer battered the cage.
It coiled its body and raised its head. A trace of bewilderment flickered in its cold,