The Marauders: Year Three | #Wattys2016

Sketches of a Siramarg

"It's like an orange and brown peacock," Peter murmured as the other kids in the class settled down and started drawing the finer details of the bird in their sketchbooks.

Remus was already halfway through making a most splendid bird with his charcoal pencils on his pad. James was struggling with making a stick figure form of the bird. "It looks more like a constellation," said Sirius. "You're a regular Van Gogh, huh?"

"Shut up," James muttered, "Let's see you draw it."

Sirius laughed but he didn't even try to draw it.

It was as they were doodling in their books that they heard a nervous little voice. "Um, uh, uh, yes... Uh... hello?"

Sirius turned 'round and he violently kicked James to get his attention. James turned, too. Behind them stood a lanky man with a square jaw and thick black framed glasses. He wore a long tweed jacket with a dark brown vest and a little red bowtie at the throat. His narrow mouth trembled a bit and his large front teeth rested on his lower lip. He clutched a briefcase in his hands that seemed to weigh a great deal, though it was quite small.

"Can't be -- can it?" James whispered, awestruck.

Hagrid's head had popped out of the bushes to stare over.

"Newt Scamander!" cried out Kettleburn, a most joyous expression on his face. Remus looked up at this declaration - among the last of the students on the ground before the Siramarg to turn to see the new arrival.

"Bloody hell it is him," gasped James, eyes wide.

Hagrid had spent the last hour clipping a bush into the shape of a horse and he now accidentally cut the head right off in his surprise as his jaw dropped and he stared openly at the wizard.

"H - hello," Newt stammered uncomfortably. He shifted his weight and pulled the case to his chest, hugging it as though it were a protective shield. His eyes fell on the bird and they lit up with excitement. "Oh what an excellent Siramarg!" he said, and suddenly he came to life, rushing between the students to the bird, pausing to lower the suitcase to the ground. He looked at a Hufflepuff girl near where he'd set it and pointed at her, "Don't touch that," he commanded, even though she hadn't even begun to move toward it.

The girl looked around at her friends, confused and perplexed.

Newt hurried to look at the Siramarg. "Oh what lovely feathers! Will you look at that pattern? Oh my. Yes... oh goodness." He circled the bird, looking at her plume. "What a lovely - oh... I need to -- yes, watch out, watch out." He hurried to step through a cluster of Ravenclaws and grabbed his case once more, tipping it to the side, opened the latches and cracked the case but an inch - only just enough to slip his hand in. Several students leaned forward to see what was in the case, but Newt didn't open it enough to allow much of a peek. However, a clawed hand snuck out as he withdrew a notebook and quill. He used the notebook to smack the hand back into the case. "No. No. You stay," he said in the same commanding voice he'd used at the Hufflepuff girl.

"He's very odd, isn't he?" Lily whispered to Remus.

Remus nodded.

Kettleburn was grinning ear-to-ear, evidently not realizing how bloody odd Newt Scamander's actions had been. "Class, this is Newt Scamander, the renowned magizoologist."

One person clapped. It was James. Several turned to look at him with raised eyebrows and his enthusiasm petered out.

Newt Scamander waved his quill over his shoulder, distracted by the bird, and hunkered down to sketch out the bird. "Is this Bahram's bird?" he asked.