Credence Reader Inserts

Just Dancing

[male reader and modern AU again]

"FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT!"

You were a dancer. You had moved to New York City for college after being accepted into Julliard and getting involved in their prestigious dance program. To be in their studios, among all the other dancers from across the country, practicing all different dance styles from around the world, was a dream you'd worked your whole life to bring into reality.

It had been a hard road for you to follow with only the bare minimum support from your family and having to work your way into the No-Maj school system. Your parents had been disappointed that you were firmly against pursuing a magical career, but seeing your passion for dance and your incredible talent had moved them to allow you to apply to Julliard. When you got in, you buzzed away to New York, putting your family's negativity behind you.

You had been lonely for the first couple months before encountering a certain wizard who would soon change your life- a Mr. Newt Scamander, magizoologist, and keeper of the Niffler that had tried to pilfer your favorite gold cuff links from your dorm room one Saturday afternoon. You and Newt became quick friends after that, and he often came to watch you rehearse on your own in a studio when you didn't have classes.

Your training was going phenomenally, and with the encouragement of Newt, you were in your prime by the end of the fall semester. You had begun to branch out from the classical ballet and tap classes you normally pursued, and were enjoying the thrill of exploring hip-hop and contemporary dance. Something about the music and style of modern dance had always intimidated you, despite being the dance genre considered 'most sociably acceptable' for guys. But with your best friend in the studio cheering you on and a lot of practice, you were getting the hang of breakdance and hip-hop.

One chilly afternoon, a couple weeks before winter break, you were practicing on your own in a studio. You started off with basic ballet exercises, then finally switched to some rap and club music to work on some moves you were trying to perfect.

The ding! of a text notification interrupted the music you had been playing on your phone, and you went to check the text, obviously from Newt.

'Hey, Y/N. I'm on my way to the campus right now. Do you mind if I bring a friend today? We just got coffee, wanted them to tag along.'

You frowned, curious at Newt's wording. He called the person 'a friend,' which meant this was someone you'd never met before. If it was Tina or Queenie with him, he would just say it was Tina or Queenie, but instead he chose a vague term for the person with him.

Eh. Whatever. 'Yeah sure. That's cool. See you in a bit. Studio 5 btw.'

You started a new song and got back to practicing. In your head, you imagined a million reasons why Newt might be vague on you. Maybe this was someone he's dating, but he's too shy to let anyone know right now? Or maybe it's someone he wants YOU to date? Maybe it's-

The doors behind you opened suddenly, and you put both feet on the ground and turned to see Newt walk in with his.... friend. Wow, his friend.

The boy that was walking in behind Newt, the same height as him but seeming smaller due to the lad's hunched shoulders and shy, ducking head was, to put into your own words, magnificent. He was dressed in a large black peacoat, black slacks, shoes you recognized as Newt's old boots, and a lavender scarf very obviously knitted by Queenie. His hair was the most ridiculous, crooked bowl cut you had ever seen, but something about that perfect jawline made the haircut somehow excusable. His eyes, you could see, though they only glanced up at you for a second, were the most incredible shade of brown, darker than mahogany, and hiding something you wanted badly to discover.