Grandpa's Potion - Reliable as Ever!

"Grandpa, is this potion really... reliable?" David asked hesitantly, his eyes fixed on the black, suspicious-looking droplet that Newt was carefully handling.

"Absolutely!" Newt declared, his voice filled with confidence. "You can't doubt a magical creature expert like me!"

David, unsure whether to trust his grandfather's words or his instincts, watched as Newt, despite his age, skillfully guided the potion with steady hands toward Grace. Newt was a legend when it came to caring for magical creatures, but his eccentric methods often left David doubtful.

The potion was something Newt had recently concocted. It was supposed to help magical creatures recover their energy quickly, though its murky black appearance did little to inspire confidence. The table where Newt worked was a chaotic mess of herbs, bottles, and tools, adding to David's unease.

"Grandpa, are you sure it'll work? It... looks strange," David muttered.

Newt didn't respond. Focused entirely on Grace, he administered the potion with practiced ease. Within moments, the tiny fairy perked up, her energy restored. She darted back to her companions, who greeted her with joyful squeaks and laughter.

Newt beamed with pride. "See? Works like a charm! Fairies are small, so the effects are quick. For larger creatures, like an Occamy or a Niffler, it might take longer."

"But," Newt added, lifting a finger, "this potion is highly concentrated. If taken directly, it can cause magical creatures to become overly excited—hyperactive, even. To avoid that, you have to dilute it. Like just now, I mixed in a bit of honey."

Newt pointed to a jar of honey on the table, shaking it to emphasize his point. David nodded, finally convinced.

"And the recipe for this potion?" David asked curiously.

Newt smirked mischievously. "The recipe? That depends on my mood. Maybe I'll share it with you one day—if you don't get on my nerves." His grin widened. "So be a good grandson and help out when I ask, hmm?"

David groaned inwardly. Grandpa never misses a chance to exploit me!

As if reading his mind, Newt shot him a playful look before saying, "Now let's head back. Don't leave everyone waiting."

---

When they returned to the living room, Queenie rushed forward, her expression filled with worry. "What happened? Are the fairies hurt?"

"They're fine, Aunt Queenie," David assured her. "They just got a bit tired after the performance. Grandpa gave them some potion, and they're back to normal now."

David deliberately left out the part about the fairies transferring magic to him—something Dumbledore had asked to keep secret. While David didn't understand why, he knew it was best not to argue with the old professor.

"Good, good!" Queenie said, visibly relieved. "Did they agree to be my models?"

The fairies, now perched on David's shoulders, chirped excitedly and nodded. Jessica even did a little twirl, her enthusiasm clear.

Queenie's face lit up. "Wonderful!" She gently picked up one of the fairies, admiring her closely. The fairies buzzed around her shoulders, clearly as excited as she was.

---

The evening passed with laughter and chatter around the fireplace. Soon, the clock struck ten, signaling the end of the festivities. Queenie and Jacob prepared to leave, but not before Queenie leaned in to David with a sly smile.

"You dared to call my clothes ugly?" she teased, tweaking his ear gently. "If it weren't for these fairies, I'd have given you a piece of my mind!"

Before David could defend himself, she waved her wand, and she and Jacob disappeared, the fairies flying along after them.

David stood there, sulking. "I shouldn't have trusted you, Aunt Queenie!"

---

After Christmas, life returned to its usual pace. Newt, however, seemed unusually busy. Despite the heavy snow, he spent his days wandering the forest, returning home only for meals.

David grew suspicious. Tina didn't stop him, which was even stranger. Normally, she would insist Newt stay indoors during bad weather. Something was definitely going on.

One afternoon, while Newt rested on the sofa after lunch, David decided to confront him.

"Grandpa," he whispered, "what are you really looking for in the forest?"

"Bowtruckles," Newt replied without hesitation. His tone was so casual and convincing that David almost believed him.

But David wasn't so easily fooled. "Then let me come with you!"

Newt shook his head. "No can do, kid. It's too cold, and your grandma would have my head if you got sick."

"Grandma wouldn't know if you didn't tell her!" David argued.

Newt raised an eyebrow, then flexed his arm, showing off his biceps. "Do you even have these? Hmm?"

David glanced at his own scrawny arms and sighed. He couldn't win a physical argument with Newt, who, despite his age, was still as strong as ever from years of handling magical creatures.

If persuasion wouldn't work, David had another plan. "Grandma!" he yelled toward the kitchen. "Grandpa said you're scary!"

Tina appeared instantly, wand in hand. "What did you say, Newt Scamander?"

Newt didn't miss a beat. "I said David wants to go into the forest with me, but I told him no."

Tina turned to David, her expression stern. "Absolutely not! Do you remember what happened three years ago? You had a fever for three days after coming back from the forest! No means no!"

David sighed, offering reassurances and apologies until Tina finally returned to the kitchen. When he turned back, Newt was laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

"Sorry, David," Newt said, wiping away tears of laughter. "I'm heading out now."

As he grabbed his coat and opened the door, Newt glanced back with a mischievous grin. "Nice try, kid!" Then, with a triumphant chuckle, he stepped out into the snow.

David glared at the door. "You're impossible, Grandpa!"