One Nifry Scamander

1972

Nifry couldn't help the nightmares any more than she could help any other cases of her own brand of accidental magic—even those that weren't entirely without purpose.

She wasn't sure if the sights she saw behind her eyes were real; she didn't know if they were her imagination just actively trying to scare the absolute crap out of her, or if it was . . . somehow something tangible? Something that had already happened once upon a time, but not to her. To someone else entirely different, but through their eyes.

There was a window in her mind's eye open to a strange No-Maj realm, and while it could be misconstrued as something imaginary, Nifry had grown up with magic everywhere around her. The idea that something as strange as this wasn't magic felt intrinsically wrong.

She spent half her time in a suitcase with her father caring and spending most of her remembered life with creatures of such rapport and incredulity that to her, nothing was impossible.

To see such vivid visions with the detailed faces of people she had never seen before, and most likely, would never meet or meet again, as she had taken to understanding it. To see heart wrenching and intimate scenes that she felt belonged to another person right behind her eyelids when she was at her most unguarded, only to snap awake to act upon it and find there was nothing going on in the first place. That she had been dozing. Those are just a few of the things she saw.

Only, in these 'dreams' as she called them, she could hear things, almost scent the air around her as if everything she experienced was as visceral as real life. Some of these dreams felt like memories, but detached, they didn't belong to her. Others, on a different hand, gave her the gut feeling that they were possibilities, and might not have even happened. Yet.

Perhaps, though, her mother was right and she just had an inflated head for imagination. Her mother didn't think anything of it, but of course who would? The Goldstein's and the Scamander's didn't have any Seer blood, and it was unlikely that it was anything like that concerning Nifry.

As it were, Niffella Scamander—the only daughter of Newt and Tina Scamander—sat with her elbows on her knees overlooking the demiguise enclosure and wondered. She wondered on her oddities, and the strange sense that something big was going to happen, was already happening. Something life changing.

And in fact she would be correct, but not in any obvious way. To her, at least.

She wasn't surprised when she saw her father's shadow and next the curled mop of his thick graying sand colored hair, right before the ground crunched beneath his feet to alert her. She'd already been looking between the curtain of her hair, but she forced herself to raise her head to greet his soft blue green eyes with her own—the same ones they shared.

Smiling at his hesitant expression, and the almost hurried way he sat next to her causing a janky fall to his butt, he had but one moment of silence before clearing his throat. She wouldn't tell any who asked her, but she secretly found her father's eccentricities entertaining. Especially when her mother, who by comparison lived and breathed normalcy, was involved.

At the moment, thoughts of visions and dreams were not on the table. What was, however, was just another one of her parents odd fights that weren't really fights but certainly something. For her mother's part she hadn't once insisted that her school of choice was better than her father's. Instead she had spent Nifry's entire life quietly advertising Ilvermorny, while her father was a bit more open about his intentions of Hogwarts. Although he didn't seem to see it in that light.

"Did you decide on the school you want to attend?" he asked, and she cocked him a raised brow.

"I thought mom said it was my decision and that neither of you could influence that." Mom had said that, and then had gone on to make points on each of Nifry's choices, which, forgetting the rest, was plainly between Hogwarts and Ilvermorny. It was a tough decision to make for a girl who hadn't really ever made any major decisions for herself in as long as she could think.

Still, she agreed with her parents that it should be her decision in the end, seeing as it would be where she'd spend the majority of her formative years.

Newt's expression was wholly sheepish and his eyes widened with the effect of being caught red handed, causing her to laugh before playfully shoving at her father's leg. She wasn't sure if her dad could even make a sly expression, but she assumed the next grin he gave her was as close as it got.

"It is, but I thought I should just ask, you know, in preparation."

She shrugged her shoulders, her mood plummeting at that.

A part of her wanted to stay with her family and just learn everything there was to learn about fantastical creatures from her father and do as he had done. It wasn't even that she had to graduate from any school. Nifry had never even been to a real school before, let alone thought about what that would mean and had always been taught by her mother when they weren't working alongside the beasts they kept. If she were honest, she didn't really see the point of schooling if her dream job would be to continue doing what she had already been doing from birth.

You didn't need a degree to be a magizoologist, you needed heart.

But Tina had wanted more for Nifry, wanted her to build strong friendships and have fun adventures. The kind that her mom wanted for their child. For a girl like Nifry though, this wasn't exciting in the least. It just felt strange.

Really, as a person, Nifry didn't like change. Nor did she appreciate the sense of loss she would be feel from being away from the beasts she grew up with, saw more like family. She would miss them all very much—and that did include the Nifflers, her namesake, the cheeky bastards.

Some didn't live as long as humans did, or some lived so long and were on their last legs that they could drift at any moment, and where would she be when they passed? At school, unable to say her goodbyes. For her, that thought was heartbreaking.

"Can't I just learn all there is to learn from you?" Nifry couldn't hold that note of hope back from her small voice, and watched as her father, weathered in his greying age, dropped his own shoulders.

"If I thought it best I would, little niffler," he paused, thinking, "but there are things that I, nor your mother can teach you. Things that have to be experienced, not taught. Grown from. We can't give you that, not here."

Finding all she could do was sigh, she leaned into his side, and the two watched the animals go about their day around the shifting enclosures.

At the moment they had a herd of hippogriffs they were raising for some school in France she couldn't pronounce, and other assorted creatures both near extinction and needing protection. It was as it always was, doing the best they could to relocate or protect the animals that sometimes couldn't protect themselves. It was best to remember that for some this would be their always home, and for others, this would be only temporary.

Especially for the demiguise that chose that moment to appear.

Gimble was the perfect example of a poor creature that had been taken for the purpose of something she thought terrible. He'd been harvested to make invisibility cloaks, and had been rescued by a nice wizard who was like her father, but didn't have the necessary know hows on caring for a demiguise. Not everyone did, as they were rare and hard to catch in the first place, which had made him being here so noteworthy.

For her father, it had probably brought back memories he had with a demiguise he had named Dougal.

Still, he was rarely seen and it'd been weeks since they'd received him. Judging from the way he'd been when they found him, it would be weeks still until he was strong enough to be on his own.

Nifry felt an odd kinsmanship with the beast, something about their ability to see into the future, their eyes glowing a bright blue under the effects of prophecy reminded herself of . . . well, herself. It also made her think about the possibilities her own life had.

With that thought in mind, she took the matter at hand seriously for that moment; thought of her older brother who had gone to Ilvermorny in his youth, and of her father who truly believed in the greatness of his alma mater, despite his questionable as well as illustrious history with the institution. It wasn't just that, however, that made up her mind.

It was also the sense of some unknown purpose, the nearly tangible instinct in her heart telling her what she had already known.

"Dad, I want to go to Hogwarts."

It was said on a surprisingly certain breath, despite not realizing she was saying it all.

When it was in the air, at first her heart had stuttered in anxiety, and then she felt a fraction of the happiness her father expressed in his answering grin. A smile that was perhaps even brighter than a thunderbird.

"What all do we need?" Tina asked, and her nose ticked at the materials listed on the paper Nifry handed to her.

"We have all the copies we could ever want of that," Tina at first remarked, most likely noting her husband's entry to the syllabus, right before nodding her head in quiet speculation. She made little ticking marks as she looked it over, then, as no-nonsense as she could be, rested the paper on her hip and cocked a look Nifry's, and Newt's way.

"I'll get the books, we have the rest at home. So, how about you both head onto the wand shopping?"

"Roger," Newt and Nifry said together, and the two shared a secret grin before they waved and departed from her mom.

On the way to Ollivander's, Newt made idle conversation about his surety that Ollivander could provide the sort of wand someone in America wouldn't. It made her think of her aunt who had recommended a few wand makers who she thought would be fit better to provide Nifry with a top quality life long companion. Mom had agreed, but seeing as she was going to Hogwarts, Newt wanted her to have the full experience he had in growing up.

She missed Aunt Queenie, the woman was always so comforting to be around, even if she could peer inside your head any time she wanted and would often rather talk to the thoughts there at the surface than to any words you were actually saying. It didn't unnerve her like she supposed it should have. More it made everything far easier than putting something out into the open.

But enough about her aunt.

Nifry pressed closer to her dad when he opened the front door to Ollivander's, nodding politely to another family that was just stepping out.

It was a woman and a man with two boys, each with dark features and pale faces. The woman remained impassive and assertive as they pushed out first before Newt or Nifry could walk further in. The man simply pressed his hand against the taller boy's shoulder with a frown marring his otherwise handsome face. The youngest boy had a soft smile while holding onto the box in his hand while the eldest looked just more aloof than anything.

They waited for them to pass before entering, and headed for the front of the shop where Garrick Ollivander was doing what she thought was taking stock as he shuffled behind his desk.

Newt stepped forward, "Uh, hello, sir, Mr. Ollivander."

"Ah," Mr. Ollivander murmured, looking up to see the two of them walking forward. "Mr. Scamander? I've not seen you for a well long time."

Newt chuckled, his body easing as he waved Nifry forward. "I'd like to see if we can find a match for my daughter," he said, his voice proud.

Nifry blushed but had enough voice to say, "Hello, Mr. Ollivander, I'm Niffella Scamander. Pleased to meet you."

"Ah, another Scamander. Always a joy to work with you lot."

Mr. Ollivander turned away from them and flicked his own wand to the side and she watched as a few boxes popped out from along the long walls and drifted over. Once in hand, he lifted the top off and handed a sleek, ornate wand to Nifry, who took it and promptly shook her head before he could even tell her what it was.

She could feel the way her magic wrapped around it, but she didn't feel any sense of connection. If anything, she felt a bit uneasy with it in her hand, like she was on unfamiliar footing.

"Give it a flick, just to be sure," Ollivander instructed, and humouring the man, she lightly waved the wand around. When a few of the boxes dove forward and nearly hit her in the arm, she quickly set the wand on the desk and backed away in surprise.

He chuckled, rather than getting upset and smiled before handing her another. When it hit her palm, she wanted to shake her head again, but saw Ollivander nod his head her way. She gave it a good whirl, and when one of the overhead lamps exploded, she cringed once more.

Newt pressed his warm hand into her shoulder, nearly sending her jumping.

"It may take a while is all," he said, and she sent him a sheepish nod.

"What was that last one?" she asked Mr. Ollivander in curiosity as he came back with a few more boxes.

"That was rowan with a core of phoenix feather. The other one was alder with dragon heartstring. This next one is walnut with the same."

"Ah," she said, and took the wand handed to her. "How do you know which wand will be right for the customer?"

She flicked her wrist, and when nothing happened, dropped it on the desk. The wand probably didn't like her one bit.

"It's magic, I assure you," Mr. Ollivander said with soft laughter, and he winked for the added mystery. Nifry found herself smiling, and continued to wonder as they went through a few more wands.

"I have a question, Mr. Ollivander," Newt proposed.

"Yes, Mr. Scamander?"

"If I were to give you a something would you be able to fashion something out of that?"

Mr. Ollivander was quiet for a moment, considering who exactly he was talking to, and cocked his head. "It would depend. You may not think it, but there is an art to fashioning wands, and the core does matter. I've found there are some things that work best. So what sort of core are we talking?"

"Thunderbird tailfeather," Newt replied, and Nifry sent an alarmed look his way.

She wondered if this was Frank's feather, the bird her father used to talk about when he reminisced about some of his past charges. Sometimes creatures have a way of knowing your intents for friendship, and sometimes they may gift you something of theirs to make sure you know that. Apparently Frank had given him several of his feathers before his departure, and it had been cared for throughout the long years ever since.

She was surprised her father would even part with one of them, seeing how sentimental he could be.

Mr. Ollivander's eyebrows shot up. "I've never had the pleasure of working with thunderbird, though I'd love the experience. I imagine it works similarly to the phoenix's feather, I find they tend to be made into more aloof wands, pickier, so it may not work how you'd like, but I'm up for the challenge, if you are." He paused. "I've heard of Shikoba Wolfe's work, perhaps I'll phone him."

They all watched as Nifry flicked another wand and an entire wall at their side shot out rows of boxes.

Mr. Ollivander laughed in good humor. "It would seem this may be the best option for Miss Scamander as well."

She scratched the back of her head before those words sunk in. Then she felt a sudden burst of excitement at the prospect of a wand made just for her.

Made for me. Nifry felt far more privilege then than Mr. Ollivander would making it.

"Now," Mr. Ollivander started, waving his wand lightly in the air to see the return of order to the shop around them. "Let's talk wood."

Seeing as there were no extra customer's about, he waved them to the back where he presumably kept his workshop, and wasn't surprised at all when that was the case.

It was a darkly lit room until they entered, and then fires lit the lamps overhead. Like the front of the store there were more thin, rectangular boxes along the wall, where wands rested, probably so unmatched or too old to have any likelihood of being placed. Aside from that, there was also piles of assorted wood piled up to the ceiling, impressive with the height the room sat at.

"I have a wide variety of different woods, as you can see," the wandmaker said, noting the way her eyes widened at the amount of it. "I want you to feel around, what pops out to you, Miss Scamander? Draws an internal piece of yourself."

His eyes narrowed in on her, as if he had thoughts of his own on what it might be.

She stepped forward at his behest and paced for a while before having a sudden pull to something at the very back. It was almost forgotten in the way it was set up, gathering dust at the edges of the pile. She wondered what that meant as she pointed and looked at Mr. Ollivander.

"Silver lime," he murmured, stepping forward to bring it out. With a quiet smile he asked, "So which are you? A seer or a legilimens?"

Entirely unbidden, Nifry felt a sweeping of chills along her back and forearms. She was sure she looked alarmed as she stared at Mr. Ollivander, mute.

Newt came to the rescue, unbeknownst to himself. "Does one have to be either of those things to have a draw to the wood? And how exactly does that work?" Naturally, he was curious, and had asked more for the answer than to save his daughter from any sort of scrutiny.

"For those who study wandlore it's known that silver lime has a history of choosing those with the innate gift for the more mysterious magics, that's not to say it's a definitive." He ran his hand the length of the log. "We used to sell a lot of these wands, but the fad died out when people realized one had to actually possess the gifts themselves to see any results in their practice. As for the draw of the wood, it's more the wood echoing a message to the responder, a call of sorts. Some wizards and witches have a natural affinity for only one sort, while others feel more inclined to a general variety."

Mr. Ollivander eyed her, an odd expression she hadn't seen on his face before crossing his features. He regarded her quietly before nodding his head.

"It seems Miss Scamander, you have found a singular match." His lips tipped into a small smile. "It will be a privilege of mine to make it for you. Let's just hope the thunderbird tailfeather works well with this wood. It might make it a bit temperamental, but perhaps you'd like that excitement."

"Thank you very much," Nifry said, a bright grin alighting her features. Her stomach tightened, and she felt her heart pick up with her giddiness. "And as long as the excitement doesn't mean exploding light bulbs, then that's okay."

"Hopefully no exploding anything," Newt quipped, and she looked at her father with a slight frown, thinking that hypocritical. He'd told her once upon a time that at one point in his life there had been a lot of action—action that included exploding things. He'd seemed to be a bit boastful of it too. And why wouldn't he be?

Her father was a hero in every sense of the word. He had fought in a war, and he'd worked with dragons! And so many other creatures that involved exploding.

Nifry only realized it had been an attempt at a joke when Mr. Ollivander laughed, seeming to read from it what had flown over her head. Or he knew how awkward her father could be. They'd seemed a bit familiar, but something told her that Mr. Ollivander remembered every single person that stepped through his door.

The rest of their visit went much the same, and she wasn't at all surprised when her father pulled the aforementioned feather out of nowhere and handed it to the wandmaker. School wouldn't start for another few weeks yet, but Mr. Ollivander had still reassured them that she'd have it in hand before she had to go off, and if not he'd supply a temporary one.

She wasn't sure how well a temp would work with her record of sending boxes flying, so she hoped it was done in time. And that it was a match.

"That had taken a while," her mom said when they met up for ice cream that afternoon, and she'd looked at them curiously. "So let's see it."

"We're having one being made with Frank's feather," Nifry replied as she ate her treat.

Tina turned an inquiring stare Newt's way, and he mumbled a bit before saying, "I'd just feel a bit better with a piece of him with her."

At his tender response her mother's face softened, and she palmed her father's hand, who flipped it to entwine his fingers with hers. It was a silent reminder of their love that had Nifry smiling even more.

Maybe for some children it was a bit gross to see their parents interacting so sweetly, but Nifry had grown up with the subtle ways they expressed themselves. Neither of them were very much for words, and chose more to speak through their touch, with the way they looked at one another. So rather than being sickened by that, Nifry felt a sense of security.

It was as sweet as the ice cream she was slurping.

Mr. Ollivander had made good on his word, and thus when they came back a few weeks later—the day right before she'd have to get on the Hogwarts Express—he was waiting at the front desk with a warm smile on his face. An almost giddy feeling echoed from him to her, and it tripled the rate of her heart beat.

She waved, and this time her mother came forward first with her hand at the ready to shake Mr. Ollivander's.

"Hello, the name is Tina Scamander," she prefaced. "Thank you so much for working with us."

"It was my pleasure, Mrs. Scamander," Mr. Ollivander replied, shaking her hand and then slid the box on the desk Nifry's way as she approached.

Nifry sent a nervous look her parents way, who only seemed to smile at her hesitancy. Newt patted her on the shoulder, and stepped up with her, his support silent but there.

She couldn't lie to herself. It was a bit intimidating looking at the rectangular casing of her future friend.

She knew not everyone thought that wands had a sort of life to them, but they were magical and had aspects granted from the animal's cores that resided inside—and if it was anything Nifry knew, it was about magical creatures and their natural aspects. She also knew her parents wands very well, as she'd handled them a few times. They'd always had a different feeling than the other, like separate people. So, of course she had to wonder if her wand—the wand made for her—would accept who she was. Allow her to be their partner, their friend.

To say she was a bit nervous was an understatement as she unboxed it right there in the shop. She held her breath, and then eyed the design with wide, impressed eyes.

The first thing she noticed was that it was very straight. The wood itself was a sleek and polished light silver that faded outwards to a soft white. Not anything she'd imagine silver lime would look like, but beautiful nonetheless. It reminded her of snow, but then she noticed the gold gilding that looked like dripped vines all along the body until it met the hilt.

For some reason, it made her think of lightning strikes the way the gold was welded in, and she realized then the true echo of what the design was for. It's likeness belonged to the thunderbird itself. White and gold.

She lost breath until her palm touched the smooth handle of her wand and the feeling that then met her became akin to seeing someone you thought you'd never have the chance to meet. It hit her first in her chest, and wormed its way throughout her entire body like sugar melting in hot tea.

Nifry gave a sigh of relief, and almost could tell the precise moment her wand accepted her back. It wasn't allegiance, though, more it was a sort of understanding. That they were now partners until otherwise stated. She was surprised when a spritz of electricity jumped from the tip of her wand and popped outwards in an almost uncanny response.

"Thank you so, so much," she found herself whispering in awe, and looked up with a shaky grin. Then, unable to help the excitement bubbling forth, she cried out, "Mr. Ollivander you're a genius!"

He laughed, and winked before replying, "It was simply magic, my dear, and certainly my pleasure. I hope to be hearing all the sorts of mischief you get up in your time at school."

It was Newt who ruffled her curled mop of hair as her mom smiled brightly, her eyes pinching into a serene motherly expression.

When they stepped out of the shop, Nifry couldn't even stand to put the wand away, even under her sleeve. She just kept holding it, feeling a settling in her gut the longer it was in her hand.

"Your name is now Frank Jr. Scamander," she told her wand aloud. Newt laughed at that, a pleased as punch look finding its way to his face as they walked the streets of Diagon Alley.

A/N: Thank you for reading! c: Please R&R if you liked it, and follow and favorite it if this is your cup of tea!