Harry Potter's : Fantastic Beasts Guide

"Little guy, how did you do that?"

The witch leaned against a boulder, exhaling softly as she reached up and pulled back her hood. Silver-white hair, messy from the battle, spilled over her shoulders. She ruffled it absentmindedly, the strands falling neatly into place.

"Family secret," David replied casually, keeping his focus on their surroundings. He had no intention of correcting her about calling him 'little guy.' Right now, there were more important things to worry about.

"Is that so?" A faint smile played at the corners of the witch's lips. Her complexion was pale, and her features cold, but when she smiled, there was an undeniable charm to her.

David frowned as he caught sight of her unfastening the front of her clothes. "What are you doing?"

She looked up at him with amusement. "I was injured back there. If I don't treat it now, I might not have enough blood left to heal. Unless, of course, you'd like to help me?"

"You could have just said something earlier," David muttered, turning away quickly.

The witch laughed lightly. "Oh, don't be so shy. I just saw you fight back there—what's there to be embarrassed about? Besides, are you not worried that I might attack you while your back is turned? Maybe you should reconsider."

"If you think you can hurt me in your current state, you're welcome to try." David kept his eyes on the darkness beyond them, sensing no hostility from her. His abilities gave him confidence.

"Funny little guy," she murmured, tending to her wounds. The rustling of fabric was the only sound between them. After a moment, she announced, "Alright, you can turn around now."

David turned back to see her fully dressed, bloodied bandages scattered on the ground.

"Now," she said, stretching slightly. "Let's talk. Why did you rescue me? We were enemies just moments ago."

"Are you a vampire?" David asked directly.

The witch chuckled, revealing pointed fangs. "Didn't you see? No other wizard in my group turned into an adorable little bat. But 'vampire' isn't exactly polite. You should call us 'blood.'"

"Fine, fine," David waved a hand dismissively. "Do you know Newt Scamander?"

The witch's expression changed instantly. She sat up straighter, eyes narrowing. "You… know him?"

"He's my grandfather."

"What?!" The witch's demeanor shifted. She adjusted her clothing as if suddenly self-conscious, muttering under her breath, "This is unexpected."

David raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem?"

"No… no problem." The witch let out a sigh, glancing up at the night sky. "Forget everything I just said earlier, alright?"

David blinked. "You mean about—"

"Yes! Forget it!" she cut him off hastily. "If Tina ever finds out, she'll tear me apart."

David smirked. "Wow, my grandmother has that kind of reputation?"

The witch crossed her arms. "I'm not scared of her."

"Sure," David said, amused. "So, about my grandfather—where is he?"

The witch sighed. "They found me about a month ago. Told me about the werewolf problem and asked for our help. We tracked the werewolves for a while, but in Paris, your grandfather and the others went off on their own. I don't know where they are now."

David frowned. "What exactly did they say?"

"They warned us that werewolves were trying to infect more wizards, and we couldn't just let them grow in numbers unchecked. So, we've been hunting them down."

"And tonight? Was this an ambush?" David asked, remembering the chaos from earlier.

"Yes. We knew it was a trap, but we had no idea they could transform outside of a full moon," she admitted, a crease forming between her brows. "That shouldn't be possible."

"Could someone be helping them?"

"It's possible," she conceded, "but we've been tailing them for a while and haven't seen them contact anyone."

David crossed his arms. "If they can transform at will, that makes them much more dangerous."

"Exactly." The witch's expression darkened. "Before transformation, a werewolf is just a regular wizard—often even weaker due to the strain of monthly transformations. But after? They're faster, stronger, and their bite is lethal. If they can transform anytime…"

David let out a slow breath. "That would be catastrophic."

The two fell silent, the distant hoots of restless birds the only sound breaking the stillness of the night.

After a moment, David asked, "Why do you and the werewolves fight so viciously?"

The witch's expression grew cold. Her irises turned a deeper shade of red, but unlike a werewolf's, only the pupils changed color—the whites of her eyes remained as they were.

"They used to be our servants," she said bitterly. "But when we were at war with the wizards, they betrayed us. They stormed our strongholds, slaughtered our kind… including my grandmother."

David hesitated, realizing what she had just implied. "Wait… when was this betrayal?"

"Nearly a thousand years ago," she said offhandedly.

David stared at her. "You—"

"It's not polite to ask a lady her age," she interjected, smirking.

David chuckled, shaking his head. "Fair enough. So, what are you going to do now?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Are you staying here?" David clarified. "Or—"

"I'm coming with you, of course." She dusted herself off, as if it was the most obvious decision in the world.

David frowned. "Why?"

The witch pouted. "I need to feed. If I don't, I'll be too weak to defend myself. Unless, of course, you're offering?"

David groaned. "Fine, come along. But no biting."

The witch grinned mischievously. "Oh, you're no fun."

As David reached for his wand to locate Jason and Anna, he turned back to her. "By the way, you never told me your name."

She smirked. "Call me Lauren. And remember, little guy, it's 'sister Lauren' to you."

David sighed. "I already regret this."