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It was good to see Newt again even despite the occasion. They used to be inseparable until it was time for Theseus to go to Hogwarts, and two years before Newt was allowed to attend the school. Theseus remembers writing back home every day until Newt asked him not to overwork the owls who didn’t get enough rest. He wrote in a handwriting that was more effective than any cipher because only Theseus could read those crooked letters. Their father was almost non-existent, and Theseus couldn’t find any warmth in his heart towards that man even though he tried. Maybe the problem was that father has always been a stranger for both of them, present during holidays at home to sit at the head table. The only lesson Theseus learned from his father was how to tie a perfect Windsor knot and that was it. All other lessons he learned from their mother, a strong-willed woman whose affections lied with hippogriffs and not her children. She was a famous breeder of Hippogriffs, and Theseus sometimes dreamt of their mother’s unblinking eyes staring at him. Try not to blink. The one who blinks too much is not one to be trusted. Their parents weren’t of the loving and affectionate kind but not all parents are like that, are they? The Scamander brothers were always fed, dressed neatly and well-educated. Then it was Hogwarts’ turn to make them decent wizards, at least, according to their father. He died of heart-attack when Theseus was in his fifth year of education, and Newt said that he died of a broken heart. He didn’t understand the difference back then. Perhaps, they should have mourned more when their father died but, yet again, it wasn’t the end of the world — the death of a stranger their father was to them. Neither it was now when their mother joined the majority. The ceremony was small and respectful, just the way their mother said in her will it should be. Very few friends were invited — as she had very few friends, no business partners whatsoever. She had always said closer to the end that the worst taste of all was using one’s funeral as an opportunity to strike a great deal. Once the ceremony was over, the storm started. It was so heavy that most of the guests preferred to wrap their condolences up and leave after a mandatory hour and a half and a several whiskeys to pay their respects to the lady of the house. The brothers were left alone with their thoughts, and they spent the night sitting by the fire and from time to time trying to strike a conversation that would inevitably die down. Newt didn’t have his sleep-schedule right because of all the travelling he did. Theseus didn’t want to go to sleep because he was scared to see his mother in his dream — staring at him with her unblinking eyes. The storm died away at dawn. They walked outside on a whim and stood there for some time. The air was fresh and clear, still wet. The brothers walked to the stables just to check. The thing their mother would do every morning even though hippogriffs were independent and proud, and didn’t need anyone checking in on them. “Maybe she was a hippogriff in her heart,” Theseus thought. “And now she decided to take off on an adventure. Just the way they do.” “Isn’t that wonderful? They find each other again after the storm,” Newt smiled watching an older hippogriff covering a younger calf with its wing. “They do,” Theseus nodded and put his hand around his brother’s shoulders.