#leta scamander

“Let me help you,” Leta said, laughing. She knelt, holding her hands out, cupped.

A breeze ruffled Newt’s hair as he looked down at her, bemused. “I’m sure if you just give me another moment,” he started.

“It’s not about making friends with the horse,” Leta huffed. “It takes everyone a little time to figure out how to mount from the ground.” Newt put his foot in her hand, looking dubious, but Leta managed to boost him onto the horse’s wide, dapple-grey back. Newt settled with his legs astride, brushing careful fingers over the ridge of one of the horse’s wings.

“I’ll bet flying is different on these,” he said, glancing down at Leta.

“Oh. So much better than broom travel.” Leta grinned. She adjusted the way his foot lay in the stirrup, then stepped back. The horse flicked a bored ear at them. “Brooms don’t respond the way horses do. Go on. He’s used to carrying beginners.”

Leta stood well back as Newt nudged the horse’s sides. The great wings, dark as stormclouds, began to beat as the horse started off across the field. Air caught under his wings, lifting him into the air, and Leta felt a little vicarious thrill go through her at Newt’s whoop of joy.