Art of Magic

Hello there, my name's Arthur Davenport, but you lot can call me Art. Care of Magical Creatures professor and I'm lovin' every minute of it. I'm just as much your friend as I am your professor so if ever your young teenage selves need a place to decompress, my doors are always open.
Shoot an owl my way, I love to talk.

She has his eyes. 

That’s all Art can think about because those eyes haunt him to this day. Those cerulean blue eyes that he watched turn dark in his arms as the thump thump under his bloody palm slowed down to a silence. 

“Vic doesn’t want me bringing her to see you, but I think Scorp would have wanted it. You are her godfather after all” Al’s voice speaks from in front of him. Art adjusts the child in his arms and smiles fondly down at her. “Hi” he coos softly “I’m Art. You can call me uncle Art if you want. or just Art. Or old man like your old man did” Art swallows as those big blue eyes move around his face, observing his every move. She doesn’t know him, know what he’s done and know the weight he carries on his shoulders. She doesn’t judge him. She is brand new, she is pure and there is a glow in her eyes that there never was in his.

“Would you like to watch her while I go to work today?” Art looks up at Albus with a genuine smile and nods. “I’d like that very much.”