For Dani - I'm sorry this is so late.

Dear Newt,

I hope this letter finds you safe and sound back in England. I thought you might like to know what has happened in your absence. Grindelwald is safely under lock and key, and MACUSA is currently scouring the area for the real Percival Graves. In other news, Queenie is determined to make Jacob remember her, even if it means creating new memories. Don't tell anyone, but I managed to track him down for her – you'll be pleased to know that the Occamy eggs were enough for him to open his business. The cinnamon owls are particularly good.

Always yours,

Tina

Dear Newt,

I hope that you're safe and sound at home, working on your manuscript, and not off chasing more magical creatures. If there's one thing you opened my eyes to during your visit, it's that the wizarding world needs to learn about your fantastic beasts, and that really, they aren't beasts at all, but wonderful beings.

I'm writing to keep you informed of the events that have happened in the months that you have been gone. Queenie visits Jacob nearly daily, though he still does not know she's a witch. She told him that she worked nearby, and I guess he hasn't asked for many details. I worry for her – she gives her heart too freely. As for Graves, MACUSA discovered a hidden area of the New York subway that had been sealed off by magic. Luckily, he had been dosed with a Draught of the Sleeping Death, and hadn't needed food to sustain him during the search period. He's being revived as we speak, and I will keep you informed of any development.

How is Pickett? Has he made friends with his brothers and sisters yet?

Your good friend,

Tina

Dear Newt,

It has been a year to the day since we said goodbye at the quay. I watched the boats as they came and went, but there was no sign of you. I heard that your book has been published, that the Beast Division at the Ministry was thrilled with your findings. I wished to buy a copy myself, but my treacherous heart still holds out hope.

Jacob drops by once a week for coffee, now. I think Queenie is trying to be as Muggle and proper about the relationship as she can this time around. We spend our Sunday mornings hiding all traces of magic in order to accommodate him. Of course, he has sweet talked Mrs Espesito into letting him stay for the afternoon, largely helped by her love of raspberry donuts.

Graves is slowly recovering from his traumatic experience. He's a tough wizard, so I think he'll pull through. I've been charged with watching him in the field, and he's given us invaluable information on Grindelwald's duelling capabilities. I'm starting to think that Grindelwald meant to be captured. I wish you were here to tell me your thoughts.

Why have you not written back?

Have you forgotten me?

Tina

Newt clutched the parcel of letters tightly in his hand, refusing to give them up to the ocean wind. He braced the other against the railing to keep his balance, enjoying the movement of the waves as the rest of the passengers started to pack up their things to go inside. He didn't mind. He had always preferred solitude to the company of others.

That is to say, the company of other humans.

Glancing around to check that the area around him was clear, Newt reached into his pocket and brought out Pickett, holding the Bowtruckle in place on his forearm until his small friend was able to wrap his branches around the thick material of his coat.

Pickett stretched, taking a moment to admire the view. His health had been too poor for him to risk exposure during their last trip, but this time he was able to enjoy it to the fullest. Newt imagined that the vast expanse of rolling waves reflecting white sunlight and blue sky was quite a shock to the woodland creature.

'It's nice, isn't it?' Newt said softly. 'I forget, sometimes. Perhaps the next great adventure should be underwater, but then again, you wouldn't like that, would you?'

Pickett blew a raspberry in response, turning his back on the ocean. He had never liked the water.

'That's what I thought,' Newt smiled, a brief quirk the lips that was replaced with a frown as he caught sight of the writing on the envelopes in his hand. 'What do I do, Pickett?'

Pickett cocked his head to the side, his leaves rustling atop his head. Newt sighed, and brandished the pack of letters in his hand, before stowing them safely away in his pocket.

'I wanted to write, but I didn't know what to say,' he explained, looking back to the waves lapping against the boat. 'And then it was too late to say anything at all.'

Pickett chirped, standing up straight with his chest puffed out, and pointed to himself with a one long finger.

'You want me to practice on you?' Newt let out a nervous laugh, looking around once more, though there was still no one in sight. 'I don't know...'

Pickett walked up Newt's arm to flick his ear.

'Ouch!'

Pickett licked his fingers, smoothing the leaves down his face.

'Is that supposed to be a rendition of her hair?' Newt asked, raising an eyebrow. When he received no response, he sighed. 'I suppose it couldn't hurt.'

He cleared his throat, looking back towards the ocean. If he looked carefully, he could see a blurry shape on the horizon - the Atlantic shoreline… and New York.

'Tina,' he began, searching for the appropriate words. 'I'm sorry I haven't written to you. I've been busy-'

A sharp sting on his arm had him yelping in pain.

'You're right; that will only upset her. I'm sorry I haven't written to you. The truth is that I didn't know what to write, what I could write. I received the first of your letters three months after you sent them, and after that… Well, it doesn't really matter anymore, does it? I came… I came, because I promised you that I would hand deliver this book. By the time I arrive, it will nearly be a year to the day since I saw you.'

Newt fell silent at the thought. A year to the day. What if Tina had forgotten? What if she had moved? He had half a mind to Confund the captain into turning around and heading back to Britain.

'What if she doesn't want to see me again, Pickett?' he voiced his real worry, but the Bowtruckle merely stared at him. 'Oh all right, no point in worrying. It only makes you suffer twice, as I always say. Very well.

'Tina… In the year that we've been apart, I've thought about you. More often than I'd care to admit, even though I'm doing so now.' He stopped, abruptly. 'No, that's all wrong.'

He took a deep breath and started again, staring into the Bowtruckle's eyes.

'Tina… In all of my travels, I have never met a witch or wizard that I respect half as much as I do you. You're courageous, but also so kind. You didn't need to give me a chance, in fact…'

Newt stopped again, his mouth quirking downwards as he looked towards the grey shore on the horizon. Soon, the sun would set and it would be gone. Something soft brushed his cheek and he turned to see that Pickett was back on his shoulder, his expression as sad as it was whenever Newt returned him to his tree.

'She's too good for me, Pickett,' Newt admitted, his voice wavering as he spoke. 'She… she needs someone who's as bold and brave as her, not afraid to speak out. I'm too afraid to even write her one damn letter. I can't tell her I love her, Pickett. She belongs out there, in the wilderness of the real world, while I hole myself up in the suitcase with you.'

Another faint brush of a twig against his cheek was all the empathy Pickett needed to show before Newt felt tears pricking at his eyes.

'It's better this way, Pickett,' he whispered, more determinedly this time. 'She hasn't realised it yet, but there isn't a single thing I wouldn't do for her. If that means containing my feelings so that she can find someone better, then that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.'

Hogwarts assignment #9 - Duelling Lessons: Write about someone looking out for someone else.

Love in Motion: Tina/Newt

Bosnia & Herzegovina - Creature: Bowtruckle

Elsa - Write about someone who pushes away those they love

Salamader: Newt Scamander