(A/N): This is the next part in my Newtina series, following "Holiday", but can be read on it's own.

Chapter One
The Magizoologist's Brother

Early March, 1928

Newt Scamander felt utterly naked without his magical case. When it wasn't with him he felt lighter, like the case was the only thing keeping his feet tethered to the earth and without it, at any moment, he would drift off into space. The worn out and cumbersome piece of luggage had become such a staple of his day to day life it was as if he'd left his flat without part of his arm, and he hated it.

The scruffy-haired wizard walked briskly through the wind and rain; the collar of his favorite blue coat turned against the less than pleasant elements as he strode along the busy London sidewalk. He carried himself oddly, with his left hand balled tightly at his side; shoulder slouched, as if he were hauling his case - a phantom presence. He'd purposely left the magical item tucked safely away in his flat a few blocks behind him. Newt had struggled with the idea of abandoning it while he was out, but he knew there was no scientific reason – for once – to have taken it with him. If things got out of hand during his current engagement, it would probably be best that he didn't have it with him.

Oddly enough, Newt wasn't on his way to the Ministry, or to the aid of some magical beast; he was out in the rain and cold for something far more taxing. He was out on a social call.

He'd been in London less than 48 hours after spending all of January and February in Hungary working with wizards at a dragon sanctuary started after the war. They had summoned Newt there urgently on Christmas, needing his help to care for an orphaned nest of Hungarian Horntail eggs after poachers killed their mother. It had been a relatively easy task – a quick trip – however the first clutch of eggs they'd asked him to care for months prior started to hatch three days before his return. The unforeseen and eager hatchlings had kept the Magizoologist from commandeering the Ministry's Floo Network in order to could ring in the New Year with his American friends, as he'd planned to do. He'd been in Eastern Europe ever since of his own accord, to observe the wizards working with the newborn dragons.

Newt had been captivated by how successfully the wizards and the hatchlings took to each other; he considered writing a companion piece with his next book entirely about dragons and their riders. Admittedly, he originally doubted their ability to get the baby dragons to imprint with their future riders, but he'd never been more pleased to be wrong. The Horntail hatchlings shared an almost protective kinship with the wizards that would one day ride them, and Newt found the whole thing absolutely fascinating.

Eventually Newt's unique canter led him to Charing Cross Road, a rather populated Muggle district. The rain hadn't slacked off yet, in fact he was sure the rain had started to fall more feverously the second he turned the corner. Rain was never an issue for the wizard – that was as long as he wasn't out in it, or if it directly prevented the studying of magical creatures. All the Muggles trudging past him seemed to have gotten the same memo about the weather. Most of the people on the streets walked huddled under large umbrellas, going about their usual business, unaffected by the downpour. He envied their dry hair, as his own hung annoyingly, dripping in his face. Had it not been for the waterproofing charm on his blue coat, he knew he would've been even more miserable.

With his open hand he wiped the darkened, auburn locks clinging to his freckled skin away from his eyes and readjusted his collar. Newt's destination was only a few more paces ahead; he could just make out the weathered storefront with the rusty cauldron hanging outside through the foggy rain.

The Leaky Cauldron was no glimmering jewel. It was dark and shady, perfumed with stale smoke from the various – somewhat questionable – herbs wizards puffed on in their pipes. The decor was reminiscent of the 1600s and did little to make the place seem cheery. The pubs aesthetic however, as Newt had learned long ago, was not telling of the witches and wizards who ran the seemingly decrepit pub and inn. They were kind and gracious hosts to all who entered their establishment, serving some of the best food and drinks the wizarding world of London had to offer.

Newt quickly removed his wand from one of his many pockets as he stepped inside the dismal interior. He silently cast a charm to dry his sopping clothes and hair; causing a warm burst of air to burst from the tip of his wand with a quiet whoosh, leaving him feeling much more comfortable.

No one paid him any attention as he lingered awkwardly by the door, scanning the faces in the dim lighting. There weren't many patrons that evening, though Newt figured it was still too early in the day to produce a large crowd. The lack of customers made it easier to find who he was looking for. His keen eyes searched the faces of the few wizards sitting randomly about, hunting for the man he'd trudged through the unfriendly weather to meet. It wasn't until his eyes brought him to the farthest corner of the establishment that he found the titian haired figure he was looking for. The man sat with his back facing the rest of the people in the pub, and he, too, wore his coat collar turned upward – though Newt knew it had nothing to do with the weather.

With a huff, the Magizoologist strode deeper into the tavern before finally placing himself in the chair opposite the seemingly mysterious man.

"I was beginning to think you were going to blow me off!" Theseus Scamander chided in a joking tone. Newt's older brother grinned at him, flashing his perfect white teeth and charismatic twinkle in his grey eyes.

"Can't say I didn't think about it." Newt attempted to match his brothers jesting tone, but fell short. He situated himself on the uncomfortable wooden chair, brushing away the shaggy hair in his eyes.

Despite the poor delivery, Theseus' broad shoulders still bounced with a chuckle at his brother's retort. "It's nice to see you again, little brother," he smiled sincerely.

"Yes," Newt replied. "Very good to see you again as well." He mirrored his brother's grin as best he could, hoping Theseus knew he really was glad to see him after so many years apart.

Newt wasn't usually one to make small talk, but meeting his older brother for drinks after extended holidays was something the two of them had done for years. They would meet almost always at the Leaky Cauldron to get drinks and catch up. Theseus was one of the few people Newt was at ease enough with to hold a conversation, no matter how mundane he found it. They would discuss work mostly. His brother would tell him all about his recent Auror stories, while Newt would listen respectfully - even if he had little interest. In return he'd speak at length about creatures, using scientific terms Newt wasn't even sure Theseus understood, but he listened attentively nonetheless, and would even ask how his creatures were doing.

"You're looking well." Theseus reached out and gave Newt's shoulder a squeeze. "Three years in the field bulked you up a wee bit, huh?"

In truth he had built up some of muscle; taking care of beasts was a rather physical undertaking. All the lifting and climbing and running had put some meat on his bones, and yet Newt still felt as though he paled in comparison next to Theseus. His older brother had always been the sturdier build of the two, tall with wide shoulders and a handsome face. The dark stubble on his cheeks hid faint freckles and contoured his chiseled jaw. Yes, his brother was easily the better Scamander.

"Err, seems that way." Newt paused, agreeing with him. "I had to expand a lot of my clothes to fit properly."

Theseus laughed. "It suits you."

Newt wasn't sure it suited him in the way he knew his brother was meaning, but he wasn't going to complain. His job was laborious, so having the strength certainly helped.

Just as he was about to say something regarding the matter of his freshly acquired strength, the Magizoologist's attention was stolen as a group of witches loudly shuffled in and out of the rain. They were much younger than most of the other people in the bar; fresh out of Hogwarts if Newt had to guess. Theseus' eyes followed his brothers and he smirked slightly.

"They're ogling you," he chuckled in a low whisper as he adjusted his popped collar.

Newt's green eyes darted back to this brother as a hard line creased his brow. "Why would they be ogling me?"

The Magizoologist was no stranger to witnessing such stares when he was with Theseus – the war hero. His older brother's popularity always forced them to the darkest, most unsought after part of any wizarding establishment - just so they would be left alone. But Theseus was right. It wasn't himself the young witches were absorbed in, it was Newt. They watched him with wide, almost hungry eyes that made him somewhat tense.

"Fans," Theseus expressed, taking a swig of whiskey while eyeing his brother knowingly.

"Fans…?" Newt repeated the word in a low whisper, his ginger brows still tightly pulled together.

Theseus looked somewhat amused.

"It might have something to do with a certain book you wrote," he hinted.

Newt's face soured and his stomach churned. "Surely not."

He was just an author – a scientist – who wrote a single book about magical creatures. There was no way such a thing would draw the same kind of attention one got from being a war hero. Although, from the look of things and the smile on his brother's face, Newt could tell he was wrong.

The Magizoologist swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and swept his eyes over to where the group of witches were - not even subtly giggling.

"You've been gone, Newt," Theseus shrugged, honestly. "Practically since the damn book got published." He narrowed his eyes at Newt. "You have no idea do you?"

"About what?"

"About how popular your book is. There's this huge photo of you in Flourish and Blotts—they can barely keep your book on the shelves." He laughed. "You're quite the celebrity."

Newt's jaw clenched as he attempted to process everything his brother was telling him. He did know his book was popular, but he hadn't thought it would be that popular.

"Why else did you think you were commissioned so quickly for another book?" Theseus looked to be the only one of them to find amusement by his little brother's rise to fame.

Newt gnawed on his bottom lip and moved his focus to the wood grain of the table. Never would he have thought to find himself walking in Theseus' shoes. His brother was so much more suited for fame; he was charismatic and likeable. Newt, on the other hand, thrived on solitude and tried very hard to avoid unnecessary conversation. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to deal with strangers approaching him the way Theseus could.

The Magizoologist peered back at the table of witches from under the fluff of his hair. They were still gawking and whispering, and his gut twisted at the thought of them making a move to say something to him. What would I even say? He thought, looking back at the table between him and his brother.

"You know," Theseus started, suddenly, finishing his drink. "I know this great Muggle pub down the street I've been meaning to show you."

Newt immediately met his brother's eyes with a thankful expression. His brother always had been protective of him, and this time he was truly grateful he was. The Muggles were blissfully ignorant of both their famous status in the wizarding world and would leave them alone.

"My friends and I started coming here so we could enjoy ourselves without someone buggering me."

The pub his brother lead him to was only a block and a half away from the Leaky Cauldron, and was overflowing with loud, intoxicated Muggles. Newt felt much more relaxed not having people watching him, even if the tavern was filled to capacity. He glanced around the more lively, but plain interior and smiled.

"Thank Merlin for that," Newt huffed heavily with relief, and a crooked smirk.

The brothers found a spot at the bar, away from most of the other patrons and sat down on the cushioned stools. Theseus nodded in agreement with his brother before turning to the barkeep and ordering two whiskeys. The balding Muggle brandished a thumb, and expertly poured the two amber colored beverages.

"To your book." Theseus raised his glass in a toast.

Newt seized his own and lifted the crystal drinkware to meet the other. "To my book," he nodded.

Together they threw back the drinks; the alcohol burned the back of Newt's throat as he swallowed. He laughed slightly from the sound he made as he drank; it had been a while since he'd last had something stronger than a Butterbeer. Theseus grinned impishly at his younger brother and quickly called for another round.

"For a while there was a rumor going around the Ministry that you got sacked." Theseus took another drink as he spoke.

"That would explain the looks I was given this morning," Newt shrugged with a sideways grin.

He wasn't surprised. He'd been away so much – so often – the past three years, it must have seemed the only reasonable explanation for his extended absences. The smile on his face lessened somewhat thinking back to some of his colleagues' expressions.

"They also seemed a bit…" Newt wasn't sure what word he was looking for. He'd never truly felt in his element at the Ministry, but there were a few people in the Beast Division who'd always made him feel somewhat welcome. That was until he'd went in that morning to his office.

"…standoffish."

Theseus shrugged "They're jealous most likely. They sit at their desks all day, dealing with paperwork on beasts while you got picked to go on these adventures, and now you're famous!"

Newt scowled. "Yes, well perhaps I should tell them the fame was not something I signed up for." He irritably took a large gulp of his drink, cursing his newly discovered fame.

There was silent a moment – apart from the usual pub clamor – making Newt feel inclined to make an effort at continuing the conversation. "Are there any other rumors floating around I should know about?" While he didn't much care for the usual gossip, he was trying valiantly to make the most of the outing with his brother. Theseus was busy – probably busier than Newt – being head Auror, and he didn't want to waste his older brother's time by just sitting there wordlessly.

A smirk spread across Theseus' face. "Well, I do recall reading something about a problem with magical beasts in New York City. A problem that led to the capture of one Gellert Grindelwald."

Newt cleared his throat and pursed his lips as his brother continued. "The papers never listed a name, only that it had been a British wizard in a blue coat." Theseus eyed the overcoat dangling from the back of his brother's barstool, pointedly.

"One or two of my creatures may have, um, escaped from my case," he admitted, nervously tapping his fingers on the bar. "And that may have led to the discovery and arrest of him, yes."

Newt was tired of talking about himself; he'd always found it strenuous to do, while Theseus could manage it so effortlessly. Usually their meetup was his brother talking about his work, which he'd always been perfectly fine with. On most occasions, however, Newt hadn't been gone for three years - which he figured was the reasoning behind his older brother's somewhat uncharacteristic behavior.

He shifted in his chair, eyes locked with his half-empty glass of whiskey.

"Anything new with you, Theseus?" Newt asked, desperately trying to derail the conversation away from himself.

A peculiar smile lit up amongst the dark, red scruff on his face. "Mother didn't tell you?"

Newt cocked a brow, his interest suddenly spiked. "I just got back yesterday, I haven't spoken to her since December— what would she have told me?"

Theseus jokingly rolled his eyes and finished another drink before he spoke. "I'm getting married!"

It took Newt a moment to register what his brother had told him, before a smiled parted his lips. That wasn't something he'd been expecting to learn; Theseus always seemed to like being a bachelor. He'd had more girlfriends than Newt cared to count, thus he was struggling to remember the name of the last witch he'd been seeing.

"Abigail?"

His brother grimaced and he shook his head. "Merlin's beard, no. I broke things off with her ages ago."

Newt frowned, a little embarrassed he couldn't recall the break up. "Oh…"

If he did remember right, the Magizoologist wasn't surprised that things had turned out poorly with her. From what he could recall of the witch she was more interested in his brother's fame than Theseus himself. Even their mother – who could get along with practically anyone – wasn't too taken with Abigail Portmore.

"Her name is Lillian Bell," Theseus explained a moment later.

He tapped the counter, eyeing the bald man behind the counter, and he refilled the empty glass without a word. Suddenly Theseus looked somewhat nervous – which wasn't one of his usual expressions. It appeared there was more he wanted to say, but the words weren't coming out.

"What?" Newt encouraged. He didn't like seeing Theseus in the state he was in.

He threw down half of his drink, as if doing so would build up his courage, and finally looked at his younger sibling. "She's not a witch. She's a Squib."

It struck Newt why his brother was suddenly so nervous; he was worried what he would think. Most pureblood wizards held an unnecessarily harsh prejudice against Muggles born to magical families. Newt, however, didn't care. What did it matter if she was a witch or a Muggle? She could've been a Runespore for all he cared – anyone would be better than Abigail.

"And I'm sure she's lovely," Newt said reassuringly with a genuine smile.

Theseus perked up. "She is."

"Do Mother and Father know? That she's a Squib, I mean?" Newt doubted very much their mother would care; she herself came from a family with plenty of non-magical persons. Their father likely would be the one to have any kind of apprehension.

Theseus finished his drink and shrugged. "They know. Dad initially wasn't too taken with the idea— that was until he met her. Mum, as you can imagine, was over the moon." His grey eyes glanced around the noisy pub and he smiled fondly. "I met her here, and I've got to tell you, Newt, it's so wonderful to talk to a woman who has no idea who I am."

Newt suddenly felt very warm and content seeing how happy his brother was. It made him smile wide and he wondered for a moment if perhaps what he was feeling was akin to what Tina felt when her sister was happy with Jacob.

"I'm glad for you," he congratulated him. Newt ordered a round, seizing his glass and holding it up in his brother's direction. "I look forward to meeting my future sister-in-law."

Theseus clanked his glass against Newt's. "Cheers!"

They finished the drinks and his older brother grinned. "It's good you want to meet her, because I've asked her to meet us here." His drunken fingers fumbled the chain to his pocket watch as he pulled it from his waistcoat to check the time. "She should be here any moment."

Newt was suddenly the nervous one. He was happy for his brother – overjoyed in fact – but he hadn't intended on being introduced to a complete stranger. He figured Theseus' fiancé was kind and lovely as he'd said, but he feared she may be disappointed to learn that the younger Scamander was far less enigmatic than the man she would soon marry. Newt was compelled to order another drink for just himself, and drank it down quickly hoping the alcohol would calm his nerves. His brother was too many whiskeys deep to notice Newt's changed body language, he instead sat on the edge of his stool eagerly watching the doorway.

"Lillian! Darling!" Theseus all but jumped up a moment later when he spotted her, gesturing with wild arms for a tall slender woman with honey hair and lips red as rose petals.

Newt took a deep breath to gather himself as best he could, and stood as well. He staggered only slightly – the alcohol's doing – straightening his waistcoat with one hand and smoothing his unruly hair with the other.

She reminded him a little of Queenie when he got a closer look at her. Her skin was far paler, but her aquamarine eyes glistened as she smiled, and her silky hair fell in elegant waves to her shoulders. Even the dark ruby dress she wore reminded him of his friend across the sea.

Theseus hastily pulled her small figure into his arms and he kissed her with vigor before introducing her. "Lillian, I'd like you to meet my little brother, Newton."

"Newt, please," he corrected quickly tipping his head politely. "Call me Newt."

She grinned widely with enthusiasm. "It's nice to finally meet you, Newt."

"Likewise," he forced a small smile.

Theseus fetched another stool for Lillian, placed it between himself and Newt, and called for another round of drinks.

"Theseus has told me so much about you," she said, looking to Newt. "You travel the world studying magical creatures…" Her expression turned to one of playful envy. "…that must be so exciting!"

Her interest in his travels and work coaxed him from his shell somewhat. "It is," he said. "In fact I just returned from Hungary. I was called there to help with dragon hatchlings."

Her eyes lit up in childlike wonder. "Oh my! How extraordinary!"

Newt couldn't help but to grin; she was so much different than the girls his brother was usually with. "Yes, quite extraordinary," he agreed.

"In any case, it sounds far more riveting than some fancy magical policeman." Lillian's tone was teasing as she playfully elbowed Theseus' side.

He feigned offence. "I'll have you know, my job is very prestigious in Newt and I's world." He friskily tickled her side and she let out a series of high pitched giggles. Newt's cheeks flushed pink watching the two of them, and he moved his eyes back to his half empty glass.

"Theseus Scamander!" Lillian said sternly, still fighting her giggles. "Please control your hands!"

His older brother held up open palms. "As you wish, my darling." Theseus placed a lingering kiss to her rosy cheek and the two of them smiled at each other for a long time.

In the short time Newt had known her he could already tell that Lillian was a perfect match for his brother. She saw him just as Theseus – not the war hero or the Auror – a man with odd magical abilities. She was the contrast he needed to keep him grounded when he let his ego take the reigns as he sometimes did. Newt was proud to be able to call her family.

"I'm sure mother can't wait for the two of you to be married." Newt thought aloud, even though he hadn't meant to. He scowled at his glass that was suddenly empty – he didn't remember finishing it. The bartender refilled the drink, presumably due to the intense frown Newt had given the empty glass. Despite starting to feel somewhat wishy-washy, the Magizoologist shrugged and brought the now full glass to his lips.

"Yeah," he heard Theseus say. "She's under the impression that both of her sons will be married soon."

Newt practically choked on his drink. The strong liquid burned his throat and nose as he coughed; his eyes even began to water. "What on earth would make her think that?"

While he was somewhat appalled at his brother's bluntness, a certain dark-haired, American Auror popped into his mind. He quickly pushed the thought of her away however, still feeling the need to scowl at his brother.

Theseus laughed and shrugged. There was an impish twinkle in his eyes that Newt had trouble distinguishing if it was on account of the amount of drinks he'd had or something completely different.

"It might have something to do with spending Christmas in America. I was surprised when I showed up for Christmas dinner and you weren't there."

"I went to visit friends," Newt spoke defensively, still trying to wrap his mind around his mother's assumptions.

"Yes, that's what she said, but she also said you went to give a copy of your book to a girl you met there."

Lillian smiled at Newt then, as if she'd suddenly become privy to more information; which only confused Newt further.

"I also happen to know that the copy of your book sitting in Mum and Dad's library isn't the first one off the press, like you promised them." Theseus looked smug as he took another drink.

Newt's eyes narrowed and he glowered at him, growing irritated. "I'd appreciate it if that would remain between us, Theseus."

His older brother's alcohol intake was beginning to affect his usual charming persona and twist it into the swollen-headed git Newt was less fond of. He offered a drunken smile as he reached out and patted Newt's shoulder. "No worries, little brother. I'm a master of secrets."

Theseus was about to order another drink, having finished what remained in his glass, until Lillian stopped him. The Magizoologist couldn't see her face, but whatever expression it held was strong enough to keep his brother from ordering more liquor. Newt was glad for that, when it was just the two of them he could never get his brother to listen when he'd had too many drinks. Lillian's keen ability to keep Theseus from getting completely plastered was just another reason Newt could tell she was good for his brother.

"So," Lillian started, after settling Theseus, smiling at Newt. "Who is she?"

"She's um, an Auror for MACUSA…essentially the American Ministry of Magic…" Newt explained, feeling his cheeks grow somewhat warm just thinking of Miss Goldstein.

"An Auror!? You fancy an Auror!?" Newt's brother yelled. Luckily the pub was already quite noisy, and as such no one paid his out burst any attention.

"Theseus, darling," Lillian put a finger to her fiancé's lips. "There is absolutely no need for shouting."

He frowned but said nothing while his fiancé turned back to Newt with the same kind smile she'd flashed him a few moments ago. "What's her name?"

"Tina," Newt said, feeling a grin form across his face as he spoke her name. "Her name is Tina."

It was dark by the time the three of them ventured out of the pub and onto the damp London streets. They were all feeling a little tipsy on account of their drinks – none so much as Theseus, who was properly tanked. He was still yammering on about the mysterious girl his little brother fancied in America, while Lillian gallantly tried to get him to keep his voice down. Newt paid his brother little attention though, knowing even in his own somewhat intoxicated state that Theseus would have trouble recalling anything he'd said in a few hours.

As it turned out, Lillian's flat was only a few blocks from the one Newt kept, which made Theseus feel the need to escort them both home. Thankfully when they reached the Magizoologist's street, his older brother had given up on shouting about Tina, and instead focused his drunken energy on humming loudly. It was off key and only slightly bothersome – definitely better than the previous shouting.

The flat that Newt had in London wasn't in a fancy neighborhood, nor was the dwelling itself fancy, but it was sturdy and close to the Ministry. He'd never needed anything more than the basic necessities; as long as there was a roof over his head to keep out England's notorious rain, he was content.

When the trio drew nearer Newt's door, the Magizoologist could make out the plump silhouette of a bird perched on the wrought-iron rail of his stoop. The sight made his heart jump in his chest at first glance, thinking maybe one of his creatures had managed to escape, however he quickly deduced that the creature was an owl.

The bird fluttered down the metal rail and impatiently dropped an envelope into Newt's hand as he reached for it. Just before the animal flew away he tossed the bird a dead mouse – found somewhere in his blue coat of many pockets – and thanked the owl.

He hadn't been expecting any mail, and his mind wondered if maybe it was from her. He felt his heart swell and his cheeks grow warm reading the name stamped across the parchment.

FROM THE DESK OF PORPENTINA GOLDSTEIN
MACUSA AUROR OFFICE
NEW YORK CITY, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

TO NEWTON SCAMANDER
MINISTRY OF MAGIC BEAST DIVISION
LONDON, ENGLAND

"Are you being summoned back to Hungary to deal with more dragons, little brother?" Theseus' words spilled from his mouth in a confusing slur that made him sound far less intelligent than he was. Lillian even rolled her eyes at him and shook her head.

"No," Newt answered still looking at the envelope, feeling sober suddenly. "It's from, Tina."

Theseus let out a cry, resembling a mix between a belch and a chuckle. "She must fancy you back!"

Lillian quickly turned to hush him with a soft giggle and stern eye.

Newt glowered at his brother. "I can assure you, Theseus, she's just a friend."

For some reason his words made him feel disheartened. Tina was a dear friend to him, but if he was being honest with himself, on more than one occasion he'd found his mind thinking about her in ways that were far more indecent.

He stood at the base of the steps leading to his flat, eyes still locked with the envelope, chewing his bottom lip.

"I best take him home with me," Lillian said after a moment, tucking her arm around Theseus' waist. "It was so good to finally meet you, Newt."

He glanced up from his letter at the sound of his name. "Yes, you as well. And, err, welcome to the family." Newt forced a quick smile.

She nodded. "Goodnight, Newt."

"Yes, goodnight, Newt." Theseus bellowed. "I cannot wait to meet this American who's stolen my baby brother's heart."

"Good night you two." He sighed in response, giving up trying to argue with his brother, being in the state he was in.

When the couple walked off into the night, Newt wasted no time getting inside his dark flat to read what Tina had sent him. He heedlessly tossed his coat onto his sofa in the parlor as he made his way to his study near the back of the flat. Seeing her quick but neat writing brought a smile to his face as he read the letter.

Newt,

I was so glad to receive your letter last month, especially with the day I'd been having at the time, it felt good to read your words. Please, you don't have to keep apologizing about leaving on Christmas, I understand. I'm just happy knowing that it was you who rescued those dragons. I've never met someone as kind and compassionate as you are. If you want to, then I think you should write a book about the hatchlings and your friends working with them, I would certainly love to read it. I've read your first book twice now, so new material would be appreciated.

Our New Year was good. Jacob and Queenie set off fireworks on the roof – Mrs. Esposito wasn't too thrilled by their celebrating as you can imagine. You'll be glad to know they are both well— in fact they are part of the reason I'm writing. They're getting married, Newt. I'm so happy for them, but at the same time. . . . I just wish things were the way they are where you're from.

Anyway, they wanted me to tell you, and that even though they aren't sure when they'll get married, you most definitely have to attend.

I hope so very much that things are well with you and your creatures. I look forward to your reply.

Yours,

Tina G.

P.S I had to send this via one of MACUSA's owls; ours seems to have gotten lost trying to inform one of Queenie's friends of her engagement.

Newt wasn't sure just how many times he'd read the letter, he was sure however that by the time he'd fetched a quill and paper to reply, he had every word memorized. Her words came off the page like she was there speaking to him, and a familiar yearning sensation pulled at him. It was with an eager smile that he began writing.

Dearest Tina,

(A/N): Next chapter will be up tonight or tomorrow! Let me know what you thought!