A/N: I'm so excited to be posting the next part in my Laughter Lines Series! This has been a joy and a struggle to write so I hope you enjoy!
July 4th 1928, New York City
With an abrupt jolt, and an unwelcomed wave of nausea, Newt Scamander appeared within the walls of a familiar flat. Though his eyes were squeezed tightly shut, the sudden onset of vertigo rendered him considerably irritable, and extinguished all his usual care for his manners. A vibrant and somewhat creative string of profanities spilled from his lips as he struggled to keep his usually well-balanced footing. He chanced cracking his eyelids open to snag a quick glance around, seeking something sturdy to cling to. Foot by weaving foot he staggered to a nearby kitchen chair, shutting his eyes once more. He knew the furniture around him remained still, yet his warped vision gave the illusion everything was spinning with every look he risked. Once more, he cursed the method by which he had traveled.
Portkeys were not completely new to him; on more than one occasion, they had been used during the war as a quick escape in sticky situations. Those times, however, the repugnant after effects were dulled by the adrenaline pumping through his veins. What he wouldn't give to have that same rush coursing through him that very moment to numb some of the disorientation. Newt reflected, knuckles white as he gripped the chair, blinking away his dizziness, on the excellent reasons portkeys were illegal. There was no disputing how exceedingly convenient they were for long-distance travel, but that usefulness (at least in Newt's newly acquired opinion) was overshadowed by the side effects.
When the interior of the Goldstein's apartment slowly ceased spinning, Newt gingerly unclenched his free hand to reveal a brass skeleton key. The trinket seemed so trivial, so innocent in his open palm, yet Newt found he could do nothing but glare at the seemingly harmless key. It had been a late birthday gift from his brother, which Newt had initially been hesitant to accept due to the air of pride Theseus radiated when he'd handed the tiny parcel over.
"You're a difficult man to shop for," Theseus had said with a smug grin and a bit of hubris, as he'd watched Newt open the gift. "It's a port-KEY." He had winked, laughing at his own joke. "That little devil will take you exactly to your Miss Goldstein's apartment."
The bauble was an uncharacteristically thoughtful gift, coming from his older brother, and the notion of it thrilled Newt; never mind as to how Theseus had come to own or commission the gift. However, he had not thought to ask where exactly he would land which, as it turned out, was literally in the middle of Tina's living room.
"Bugger!" Newt huffed as the realization settled with the return of his vision. "Damn you, Theseus. Bit rude — popping into someone's flat, don't you think?"
He was aware his brother was thousands of miles away unable to hear his scolding, but Newt also knew, somewhere, Theseus was having a good laugh at how clever he thought he was.
With a heavy sigh, and one last curse for his brother, Newt smoothed the wrinkles on his waistcoat and attempted to tame his unruly hair with a heedless comb of his fingers. For the moment he was grateful to find the humble little apartment empty; it saved him the embarrassment of showing up without an invitation. His gratitude, however, didn't steal away the pang of disappointment that worked through him finding himself alone. Mugs sat freshly washed on the counter adjacent to the sink. There was a faint scent of lemons, cut, squeezed, and tossed in the bin, but there was no one but himself within those four walls, which caused him to frown. Tina had been on his mind since the moment she'd left. Even spending lengthy afternoons in his case with all his creatures could not hamper how much he missed her. Newt longed to see Tina, and finding her not at home was more than disheartening.
He lingered by the chair, watching the glistening particles dance in and out of the columns of early afternoon sun. The floating dust was hypnotic, and he would have continued his mesmerized gaze awhile longer, if only to pity himself, had it not been for the barrage of angry chirps resonating from the breast pocket of his waistcoat. Not a moment later, a disgruntled bowtruckle poked his head out.
Pickett's flair for toddler-like tantrums was something Newt had always found rather endearing; Pickett was about as intimidating as an infant mooncalf, even if the feisty creature did have a tendency to bite when he was riled up. Thankfully, he seemed content to merely chide his caretaker for the moment. The bowtruckle scaled Newt's sleeve, chittering the entire climb, until he was perched on Newt's shoulder, looking more vexed than ever.
"I did tell you, didn't I?" Newt fought a smile as he sighed. "I tried to get you to stay with everyone else before we left, but you just wouldn't have it, would you?"
Pickett chirped defensively, shaking his leafy sprouts.
"I did warn you about the portkey," Newt recanted, trying to contain his amusement. "I'm sorry it scared you. But I did warn you, Pickett."
The creature remained annoyed, only caving upon Newt's peace offering: a tiny handful of woodlice. Almost immediately, Pickett's glower faded and all Newt could do was shake his head adoringly.
"Better?"
Pickett nodded, tiny green cheeks bulging with his treat.
Newt smirked, watching the creature from the corner of his eyes. He was glad to have him along, even with the ranting and the biting. With his case so far from him (safe back in England), it was nice to have one of his creatures with him; Newt always felt more himself when they were near.
"It seems we've missed them…" Newt sighed feeling that twinge of grief work through him again.
He cast a hesitant look to the portkey still in his hand, and felt his stomach churn uneasily at the thought of enduring all of that once more.
"Should we wait?" he asked the bowtruckle, tossing the magical key into his pocket. "If she's at work, it's likely she will be returning shortly, then—ouch!"
Pickett yanked Newt's ear, jabbing a long green finger at a colorful pamphlet laying open on the kitchen table. He chittered eagerly and continued pointing until Newt retrieved it.
"Oh," Newt studied the booklet with a hopeful smile. "Independence Day Celebration?" His eyebrow formed an arch as he recalled the date in his head.
Slowly, intrigue, the promise of adventure, and finding Tina had his modest simper swelling into a wide, excited grin.
"Are you up for a bit of an adventure?" Newt asked his small green friend. "No portkey this time, I promise," he added, noticing the line of concern forming on the creature's brow.
Pickett chirped enthusiastically, with a whimsical nod of his leafy sprouts. With a few quick reaches of his long, spiny fingers, the bowtruckle returned to his hiding spot inside Newt's breast pocket, where he continued to chitter with a pleased sounding bray of chirps.
"Me too," Newt agreed, tucking the advertisement into his inner jacket pocket.
In spite of not being a native New Yorker, Newt was a traveler at heart and found his way back to Central Park easily. He needed no map, or advice; he had an adept mind for remembering directions and was able to retrace his steps from previous visits with little effort.
The city was alive — practically buzzing — with an energetic, celebratory flair that tugged cheerfully at the corners of Newt's lips. He immersed himself happily in the world around him, taking in the sights as he strolled leisurely down the crowded sidewalks. Patriotism hung as heavily as humidity in the air. Every other block, vendors could be caught selling handfuls of bottle rockets, amidst other sorts of incendiary displays. All of the storefronts he passed were decorated with ribbons and drapery in the usual American colors; small children toddled after their mothers waving tiny star spangled banners. The air was flooded with the smells of bakeries and delicatessens preparing for the day's festivities under the faint layer of residual exhaust puffing out of every passing vehicle. To some degree, it all felt like a pantomime, a sort of parody of itself: as though most of the people that hurried by cared little as to what day it was and the significance of the ornamentation. Yet, there they were, rushing to buy fireworks and streamers of red, white, and blue.
Even if it was all merely a ruse, the sight was still inspiring enough to further lighten Newt's mood.
Newt cut through most of the riotous foot traffic with nimble strides and well calculated dodges — a technique he had perfected in the equally teeming halls of Hogwarts. It was a sort of dance that he rather enjoyed, mainly on account that it kept him clear of other people and got him to his destination all the faster. Nonetheless, finding the park in less of a frenzy brought a pleased sigh to his lips. People still moved in droves, but the careless haste of the streets vanished under the cover of the trees.
Immediately the air was clearer and the sun was brighter. Newt filled his lungs with the scent of nature and the mixture of fragrances made his grin unfurl into a toothy smile. Not ten feet behind him lay a jungle of modern delights most of the world thrived on, but none of that thrilled him like the scent of fresh grass and abundant foliage. Central Park was a shimmering oasis in a desert of dull gray and he was glad to enjoy it once more.
He stopped just shy of the stone-gated entrance, casting a quizzical look around. The hot July sun bore down on him unforgivingly, and he quickly worked himself free of his suit jacket as he weighed how best to begin his search. With the garment casually hooked on one finger over his shoulder, Newt opted to follow a group of families carrying picnic baskets. The adventure of exploring the park's territory, coupled with the prospect of finding Tina, was enough to keep his feet moving forward. She would, he thought, have chosen this place to come for an outing.
Choosing to follow the stream of picnickers had been the type of calculated whimsy that was the hallmark of Newt's usual methodology. His instinctive grasp of cause and effect, coupled with a childlike wonder and willingness to leap without appearing to look, was the catalyst to many of the strange situations which had earned him his niche in the wizarding world. Today, it would help him find Tina. Attending a Muggle festival was surely Jacob or Queenie's idea, and Newt easily deduced food had to be involved if the discarded lemons in the trash were any indication. His unwitting navigators led him along brick pathways, over bridges and past various street performers, while Newt kept an eye out for his American friends. He generously tossed a few Muggle coins into one man's open violin case as he went by, recognizing the old Irish tune he played on the solemn sounding instrument. It was a strange melody to catch during a day revolving around a nation's freedom, but Newt figured most were unaware of the origin of the song. The man thanked Newt as he continued past him, his simple gratitude tugging at the corners of Newt's smile to stretch his delight across his face.
Almost an hour had passed since he had started his adventure, although Newt had stopped more than once to enjoy various performers along the way. Each one he tipped with a few stray American coins before venturing on. His pockets and his heart were a little lighter; even his feet moved with a whimsical flourish. The afternoon ticked on and not once did the length of his journey deter his optimism or his hope of finding her.
When he happened upon them, he couldn't help but linger — oblivious to the hot sun baking his scalp — wanting only to watch her. True, he'd enjoyed every man playing songs or acting out humorous skits, but none of their performances awed him like the simple sight of Tina. She was laughing and profoundly radiant, nestled under the shade of an old oak tree with her sister and Jacob. The lavender dress she wore set his heart racing and the way the wind tossed her hair to reveal the perfect angle of her neck and shoulder was enough to hinder his breathing. Newt wanted to be content just to watch and admire her, but he wasn't. He missed the feel of her, the softness of her skin and the heated friction of her embrace. To hold her: that was where he would finally find rest.
Anticipation was quickly building in the pit of his stomach, mixing warmly with that hint of desire that the sight of her always awoke. His palms were suddenly sweaty and the tingling in his belly made his usually agile and measured canter somewhat sloppy when his feet got going. He was certain he looked ridiculous traipsing through the tall grass on wobbling legs like a newborn deer. Eventually, and with a bit of refined focus, his legs found their rhythm. It was his voice that failed him next. Words stuck excitedly at the back of his throat, each fighting to spill from his tongue first. He tried shouting to gain Tina's attention, but all he could manage was a faint rasp that sounded something like her name. Thankfully, Queenie spotted him a second later.
She perked up promptly the moment her eyes caught sight of him (or perhaps she'd heard his thoughts as he approached, Newt wasn't sure). Immediately, the contented happiness on her petite face was swiftly overtaken by a delighted smile stretching to each of her ears. Queenie hastily seized the sandwich Tina was eating, causing her expression to swirl into confusion, and threw a pointed finger his direction.
Newt was close enough then to watch the flurry of emotions twist Tina's features as she bolted to her feet. Her eyebrows furrowed together, just for an instant, and for the briefest of moments he wondered if he had been right to come here after so long away. Admittedly, time had once again gotten away from him, and he had been swept up in all manner of work both for the Ministry, and by his own scientific curiosity. Even so, never had a day passed when he wasn't, for the majority of his time, thinking about when he was to see Tina again. Her alleged displeasure therein was perfectly sound; at least Newt had remembered to keep in touch with a frankly ridiculous plethora of letters.
All of the uncertainty taking root in his mind vanished when those mixed expressions settled into a soft grin, one that pressed that dimple into her cheek that Newt was growing increasingly fond of with each of her smiles.
Without the shade to shield her, sunlight danced across her skin with a pearlescent sheen. The capricious winds spun her dark hair and the skirt of her dress; a sight that captivated Newt with fresh inquiry as to how a creature such as her could possibly exist. She was a luminous creation of strength and poise and when her arms folded lightly around his neck, Newt knew he was home.
"Took you long enough." Tina teased, eyes sparkling up at him.
In his excitement, Newt dropped his jacket to the grass behind him, to circle her waist with both of his hands. Neither of them minded the heat that came with the other's sudden closeness. They stayed locked in the arms of the other taking in every shred of that moment: memorizing how it felt to have their bodies so very close.
"My deepest apologies," Newt laughed, pulling her closer still.
"I forgive you," she murmured, tangling her fingers in the hairs at the base of his neck, her lip caught between her teeth.
Newt could feel eyes on them, Jacob and Queenie's to be precise. A sigh escaped his lips as he stole a glance to the couple seated a few yards away. He didn't let the disappointment of finding an audience twist onto his face however, still too high from the euphoria of having Tina in his arms again. Nevertheless, all Newt wanted to do was sweep Tina off of her feet and kiss her so she knew how much he had missed her.
Tina seemed to catch on, tossing a glower over her shoulder to her overly observant sister and friend. She remained joined to him however, sighing with a slight shake of her head.
"So, how did you get here this time?" she asked casually, in an attempt to steer the tension away from becoming too intimate. "Not by boat I'm guessing."
"No," though that would have been less nauseating. "I came by way of portkey, actually."
"Portkey?" Tina repeated quizzically, browhoisting high onto her forehead.
Newt chuckled somewhat nervously, suddenly very aware he was speaking to an Auror.
"Yes," he said cautiously. "It was a gift from my brother so I can visit more frequently."
The thought had never crossed his mind as to how Tina would react to him owning an illegal item such as a portkey. She had a tendency to take everything at face value, especially when it came to magical law.
"I could arrest you for having one, you know." Tina's narrow-eyed expression and serious tone fell away quickly and she smirked.
"Oh, because that worked so well for you last time," Newt teased sarcastically.
Tina feigned an offended scoff, pulling out of his grasp so she could issue him a sturdy but playful elbow jab to his ribs.
"Who's to say it didn't work out for me?" Tina said, voice growing softer as she spoke, tenderly gliding her fingers to tangle with his.
The look in her smoldering eyes triggered more of that desire to swirl through him. He wondered if she felt it too: that buzzing tingle that he could feel right down to the tips of his toes. It made his keen mind cloudy and his tranquil heart fervid. It was a strange and altogether new sensation he was doing his best to understand with his scientific mind.
Slowly, and as calmly as he could in that rush of emotion, he drew her hand to his lips and kissed her delicate fingers.
"It seems to have played out well for the both of us." He smiled. "I have missed you, Miss Goldstein."
Her cheeks were flushed — a pale pink — and she was biting her lip again. "I've missed you too, Mr. Scamander."
After a moment, Newt tossed another reluctant glance over her shoulder to where Queenie and Jacob continued to watch them.
"I should probably say hello to your sister and Jacob," Newt said, moving to retrieve his forsaken jacket lying on the ground next to his feet.
Tina nodded forcibly and stepped away from him. "Probably."
He offered her his hand, and smiled at how quickly she took it.
A/N: Furthermore, you can follow me on Tumblr fandom-non-sense
That is where you can keep up with my progress, check out my favorite works by other talented authors and even find a link to keep me caffeinated so I write quicker ;).
Also HUGE thank you and shout out to my betas CuivienenGazer and katiehavok. They are the true heroes here and I owe them both so much for making these chapters readable.