Blizzard of Love
My submission for the Fantastic Beasts Secret Santa and the lovely ravens-and-writings, who wanted some Newtina fluff. The submission included the header picture. Thank you to Katie Havok for the fantastic beta read and all the help.
It started snowing aptly on Christmas Eve, around midday, quickly forming a thick layer of powdery white atop the frozen ground.
Newt didn't mind. They'd been back from France for nearly three weeks now, choosing to spend what short respite they were granted at his London flat instead of returning to their respective homes, preserving their strength for the hardship that was sure to come.
The flat was small and crowded, yet they'd survived much tighter quarters these past few months, and it felt like home. Chanukah had come and gone with Tina and Queenie lighting their candles every night and Newt and Jacob watching in enraptured silence as the radiance of their singing brightened the flat.
Jacob and Queenie had made a home for themselves in the kitchen that afternoon, citing the need to prepare for the impending festivities the following day, and she laughed, conspiratorially winking at him over her shoulder as she sifted through the wistful longing in his mind.
"Yes, I think a bit of fresh air would do ya both some good. We'll be alright over here, won't we, honey?" she asked, eyes twinkling mischievously as Jacob gave her a knowing look and hummed in agreement.
Newt wisely refrained from commenting on the armada of sugary confections already lining every surface of his kitchen. He'd barely had a minute to talk to Tina alone in weeks, so he took it for the unexpected grace it was and offered her his arm, Summoning their coats and Apparating them out of his drawing room without so much as a backward glance.
Tina gasped at the view that greeted her, turning to him with an exuberant, beaming smile and he knew he'd made the right choice. I
The snow kept falling steadily, crunching deliciously under their feet as they walked and Newt secretly delighted in the fact that she still hadn't let go of his arm. They were confident in each other's company now, confident in the feelings shared between them, yet her touch never failed to set his nerve endings alight.
"Where are we?" she asked, breath coming in soft white puffs.
"Hyde Park," he said, admiring the way the snow illuminated her features. "I know it's nothing like Central Park, but it has its charms."
Tina pivoted on the spot, turning her face skywards to watch the snowflakes fall against the beam of the street lamp they were standing under, grinning delightedly as she spun to face him once more.
She dropped his arm to reach for the comfort of his hand instead, aligning their palms and twining their fingers, giving him a gentle squeeze as he looked at her in mild surprise. "Well then, lead the way, Mr Scamander."
They walked on in silence through the deserted park, revelling in the perfect quiet and serenity of the city blanketed in snow, its usual cacophony of sounds transformed into an echoing silence.
It reminded him of his solitary walks on Hogwarts grounds, among the snowy forest, with Leta home for the holidays and only his own footsteps for company. He hadn't minded then, yet he couldn't deny the secret thrill down his spine at the sight of the pair of tracks following in their wake, their significance not lost on him.
He carefully picked his way along the banks of the frozen Serpentine pond, looking out over the solid expanse of water at their feet. There was a small break in the ice a little further along, where birds had gathered in a flurry of squawks and flapping wings; a wild assortment of ducks, swans and geese.
Tina pulled them to a stop along the withered old stone bridge spanning the narrowest point. He followed her line of sight to a pair of white swans gliding along the water's silvery surface with their elegant necks bend towards one another, nuzzling their beaks at every turn.
"They're beautiful," she breathed.
"Magnificent," Newt agreed, yet he wasn't referring to the majestic birds below, too preoccupied with the woman by his side. She gave an unladylike snort, playfully rolling her eyes and slapping his shoulder with the back of her hand.
Tina was radiant as she laughed, unburdened and free, face awash with childlike excitement and cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink from the cold. Tiny ice crystals had caught in her hair and on the tips of her lashes, sparkling in the rapidly fading evening light and he found himself unable to resist, slowly swaying into her.
She turned to him with a questioning brow, eyes dancing with residual mirth. He raised a hand to her hair, gently threading his fingers through its silky strands and, after finding no resistance there, pulling her impossibly closer. Tina went willingly, never averting her gaze, lips parting in anticipation, and he wondered whether she'd be able to hear his heart beating in his chest.
It came to him then, a mere hairbreadth from her lips, her breath warm on his own, a realisation so profound it made him feel a little lightheaded. No eye contact had ever felt so easy, so life-affirming and inexorably vital as it did with her, and for the first time in his life he found himself unable and unwilling to hide away.
This thing between them was only just beginning but, growing stronger with each small touch and every whispered word, their affections expanding and spreading to the very tips of their fingers, until it was large enough to encompass and swallow them whole. They had skirted around it, circled it like predators circling their prey — circled each other — yet they never dared to acknowledge it.
A hasty kiss and a stolen moment of passion, shared in a time of adrenaline-fuelled desperation, a contact so fleeting he later wasn't sure whether he'd dreamt it all, was all they had allowed themselves.
"Tina," he croaked, voice cracking with emotion.
His hand went to the inside pocket of his coat on instinct, trembling fingers brushing against the small velveteen box that'd been there ever since he'd received his first royalties, throat tight with uncertainty.
Surely this wasn't the right moment. Would there ever be a right time where their future was headed? They'd been near death enough times now to last a lifetime, yet his gut-feeling told him they were headed for even stormier waters, something he couldn't fathom facing alone.
She opened her eyes at the urgency in his voice, raising gentle fingers to stroke at his chin as her brow furrowed in concern. "Tell me."
He shivered at her touch and turned his head, capturing her hand and kissing every finger in turn, before redirecting his gaze to hers. She gasped at the look in his eyes, now a gleaming bright aureate, his jaw set tight and lips pressed into a thin line of grim determination.
"Tina — " he swallowed, words sticking at the back of his throat until she stroked his jaw again, never blinking as she held his gaze. "I adore you, very much. You must know that."
"And I you, you narish mensh," she breathed with a breathless laugh, gaze unwavering as she waited for him to continue, determined to hear him out.
He smiled, brief and tight, breathing steadily until he'd gathered his resolve once more. "I also wanted to thank you."
"What on earth for?" she interjected, echoing his question from that day on the docks, all those months ago.
"Everything. These past few weeks have been… wonderful, and I hold your company in the highest regard, so much so that I don't wish to anticipate its end," he continued, encouraged by her reaction. "It's my intention, one day in the near future, to ask you properly and when the time is right, but know this, Tina: I am finished saying goodbye."
He lifted her fingers to his lips, thoughtfully stroking the back of her hand and depositing a kiss on the knuckle of her third finger to emphasise the meaning of his words. Tina's eyes burned then, her sudden tears entirely unrelated to the biting evening cold.
"I'm sorry if this is all too forward and presumptuous of me —" he began, but she lifted a finger to his lips to stop him in his tracks.
"Newt," she said dryly, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips and her voice dropping to a breathless whisper. "Kiss me already."
He grinned, more than happy to oblige. Newt felt weightless, feather-light like he was floating ten inches above the snow as he kissed her, again and again, and again until their lungs burned and hearts soared, blessed and full.
They clutched at each other in their delirium and his arms went around her narrow waist to squeeze her tight as they revelled in each other's warmth. She clung to his front, burying her face in the crook of his neck to inhale his comforting scent, and he bent to kiss the side of her head.
Tina nuzzled his neck, arms winding around his shoulders as the urge to be close to him intensified; an intense longing and the need to crawl under his skin.
"Take me home, Mr Scamander," she whispered against his pulse point, delighting in his answering shiver as her lips brushed his collar and she did it again, chasing the goosebumps along his neck.
Newt sighed. "Anything for you," he breathed, tightening his arms as she wound herself around him and turning on the spot to spirit them away.
They arrived home with cheeks flushed with cold and wearing matching face-splitting grins, deliriously drunk in love. Intoxicated on their own, private brand of happiness.
The snow didn't let up for well over two days, and the city huffed and puffed before finally admitting defeat. Neither of them minded to shut themselves away for a little longer, to revel in their newfound euphoria, selfishly keeping it to themselves before having to share it with the rest of the world. Whatever danger lay ahead, they would always have each other and know that this new, unwavering feeling they hadn't been able to name before, was the feeling of home.