Phoenix: 22nd June 1931 - 9
Linnet: 13th January 1933 - 7
Leo: 2nd March 1935 – 5
One section is from my fic "Lay Your Body Down, Rock Your Tears Away"
October 1940:
She had been hoping to slip back into her seat without anyone noticing, hoping to avoid the embarrassment of being caught – but of course she couldn't.
"You eaten something off, Tina?"
Tina winced as Dawkins peered around his desk at her; even with his eye-patch covering most of his face, she could tell that he was somewhat concerned. He had returned home from fighting on the front line – only for a brief few months, just to give him some relief – but it had changed him all the same, made him somewhat more anxious.
She dreaded to know what he had seen.
"I'm fine."
"Tina." He looked at her pointedly. "We've been working together for…what? Eleven years now? I know when you're fine and when you're not – and you're not, judging by the way you sprinted out the room just then. Come on, you can tell me…" He grinned, and suddenly it was like the old days, before he had gone to fight and lost his eye, when they could laugh together. "I'm your partner, remember?"
"I'm aware you're my partner," Tina muttered drily, but she smiled weakly all the same. "It's nothing, honestly – it must have been something wrong with the pork we had last night at dinner...it had been in our fridge so long, it'd probably gone off."
Dawkins chuckled at that, leaning back in his chair; he looked impossibly older than he had when he'd first left, she noticed, more grey and lined. "I see. You'll have to make sure Newt and the kids don't have food-poisoning then…speaking of the kids, I was wondering when would be a good time to pop over and visit? It's been too long since I last saw them…Phoenix must be a giant by now! He's nine now, right?"
"Nine," She agreed, and she couldn't help but smile fondly at the photograph of the children on her desk – photographs were the only decoration on her desk, of course, and only a bare minimum. "He'll be at school in a couple of years."
"Oh, right!" Dawkins smiled knowingly. "He'll absolutely love Hogwarts, Tina – it's the best wizarding school in the world."
Tina raised an eyebrow and huffed. "Well, that's your opinion…but if you'd been to Ilvermorny, then you'd be singing a different tune."
"Please! Ilvermorny?" He chortled, knowing that he was hitting a nerve by teasing her. "At Ilvermorny, did you have ghosts wandering the corridors? How about Quidditch Cups?"
"Ghosts…the more I hear, the less I'm convinced. Anyway," She began hurriedly, not wanting to continue this conversation. "You know you're welcome to visit whenever you want – just not too late."
"Alright, alright, I understand," He assured her. "I just wanted to know so I could visit before…well."
His grin disappeared, and Tina felt her shoulders sink because she knew what he had been about to say: before I go back to Bulgaria. He wasn't going to be on leave much longer.
"Well, I'm sure they'd enjoy a visit," She told him quietly, looking across her desk at him; she had enjoyed having him back in the office more than she cared to admit, enjoyed getting to see her old partner again – it was going to be awful to have to say goodbye to him a second time, not knowing whether it really would be the last time she got to see him.
Dawkins nodded, not meeting her eye. "Yes. Well. I've got another week and a half left before I go back – I'll make sure to pop by soon."
As he settled back into his paperwork, fun and playful mood having completely disappeared, Tina found herself staring at the pile of papers in front of her and worrying; despite the fact she knew Dawkins was a skilled Auror and that he'd survived well enough so far, this entire war had changed him and she hated it. He'd lost an eye, face awfully scarred, and it hurt to compare what he looked like now to how he had once looked, years and years ago when the two of them had started working together.
At least he's still alive…and he's not missing either, she thought sadly; Theseus was still missing, and with each day that passed it seemed more and more unlikely that he'd be found alive and well. The entire Scamander family were distraught by the news – his wife, Margaret, their two daughters, his parents…Newt. The children. Tina, herself, missed him more than she cared to admit.
And then there was the question of what was going to happen to her; she was the only member of the Senior Investigative Team who hadn't gone to fight, mostly due to the children, and so far she had been making herself useful by helping to train new recruits. The Ministry were sure to change her status soon, however – both the war with Grindelwald and the muggle one with Hitler were continuing to escalate rapidly. She would surely be needed – for the greater good.
The picture of her family – of Newt, herself and the children – caught her eye and she gnawed her lip; it was fairly recent, a moving black and white photograph, taken in the previous summer by Newt's father. She watched as the picture version of Newt hefted Leo in his arms, making the boy giggle; she, herself, was laughing quite happily, Phoenix and Linnet on either side as they hugged her. This had been before the news of Theseus going missing, before a particularly nasty attack on a small team of Aurors in Poland – they had all be so happy, so carefree and relaxed, and she would have given anything for all of them to have stayed in that moment.
It's for the greater good, Tina repeated in her mind resolutely – for if it helped her family somehow, it had to be more than worth it.
"Daddy, Daddy, my turn!"
Newt chuckled as he carefully lowered Leo down to the ground, shaking his head affectionately. "Alright, Lin, alright… Come on," He told her, lowering himself to the floor so that they were level. "Hop on."
Linnet beamed as she happily clambered onto his back, latching her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist; he gave a small groan because, really, he was getting older and the children were getting bigger and his back would be ruined by the time he reached fifty if this carried on.
Having said that, he couldn't say no to his children – so, back be damned, really.
"Alright, hang on tight," He instructed, straightening up. "Now, what shall I be this time?"
Linnet seemed to consider this for a moment, looking around the case – and then she grinned. "The Erumpent! And you've got to do the noises too!"
"Of course, Lin – I wouldn't be an Erumpent unless I made the noises," Newt assured her before setting off. "Right: on we go!"
Phoenix and Leo both cackled as they watched him start to charge around the case, letting out a series of grunts and snorts as he went; Linnet, clutching to his back, started to giggle wildly. So far that day, their father had been not only an Erumpent (twice now) but also a Graphorn, a Griffin, a Thunderbird and a "very tall, very big" Bowtruckle (that had, of course, been Leo's suggestion).
By the time Newt had done a lap of sorts, he was absolutely exhausted – he had been doing this for hours, and that was after all of the other things he had had to do that day as well. However, he could never turn down a request from his children – and it was admittedly a lot of fun.
"Thank you, Daddy!" Linnet chirped once she was safely off of his back again. "You made a good Erumpent!"
He grinned, unable to help himself from chuckling. "Thank you, Lin – I'm glad! Now, boys," He turned to his sons expectantly. "Which of you is next?"
Phoenix gently nudged Leo forwards. "Your turn."
"Do you not want to go, Phee?" Linnet asked, looking confused. "Daddy could be a phoenix if you want!"
"No, I'm…I'm fine."
Newt put a hand on his eldest son's shoulder. "You haven't had a go at all – come on, just once won't hurt, surely…"
"But…" Phoenix hesitated. "I'm nine now – aren't I too big?"
Admittedly, at nine-years-old, he should have been considered too big for this – and he was certainly tall for his age at that – but Newt found himself shaking his head. "Of course not: I'm not quite as old as you probably think I am, I can assure you."
Linnet and Leo both giggled at that, and Phoenix finally smiled weakly. "Okay…just a little go then."
It was a little harder, admittedly, to do this with a nine-year-old boy – but he'd been dealing with creatures of all sizes for decades now: a boy was nothing compared to some of the things he'd had to try and tame.
"Be a phoenix for Phoenix, Daddy!" Linnet called, and Leo nodded in agreement.
"What do you think, son? A phoenix?"
Phoenix grinned to himself. "Yes, okay – a phoenix!"
Newt chuckled before setting off once more, squawking and flapping his arms like they were wings. He was sure he looked like a complete and utter fool – but it was absolutely worth the humiliation, aching back and creaking joints when he heard his son let out a whoop in jubilation, spreading his own arms out.
He was just finishing a lap, rather out of breath again, when he heard Leo cry out, "MUMMY!"; sure enough, Tina was exiting the shed and beaming as their two youngest children ran to greet her.
"Hi, Mum!" Phoenix called happily, waving at her.
Tina looked over, raising her eyebrows at the sight of them. "What are you two doing?"
"Daddy's been giving us rides on his back," Linnet explained excitedly. "I got him to be an Erumpent!"
"I see," Tina said – but she was smiling again, clearly amused. "And what is he now?"
"Why, can't you guess, dear?" Newt questioned teasingly, stretching out his arms again and flapping; he let out a series of squawks and cries, causing all three children to giggle loudly.
His wife snorted to herself fondly as he set their son down. "Of course…a phoenix?" When he nodded, she started to tut to herself. "That wasn't bad, but I'm fairly certain phoenix songs don't sound nearly that awful."
The giggling had turned into full-blown laughter now, and Newt couldn't help but grin warmly at her. "Ah, well, I tried my best - I think I did make a wonderful Erumpent, on the other hand."
Having seen him perform an Erumpent mating dance multiple times, she couldn't help the peals of laughter that escaped her.
She was woken up that morning by a small creature sitting on her chest and purring.
Tina gave a groan but reached to scratch the Kneazle behind the ears. "Yes, good morning to you too."
Fuzzy (named, of course, by Linnet) nuzzled into her hand, tail swishing happily; the children had helped her rescue him a year ago, and he had become especially fond of waking her up in the morning. Early habits aside, he was a wonderful pet – Newt had informed her that Kneazles were loyal and affectionate if they liked the witch or wizard they belonged to, and it certainly appeared that Fuzzy did enjoy the family's company.
Plus, he was somewhat of an alarm-clock – every morning, at six-thirty without fail, he would wake Tina up for work. Whether he knew she was meant to be waking up for work, she didn't know, but it didn't seem too far-fetched an idea given that Kneazles were intelligent.
"I'm awake," She mumbled to him, but she made no effort to move. "I'll get up in a minute."
He purred, shifting his weight; Tina gave another loud groan at the sudden sore feeling in her breasts, opening her eyes to look at him.
"You're getting heavier," She accused, though she wasn't angry. "Has Linnet been feeding you her leftovers again?"
Fuzzy blinked, flicking his plumed tail.
"She has," She affirmed. "Alright, now you've actually woken me up…go on, you can go back to Linnet's room now."
The Kneazle jumped off the bed before watching her as she sat up; despite going to bed relatively early, she was so tired – perhaps it was just work, she told herself, work and worrying about the children. Her chest was still sore, and she couldn't help but sigh to herself – maybe it was just her time of the month making her feel like this.
Fuzzy gave a loud mewl, gazing at her; Tina huffed at him, rolling her eyes. "Yes, alright, I'm getting out of bed, mister. Don't get your tail in a twist."
Newt was still fast asleep in the bed, she noted, not waking as she busied herself with getting ready for the day; he didn't even shift when she sat down on the edge of the bed beside him, buttoning her blouse as she watched him. He always looked so peaceful and at ease when he slept, as silly as it sounded, absolutely unaware of the world around him; it allowed her to take him in, looking at his freckles and how they stood out against his pale skin, even in the moonlight.
She tried not to think about how heartbroken he would be if she got sent away – especially so soon after his brother had gone missing.
Once she was dressed, wand in her pocket, Tina pressed a kiss to the side of his head, cast one last look at him and made her rounds to check on each of the children. Though she was aware that they were all safe and sound in the house (thanks to a number of wards in place), it still gave her some comfort to see them for herself in the morning.
As expected, they were all still fast asleep; Phoenix was practically buried under his duvet, only the top of his head peeking out. She smiled to herself at the sight of him, peeling back the covers just a bit so that she could press a kiss to his forehead. Linnet was spread out like starfish in her bed, one leg hanging out and arms wrapped around a cuddly toy of some kind – her reddish-brown hair was still tied back in a braid, and Tina gently undid it so that it could be loose; her daughter slept on, blissfully ignorant. Leo was curled up under his blankets, fringe falling on his face – he looked so remarkably like Newt, from the mussed hair to the smattering of freckles across his cheeks, that it made her heart warm to look at him. He was still small, much smaller than his older siblings had been at his age, and – in her eyes – still very much the baby of the family.
Routinely checks done, Tina quietly crept down the stairs and to the front room; because of the wards in place around the house, it was impossible to apparate or disapparate anywhere on the property – instead she had taken to using Floo Powder to travel to and from the Ministry every day. Reaching her hand into the pot by the fireplace, she noted to herself that she'd need to pick up some more Floo Powder at some point – probably lunch, if she was lucky – and stepped into the fireplace.
Having travelled by Floo numerous times, she was more than used doing it – and yet, for some reason, as she stepped out into her office she felt her stomach lurch rather unpleasantly.
The world seemed to be spinning as she staggered over to her desk, leaning against it for support; her stomach churned, bile rising, and before she knew it she was gagging into the wastepaper bin that had been on the floor nearby.
She was vaguely aware of the fireplace roaring again as someone used it; a moment later, she heard a familiar voice cry out, "Merlin's Beard, Tina!"
"I'm…I'm fine…"
Dawkins was by her side immediately, putting an arm around her. "You're so bloody stubborn, you know that? Merlin, you're actually retching and you still insist you're fine!" He pressed a hand against her forehead. "You're not warm or anything… Have you eaten today?"
Tina shook her head, trying to straighten up and regain some dignity. "No, nothing."
"Well, that's probably why!" He tutted, though he was obviously worried. "You don't eat enough – you're all skin and bone. Come on, we'll get you sat down and then I'll go and get you something to eat."
"Really, I'm not hungry," She protested, weakly pushing his hands away from her. "I think…I think it was just Flooing, that's all…must have gotten the better of me…"
He didn't look at all convinced as she made her way to her chair, falling into it rather ungracefully. "Tina, I'm being serious; you need to eat some breakfast, especially with the long days we're doing." He paused for a moment, studying her. "Perhaps you should go home."
"No," She disagreed sharply, shooting him a half-hearted glare. "I told you, Dawkins, I'm absolutely fine – now would you get off my back?"
Dawkins stiffened at her sudden anger, clearly shocked and a little hurt. "Alright," He muttered, and he turned away from her. "I was just trying to look out for you – next time I won't bother."
Guilt immediately flooded over her. "No, I'm sorry," Tina called after him, standing from her seat. "Dawkins, don't go! Please? I'm sorry I snapped at you, I really am."
He hesitated before turning back to her; even with the eye-patch obscuring much of his face, she could tell he was deeply troubled. "Look, Tina, I know I'm not your husband or anything, but…but I do care about you a lot. Besides, I don't think Newt would be too happy if he knew you weren't eating properly. I know you said you're not hungry, and I can't force you to eat or anything, but it would make me feel a lot less worried."
She sighed, lowering her head – he knew she'd give in at the mention of her husband. "Fine. I'll eat something, if it'll make you happy – but please don't say a word to Newt. He's got enough to worry about as it is."
Dawkins nodded in understanding, his facial expression suddenly softer – he knew exactly what she'd been referring to. "Of course, Tina. I won't breathe a word."
As she settled back into her seat, willing her stomach to settle down, he hesitated by the door; for a moment he just stared at her, examining her with his one good eye, and seemed thoughtful.
"Tina," He said suddenly. "I'm not trying to be funny here, but…but are you sure you're not pregnant?"
Tina couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at him. "What makes you say that?"
"Well…the morning sickness for a start-"
"I got dizzy travelling on the Floo Network," She corrected, somewhat sharply. "I'm not pregnant, Dawkins, I can assure you of that."
Dawkins just waved a hand. "Alright, fine – I was just wondering since the last time you were this bad was just before you found out you were having Leo. That's all."
"I'm not pregnant," Tina reiterated firmly. "Like I said, I got nauseous Flooing over here, that's all."
"If you say so. I'll be back in a minute then – there's a coffee shop on the third floor, and that's bound to have something for you to eat."
As he left, straightening his coat, Tina couldn't help but stare miserably down at her desk; there was, of course, no way she was pregnant – the Healers at St. Mungo's had confirmed three years ago that she couldn't have any more, no matter how much she may have wanted to. While she had come to accept the fact that she'd never have any more children, more than happy with the three beautiful ones she and her husband had already, it was still somewhat a sensitive subject for her: the one thing she should have been able to do naturally…
Stop, she scolded herself sternly – she was not going to get sad over this, not now, not ever.
No, there wasn't any chance she was pregnant of course; it was simply Floo and stress-related nausea that was causing her to feel so awful. It would go away soon enough.
The nausea continued for a number of days – it had started waking her up before Fuzzy could in the morning, making her stumble out of bed for the loo so that she could empty the bile from her stomach.
Probably just something going around, Tina would think to herself as she brushed her teeth afterwards: I'm not pregnant, no matter what Dawkins thinks.
She could barely concentrate at work either; the words on her papers seemed to swim off the page, a sick sensation of vertigo washing over her. She was barely managing the physical training of the recruits either, leaving the room a few times while Dawkins took over so that she could vomit – he always looked worried when she re-entered, as if concerned she might collapse.
On the fourth day of this occurring, he placed a bottle down on her desk.
"What's this?" Tina asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Pregnancy potion," Dawkins replied conversationally, as if discussing the weather. "I asked the witch in the shop which brand would be best – said this one was the most accurate."
She flushed a deep red. "I'm not pregnant," She seethed, though she was avoiding his eye. "I'm absolutely fine!"
"Tina," He said, giving her a look. "I'm not trying to be nosey or anything, but…but you seem rather certain you're not pregnant, despite the fact the symptoms match up. Is there something you know that I don't?"
"No," Tina muttered quickly, picking up her quill and hurriedly returning to her paperwork. "Absolutely nothing at all. Look, Dawkins, I'm busy – we've got all this paperwork to fill out before noon, and I'd rather not have to explain this conversation to anyone as a reason for why it isn't done."
Dawkins gave a small sigh, taking his seat opposite her. "Sometimes I wish you weren't so bloody stubborn, you know. Fine, I won't meddle anymore – but keep the potion, just in case."
She huffed, looking between him and the bottle. "I don't need the potion."
"Just in case," He repeated chastely, and he disappeared behind a pile of folders before she could argue.
Mercy Lewis…one of these days, I'll kill him.
All the same, Tina took the bottle from the desk and tucked it into her workbag – if only to keep Dawkins happy.
The children were playing in the leaves outside that evening, chasing after Fuzzy as they laughed and giggled together; Newt found himself watching them play fondly from the hippogriff paddock, a grin on his face. It was more than easy to forget about wars and danger when he saw them playing, so happy and so innocent.
Ginger gave an indignant squawk, and he turned to look at her. "Yes, alright…" He made sure to bow first, waiting for the creature to sink down in return before reaching for his bucket and pulling out a large chunk of meat. "Here you go, girl – not too quickly."
As she tucked into her meal, rather satisfied, Newt found himself pondering – the letter he had received at breakfast that morning had troubled him greatly all day, leaving him to mull all kinds of things over in his mind.
They want me to let them use my hippogriffs for war, He thought anxiously, looking at the beasts; they were so magnificent, so stunning, and the very idea that the Ministry could possibly expect him to place them in the middle of a war was quite simply ridiculous. All of his hippogriffs were rescued, having previously been beaten or abused in some way – to put them in a war would be nothing short of cruel.
To add to his misery, he had been asked on more than one occasion to return to work on the Eastern front with more dragons; in one particularly scathing letter he had been accused of 'not putting the effort into helping us win the war', which he felt to be rather unfair. A few decades ago he would have jumped at the chance to work with dragons in Eastern Europe – and he had done just that.
Of course, a few decades ago, he hadn't had three children under the age of ten to help look after.
Newt couldn't leave the children, not now, for if Tina was called to fight then that would be it. He knew her as well as he knew himself: he knew that she would go because she would want to fight for the greater good, to fight was what was right in the world – and if she left to fight, then the children would need him more than ever.
He swallowed the lump in his throat that had formed suddenly; no, he wouldn't allow himself to think like that – it wouldn't do well to worry, after all, only serving to make him suffer twice.
Ginger had finished eating now, and she pushed her head into his shoulder; he couldn't help but smile at her, reaching a hand to softly stroke her ruffled feathers. He was the only one allowed to touch her; while she was tolerant of Tina, the only person she really completely trusted was Newt – he had been the one to rescue and look after her, spending hours soothing her injuries and settling her in.
"You like it here, don't you?" He mumbled to the hippogriff affectionately; Ginger gave a quiet squawk. "Yes, I thought so. Don't worry: I won't let them take you away, girl. I promise."
He wouldn't let anyone touch any of his creatures – the Ministry weren't taking a single one to use for the war, not so long as he lived.
As he exited the paddock, making sure the gate was closed and latched properly behind him, he found his gaze drifting to look at his children; they were still playing, throwing clumps of leaves at each other and running around quite happily. They were all so innocent, he reflected, so untouched by this war – and he wanted it to stay that way for as long as possible.
They're not taking me away either, Newt thought firmly to himself. The Ministry can do whatever they want during this war – but they're not taking me away from my children.
Five minutes were nearly up.
It had been a stupid idea to take the potion, absolutely stupid; why bother? It was going to be grey, it always had been…there was no chance, no chance at all…
Tina started to pace the length of the bathroom anxiously, gnawing on her lip; she could hear the sounds of her three children playing outside in the leaves, Linnet's voice high and clear as she called for 'Fuzzy' the Kneazle; she could also hear Newt's voice as he tended to the Hippogriff paddock while at the same time keeping an eye on the children.
This was a stupid idea, she scolded herself, I was just a bit dizzy and nauseous – absolutely nothing to get worried about.
Still, she had mixed the potion together with a small sample of her blood on a whim and was now waiting for five minutes to end so that she could see if it changed color – Tina knew it wouldn't deep down, and she suddenly felt foolish for taking the test in the first place. It would stay grey, like it had all the other times in the past.
I shouldn't have bothered, Tina thought, It's only going to be negative. I shouldn't have let Dawkins, of all people, plant the idea in my head.
Her watch gave a beep and she turned around, preparing to see the dull grey liquid swirling in the glass as it always had and always would.
The potion was a brilliant blue.
Alright guys, a part two will hopefully be up soon! Hope you're all enjoying thus far!