"Are you sure about this?"

You stopped digging in your closet long enough to see your roommate standing in your doorway, arms folded, frowning. "Have you seen my hiking boots?" You asked her, turning back to the pile of clothes you were digging through. She wrinkled her nose.

"How do you ever find anything in this mess?" She asked, kneeling next to you and helping you sort through the closet.

"It's controlled chaos," you smiled. She shook her head, picking up a green tank top.

"Wait a minute… is this mine?" You snatched it from her hand.

"No," you said quickly, throwing it into your suitcase. Looking up, you spotted your boots on the highest shelf. "Aha!" You went to stand, inhaling sharply as a pain shot up your knee.

"Autumn…"

"I'm fine, Gita," you said, forcing a smile. "Accio," you held out your hand as your boots flew into them. Gita gazed up at you from the floor.

"Are you sure about this?" She asked again. You sighed.

"Of course I'm sure…" You tossed the boots into your suitcase, sitting on the bed. "I can't stay cooped up in the Ministry anymore. You know I can do more."

"I know that,' Gita said, pulling your suitcase towards her and beginning to refold the clothes you had hastily thrown in it. "It's just… I've heard that Mr. Scamander is a little…" she paused, searching for the right word. "Eccentric?" You chuckled.

"Yeah, well… I seem to be drawn to those people, don't I?" You looked around your small room and smiled sadly. "I'll miss this place, though. And you." Gita raised a brow at you.

"Even though you constantly complain about my tidying up after you?" You shrugged, grinning.

"It keeps me honest. Let's hope Newt doesn't mind a messy travel companion." She scoffed at that.

"Aren't you afraid what people might think?"

You frowned. "What would people think?"

Gita rolled her eyes. "You're a single, 26 year old woman traveling with a single, 30 year old famous author. It doesn't seem appropriate." You groaned.

"Gita, come on. You know it's not like like that…"

"You said it yourself, Autumn. You're drawn to eccentric men."

"I think I've had enough of men for a while…" You trailed off, looking down. Gita winced.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" She bit her lip. "Has he… has he written you? At all?"

You shook your head. "I think that ship has sailed." You felt Gita lay her hand over yours.

"He's not worth it. He never deserved you."

"I know," you said, voice watery. Shaking your head, you returned to your closet. "On a more serious note," you began, your voice back to a brighter tone, "I need your help picking out which hats to bring." Gita laughed.

"Do you really think some wild beast will care about your hat?"

"You never know…" you mused. "Maybe some bird will make a nest in it."

"I feel sorry for Mr. Scamander," Gita said. "He doesn't know yet how strange a person you are…"

"The strangest," you agreed, tossing a shirt at her.

On Monday you made your way to Newt's office nervously. What if he had changed his mind? You thought, biting your lip. He didn't seem like the kind of person who would go back on his word, but, then again, you hadn't been the best at reading people lately. You felt a familiar pang in your chest as you thought back to your last relationship. Relationship, if you could even call it that.

You had met him in a bar, of course, and he had been all charm and compliments. He hadn't even asked you about your leg, which was refreshing. After buying you a couple drinks he asked to walk you home, and you had let him. The next few weeks were an absolute blur. You had fallen in love quickly, and he had assured you the feeling was mutual. Then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. He stopped visiting your office, he stopped sending letters. His replies to your owls were short. He said he was just busy at work, but the harder you tried to fight for him, the further he seemed to slip away. It had all come to a head when Gita had taken you for a night out to get your mind off him. You had just loosened up, allowing the alcohol to relax your muscles, when you saw him across the room. He was leaning down and whispering into some witch's ear, and you watched as she laughed and blushed prettily at what he said. She was beautiful, all legs and tights and heels and you felt the room spin as he leant down and placed a kiss to her shoulder. You had stood, knocking over your glass, and it shattered as it hit the floor. You spun around to the bartender, apologizing. Just as you were about to make your escape, you heard a voice behind you.

"Autumn?"

You spun around, plastering a fake smile on.

"Oh, hello Cyrus," you said, your voice a bit too bright. "It's been a while."

He smiled, not having the decency to feel any guilt. "Yes, sorry." The girl next to him held out her hand.

"Pleasure," she said, smiling at you. You had the sinking feeling she knew who you were.

"I, um… I have to go," you said weakly, grabbing your jacket and starting to leave.

"Oh, honey," the girl said. "You alright?" She was looking down at your leg.

"She's fine," Gita had said, standing and grabbing your arm, leading you out of the bar. You managed to make it home before dissolving into a crying mess.

Shaking your head, you cleared your mind. Now was not the time. You hesitated, knocking twice on Newt's door, thinking three knocks might be a little too desperate. There was no answer.

"Newt?" You called out, trying the doorknob. It was unlocked, and you let yourself in. His office was empty, save his jacket draped across the armchair, and an open suitcase lying in the middle of the floor. Wait a minute. You approached the case, looking down into it warily. "Newt?"

"Yes!" You heard his voice call back from within. "Yes, in here!"

You froze for a moment, finally shrugging and removing your jacket. "Ok," you called back, climbing down into the case.

Hopping off the ladder, you took a moment to take in the small workshop. It was absolutely littered with plants, books and vials. Tools of every sort hung from the walls. Books were piled in every corner and crammed on every shelf. It took a moment for you to even notice Newt in the room at all.

"Oh," you said, eyes resting on him finally. "Hello." His back was turned toward you, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He seemed to be searching for something rather frantically.

"Hello," he said, not turning to you. You walked to his side.

"Merlin's beard!" You gasped, seeing his hand. It was wrapped up a blood-covered cloth, but you could tell he had a large gash on his palm. "You're hurt!" Newt's eyes flicked to yours.

"Oh, yes" he said a bit too casually. "I said something a bit too critical to my Runespoor. I just… can't seem to stop the bleeding." His good hand was picking up vial after vial as he scanned the labels, tossing them to the side when they didn't meet his criteria.

"Let me see," you said, taking his hand. He jerked a little at the contact but you held his wrist.

"I know I have a potion here somewhere -"

"You're going to bleed out before you find it," you interrupted. You unwrapped his bandage gingerly, cringing at the wide cut. "Did you clean it, at least?" Newt colored a bit, which you took as a no. "Ok," you said, taking your wand out. "This probably won't hurt."

"P-probaby?" He asked.

"Mundio," you whispered, cleaning the wound. "Hold still," you told him. Newt closed his eyes. "Consarcio." You watched as his flesh slowly come together. Newt grimaced, and you rubbed your thumb over his wrist. "Sorry," you said, "That probably didn't feel great." Newt opened his eyes, examining his hand. You let go of him as he flexed his fingers.

"That was…" he said, looking at you fully for the first time since he met you. For a moment neither of you said a word. Newt smiled. "Thank you."

You grinned. "Just doing my job, Mr. Scamander." You looked around the room again, breaking his eye contact. "So… this is where the magic happens?" Newt chuckled.

"Yes, you could say that." He bent down and scooped up two large buckets filled with meat. "Come," he said, jerking his head towards the door of the shed. "I'll introduce you to everyone."