Hey there !
Due to popular demand, I have decided to turn this one shot into a three chapter long fanfiction, so here is chapter 2 which I hope you will like.
I actually am almost done with the last chapter, which will be released two weeks from now, or maybe in a week, if I feel it's ready !
Quick reminder : I was not corrected on this story, and I am still French, so English is not my native language. I do make mistakes, even though I try not to. I truly hope you won't mind.
Have tons of fun reading you guys !
It had been weeks since Newt Scamander had last visited New York. Weeks since he had his heart shattered to pieces. He had returned just as he had left, preoccupied and unable to forget her face, her smile. Unable to sleep because her voice haunted his dreams. He kept thinking about her every single day : she never left his mind. Not really at least. She was a ghost in his mind, so far yet, so close.
No one had suspected anything, fortunately, since he had only left the country for a few hours. Not even Theseus had noticed his absence, nor the sadness he had taken home with himself. Hopefully, the ministry was no longer spying on him : they would have thrown him to Azkaban for leaving without his wand permit or proper travel authorisation. And since his travel band hadn't been lifted since… He could have gotten into a lot of trouble, all of that for nothing.
Well… Not exactly for nothing, since it had all been for Tina.
Tina who obviously was with another man.
The thought of it alone made his heart ache and burst. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the beating of his broken heart. He kept on seeing her, laughing with him, whoever he was. A part of him was happy for her : she deserved to have a life full of joy and love. He just wished he could be the one to give her that. He just wanted to make her as happy as she did. But he had been too late. Again.
It hurt. It hurt so much he sometimes couldn't help the tears from forming in his deep green eyes, wiping them with annoyance. He never asked for any of this to happen : after Leta, and his unreturned love, he had promised himself he would never fall for another woman that way. But Tina crept into her heart quietly, and before he realised it, it was too late. Always too late. She had invited his thoughts and mind, had stolen his heart away from him. He was already in love with her.
He should have kissed her, that day, on the docks. He can still see her face, the sun on her beautiful, bright features. Her dark eyes filled with tears. He can still feel her burning cheeks he touched so lightly. He should have kissed her sadness away, and he had wanted to. Bugger, he had wanted to. He wasn't sure at the time that his tenderness would be well-received, Tina being so hard to read. He should have kissed her. He should have had been clear about his feelings towards her. Maybe if he had, everything would have been different. He smiled bitterly, lowering his head in defeat. He had had no news from her ever since. Had she found his book on that chair ? He didn't know. And it was killing him.
Newt sighed, staring at his reflexion in the mirror. Dark circles were spreading under his eyes : he did not look well. Despite his visible tiredness, his publisher had insisted he'd go dedicate his books in Flourish and Blotts. He had complied, not by choice but by obligation : his book was a tremendous success in Library and people wanted to meet him. How did that happen ? He thought. He had never been liked, perceived as different and strange. Yet, there was a crowd outside, waiting for him. He could hear their chatter, their excitation. Maybe it was for the better. Maybe meeting all of these people, these people that seemed interested in what he did, what he studied would tear his mind from the woman that occupied it. Maybe. With a shaky hand, he adjusted his bowtie and his messy hair. He couldn't help but wonder what Tina would think of him right now. He tried to smile but failed. It would have to do. It was just for a few hours. Then he could go home and be at peace at last. He didn't have much choice anyway.
And so, the Magizoologist stepped on the crowded library, welcomed by loud applauses that only made him embarrassed. Newt was not used to being the center of attention, and didn't like it very much. All these eyes, staring at him with awe made him want to flee. He sat, trying to forget his fears and began to fill pages and pages of names and notes. To Sarah, To Joe, To Molly, To Eugene… He barely looked at any of them in the eyes, and kept the conversation to small talks. "Hello, thank you for coming." "I am really glad you enjoyed my work." "Have a nice day."
His admirers seemed pleased nevertheless. He answered their question with great pleasure, though, always happy to educate his fellow wizards about his fantastic beasts. Many came to ask about nifflers and browtruckles, some wanted him to tell them about thunderbirds. Somehow, the young author wished they would have allowed him to bring his case with him, or at least his dear Pickett. No creatures allowed, the sign said on the door. Without the presence of his beasts, he was starting to feel a bit lonely and well, uneased. It was just for a few hours, he thought.
He signed so many copies he couldn't feel his hand at some point. The line for his autograph never ended, and from what he overheard, it was going way beyond the library. He kept on doing so for hours, until the line was empty and the bookstore deserted. The night was already upon London, the moon shone above Diagon Alley. It was a cold night. Checking his watch, he made sure that no one came in late, and decided to stay a while longer. His publisher would be happy. He didn't have anywhere else to go anyway. He had asked Bunty to take care of his creatures tonight, not sure of how long he would be needed. A heavy sigh escaped his lips. The clock ticked, and reached the number eight. It was more than time. He then took his coat, famished and weary, wrapping himself in his scarf. It always brought him such relief, like a shield of some kind. A protection against his own mind.
It didn't work anymore.
He was about to leave when suddenly he heard footstep behind his back. They stopped right in front of his table, filled with copies of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them.
"So sorry. The dedication has been over for quite some time now." He simply said, not even daring to look at the person behind him. He didn't even want to.
"Oh, I know, Mr. Scamander." The woman chuckled. "I already had my book signed anyway."
Newt Scamander froze, taken aback. It couldn't be — It was impossible right ? It was just his mind toying with him, like it had so many times before. But it couldn't be — couldn't be her. She would never do that. She had her job. Her sister. She couldn't be here, with him, now. Why would she, when she had everything at home ? Yet, he knew that voice, and he would recognise it in a million. Her accent… The way she pronounced his name. How could he forget that ? He would never forget that. He knew that voice because it made his heart clench in agony, and made his eyes water against his will.
Slowly, he turned around, not quite daring to look right at the woman in front of him, trying to escape this fantasy. He gazed down instead, and noticed her narrow feet stamping on the ground impatiently. His eyes travelled on her body, wrapped in a warm long black coat to finally set on her face. And then he was lost. Lost in the darkness of her eyes, finding a familiar light in this black agitated water. He breathed, his hands were shaking so much he had to lean on the table to hide his weakness. The author opened his mouth quite a few times without being able to say a word. He just stared at her like she was an apparition, scared to look away, grasping at this sight for his dear life as if she could disappear any seconds. They faced each others, not saying a word, not moving and it was as if the time stood still. It was just the two of them. Newt and his dear Tina. Tina whose entire face lightened, whose lips cracked into the warmest smile, whose eyes watered.
This couldn't be true. And yet it was. She was here, in this bookstore in London. How ? Why ? His mind was about to blow, his heart ready to explode in his chest. She was dazzling with beauty, wearing a simple, yet elegant white shirt with her usual black trousers and boots. Her hair, as he remembered surrounded her face, carefully curled near her cheeks, dark and neat.
She took another step towards his table, clutching forcefully against her chest, her very own copy of his book he had tried to deliver in person. She was so close he could smell her perfume and the fragrance of warm coffee that always seemed to surround her.
"I apologise for coming unannounced…" She began, her voice soft and sweet, her cheeks reddened as she tried to catch his glance.
Her eyes set on her shoes, she was visibly embarrassed. She was shifting, obviously unsure of what to do now that she was actually in London, England. Who would have thought she would one day set foot on the other side of the pond ? Tina had never left New York before : It all seemed surreal. She was here, he was there as well. They were finally reunited.
It had all been Queenie's idea. Queenie, who had found her that night, staring at the words Newt had written, tears in her eyes. She had read her thoughts unwillingly, finding her sister hurting so loud in her ears. She had sat by her bed, listened to her ramble in front of a steaming cup of cocoa. It was the Goldstein tradition : whenever one of them felt saddened or worried, they would share their childhood's favorite beverage. It made the worse situations seem a little brighter. They had had a rather important talk and the older sister had finally admitted out loud, her growing feelings for a certain magizoologist. It had been a turbulent confession, filled with tears and laughter. Excited about her sister's new found love, the legitimens had taken upon herself to organise a little trip to England. Madam Picquery had agreed with great difficulty to give her some days off and had allowed her the access to a portkey, to Queenie's insistence. She needed a break from all of this. She needed to see him. Tina had learnt about this little travel only few days before the departure, unsettled. She hadn't been ready to leave and had weighed the pros and cons for many nights.
You still have a chance, Teenie. I don't. Please. Don't ruin this. Go to him.
Queenie's words, the regrets of not seeing Newt had won over her desire to continue working on her MACUSA cases so she had packed some clothes and had left, thanking her sister.
So here she was, alone in London, scared and away from home. Here she was, chasing after the man who had changed her, and everything in her little world. The man she had been thinking about for a year now. Days and nights.
Said man, who was right in front of her, seemed so confused. His brows were furrowed, his right hand rubbing his neck in bewilderment. Newt Scamander didn't move closer or away, but his eyes were filled with surprise, joy and pain at once.
"Tina… wh—what are you— why—how— ? " He tried, unable to look straight at her. Instead, he turned his focus towards his hands, resting on the table.
She smiled, endeared, and stepped closer. She could have reached for his hands if she had wanted to. The temptation was strong. It would have been so easy, almost natural to lay her hand on top of his, enjoy the closeness of their skins. She wanted to. She couldn't. She was in love. Was he ? She could admire every single freckles on his radiant face, and could have counted them. Tina figured her favorites were the one that surrounded his beautiful green eyes that switched colours depending on the weather. She quite liked the ones near his lips, but didn't stare at them took long, fearing to be inappropriate.
She was so close to him she could almost hear his heart bumping against his chest. It felt like New York again. New York, when he had rescued her from the chair, had held her close, so close she had felt his muscle underneath his long coat, felt the warmth of his hands against her back. It felt like the old time, maybe. But It surely felt like home.
"Newt… I read your book." She said after a while, unsure of how to begin this conversation, and more importantly, how to get it to where she wanted.
As an auror, the brunette was accustomed to leading various interrogations : she had to find a way to slowly get her suspect to tell her what she wanted to hear. Actually, Madam Picquery had congratulated her multiple times for her amazing skills that allowed many people to be saved. She had interrogated Grindelwald for Mercy's sake !
But Newt Scamander was no suspect. This was not an interrogation room. Here, she was not an Auror. They were Newt and Tina, in a bookstore, meeting at last, after almost a year of thinking of each others daily without daring to tell the other.
"I couldn't put it down." She continued, genuine. The magizoologist suddenly focused back on her, obviously surprised by her confession. "I was amazed. It's like you have opened a whole new world to me, a world I didn't even know existed…" And it was true. It was all true. She had had to read it multiple times because she could not get enough of his stories and facts. "I could almost hear you through your writing." She chuckled lightly. "It reminded me of…" She didn't continue, but she knew he understood what she meant.
It reminded me of everything we shared.
Those days in New York.
Your hand on my cheek.
Your arms around my body.
Your eyes drowning in mine.
Our hearts beating in symphony.
How could I forget that ?
How could I forget that you saved me.
Mostly from myself.
I can never forget that.
I can never forget you.
Tina smiled, weakly, thankful that Newt was no legilimens. He would have considered her thoughts inappropriate, and would have ran away from her. Sometimes, though, she found herself thinking that maybe, if he could hear her thoughts, everything between them would be easier. He would know exactly how she felt. Even if he didn't reciprocate. At least, it would be crystal clear. No misunderstandings. No hesitance. Just pure, undying love.
"I don't know how to thank you for that…" She whispered."and for the dedication. Newt… Thank you"
The brunette had read it over and over, inking those heartfelt words into her mind, holding on to them, hoping that perhaps, they meant something more. It was these words that made her cross the ocean. He said he had missed her. Complimented her eyes. There was so much inside of those plain scribbles… Her heart fluttered just thinking about them. He had said he carried a picture of her. And memories from their last conversation came rushing back. Does Leta Lestrange like to read ? — Who ? The girl whose picture you carry.
"I meant every— everything — every words I said." He quickly said, interrupting her thoughts. "I meant them, Tina." He smiled, warmth spreading on his face.
"Then why did you leave ? Why would you leave ?" She inquired, her eyes filled with utter sadness and hurt.
His smile was gone. His eyes dropped on the ground. He let out a deep sight. Newt's face had shut down completely. He knew she would bring his last visit into the conversation, but had hoped it wouldn't happen straight away. She looked at him expectantly and a part of him wanted to explain what had gone through his head the minute he saw her with another man. He wanted to tell her, but couldn't even say the words without feeling his heart breaking in pieces. It ached. It burnt.
It was love.
"Would you — would you consider to — maybe, if you wanted of course — would you consider having dinner with me tonight ?" He suddenly blurted out, looking around him at the very empty library they were still in. "It would be — you know, a bit more — intimate to — talk. Of course, If you have other plans — "
She smiled again. He died a little on the inside.
"I'd like that. Very much"
Hope you enjoyed this chapter ! Don't forget to tell me what you thought of it, and see you in two weeks or less for the final chapter :)