Newt paused on the bottom step of his suitcase, listening to the receding footsteps and low murmur of voices which he knew were overhead. Suddenly, his thin lips parted into an unguarded smile. It was a grin which accentuated the deep creases around his mouth, and crinkled around his eyes. Nobody had caressed his cheek like that in a long time, he reflected, the innocence of it pulling at something deep inside him. People rarely made him feel so dazzled, yet he often caught himself smiling in this way when he thought about Miss Goldstein. The sound of Tina's sweet chuckle and the loveliness of her earnest expression, elated him as though had drunk an entire goblet of euphoric elixir. With a last chuckle, he caught a glimpse of himself in the small, dirty mirror he kept by the entrance. She didn't even do a good job of it, not that I'm complaining, he thought fondly, as he rubbed at his still discoloured cheek.
The heavy blue coat , along with his smartest tweed jacket was hanging from a hook as Newt lowered Pickett from his shoulder. "Come on Pickett, there you go." The Bowtruckle climbed onto a bonsai tree, where a handful of grey, curled woodlice were rolled onto the soil. Newt began to chop and prepare food for the others as excited shrieks came from the pot on his desk. It had once been a gift from his muggle grandmother, but he had found it made an exemplary perch. Pickett had soon found the fattest woodlouse and was prying it open with his little twig like fingers. Many of his letters to Tina had been stained with dirt because the Bowtruckle was enthusiastic with his meals.
Dear Tina, I'd be most interested in visiting Lacewing's Emporium with you. The shop you described in your last letter sounds fascinating. Do they really have powdered Jackalope horn? I hear their horns have powerful conductive properties. A friend of mine, Olivander, told me that Americans favour them in their wands. I saw one in Wyoming a few years ago, but as she was nursing a family of kits, I was not able to study her for long. Muggles are rather afraid of them, yet I found her to be quite easily placated with a thimble of dilute firewhisky. Regarding visits overseas, I have booked my ticket to return to New York, and we shall be expected to arrive on the 12th of March. I can't wait to see you. My mother has been relentless in asking about my new pen-pal, and sincerely wishes she could send you one of her homemade treacle tarts. They're quite marvelous. Warmest Regards, Newt.
P.S. Do you know of any Muggle (Nomaj) lodgings? I wish to board as near as possible to you. I'm not confident that I can apparate very far within the city- who was it to name streets by number? A smidge uncreative, if you ask me.
The wizard had indeed been subjected to a rather embarrassing conversation some months ago, where he had revealed the existence of a Miss Porpentina Goldstein to his mother. Mrs Scamander knew her son well enough to keep this information from her husband and oldest son. Nevertheless, his cheeks still heated at her knowing look whenever his screech owl soared through the kitchen window. As promised, Tina had indeed accompanied him to a grandiose building earlier that day. The interior was as large as any wizarding high street he had seen, and twice as tall with busy vendors on both levels. She had given him time to explore all of the remedies and ingredients that Redwood Apothecary had to offer, and as he called, the 'completely-over-the-top' store displays at the bookshop. In the kitchen, Queenie smiled as her sister remembered how at the wizarding café, Newt had discretely hidden Pickett in his sleeve. The little Bowtruckle had taken advantage of his hidey place to pop the foam of his butterbeer as they discussed MACUSA and the Ministry.
"Wingardium leviosa." The freshly cut meat, mixed pellets and grubs floated alongside Newt as he entered his menagerie. With another graceful flick of his wand, the food drifted to the creatures one by one. He called softly to them as he counted, and recounted, the beasts. The smell of clay and wet leaves told the Magizoologist that the atmospheric charm was regulating the moisture well. The environment had changed subtly as spring flowers bloomed and brought new colour to the trees and grasslands. One new addition looked quite jarring against the overall wildness of the case, however, as though it were an afterthought.
"Good Evening, Dougal. I see you've taken to the Kneazles spectacularly. Excellent." Newt got to his knees. The Demiguise looked up with bright, intelligent eyes lit by the magical fireplace, where on a rug, stretched out a mother and two fat kittens. She was only distinguishable from a regular cat by the tuft of ginger fur on the end of a long, thin tail, and a general shagginess in her outline. Suzy the Kneazle purred with content as her newborns pawed at her belly for milk, green eyes blinking slowly as she watched Newt.
"Good girl. You're doing much better today, aren't you? " He slid a saucer of water to her and handed Dougal the dish of cat food. The Demiguise slowly started to feed the mother, bit by bit, taking some for himself occasionally. Newt couldn't wait to show Tina, she would surely love them, just as she had loved even the most eccentric of his beasts.
"You'll really like her, Suzy."
A gentle knocking overhead brought the man to his full height, and hands now empty, he retreated back into his study.
"If only I can restrain my thoughts, just a little..." he said quielty. "It would be a shame if I was not the one to tell her everything." Straightening his waistcoat, he ascended the steps back into the Goldstein residence.
(A/N: Thank you for the support, enjoy! I perhaps have something planned, please continue to review and favourite, so that I may continue. :) )