Here it is – the final chapter of "Protect Them"!
Set in September 1946.
Phoenix – 22nd June 1931 – 15 (5th Year at Hogwarts)
Linnet – 13th January 1933 – 13 (3rd Year at Hogwarts)
Leo – 3rd March 1935 – 11 (1st Year at Hogwarts)
Wren – 5th May 1941 – 5
(Kowalski children:)
Tobias "Toby" – 15th October 1929 – 16 (nearly 17) (6th Year at Hogwarts)
Daisy – 7th April 1931 – 15 and a half (5th Year at Hogwarts)
Abel and Ruth (twins) – 20th November 1933 – 12 (nearly 13) (2nd Year at Hogwarts)
Elijah "Eli" – 28th January 1939 – 7 (nearly 8)
Lucy – 8th September 1941 – 5
Penny – 17th January 1943 – 3 (nearly 4)
(A/N: Penny is a child that Jacob and Queenie adopted – she's got red hair and blue eyes, so that's a heads-up!)
It hadn't escaped Newt's notice that his youngest daughter was extremely bored; with Leo now starting his first year at Hogwarts, it left Wren the only child still in the house. She had looked miserable when they had waved the others off on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters on the first of the month, tightly clutching Tina's hand and voicing her wish to go to Hogwarts too; it would still be another six years until she was old enough, much to her disappointment.
At first, he had thought that perhaps allowing her to do more in the case would appease or at least distract her; for a short time she had looked cheered up by feeding the Mooncalves and Bowtruckles, but then a week passed and she returned to looking sullen. It was slightly off-putting, to the say the least, as she was usually so much brighter and alive.
Tina had seemed equally worried by their daughter's melancholy behaviour. "Queenie suggested getting her a pet, but I don't see how that will help…besides, there are enough creatures in this house as it is."
"She's not even enjoying being around the creatures anymore," Newt sighed, shaking his head. "She really misses Leo…before, she could play with him, but now…"
There was a wet and rainy day a week later; while Tina had braved the storm to go to work, Newt had resigned himself to his case with Wren to check on his creatures. His daughter watched sadly as he tended to each of them, feeding them and making sure that they were content; she didn't move when he gestured for her to come and help him, and so he ended up dropping the idea with sinking shoulders.
By the time all of the creatures were dealt with, it was lunchtime; Newt helped the five-year-old out of the case, making sure she didn't slip on the steps, and then set about making some food for the two of them. Wren ate silently, keeping her eyes focused on her plate; it was slightly unnerving, if he was honest, for usually she was so bubbly and talkative.
She raised her eyes to meet his own, chewing slowly. "Don't feel like talking…and what does 'un-nerving' mean?"
"Nothing," Newt said quickly, forcing himself to smile. "I just miss your talking, that's all."
She watched out the window of the front as he cleaned up, chin on her hand as she studied the rain drops rolling down the window; she didn't look his way when he entered the room or when he sat next to her on the sofa where she was kneeling.
"I like rain," She announced thoughtfully. "It sounds pretty…but I don't like it because it means that I can't go and play. Is that strange, Daddy?"
"No, I don't think so," He assured her. "Well, I've done my jobs for the day – I shouldn't need to feed the creatures until this evening now. Perhaps…Is there anything that you'd like to do?"
Wren shrugged. "Not really. I just want to play."
Thankfully, Queenie decided to visit that day; she and the children were kept dry with a spell, and she beamed at him when she entered the house.
"Awful day, isn't it?" She stated before pausing. "Is now a bad time?"
"Actually now is the perfect time," He answered honestly. "I think Wren needs a playmate."
"Missing her brothers and sister," Queenie agreed, nodding in understanding. "Yeah, it's no fun…Eli's been all sad 'cause he wants to go too; the girls ain't as bad, but Eli knows and it's getting him down."
It didn't take long for Wren's spirits to lift when she and Eli started playing together; soon they were both laughing and giggling as they chased each other around the house, clearly happy. Lucy and Penny trailed behind, not quite able to keep up but having fun all the same. In the meantime, Newt made Queenie some coffee (she still thought that British coffee was worse, but she accepted it anyway) and himself a much-needed cup of tea before they sat down in the kitchen.
"I can't believe Teen's gone in today," The blonde muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. "She'll be stuck on deskwork – there ain't no way they're doing raids in this weather."
"I know, but she insisted," Newt said rather fondly; he wouldn't have expected anything less from his wife. "How have things been with you?"
Queenie smiled. "We're doing just fine; Jacob always misses the kids when they go back to school, misses having them visit the bakery…he's gonna make some pastries to send up to the school soon, so that the kids don't get too homesick… Not that Toby's really a kid anymore." Here she frowned, somewhat sadly. "He's gonna be seventeen in October, you know."
"He has grown rather fast," He agreed, and he found himself thinking of his own children. "Phoenix is fifteen now; sometimes I forget how old he really is, and I'm surprised when he comes home for the holidays so tall…and Linnet isn't a little girl anymore either."
"I'm gonna be crying for weeks when Eli and Lucy both go off to school," His sister-in-law remarked, and he didn't doubt it. "I'm gonna miss having kids in the house. Me and Jacob, we keep thinking about adopting again…it would give Penny a brother or sister to grow up with, you know? A brother or sister who's a No-Maj like her…and yes, I know you Brits call them muggles," She added, rolling her eyes at his thoughts. "But No-Maj is a better term."
Newt merely shook his head with a small grin, deciding it was best not to comment on cultural differences as he lifted his mug.
By the time four o'clock had rolled around, both Lucy and Penny were absolutely shattered; the younger of the girls had fallen asleep on Queenie's lap in the kitchen, and her older sister didn't look far behind as she rubbed her eyes.
"I should probably get them home," Queenie mused fondly, running a hand through Penny's red curls; her daughter stirred but didn't wake. "I wonder where Eli got off to."
"Here, I'll go and fetch him," Newt told her, standing up; she looked rather weighed down with two small girls leaning on her, unable to stand up just yet.
She smiled gratefully. "Thank you, honey."
As it soon transpired, Eli and Wren were still playing together in the front room – and they'd made quite the mess of the furniture and cushions, much to his dismay: Tina was going to kill him if she knew he'd let the children destroy the front room.
"Alright, I think that's enough fun for today," He announced hurriedly. "Eli, I think your moth-"
"DADDY!" Wren was calling to him, beaming and giggling. "Catch me, Daddy! Catch me!"
Newt looked over at her – and his heart froze in his chest; she was standing on a chair, her short dark hair ruffled and sticking out in all directions. Suddenly he found himself thinking of an eerily similar image: it wasn't Wren standing on a chair, but Tina, and he was no longer in the front room – he was in that bland white death cell, deep under the heart of MACUSA…and she was crying, terrified, thinking she was about to die…he had to catch her, and if he didn't then it would be his fault-
"Daddy?" Wren was no longer smiling, looking confused. Eli had now stopped playing too, looking over with wide eyes. "What's wrong? Why are you thinking about Mummy crying?"
"I'll catch you," He had told her, though he had been just as scared as she had. "I've got you, Tina." And he had caught her, he forced himself to remember; he had caught her and held her close, and she was still very much alive…Tina was fine, she was absolutely fine, he didn't need to panic…
Another image assaulted his mind quite suddenly: it was Wren standing on the chair in the Death Cells of MACUSA now, her face tear-stained and terrified as she pleaded for him to help her. The black potion was rising up around her, forming jaws ready to clamp down around her and burn her…she was screaming, he was supposed to protect her, she had trusted him…she was wailing and sobbing as the potion burnt her-
Wren clambered down from the chair and ran to him, tears in her eyes. "Daddy, stop! What's wrong, Daddy?"
"I'll get my Ma," Eli decided, hurriedly leaving the room. "She'll know what to do."
"You're scaring me, Daddy," His daughter whimpered, clutching his arm; he hadn't even realized he was shaking. "What's that black stuff? Why are you thinking about it?"
"I'm fine," Newt gasped, though he felt like he couldn't breathe. "I'm fine."
Wren frowned. "No, you're not. You're thinking about Mummy and you're thinking about me, and I don't like what you're thinking; why was she on that chair?"
"She…" He could feel his chest start to tighten, and he cursed himself for losing composure over something so small; she'd just been standing on a chair, for Merlin's sake, just playing and he'd lost his mind over it.
Tina's fine…She's fine, I caught her. Wren is fine, she's right here. Stop it.
Queenie entered the room them, looking extremely worried as she walked towards him. "Newt, honey, it's okay," He heard her say calmingly, her soft hands cupping his face. "It's okay."
"What's wrong with him, Auntie Queenie?" Wren asked, taking a few steps back; she looked terrified.
"Your Pa's okay," Queenie soothed her, though her eyes didn't leave Newt. "He just needs a minute."
"I'm fine," He managed, pulling away from her as he finally – finally – found the strength to move. "I'm fine, really."
The blonde sent him a look. "You ain't fine…sit down a minute, alright? I'll get you some tea."
"But…But you said-"
"I can stay until Teen comes home," Queenie said firmly, and it was obvious that she wasn't going to budge on the matter. "It ain't gonna be much longer 'til she gets home anyway – come on, sit down."
Newt grudgingly let her force him down on the sofa, his hands twitching; Wren sat down, keeping a distance between them, and watched him with wary eyes. He knew that he had scared her, and he found himself feeling awash with guilt because of it; she was only five, and he had subjected her to those thoughts – he still had nightmares about that day, Tina did too, and the last thing he wanted would be for their daughter to have them too now because of him.
After a moment, Wren hesitantly moved closer to him; she took his hand slowly and gave it a squeeze in her own tiny one. "I'm okay, Daddy," She murmured quietly. "And Mummy's okay too."
"Yes, I know," He muttered, and he found himself inexplicably glad that she had taken his hand. "I know."
Tina arrived home shortly after five, looking rather tired and somewhat damp from the weather outside; she was surprised when Queenie was the first one to greet her, eyes soft and face concerned. She quietly told her sister a rather basic outline of what had transpired that afternoon before adding that it would be best if she spoke to Newt – he would probably benefit more from talking to her, after all.
"Wren can come over for dinner at our place tonight," Queenie said tactfully, giving her sister a knowing look. "Give you and Newt some time to…to sort things out. I'll talk to her, don't worry."
Wren had seemed rather puzzled as to why she was suddenly having dinner with the Kowalskis but didn't argue; in fact, she seemed rather pleased to be going to their house – especially when her aunt mentioned that there'd be strudel for dessert. She waved goodbye to her parents happily as she left with Queenie and the other children, her voice clear and excitable as she chattered down the path.
Once she had gone, Tina placed a hand on her husband's arm and took a deep breath; she smile she had put on had faded. "Newt…"
"Can we talk about this in the case?" Newt asked quickly, not meeting her eye. "I'd feel far more comfortable if we talked about it down there."
It was a reasonable request – and she had expected nothing less really. "Yes, of course."
The artificial light in the case was already starting to set, perhaps reflecting the autumn outside in the real world, and the two made to sit down to watch it on the grass near the Occamy nest. Surrounded by the chirping and grazing of their creatures, Newt relaxed visibly and looked down at the floor in thought; she didn't push him, waiting instead for him to feel ready to speak.
Finally, after a good few minutes, he inhaled deeply. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me today."
"Don't be sorry," Tina muttered, and her hand was on his arm again. "It's alright – just talk to me about it."
He swallowed, shoulders drooping with defeat. "They were playing…Wren and Eli…Queenie, she wanted to get home so I said that I'd get Eli for her…I walked in and she was on a chair, just standing there and giggling – she saw me and asked me to…to catch her." He closed his eyes. "She looks so much like you, Tina, that for a moment I forgot where I was…for a moment I was in that Death Cell with that death potion, and you were there panicking – you were about to die, and you needed me to catch you."
"And you did catch me," She reminded him softly. "You caught me and I've never forgotten it."
"But what if I hadn't?" Newt questioned, looking terrified by the prospect. "I used to have such awful dreams…what if Pickett hadn't been in my pocket? Or if I hadn't had the Swooping Evil in my sleeve?" He sighed heavily. "I know, it's silly to dwell on the past… But there was a moment, Tina, where I looked at Wren and saw you instead – and then it was her. She was the one standing on the chair, and she was petrified…she was screaming for help…"
"That won't be her," His wife said firmly, though her face was nothing but understanding. "She'll never be in that Death Cell, never."
He looked away, down at his hands. "I know, I know, I'm being rather silly…but sometimes I wonder, Tina, if perhaps…perhaps I can't protect her. She expects me to protect her, expects me to know what to do if things go wrong – I'm her father – but what if I can't?"
Tina was silent for a moment, considering his words; when she spoke, her voice was quiet. "We won't be able to protect them forever; children get hurt sometimes, and there's nothing we can do about it." She paused, shoulders drooping somewhat. "You're not the only one who worries about her, Newt. She's so much like Queenie – she has her spirit, and she's so bubbly and bright… I know that she looks nothing like her, but sometimes I look at Wren and remember Queenie. I remember how I did my best to look after her, did my best to make sure that she was protected and safe…the world isn't kind to orphans."
Newt was stunned by this admission, but his mind was starting to understand just what she was talking about: somehow, they had managed to start and raise a family through two wars, wizarding and muggle, manging further to keep their family intact. However, there had always been the threat looming of what might happen to the children should anything happen to himself or Tina – neither of their occupations were risk-free by any stretch of the imagination, and the thought made a chill run down his spine.
"I used to look at her when she was a baby," His wife continued carefully. "I used to look at her and wonder what would happen to her – to all of them – if either or both of us were hurt…or worse."
"They'd have Queenie and Jacob," He stated without hesitating – he was certain that this would be the case. "You and I both know that they'd make room for the children if need be, even with their own brood to concern themselves with."
They both knew that this was the truth; Jacob and Queenie would never allow their nephews and nieces to suffer, would never let them starve or freeze – they would take in the Scamander children within a heartbeat, if the need did occur. It offered some slight comfort – not a great deal, but some.
After a few minutes of sitting side-by-side silently, Tina's hand sought his own; Newt linked their fingers together, pressing their palms close. "We can't protect them from everything," He heard her tell him softly. "But I can promise you right now, Newt, that she won't ever be in that awful Death Cell."
"No," He admitted, feeling more foolish than ever now. "I know…it's not even here, it's in America. I'm sorry."
"Don't be," She muttered, and she was resting her head on his shoulder. "We've both got our fair share of scars…not all of them are physical, but they're still there." She inhaled deeply, eyes gazing at the Fwooper nearby as it shook out its wings and shrieked. "We can't pretend that dreadful things won't happen…the world can be a terrible place. But we can make sure she knows she's not alone in it – that none of them are alone; they've got us, and Jacob and Queenie, and each other to help them."
Newt released the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding as he leaned into her. "Of course. Absolutely." He hesitated for a few seconds, debating whether he needed to say it. "Thank you, Tina… If ever there's been someone to put some sense into me, it's you."
"It goes both ways," Tina murmured, squeezing his hand. "They'll be okay: all four of them will. There's no point in worrying – as you'd say, it only means you suffer twice."
He couldn't help the weak half-smile that turned his lips upwards; even now, he found himself thinking about how he really had gotten so incredibly, unbelievably lucky in marrying her.
It was just before midnight when the half-shut door slowly creaked to open all of the way; both Newt and Tina, sitting in the dim light of a lamp, both turned their gazes to see who or what had caused the door to open. To their surprise, Wren was standing in the doorway, looking rather unsure and cautious.
"You're supposed to be in bed," Tina muttered, though she wasn't angry; their daughter had been exhausted upon returning from Jacob and Queenie's that evening, and she had immediately gone straight to bed.
"I know," Wren said quietly, tugging at the tie on her dressing gown – pink and a birthday gift from Queenie – as she lowered her head. "I…I couldn't sleep. I could hear you talking…hear you thinking, and I wanted to ask you – both of you – about something, but…but I didn't want to upset you."
Newt frowned thoughtfully. "I don't think you'd upset us in any way… Come on, come and sit with us, and we'll see if we can answer whatever's on your mind."
Their daughter clambered up onto the bed to sit between them; she was silent for a short time, avoiding their gazes as she tried to decide on how best to voice her feelings. She knew that they wouldn't be angry, but all the same…
"This afternoon," She started uncertainly, struggling to find the words to express how she was feeling. "You were thinking about some stuff, Daddy; about Mummy, and this chair, and this black stuff."
Newt was silent for a moment, shoulders sinking ever so slightly. "Yes, I was thinking about that. I'm sorry that you had to see something like that."
"It was scary," She muttered quietly. "You were scared, Daddy, when you thought about Mummy…I didn't like it." She paused, now looking to her mother worriedly. "You were crying, Mummy…you were going to be hurt. You…You were in trouble…the black stuff…"
She was starting to look rather distraught now, both by the conversation and by the thoughts she was talking about; Tina found herself wrapping an arm around Wren's shoulders, holding her tight to herself. This conversation was bringing up frightening memories, but she knew she had to keep them away from her daughter – the last thing they needed was to upset her more. "Wren…"
"It was real, wasn't it?" The five-year-old asked tearfully, though she already knew it was true. "It wasn't a…a bad dream like the one I had about the monsters…it really happened."
There was no point in lying: their daughter would know immediately. "Yes, that's true," Newt admitted. "It did happen, I'm afraid."
"You nearly died, Mummy," Wren sniffled, absolutely horrified as her fingers started to cling to her mother's pyjama shirt. "You really nearly died!"
"Yes – but I didn't die," Tina reassured her hurriedly, giving her a tight squeeze. "I'm right here, remember? I'm still very much alive because your Daddy saved me; he caught me when I jumped, and I'm alive."
"And it was a very long time ago," Newt added, placing a hand on their daughter's back; she raised her eyes to look at him. "It was before your mother and I even got married – long before you children were born, at any rate."
For a moment their daughter just frowned, clearly still very unsure. "If it's okay now, then why are you still thinking about it? It was years ago, so…so why did you think about it?"
"Well…" The Magizoologist hesitated: how to describe the idea of trauma to a five-year-old? "The thing is that sometimes, when awful things happen, it can be rather difficult to forget…they can stay in your mind for a very long time because they're so strong."
Wren was still looking somewhat confused, and so Tina cleared her throat to speak. "It's like… You know how we went swimming at the beach last Summer?" Their daughter nodded. "And do you remember how you asked about the marks on me and Daddy?"
"They're scars," She recalled.
"Yeah, exactly. Well…it's kinda like that," Tina explained carefully. "Do you remember that we told you that they didn't hurt anymore? They've healed, but they've left marks – scars – that can sometimes bother us."
"Uh-huh," Wren agreed, her eyebrows furrowing a tad. "So…do you have scars from that black stuff too?"
Her mother hesitated. "Not exactly. Sometimes things that hurt us don't leave actual scars, not ones that you can see – sometimes bad stuff, like memories or events, can still leave something behind that hurts, even if you can't see it. Does that make sense?"
"I think so," The five-year-old said slowly. "It hurts but not on the outside – it's on the inside…like when you're angry or upset or scared?"
"Yes, exactly," Newt acknowledged. "That's why some memories are more painful than others – in fact, I'm sure you could say that certain memories are just like scars." He paused before continuing, and when he spoke again he was quieter. "However, it doesn't mean that they ruin things forever – not at all. You learn to accept it and it becomes less painful, and when it does then you go on with life."
Wren started to nod, mind working hard to keep up – even being able to read his mind, she was struggling somewhat. "I think I understand. It was a scary thing that happened, so it's something that hurts…but it hurt less after a while, and now you and Mummy are happy?"
"We're very happy," Tina assured her, and she was smiling softly. "As much as all of the bad experiences hurt, it's nothing compared to the good things."
The little girl suddenly started to beam as she caught a glimpse of the memories her mother was referring to. "You and Daddy getting married, and…and us being born! Those are nice!"
"Those are all wonderful things," Newt agreed fondly, and he knew that she was looking through his thoughts too. "We wouldn't trade those for anything in the world…you see, I think you'll find, Wren, that the good in this world really does outweigh the bad."
It was clear that she was relieved; sifting through her father's thoughts, she could see that he was telling the truth. Knowing – not just hoping, but knowing – that the happy memories of family and love were far greater and stronger than any misfortune they had faced made her feel calmer. She found herself relaxing between them, finally feeling comforted.
With all of this in mind, Wren gave a small yawn and started to blink tiredly. "I don't wanna go back to bed," She confessed, somewhat sheepishly. "Can I…just for one night…stay with you?"
Her parents only had to share a look – the answer was immediately obvious.
"Alright," Tina acquiesced, shuffling to make some room between herself and her husband. "Just for tonight."
Once the lights were dimmed and all three of them were settled underneath the duvet comfortably, two small hands reached out, one for her mother's own hand and one for her father's. There was a silence in the air as she registered their ease, their love and affection for her, and she found herself feeling completely content as she closed her eyes.
It took just a few minutes before she had drifted off into a peaceful sleep; in the dark, Tina was sending her husband a rather tired smile. "See? She'll be fine - she's got us, no matter what happens."
Newt couldn't help but grin back at her before looking down at their daughter, nestled between them; she was curled towards him, her small fist barely touching his chest. "Yes…and we've got each other too."
Urgh, sorry for the delay but my depression and stuff got a bit severe and shit happened so… :/ I was hoping to finish it sooner so that I could start a new fic but it looks like I won't be posting anything until next week now because on Saturday night I'm going to take my dad to see Covenant, and then all-day Sunday I'm at Comic-Con.
But, yeah, I hope that you all enjoyed this or, you know, enjoyed it somewhat at least! Feedback, as always, is love!
