Newt whistled absently as he prepared the feed for the mooncalves. It was his eighth day going solo, and he was missing Tina immensely. If nothing else, he missed the human companionship he had grown accustomed to over the months of travelling with her. She had been requested at MACUSA for some ambassadorial work, and he had stayed behind in Borneo to research the acromantula.

Tina had actually been quite happy to sit this one out, it transpired that small spiders that she could trap in a jar were perfectly acceptable. Giant spiders with the capacity to talk sent her straight back into the suitcase. She had even threatened him with returning to America if he decided to bring one with him.

Newt wouldn't have taken an acromantula egg anyway. By his ministry classification, these giant spiders were most definitely a five. It had taken days of study to get a minimal amount of knowledge, as these spiders had a taste for hikers flesh. He hadn't been able to reason with them.

He had been forced to watch them very carefully, documenting what he needed about their physical appearance which ensuring he didn't get eaten. He wasn't sure Tina would like that very much. He was almost certain she would find a way to remove him from the acromantulas stomach, fear of spiders notwithstanding, just to kill him herself.

They had been in Borneo a matter of days before the request to return to MACUSA for the delegation from South America to arrive. Apparently, she was the only person they were willing to communicate with from the North American ministry, having had her working with them. They felt as if she could appreciate and understand their cultural differences in a way the other MACUSA wizards could not. Tina had huffed, Newt had been beaming with pride. She had bid farewell to their creatures, and promised to be back as soon as she could be.

That was eight days ago. The creatures had keenly noticed her absence after the third. Tina had been absent for a few days before, but when she didn't return within a week, they began to get anxious. Bennie had managed to wriggle under the door to Tina's room, but rather than cause havoc searching for gold, the little Niffler would be found attempting to drag an item of Tina's clothing under the door.

He had already recorded in his notebook that nifflers could apparently form extremely strong attachments to humans. But apparently, only specific humans. Bennie seemed to think it was Newt who had sent Tina away, because his room was upended when he returned from his sixth day watching the acromantula.

The mooncalves, when he went out to take their feed, continued to stand watching the shed, as if waiting for Tina to emerge, before they eventually turned and started jumping for their pellets. The youngest one, one Tina had helped birth, and named Petal just to annoy him, butted his hand, her big eyes looking up at him mournfully. Newt bent down to her level, rubbing the mooncalf at the base of the neck as they liked.

"I miss her too Petal," he murmured, "I miss her too."

The occamy were squabbling when he arrived at their nest, Dougal sat watching them with one of his silvery hands resting behind his head. He looked to Newt as he arrived, and indicated down to the chaos that was the nest.

"It's ok," Newt called out, "Daddy's here!"

The noise of their squabble rose in pitch. Across the pen, the Nundu was keening, the graphorns where galloping in angry circles, the augery was singing its low throbbing song, and the mooncalves were still jabbering over in their pen. Newt looked around, his creatures were acting out of character.

"I miss her too!" Newt called softly, turning back to the occamy. "Please be happy with me, mummy will be home soon."

At his words, the occamy began to separate, allowing him to reach in and gently sooth their feathers on the back of their heads. Dougal climbed down from his perch to climb onto Newt's back and hug him, trying to offer comfort. Newt smiled sadly, as Bennie crept out of his burrow and dove into his pocket. Pickett poked his head up from his waistcoat pocket and clambered up to his shoulder and an occamy fledging wound itself round his wrist.

"You know, you can't do this every time she has to go away," Newt said sternly, talking to himself as much as the animals. "I know you've gotten used to her. I have too. And I miss her, as much as you all do. We have to be able to deal with it just being us for a few days. She'll be back. She's only gone to deal with some highly important Auror work in America and we can't expect her to just stay with us always. And there may be occasions when Mummy has to look after you without me. And I hope you'll all behave for her when that happens. Ok?"

Newt wasn't sure if they were listening to him, or just pretending to. Bennie was an expert at pretending to listen to him and then doing whatever he wanted anyway. But right now, he was taking comfort from them as much as they were taking comfort from him. Pickett snuggled into his shoulder.

"I should check on the snidgets nest," he murmured to Dougal, who simply readjusted himself rather than climb back up to his perch about the occamy. He decided to leave Bennie in his pocket, but managed to convince the occamy fledgling back in with its brothers and sisters. He loped across the tent, checking on creatures as he went. It appeared his creatures had as many Tina-attachment issues as he did.

Despite spending every day for the past seven months with her, Newt hadn't quite realised how much of an impact having Tina there had on his creatures. And on himself. He knew he had been hugely affected by her accompanying him. It had been wonderful having her, but he hadn't thought he would find the loneliness of her absence as crippling as it was.

He was so used to having Tina there. It had been hard enough leaving that second year in New York. He kept finding himself talking to her when she wasn't there. But this? This was a new level he had never experienced before. He hoped Tina returned soon. And then he would have to get used to her having to go places without him. Their research was very different after all. He had spent a few days in the field before now, while Tina stayed in the area of the local ministry… but she had always been close by. Now she was on the other side of the world. And he missed her.

"You know, I don't like it when she leaves either," Newt conversed with Dougal quietly, "It's difficult. I've gotten so used to sharing the responsibility of all of you with her, I had forgotten how much there was to do. Do you think this will happen often?"

Dougal made a noise, whether of agreement or not. Newt fell silent, wishing for Tina to chime in, and tell him that he was being daft. But only the soft background noise of the suitcase replied. Newt was so wrapped up in his thoughts he walked past the snidgets nest, only recalling himself when Pickett began to chatter angrily.

"Yes, yes, I know," he sighed. "I have my head in the clouds. Looks like I have my own attachment issues, don't I Pickett."

Pickett nodded solemnly in agreement. Newt knelt gently next to the snidget nest, being careful to make no sudden movements. It had taken a long time to earn the nesting mothers trust, and even then, she trusted Tina more than him. The red eyes watched him warily, before her wings began to rotate and she rose off the white-gold eggs she was protecting.

Each egg, no bigger than a knut, shone as if polished. They were determined to bring the number of snidgets up, as they had done for the graphons. But as Newt had little experience with snidgets, they were having to play this hatching by ear. As it was, Newt (or, more commonly, Tina) would check on the eggs and check on the mother, (Gamora, Tina had decided) and record it in the little book Newt had strung up next to the nest.

He reached up, and recorded the same as he had done the day before Gamora still lacking complete trust in me that the other creatures had. Watched me carefully as I inspected the eggs. Eggs warmed than yesterday – steady rise in temperature since Monday. Predict hatching within a week. Hope Tina is back by then.

Then, he pushed himself up, returned the creatures to their rightful habitat, and made his way towards his own shed. He left the door propped open in case any creature needed him, as was his usual habit, and tapped the kettlepot with his wand to start boiling water for some tea. Then, with a sigh, he pulled forward his notes on the acromantula and various other creatures he had noticed while in this particular region and began to write out an entry for the book.

With Tina now a constant inhabitant, alongside himself, he had charmed the little potting shed to be big enough for the pair of them. It was usually a tight squeeze, with Tina's desk neatly organised on the opposite wall, but somehow, it worked. They could bounce ideas off each other, offer tea or a break when the other was getting frustrated. And some nights, they would take a glass of mead out onto the porch, and sit and watch as day transitioned to night in the suitcase.

Those nights were his favourite, talking about something and nothing. Now, the room felt too big. If he stretched his fingers out, he could still touch her chair – the dimensions of the room hadn't changed. Only, that the room felt bigger than before.

With another sigh, Newt cast aside his incomplete entry, and shuffled his way through the letters that had stacked up on the corner of his desk. He had enchanted a postbox at his parents address. When letters arrived for him in England, they would simply pop them into the box, and it would appear in his own identical box in his suitcase, wherever he was. Tina had installed a similar one at Queenie's for her own correspondence. He started by organising the letters addressed to himself, and those addressed to Tina.

His pile consisted of letters asking advice, or for his assistance. He put some aside to consider a bit more, but answered a few of the easier ones. There was one from Mr Worme of Obscurus books asking how the revisions were coming along and whether they would be able to release the new edition in time for the new school year at Hogwarts. Newt replied they would. There was one from his mother – a heavy envelope, with something lumpy inside.

Intrigued, he slit open the envelope, and took out the scrap of paper inside.

Have you made any progress yet? Honestly, that poor girl! Anyway. Pippin found this while cleaning your room, I thought it would probably be safer here, but I imagine you'd want it close by.

Hoping you both are safe, and well.

Mother.

The object in question was a small silver ring, a simple ring, with no stone or adornments, just an intricately engraved pattern. He had found it while Christmas shopping with Tina and bought it while she was looking the other way. It had been checked, the pattern didn't correspond to any known charm or curse or hex – it was just a pattern. But something about the ring, being practical and beautiful, had reminded him of her. And he had bought it. Apparently his mother had been snooping. Newt hid the ring carefully, he didn't want Bennie to find it, or more importantly, Tina.

He slept that night, dreaming of her arriving home, and settling herself down at his desk to read over his notes. In his dream, she ran her hand through his hair affectionately and told him she missed him.

When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was Pickett's chatter coming from outside the hut. Which was strange, given the bowtruckles attachment issues. Newt got up slowly, and moved towards the door. The sight that greeted him made his heart swell to epic proportions.

Tina was knelt on the floor in front of the snidget nest, holding something reverently in her hands, and blowing gently. The mother was zooming around her head, chirping happily while other miniscule little blurs attempted to copy her. Dougal was leaning against Tina's side, an occamy settled through her belt loop, Bennie nestled in her lap, Pickett on her shoulder, hanging onto her hair and crooning happily.

Quietly, he approached her. Dougal looked up before he arrived, looked at him a moment, and then moved to shoo Bennie back to his nest, removing the occamy with practiced hands and chittering something to Pickett. Then he loped back to his nest.

As the creatures left her, Tina looked up in confusion, her face lighting up when she saw Newt.

"Newt!" She called softly, unable to beckon him towards her. "They've hatched! This is the last one. They're white when they're born! Did you know that? Oh, I can't believe you missed it. But if you hurry, you won't miss this one."

Newt knelt down slowly next to her, using one hand behind her back to support himself, and to peer down at the silver egg in her hand. She leant into him, and rested her head on his shoulder briefly.

"When did you get back?" he asked quietly, a truly happy smile on his face.

"About two hours ago, you were sleeping," She smiled shyly back. "I came as soon I was done."

Tina broke their eye contact first, looking down to her hands with a soft exhale of excitement. Newt turned to watch as well, as the shell began to fracture from the inside, and the long beak come poking through. The beak was soon followed by a small ball of bedraggled white fluff, two bright red eyes blinking curiously.

Gamora landed lightly on Tina's hands, and began to make high pitched noises. The baby snidget struggled to free itself from the shell, and unfurled its wings slowly. Its mother began to rotate her wings, slowly, deliberately, hovering an inch above. After a few false starts, the baby snidget rose to meet her. After a few more false starts, the newest baby was whirling around their heads with its brothers and sisters.

"We got seven," Tina beamed, her eyes bright with joy. She sat back, looking up.

Newt turned to look at her. The hand he wasn't using to support his weight, he bought up to brush against Tina's cheek. She turned to look at him. Her eyes bright, her cheeks flushed, her smile threatening to take over her face. Gently, he ran his thumb over the dimple in her cheek that only appeared when she was truly happy. He stared at her in awe.

When asked by an excited Queenie some weeks later, neither would have been able to say who moved first. All they knew, is that one moment, they were staring at each other, then next, their lips had met and they were kissing.

It was a sweet kiss, one made for fairytales. Nothing improper about it in the slightest. But it still made both parties feel weak at the knees and grateful they were sitting. When they parted, Tina found her hands resting on Newt's face as his were on hers. And so they sat, foreheads touching, with newly born snidget's swooping round their heads.

"Well," Tina breathed out a laugh. "About damn time."