When they returned to the case, Jacob wandered off as he went back to admire the Mooncalves while Newt released the Erumpent into her field.
"Now, there's a good girl." Newt murmured as he watched the giant creature amble off happily.
Stella watched from a safe distance further back, but she too smiled as she watched the creature harrumph contently as she circled her patch. Newt walked backward to Stella's side as they both watched the Erumpent fondly.
"Sorry I was really sarcastic earlier." Stella apologized, and Newt glanced at her. "I tend to become a little… impolite when I'm stressed."
"Oh, yes, I noticed that." Newt agreed, and Stella turned amused eyes on the man.
He seemed to realize belatedly that what he'd said was a little rude, and Newt amended hastily, "No, I meant, I didn't mean that… I just meant you were a little ruder- not that rude, you were actually polite compared to other people I've met, um, not that I compare you to them-"
Deciding to save the poor man, who seemed to be sinking into a deeper and deeper word vomit pit, Stella interrupted, "Newt."
Newt went silent instantly, eyeing her anxiously, and she smiled at him.
"I said I was sorry for being overbearing." She said lightly. "You just have to say you forgive me - or, you know, if you don't then that."
"Oh." He blinked at her. "Of course I forgive you. And it really wasn't that rude."
"Thank you." Stella answered, her eyes laughing although she didn't laugh aloud.
Newt found himself staring into her brown eyes, feeling as though he was lost within their warm depths.
She was difficult to read, as socially awkward as he was, but he knew all too well when someone was mocking him with their eyes. Or condescending. Stella's eyes always seemed to be laughing around him, but he got the feeling that it wasn't at him. Rather, it was with him or because something he'd said or done amused her - in a good way.
It was astounding really.
Newt was used to finding beauty amongst the creatures he studied and in many cases befriended. He had long thrown out such associations with Wizards or the like, but with Stella… all he had to do was look in her eyes, and he saw the most magical sight since he'd first laid eyes on the Hogwarts Great Hall many years ago.
Her eyes always sparkled and seemed to speak in volumes that couldn't be expressed with just words. What was it people said? Eyes were the windows to the soul? Well, for him, it was like looking into the windows of another world. One that could be filled with so much hope and light and…
Newt hadn't realized it, but he'd started to lean in, drawn in by her gaze.
Stella, in turn, was leaning up and closer as well, finding herself captivated by his green eyes the same way he was held by her brown ones. His eyes were like his suitcase, magical and so much more on the inside than appeared on the outside.
Stella slowly became aware that his face was closing in on hers as both of them moved unconsciously closer. Her eyes flickered down to his lips before looking back up at his eyes just as he swallowed and licked his suddenly dry lips. His eyes dropped to her pink lips briefly as well, before looking back up as she stared at him, waiting.
They were now so close that Newt could feel her soft breath on his lips as she parted her mouth just slightly while Stella could feel the air move as he sucked in a sharp, nervous breath.
Slowly, Newt's head dipped in even closer, and Stella felt her eyes start to flutter shut as she felt his warm breath land on her lips… only for him to suddenly pull away.
Stella's eyes opened, startled and more than a little confused.
But Newt had averted his head as he abruptly stepped back and away, muttering, "I'm sorry, I… That wasn't… I shouldn't have done that."
Stella blinked. Twice.
"Newt?" She asked, her confusion growing as Newt seemed to tense even further if possible.
"I'm sorry." He muttered, avoiding looking at her. "I shouldn't have- forgive me, Stella. It's not fair to y… please, forget this happened."
His sudden change in attitude bewildered her, especially because she had no idea what had prompted it. Was it something she had done? He'd seemed interested enough and as eager as she was albeit in a shyer, adorable manner that suited him so well. What on earth…?
It was then that Stella saw it.
How she'd missed it the first time, she didn't know – probably too overwhelmed by all the beautiful and wonderful magical creatures – but suddenly, she was fighting angry and embarrassed tears as she stared at the picture of a pretty young woman that sat on the corner of Newt's work desk.
It was turned slightly away from his workshop, which probably explained why she'd missed it on his desk the first time, but it was all too visible from her spot inside the suitcase world. Which meant she was in a perfect position to see every detail of the dark-haired beauty who sat smiling in the frame. The woman, barely out of girlhood really, was dressed in a light-coloured dress with ribbons in her hair, and had a beautiful, sweet smile though there was something in her dark, heavy-lidded eyes that suggested darker, more sultry charisma. Her high cheekbones accentuated that, and Stella had a feeling that this woman (who looked quite young in the photograph) would be quite the sexy goddess when she was older.
In short, she was almost entirely Stella's opposite. Where the woman was dark-skinned, Stella was as pale as the moon like most standard British caucasians. The woman's dark hair and sharp features aside from plump lips were a stark contrast to Stella's own golden locks and soft curved face. Her lips were pouty, but Stella rarely pouted - she was not sexy and never felt comfortable pretending to be if she ever had to.
In fact, the only thing that Stella had remotely in common with the mysterious woman was the dark eyes; and she now realized with a sinking of her heart that Newt had stared quite a lot into her eyes. He'd rarely noticed anything else about her, but whenever they met gazes he seemed captivated.
And he'd backed away after he'd looked down at her lips.
Was it because it wasn't the ones he wanted? Suddenly, Stella felt angry and her eyes snapped back to Newt.
"Is it her?" She asked, voice hard.
Newt started, before he realized what she must have seen. His face became conflicted, emotions warring, but when Stella saw pain, she had had enough.
"So, that's it." She growled, not knowing whether she was more angry or more hurt at her recent revelation. Probably both. "You saw her in me, am I right?"
Newt's eyes snapped up to hers, startled, but Stella barely noticed.
"And now you've realized I'm not her, is that it?"
"No," Newt stammered. "Well, yes, you're not, but-"
That was when Stella lost patience. Because when the admission passed Newt's lips, that was when she heard her own heart break neatly into two with a sharp 'crack'.
"Get lost." She said, in a voice so low Newt wondered at first if he'd heard her correctly.
"I, beg your pardon?" He questioned.
"Get lost," her eyes lifted and he saw they were blazing with dark anger. "And don't come near me again. Don't touch me, don't talk to me, don't do anything. And when this is over, don't ever appear before me again. You can go right back to pining for your ex for all I care, just leave me alone!"
Newt's face, which had paled upon seeing just how furious she was, went absolutely white at how quickly Stella had put together his relation to the woman in the photograph. For a moment, he was completely still, and then his gaze broke.
"I'm sorry." Newt repeated in a whisper, his expression agonized and conflicted. "I- There's something I have to do."
With that, he turned and positively fled, leaving Stella glaring after him, still angry and more than a little hurt.
For all his clumsiness and awkwardness, Stella had liked Newt. And she'd never imagined he would be capable of hurting her. If he had not been reciprocative of her feelings, she could have understood. It would have hurt a little, but she could have accepted that. This, however...
Tears stung her eyes, but Stella refused to let them fall. She'd never cried over a man, not since her father's death ten years ago, and she was certainly not going to do so now. Especially not over Newt bloody Scamander.
Stella swore to herself as she forced herself to walk back to where Jacob was wandering back into the paddock that surrounded Newt's workshop in the centre of his, for lack of a better word, zoo.
"Stella?" Jacob asked, catching sight of the woman and frowning as he thought he saw a tear glistening on the corner of the woman's eye. "Hey, you all right?"
"I'm fine." Stella answered curtly, and Jacob's frown deepened.
"You don't look fine-" He began, glancing to where Newt was bent over something inside his workshop. Although the Wizard looked more like he was trying to hide in plain sight without appearing to be hiding.
However, they were interrupted when a loud knock echoed through the suitcase.
Stella and Jacob looked around in confusion before looking at Newt as the Wizard slowly stood up.
"What was that?" Jacob asked, and Stella said slowly, "That sounded like… someone knocking."
"On what?" Jacob asked, confused.
"The suitcase."
Newt was staring up his ladder which led to the top of his suitcase as he answered Jacob.
Stella was also staring up at the suitcase's opening, suddenly feeling afraid. Jacob swallowed, feeling a similar fear sinking in as he asked slowly, tentatively, "And, uh, who would be knocking on your suitcase?"
"I don't know." Newt answered quietly.
"Is there some way to check?" Stella asked, and Newt glanced back before quickly looking forward once more.
"Yes." He replied curtly.
And without further ado, he began to climb the ladder.
"For having magic, they are surprisingly medieval in other respects." Stella muttered as she and Jacob followed the Wizard up, unable to hide their curiosity as to who could have found Newt's suitcase.
Newt was the first to peek outside his suitcase, opening the lid to look out warily.
Jacob and Stella waited below him, watching as Newt paused before slowly climbing out of the case, his actions carefully controlled in a way that had Jacob and Stella exchanging cautious looks before they followed Newt out of the case.
The second Stella poked her head out of the case, she saw why Newt had been so careful.
The group was now standing in a medium-sized auditorium, packed with people she could only guess to be wizards and witches, given their strange attires in robes. There were many, seated around the auditorium in a way that made Stella realized with a sinking feeling that this might be a UN-type summit of sorts – it was the only way to explain how people of similar dress were assembled together within the auditorium in small groups of perhaps three to five representatives each.
There was, however, one face that Stella recognized amongst all these strangers.
Stella pursed her lips as she met eyes with Tina Goldstein, the taller woman looking apologetic but grimly determined. It was clear that she had been the one to bring them here and, if the hushed murmurs and tight looks they were receiving from the auditorium were any indication, Stella guessed it wasn't for anything good.
As Stella and Jacob looked around, Newt had bent down to shut his suitcase firmly once more, when an incredulous British voice called, "Scamander?"
Stella glanced over towards the source of the voice, her eyes falling on a pompous-looking elderly gentleman just as Newt also saw the man and greeted nervously, "Oh. Hello, Minister."
"Theseus Scamander?" Another man asked in surprise. "The war hero?"
"No." The Minister answered dismissively. "This is his little brother."
Stella's lips pursed as she glanced at Newt, who was looking incredibly tense and –almost – like a frightened child about to be scolded as he stood, fidgeting, while his shoulders drooped.
Jacob also shot his friend a concerned look, while the Minister asked sternly, "And what are you doing in New York?"
"Oh, I came to buy a napplerzooparskin, sir." Newt answered quickly, though he kept glancing around nervously.
The Minister was clearly skeptical as he said flatly, "Right. What are you really doing here?"
Newt hesitated, unable to answer, when another woman, dressed in an elaborate outfit and headdress that screamed 'powerful leader' interjected firmly, "Goldstein. Who is this?"
She gestured at Jacob and Stella, the latter of whom tensed even further as she recalled Newt's words from Jacob's flat.
Tina meanwhile had taken a deep breath before she rushed, "This is Jacob Kowalski and Stella Rowland, Madame President. They're No-Mags who got bitten by one of Mr. Scamander's creatures."
Her voice caught off at the end, as though in terror, and a tiny part of Stella could understand why – the reactions were instantaneous, as people whispered and murmured in general fear and incredulity. If one didn't know better, one would say it was at the fact that she and Jacob had been bitten by a magical creature; but Stella knew better. Based on her initial meeting with Tina, Stella knew these Wizards were more likely scandalized that she and Jacob, Muggles, had been bitten but left with memories intact.
Of course, that was just a fleeting thought in Stella's head; for the most part, she was envisioning throttling Tina Goldstein for being so, so incredibly stupid.
It was at that point that Newt caught sight of what looked like a black-and-white holographic image of a dead man, floating just below the ceiling right above their heads. Apparently conjured up by magic, the image looked incredibly life-like and left out no details about the man, not even the horrific but strangely intricate scars that had evidently been what killed him.
"Merlin's beard!" Newt gasped, while Jacob and Stella also examined the body with matching creases in their foreheads.
'Much better than photographs.' Stella thought absently. 'Though more importantly…'
"That's the New York Senator." Jacob murmured, and Stella agreed softly, "Senator Henry Shaw Jr.; he was a crowd favourite for years, aided by his father's newspaper company. I can't believe he's dead."
"You know which of your creatures was responsible, Mr. Scamander?" An Asian woman piped up to ask, her stern gaze fixed on Newt as the magizoologist continued to stare up at the dead man above them.
"This… No creature did this." Newt said in a hushed, but firm tone. "Don't pretend. You must know about... look at the marks."
He pointed at the strange scarring that Stella had picked up on, which looked almost like someone had taken a knife and cut tiny, detailed patterns all over the man's face and probably down his body if the way they disappeared down his neck and beneath his shirt was any indication.
"That was an Obscurus." Newt stated, and instantly the room erupted into murmurs once more.
Stella and Jacob meanwhile tensed, recalling the strange, black shadow they'd witnessed inside Newt's suitcase. And more importantly for Stella, she recalled the story she was here to investigate, the so-called 'ghost' that had been haunting New York for weeks.
Weeks… which meant it couldn't have been Newt, as he had only just arrived the day before, on the same ship as Stella.
That left only one possible conclusion – besides the possibly that she may be hallucinating this entire magic thing though at this point she would have had to have an extremely overactive imagination for that to be true. Therefore, conclusion: there was an 'Obscurus', whatever that was, in New York, and had been there for weeks. And it had killed Henry Shaw Jr.
"You go too far, Mr. Scamander."
Stella started at the so-called 'Madame President's' sharp tone as the woman looked down at Newt with reproof. "There is no Obscurial in America."
"But there is a 'ghost'."
Murmurs broke out again at Stella's words, while the Madame President – whom Stella guessed must be the leader of the Wizarding World in America – said tightly, "You are not authorised to speak here, Miss. As a No-Mag-"
"I thought America was all about freedom of speech." Stella interrupted sharply, and the other woman's eyes narrowed.
Stella ignored the look as she continued, "Saying that the reason Newt is wrong is because there can not possibly be an Ob-whatever in America, is like saying there can't possibly be a murder weapon just because you don't see it next to the victim."
She looked around at the auditorium at large as she argued, "If you keep up with our Muggle" (she refused to call herself a No-Mag; at least Muggle sounded slightly better), "news, you'll know that they've been investigating a 'ghost' that's haunting New York City. It's left destruction in its wake for weeks, which is before Newt even arrived in New York. And now, you have a dead man with markings that even I can see are not from any mindless creature's attack."
The audience stared, apparently stunned by this Muggle's audacity, while Stella finished heatedly, "And if a magizoologist, a specialist in this field, is telling you that it's from a specific type of creature, shouldn't you at least investigate into it?"
Newt, Jacob, and Tina gawked at Stella as the blonde stood her ground.
But the President, apparently, was equally determined as she ordered, "I have heard enough. You do not know of what you speak, Miss Rowland, and I suggest for your sake that you maintain your silence. Impound that case, Graves."
Stella's jaw locked while Newt gasped as a man around his mid-fifties flicked his hand and magically pulled Newt's suitcase towards him.
"Wait, no. Give that back-" Newt began in alarm, taking a step towards his case while Stella yelled at the President, "You don't even know anything about the magical creatures you live with, how can you possibly be equipped to even understand the living, breathing animals inside that case!"
The President's eyes were cold as she simply looked down at the group, ordering, "Arrest them."
Graves flicked his hands again, and Stella let out a small, involuntary yelp as she felt herself dragged forward while her hands were forced behind her back. A familiar metal clink was heard as handcuffs appeared around her wrists, the same happening to Newt, Jacob… and Tina.
All four of them were dragged onto their knees against their wills, hands locked behind their backs, before the President and Stella's jaw clenched. For people with magic, they sure acted like barbarians.
Graves had stood up, picking up the suitcase, and Newt begged, "Don't hurt those creatures. Please, you don't understand. Nothing in there's dangerous. Nothing."
"We'll be the judges of that." The President answered coldly. "Take them to the cells."
Stella grunted as she was pulled harshly to her feet by a strange man in a long coat.
The same happened to the other three as they were all dragged from the auditorium, while Newt cried frantically, "Don't hurt those creatures, 'cause noth-nothing in there is dangerous! Please don't hurt my creatures, they aren't dangerous! Please, please! They're not dangerous! They're not dangerous!"
