Newt and George spent longer than Newt ought to have spared getting the injured hippogriff, who went by the name of Herbert, out of the case and into a stall in the stable. The other hippogriffs were offended and amazed to so suddenly have a stranger added to their number. Newt spent his time soothing ruffled feathers while his mother came in to look over Herbert's wing injury, which hadn't been mending nearly so well as Newt thought that it ought to be.
"Poor thing, shut up in a stuffy case for months on end while you gallivant back and forth!" Gloriana tsked disapprovingly.
"I happened to find him in Morocco, injured and starving in a bazaar, while I was searching for something to help Tina's memory. And I had to get back to her! If I hadn't 'shut him up' in my case, he'd have been dead in a week."
Newt was annoyed, but he knew by now that when an injured creature was before her, his mother's sympathies would lie with it rather than her own children.
"Certainly you had to get back to her, but do you really think I wouldn't have come to get a flightless hippogriff if you'd called on me? I can travel now that your father's at Blethering full time, you know. Or I could have sent Salsify. She'd have no trouble transporting a single hippogriff."
Newt frowned. This was a legitimate criticism. If there was one thing that would mobilize Gloriana Scamander to leave her Lake District lair it was an injured hippogriff. He could have easily handed the problem off to her. The thing was, at the time, as for most of his adult life he'd pretended not to have a family, at least not one richly backed with money, land, and connections. He had needed to prove to himself that he was a self-sufficient wizard who didn't need to rely on nepotism to get ahead.
He'd been suspicious when he'd been asked to write his textbook, unsure if this was a request on his own merits or some unasked for bit of goodwill from an elderly relative who thought of their eccentric nephew when asked about magical beasts. After a thorough grilling of the publisher, Newt was relieved to find that they hadn't been able to find a single wizard who'd said yes to the prospect of hiding out in bushes and freezing on boats in search of the world's magical beasts. Finally they'd appealed to the Control of Magical Creatures Department at the Ministry, and his boss had been only too glad to be rid of him for a year on the publisher's knut. Newt did have a bit of a reputation for sabotaging his own department's efforts at the extermination of magical pests, having been found hiding piskies in his coat rather than actually killing the creatures.
Still, now that he was older he could admit that it was foolish to let a creature like Herbert, who was already starting to be accepted by the hippogriff in the neighboring stall, suffer even slightly when Newt had such easy access to a better solution for him. That was not being self-sufficient, it was being petty and negligent.
"You're right, Mother. In the future, you may expect to find yourself called upon to airlift magical beasts out of precarious circumstances in all corners of the globe."
He smiled slightly, and Gloriana flicked the end of her wand at him, sending popping sparks out that sizzled harmlessly at him.
"Cheeky."
She sounded pleased.
A bell rang.
"Is it time to get dressed for dinner already?" Gloriana asked.
"It can't be—I haven't checked on Tina yet! And I have to send an owl to a terrifying witch!"
"Then you'd better get started. I had Salsify and Theseus on meal duty tonight so don't expect anything impressive," Gloriana warned.
Newt raised his eyebrows.
"Are you trying to force Jacob and Queenie into complying with your plan out of desperation? I could have done dinner if you'd asked."
"Well, the thought had crossed my mind that if they realized just how hard up we are here…"
"Mother," Newt sighed. "Well, if Herbert is alright with the others, I'm off to see to Tina."
Newt ran up to the house, entering by the French doors that led up to the Drawing Room. If Theseus was in the kitchen he had no desire to use the pantry door and run smack into him. Hewent in the opposite direction of the kitchen and took a carved wooden stair up to the unused west wing. It was dusty and drab up in this part of the house, and would need a thorough cleaning if Theseus was really planning to have his friends over in a couple of weeks, since this was where most of the guest bedrooms were located. Newt ducked under the appropriate tapestry of a Griffin clutching a serpent in one talon and tapped the second wooden panel from the right with his wand to activate the passageway leading from this wing into the family corridor.
He passed the turnoff that went to his parents' rooms and the stairs to the now unused nursery, and continued past Theseus's door, past the Green Room and Salsify's room. Newt slowed to a stop, and had his hand on the doorknob of his own room, when he heard the sounds of feminine laughter down the hallway. He turned abruptly, gripped his case, and strode toward the Rose Room. Queenie shouldn't have come up here without asking him! He hadn't noticed anyone coming along the path from the gamekeeper's cabin while he was in the stables with his parents, but he'd been distracted. If she'd snuck in he'd better go smooth things over before they became any rockier with his mother.
Newt rapped sharply on the door, which opened immediately at his touch. He involuntarily flinched when all the roses around the room went from white to shades of bright pink, as if the whole room were blushing. Distracted, Newt stumbled into the room, not immediately locating the sounds of his little sister laughing uproariously from the floor next to the sofa on which Tina was sitting, covering her hand with her mouth, her cheeks looking as pink as the room. He did not want to know what they had been talking about.
"Salsify? What on earth?" Newt was trying to shake off the discomfort of whatever the room was trying to insinuate, but all it was doing was upsetting him. And he readily saw a target, the annoying ginger-haired baby sister sprawled out on the floor, skirts very untidily scrunched to reveal that she was wearing riding breeches underneath them. He carefully set his case down on a rose-patterned pouff next to the dressing table, fingers automatically checking the locks before letting go. Then Newt came up and kicked Salsify lightly in the back of the knee.
"What are you doing in here? Tina was supposed to be resting. Did you need something?" He turned quickly to Tina, who was looking at Newt and his sister in amazement.
"You really do look exactly alike! Queenie and I never looked real similar. I always wished we had. Nobody thinks we're sisters at first glance. But there's no mistaking the resemblance with you guys."
Salsify scrambled up, looking put upon. "Hmph well, I may not be the most feminine, but no need to be insulting. I don't look exactly like him you know." She selfconsciously smoothed down her dress-front and skirts.
"No, I don't mean that—just, your faces and eyes, your hair! It's amazing. Of course you're both real cute, you don't need ta fish for compliments," Tina scolded as if Salsify really were her little sister.
Tina thought through what she'd just said, and cast a somewhat horrified look at Newt. He was simultaneously glad she still thought so and wanted to spare her and himself any more embarrassment, so he turned to his sister with her raised eyebrows. Salsify was looking between the two of them, then plucked a rose from a nearby vase and examined the medium-pink color with amusement.
"These were all white just moments ago, you know," she said loftily. "I can't recall the color-change being so rapid or so vivid at any other time!"
"What are you doing here Sal? Mother said you were supposed to be doing dinner!" Newt poked her in the side and frowned down at her.
"I was just saying hello to your new wife! She is my sister now you know, not that you were even polite enough to notify either of us of the other's existence," Salsify was pouting in an exaggerated manner, but Newt got the feeling that it wasn't all put on. He had usually been on better terms with Salsify than the rest of his family, so naturally she was at least as hurt as their parents. None of this was her fault, though. Newt sighed.
"I'm sorry, Sally. I did intend to bring Tina up here at some point, but very soon after we were married all our plans went pearshaped. And I did tell Tina about you—she said that it was hard to imagine me with a little sister, but that you sounded very interesting, and that she'd love to see your palmetto-orchids, which I'd told her about when we were in Florida, seeing many interesting varieties ourselves. Tina thought we should send you one, but unfortunately my occamies thought it was delicious."
Newt smiled faintly at the memory of Tina scolding the occamy that had slithered its way into the shed, but looked around uncomfortably when the color seemed to have gone out of the flowers around them. They didn't seem to have gone back to white, but instead had faded instantly without quite wilting. Tina was looking at her feet and frowning.
"I'm sorry," Newt said, and sighed. Salsify was looking around, horrified.
"Me too," she hastened to say. "I didn't mean—I mean, Newt told me you weren't well. That something had gone wrong with your memory. But you were so nice and fun to talk to—just like my friends at school—and I kind of forgot what he said. I've never had a sister, you know. I really enjoyed hearing about your trip over and I hope we can all investigate Newt's case together. I'm sure we'll be able to keep you safe from the erumpent, Tina."
Newt nodded slowly. "I still don't know what upset Ethel, but with enough wizards who how to say, specialize in large animal care, it should be safe for you to go down again and figure out what's going on."
Tina looked up at them, both so earnestly hoping to cheer her up, and after a long moment she started to giggle. Newt and Salsify looked at each other in bafflement.
"You just both had the same little look on your faces!" Tina said "It's too funny!"
Salsify smiled, glad that whatever upset had struck Tina seemed to have faded away. "Well, I'm going to go set the table. Theseus kicked me out of the kitchen, so I said I'd do the table instead. Delphi knows what he's going to come up with alone though. I think I've got some ripe mangoes in my greenhouse if you'd rather not risk sitting down to the table."
Newt grimaced. "Normally I'd be more than happy to take you up on your offer, but tonight we've got to all sit down and try to mend fences about Queenie."
He turned seriously to Salsify. "Are you going to be alright having dinner with a natural legilimens? I noticed you bolted pretty quickly earlier."
Tina frowned.
"Hey, I don't think you guys need to worry so much about Queenie—she's very goodhearted you know. Even if she learned something by accident, she'd never use it against you."
Salsify looked at Tina pityingly. For a brief moment, she looked like a mature adult speaking to a child. It was very disconcerting.
"Unfortunately we are bound by certain oaths that have nothing to do with goodheartedness. It's duty plain and simple. And I was just taken by surprise earlier. If Newt the Hufflepuff with all his feelings can hold her off, then I can too."
"Watch it, you," Newt said, taking her by the backs of the arms and turning her toward the doorway. "Now go."
He got her started with a shove between the shoulders. She glowered at him over her shoulder and her wand appeared in her hand.
"Make sure you dress for dinner. Mother wants to do the formal thing."
"Fine," said Newt.
"Dinner begins when you hear the gong! Don't be late!" Salsify singsonged. She got through the door, and then there was an ominous flash. Newt went over and tried to open it, only to hear Salsify's laughter from outside.
"Salsify, open this door right now! If you don't I'll open it myself and you'd better watch out!"
"Don't you dare—you'll damage the room! Mother will be livid. It'll open itself in a quarter of an hour. See you then!" He put his ear to the door and could hear her little feet pounding on the stairs.
-o-o-o-
Newt turned back to Tina, who had advanced to the middle of the room and was standing on the labyrinthine rug with an amused yet confused expression on her face.
"She locked us in?" Tina asked. "That's weird! I thought we were getting along great."
"You probably were, but she lives to torture me."
Tina stepped closer. "Just you? Not your other brother?"
"Well, him too, but he's not such an easy target," Newt smiled a little. Salsify certainly had scored a few points off Theseus in her young life, and in appreciation Newt had never tried too hard to avoid her pranks.
Tina smiled at him, and Newt noted with both relief and concern that the color of the roses around them was deepening again. He hadn't meant to make her uncomfortable by talking about her other self—that elusive person that he'd come to think of as his Tina. Queenie seemed more comfortable with this younger-seeming version of Tina, but she completely caught him off his guard. She was much harder for him to understand or anticipate, but she was at the heart of things, still Tina, wasn't she?
She smiled at him, and took another step, so that she was right before him. Newt glanced around. Was the room up to its previous tricks? Nothing seemed different. He glanced at the rug with the maze on it, but could see no little figures. Perhaps Tina really had become more comfortable with him. After all, they had spoken quite honestly with one another in the room at the Leaky Cauldron that morning. But he couldn't relax—Tina still wasn't entirely herself. She was different, possibly just in that he was such an unknown quantity for her. He'd drawn such comfort from the fond familiar way that she'd looked at him. That was one of the things he'd thought about when he'd been shocked to find himself reacting very seriously to Tina's half-joking proposal of marriage.
He had perhaps been staring at her a little too long while he'd been thinking. Tina licked her lips and swallowed. Newt realized with some alarm that they had somehow drifted quite close to one another for those small actions to be quite so apparent.
"Salsify seems nice. I'd gone out to find the washroom, and she showed me around and helped me find my way back," Tina said. "Even though she locked the door on us, I really like your sister. She's not as serious as the rest of you guys."
Newt smiled. Salsify and Tina were perhaps closer in mental age at the moment than Tina was to the others. But more than that he, Queenie, and Jacob had all been under great strain handling Tina's injury and the difficulties of their journey.
"We're not usually quite such bad company," Newt said wryly.
"No—I didn't mean that," Tina said. She looked up at him, and worried her lip slightly with her teeth. Newt took a breath. Rose petals and Tina. Not helping. He looked to the side. He needed to stay calm.
Tina slowly stepped even closer, slipping her arms around him. So close, he could feel that she was shaking. He held completely, painfully still. What was this, all of a sudden? But he had started it downstairs by embracing her in front of his mother, hadn't he?
"Tina," he said, in a quiet half-strangled voice, "are you feeling alright?"
Instead on stepping back, Tina just buried her head in his shoulder, looking away from him. Her arms wrapped tighter around him and he couldn't help but put his own comfortingly around her. The last thing in the world that he wanted was for her to feel rejected by him, not when he so desperately missed her every second of the day.
"I've been thinking about it since before, when you hugged me downstairs. I don't remember meeting you, or getting married, or—" she gulped but went bravely on, "getting pregnant. There's all this scary stuff going on—getting attacked, losing my memory, healers and potion-makers and wild beasts. But you still smell familiar. The way it feels when you hug me—it doesn't seem scary like I thought it might. Maybe she knew what she was doing. You know, the other me."
"Oh, Tina," Newt pulled her tight, tucking her head under his chin. He breathed in, and sighed deeply. She still smelled and felt like Tina, if perhaps a more tentative version on herself. He closed his eyes and tried to get himself together. He drew a breath and forced himself to break the moment.
"I think maybe we're getting a little ahead of ourselves. Not that I blame you in the slightest. Something," he stopped to glare around the room at its bouquets of bright red roses, "has obviously been doing its best to put ideas in our heads."
He was very careful not to push Tina away, but instead turned with his arm around her. He gave the bed a wide berth as he steered them both over to the green sofa in the corner. Since it was not rose-print it seemed a bit safer than the rest of the decor. Newt settled Tina down on one side, and sat, leaving a gap between them that he tried not to make too obvious by turning toward her as he searched his pockets for quill and parchment. It seemed too quiet, and he was trying desperately to keep Tina from feeling as if he'd put space between them, though wasn't that literally what he'd done?
So he started babbling.
"Since I last saw you I went to see Queenie and Jacob, who seem to be settling comfortably into the cabin. They've tentatively agreed to stay on and help Mother with Theseus' guests. Then I ended up spending the rest of the afternoon as most afternoons, and mornings, and in fact late nights are spent around here. You'll soon see if we're really to stay here for the next few months."
He rifled through his pockets and triumphantly pulled a feather from his pocket only to find that it was not actually a quill, but one of Frank the Thunderbird's pinfeathers from his last molt. It was far too large for a serviceable quill so Newt tossed it beside him on the sofa.
"Doing what?" Tina said a little impatiently. Newt glanced up and saw that Tina's arms were crossed and she looked quite vexed with him.
"Hmm? Oh, serving as large-animal veterinarian and nursemaid to magical beasts of all stripes."
He had not yet found a quill, but had unearthed a roll of parchment. Figuring out what he was after, Tina rose and went to the small roll-top desk in the corner and pulled out a quill and inkwell.
"Thank you. In all the excitement, I'm afraid I haven't yet written to Jane Moon-Leanfear. Do you have that packet that she gave you? I'd like to be able to give the owls an address. They're marvelously clever, but as I'm already cutting it close here I'd prefer to give them as much to go on as I can."
"Um, I think we packed it in my trunk." Tina pulled her wand from a pocket inside her skirt, and as she waved it, the clasps on his case snapped open, and Tina's trunk floated up and out.
Newt shot off the sofa and dodged around the hovering trunk, slamming the case shut. He'd completely forgotten that she'd got her wand back earlier to do the packing. He looked around, sniffing in case Dougal had somehow managed to get out but the aroma of roses was too much.
"Oh no, oh dear. Really, Tina," Newt said, breathing a little quickly from the adrenaline of his unexpected sprint.
"They might get out. Remember the niffler?"
Tina was frowning. "It went up the stairs of a big building. There were nomajs inside."
Newt had meant at St. Mungo's, but this sounded a little like the first time—the very first time. Who had she seen first, he wondered, him or the niffler? He'd never asked.
"Do you remember anything else?" Newt asked eagerly.
"Huh?" she asked, blinking. "Well knock before you come back up. I've gotta change clothes before dinner, right?"
It took Newt a minute to catch up.
"Oh, yes, certainly."
He rapidly descended into his case. He looked around a bit. The niffler was in his lair, but Dougal was not visible. This didn't mean that he wasn't there, however. And if Salsify had locked the door, he'd have to still be up in the room, so they'd soon know. Newt looked half-heartedly around for spare clothes, but decided that he'd better get on with transfiguring what he was already wearing because unless he finally made it into his room in Blethering House and found his mother had kept up his wardrobe in his absence, it was not very likely that he was going to find black tie anything.
There was a mirror against the wall that had been mostly obscured by snowshoes and harnesses far too large for any mundane horse. Newt cleared it out and stood before it as he tried to get his clothes to behave. Finally he managed something between muggle formalwear and wizarding styles—a black tailcoat and trousers with white shirt and waistcoat and black bow tie. He looked at his brown boots and reluctantly transfigured them to a black shine. Unfortunately this also made them less comfortable. Newt wasn't sure why, but despite being his own favorite clothes at the core, making them look more formal always made them feel that way as well.
He tried to ignore the creatures' pleas for attention—he'd made sure everyone was fed and watered earlier—and ascended the stair. He knocked clearly and politely.
"Oh! Uh, one sec!" He heard a few odd sounds, and then Tina called out: "Come on in!"
Newt climbed out and saw Tina, now in a beaded dress that showed her knees, especially when, as now, she was tackling a magical creature on the floor.
"Help!"
Tina had a good grip on Dougal, but he kept phasing in and out of visibility in alarm.
Newt rushed over and grasped Dougal gently but firmly. The demiguise wrapped his arms around Newt, chattering in agitation.
"Oh no, Dougal, she didn't mean to scare you. If anything you scared her," Newt scolded.
Tina was shaking, and scrambling up from her awkward position on the floor.
"He certainly did! I was getting ready when he jumped on top of me! I couldn't see him at all. Why would he do that?"
Newt pet Dougal carefully. He didn't want to upset Tina again, but he didn't want her to be too hard on Dougal.
"It was a game that he likes to play with you. Dougal was a bit of a favorite of yours, once the two of you became friends. He used to jump on your shoulders to try to surprise you. You in turn would try to notice before he ambushed you, so that you'd catch him. Your auror training helped you to be more aware than the average witch or wizard, and the two of you enjoyed the game."
Tina calmed down as she took that in. She reached her hand out.
"Sorry Dougal. There's a lot of stuff that I don't remember," she grabbed a white rose from the vase next to the bed and offered it to him.
Dougal slowly reached out, took the rose, and chomped the blossom off happily.
"I think you're forgiven," Newt said. "Let me get him settled back in the case."
When he turned around, Tina was waiting, smoothing her hands over the royal blue and silver beadwork of her dress. He stared for a moment.
"Well, is this okay? You look real fancy. This was the nicest thing I could find in there," she gestured to the trunk.
She looked beautiful, of course, and just like her own wonderful self. He shook his head.
"It's not?" She walked back over to her trunk that she'd put on top to the chest at the foot of her bed. It had clothes spilling out of it in cascades and her pajamas and a slip were pooled on the floor. "I don't know what to pick then."
"I think you look lovely, Tina. But at dinner with my parents, who are very much of the generation of long skirts—most often for wizards as well as witches, muggle clothes being a relatively new trend here—you might feel a little more comfortable like this."
Newt waved his wand and the beadwork wove itself out into a floor-length skirt with a small train in the back. He indicated a full length mirror to the left of the windows that hadn't been there a moment before.
"Is that alright with you?"
Tina swished over to the mirror. She smiled.
"Looks good to me."
"Then let's go down."
He held his hand out to her, and Tina, grinning, took it. Newt felt a little thrill of both pleasure and aprehension. This was Tina, and he needed to be careful with her. This also wasn't Tina, and he needed to be careful with himself. And somehow in between all that he still had to get an owl off to the midwife. Rats.
-o-o-o-
Newt and Tina appeared downstairs, Tina's dress very elegantly transfigured He let Salsify take Tina to the lounge, where his mother was handing out sherry, and ran out to meet Queenie and Jacob before they came up to the house. Since he had been locked up with Tina since he'd heard that it was expected, he assumed Salsify had neglected to tell them about the dress code for dinner. Annoyingly, he really could not aparate over to where they were, so he ended up sprinting down the path to cut them off before they reached sight of the house. He most especially didn't want Jacob to be embarrassed, since the baker had seemed a little more impressed with his family than was either necessary or healthy.
He caught them as they were coming out of the wood, in the same clothes they'd been in earlier.
"What's up Newt?" called Jacob.
"Is it Tina?" asked Queenie, pulling out her wand.
"No," he puffed, jogging over to them. Queenie started to put her wand back in a pocket in her dress. Newt held up a hand.
"You might want to keep that out. I forgot to tell you it's black tie for dinner. It's usually not, but you are guests, and Theseus probably guilted Mother into it. He loves to impress in any way possible. Sorry. Could you, you know?"
He gestured between himself and Jacob and went ahead and took Jacob's overcoat off his shoulders.
Jacob looked at Newt like he was crazy.
"Sorry to tell you buddy, but ain't no amount of magic gonna make your clothes fit me!"
Queenie tittered. "No, honey, he means I should do this!"
She looked him over carefully, waved her wand in an intricate pattern, and nodded her head. Jacob's brown suit darkened and shifted in cut, his long tie curling up into a black bow and his blue shirt bleached to bright white. Even his brown shoes shifted to highly polished black.
His eyebrows raised, and he whistled. "Wow!"
Newt had caught his breath a little better, and looked at Jacob critically.
"Maybe a scarf, since you're coming in from the cold, he recommended. "It is to be white, cashmere, with fringe."
"Okay," said Queenie. "I've seen those."
Newt helped Jacob resettle his coat on his shoulders and held Queenie's while she fixed herself up. The dress that she chose she actually summoned from her suitcase in the cabin.
"If you'd just told me that we was dressing up, Newt, this woulda been so much easier!" she scolded. However, Queenie loved dressing up, even in a dark and chilly wood, so when he was allowed to turn back around Queenie was beaming, resplendent in a long dress with pink-gold shimmers.
"Impressive," Newt smiled.
"You can say that again!" Jacob laughed, offering Queenie his arm. They all walked back to the house, and Newt told them about the events of the day, taking care of Herbert and getting him settled with the other hippogriffs as well as settling Tina into her room.
"Now if we can just get through this dinner," he finished.
"What's the problem?" asked Jacob. "I thought we were good with your parents now."
"Well, I hardly need say it, but Queenie will have to be on her very best behavior or Salsify with have to leave the table. And that'd be a shame because she and Tina seem to have hit it off. But the real issue here is that Theseus is cooking. Sal was supposed to help to make sure things were edible, but they quarreled and she ran off."
"Jeez, your brother sounds like a real troublemaker," said Jacob.
"Oh, he is," said Newt. "And please don't forget it. When he tries he can be very charming. I've never thought so, but I've seen enough other people fall for it that I hope you will be on the lookout."
"Alright, alright, Newt," said Queenie. "I don't think we'll have any trouble."
They entered the house by a side door that allowed Newt to hang Queenie and Jacob's coats before proceeding into the family areas in the back of the house. They met the rest of the family minus Theseus in the Drawing Room. Salsify greeted them and stuck a sherry in each of their hands before she sent Jacob over to speak to Gloriana about his bakery and Queenie over to George to make small talk about working at MACUSA versus the Ministry of Magic. Newt was quite impressed with the improvement in her hostessing skills.
Salsify gave him a cheeky wink and went back to the sofa where she and Tina were already giggling over their drinks. Newt shook his head at her, and leaned over the back of the sofa to speak directly in his sister's ear. "I think that's quite enough for Tina, Sal." Newt said.
"Why? If she wants to get completely sloshed to avoid the awkwardness of not remembering your family who never knew about her, then why shouldn't she? It's what I would do."
Newt sighed. They were about to go in to dinner, and short of taking the glass from Tina's hand he could hardly do anything about it. Or could he? He strode over and pretended to be looking at the bookcase. He pulled back his jacket just enough to wave his wand, and there. He'd changed the sherry out for lemon cordial. It was Tina's favorite, so she was unlikely to complain, and it was almost the right color. He walked over to her and gave a little wave.
He sat next to her on the sofa.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"Of course," she said. "I was just telling your sister about Ilvermorny, and she was telling me a little bit about Hogwarts. It sounds amazing. Salsify, did you play quiddich?" Tina asked.
"Indeed I did!" she chirped. "I was Seeker for my last three years."
"Oh really? That's neat. I never actually was on the team, but I played with my friends."
"Flying comes pretty easily to this family. Mummy and Daddy both played at school, and Theseus as well. Come to think of it quiddich may be the one thing we all have in common. Newt played too. Until they chucked him out, of course. He was recruited really young, in his second year, right Newt?"
Newt was never quite comfortable talking about his expulsion, especially not in the same room as his parents, for whom that had been an absolute nightmare come to life. So he shrugged and nodded.
"I played Chaser," he said. "For four years."
"And then instead of taking the professional quiddich position he was offered, he opted to chase wizards who hadn't registered their manticores or what have you. Then he decided to cut out the middle man and chase the beasts directly," said Salsify, laughing.
Newt scowled a little at this flippant summation of his career, but she wasn't exactly wrong. Perhaps he should have given Salsify lemon cordial as well.
A gong sounded, and they filed through to the dining room. Newt held out his arms for Tina and Salsify, who took them and laughed across his chest over an anecdote from Salsify's school days involving a toad, some peppermint whizzes and a collapsible cauldron left in the girl's bathroom. Newt rolled his eyes a little, but was very pleased to see Tina in such good spirits. He settled her into a seat at the long table. Only the bottom half was set for dinner. Newt was pleased that they hadn't gone to the trouble of shortening it. It was ridiculous enough that they had to sit there in jackets and gowns and eat whatever Theseus has managed to cook off of silver plates and a gleaming white tablecloth.
Just as Newt was settling himself next to Tina, Theseus appeared, in his crisp white shirt and perfectly black suit and tie with his red-gold hair gelled and gleaming. There was no evidence to suggest that he'd been cooking.
"Not there, little brother. Husband and wife never sit next to one another, you know that. No, you sit over here by Mrs Kowalski, and I'll take your place by Tina. Mr. Kowalski, why don't you sit between Mother and Salsify."
Newt frowned, but took the seat on the end by Queenie that Theseus had pointed to. This was ridiculous. It was just friends and family—all family, really, since even Jacob was supposed to be related by marriage to himself and Tina. There was absolutely no need for all this foolishness.
Once they were all seated, Theseus waved his wand and a silver covered dish lowered itself into the middle of the table. The cover vanished, revealing a steaming and very good-smelling steak and kidney pie. Newt's were not the only raised eyebrows at the table. Theseus was not known for his prowess in the kitchen, and while the rest of the family could occasionally pull off something further along the scale toward tasty than merely edible, this big, beautiful pie was suspicious.
"It looks lovely," said Queenie.
"Thank you, Mrs. Kowalski," said Theseus, smiling charmingly at her as the pie neatly divided and served each person at the table.
"I'm only sorry that I'm such a poor cook that I couldn't properly manage courses. It's not every night that our family grows in such a surprising burst."
Salsify caught Newt's eye and looked from the pie to Theseus with narrowed eyes. She wasn't buying this humble chef routine any more than he was.
"Well you've done a nice job on the crust," said Jacob. "And if you'll give us a few minutes in the kitchen later, Queenie and I can probably make up a little dessert without too much fuss."
"How kind of you," said Theseus. "Salsify had said she would handle dessert, but then she rushed out of the kitchen. Doubtless she couldn't keep herself from our lovely new sibling."
"Hey!" said Salsify. "You kicked me out of the kitchen! You called me—"
"Sal, that's enough," George said mildly from the head of the table. "Let's just be glad we have something edible to eat after getting all gussied up."
Salsify frowned. She was wearing a shimmering blue dress, a little higher at the neck than those of the Goldstein sisters, whose New York fashions were a little more risque than on this side of the Atlantic. But thankfully he'd been able to convince Tina to go with the long hemline, and Queenie had naturally done the same, so they were all roughly propper next to Gloriana's more mature but still lovely gold chiffon gown.
Newt was eating carefully, not quite convinced that the pie was not going to turn out to have tacks in it or give them all food poisoning. Theseus was asking polite questions about Jacob's bakery, about sales and tarriffs and business things that Jacob seemed all too happy to talk about. Queenie was telling Salsify about New York fashions and the jazz scene there, and Theseus looked like he was using some sort of charm to listen to both conversations at once.
Tina was gulping down the wine. Finally she set the glass down, and Newt tried to surreptitiously change the wine into purple hibiscus juice, which was the only thing that he could think of that was the same color. Gloriana asked Tina a question, to which she nodded and then took a big sip so that she wouldn't have to give a further response. When she tasted the sour juice, her face went all scrunched, and she made a speaking sound while turning her head to see what to do. Finally she managed to swallow, but some went down the wrong way, so she started coughing.
To try to take the attention away from Tina, Newt turned to his brother, and rudely interrupted his conversation with Jacob.
"So Theseus, this pie is very good. Where did you get it?"
Theseus' lips drew into a thin line.
"As I was saying, little brother, I made it. Perhaps you think you could have done better—"
"I don't," said Newt. "I'm nowhere near an expert like Queenie or Jacob. But I know you couldn't have made this. Where did it come from?"
Theseus sneered. "It came from the kitchen. If you need to go feel that the oven's still warm, be my guest."
Gloriana made a tutting noise and put her hand to her forehead. George frowned.
"Newt, leave off. For goodness' sake, can't we just all be pleased that we have a half-decent dinner to eat. Please don't cause a scene in front of our guests."
Newt looked over to Salsify, who was still focused on Tina's coughs. She summoned Tina's wine glass.
Newt quickly spoke. "Don't you think the pie is a little too good to be true?" he asked her.
Salsify wouldn't be deterred. "I think what's really weird is that you changed out Tina's wine for hibiscus juice," she took a sip. "Blech, you didn't even bother to add any sugar."
Everyone at the table was staring at Newt.
"Alcohol is not an optimally nutritious substance for humans—"
Salsify grimaced.
"So you're determined to control her environment like she's one of the creatures you keep shut up in a box? Taking after Mummy and Daddy in working out optimal care and feeding charts? Have you ever considered that what those poor beasts might want is a little bit of freedom?"
Tina was staring at Newt with wide eyes during this.
He tried to respond. "I know that it might seem unduly protective—" Everyone from Queenie to George seemed to raise an eyebrow at this except Tina, who was looking very hurt. "But Tina is injured, and as such, needs to be looked after."
Salsify snorted. "That sounds awful."
Theseus looked well pleased at how the tables had be turned and added, "I never imagined you as a husband at all, and now come to find out you're a controlling one. How strange life is."
"Yes," said Gloriana, waving her wand and changing out Tina's glass. "How strange indeed to wait eighteen long years for your eldest son to do his duty, settle down, and continue the family line, to find quite suddenly that the second son brings home a lovely wife. Let us take the good with the bad. Is that alright my dear?"
Tina looked around. "I—I need a minute."
She got up from the table and bolted out the dining room door. Newt threw his napkin on the table and followed after her. He turned at the door.
"Please excuse us. Enjoy the rest of your dinner."
Then he hurried after Tina's rapid footsteps.
-o-o-o-
Newt looked around, but could not spot Tina. He paused and thought for a moment, at the crossroads of corridors that was the entry to the magical part of the house. She might have run outside, but Tina was overall a practical sort of person, and while this could be easily overridden when she was sniffing out wrongdoing, she was unlikely to seek out the danger of unfamiliar terrain at night. She was most likely to have gone up to her room, and Newt relaxed upon realizing this. Then he bolted up the stairs, remembering that he'd left his case on her floor without so much as the muggleworthy latch left on.
He reached the Rose Room, and found the entryway a mass of seething thorny wooden vines.
"Tina!" he shouted, pounding on the wall next to the doorway, where he wouldn't cut himself. "Tina please let me in! We can talk, or not, but I've left my case in there, and there are things inside that you oughtn't to touch without proper understanding."
The slithering motion of the vines slowed, and Newt addressed the door directly.
"That's right—she might be hurt while you're messing about trying to seem threatening. Do you want Tina to get injured because you're playing at misunderstood lovers? We're already married—I already love Tina—and if you do not let me in this instant I will not be responsible for what I have to do to you."
He pulled out his wand, and waved it menacingly. Thankfully, the vines receded, and the doorway opened. Newt was glad, as he really hadn't wanted to damage the house, especially this part that had become so distinctly developed. But he didn't stop, he just looked around the room, the couch, the bed, the rug, all empty, save for the stray biliwig that fluttered around a bouquet on the nightstand. Looking to the side, Newt saw his case standing open, and he plunged down the stair without a second glance.
"Tina!" he called, throwing open the door of the shed. "Tina! Where are you?"
All was relatively calm, though several of the creatures trumpeted or called for food and attention when they saw him. Newt checked the most powerful large animals first, and was pleased to see that the nudu and erumpent were well within bounds. Newt couldn't immediately spot the niffler, so he'd likely have to tell his mother to count the silver and check the vault, though that was probably well-protected enough that the niffler was the one in danger of being caught.
Newt decided to stop shouting and listen. His emotions were running high, and that was most likely the problem. Breathing slowly, he began to look around. He checked the graphorns, mooncalves and grindylows, the special kappa pool near the back, and the giant pouffle enclosure beyond the grain storage. Then he turned his attention to the cabins. Queenie and Jacob's was nearest, and it was empty. The one he'd made or Tina was also empty, the solid hardwood bed he'd lifted from her aunt's cottage, taking up most of the available floor space. Where could she be?
"Tina?" he called again, this time in a more moderate tone of voice. There was no answer, but a low animal hum drew him over to the palms near where some primate habitats were suspended from the ceiling. This was near the bowtruckles' wiggentree, so Newt stopped in to see Pickett.
"Have you all seen Tina? She's a dark-haired witch, about so tall—"
This was met with tiny sounds of derision.
"Ah yes, of course you know what Tina looks like. I forget—her appearance hasn't changed at all. Just everything else," he muttered.
This was met with a sharp sob, and Newt jerked around, finally locating the sound as coming from one of the suspended wicker balls. He spun it round gently, until the opening was revealed, and he found Tina, curled up with Dougal inside the small sphere.
Both Tina and Dougal were glaring at him, Tina's eyes red-rimmed from tears. Newt felt awful. He hadn't meant to hurt her in the first place, and then he'd just made it worse by spouting sulky words to the bowtruckles. This really wasn't like him, at least not Newt Scamander, grown-up Magizooligist, which he'd worked so hard to become. This was more like the angry, broken-hearted boy who'd been forced home with his disapproving family after getting chucked out of school for the endangerment of human life.
"I'm sorry," he said, kneeling on the ground before the sphere, so that Tina could look down at him. She did not choose to, and avoided meeting his eyes.
"I appologize for changing out your drinks without asking. I didn't want you to have to refuse, perhaps leading to questions about the baby."
"Your parents already know. And Queenie and Jacob too," Tina said finally. "Why is it so important to you to keep it a secret from your sister?"
"It's not."
And it really wasn't. Yes, Newt had told himself that it would be nice for Salsify and Tina to get to know one another, but his real motivation in all this was to keep his brother from hearing that there was a new heir on the way.
"I got agitated. I was worried—well, you know that my brother has an important post that he's inherited from my father."
"I get it," said Tina, somewhat tiredly. "But what in the world does that have to do with you and me having a baby?"
Newt frowned. "When Blethering was granted to Norbert Scamander in the sixteenth century, the Queen—which always struck me as odd, since she was a woman herself—bound up the succession for the post in the muggle right of primogeniture, meaning that the first-born son of the current Lord gets the lot. When father dies, Theseus will get the lot. If there are no male heirs, the nearest male relative gets everything. So naturally, muggles and wizards alike don't want to kiss their homes goodbye if the head of household dies, so they usually try to hedge their bets by having more than one boy in the family. This has worked just fine over the centuries, but where it all went pear-shaped was when my grandfather died suddenly when I was two.
"Father had to take over a post that he wasn't expecting to have for several decades, and there was no one at home to properly train Theseus in the other aspects of the job, which he didn't exactly take to like a kelpie to water. Mother filled in where she could, but Father basically had to pull double duty until Theseus finished university—he went to a muggle place called Oxford, and seemed to enjoy it a great deal. But things went wrong again, and Father decided to retire early, leaving Theseus as Lord Warden. And Theseus hasn't produced an heir."
"What would happen if he died?" asked Tina.
"Right now? Disaster. I'm it. As in, if something happened to Theseus, unless father could somehow be persuaded to come out of retirement, I would automatically assume the title. That's the last thing that I want, and the last thing Theseus wants. But if you and I were to have a boy—well, there is some precedent for the Lord Warden adopting a relative as their heir. Alternatively, if I had a son, it would make me look like a safer prospect for insuring the continuation of the office. And I just—I don't want him to get any ideas."
"You think your brother would want to take our baby?" Tina looked very skeptical. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but your brother doesn't exactly seem like a baby kind of guy."
Despite his upset, Newt had to laugh slightly. "No, he's not. In fact the whole idea is so distasteful to him that he has never brought himself to marry despite the fact that having a son would improve his position."
"Why does his position need improving? He seems to like the whole schmoozing with important people thing." Tina wiped her eyes. If nothing else, this whole tangent with Theseus seemed to be distracting her from her own troubles.
"Well, that is the official part of the position. But there are other duties..."
"Like what?" asked Tina, leaning forward in the basket to see him past Dougal's fur.
Newt bit his lip.
"I'm not sure I ought to tell you about all that yet."
Tina frowned. "Why not?"
Newt hedged. She was his wife, but she was not exactly all there. Moreover, her sister was a very curious untrained legilimens. He wouldn't be able to tell Tina anything that she couldn't put together on her own by reading certain chapters of A History of Medieval Magic in Great Britain, but still, if Queenie knew more about what to look for it might make it easier for her to pick out some of the details that needed to remain secret.
"I hope that I can tell you, and soon. But I'd like for us all to settle in a little better. Why, in less than two weeks, we'll be back in London to see Professor Slughorn again, and with any luck he will have come up with something that could help restore your memory."
Tina curled back up into the wicker ball, turning away from him. She kicked her foot against his shoulder to set it gently spinning again, so that he could no longer see her.
"Oh yeah," came her muffled voice from within the orb. "That would just solve all your problems then, wouldn't it. You'd be able to get rid of me once and for all and have her back."
"That's not it at all! You are her." Newt was trying very hard to keep his patience. This was Tina, hurting and in unfamiliar territory.
"Then why do you keep all these secrets from me? You don't want to tell me anything. Don't want to let me in your case, don't want me around at all!"
"Tina, that's not true."
"You went out with your friends, you've been away half the time we've been in England, and more than half the time since we got here."
"I have had to get everyone settled, Tina, not just you. But if you need something, you can always tell me."
Tina shifted, and Dougal scrambled out of the wicker ball ahead of her, making it spin and bob. Tina came to a stop with her bare toes touching the floor, sitting on the edge of the opening of the basket right in front of where he knelt. Her long skirts were bunched up around her, and Newt noticed that her stockings and shoes were discarded among some ferns beside the primate habitat.
"I just want you to stay, with me."
Newt looked bewildered. "I'm not going anywhere," he said.
"No," Tina looked frustrated. She reached out, grasping his left hand in both of hers, bringing it to her lap, which pulled the suspended basket slightly closer to him. He could see her eyes. They sparkled with the intensity of her feeling, just like they always had.
"I mean, I don't want to always feel like you can't wait to get rid of me, like you're searching everywhere for someone to take my place. I may not be your Tina, but I'm Tina nevertheless. I'm here. Why can't you just...be with me?"
"What?" Newt shifted uncomfortably, trying to pull back. Since Tina had a grip on his arm this only served to pull the hanging ball further off the ground so that hi was supporting more of its weight than was comfortable. "As I said, I'm not going to leave you, Tina. We're married, even if you don't remember, and we're in this together."
Tina huffed a little in annoyance, but disappointment was plain on her face. Newt was not entirely sure what she wanted from him. But, perhaps Tina wasn't either. It had to be difficult, seeing not just him but Queenie and Jacob as well always looking at her for that spark of memory that they longed to see. Still, Tina would never forgive him if he gave up on her treatment because her younger or less complete self was feeling insecure. Tina had worked so hard to overcome such insecurities, and it wouldn't do justice to her memory to let that happen.
As if sensing the direction his thoughts were taking, Tina started speaking quickly. "I'm not saying I don't want to get better. It sure would be nice to be treated like a grown-up witch who knows what she's doing. I guess, I guess talking to your sister really made me feel like I was missing out on something. She's never met me before—any kind of me. So she wasn't expecting me to be this other person. And I read the midwife's notes—there's a lot of changes that come with having a baby anyway. I may never be the Tina you want again. If you can't like me along the way, then maybe, maybe this isn't going to work."
Tears started pouring down Tina's face, and Newt was tron by the urge to comfort her and the sudden reminder within her words that he had not sent the owl to Jane Moon-Leanfear as promised, and was now in danger of having her do a location spell on Tina and show up at their doorstep. That wouldn't go well for anyone. No, he had to get the owl off right away. But Tina's streaming tears were turning into silent sobs, and there was no way he could leave her alone.
"Blast," he said quietly.
Tina looked up at him, and New used her grip on his arm to pull her up from the hanging sphere. She pressed against him, and he found he could do no more of less than to hold her quietly for a few moments until her sobs quieted. Newt leaned his head against hers, and found himself giving her forehead a kiss as he pulled away. He really shouldn't confuse Tina. Was that dratted room having an effect inside his case? But no, that would be impossible. She just felt like Tina, her own self, and he had been so ecstatic to get to be her husband, to finally hold her and be with her, that he'd become accustomed to the closeness in that short twenty-four days that they had been married. Newt sighed. He couldn't let himself get depressed. He had to keep it together so that he could be there for Tina.
"Tina? Newt?" called a voice from far off. "Are you guys in here?"
"Queenie must've got past the roses," said Tina softly.
"More impressively, she must have got my mother to let her into the family apartments."
He found a clean handkerchief in his pocket, and gave it to Tina, who wiped her eyes. Newt kept his arm around Tina and guided her carefully back out past the niffler's empty lair and the wiggentree with his saucy bowtruckles. They were coming up toward the shed, when they heard a snorting below. Queenie hurried down the stair and out to meet them just as Newt pushed Tina behind him and turned, wand raised, twoard the sound.
"Ethel?" Newt said, taking a step forward. "What on earth is wrong with her?"
For the erumpent was running at the magical barrier that separated her paddock from the others, and Newt was extremely glad that he'd already reinforced it. He stepped up to the top of the enclosure, waving his hand behind him at Tina and Queenie to stay back. Ethel did not seem upset by him approaching, but when he cautiously passed the barrier, she moved her head with astounding speed for such a bulky creature, tossing him to the side so that she could get between him and the front of the enclosure where she was still stamping and pawing, her attention fixed on Tina and Queenie who stood by the door to the shed. Newt looked under Ethel, and could see Queenie trying to pull Tina inside.
"What should we do?" called Tina.
At her voice, the erumpent's trumpeting call sounded again, and she lowered her head, horn glowing.
"GET OUT," Newt answered, loud as he could shout.
Tina and Queenie turned, gathering their skirts, and ran into the shed, the door slamming behind them as they went.
It took some time to calm down the erumpent, though she seemed ready enough to settle down once Tina had left, being a little overly affectionate in fact, licking his face and knocking him around. Newt would have been upstairs sooner, but he found he was so covered in erumpent saliva that he had to take a bath before he could go back upstairs. Something was clearly up with Ethel, but was it something about Tina's memory loss? Was that troubling Ethel? Newt was embarrassed to say that most of what he knew about erumpents had been hastily learned from the trader who had wanted to get Ethel sold as quickly as possible. That was one of the entries in his book he felt most guilty about as Newt had not had the opportunity to view erumpents in the wild, in large part since their numbers were few and their habitat difficult to find. His editor had made it sound as if he had, which caused him no end of discomfort. He'd have to seek out some other source of knowledge.
Clean and in fresh clothes, Newt stumbled up to the Rose Room. Tina was in the bed under a canopy of pink and white roses intersperse with little glowing fairy lights. It looked lovely, and the room was clearly doing its best. Summoning the lights of so many fairies must have taken quite a bit of effort. Newt shut and latched his case, picking it up as he looked around the dimness. Queenie was sitting in a chair by the bed, and Newt at first thought that she was as sound asleep as Tina, but she stirred when he came near.
"I'm glad to find that she was able to fall asleep," Newt said.
"No kidding. She was real worried about you, but I told her about how you didn't have any trouble with the erumpent the last time this happened, and she calmed down a little. Though she didn't seem to remember that real clearly. But it's been a long day."
"It has. Tina should be safe in here. I'll remove this," he held up the case, "so she won't be tempted."
Thinking of Tina entering the case on her own gave him a shudder of fear. They were all very lucky that she must not have passed the erumpent enclosure on her way in. If she had he might not have got there in time. Ethel did not seem to be bluffing—erumpents were not generally quick to use their exploding horn since it drained their magical power for a time afterward, yet both times she'd been confronted with Tina, she had gone straight to fight readiness.
Newt shook off the thoughts. It must be after ten, at least. He was beginning to feel the strain of the day. Was it just that morning that he'd had that unproductive interview with Hector Fawley? He turned to Queenie.
"You needn't stay—I'm sure Jacob will be missing you. You must have impressed Mother and Father for them to have let you up here—they're usually very careful."
Queenie smiled wryly. "They're not that impressed. Most of the time between you leaving dinner and me finding you guys was your mother hunting around for this," Queenie held up a long golden chain with a beautiful stone, swirled pink and green in a gold filigree setting. Newt couldn't remember having seen it before. It was certainly not among the usual family jewels that got trotted out for balls and such.
Newt raised an eyebrow in question.
"It's ruby in zoisite, prevents psychic attack," she frowned at the necklace as it hung from her hand, turning this way and that. "I'm sure it's enchanted to enhance the properties of the crystal. Wearing it feels real weird, like there's a blanket over everything. But it's not bad." Queenie lowered her voice to a whisper. "In some ways it's a relief. I've never been able to keep from hearing before, you know."
She looked completely knackered. Still in her evening gown, her hair had begun to escape from its coiffage spell, frizzing about her head in a golden halo.
"Come now, Tina's safe. You'd better get to bed. It's been a long day for all of us. But now that you and Mother have come to an agreement," Newt looked uneasily at the pendant that was still dangling from Queenie's fingers, "you can come and go as you please. We'll be safe at Blethering, at least until Tina's more stable."
"You might as well stay here til the baby's born though, right? I mean, it's real nice here, and you don't have anyplace else to take Tina."
Newt looked around rather bleakly.
"I suppose you're right. It's what we quarreled about the last time I was here you know. Mother and Father wanted me to come home. Things are at a particularly tricky stage, and Theseus can't help them. I told them no, under no circumstances was I going to come back here to have my life ruled over by someone who can't even do the job. Then here I am, a year later, back of my own accord, and with a baby on the way no less. How will we ever escape now?"
"You know this is real annoying, right?" Queenie rose from the chair and stretched. "Legilimency or no, I wish you'd just come out and say what it is your family wants you to do here. If it effects Tina and the baby, then it effects all of us."
Newt sighed. "You're right, of course. And it will probably all eventually come out. But it's up to my parents, and I suppose Theseus as well, how much I can tell whom and when. So please be patient."
Despite her protests that she'd be all right by herself, Newt walked Queenie to the door of the gamekeeper's cabin and saw her safely inside. He was halfway back through the dark and familiar forest path when he came upon a group of garden gnomes. This in itself wasn't unusual, as the creatures liked to move about in the night. But they seemed to have something cornered. Newt shooed the gnomes away with a few well-placed kicks. The last of the gnomes ran off, revealing a silvery-white swan.
"What are you doing here?" Newt wondered. The bird seemed to have something wrong with its wing. Newt awkwardly scooped it up, realizing as he did that this was not an entirely ordinary bird, but one of the flock of silver swans that lived on their lake. Why on earth would one of them be this far away? Had the gnomes captured it? While it was injured it showed no sign of being moved, and being twice the size of any of the gnomes it would have been a difficult opponent.
"Ah well, you'll have to sleep in the duck pen tonight," he said. There should be an empty cage in there for any birds that needed to be isolated from the flock. He walked past the house, past the greenhouses, away from the stables until he came to the duck enclosure. The big shaggy sheepdog that watched over the ducks lifted his head, but Newt said a few soothing words, and he settled back down, though one eye was still cracked, watching as Newt levered the heavy bird into an empty pen. The other birds sent up a bit of a commotion, but finally all was settled.
"Right then," Newt said to the animals. "I'm finally off to bed then." He looked overhead, watching as an owl swooped across the sliver of moon. "Oh damn. The owl to the midwife. No bed for me yet."
Newt sighed and began the trek back across the yard, through the house, and up to the owlery. He managed to send off one of the family owls, and then promptly fell fast asleep on the posting desk, case at his side.
A/N: Thank you so much to all who reviewed and especial shoutout to VlightPhase for the deliciously long and thoughtful reviews 3 3 3