Shock. Tina Goldstein was in absolute shock.

This woman, this beautiful woman in a golden gown, staring back at her from the mirror…it couldn't be her, it just couldn't!

"Yes, it can," said Queenie, who was standing beside her, but not near enough so that she would appear in the mirror. "And it is."

Tina took a deep breath and let it out slowly, hoping it would calm her heart. If this was indeed her, than the only thing that she could say with absolute certainly was that she had never looked like this before. Her hair had never been so pretty, its usually rough waves and blunt cut now smooth like a dark cherry-wood. Thankfully, her make-up was minimal – a rose-pink color on her lips and some dark mascara to her eyelashes – but they certainly complemented her face. And then, there was her gown…Morrigan, her body had never looked so good! Her fingers tentatively touched the bodice of her golden gown, tracing the shimmering lace sewn into the silk.

Desperate for a distraction from gawking at her reflection, Tina turned to Queenie with worry, "This didn't cost you a lot of money, did it? All of the material for my new dresses? This especially –"

"Teenie," Queenie interrupted. "Don't worry about that. Have you forgotten what makes me such a good shopper?" She tapped her right temple with her forefinger, smiling proudly. "I always find where to get the best bargains and prices, whether or not they answer my questions truthfully or not. And, if necessary, I can talk them down to nearly any price I want."

Tina laughed softly. Of course, how could she have forgotten? There had been times, right after their parents died, when Tina had been sure that only because of Queenie's special talent they had been able to afford enough food to eat. Again, she looked down at her dress before asking her sister a new question:

"I know what your inspirations were for my first two dresses, Queenie. The first was Momma and the second was Isolt…what was the inspiration for this one?"

A soft and bittersweet expression came to Queenie's face. "Well…it's actually inspired by one of the first memories I have. I must have been two or three, because you weren't very big yourself; maybe you had just started dance classes. Anyways, I just remember…Papa was twirling you in the middle of the living room. You know, he held your hand above your head and you were trying to do a pirouette…You were both laughing, and you were both happy…I think Momma was making cookies in the kitchen, because I always remember this when I smell them…You were wearing a bright yellow dress, Teenie."

Tina's heart lurched as she listened to Queenie's voice describing this memory. As she did, Tina's own mind brought back that buried memory, a memory that she herself had buried because it had been too painful to remember. That yellow dress…it had been her favorite when she was little because the skirt was so twirly…

Hearing it now through Queenie's point of view brought it back up, but it didn't hurt so much to remember it now. Perhaps time had done its job, or perhaps the fact that it was a shared memory…either way, Tina was glad to learn that this painful wound was now a scar.

So, Tina responded to her sister's explanation without words; instead, she hugged Queenie tightly, and Queenie hugged her right back. When they pulled apart, both with bright eyes, Tina grabbed onto the first thing she could think of to say:

"Thank you for finding some pretty dancing slippers for me to wear as opposed to heeled shoes, by the way. I'm already as tall as Newt, and I don't want to tower over him."

"And they're much easier to dance in," said Queenie with a teasing smile.

She then reached into the pocket of her flower-patterned robe and pulled out a mask. It was a half-mask, just enough to conceal her forehead and the areas around her eyes. It was made of the same golden lace that was sewn into her gown, and two white ribbons were dangling from the sides. "The final touch," said Queenie, motioning for Tina to turn around.

Tina did so, and carefully held the mask still while Queenie tied the ribbons behind her head, hidden under her hair. Once Queenie was finished securing the mask, she turned Tina around to face her. In the bedroom, Tina's alarm clock showed that it was nearly half past nine in the evening.

It was time for Tina to go to the ball.

Before Tina's nerves had the chance to get the better of her, Queenie reached out and squeezed her hands. "Go, Teenie, and have an absolutely wonderful time with your fella!"

For the first time, Tina didn't try to correct her. Perhaps because she knew that Queenie wouldn't accept it, or maybe she just liked to hear Newt being called that…My fella…

Queenie, of course, heard this, and she smirked. "Go, Teenie! Don't keep him waiting! And don't think of worrying about staying too late, alright? I'm perfectly fine now."

Tina nodded, squeezed her sister's hands one more time, and then stepped back to disapparate.

Once Tina had vanished, Queenie gave a happy sigh and wiped the corner of her eye. She then exited Tina's bedroom and walked down the short hallway. She found Jacob in the living room, sitting in his easy chair and going over noting the day's receipts from the bakery.

He looked up when he heard her enter, and he smiled at the sight of his wife. "Cinderella off to the ball?"

Queenie giggled and nodded. "I like that story, Jakie," she said as she perched herself on the arm. "Especially because it's so obvious that it's based on a true story."

Jacob chuckled, rubbing Queenie's back. "Yeah…knowing what I know about your world now, it's pretty obvious that the fairy godmother was a witch that knew the lucky girl, maybe a neighbor or her actual godmother.

Queenie nodded. "Either way, it was most likely real."

Jacob gave a noise of agreement. "I'm assuming that you didn't charm that lovely dress you made for Tina to turn into rags at the stroke of midnight?" he teased.

Queenie laughed. "Of course not! That part of the story was either made up for dramatic effect, or the witch did it in order to get her home before her nasty relatives."

Jacob nodded. Then, he looked up at his wife as a new thought came to him. "Are you disappointed? That we couldn't go, I mean?"

Queenie paused before she answered honestly. "Only a little. You know that I love any opportunity I can wear something pretty and dance with you. But this is Teenie's night, and her chance to find the happiness with someone that we have. That's much bigger than any disappointment I have in my heart."

Jacob gave her a proud and tender smile before getting up from his chair. He moved quickly, knowing that Queenie would soon learn his new idea before he could truly surprise her. No matter: she was absolutely delighted by it.

He walked over to the radio and turned it on. A soft and slow jazz tune filled the room, and Jacob walked back to his wife as he said, "Well, I know this isn't a ballroom and we're not in fancy dress, but you are wearing something pretty and we can dance all night, if you want."

He extended a hand to her with a gallant bow. Queenie giggled, accepted his hand, and happily let her husband dance her around the living room.

Newt, for the first time in his life, didn't feel uncomfortable around so many people. The simple act of putting a mask on his face worked more thoroughly than a disillusionment charm or even an invisibility cloak. With those, he would have needed to avoid the crowds altogether, be very careful not to bump into anybody and alert them to your presence. Here, though, wearing white-tie-and-tails and a black half-mask on his face, he was invisible in the best way. Nobody stared at him with curiosity or something worse, and nobody approached him for an autograph or a photograph. That was quite a relief.

Besides, he doubted if any of the people arriving would have paid him much attention even if he'd been recognizable. Every person he saw arriving to the ball had a look of awe on their face, and for good reason.

On the grounds of the Scamander estate, the Ministry workers had set up a huge tent of white gossamer, translucent enough to make out the moon and stars above. This made sense, considering the modest ballroom of the house itself was far too small to hold the volume of people coming. Again, the English summer weather had been very generous for the evening.

Newt stood outside the tent, just a few yards away from the tent's grand entrance; Theseus and Leta were standing just inside the tent, greeting all of the guests who came in. His parents were elsewhere in the tent, perhaps talking with old friends that they felt comfortable with. The reason that Newt was not also inside the large tent was not because of his natural aversion to being in a crowd.

No…he was looking for Tina.

About a half an hour had gone by since Newt had come outside after Theseus and Leta. The steady trickle of guests arriving was growing less in volume. Less people for him to observe and try to recognize as the one he was looking for. It was a comfort that he was looking for a woman rather than a man: all the men wore more or less the same penguin suit and the same type of black half-mask, whereas no woman wore a similar gown or mask. So he observed each woman who walked by, hoping to find Tina in one of them.

A woman in a deep burgundy gown with black spangles…No, she's too short to be Tina…A woman in a turquoise gown with golden feathers…No, her hair is a reddish gold, not at all like Tina's hair…A woman in a shimmering golden gown…

Wait…could it be?

He first spotted her from some distance, but the first signs were encouraging. She was tall and slim, just as Tina was. Her skin was just as pale as Tina's. Her hair was the same length and color as Tina's. Yes, this was a strong possibility…but he needed to get a proper look at her eyes. Then he would know for sure.

As she came closer, he could make out an expression of awe on her face. Even though she wore a half-mask that matched her dress, he could see in her wide eyes and her smile that she was delighted by the sight. He took several steps forward, his heart beginning to pound, silently begging this woman to notice him. To look at him. To let him know that the woman he couldn't stop thinking about was finally here.

By the grace of Merlin, the woman's gaze drifted across the tent towards his direction. When she saw him, she stopped. Their eyes met…and just like that, he knew. And he knew that she had recognized him, too.

Both of them walked towards each other across the grass, their gazes never breaking. When they were a foot apart, it was Newt who spoke first. One word, in a voice of reverence:

"Tina."

And her reply was equally breathless:

"Newt."

And she smiled again, but only for him. Newt, overwhelmed with joy, took her hand and kissed it, bending over it like a shrine. A part of Tina wanted to giggle with glee at this courtly gesture, but she didn't dare break the magic of this moment. She offered no resistance when he took her other hand with his as he brought his head back up.

"You came," he said, quietly but with real joy.

"Of course I came," said Tina. "I said I would, and I just couldn't…not…"

Newt nodded a little. He drank in the sight of her like a fine wine before he managed to say, "Lovely…you're so lovely, Tina…"

Under literally any other circumstance, Tina would have blushed, shaken her head, and made a denial or a joke to brush off such a compliment. This time, though, she only blushed.

Seeming to sense that another such compliment right now would very well bring out the full reaction from her, Newt let go of her hands so that he could hold out his arm. "Shall we?"

Tina let out a breath, nodded, and took his arm. Soon, they had joined the trickling queue of arriving guests and walked into the white gossamer tent.

"Oh, wow…" Tina breathed as her eyes took in the interior. The ground inside the tent had been transfigured from glass to smoothed wooden tiles perfect for dancing on. Little white-clothed tables with flowers on them were set up around the edge of the tent, and in the middle was the dance floor; an orchestra took up a space right beside it. Above them, light was being provided by fairies, swinging gaily from little swings hung up from the rafters holding the tent up.

Tina had to laugh when she spotted them. "Oh, they must be very happy to be showing off to so many people."

"Oh, yes," Newt agreed. "There is no creature so vain on this earth than a fairy."

Tina nodded before saying her next words. "Yes…I remember you saying something similar in your book."

Newt stopped in his tracks and looked at her with wide eyes. "…You did?"

Tina nodded and gently tugged his arm so that the line of guests could keep moving. Soon, they had come up to Theseus and Leta. They both opened their mouths to give their standard warm greeting, but they smirked when they recognized Newt and saw the lady on his arm.

While Leta just continued to smirk with twinkling eyes, Theseus grandly swept his arm towards the dance floor. "Your destination is that way."

His ears turning scarlet, Newt threw him a nasty look and quickly moved him and Tina along the queue. However, the place he led her was the dance floor. A few other couples had drifted there, waiting for the orchestra to begin a new number; they were currently changing their sheet music.

Facing each other again, Newt again took her hands in his and asked, "So you…you did read my book…did you, um…?"

Tina smiled at him and nodded. "It was wonderful, Newt. Really, it was. It deserves all of the praise and attention it's gotten, and then some."

The ever-humble magizoologist blushed and lowered his head. "I did my best," he mumbled.

Tina brought his attention back to her by letting go of his right hand, putting her fingers under his chin, and lifting his face so that they're eyes could meet. "Forgive the pun, but your best was fantastic."

In that moment, Newt wanted nothing more than to drown in her eyes.

Then, the orchestra began to play a waltz, and the other couples on the dance floor began to move. Tina firmly raised her right hand in his left, and placed her left hand on his shoulder. Newt's own right hand lifted but then hesitated.

"Tina…I haven't danced in a very long time, so please forgive me if I –"

"Newt," she interrupted firmly. "I'm a ballerina. My feet are by far the toughest parts of my body, and they have been through worse than someone accidently stepping on them. So, please, don't worry about that. Just keep your eyes up here and let's enjoy this."

Relieved beyond measure, Newt placed his right hand on her lower back, inching just a bit closer to her. "That sounds like a wonderful idea."

They shared one more smile before they began the traditional steps.