Disclaimer: I don't own Rose Granger-Weasley, Newt Scamander or any other character created by J.K. Rowling. My aim is merely to entertain and play around with them a little.

Chapter twenty: In which Rose meets two very different women

After their encounter with Dumbledore and Newt's subsequent admission that he already considered Rose to be part of his family, the red-haired witch settled more frankly in her 1920s life.

She still had nightmares, more violent than they used to be, and in the absence of Queenie's gentle cooing, Rose was left to cry herself back to sleep or, more often than not, to go down to the basement to seek Dougal's company.

Newt had polished his book but had vehemently refused her to have a sneak-peek, saying that she already knew what it talked about anyway. She'd tried to counter by explaining that she'd never read the first edition, but he hadn't changed his mind, and sent his manuscript to the editor right away.

Theseus came by regularly, reminding Rose that she'd promised to meet Leta but hadn't done anything to effectively meet her yet. Rose had then asked why Leta didn't come with him on one of his visits, resulting in his early leaving. She'd been puzzled, to say the least.

All in all, as long as she kept to Newt's house – their house? – everything was peachy.

But of course, she couldn't possibly stay cooped up in there forever…

"Rose? Where is my scarf?"

Newt was running from one end of the house to the other like an excited puppy. Rose, said scarf in hand, was shaking her head upon witnessing such behaviour.

February had given into March, winter had given into spring. Newt's book had been published and, as Rose had expected, it was success. So that day, they were bound for Flourish and Blott's for his first book-signing.

"Newt," she laughed, "I've been holding it for the past five minutes."

He stopped and blushed as she handed him the yellow and grey scarf. "Sorry."

Rose smiled and placed a light grey hat on her head. "Everything's gonna be fine, Newt."

He didn't answer, but nodded before grabbing her hand and walking out the door.

London-city was buzzing as usual when they Apparated in a side-street to the Leaky Cauldron. Passers-by enjoyed the rays of sunlight that peeked through thin clouds, and conversations were as enthusiastic as a morning of spring.

Rose felt the same pang in her chest when stepping inside the crooked pub, but unlike the last time, she reigned in the heartbreak that came with familiar bearings, and kept her gloved hand safely tucked in Newt's. He tugged her towards the hidden entrance to Diagon Alley without a word, swallowed up by his own nerves.

The wizarding world's most famous shopping street was filled to the brim with shoppers. A good amount of witches were gathered in front of Madam Malkin's, surely to appreciate some new frock in the shop's window; a couple of young wizards were pointing animatedly at the Quidditch supplies' window; and a queue of a rather large amount of people had formed in front of Flourish and Blott's.

Newt's hand started trembling in Rose's, and she stopped him, forcing him to look at her before she smiled in reassurance. "Breathe. It's going to be okay. I'm there."

He nodded absent-mindedly, eyed the queue once more – and they'd been noticed, now, for a few witches had started whispering and pointing at them – and shook his head. "I don't like being around many people."

"Neither do I," she answered, and it was the truth. "But you'll be behind a desk, signing books, and you can escape whenever you need a break. They can't do anything about it." She smirked, this time. "I can even make a diversion, if you need me to."

His green eyes rose to meet her blue, and he smiled more frankly. "That'd be nice." And he tugged her forward again.

The bookshop's owner – a portly gentleman with a bowler hat one size too small – met them in front of the shop, amidst mutters and pointing fingers. "Mister Scamander! Thank you for coming! It's an…honour, yes, an honour!"

Rose forced herself not to snort. It visibly wasn't an honour. Newt had been mocked all his life; the success of his book didn't change the looks of contempt on some people's faces. Including this man.

Newt nodded, and tugged at her hand again. "Thank you. This is my sister, Rose. She's here to help me."

"Oh, of course!" the wizard's beady eyes suddenly lit up, as if he was offered a very precious edition. "We've heard so much about you, Miss Rose! It's a pleasure to meet you!"

He made a gesture as if wanting to grab her hand for a kiss, but Newt entered the shop and pulled her with him, which made her chuckle in relief.

Her first 'true' outing. She hadn't expected to be such a point of focus, though…

A hundred or so of Newt's book – Rose was delighted to discover its first cover, simple, dark blue with elegant and curved golden lettering – was placed around a large desk behind which sat two chairs. No doubt that the shop's owner had intended for the second chair to be his, but Rose commandeered it, ignoring the lingering stares of the shop's clients.

She sat, adjusted her dress, took off her hat and matching gloves, and put a pile of five books in front of her, nodding at Newt who sat down as well, eyes cast down onto the desk. He grabbed a quill, his hand trembling still.

She leaned closer. "I'll ask for their names, you sign, say 'Hi' or 'Thank you', and that's it. Alright?"

His gaze met hers, and he nodded with a small smile. "Thanks."

"Anytime, brother mine," she winked, heart swelling as she said those words. This awkward wizard was truly hard not to love. If she could bring him back with her to the 2020s, she'd be the happiest person on Earth… Alas…

The first witch in the queue cleared her throat, bringing her back to the present. Plastering an amenable smile on her lips, Rose greeted her. "Hi! Thank you for coming! What's the name you'd like the book to be signed for?"

And thus began a very long morning, and an equally long afternoon, repeating the same words over and over again.

At one point, around 3pm, a man with a notebook and a quill approached the desk, forgoing all queuing to stand right in front of Rose, upsetting the mother of three he had pushed out of the way.

"Miss Rose Scamander, for your first real appearance in the wizarding world, have you got anything to say?"

Newt's eyes rose from the book he'd been signing, and a frown appeared on his features. Rose had rarely seen him this upset, perhaps even angry. She placed a soothing hand on his arm and hissed "Which paper are you working for?"

The man smiled. "Daily Prophet. The best there is."

She smiled darkly, this time, and waved the shop's owner closer. "Sir, will you please escort this journalist outside? He hasn't obeyed the rules of queuing, and hasn't purchased my brother's book. Until he does both, I'd like him out of my sight, thank you."

The journalist made an affronted face, but before he could retort, the portly owner had steered him back to the entrance.

Newt visibly relaxed, and the witch whose children had been clutching their copies to their chests like excited kittens huffed in appreciation. "Well, Miss Scamander! Your spirit is greatly appreciated!"

Rose smiled to the woman, who seemed kinder and less…prompt to mutters than most of the earlier patrons. "He was quite rude to you and your children. That never sits well with me."

The witch smiled back. "Thank you. Come on, little devils, what do we say to the kind madam?"

The three kids – none of which appeared old enough to attend Hogwarts yet – parroted 'Thank you!' before the family left.

Newt tapped her arm gently, and Rose looked at him with a quizzical glance. "You've won them over."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be sentimental. Four in a million isn't enough."

"Careful, it sounds like you are planning world domination."

Rose's laughter made several in attendance stare at her in wonder. But she didn't care what they thought of her in that moment: Newt had made a funny joke.

The queue stopped at about 5pm with a couple of youngsters who were certainly more interested in seeing what the fuss was about than the book itself; and a young blonde witch who stood in front of Newt with stars in her eyes and a love-struck smile on her face.

She called a bright 'My name's Bunty!' to Rose when she'd enquired about her name, then proceeded to tell a baffled Newt all about why she found him extraordinary. The magizoologist looked lost for a long moment, then blinked and started asking questions to the young witch, about why she liked his book and work. Bunty answered in a voice shaking with excitement that Care for Magical Creatures had always been her favourite subject at school, and that she'd always wanted to know more about the magical creatures of the world.

When she claimed to have read his book eleven times since it got out and took it upon herself to quote several lines of it – even going as far as to quote the exact page – Rose stood from her chair, startling her 'brother' and his fan.

"I'm going to stretch my legs upstairs. If you need me." With a smile, she added, "Nice meeting you, Bunty. Do not refrain from pleasing my brother's ego. He needs it." And with that, she climbed the dozen stairs leading to the rest of the bookshop, where she knew she'd find the Healing section.

An hour and a half later, Newt and Rose finally stepped back into their home, tired beyond belief, but also quite pleased with themselves.

Newt and Bunty had talked quite a lot, both equally awkward, although the young witch was more extraverted than him. They'd talked about creatures, about his research, about the baby Nifflers…and it all ended with a job offer.

"I still don't understand why you'd need an assistant," Rose said as she put plates on the dinner table. They'd summoned some food from a local restaurant in a surprisingly familiar way, although they didn't call it 'take-away' yet.

The red-haired wizard sighed as he sat down. "I need the help. Anything can happen when I'm not there, and I wouldn't be here to fix it." Then, he sighed some more, crossed his arms, and stared at the ceiling pointedly. "And I don't want you to help me anymore."

Rose paused, a fork in mid-air, her wand frozen in her hand. "What?" It didn't make sense at all, with everything he'd told her time and time again, about how he was glad she was there to help, etc. etc.

"I mean," he backtracked with a grimace, "I don't want you to help me and not be paid for it anymore." He cleared his throat. "I….I want to…I want to write another book."

Rose's eyes widened, and she sat too, puzzled. "What does that have to do with me helping?"

"I….I want to write about the healing properties of some creatures' fluids, venom and so on…" He paused, a thoughtful smile appearing on his lips. "Like the Swooping Evil's venom."

Rose was reminded of New-York for a moment, and took her time missing Queenie and Jacob – and Tina, alright – before she carried on. "And?"

Newt met her gaze for a second before returning his to the ceiling. "I'd like you to help me write it. You're a Healer, and you know my creatures and….future…remedies."

Silence. Rose felt all blood drain from her face, then return to her cheeks, making her blush and feel faint at the same time. "You want to write a book with me?"

"Yes." This time he looked her in the eye, and held her gaze. "You don't like the idea?"

She huffed, clutching at her chest, although she wasn't having a panic attack this time. "It's…I'm…flattered. I'm honoured, even. But…are you certain?"

"I wouldn't ask if I wasn't. It means I'll have to send time in a tiny room with you for long hours…" he made a show of shivering, which made her laugh. "Do you agree to it, then?"

She shook her head even as she answered. "Of course I'll write a book with you. You dummy."

Newt's answering smile could have powered up a nuclear plant…

Exactly three days later, a very excited Bunty knocked on their door, more than ready to start her first day as Newt's assistant. She had kind words for Rose, but her gaze remained firmly attached to the magizoologist who was already babbling about all the things he had to show her and that she had to put down on paper not to forget.

Someone had a crush on her 'brother'. It was cute. And sickening.

"Newt, I'm going to the bookshop!" she called as he and his assistant disappeared beyond the door leading to the basement. He didn't answer, obviously, but she knew he'd heard her. Shaking her head, she grabbed her grey hat and chuckled as she stole his scarf – she loved that thing, and didn't even know why – and wrapped it around her neck.

It was the first time that she was out and about alone since she'd come 'back' to England. It was frightening, and every person that she crossed path with on her way to the Disapparating point looked suspicious in a way she hadn't ever felt before.

Palms sweaty and eyes burning from looking around her so often, Rose Apparated away to the Leaky Cauldron, sighing in relief when she found herself tucked away in the pub, and in relative safety. People still stared at her, some with indifference, others with curiosity, and others still with a greedy look on their faces. When she escaped to the backyard, she heard the starting ushered conversations, and sighed. Dear Lord, could people of any time period stop talking about people behind their backs?

Flourish and Blott's was quiet that day. It was a week day, it wasn't the holidays, and most of Diagon Alley was calmer than she'd ever known it to be. She greeted the shopkeeper – not the owner, she noticed – and asked where she could find books on the healing properties of plants and creatures. She was directed to a secluded area of the first floor, and buried herself under several volumes.

After about an hour of perusing, she hadn't found many interesting books: a couple on plants and their healing abilities – although it was slightly dated, she'd have to crosscheck with what she knew from her time – and only one on creatures. Then again, it was dusty, old, hand-written and probably the work of an obscure and limited wizard sometime during the Middle-Ages. She discarded it, sighed, and picked up the two Herbology books.

That's when she noticed someone watching her from the stairs' landing. They'd probably been there for a while, leaning against the railing, face hidden in shadows.

It was a woman, petite with dark hair, and as she approached, Rose felt something like recognition course through her. She'd seen those features before, she was sure of it, but she didn't remember where.

The woman's dark eyes were framed with disciplined curls. She wore a velvety crimson hat and a matching dress that highlighted her slender waist and curves. Her lips were painted blood-red, and she was smiling. "Hello," she said, calm, collected, everything Rose wasn't.

Then, she remembered. Newt's study. His bookshelf. The photograph there, next to his family's.

"Oh, you're Leta!" she exclaimed, a bit ashamed after the fact. "Sorry, that was rude. Hi. I'm Rose."

"I know. I saw you come in here a while ago and thought I'd come and say 'Hi'."

Rose frowned. "You've been here the whole time?"

Leta shrugged. "It's not the first time I'm waiting for Scamanders to be finished with whatever they're doing before they notice me standing there. You get used to it. And it's rather entertaining." She came closer, another kind of mischievous smile on her lips, this time. "Care for a drink? Between future sisters-in-law?"

Rose was certain she looked like a fish out of its tank, opening and closing her mouth before she managed to nod. "Let me pay for my books and I'll be right there."

"Good." Leta gracefully got down the stairs, earning herself some frankly odd glances from the other patrons, and Rose followed, still half-dazed.

Well well… Leta Lestrange. Here we are.