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 thirty-three: In which Newt surprises Rose in the best way

Time ticked by, agonisingly slow. Tina, Queenie and Jacob left for New-York in late September, after the Ministry for Magic agreed to let them go. Yusuf and Nagini found a small flat in Diagon Alley, above one of the smallest pubs in England, and the wizard started working at the junk shop situated in the same street. He kept Newt and the others posted, but so far, it felt like his life had taken a better turn.

Nagini visited Newt often. Or at least often-ish. Her condition as a Maledictus was, for all intents and purposes, making her a pariah among witches and wizards, because she had not been able to attend school and was not authorized to keep a job. Instead, she liked to take care of his creatures, and had taken a shine to Bunty, whose bubbly character was doing marvels to her moods. She had had to transform into her snake form a grand total of two times during that last month and a half and, always, out of Rose's way, so as to not trigger a panic attack she'd been told had more to do with 'snakes' than 'Nagini' herself.

Newt and Rose had started writing their joined book. About an hour or two each day, they'd be seen in the dining-room, pouring over notes and choosing what to talk about in what order. Then, they retreated to their lonely bedrooms or office to write down what had been suggested. Newt worked best alone. Rose didn't mind.

So far, they had an entire chapter ready on the uses of hair and scales. They'd started tackling the much more extensive one on venoms, and by mid-October, they had only scratched the surface.

Rose found working on a book with the most famous magizoologist in the world exhilarating. Also, quite frankly, scary, because her name – albeit a 'fake' one – would be up there on the cover next to his, and it could very possibly result in another anachronism that could change too much.

She tried not to think about what she might have changed by saving Queenie and Graves. She tried not to imagine that it made the future worse than it already was.

She also tried not to think about Leta and that memory she'd left her. But, try as she may, the brunette almost always invaded her dreams, repeating over and over that she knew Rose loved Theseus, that he wouldn't ever do anything about it, and that she had to help him find love again.

On the morning of the 19th October, Rose and Newt had once again met in the dining-room to discuss their notes from the previous day, and to decide how to start an entry on the properties of Murtlap saliva. Nagini had arrived an hour prior, heading downstairs to help Bunty babysit the ever-growing Baby Nifflers. The house was quiet.

Until someone Apparated right in the middle of the room, startling witch and wizard and making their notes fly around the room in a gush of air.

The giggles and laughter that followed the Apparition, however, told them to stand down and lower the wands they'd both raised at once. There, in their living-room, stood Queenie and Jacob, the witch having pulled her fiancé into a Side-Along.

Rose was the first to jump to her feet and to hurry to their friends. "Queen! Jacob! I didn't know you were coming!" She hugged them both tight, feeling elated at having them close again.

The blonde giggled again, and moved to hug Newt, who took it reluctantly. "We wanted to surprise you! Surprise!" She'd let her hair grow longer, and wore it a bit below her shoulder, gently curling but devoid of any flourishes.

Newt smiled after he'd clasped forearms with Jacob. "Are you here for good, then?"

Jacob nodded, a huge grin settling on his face. "I sold my bakery, and we made enough money out o' it that I can open one over here!"

Rose's smile mirrored his. "That's amazing!"

"Which also means," Queenie took over, placing her hand in her man's, "that we can look for a house, or an apartment, close by!"

Rose's eyes glinted. "And that we can finally start planning that wedding!"

Newt's own smile widened. "Oh right! Have you chosen a date, yet?"

Queenie and Jacob shared a glance, and nodded. "Right after Christmas. 26th December. A little more than a year after we first met." The blonde leaned to kiss her lovely baker on the cheek, and he blushed a bit.

"That's even more amazing!" Rose shouted, before drawing both of them into a group hug once more. "I can't wait!"

Queenie and Jacob's happiness was contagious, and Newt started chuckling too, the atmosphere the lightest it'd been since September.

They spent the rest of that day asking their friends what had happened in New-York and recounting what had occurred in London, their notes forgotten on the dining-room floor…

About three weeks later, on the 5th November, Rose woke up a year older. She stared up at her bedroom's ceiling, feeling like burying herself back into the covers to ignore that day altogether, along with the emotions it roused in her.

Her first birthday without her family. One of many, she guessed, because every day that passed made it clearer and clearer that she'd never be able to go back to them.

She cried into her pillow, 22 years-old and broken-hearted as never before.

After a few hours of idling and losing herself in painful memories, Rose decided she'd had enough, and took a dose of Calming Draught before getting dressed to go out. She left a quick note for Newt, who had had to spend the entire night checking on the Graphorn's female which had gotten into labour, and headed out.

Visiting Theseus at work wasn't, in retrospect, the best idea she'd had to avoid memories of her family, but the potion she'd taken – and brewed herself – would fend off any panic she'd feel upon setting foot in the Ministry again.

She'd checked on the elder Scamander brother several times since September. He'd stayed at Newt's place for longer than they'd all expected, eleven days, but had finally had to go back to work and, she supposed, to his empty apartment. Rose knew, from Newt and from Theseus' colleagues, that he spent as much time as possible at work, sleeping in empty meeting rooms or not sleeping at all. She knew why, but had not breached the subject with him yet, not feeling like it was her place to do so.

It was the seventh time now that Rose used the ancient underground staircase to get into the familiar Ministry. The fifth time she'd taken a Calming Draught before even crossing the barrier. Once, she'd decided to take it with her but to see if it was needed. She hadn't made it to the lifts before downing the vial.

She got onto the First Floor easily, being stopped only once by a woman who asked her how Newt fared. Apparently, she was a fan. Rose answered her questions as generically as she could, and headed straight for the Aurors' office, which, thankfully, was one of the few places she knew that had changed drastically in the century that followed.

Theseus wasn't at his desk but, to be fair, neither were most of his colleagues. Even Mr Travers' office was empty, door left ajar to show a vacant chair and a desk filled with papers.

The sole person present was his new secretary, a curvy, severe-looking witch by the name of River. She was used to Rose visiting, and silently conjured a cup of tea for when the red-head reached her desk.

"Good morning, River. Where is everyone?"

"Miss Rose," the sandy-blonde woman answered curtly, gesturing her to take a seat, which she did. "They're in a meeting. Should be over in a few." Her brown eyes narrowed. "Grindelwald might have been sighted."

Rose put down the tea without having even taken a sip, eyes wide. Not an Auror, she wasn't supposed to know anything about what the Department did or found out; but Mr Travers had been pliant on the matter of the Dark Wizard. The Scamanders had fought him twice, so they were entitled to know at least about him. "Where?" she hissed, already worried about the answer.

"South Africa. But Mr Travers doesn't think the intel is reliable."

Rose pursed her lips. No, South Africa was odd. It was one of the least populated countries in the world, wizarding folk-wise. Even in the 2020s, it had one of the lowest rates on the planet. And it remained unexplained. "I think he's right. He's playing us again."

River sighed, taking a sip of her own tea before changing the subject. "Mister Theseus was away a lot these past few days. Got out of the office in the middle of the day, to go on 'errands'. I wonder if he's seeing anyone…"

Rose almost spit her tea. Theseus? Seeing someone? Barely two months since his fiancée had died? She doubted it. But his going on 'errands' several times a day was such a stellar change to his usual routine of staying put in the Aurors' office day or night that it did bear question. "I don't think he is. But that is strange…"

"You know better than I do, being his sister and all…" Rose felt the need to roll her eyes, but refrained. River managed to subtly question her about Theseus' romantic status each time they spoke together. Of course, most single witches in London were interested as well; but it was just so….soon!

So Rose didn't answer, and stood from the chair, turning back to her brother's desk. "Do you really think they'll be done soon? Otherwise, I can come back later…"

"No, they'll be done soon. They've been gone almost an hour, and Mr Travers is very precise about the time allotted to meetings." That he was. The man was precise about a lot of things…

As if they'd heard her through the walls, the door to the Department opened, and each and every Auror on duty that day filed in, conversing together in what looked like angry tones, which confirmed Rose's suspicions that the intel had been fake.

Travers and Theseus entered together, the first with a determined look on his face as he addressed the second, who looked much wearier. Then again, Theseus had looked exhausted for two months, now…

"Ah, Miss Rose, I was wondering why we hadn't seen you this week yet," the Head of Department joked as he made his way to his office.

"Mr Travers," she answered with a small shake of her head. "If my presence is inconvenient, you can always say so."

He shook his head too, with a small smirk. "Nonsense. Your presence always lifts the mood." He threw a knowing glance at his men – and women – before going back inside his office, dismissing Rose at the same time.

She was used to it by then. What she wasn't used to were the heated glances sent her way by some of the Aurors each time they saw her. Some of them she even knew were married. Ugh.

"Rose," Theseus greeted her, surprising her with looking rather pleased to see her. "How are you?"

"Tired," she said, not elaborating further as she followed him to his desk. She fell into the chair facing him, almost petulantly. "I wish there was something exciting to do around here." Theseus raised an eyebrow, prompting her to explain herself. "Don't get me wrong, it's its own kind of exciting to write a book with Newton, but…we're always at the house. I need air."

He nodded, glancing around with a dark look on his face. She understood it: he was cooped up in the Ministry too. By his own designs, but still…

So, she asked, huffing the question so quickly she thought he wouldn't hear it right, "Doyouwanttogrababite?"

He looked back at her, visibly pondering, before slowly nodding. "Perhaps that's a good idea. Diagon?" Rose was stunned by his answer, having already steeled herself for a rebuttal, but she wasn't about to ask him if he was sure.

So she shrugged. "Unless you have a better idea."

"In fact, I have." He stood, but looked uneasy. "Do you mind going to Muggle London? I don't really like being stared at wherever I go."

Rose stood as well, a small sad smile on her lips. She understood the feeling better than he realised. Her mother, having been appointed Minister for Magic, could barely walk two paces without being assaulted by passers-by eager to talk to her or just to take a look at the Brightest Witch of her Age War Hero Minister. "Theseus…" she dropped her voice, "why would I mind?"

The corners of his lips tugged up a bit, but he didn't smile. "Most witches and wizards don't like crossing into Muggle London."

"Well, I do," she answered, jutting her chin up. "My mother was Muggle-born, after all."

He hadn't known, she didn't think, for his grey-green eyes widened. Then, he gestured for her to leave the room, and looked back to signify his partner that he'd gone for lunch with his sister.

Rose's heart beat faster all the way to Charing Cross Road, and it had nothing to do with panic…

If Wizarding 1920s London was already a stark difference from what she'd known, it was nothing compared to the Muggle side of the city, which seemed to have evolved in a matter of weeks rather than a century. Most of what she saw that day belonged in a 19th century museum, and the scarce number of cars driving past was swallowed in a vexing swirl of oil-lampposts; carriages and crinolines. She immediately thought that Downton Abbey couldn't possibly have been that wrong, then chided herself for being stupid to compare her knowledge of History to what was shown in a TV show…

Theseus brought her to a lovely teashop where he apparently was a regular, and introduced his 'sister' to a waitress who was making moon eyes at him. Rose was rather displeased, but also amused that his charm even crossed into the Muggle world, where he wasn't famous by any means.

They ate omelettes, keeping it simple, and sipped on tea, not talking, most of the time, but sharing some things from their daily life all the same. He was doing better, she noticed, even if, often, his eyes would glaze over as he lost himself in his grief. All in all, it was a rather pleasing lunch break.

When she got home in the middle of the afternoon, though, Rose couldn't possibly have anticipated the sight that welcomed her once she stepped inside.

In true Muggle fashion, everyone that had been hiding in the shadows jumped into view, startling her to death as they shouted 'Happy Birthday, Rose!'.

Her eyes flew from person to person, clocking Queenie and Jacob, obviously, but also Yusuf, Nagini, Bunty, Professor Dumbledore, Theseus – who she'd just left at the entrance of the Ministry, the lying conniving bastard – and… "Tina!"

The brunette smiled widely before engulfing her in a hug. "Surprise! Happy birthday, Rosie."

Rose had long since stopped trying to prevent her friends from using that blasted nickname. In a way, she was even glad someone was perpetuating her Dad's silly pet-name. She hugged her friend back, then pulled away, a wide, dazed smile on her lips. "How did you know?"

Newt, who'd been in the kitchen up until that very moment, stepped closer, a matter-of-factly look on his face. "Queenie saw it in your head. Told me. I told them."

Rose stared at Queenie, who shrugged cheekily. Rose promised herself to scold her later. For the moment, she had her friends around her, and she was happy to celebrate her birthday, while, several hours prior, she had felt miserable about it.

Her brow furrowed when she realised something else, and before Newt could hand her whatever gift he'd bought her, she asked "Wait a second. How could you make sure I'd be out of the house long enough for you to plan this all?"

He smiled mischievously. "I knew you'd go see Theseus. You hadn't gone in five days and you never go this long without checking on him. Just asked him to make sure you didn't return for a while."

Rose felt an embarrassed blush rise to her cheeks, but she avoided looking at the incriminating wizard. Damn Newt and his observational skills.

He then finally handed her the package he was holding, which felt like it was a painting for some sort: she could feel the frame. "What's this?" she dumbly asked.

He smiled softly, this time. "It's from all of us. Queenie helped. Bunty did most the work." The young witch blushed at the hidden compliment, smitten, as usual, with her boss.

"Thanks," Rose croaked before carefully unwrapping the gift.

It was a painting. One that had her gasp, stumble back, and erupt in uncontrollable sobs.

There, staring back at her, waving, smiling and laughing, were her parents, and Hugo. As she remembered them the best: her father having wrapped an arm around her mother's shoulders and drawing her closer to his lanky form; her mother rolling her eyes affectionately; her brother jumping up and down, a massive grin on his lips as he waved at his sister.

Someone gently took the frame from her to place it on the coffee table, and Rose sat on the sofa, still sobbing, staring at the picture as if it was the most precious thing in the world.

"Newt," she managed, heart swelling with emotion, "how did you-?"

"Queenie knew what they looked like: she described them to Bunty who drew them. Then Theseus and I brought the drawing to a painter Professor Dumbledore told us about."

Rose's gaze went to each person he was mentioning, love washing over her stronger and stronger still. These people she'd met only months prior had done this for her…

It was the most precious painting in the world…

So she launched herself into Newt's arms, hugging him as tight as she could to make him understand how much she loved him for gifting her with such a priceless thing. "Newton Scamander, you truly are the best brother I could have ever wished for…"