LUPIN stifled a growl of annoyance that was in actuality manifesting itself as fear, as his mind was preoccupied on how he'd left things with Hope, praying to Merlin and anyone else up there in the afterlife who'd hear his silent plea, that she would forgive him by the time he returned.
If it were at all possible, the dark Welsh forest that he'd rescued Hope from was now even darker, he observed, opening his eyes the moment he and Newt's feet touched solid ground again. He exhaled a breath of relief, the air leaving his lips as a puff of cold vapor, signaling just how cold it had gotten since the temperatures outside dropped.
"Mr. Scamander? Wh—what do you think I—I should say to her if I…if I see her? She—she didn't want to look at me, Newt, you should have seen the way she looked at me," Lyall managed to stammer out after clearing his throat, causing Newt to halt in his tracks, stopping short and glancing back over his shoulder at his young protégé.
"Well, then why don't you try to get her to look again?" he asked, his shy, sometimes timid voice that reminded Lyall so often of his own mannerisms, it was almost painful for him, and yet it was slightly concerned. He was not quite certain he had ever seen the young thirty-year-old this flustered over a young Muggle woman before. Newt paused to scratch at his chin contemplatively, lost in thought. No.
Scratch that. He'd never seen Lupin flustered over a woman before, period. Mr. Scamander turned at the waist slightly, shoving his hands in the pockets of his favorite blue trench coat and was just able to make out the young man's dark silhouette just beside an old gnarled oak tree.
Grumbling to himself under his breath, Newt felt his fingers curl around the handle of his wand as he forced his wand hand from the relative warmth and comfort of his pocket, pointing his wand out in front of him, murmuring, "Lumos!"
And was instantly rewarded for his efforts of uttering the Wand-Lighting Charm when a burst of white light erupted from the tip of his wand, bathing Lupin's already pallid features in the almost blinding white light.
The edges of Newt's lips curled upward into a soft smirk as Lyall instantly raised his arms to shield his face before Lupin whirled around to face completely away from Newt.
Only when Mr. Scamander steadily lowered the tip of his wand, letting his wand arm fall limply to his side did Lyall slowly turn back around to regard his mentor, though not before shooting Newt a rather pointed and annoyed look.
Once again, Lyall thought bitterly, his heart ached, only this time there was an added layer of salt on top of his already tender heart, and recollecting on how Hope had looked at him, such unbridled fear and shock and terror in her dark chocolate brown eyes sent a wave of regret through his heartstrings.
That was…not how he would have chosen to reveal the truth to Hope, in a moment of anger as he had.
It took Lupin a few minutes to move, to bring himself to brave the strain on his lonesome soul, but instead, he knew that he could not dwell upon the heartache or the same, and just looking at Newt's face should have been more than enough for him to see it.
Regardless of the pain, it caused him, Lyall was still having a hard time accepting that it had happened. He had told Hope Howell the truth, and she had reacted rather poorly.
He could not change it, and he knew that he was doomed to never know the blessings of what perhaps might have been a beautiful friendship, or perhaps, dare Lyall to bring himself to think this next part, maybe…maybe even love.
Lyall's hazel eyes widened as he quickly realized what he was doing to himself, his chest swelling and constricting, rendering the poor man feeling very near hysterics at this point. With that reality fueling him, Lupin finally exhaled a shaking breath and willed himself to take a few more steps forward until he had caught up to where Newt was standing, waiting patiently like a polite older wizard, waiting for Lyall to speak about whatever was bothering his mind.
"Are you all right, Lupin?" Newt asked kindly, his voice harboring no hint of judgment or blame towards his protégé, which almost made Lyall's guilt in his chest tighten even more, causing the flustered younger wizard to down-cast his eyes and instead look towards the pile of fallen leaves at their feet as the pair of wizards began wandering the forest in search for the man who had tried to attack Hope earlier.
"Y—no," Lyall answered immediately, a little too quickly for his liking, feeling his cheeks start to burn as he actively averted his gaze. He had previously had all that he wanted to say planned out in his mind to ask Newt for his advice on how to approach making amends with Miss Howell, but the moment he felt the burn of Newt's piercing stare, his tongue immediately felt thick, like heavy clay in his mouth.
"I do beg your pardon?" Newt prodded kindly, seeming to pick up on the younger man's initial hesitance, and decided perhaps it was best to put Lyall out of his misery and coax the younger wizard into saying what he wanted. "You're wanting to know what to say to her when we get back?" he questioned, looking towards Lyall with raised eyebrows, a look of alarm on his face as he looked at him.
Lupin mutely nodded, not sure what else to say to Newt. He took a deep breath to steady himself as he looked about the Welsh forest, his eyes making a quick scan of the woods. No sign of the stranger from earlier, which worried him.
What if he'd already regained consciousness and had Disapparated, if he did happen to be a wizard, though Newt had rummaged through the man's coat pockets earlier and hadn't been able to find any wand on him.
"Lyall?" came Newt's voice, effectively pulling Lyall from the momentary distraction of his thoughts about that—that brute, who'd so savagely tried to torture Hope for information, and would have done so much worse to her had Newt not arrived on the scene precisely when he had.
Lyall's head jerked sharply upwards to look at his mentor, and the younger man couldn't help the surge of affection that coursed through his bloodstream and into his heart for the older wizard standing in front of him. Newt was looking at Lupin with a look of deep concern and worry.
His brow creased as his grip tightened on his wand handle. It was no wonder Mr. Scamander worried for him.
He had saved a young Muggle woman's life from unspeakable torment, only to be thanked for it by causing her to completely lose her composure and have a breakdown in front of him, reacting poorly to his truth.
How exactly was he supposed to feel after something like that? It was even more disconcerting that Lyall's only emotions he could seem to focus on was anger and rage.
When Lyall did not immediately respond, Newt tried again. "Lyall?" his quiet voice came again, and this time, just a brief hint of unease broke through the calm tone of the man's normally quiet and rather thoughtful voice.
"No, Newt, I—I'm not," Lyall whispered in a hoarse voice as he shook his head, his gaze fixated on the tree line in front of them as the pair of wizards made their way slowly through the forest, their eyes constantly looking to the left and right for any sign of the stranger in the woods, of Hope's attacker.
Again, the men were silent for several minutes. Lyall's jaw tensed until he could stand the silence between them no longer. "Newt, you—you saw how Hope looked at me."
Newt's face fell, though he nodded deliberately in understanding, recognizing that, in just a short amount of time, just as his Tina had once done to him all those years ago on the streets of New York following that mix-up with his briefcase accidentally getting swapped out with Jacob's, that the young brunette Muggle woman back home was having a profound effect on the Ministry employee, whether or not Lyall was yet made aware of it, Newt didn't know for sure.
Only time itself would be that judge of it. Lyall offered Newt a small, weak smile, though both men knew it was strained and not at all a genuine smile from him. They could see it did not reach the man's brown eyes.
"Then why don't you get Miss Howell to look again?" the older wizard prodded gently, his gaze unabashed as Lyall looked up somewhat sternly at his colleague and friend, holding Newt captive in his hardened stare that was pained.
Lyall furrowed his brows into a frown that deepened, causing the corners of his mouth to turn down into a groove, creating lines upon his previously smooth forehead.
He doubted he could even work up the courage to face Hope again, let alone get her to see that he was not a bad man. Lyall knew what others at the Ministry, and in the wizarding community in general, saw whenever they looked at him.
They happened to see a clever wizard in his thirtieth year, a strong, sensitive, caring young man who happened to be more comfortable in dealing with many manners of Dark creatures like boggarts and Dementors than around women.
It had taken him several years to come to terms with this fact about himself, and Lyall had long since stopped trying to change other peoples' perceptions of him.
Hope Howell, the beautiful girl with the wonderful laugh…she deserved better than him. Lyall let out a tired sigh, though his attention was caught by the sound of a faint crunch of a twig and leaf underfoot. He startled, whirling around to his left, his wand at the ready, poised to attack, and let out a shaking breath of relief when it was only Newt.
The older man was a few paces in front of him, kneeling into a low crouch to get a better look at the indentation of what looked to Lyall like a boot print, he realized with a heavy heart as the damned corded muscle gave a painful little lurch. It was not his or Newt's footprint, which meant it could only belong to…to him.
"Whoever he was, the man from earlier went this way, Lyall, we have to hurry if we want to catch up to him. For all we know, he might have already Disapparated," Newt murmured, lowering his voice as his usual kind and tranquil face went a little bit slack in surprise as he raised his hand not clutching onto his wand, pointing towards the northeast, just a little bit further. "Be careful, Lyall," he warned, heaving a soft groan as he forced himself to his feet, staggering a bit as he righted his posture, reaching out for a groping tree limb nearby to steady himself, only for Lupin to shot forward and latch onto his arm to help him. "Thank you." He shot a disgruntled look towards the ground before looking down at his own two feet. "That would have been a nasty fall. Guess it's a good thing you were here."
Newt let out a sigh and looked towards Lyall, a rather stern look on his lined, weathered features. "I don't know what happened to Miss Howell tonight, but it's clear to me we need to find this man, and fast. She is certainly welcome to stay with Tina and me for as long as she is in need to, Mr. Lupin, you should know this now, sir."
Lyall blinked before proceeding to lower his head in a somewhat strange bowing manner at his kind, generous offer.
"Th—thank you, Newt, thank you, but I was planning on taking her home in the morning if she's feeling well enough. I—I don't want her stressed out by all of this. What h-happened to her is more than enough," he stammered, hoping he didn't misunderstand his meaning.
Lyall parted his lips open slightly to speak when yet again, the sound of the crunching of leaves underfoot caught his attention and caused his hearing to perk up at the noise.
Whirling around on his heels, both his and Newt's wands raised steadily, Lyall felt a cold chill of fear waft up and down his spine and to his toes as once more, for the second time in one night, he found himself face-to-face with the burly wizard that had tried to brutally attack Miss Howell.
Lyall drew in a sharp breath that pained his lungs, though before he could react, Newt let out a barely audible grunt and quickly shoved Lyall behind the trunk of an elm tree.
"Wh—what? Merlin's Beard, it's him, I'll—I'll kill him!" he stammered, gnashing his teeth somewhat defensively as a surge of anger coursed through his veins, remembering hearing Hope's desperate scream, feeling Newt stiffen beside him in anger, though as Lyall made to step back out from behind the tree behind which Newt had unceremoniously shoved him, reacting quickly and with lightning speed, more speed than Lyall thought capable of the old wizard, Newt drew himself back behind the trunk of the tree alongside Lyall.
Newt took hold of Lupin's forearms, pressing him hard against the wide bough of the tree that concealed both their slender forms from the other wizard's approaching form. He prevented him from escaping.
"No, Lupin!" He hissed down at him, trying to keep his voice from drawing any attention and giving away his and Lupin's location to the Dark wizard. "Charging out there half-cocked and angry will not help Miss Howell, Lyall. You'll only make matters worse for her. Let me handle it."
Quiet, his eyes seemed to say, as the aging sixty-two-year-old wizard shot Lupin a pointed look with his green eyes.
Lupin narrowed his eyes and glared up at Newt, which in it of itself was rather intimidating, Newt thought, but Scamander knew he was not about to be phased by his protégé's aggression and sometimes volatile temper. His light hazel eyes flashed with emotion that Newt couldn't place. Anger? Concern? Desperation? Pride? What was it?!
"Newt, I can't just stand out here and do nothing!" he growled lightly, his voice practically trembling with emotion. Which, Newt was not entirely sure, nor did his mind have time to ponder it, as his ears perked up at the sound of the hulking stranger stalking his way forward. "She—she tried to risk her life by—by luring him away! I can't just—" he started to protest, but Newt cut him off.
"Just what?!" the older wizard retorted in hushed tones, his voice clipped and sharp. "Risk your life in return for hers, Mr. Lupin? Then what will become of all this, Lyall? It will just be a consistent, tiresome cycle of rescue and sacrifice. Do you think Miss Howell wants that for you, Lupin? In any case…you should allow me to handle it. I do not think the man knows you, therefore you have the advantage of surprise on your side, my friend, but me," he paused, not wanting to finish his statement, but knew he had to. Newt sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before speaking again. "Me, he will find I am not so easily swayed by intimidation and his threats," he growled in a low voice.
Newt allowed his voice to trail off as an idea suddenly came to her. It was somewhat reckless and rather dangerous, but it was nothing he knew he couldn't handle.
"Lyall?" This time, the older wizard's voice was stronger, firmer, laced with just a hint of steel that told Lyall he must listen. "I want you to promise me something, my friend."
The simple statement was just enough to throw the younger wizard off guard and distract Lupin for a moment, but just in case, Newt kept his pressure firm on the man's forearms, not wanting to relinquish his grip until he received sworn word from Lyall to make good on his word.
"Wh—what is it?" Lyall replied, his voice now returning to its normal, gentle pitch, and thank Merlin for that.
However, a hint of questioning and confusion lingered within. Newt nodded slowly and took in a deep breath.
"Don't you dare move from this spot. Stayhere and promise me that you will not leave the shadows, my friend," he begged, imploring the man, and hoping Lupin would listen to him. He had his own reasons for doing this.
Lyall felt his brown eyes widen at the aging wizard's solemn and piercing gaze. Newt Scamander's green eyes burned with a fiery intensity, the likes of which he had not seen in the Magizoologist before.
A look that immediately made Lupin, and he was a man who did not scare easily, want to shrink away from the hard gaze Newt was giving him. However, considering his back was pressed firmly against the trunk of the tree, the bark digging into the material of his sweater and pricking at his back, he could not pull away from Newt's surprisingly strong grip, surprising for a man of his age and physical condition.
"I…I promise," Lyall begrudgingly agreed, though the hint of displeasure that had seeped its way to the surface of Lyall's quiet and reserved tone was evident to old Newt.
Newt nodded silently by way of response. Good. The man had promised him, now the time had come to see if Mr. Lupin respected him enough to honor his wishes. Newt closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling through his nose, and then softly and slowly moved away from the old tree.
The surge of panic that constricted Lyall's throat and almost rendering him unable to breathe was utterly overwhelming. Lyall resisted the urge to seize on tufts of his light brown hair and scream in protest at this very idea.
But it was already too late. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach as he heard this man, this Dark wizard, let out a deep, low rumbling growl from deep within his burly chest.
Lyall was unable to repress the violent shiver that clawed its way down his spine and pricked its way into his heart.
Questions attacked his mind, but Mr. Scamander shot him another admonishing, if not slightly scathing look, silently warning Lyall not to intervene or step out from behind his hiding place. As slowly and as cautiously as he could, Lyall carefully peeked out from behind the corner, drawing in a breath of frigid cold air that caused him to let out a hiss.
"You," the hulking stranger sneered, the corner of his lip curling upwards as if the brutish fiend smelled something rotten, eyeballing Newt as if the old wizard were little more than a piece of dirt or a pebble stuck to the bottom of his shoe. "You were the wizard who attacked me earlier, weren't you, Mr. Scamander?"
The man's hairy face darkened as if a shadow had suddenly fallen over him.
"Why?" Without waiting for Newt to answer, he looked around to the left and right with an amused smirk and a curt nod of his head as he turned his sharp gaze back towards Newt. "What happened that truly delish looking girl, Scamander? The poor little dove was a liability in these dark woods all alone," here, he mockingly pretended to shiver. He stuck out his lip in a pout, feigning a hurt look. "Why on earth did you send the pretty little thing away?"
Newt simply proceeded to brush his hands on the front of his favorite bright blue coat and let out what sounded to Lyall like a tired sounding sigh. "Do I know you, sir?" he asked pleasantly in a tone that Lyall felt this cretin did not deserve, though Newt was unfailingly polite, even to those in this world who Lupin felt did not deserve it. Like him.
The stranger let out a noise that sounded like a cross between a grunt and a snort as he rolled his eyes at Newt, not providing him with an answer as to what his name was.
"Would have been easier on the girl if she would have just told me she was traveling with Ministry scum," Here, the man spat the last two words as though it were poison on his tongue. "I don't know what the little dove thought it was such a big secret. I know who you are, Scamander. Only you could love a beast," he said, baring sharp teeth.
His piercing eyes of blue drifted downward until they settled upon Newt's wand, raised only slightly, not quite at his chest.
"Lay down your wand, Scamander, and maybe I'll think about not killing you," he snapped in a voice devoid of any kind of emotion other than a sickening sadistic glee at the thought of causing hurt and pain to other people.
Newt shook his head as he glowered at the taller stranger. There was no way on Merlin's green earth he would ever relinquish control of his wand. He knew better than to hope this wizard, whoever he was, was capable of anything other than malice. And of course, the offer the man had given, even if it were sincere, was simply not good enough.
Newt was not about to give the man a chance to escape. He needed to be brought into the Ministry for questioning.
Newt Scamander was a kind man, and a loyal friend to those he cared for, and if there was one thing the aging wizard did not tolerate, was violence against his friends.
Though he hardly knew Miss Howell, for that matter, it was enough that he could tell Lyall was growing to care for the girl. Considering Lyall was something of his unofficial protégé at the Ministry of Magic, that, in Newt's mind, made Miss Howell his friend now, too. And Newt was a man who stood by his friends and swore to protect them.
More to the point, besides, Newt did not think himself a man capable of forgiving such heinous acts, especially against a poor, helpless woman wandering alone, lost in the woods, and a young Muggle at that, incapable of using magic or really any other means to try to protect herself.
Newt made an odd little sniffing noise as he looked at the man across the forest clearing in disapproval. "If this woman you are so intent on finding is in fact, still in this area, you will not touch her sir, for she is now under my protection, sir," he answered in a clipped and cold tone.
The other man let out a low, warning growl from deep within his throat, immediately plunging a curled, hairy claw into the pocket of his black coat and drew his own crude-looking wand and parried Newt's Stunning Spell he'd sent.
Newt wordlessly waved his wand again, managing to slice a shallow, superficial looking gash in the other man's broad chest as it attempted to dodge Newt's rain of jinxes he was hurling down on the man like kingdom come. Lyall could only watch, standing rooted and transfixed to his spot. Lyall doubted he could move out from behind the tree right now even if he wanted to, the spells were passing so quickly it became hard to keep up with what was happening.
The larger wizard hissed in pain and swung back, sending what looked like a well-aimed Stinging Jinx in Newt's direction, a merciless, heavy blow that narrowly missed Newt's shoulder. The spell would have hit its intended target, had Scamander not dodged out of the way at the last possible second, though unfortunately, Lyall chose that exact moment to summon his strength to move again and leaped out from behind the tree, his own wand drawn, eager to assist his mentor in whatever way he could. He let out a startled cry of pain as the Stinging Jinx hit his right eye.
"Lupin!" Newt cried out in both fear and annoyance at the younger wizard's attempt to intervene, but Lyall couldn't hear him well enough. His mentor's voice sounded muffled, faint, as though the older man were trying to speak to him via a Bubble-Head Charm from underwater, and Lyall was the one stuck on dry land.
A horrible ringing filled his fatigued eardrums. His legs felt shaky like he had been hit with a full-bind Jelly Legs Curse and could not support his body weight as he felt himself drop to his knees, yet his head was the only thing that felt rather heavy. It hurt.
He arched his back as the pain of the stranger's Stinging Jinx he'd hit him with was rushing through his face like an igniting fire. His eyes squeezed closed as his face contorted.
Never had Lyall experienced such horrible pain in his life, this was the first time in his life the thirty-year-old wizard had been on the receiving end of a Stinging Jinx.
Lyall could feel his head spinning ultimately as the skin near his left eye and browbone rapidly started to swell. His jaw clenched tightly shut, molars grinding, Lyall fumbled and dropped his wand, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling on it in thick tufts helped to ease the pain a little.
Slowly, the pain faded, his hand released his brown locks, trembling with anger at not having faster reflexes and allowing himself to get hit in such a vulnerable, open position, and a slight twinge of fear upon hearing the collective yells of both the stranger and his friend, and not being able to discern for himself what was going on around.
Sweat trickled down his back and the front and sides of his temples as his breathing slowly went back to normal.
Newt, unbeknownst to Lyall, as Lupin's vision was still struggling to return to normal and rid itself of the black spots dancing at the edges of his vision and threatening to blind him, was struggling. Newt gritted his teeth as he aimed a Full-Body-Bind Curse at the hulking man again.
But it was such a heavy, wide blow that Newt's jinx swung well past the stranger dressed entirely in black, which gave Newt a much-needed window of opportunity. While his opponent was distracted, Newt finally saw the chance he needed.
Quickly, he raised his wand and pointed it squarely at the man's broad and burly, hairy chest, though just before the spell could reach its intended target, the man's quick reflexes sprung into motion. He turned on the heel of his black leather boot and with a loud, resounding crack! reverberated through the forest, Disapparated.
Breathing out a tired, frustrated, but ultimately relieved breath, Newt glowered with narrowed eyes at the precise spot where the towering, intimidating stranger had vanished, before tearing his gaze away from the location and returning his attention back towards his protégé.
Lupin was struggling to get to his feet and see, the area above his browbone now rather a painful-looking, swollen contusion, rendering the poor chap almost unrecognizable, tainting his otherwise handsome features into something truly hideous.
"Mr. Lupin?" Newt asked in a soft voice, not quite sure how to react, hoping his voice sounded and remained calm as he gingerly approached Lyall's position where he stood with an arm outstretched. He was sure the man's temper was threatening to implode.
Not only had Lupin bit hit with a truly nasty-looking Stinging Jinx, but they had failed in their objective to locate said stranger and incapacitate him.
He was gone. Escaped. And he was definitely a bigger problem the two of them would have to deal with later on.
Newt bounded forward on his heels and shot out an arm that he latched his fingers around Lyall Lupin's forearm.
The older wizard closed his eyes and let out a shaking breath. It made him so angry to think of the stranger hurting the poor, defenseless Muggle woman who would be spending the night under his roof, and now his protégé, too!
The brutish fiend had absolutely no other reason for it beyond the fact that he seemed like the type who enjoyed inflicting pain and torture upon weaker individuals and watching them suffer for it, relishing in hearing the screams.
Newt continued moving his hand upward from Lyall's arm, reaching out with the pad of his fingers to gingerly inspect the contusion over Lyall's browbone.
He took another steadying breath, for he could not allow his anger that their would-be-captive had escaped to prevent him from doing what really mattered, and right now, ensuring Lyall wasn't injured further was his priority.
Though the moment the pad of his fingers just barely grazed over the surface of the rather large-looking contusion that had caused Lyall's face to rapidly swell, Lupin let out a pained whimper and jerked away rather violently from Newt's grip. "No…don't touch me," he gasped in a small, heartbreaking voice as he scrambled away from Newt.
The famed aging Magizoologist soon found himself staring back with widened eyes at the younger wizard, whose wide, terror-filled eyes, well, the one good eye he could still see out of that hadn't been affected by the Stinging Jinx, back at him. For a moment, it seemed as though Lyall couldn't quite make out what it was that he was looking at through his hazy and quite lopsided vision.
The poor young man was looking beside himself with anger, rage, and just a brief flicker of fear, little more than a shadow, but it darted across his pale features, nonetheless.
"Don't touch me!" Lupin hollered in a shaking, weakened voice as he shakily raised his wand, pointing it squarely at Newt's chest, as though preparing to fend Scamander off.
Newt froze, raising his wandless hands up in front of him in a show of surrender, furrowing his brows into a frown. The younger wizard did not seem to have a grasp on what he was seeing, just who it was that he was talking to. Perhaps his eyes had not yet adjusted from the worst effects of the jinx, and as a result, was impairing his vision.
Mr. Scamander cautiously took two half-steps forward, still keeping his arms raised to show Lyall he meant no harm. "Lyall, it's me. It's Newt," Newt spoke up in a collected, steady voice, even though he felt anything but.
In fact, he was quite furious, not at Lupin, of course, but at the fact that the brutish fiend who preyed on innocent young women had escaped their grasp and was now loose.
He wanted to reach out his hand and offer some form of physical comfort to his protégé, but in no way did he want to scare Lyall further, so he kept his distance and continued speaking reassuring words. "He—he got away, Lyall. I—I'm sorry. But we'll deal with him later. He won't hurt you or Miss Howell anymore, not if I can help it, Mr. Lupin."
"N—Newt?" Lyall managed to gasp out in an uncertain voice, before practically staggering forward, and would have likely fallen flat on his face if Newt hadn't shot forward and wound one of his arms around Lupin's shoulders, heaving a small groan as he helped the younger wizard right himself.
"It's all right, Lupin," Newt murmured soothingly, patting the younger wizard on the back, involuntarily flinching the moment Lyall lifted his chin, jutting out slightly in order to meet Newt's gaze.
By Merlin, the contusion over his browbone was…something else, and not in a good way. He swallowed thickly down hard past the lump in his throat, before affectionately giving his arm a pat.
"Are you well enough to walk, my friend? That is to say, do you think you could hold onto my arm long enough for me to escort you back home? There's nothing to do for that Stinging Jinx but wait for it to wear off, I'm afraid," he murmured apologetically, flinching as he noticed Lupin's face darken.
There was a strain in Newt's voice. Lyall fell silent, able to suggest that Newt Scamander was a bit shaken up by having to duel the stranger that had now attacked all three of them in the span of one night, however, he hid it well.
"Hope," Lyall croaked out hoarsely, ghosting his fingers along with the worst of his bruises, cuts, and the horrible, huge wart that was now covering his right eye. "She'll see me."
Newt clucked his tongue and shook his head. "Somehow, I don't think Miss Howell will be put off by…that," he mumbled, wildly gesticulating with his hands to Lyall's face. "Your fears of what the young woman thinks of you are unfounded, my friend. You needn't fear anything from her. I think that…" He paused to scratch at an itch behind his ear, as much as to give himself time to think. "She likes you," he said at last. "And that you ought to apologize. Come." Newt broke away from Lyall's grip for a split second, just long enough to steady himself, holding his arm out for Lyall to take. "I'm sure the others are worried about us. Let's go home," he managed to speak in a quiet voice.
Lyall's stomach sank as it dawned on him that no matter what, he was going to have to go back there and face Hope.
Lupin crossed his arms over his chest to shield himself from the guilt that suddenly assailed her, and he could only hope that once Hope caught a glimpse of what the Stinging Jinx had done to his face, that she'd not be put off by it, as strange as it might make him look, hideous as it now was.
He tightened his arms and looked away from Newt, who he could swear was looking rather disappointed in Lyall.
Lyall heaved a heavy sigh and at last turned towards Newt, though he had great difficulty in meeting his eyes.
"All right, Newt, you win. Let's—let's go home, then. You're right. I do owe Miss Howell an apology. Better sooner rather than later," he said, at last, taking a deep, shaky breath to steady himself, and he wound his fingers around Newt's arm to allow the man to escort him back to his home via Side-Along Apparition, as Lyall didn't trust himself to do.
Lupin slowly closed his eyes as Newt nodded his agreement, feeling the wind tousle his bangs off his forehead as Newt and Lyall turned on their heels and Disapparated.
He knew that the moment they stepped foot inside through Newt and Tina's home, he would have to go apologize to the young brunette Muggle woman whose life he had saved tonight and could only pray she'd accept his apology.
He could only hope.