Hello everyone!

I am SO sorry for the delay with this chapter. I'm sure you've all seen that I had to put this story on a hiatus because I have been drowning in life. I didn't want to have to do it, but it really seemed like my only option. However, I am back and I hope I don't have to put this story on another hiatus.

I struggled with this chapter, I really did. Especially the end. But I hope you guys enjoy and that this makes up for my lack of posting in recent weeks!

The regular hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley greeted Newt as he stalked out of the Obscurus Books headquarters, turning up the collar of his coat and keeping his head down to avoid being recognised. He'd just come out of yet another meeting with Worme, who had attempted to persuade him to think about doing a tour for the book. The signing at Flourish and Blotts had had such a good turnout that the idea had come back up. Newt thought he'd made it pretty clear that he had absolutely no intention of doing a book tour, unless the first stop was New York, and then he would tolerate it. But the publishers were adamant that New York was 'too far afield' and that the book would not be as famous in America. The meeting had ended with Worme pleading Newt to think about it, and Newt reluctantly agreeing. So he wasn't in a particularly good mood.

He was so focussed on getting away from the crowds he almost didn't hear her voice calling his name. But he did. Automatically he froze, like many of his creatures did when they sensed danger, in the hope that whatever was hunting them wouldn't see them. It didn't work. The next thing he knew was that Leta was stood in front of him, her dark, glossy curls being gently blown around her face by the light breeze. Today she wore a rich amethyst purple velvet coat, and her eyes sparkled at him the way they always had.

"Hello again." she smiled, the way she had smiled at the book signing. Clearly, she hadn't noticed that he'd never signed her book. Shows how much she cares.

"What now, Leta?" he barely looked at her as he spoke as bluntly as he could.

Her voice was gentle. "I just wanted to talk to you, is that too much to ask?"

"Yes. I have somewhere to be." He lied. But he didn't know why he bothered.

She laughed, "You always were a terrible liar. I had to do it for you."

The mere thought of how close they had been at Hogwarts made him want to bolt there and then, but for some reason he stood frozen to the spot, unable to move. Dammit, Newton, what is wrong with you?

"Listen. I have something to say. You remember how my father always wanted to find me a respectable husband from a prestigious family?"

Newt said nothing, just nodded ever so slightly.

She continued. "Well, he has." She held up her left hand. A diamond ring glittered on her ring finger, and Newt was reminded, painfully, of how he'd once wanted to be the man who put a ring on her finger. "I'm engaged, and my father is arranging the marriage."

"Why are you telling me this?" his voice was barely a whisper.

"Because I don't want to marry him, Newt. He's nice enough, but he's far too protective and controlling."

"And I should care about this because…?" Newt tried to be as cold as possible, but it had never been his strong suit.

"I want you back in my life. I have such fond memories of Hogwarts-"

Newt interrupted her with an incredulous laugh. "That doesn't change what you did." And, finally finding his feet, he started to walk away.

But she appeared in front of him again. "At least let me buy you a drink." She gestured towards the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron a few feet away.

Newt looked at his pocket watch. "Leta, it's three o'clock in the afternoon. Look, I have enough problems in my life at the moment. I don't need you." And he started to walk away again. He couldn't bear to look at her.

But she followed him yet again. "I can help. We can work through your problems-"

He couldn't help but laugh out loud at that. "Just like we did at Hogwarts? Will you use me for your own benefit too, just like you did then?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm, leaving him surprised at his own tone.

When she didn't answer he found himself smiling. "Good day to you."

She didn't follow him when he walked away this time, but if he'd looked behind him he would've seen the classic Leta smirk on her face – the kind of smirk she'd always had when she was planning something.

Despite the fact he had just refused Leta's drink offer on account of the time, it only took the five-minute walk to the Leaky Cauldron to decide he actually did need one. Just one. To gather his thoughts, and to de-stress. He walked into the pub, glancing around. It was nearly empty, with only a few spaces at the bar occupied by the regulars that never seemed to leave. He slid into an empty bar stool well away from them and stared at the bar as he slid three sickles across it. "Shot of firewhisky please, Tom."

Tom the bartender looked at him like he was crazy. "Are you mad, Newt? It's three in the afternoon!"

Newt chuckled despite himself. He looked up, but he looked at the rows of bottles behind the bar. "It's just to help gather my thoughts."

"Publishers giving you hell again?"

"Something like that. I promise it's just the one."

Tom shrugged, took the three sickles and poured the shot. He slid it across the bar to Newt, who raised it in thanks, and, in a moment of impulse, downed the glass in one and half-slammed it back onto the bar. He felt, rather than saw, Tom staring at him in surprise.

It was then he remembered that you can never have just one shot of firewhisky.

Three hours later he found himself stumbling through the front door of his flat and shoving the door closed behind him as he tried not to trip over his feet. It was then that he found himself dashing into the kitchen, just in time for all those drinks to come back up into the sink. He stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, waiting to see if anything else was going to come up. When it didn't, he ran the water into the sink, throwing the cold tap water over his face and filling up a large glass. He tried not to gulp the water too much, but his mouth tasted vile and felt like a desert.

The next thing he knew was that he was dragging himself over to the sofa and lying right across it, pulling the patchwork throw over his body and putting a cushion under his head. It was there that he remained for a good hour or so, just lying there feeling sorry for himself. He couldn't even seem to sleep. He was glad Theseus wasn't there to see him like that, though, or he'd never hear the end of it.

It took him a while, even though he'd been staring at the case for the last hour, to remember that he had creatures to feed and settle for the night. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to sit up on the sofa, dizziness washing over him like a tidal wave when he did so.

Despite not being able to sleep for the last hour, the cot in the shed inside the case looked so inviting. It was no good going round to see to the creatures if he was exhausted. I'll just take a nap for an hour or so, then I'll feed everyone.

He didn't wake up until eight o'clock the next morning.

The inside of the shed slowly came into focus as he opened his eyes, and in a moment of panic, he checked his pocket watch. When it dawned on him that he had never gotten up to feed the creatures, he collapsed back onto the bed, cursing himself. Bugger.

The next thing Newt registered was that his head felt as if it was splitting in half. He knew he had an antidote for that in the shed, it was just finding the energy to get up and find it. He was so focussed on trying to psych himself up to find the antidote to the mother of all headaches he almost didn't notice a tugging at his sleeve. He slowly turned his head and Dougal materialised into his vision. Despite himself, Newt managed a smile. "I'm so sorry, Dougal. I'll be up in a minute."

Dougal shook his head, and Newt looked at him in confusion. "You took care of it?"

The demiguise nodded and relief washed over Newt. "I don't know how to thank you, old chap." he ran a hand through Dougal's downy silver fur.

Dougal put a hand out to hold Newt's for a moment and motioned with his head towards the ladder out of the case. Again his eyes flashed blue for a split second.

Newt registered that the demiguise was telling him he needed to get out of the case, but as he moved his hand to help himself get up, he noticed that he seemed to be holding something. Looking closer he saw that it was the antidote he needed. He went to thank Dougal, but he'd already gone.

His headache was fading as he climbed the ladder back into his flat. And there it was. The tapping on the window he'd come to associate with Tina's letters. But when he opened the window, not one but two owls shot into the room. The first was a dishevelled looking thing that crashed onto the coffee table, knocking various pieces of parchment and several mugs onto the floor. Newt groaned and rolled his eyes, and untied the note attached to the (now very dazed) owl's leg. It was a scrawled note from Tom at the Leaky Cauldron, telling him that he had until the end of the day to pay 15 sickles for the other drinks he'd put on his tab the previous day. He groaned again, and mentally slapped himself for drinking, especially in the middle of the day. Just the thought of any kind of alcohol made him want to throw up again. He also tried not to think too much about what he might have done in his drunken state. At least he hadn't bought the rest of the bar a drink.

Newt now turned his attention to the other owl – a very sleek, dignified, proud looking bird carrying a letter in an envelope stamped with the Ministry's seal. Theseus. "Bugger, what does he want now?" Newt muttered to himself as he very reluctantly opened the letter. It was indeed from Theseus, via his current assistant, Flick. Apparently, his brother requested his presence immediately. Of course he does.

Half an hour later Newt reached the Ministry, on a day when he wasn't even supposed to be working. He didn't even bother to knock before he entered his brother's office, which was becoming more and more familiar to him.

"What do you want, Theseus?"

His older brother chuckled. "Good morning to you too, little brother." Then, upon actually observing Newt's rather dishevelled appearance, added with a grin, "Ah. Someone looks hungover. Good night?"

Newt knew Theseus would just ask Tom at the Leaky Cauldron for the truth so he might as well tell him. "It wasn't a night, exactly."

Instantly Theseus cottoned on with a laugh, "Day drinking? I didn't think you had it in you, Newton."

"Just tell me what you want, Theseus."

His brother smiled. It was a knowing, patronising smile – one that Newt knew all too well. "I have something for you. Please, sit."

Newt said nothing and stared at the wood grain of the mahogany desk as he slid into the chair opposite.

When Newt looked up at his brother he noticed that Theseus had something in his hand. Something that looked a lot like an envelope. An envelope with the familiar neat, almost calligraphic handwriting of Tina Goldstein on the front.

On impulse, Newt reached for the letter. When his brother moved his hand away with a chuckle he glared at him. "Why do you have that?"

Theseus smiled. "As you know, brother mine, the results of the Ministry's investigation at MACUSA were such that the Ministry felt the need to continue assisting with Grindelwald. We also decided that your correspondence with Miss Goldstein should cease – for your own safety. However, I know how stubborn you are, so I offered an alternative."

Newt wasn't liking where this was going. "Which is?"

"Letters will be read by an official before they are sent and will be read out to you after they are received." Theseus paused, clearly waiting for a reaction.

Newt was instantly fuming – who did Theseus think he was, invading his privacy like that? – but he was determined not to give his brother the satisfaction of showing it. Instead he simply said, "Why?"

"To ensure that no sensitive or confidential information is intentionally or unintentionally revealed."

"And I'm sure it's nothing to do with the fact that you're obviously determined to find any excuse to destroy Tina's career by invading her privacy."

Theseus' smile was smug. "I never said I wanted to ruin her. Do you want to hear this letter or not?"

"Can't I just read it myself?"

"Absolutely not." That takes all the fun out of it.

"But you've already read it."

"Actually, I haven't. Remember it was read before it was sent."

Newt sighed in exasperation. "Do I get a choice?"

"No."

"Fine. Read it."

As Theseus read the letter Newt tried his best to remember Tina's words. This particular letter wasn't very long, and it wasn't written in her usual way. She sounded much more professional and less personal. She was distancing herself from him. The thought of it hurt, but he refused to let himself show it in front of Theseus. He would allow himself to think about it at home. He could see the smirk on Theseus' face – he'd gotten his own way once again.

The next thing Newt knew was that the letter was in flames, and then it was a small pile of ash on Theseus' desk, which he cleared away with another charm. That was the final straw.

He shot out of the seat, slamming his hands on the desk, leaning closer to his brother and demanding, "Why in Merlin's name would you do that?"

Theseus stayed calm. "Secrets must be kept, little brother."

"Bollocks. What the hell are you really up to, Theseus? What Auror business could possibly require you to invade my personal life?"

Theseus did not look fazed in the slightest. Instead, he had the audacity to actually laugh. "If Miss Goldstein was just a friend to you, Newton, you wouldn't care as much as you do."

Newt felt his face turning what he could only presume to be an unnatural shade of red. He quickly turned away from his brother and crossed the room to the door. Behind him, he heard Theseus chuckle again and call after him, "Let me know when you're ready to admit you're in love with her, Newton!"

Newt kept walking away, whilst at the same time fighting every nerve in his body telling him to go back in there and throw every hex in the book at his older brother.

Newt slammed the door behind him as he re-entered his flat. He found himself absently making his way to the case to check on everyone – he needed to take his mind off of what had just happened.

But it didn't work. Even when making his rounds – which was usually the time when all of the day's stress left him – he couldn't help letting his mind wander back to that meeting. The cruel, smug smile on his brother's face as he read the letter was ingrained into Newt's memory – it was a smile that suited Theseus very well, as the spoilt older brother always getting his own way. This constant image of his brother mocking him stayed with him all evening – even the creatures noticed something was up, no matter how much Newt reassured them otherwise.

After finishing his rounds, he didn't even bother to go back into the flat. Instead, he collapsed into the chair at his desk in the shed and finally allowed himself to think about Tina's actual words instead of his brother. He ran through the memory of the letter word by word. I shall be expecting to buy a copy sometime in the near future. The thought of not visiting Tina in person to deliver her copy made his heart sink. I have become aware that our correspondence could cause harm. This could potentially put you at risk. In a way, Newt was glad his brother had read him the letter. Because if he hadn't he would've thought that he'd done something wrong and Tina was abandoning him just like Leta did. The words Tina had used were simply Theseus' words from her hand. Therefore she was being forced to cease communication. Or even worse, she'd been given the choice but had been subtly guilt-tripped into doing it. Newt might be socially inept, but he wasn't stupid.

In his recollection of the letter he reached the final sentence. I wish you the best of luck with your book and further studies into magical creatures. It sounded so final. Like she was expecting to never see him again. Like she really intended to end their communication. Not because she believed that their correspondence posed a risk (although it was possible that it might), but because she didn't want MACUSA and the Ministry reading their letters. It seemed as though she didn't want to do it, but had been forced by circumstances out of her control.

But Newt wasn't having any of it. He was not ending this. And he certainly wasn't just going to stand by and watch his brother manipulate MACUSA, and of course Tina, for his own ends. He completely understood why Tina had done what she had. But he wasn't going to let her end their correspondence just because his idiot brother said so.

With a new determination and a plan forming in his mind, he snatched a fresh piece of parchment from the pile on the desk, poured a fresh pot of ink, picked up his favourite quill and began to write.

20th January 1927

Dear Tina,

I understand that you must not be expecting a reply from me. However, I am aware of these letters being intercepted. I had no idea Grindelwald was so interested in magical creatures.

All jokes aside, I respect your decision. There could well be a risk that our correspondence poses, and in your current situation, you can't afford to be taking unnecessary risks.

I hope that the interrogations go well, and I wish you all the best in your endeavours to stop the most evil excuse for a wizard our world has ever known.

Kind regards,

Newt

His hand itched to scrap this letter and pour out all his thoughts and feelings into another one, but he couldn't do that if his plan was going to work.

As he sealed the letter and tied it to Herbert's leg, he couldn't help but smirk to himself. He might actually have one over his brother for once.

You haven't heard the last of me, Tina.

I know drinking seems to be becoming a theme in this story - I promise I'm not turning them into alcoholics.

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Peace!