.: Tomatoes, Brochures, and Firewhisky :.
It was a disaster.
Christmas was already tomorrow, and therefore, mistletoe traps began to gain to gain relevance on the days before the holidays. And if earlier the magozoologist was calm about this tradition, then this year his opinion had changed radically. Thunderclouds began to thicken over the skies. Just one of the winter evenings the three called on his apartment, and what was Newt's surprise when, opening the door, he found Queenie smiling, Tina a little embarrassed, and Jacob understanding nothing.
As it turned out later, the guests from New York decided to celebrate the holiday together, and of course, only Newt was needed to make the full company. And if Newt would not go to be present at the holiday, then the holiday would go to him. The first two days passed relatively calmly. The house was smoothly transformed: a garland lit up at the entrance, an inscription appeared on the window wishing everyone a Merry Christmas, stockings were finally nailed to the fireplace. Soon the spruce tree took its place in the middle of the hall, although then every hour it was necessary to remove the Niffler from it, which was trying to steal a couple of shiny balls.
The kitchen, as expected, was occupied by Queenie and Jacob, who vied with each other to discuss the Christmas menu. At first, Newt, like a fool, was delighted at the opportunity to communicate with Tina in person. No, of course the evening gatherings by the fireplace with friends were also pleasing, but these few phrases that they exchanged face to face settled somewhere in the heart, pleasantly warming him from the inside. And then the real purpose of the visit became clear—Queenie crafted a scheme for the two lovers. And everything would have been fine if Kowalski had not accidentally mentioned to the younger Goldstein that Newt was not indifferent to her sister. It was then that the thunder rumbled. It was time to build a bunker or emigrate from London, because the Legilimens' number one goal was to rig his kiss with Porpentina.
To implement the insidious plan, everything Christmas went into action: from mistletoe traps that were placed literally at every step, mind reading, a stolen wand, and from the sad look of his friend, Newt realized that he had already promised to help his beloved. And this meant only one thing: that after the phrase "Jacob, dear" Scamander would be delivered under the mistletoe to Tina, even if he'd escaped to the North Pole. All exits from the retreat were blocked. Of course, the problem was not in the tradition itself, and, of course, not in the girl. As funny as it sounded, Newt had a limited experience of kissing under the mistletoe. The time he fell into the mistletoe trap at Hogwarts, he just kissed the girl on the cheek. It seemed she was a Gryffindor, but she promptly ran away. If it was possible to kiss Goldstein on the cheek...
Such a suggestion was rejected by Jacob, who warned that all the mistletoes were enchanted, and they would not let go until the couple kissed on the lips. And then he added that kissing your girlfriend on the cheek under the mistletoe is at best offending her. The situation was aggravating... The solution, oddly enough, was less so. Well, Jacob mentioned that there were kissing instructions in Muggle shops. And if Newton thought he would die of shame buying this textbook, then he was greatly mistaken. He wanted to sink into the ground when he collided with Tina near the cash register. But it was clear that the man's request remained unfulfilled—the earth did not part under his feet, and the poor magozoologist had to get out on his own.
Lying about buying a veterinarian's manual and being generally in a hurry, Newt flew out of the store. The booklet was thrown into the far desk drawer until better times. The best time came in three days, when the calendar mercilessly showed that it was tomorrow that three minutes of shame under the mistletoe would begin, which meant only one thing—Tina Goldstein would NEVER again look at him as a man. He could no longer run away from home, so he had to stock up on tomatoes and... start training. Opening the booklet with the self-explanatory title: "Nobody has died from a kiss yet," Scamander wanted to believe that the name corresponded to the consequences.
"No, Pickett, I'm not sure about that," the man quietly explains to the Bowtruckle, holding a large ripe tomato in his hand. "The book says that they will help you learn." Putting the brochure aside, Newton looked closely at the tomato. He didn't want to kiss it. At all. Then the man decided to imagine Porpentina in his place. But with this he achieved only the opposite effect: his cheeks were treacherously reddened, and he did not want to open his eyes at all. After standing for a minute with his eyes closed, Newt decided to go to train next to the Thestral corral, because under the sarcastic gaze of such creatures, an inferiority complex made itself felt. Thus the kissing lesson continued at the corral.
After kneading his vocal cords, Newt re-read the first paragraph: "So, take a tomato in your left hand, and then touch your lips to the vegetable so that there is a small dent on it.
"Attention! Make sure the vegetable is soft," came a woman's voice from somewhere on the side of the brochure.
"What do you mean soft?"
"Well, if you press, then there will be a dent," she immediately explained in response.
"Ooh, okay. Thanks," Newt responded, continuing to examine the vegetable. It was kind of soft.
Stop.
The realization that someone was nearby came suddenly. Oh Merlin, at the corner he was knocked down, no need to doubt by whom: Tina. The girl screamed in surprise and dropped her book, miraculously not letting go of the matching tomato in her hand. An awkward pause lasted a long time while both tried to explain what they were doing here. Finally, when it seemed that the heavens were about to collapse to earth from shame (or laughter), the girl looked down, lifted the book and muttered:
"Yes, without alcohol you can't figure it out."
"I have a bottle of Firewhiskey in the barn," Newt put in mechanically.
The conversation began only after both of them both drank a glass of fire whiskey in one gulp, not clinking glasses and trying not to look at each other.
"Tina, I... I have never drunk Firewhiskey from travel glasses before," he unexpectedly said, trying to smooth out the awkward pause. His eyes caught on a glossy magazine tucked under Tina's arm, and he tugged it free. "'Lessons in Kissing before Christmas or Everything That Happens for the First Time'?" he read the defiant inscription.
Porpentina quickly snatched her allowance from the man's hands as quickly as she could and hugged it to her chest. Newt, watching the girl's reaction, could not resist and laughed out loud. Under Tina's bewildered gaze, Newt refilled the glasses with amber liquid.
"For the experience!" Offering a new toast, Newt handed fished his manual and handed it to the girl, who understood nothing. She took the offered booklet with interest and then laughed loudly. After wiping off the tears that had come through, the girl slightly corrected the toast:
"For the presence of this very experience!" The glasses clinked, and the situation seemed to begin to discharge. "Now I don't think I'm going to be so worried about this stupid tradition. Usually I manage to avoid the mistletoe traps, but not with Queenie around..."
Newt leaned forward, anticipating an interesting story and touched the girl with his knees. Her cheeks reddened, but she did not move away.
"Even in New York I thought about it... and three days ago, Jacob let slip that my little sister was determined this year. You know, Queenie's unlikely to be stopped by anything. Therefore, I'll be receiving my moment of shame under the mistletoe in one way or another." The girl's shoulders drooped, and her voice dropped at the end of the phrase.
And then the puzzling matter of Tina's strange behavior from the moment of arrival began to take shape into a full-fledged picture. The answer sounded extremely simple: Achilles Tolliver. It seems that Tina met with him once. An Auror, in general, was always an ideal option as a mate. Now it was clear to Newt why Porpentina so often looked out of the window onto the street. He was a fool; he thought that she just liked the view of winter London, when in reality she was probably waiting for an owl from her boyfriend from New York, not Britain.
Newton's imagination immediately drew a scene: how, on Christmas Day, Tolliver would wander through the snow-covered streets of the city, and the girl, noticing her beloved from the window, would run out into the street in slippers and throw herself on the man's neck. Then Tolliver would say that he would like to come in, and then they would notice a mistletoe hanging at the entrance. Extremely embarrassed, they would reach out to each other, and...
Abruptly jumping up from the stool and knocking it over, Newt clenched his hands into fists. Surely, he was not worthy of a girl like Goldstein. And his one kiss would be flagged as a ridiculous accident. And if he was destined to spend his whole life surrounded by animals, for once in his life, the prospect of the future sounded not so happy. But he would do everything to make Tina happy. Even if that meant she was not by his side.
His gaze caught on the frightened girl's, and the solution to the problem came to mind. He grabbed Tina by the elbow and dragged her to the middle of the room. Then the man rushed to the table, almost knocking it over.
"Newt? What? What are you doing?"
"So that you're not embarrassed, we can learn to kiss now," the man replied, giving the girl her brochure. "Have you seen the box with the tomatoes? It seems it was standing somewhere here..."
"Mister Scamander, are you kidding right now?" Goldstein looked at the magozoologist with large, horrorified eyes. Just ten minutes ago, he himself was indignant about the matter and was now inviting her to kiss a tomato? Under Tina's menacing gaze, which was rather amazing, Newt laughed nervously. But the box was still missing.
"Maybe the box is lost. Most likely Dougal snuck out of his enclosure and took it away. He's not indifferent to them. So we can both learn from mine."
The man smiled awkwardly and handed the tomato to the girl. Under his expectant gaze, Tina shrank into a ball, blushed, and then squeaked that she was asked to help with dinner from above and ran to the stairs to the top of the suitcase. There was no time to think, so having covered the distance in two steps, the man shouted:
"Accio, Tina!"
And she was drawn into his arms. He was ready to swear that his hands fell by themselves on her waist, and his nose smelled frosty air and apples, a little soap, and the tiniest bit of Queenie's perfume. Newton Scamander turned purple and nervously swallowed the saliva that had accumulated in his mouth. His heart was beating somewhere in his throat. And the seconds turned into hours.
"M-Mister Scamander, what do you think you're doing?" The girl turned, red, either from anger, or from embarrassment. Newt thought she resembled a disheveled sparrow. "Immediately remove your hands, or I will scream!" The girl squirmed around and thumped him several times in the chest. And Newt couldn't take his eyes off Porpentina's lips. He was shaking, and there was not a single thought in his head. Whether alcohol or Tina was to blame for this, he did not know. Her face was so close that the magozoologist felt the girl's hot breath on his lips. And then he could not resist; he gathered her face in his hands, pulled her to him, and gently touched his lips to hers.
The girl's breath caught in her throat, and she squeezed Newt's shoulders tightly. And the whole world shrank to a couple of meters around them. Surely, he must have lost his mind. Moving away, Newt felt a slight burning sensation on his lips, and then he noticed the lost sight of Goldstein. She stood motionless, afraid to move. Realization came to him instantly—he'd ruined everything.
"Oh, I'm sorry... I-I know you have a boyfriend." Sheer bitterness slid into his voice, making Tina flinch and look Newt in the eye.
"What boyfriend?" The girl closed her eyes, trying to focus on the dialogue.
"Achilles Tolliver," Newt suggested, and the desire to break the nose of the bastard grew every second. Tina's own lips folded into a smile, and her hands, which had been limply hanging beside her body, reached for the magozoologist's face. She touched Newt's cheek with one hand, stroking his cheekbones with her thumb. And the man shudders from such a simple caress and closed his eyes.
"He's not my boyfriend. Maybe it's because I like the British."
Newt rested his head on Tina's shoulder, trying to digest the information he has received, breathing lightly on her neck, which made the Auror shiver. Tina touched the magozoologist's hair, gently running her hand through it. She'd always wondered what it would feel like.
"Is that t-true?" the man tried to say, but a lump in his throat did not allow him to do so. He lifted his head. "Then may I kiss you again?"
Tina said nothing, just closed her eyes and leaned forward.
A/N: As always, reviews are appreciated and replied to. Or, if you'd prefer to comment more privately, feel free to shoot me a PM. Cheers, and I hope everyone has a very merry Christmas and a happy New Year! + KVP
