I tried to focus on Christmas in this chapter, but it strayed a bit far. Next one will be about the holidays, I promise.

December 24th had New York in a complete buzz. It was Christmas in mere hours' time; it seemed as if literally everyone was making last-minute preparations. The Goldstein house was not absent from these preparations. It seemed Tina and Queenie enjoyed the feeling of Christmas in the air as much as any other person.

Newt was getting a bit nostalgic from the whole thing. It wasn't that he was homesick; the past month with Tina and Queenie had been more cozy and comforting than most of his other life experiences. What was making him ruminate about his past was the thought of Hogwarts, with its huge Christmas trees and heavy snowfall and Feasts.

The Goldstein sisters had learned their magic at the American wizarding school, Ilvermorny. Newt didn't know much about it, but it seemed most graduates found their education satisfactory and pleasant. Since Queenie and Tina were both relatively powerful witches, and most of MACUSA's workers could do things Newt had never seen his fellow Brits do, he also assumed it taught strong magic. Still, he wondered how holidays were celebrated there. Did they also enchant pumpkins to float around on Hallowe'en? Did the Charms professor create magical snowflakes in Ilvermorny as well?

Newt didn't ask Tina about those questions, mainly because she was rarely home. It seemed that this time of year held many breakings of Magic Law, which caused Tina to have lots of work.

"I have no idea why." Queenie answered, when Newt questioned her about Tina's busy job. "But I'm guessing wizards just wanna have some fun around Christmastime. Our own Uncle Joey once conjured an enormous Patronus out the chimney on Christmas, just for excitement."

"What was his Patronus?" Newt asked, interested.

"A shrimp."

"Seriously?"

"Yes. Huge silvery shrimp."

"That must have been mildly terrifying for roaming Muggles."

"Mug- oh, No-Majs. Yeah, it was pretty scary. Teenie hated shrimps and she was slightly traumatized by that whole incident. That may be partly the reason she's fighting so hard to keep magic all concealed."

Newt blinked, having received some relatively personal information about Tina.

"Wait," he asked. "Whatever happened to your Uncle?"

Queenie pressed her lips together. "I suppose he got arrested, though I can't really remember. I was so young, see."

Young. Newt tried to imagine a little Tina and found he couldn't. It seemed she was just a very adult person. When he expressed this to Queenie, she seemed a bit confused.

"Hmm." Was her musing reply. "Now, yes, but I think she used to be very innocent and childish when we were kids."

With a jarring recollection, Newt remembered the Death Potion.

The memory was so clear it felt as though it had taken place only yesterday: the sound of his own footsteps echoing in the empty halls; Pickett's twiggy fingers picking the handcuff lock; the sharp smell of metal in the air; the sound of Tina's heaving sobs.

Newt shuddered, remembering how many tears Tina had shed that day. Unknown to her, he'd had nightmares for a good month after that incident. Sometimes he still woke up thinking he'd heard her crying.

But what he recalled now was the Potion itself; the memories projected upon it. The images had wavered across the liquid's surface, but were still clear: a young and spritely Tina with her mother.

Newt looked up at Queenie.

"You look like your mother." He said quietly.

Queenie wasn't surprised to hear he knew what her mother looked like, so Newt assumed she'd been reading his mind. He decided not to mention so.

With a sigh, Queenie put her head in her hands.

"Teenie didn't tell me she saw our mother in the Death Potion." She mumbled. "She should have. I would have helped somehow."

Newt stood up, his chair screeching against the floor. "I don't think she needed help, Queenie. Otherwise she would've come to you, believe me."

He gave her shoulder an awkward pat and left the room.

Tina came home two hours later with frost on her hat and a big grin on her face.

"I'm back!" she declared, stepping through the door and brushing herself off.

She was met with silence.

"Queenie? Newt?"

Tina blinked, then shut the door and cautiously ventured into the apartment with her wand raised.

She heard voices from Queenie's room. Being a trained Auror, Tina knew how to tread quietly; that was why she managed to enter it without making a sound.

"What are you doing?"

Newt and Queenie, who were poring over a large book, both spun around with a jump.

"Teenie!" Queenie exclaimed, strawberry-blonde hair ruffled. "I didn't hear you come in!"

Tina crossed her arms. "What's that you're looking at?"

With a guilty look, Queenie attempted to shove said book underneath her bed. Tina frowned angrily, tapping her feet.

"Seriously, Queenie, what is that? Why are you two huddled so mysteriously over here? What's going on?"

"Nothing's going on." Queenie said in a chirpy voice, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, right."

Newt cleared his throat. "Tina, we-"

She glared at him. "Don't you start, Newton Artemis Fido Scamander."

Queenie and Newt blinked simultaneously.

"How did you..?" Newt asked, taken aback.

"I work for MACUSA, Newt." Tina said. "You really think I couldn't easily figure out your full name?"

Newt had forgotten how overwhelming Tina could be when she was mad.

"All right." She unfolded her arms and stepped towards her sister. "What was that book?"

Queenie kicked at it to shove it away just as Tina leapt down to grab it; Queenie's shoe connected with Tina's hand.

"OW! Queenie!" Tina rubbed the bruised back of her hand.

Queenie winced. "Sorry. You don't have to be so angry, though. And I'm not trying to act all silly on purpose, you know."

"Stop. Reading. My. MIND."

With that jarring retort, Tina yanked the heavy book out from under Queenie's bed and threw it open. What she saw was perhaps the opposite of what she was expecting.

"A photo album?!" Tina gazed down at the yellowed pages and black-and-white photographs.

She ran her hand over the pictures, delicately turning the page. The other side didn't hold photos; it held wobbly writing. Tina's eyes widened.

"Queenie," she said, "Is this our book?"

"Yes." Queenie replied, scuffing her shoe on the floor.

Tina leaned back on her heels, dumbfounded.

"Queenie and I have this book since we were kids." She explained to Newt after a moment. "We wrote in it and drew in it as we were growing up… why were you reading it?"

Newt looked down at the floor, still a bit guilty. "I just wanted to see what you looked like when you were young."

That was surprising. Tina looked back at the book, flipping through it; indeed, it seemed Queenie had been showing Newt childhood photographs.

"Oh." She managed.

Queenie gave a little giggle, without saying a word. Tina assumed her own thoughts, and Newt's as well, must be pretty amusing at the moment.

Newt hesitantly pointed at one of the photos, kneeling down beside Tina.

"How old were you when this was taken?" he asked.

"I think… around four." Tina answered softly.

"Well, you were incredibly pretty. Still are."

Queenie looked as though she was about to burst into laughter as Tina blushed heavily. She still wasn't used to Newt complimenting her.

The three of them sat there for a moment, then got up at once and bustled off awkwardly.

But Tina was smiling.