You all said that you wanted more, so… 😉 Here it is!

Set in August 1945.

Phoenix – 14 (just finished 3rd year at Hogwarts)
Linnet – 12 (just finished 1st year at Hogwarts)
Leo – 10
Wren – 4

Toby – 15 (nearly 16) (just finished 4th year at Hogwarts)
Daisy – 14 (just finished 3rd year at Hogwarts)
Ruth and Abel – 11 (nearly 12) (about to start first year)
Eli – 6
Lucy – 3 (nearly 4)
Penny – 2

A/N: Lucy is the baby that Queenie was pregnant with at the end of Stitch by Stitch and Penny is a baby that Jacob and Queenie adopted – I'm going to write fics about these things later.

"I'm sorry."

Tina frowned at him, fingers stilling on the buttons on her blouse; she had been getting ready for work, and she hadn't even realized that her husband was awake. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Newt repeated, watching her carefully. "For last night."

It took her a moment to realize just what he meant – and then she remembered their argument last night; she had understandably forgotten in light of recent events. "It's fine. I'm not angry anymore."

He sat up in bed, looking unconvinced; his arm was still bandaged from the incident with the Nundu the afternoon before and probably still somewhat painful, but he ignored it. "It's not fine…I'm sorry, Tina, I really am. I…I wasn't thinking," He admitted. "When I approached the Nundu, I wasn't thinking about the children – I wasn't thinking about you – and that was incredibly selfish of me."

Tina sat down on the bed, finishing doing up the buttons on her work blouse before looking at him again. "Maybe. I'm not really bothered about that anymore, Newt – there's other things I'm worried about." She paused, considering her words. "Having said that…I'm sorry too: perhaps I did overreact just a tad. I know that you have things under control in the case usually, but…but it scared me when I saw you covered in blood, especially when the children were crying and panicking."

"I'm sorry for that too," Newt muttered, and he appeared truly guilty. "I never want you to worry or be scared, Tina, not on my account. It's my fault that Wren…" He swallowed, suddenly looking pained. "If I hadn't been so irresponsible then we wouldn't have argued and Wren wouldn't have been so overwhelmed. I wouldn't have triggered her."

"Newt, don't." She reached out and placed a hand on his arm, much to his surprise. "Don't blame yourself – if anything, we're both to blame for arguing like that." She sighed, lowering her head. "I'm just…I don't know what we're supposed to do. I mean, I know Queenie will know what to do, but…I kinda feel bad about bothering her about it, and…and she'll feel awful when she finds out."

He just shook his head, however, looking rather certain. "No, Tina; I mean, she might be a little bit upset at first – but she's already had to deal with this with two of her own children, so she's bound to know what to say to help…and I'm sure Wren could benefit from a talk too."

"I…I don't know," Tina sighed, gnawing on her lip anxiously. "I mean, two of her own children have it, and I know that she felt so awful after finding out – but she'll be so hurt if she thinks she's…she's to blame for Wren too."

"Tina, Queenie's your sister," Newt insisted. "She loves Wren, and I know that she'll want to help if she can…and she can, Tina. You know she can."

He had a point there; even though she couldn't help but feel slightly worried about asking her sister, it was sure to benefit their daughter – and, really, that was her top priority.

Queenie, of course, was immediately aware that something was not quite right when the Scamander family came to visit later that evening; whilst the older children settled in the garden to talk and the younger ones played with Jacob, Queenie sat down at the kitchen table with Newt and Tina, a serious look on her face.

"You're both stressed," She stated, and before they could argue she had flicked her wand towards the cupboard; three mugs floated out, and another well-aimed point of her wand made the kettle boil loudly. "Something's wrong…with Wren?"

"Not wrong," Tina said hurriedly, casting a look to the kitchen door in case any of the children happened to be listening in. "Just…we need to talk to you, Queenie."

Her sister was silent as she finished the tea and coffee before sending it over to the table; she was clearly gathering what information she could from their minds as she took her seat – and then her face fell. "Oh. Oh, Teen…"

"It's fine," Tina assured her quickly, reaching out for her hand. "Honest, Queenie, we don't blame you at all."

"No," Newt agreed sincerely. "No one's to blame for it at all – it's probably some kind of…of recessive trait, I'd imagine."

"She had an episode last night," Queenie murmured, looking deeply upset by the news. "That must have been awful for her."

Tina's eyes were sad, but she was clearly steeling herself to stay strong. "Yeah, it was. But we handled it just fine – and we'll handle it even better if it happens again, now we know. Please, Queenie, don't feel bad about this."

"We wanted to ask you for some advice," Newt added hurriedly. "After all, not only have you been through it yourself, but two of your own children have too. Neither of us really understand everything, and…and we want to do whatever we can to make sure she doesn't suffer."

His wife's shoulders tensed, but she said nothing. Queenie sat back in her chair, eyes downcast. "I see. Poor Wren…it's no fun, seeing and hearing everything about people. Not everyone's so nice all the time."

Newt swallowed the lump in his throat. "No. No, they're not – which is why we really need your help, Queenie. I know it's a fair amount to ask, and we don't want to burden you-"

"Newt, honey," The blonde interrupted. "I'd rather help than have her suffer – she's only a little girl, and she's gonna need as much support as possible. Of course I'll help."

"Thank you, Queenie," Tina muttered, and she truly looked relieved. "Really, it means a lot to us."

Queenie's smile was only somewhat strained as she gave a nod. "I know, Teen. Alright…it ain't easy," She confessed. "It's gonna be hard for everyone, really – I mean, you guys ain't gonna have a lot of privacy anymore, not when she can read and hear everything you think or feel. As for Wren…well, like I said, it's awful to have to put up with it all the time; you hear a lot of stuff you shouldn't."

"So what can we do to make things easier?" Newt questioned, watching his sister-in-law intently.

"Just…If she knows you guys ain't mad at her – that you know it's not her fault – then it'll be much easier for her to deal with. She'll get better at controlling it," Queenie affirmed. "It kinda develops as you learn more and more magic…until then, you've gotta let her know that you're not mad at her about it."

There was a long silence in the air that seemed to stretch uncomfortably; it was only as Tina reached for her mug, looking rather thoughtful, that Queenie sighed.

"Teen, don't think like that. I mean, you helped me, remember?" She put a hand on her sister's arm, soft and understanding. "I know you were hurting a lot too when we were kids, but you was always there for me – you never got mad or tried to block me out. Really, Wren is so lucky to have you already."

"Queenie's right, Tina," Newt agreed quietly. "I mean, you…you practically raised each other as children, so you already know what to expect – you know how to look after her."

"See, Wren's got two parents," Queenie stated, and there was a hint of a smile on her face. "Two parents who love and adore her – she's got me and Jacob, she's got her brothers and sister, she's got cousins…she's got so much love and support already. I only had one person, Teen, and that was you."

Tina slowly nodded, and she reached out to squeeze her sister's hand; she knew that they had a point, that whilst Queenie had had only her, Wren would have so many more people to help her. It made her feel slightly better as she digested this information, though she still had her doubts.

"Wren will be fine, Teenie," Queenie assured her comfortingly. "I know she will."

And, truthfully, Tina found herself believing that.

"Hey, Wren!" Wren didn't even look up as Daisy approached, gazing down at the sun-warmed grass beneath her skirt sadly; her older cousin sat down beside her, giving her a smile and leaning back. "How come you're not playing?"

"Didn't feel like it."

"Alright. That's fine. Are you okay?"

Wren shrugged, eyes still lowered. "Guess so. Mummy and Daddy were fighting last night, and it hurt."

Daisy's smile faded quickly, mouth a firm line. "I see. It hurt?" The four-year-old nodded. "That must have been awful. What were they fighting about?"

"Daddy got bit, and Mummy was upset 'cause she thought he was hurt. She thought he was going away somewhere…I don't know. It started hurting before I got it all."

"Hmm. So…she was thinking this?" The older girl asked, and she frowned when her cousin nodded again. "You heard her thinking?"

"Her and Daddy," Wren agreed. "They were both angry and it hurt…it really hurt, Daisy. I didn't like it."

Daisy softened, suddenly sympathetic. "I'm sorry, Wren. It's not fun seeing what other people are thinking about, is it?"

"No. I thought everyone could do it," She admitted. "But Mummy and Daddy started being weird, and I don't think they can. I don't think Linnet can either, or Phoenix and Leo." She paused before finally looking up, eyes wide. "Can you hear, Daisy?"

"Yeah," She admitted, smiling half-heartedly. "Me and Abel…we're like our Ma, that's where we got it from. I think you got it from her too."

Wren tilted her head, clearly curious. "Auntie Queenie? I didn't know that. And Abel never told me…wait, how come only you and Abel and me can do it, and no one else can?"

"I don't know," Daisy sighed, putting an arm around her. "But what you need to understand, Wren, is that it'll get easier, I promise. Me and Abel, we've gotten used to it now – the headaches and hurting stops, I promise you."

The two were silent for a moment, simply watching from afar as the other children played and chattered a distance away; finally, Wren bit her lip and gave a squirm. "How can I stop hearing it, Daisy? I don't wanna hear it – I wanna be normal."

"I know," The older girl murmured, voice barely louder than a whisper; for some reason, her eyes had started to glisten. "I…I didn't even tell my Ma and Pa, you know? I didn't understand, and I was so afraid 'cause I knew it wasn't normal. I told your Ma before I told mine, 'cause I didn't want her getting upset…I thought it would make her real sad, especially seeing as Abel is one too. She was upset at first, but she said that she'd help me… My Ma and Pa have been real supportive of me and Abel – and I know yours will be too."

"But I wanna stop hearing it," Wren repeated, looking rather frustrated.

Daisy gave her shoulder a squeeze. "You can't, not really – but it's okay, Wren, I promise. It's not that bad after a while – it gets a lot easier."

The four-year-old looked rather put-out. "Oh."

"You're gonna be okay, Wren," Her cousin promised firmly. "And if you ever wanna talk, then just let me know – even when I'm back at Hogwarts, just send me an owl and I'll answer as soon as I can. Deal?"

Wren hesitated for a moment, clearly unsure – but then she smiled brightly, seemingly reassured. "Okay, I will. Thanks, Daisy; you're the best cousin in the whole world!"

Daisy couldn't help but grin to herself, a laugh bubbling out of her as she hugged her younger cousin tightly.

Put quite bluntly, Wren was rather disheartened by the realization that she wasn't quite like her siblings – that she was somewhat strange and odd. She had noticed that her brothers and sister seemed guarded around her, that they were trying to protect their thoughts, and she felt even worse for it because she knew she was intruding on something that should be private but she couldn't help it. It came like blinking, like hearing, and it wasn't her fault – she just wished her family understood that.

It was a couple of weeks later, just after Phoenix and Linnet had both returned to Hogwarts, and the two younger Scamanders were assisting their father in the case. It hadn't escaped Newt's notice that his youngest daughter was more withdrawn than usual, sitting near the Niffler's den and looking down at her skirt thoughtfully; once Leo was occupied with feeding the Mooncalves on the other side of the case, he made his way over to her.

"Hello, Wren." She didn't even look up when he knelt down in front of her, and he forced himself to smile. "You're very quiet today – I suppose you're keeping the Niffler company?"

Wren gave a small shrug, still avoiding his eyes.

"I see. Well, you'll have to make sure he doesn't get loose," Newt mused. "After all, I don't think Mummy would be too happy if he stole her things again." She didn't even smile, still not looking at him, and he found himself wishing he knew what he could say. "Wren, if something's the matter then you can tell me."

"No," Wren mumbled, voice weak. "No, I can't, you'll get cross and hate me."

"I could never hate you," He said immediately, appalled by this. "And I promise I won't get cross – I won't. Come on, what's so bad that you can't tell me?"

She finally raised her head, clearly uncertain and anxious. "I don't wanna hear anything anymore – it makes everyone unhappy 'cause they know I can hear it. I don't want everyone unhappy 'cause of me."

Newt sighed, sitting down beside her. "I'm sorry. I know that this is very difficult – we're all finding it difficult."

"Thinking is s'posed to be private," Wren told him sadly. "That's what Phoenix thought before he went back to school – but it's not private 'cause I can hear it. It's bad for me to hear it…I'm bad."

"Don't be silly," He dismissed, shaking his head. "You're not bad at all – you're kind and thoughtful and…and very compassionate, just like your Mummy. You're far from bad. Hearing private thoughts, yes, is very inconvenient for the rest of us, I'll admit, but it's not your fault; we all know that you can't stop it, and we don't love you any less for it."

She still looked very unsure, even a bit confused. "But…But…"

"I don't mind you hearing, if that helps," Newt informed her quietly. "I won't get upset if you hear what I think…I can't promise you I've got very interesting thoughts, but if you start reading what I think then I won't stop you."

He was still rather prickly about Queenie doing it, admittedly, but this was different; he knew Wren had no control over it, that it might take some time for her to control it, and he knew he could never get angry with her over something like that.

She seemed to read that he was being genuine about this, that he really meant it, for she suddenly embraced him and buried her face into his waistcoat. "Thank you, Daddy. I was scared 'cause I thought you would…you wouldn't…"

"Wren, I love you no matter what," Newt murmured gently, giving her a squeeze. "Me and Mummy both love you no matter what, and nothing will change that. Alright?" She gave a nod, still nestled into him. "Now then – would a ride on a Graphorn make you feel better?"

Wren's face lit up as she pulled away, clearly cheered up by this. "Yes please, Daddy!"

Perhaps riding Graphorns (even tamed ones) wasn't the safest activity for children – but when she smiled like that, eyes bright, he knew he'd made the right decision really.

"You need to stop comparing the two of us," Queenie tutted, shaking her head at her sister. "Honest, Teen, I dunno how many times I can tell you this but I'll say it again anyway… You're not a terrible mother and, yeah, it's okay to be overwhelmed."

Tina huffed. "Stop reading my mind."

"Stop thinking you're a bad mother," Queenie retorted, but she was smiling fondly as she sat down. "And another thing: it's okay when you tell me to stop reading your mind 'cause I can take it – are you gonna say that to Wren?"

"No," Tina answered immediately, trying not to go pink. "I mean, that's different – she's four, she can't help it."

"Neither can I," Her sister reminded her good-naturedly. "But you're right, it's worse when you're that little. Look, Teen, being overwhelmed about this doesn't make you a worse mother than me – it just means you're overwhelmed."

Tina still looked somewhat guilty. "Yeah, but it's worse for her than for me – she's the one actually dealing with it."

"You're all dealing with it," Queenie corrected. "It don't just affect her: it affects you, Newt, her brothers and sister…when you're a family, you share that kinda thing. She seemed happy when Newt brought her over yesterday – I wouldn't sweat it, Teen, honest. You're all doing a great job."

They were silent for a moment as this sunk in; finally, Tina rested her head on her hand and looked down at the table somewhat longingly. "I still wish Mama was here, you know."

"Oh, Teenie…so do I," Queenie agreed, her smile now sad as she reached for her sister's hand. "I miss Mama and Papa every day; I wish that they were with us to see our kids. They would have loved them, all of them, spoilt them rotten… I think that they would have loved Newt and Jacob too, you know."

She squeezed her sister's hand back, forcing herself to smile too. "Yeah, I think they would have too. Sometimes I…I dunno, I just wish I was more like Mama, you know? I mean, you're just like her and I'm…I'm…"

"You're just like Papa," The blonde finished. "He would have been real proud of you, Teen, I just know it: becoming an Auror, doing all of these great things to help people… He and Ma would have both been proud."

Tina didn't want to get tearful at this, she really didn't; instead she cleared her throat and looked away. "Yeah, well…I wish they were here, now especially – they would have known what to do."

"Maybe. But I think we're both doing okay," Queenie decided positively. "Don't think too much, Teen: you don't give yourself nearly enough credit for all the wonderful things you do. Wren will be fine, I know it, because she's got so much support. Don't worry."

Despite herself and the situation, Tina found herself grinning half-heartedly. "Worrying means you suffer twice."

Guess who is tired and done with everything and life? (it's me) There were probably things I should have added in this A/N but it's 2am and I've stopped thinking properly.