The three men apparated into the small but secluded back garden of Newt's building. It being early December, the evening was already very dark. One by one, they entered the building through the back door. Entering Newt's small kitchen, Jacob said, "We'll leave you to it. I'll walk Theseus up."

Newt nodded and accepted a pat on the shoulder from each of them before they walked through his flat and out the door. He then made his way down into his basement menagerie, where he knew he would find Bunty and Nagini.

Sure enough, he found the both of them feeding his runespoor. Looking at the large, three-headed snake, Newt's heart clenched as a memory flashed across his mind. The Paris cobblestones…walking as fast as he could to catch up with Tina…finally making her stop by making a comparison to the runespoor…Her small smile of amusement and her salamander eyes glowing when she understood what he meant…

"Newt, you're back!"

Bunty's enthusiastic greeting brought him back to a reality where, unfortunately, Tina was not there with him. Bunty was looking at him with a beaming smile, as she always did when she saw him. Nagini smiled a gentler smile when she saw him. "Hello, Newt," she said softly.

"Hello, both of you," he replied.

Her expression lighting up, Nagini looked over his shoulder then back at him. "Oh, yes, you've been to fetch Tina and Jacob! Are they coming down?"

Newt's heart broke all over again as he realized that he would have to say the truth of the situation aloud. He looked determinedly at the runespoor's tail as he forces the words out. "Um, no…Jacob has gone up to his flat and…T-Tina couldn't come back with him…MACUSA denied her permission to leave until she helped solve a new case…" His hands clenched into fists as he spoke, the anger still strong inside his chest.

"Oh, dear…" murmured Nagini, hugging herself and taking a step closer to him. "I'm so sorry, Newt."

Bunty wisely remained silently where she was. She couldn't deny that it had been hard to watch Newt and Tina together. Though they never exhibited public displays of affection beyond accidental touches that would make them both blush and smile at each other, it had been obvious from the first how deeply Newt loved her. And Bunty couldn't deny that it hurt.

However, she hated to see Newt looking so devastated and sad. And Tina was truly a good woman. That was easy to see, the way she interacted with all of the creatures and with the others who had moved into the building. Though sometimes Bunty wished she could, she couldn't hate Tina, especially because it was easy to see that she loved Newt just as much as she loved her. Bunty certainly couldn't blame Tina for that.

"When will she come home?" asked Nagini.

It made Newt's heart lift a little to hear Nagini refer to his home as Tina's home. "When the case is solved. A few weeks, Jacob said."

"Well, hopefully it will be sooner rather than later," Bunty said firmly, a new resolve in her voice. She felt Nagini give her an understanding, even proud, look.

Newt nodded, then seemed to pull himself together internally before looking between the two of them. "How is everybody down here? Any problems?"

"Oh, no," said Bunty, warming to a topic she was comfortable with. "The baby nifflers tried to get up to the flat again, of course, but thankfully Nagini and I have gotten better at distracting them well before that happens. Two sets of hands are better than one at that."

The corners of Newt's mouth just managed to turn upward for a moment. "Is everyone settled in for the night?"

Bunty and Nagini nodded.

"Good. Bunty, you can go home now. Nagini, have you eaten supper?"

"No, but I have a plate waiting for me in my shed, and then I'm going to turn in," replied Nagini. She was a sensitive soul, and she could clearly see that Newt was eager to be alone for a while.

Satisfied, Newt bid her a good night and headed up the basement stairs, Bunty following behind him. Where once she would have come up with any excuse to stay a little bit longer, she wisely grabbed her coat and left without a delay.

The moment he was finally alone, Newt very quickly kicked off his shoes, removed his coat after removing Tina's letter from the inner pocket, and practically bounced onto his bed. Sitting on the blankets with his legs crossed, he unsealed the envelope and pulled out the letter. This one wasn't as long as some of her other letters had been, but at the moment, Newt only cared about having a letter from her after the cruel disappointment of today.

My dearest Newt,

I have a new sympathy for you and what you must have gone through in the months after your book was published. If you had to go through something like this five times, then you deserve an Order of Merlin, First Class, for your patience alone. I only wish that I hadn't made things more difficult for you by the misunderstandings that happened because of that magazine and your auror comment. But since you've told me multiple times that there's nothing to forgive, I won't waste ink by rehashing old arguments.

I'm sure that Jacob has told you everything by now. Perhaps it goes without saying that it took all of my self-control not to completely lose my temper when I met with President Picquery today, especially when she mentioned Queenie. I very nearly cried, but of course I wouldn't let her see me do that. For a moment, I thought I saw remorse in her eyes when she dismissed me, but it was probably my blurred vision.

Somehow, Jacob knew exactly what to do when I saw him again and tearfully told him what happened. He put on his coat, made me put mine back on, and said we were going for a long walk in the city. At first, the only reason I could think of for this is to prevent me from destroying what was left of his apartment above the bakery. Then, as we walked along Broadway, he kept telling me to look around.

"Look around, Tina. This city is never so beautiful as it is around Christmastime. We were both born and raised here, and I think that we both believed that we would die here. Soon, we'll be saying good-bye to it, maybe for good. It's not our home anymore, but it was for a long time. Let's say good-bye to it. Besides…we gotta find and see the beauty around us, Tina. God only knows how hard it is after everything that's happened, but we have to try."

He's absolutely right, Newt. It's times like this that I know that Jacob is the wisest of all of us who are left. I'm still so grateful that he let me stay in the spare room of his apartment while we've been here, that he understood how hard it would be to stay at my old place, and that he's letting me stay here after he leaves. I'll miss him, as much as I've been missing the others, and almost as much as I've been missing you.

This city really is beautiful in December. New York City pulls nothing back in terms of celebrating the holiday season. There's a wreath on every door, lights in the windows, beautiful displays in the front of every shop. It was even snowing when we took our walk, which made it all the lovelier. When we came to Central Park, we saw what looked like a group of carolers singing songs near a lighted tree (apparently a very popular Christmas tradition, you'll have to tell me more about that). We stood and listened to them for a while, because they really did sound beautiful.

As I'm writing this, it's past midnight. It's going to be so hard to walk Jacob to the docks and not get on that boat back to England with him. He's been such a support for me the past month and a half, a true brother. As I'm faced with what could be at least a month alone in a city that doesn't feel like home anymore, a phrase from one of the carols I heard tonight keeps running through my mind:

"A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn."

I don't know what the song is or really what its context is, but those words…they are so beautiful. If I were to receive anything this Christmas (besides being back in London with you and everybody else), it would be to experience the feeling that those words convey. After everything that has happened, I believe that the greatest gift that any of us could receive this Christmas is hope.

I promise that I will work as hard as I can to be back home as soon as possible. I will throw myself into this mission and work as hard as I can. Please write back soon.

Love, Tina

After wiping the tears from his eyes, Newt reread the letter before folding it up again and placing it back in its envelope. He then reached underneath his bed and pulled out a wooden box the size of a large shoebox. Opening it with a tap of his wand, the contents were revealed: it held all of Tina's letters to him, both from before and after they met again in Paris. He placed this most recent letter on top of the pile inside and shut the lid.

His fingers resting on the box, Newt's aching heart and mind traveled back, remembering the day he had said goodbye to her at the docks. Not the first time in New York, when he had been the one to go, but six weeks ago, when he had said goodbye to her and Jacob, who were going back to New York City…

…He alone had accompanied Jacob and Tina to Liverpool, from where their boat was leaving. Theseus had to work, Yusuf was on the continent somewhere, and Nagini had somehow sensed that it would be easier for Newt to say goodbye without an audience. He had hugged Jacob goodbye, and the good man had then graciously headed to the gang-plank so that he could give Newt and Tina a private moment.

Every cell in Newt's body was screaming at him to take her in his arms, finally kiss her the way that a man kisses a woman, and never let her go. But he did none of those things. He knew that she had to go, if only so that when she came back, it would be for her. And he knew that, if he even gave her a little hug or little kiss, he wouldn't be able to physically let her go.

They didn't say a word because both were holding back tears.

It was Tina who finally moved in a beautiful moment of déjà vu: she reached out her hand and brushed Newt's fringe aside tenderly. Before her hand could withdraw, Newt had grabbed it and kissed her fingers. For a few seconds, they had stood like that, both wanting nothing more than to fall into each other's arms. Finally, Tina had somehow found the strength to do what she had to do: she gently withdrew her hand from his and walked away to the gangplank.

During this entire, silent exchange, their mutual gaze had not wavered once – a rarity with Newt Scamander.

Tina, a supportive Jacob at her side, had stayed on the deck and watched him with tears in her eyes. Newt, tears streaming down his cheeks, had stayed at the docks until the boat had disappeared from sight…

…Newt sighed as he came back to the present. That parting had been so hard, especially given the recent past. Since Paris, Tina had not had an easy time of it (to say the least). To everybody else in their close circle, she was a pillar of strength. But when she was alone with Newt, at night in his flat (their flat, he thought of it now), Newt had been her rock as she was able to let her walls drop and give into her grief. He'd had to coax her quite a bit, reassure her that this was not a burden to him, that she would not push him away if she let herself cry in his arms. In turn, he'd been able to grieve too, and she'd happily held him while he cried in return.

Throughout all of this, though, their physical contact had never entered truly romantic territory. Yes, they shared the bed in his small flat, but they'd done nothing in that bed other than sleep, hold each other, cry and confide. Him kissing her fingers at the docks was the closest that he'd ever come.

Newt couldn't speak for Tina, but he'd never taken that leap because he didn't know if it would be the right thing to do or the right time to do it. Tina was in a horrible place right now, after failing her mission and losing the last family that she had to the clutches of a power-hungry sociopath. Also, Jacob and Theseus, both brothers to him now, were mourning the loss of their loves. How could he seek that happiness while theirs had just been taken from them?

Taking a fortifying breath, Newt got up from the bed and walked to his desk. He pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and took his quill out of his bottle of ink.

He had always believed that worrying meant suffering twice. Since Paris, he had learned that this phrase was completely incompatible when it came to the people in love. He hated to think of Tina alone in a city that held nothing but a job that had betrayed her and memories forever tinged with heartbreak. He hated that he didn't know exactly when she would be coming home. But he wouldn't just sit and sulk about it.

Tina wouldn't want him to do that.

So, he hunched over the parchment and touched his quill to it. He would not go to bed until this letter – full of sadness yet reassurance, creature updates, and his own experience with Christmas trees – was not only finished, but on its way across the Atlantic ocean.