May brings warmth and golden sunshine into their lives, and for the first time in months, Tina is completely herself.
Newt plies her with food, and with her nausea departing entirely, at last, she eats her fill. Each week sees Tina's body demanding a new culinary confection. She subsists entirely off little sour pickles one week. The next, she consumes the contents of Newt's jam collection, packed specially for him by his mother.
He allows her to hoard it all, smiling softly, and always offers seconds.
Tina walks as well, starting with trips up and down her apartment stairs, ending with strolls on his arm around the block. The food and exercise do her good. Her face fills back in, and her skin maintains a healthy glow. She is positively lush, and when Newt looks at her, she feels herself responding on a base level.
Her stomach continues to round out while their child enjoys regular activity, and this makes her nearly giddy. The baby stretches and rolls and cavorts so often that Newt takes to referring to it as The Squid, and Tina laughs and laughs.
May also brings the end to Newt's reticence to touch her. One sunny afternoon, after returning from their walk, when there's a fresh breeze wafting through the apartment, she pulls him into bed and he does not resist. Her Newt undresses her and handles her as though she is incredibly precious to him, and Tina basks in the warmth of his regard. He wonders initially about harming the baby, but Tina uses her hands and mouth to soothe and ignite him in turns, and she manages to peel back his hesitancy.
They make love with care, and Newt is careful to avoid her tender breasts and the curve of her stomach. Tina is incredibly full and sensitive down there, her climax a series of heated pulses that go on and on until she sobs her relief. When her legs cramp and she tires of holding them up, he turns them on their sides and takes her from behind.
He rocks them slowly to allow her to calm, kissing the back of her neck and murmuring in her ear. Once she's ready, he resumes his previous tempo. Tina's newfound responsiveness combine with his clever angle to tease another orgasm from her, less intense than the first but no less welcome. Newt follows soon after, shocked gasps sounding in her ear as he clutches her convulsively.
Then it's over, and she clasps him while their sweat cools.
June rushes in as heat and thunderstorms, swollen feet and hair sticking to the nape of her neck.
Tina grumbles and swells and retains water and sweats. She is constantly achy and uncomfortable, and they both suffer for it. Newt spends the majority of his time refreshing cooling charms and rubbing her tired feet and legs. He helps leverage her from a seated position so she can waddle to the toilet, and insists that she rest and gather her energy while he handles the household tasks.
He's been doing these things since November, really, but she is grouchy and uncomfortable and can't help sulking.
The breadth of her abdomen increases exponentially, and there are days they swear they can watch it expand. Sleep becomes a fond memory, for her bladder is always demanding relief. The child picks nighttime to be active, and while Tina relishes every jab and kick, she wishes the baby would give her the occasional night to just rest.
Newt is by her side as he's always been, reading to her when sleep evades them and sometimes just keeping her close.
One particular evening ends with Tina begging him to make love to her, so he tucks her close and rolls his hips into her. The rocking calms the baby, for it settles down and allows Tina to sleep. Her rest is blissful until a particularly vicious leg cramp wakes her, and Newt is there for that too, rubbing out the ache and kissing her puffy feet. Then he kisses her mouth and calls her beautiful, and Tina refrains from grumbling moodily.
Toward the end of the month, as Tina's time quickly approaches, Newt disappears into the city for an entire day. When he returns, he removes a series of shrunken packages from his pocket and taps them with his wand. They expand to reveal a plethora of baby items: a beautifully hand-carved cradle, which will magically grow to accommodate their child through the stages of its life; a stack of soft white squares to use as diapers and pins charmed to never stick an infant's' tender skin; rubber diapers pants and blankets, booties and hats, shirts and darling little cloth's to use when burping.
All these things and a hundred more, and Newt is watching her carefully, almost fearfully. Tina buries her face in a stack of items and inhales deeply. Then she puts her arms around Newt and squeezes.
He smiles bashfully and toes the floor while they both pretend she isn't weeping.
They are disturbed one morning in early July by a pop, extraordinarily loud in the quiet of the room.
Newt jerks awake and is instantly alert; Tina takes a while longer, and it takes her longer still to figure out what the noise was. She excuses herself to the bathroom to clean up, but all day she feels fundamentally off. By mid-afternoon, regular cramps have sunk their teeth into her lower belly, and they refuse to let go. By early evening, a steady stream of discharge and the accompanying pain drives her to seek out Newt and inform him of their impending arrival.
He is amazingly calm as he summons the witch-midwife. Tina thinks nothing of it when he casts his Patronus and a small, waddling, spiny something leaps from his wand. He sends the message and settles her on the couch while he flits around the apartment, preparing sheets and towels, performing cleansing and imperviousness spells on their bed and other furniture, and situating the items their baby will need immediately.
When that's all done, and Tina is tense with pain and anticipation, he settles behind her and works at the knots in her lower back.
The witch midwife's stork Patronus swoops in and informs them that she and her assistant are in the midst of a difficult birth, clear on the other end of the island, and likely won't make it for many hours.
Tina freezes in despair until the next wave of pain buries her. Newt takes a moment to panic calmly. Then he centers himself and informs her that he's had plenty of experience helping his creatures give birth and that he's confident of being able to help her.
Tina trusts him implicitly, and the thought of making the trip to the wizard hospital makes her quail, so she agrees.
Newt proves himself eminently capable. Tina alternates between bouts of exhilaration and intense panic. He helps her through both until the sharp, glassy pains consume her, at which point all other thoughts cease to matter. She feels the need to move between each jag so she walks and paces until her body demands repose. With his gentle encouragement, she submits to the urge.
Tina eventually winds up squatting in a corner, using the wall for leverage. Newt's hands work the kinks out of her back until she can no longer stand it and snarls for him to step away. He does without comment. Five minutes later she begs for his return, and ten minutes after that he's holding a basin beneath her as she retches from the combination of pain and nerves.
He cleans up the mess and resumes his steady kneading, and they go on like this until a great and immense pressure takes her, and the need to bear down is all-consuming.
He positions her on her hands and knees, and she endures each peak and valley of pressure with bared teeth. Eventually, the child shifts and the discomfort eases somewhat. She can think now, between each contraction, and he allows her sips of water as she rests on her forearms, groaning deep in her chest. Then another jagged wave comes and she's buried again, her body working entirely independently of her desires to bring their child into the world.
She bears down when her body requires it and breathes deeply when he urges, and looks away when he uses his hands to determine her progress.
There's another elemental shift and suddenly the urge to push is more intense than ever, so she does. Tina gives a sharp cry when their child's crowning is accompanied by an intense burning. Newt assures her that he can see the head, topped with hair as dark as a crow's wing. He waits until she recovers before using her shoulders to lever her until she squats on her haunches. Gravity helps settle them both into position.
Then Tina experiences the most intense pain yet, enough to drown out all other sensory input. Newt sports gloves made of her own blood while she burns and aches and stretches until she tears like old bed sheets. She barely notices that sting because another surge of pain drowns her, yet Tina doesn't mind because this pain is different, this is pain with a purpose, and she knows she's almost there.
She weeps while Newt croons at her encouragingly. Another spate, turning her stomach and thighs into stone while Tina grunts and labors. She gives it her all, teeth bared in a feral grin, and with it, the child's head is free of her.
Newt grips it by the neck, guiding them both while he admonishes her to breathe deeply and collect herself. She pants through another surge. It's less intense than those before, and Newt uses it to ease the shoulders out, first one and then the other. Then, with one last straining gasp from Tina, their child slithers free, spurting forth on a wave of blood, purple and wrinkled and frighteningly still.
Tina holds her breath while Newt uses his wand to suction the baby's mouth and nose before blowing a sharp puff of air directly into its face. The baby starts, sucks in a ragged breath, then voices a single wet, indignant blat. Newt sags in relief at the sound. Tina sways where she crouches, feeling suddenly empty and useless and pale.
He makes quick work of tying and cutting the cord and Tina is free at last, her body entirely her own for the first time since October.
Newt touches her shoulder to gain her eye and informs her that they have a son. His gaze is soft and proud and his smile is entirely for her.
He cleans the newborn with infinite tenderness, before swaddling him in a soft blanket. He holds their baby out to her, encouraging her to take him. Tina hesitates only a moment; then instinct and longing kick in and her arms are full of the light bundle, her son a warm weight against her chest, and Tina isn't sure if she's laughing or crying.
Newt gives them a private moment while he brings the cradle to her side. He then urges her to set their son down so they can deal with the afterbirth and the mess.
He handles the aftermath with clinical efficiency, and once Tina and the baby are clean and tucked into bed, and Tina's wounds are healed with soft cloths piled between her thighs to catch the bleeding, he teaches her how to nurse. It isn't as easy as it seems at first, but he is patient in guiding her, and soon the baby is suckling while deep waves of contentment course through her.
Newt curls around them, eyes never leaving her or their progeny. He isn't flush with hormones and joy like she is, so he winds up falling asleep, snoring gently into her shoulder.
Tina watches him sleep, watches their son sleep, and sends up a quick prayer of thanks to Merlin for them both.