As you undoubtedly know, Harry Potter, FBAWTFT and the characters therein belong to J K Rowling.

This is the final chapter of this fic. I've loved writing Newt but I wanted to explain my version of how he got expelled and hopefully I've done that. Thank you for reading.

"I should warn you, that Headmaster Black is campaigning to have your wand snapped unless you apologise to him. I can see that you aren't going to do that though are you?"

Newt's head shot up and hit the lid of his trunk. He had just been emptying it out, trying to decide what it was worth taking away with him. He doubted he could go home after this mess. For a heart racing moment he had hoped that it might be Leta, come to apologise, to run away with him, he didn't know what, but of course it wasn't. Even if she had regained consciousness, it wouldn't have been.

"What? Oh, er, no. Sorry. I probably should, seeing as I'm being expelled but no. Professor Black was going to kill the dragon and he didn't deserve it. It was just scared, it didn't mean to lash out. It should never have been in the forest.

"And yet, it was."

"Hmm," Newt nodded absently, busying himself with packing again so he didn't have to meet Dumbledore's shrewd blue eyes.

"Professor Kettleburn tells me you are exceptionally able with creatures. So presumably you know," Dumbledore said airily, as though he was discussing the weather, "the Peruvian Vipertooth exudes a very strong, almost undetectable poison from its fangs. The only reason that the venom isn't used more widely as a poison is that it loses its potency within a day or two of being removed from the dragon,"

Heat started spreading from under Newt's collar, up his neck as the details that he had read about dragon venom came back to him. He blew his fringe up out of his eyes, "Well yes Sir, I had heard that,"

"And I will be as bold as to make another presumption, that you have heard of the Dark Uprising led by Gellert Grindelwald and know how many witches and wizards here in England, even in this very school, want more than anything to see him rise to power."

"The articles say that you're the only one to stop him, Sir,"

"I dare say they do"

Dumbledore looked at him closely, as though he wanted him to consider how those two seemingly unrelated facts could be linked. Cold misery dripped down Newt's spine. He didn't want to think. Didn't want to realise what Dumbledore was alluding to. And yet, in spite of his wishes, he knew exactly what he was saying and what was more, he knew it must be the truth.

"I must ask you, Newt, if there's anything you want to tell me,"

Leta's pale face as she lay in the hospital wing, that strange necklace on show, swum to the forefront of his mind, unbidden but he had not been placed in Hufflepuff – the house of the loyal - for no reason. "No Sir," he mumbled dejectedly but Dumbledore was smiling as though Newt had told him something.

"Headmaster Black has tasked Professor Kettleburn with hunting down the dragon. It could hurt a student, which I'm afraid must be the first concern for us teachers. He's heading out into the forest in just a moment and I've suggested that as you are no longer a student, you could assist him," the way he spoke hinted to Newt that Dumbledore wouldn't be arguing against its capture. However, he couldn't stop himself from arguing against the injustice.

"It's already hurt, last night must have really weakened it. A chase through the forest could do serious harm."

"I doubt that will be a concern to Headmaster Black - he has ordered its destruction once it is captured. Still, it got in somehow, presumably it might just get out again," Dubledore waved his hand in his unconcerned manner.

"I doubt it," Newt's teeth gritted together. He had now admitted to himself the fact that he had refused to acknowledge, that Leda had somehow sneaked the beast into the forest. He knew it was topsy turvey, the way his silly old brain often worked, but he was more angry about the mistreatment of the dragon than the attempted poisoning of Dumbledore, if that was what it had even been. Perhaps it was because Dumbledore could look after himself, unlike the injured dragon or perhaps her causing harm to a creature felt more like a direct betrayal to him personally.

Dumbledore appeared unconcerned with Newt's inner turmoil, perhaps used to the travails of young witches and wizards, and seemed content to flick through the textbooks that Scamander would no longer need.

"I can tell I'm wasting too much of your time already. Headmaster Black expects you in his office before breakfast with your trunk ready to floo home. I implore you though, young Scamander, not to abandon your studies, now that your formal education has ended. There is much that it would benefit you still to learn. I find page 403 particularly enlightening," and with a wink, he pressed the book he had been perusing into Newt's hand and swept from the room, his violet robes swirling behind him.

Newt slung the book into his trunk and made towards the wardrobe to remove his spare robes hanging there, before slowly turning on his heel. Tentatively he removed the charms textbook that he had just thrown so unceremoniously and rifled through to the page Dumbledore had mentioned. Undetectable Extension Charms.

oOoOoOo

In the end he hadn't had his wand snapped. After a thorough search, the dragon could not be found, and although Headmaster Black had grumbled for what seemed like hours about the dangers of being unduly lenient on students, Professor Dumbledore had reasoned with him that asking the Ministry to snap his wand over a case of a disappearing dragon might have a high embarrassment factor and possibly it would be better if Newt simply disappeared. Professor Kettleburn, who despite having assured the head master he had seen neither hide nor claw of the dragon during the search, had fresh burn paste applied to his face, glanced conspiratorially at Newt and repeated the offer to send him to the Ukraine to work with dragons. Newt had gratefully accepted and, gripping his brown leather suitcase tightly in one hand, had been on his way that very same day.

None of the students saw him go. Dumbledore had asked him if there was anyone he wanted to say goodbye to but he had declined.

He heard nothing of Leta for seven years. He didn't try to seek her out even though he burned to ask her so many questions. Instead he concentrated his attentions on his creatures – at least he could understand them. They were often dangerous or fearsome but at least he could always understand their motivations. Besides, even the sharpest toothed runespoor, or aggressive troll could not compare to the most vicious creatures – man.

Then after over half a decade, she wrote to him just once.

He had been just about to go to bed when the owl had arrived, hooting at his window with a lumpy parcel attached to its leg. When he opened it, a tiny copper coloured dragon flew out - a miniature replica of a Peruvian Vipertooth. He smiled at the clever use of the Draconifors transfiguration spell, even though icy cold eels of dread writhed and roiled in his stomach as he realised who must have sent it. With shaking hands he unrolled the scroll of parchment.

My Darling Newt,

How I miss you. It seems a lifetime ago since I last saw you. And what a lifetime. The world seems to have shifted upon its axis and everything that was right and proper and encouraged now seems wrong and indecent and everything that was forbidden and spoken of in disparaging tones by my parents now seems like the only truth I have to hold on to. I wouldn't expect you to understand, your moral compass has always pointed unerringly towards the light. It was one of the things I loved most about you, even when I couldn't understand it and it pained me to consider.

Newt, I want to thank you. Thank you and apologise. I should have said it years ago but I thought I was too afraid. Now, on the eve of my wedding, I know what fear truly feels like and I realise now that it wasn't fear, but shame that kept me from writing to you sooner. Dumbledore told me what you did for me at school, how you took the blame. It was more than I deserved. I am sure you must have guessed my secret but perhaps you have never considered the pressure that I was under, that we were all under to DO SOMETHING. And you needn't become bitter with assumptions that I escaped without punishment, for news of my failure soon reached the ears of those who did not hesitate at serving punishments far more severe than a detention, or lines, or even expulsion and being banished to the land of dragons. You have been noticed too, your name was not excluded when the whole sorry tale was picked over by my Master. He has noticed you. Please, my darling, never give yourself cause to make him notice you a second time.

Dumbledore never accused me of any part in the whole thing, but I think he knew too. Certainly he never would teach me transfiguration again – he said that I already knew more than I needed to on the subject. I don't know if you are still in contact with him but if you are, please pass on my regards to him, he is the world's only hope now.

Sometimes I dream that you come to rescue me, come swooping in on the back of a hippogriff and snatch me away from this horror and carry me off into the sunset - and it reminds me of that time you sneaked out of detention on the back of my broomstick and I don't think I was ever happier than I was then - but I think we both know that's too flashy for you, that you aren't quite that brand of hero. So I must say goodbye, the goodbye that I have carried around in my heart, leaden and cold, for too long. I enclose my picture so that you may remember me from time to time, if you like.

Yours, always

Leta

Newt squeezed his eyes shut tightly but he could still see the desperation bleeding off the paper, read the unwritten pleas in her words. He looked back into the package and found the photo she had mentioned. She looked just the same as at school, apart from her eyes. Her eyes looked like they were staring into her own grave. With a wave of his wand he called the Lilliputian dragon that had been circling his head and set it on the parchment and just sat and watched as it reduced her words to ash. Then he tucked the photo into his pocket and cast a reversal spell over the replica beast. Its scales melted away as the transfigured beast returned to its original form, and with a thunk, the silver pendant that he had seen round her neck that night in the hospital fell onto the smouldering remains of her letter.

So there you go folks, the end. I hope you've enjoyed reading nearly as much as I've enjoyed writing. If you have, please do review.

There MIGHT be a teeny epilogue to follow because I couldn't can't give Newt up completely just yet.