Newt awoke the next morning with a start to a glowing golden orb that looked none too solid still managing to smack up against his forehead. Blearily he blinked and sat up and his mother's locator spell finally relented and stopped bopping him. Well, that was a nostalgic way to wake up. Newt yawned and realized that he'd spent the whole night sleeping with his face mashed against the hard surface of the ornate wooden desk they kept up in the owlery for posting letters. This was not at all how he intended to start the day, but at least he knew that he'd got that letter off to the midwife. He counted owls, just to be sure he actually had sent it. Yes, one was still gone. The location spell disappeared, and Newt realized that meant that his mother would know where he was, so he thought he ought to get moving.
He started to heft his case, but then thought better of it. The four owls still in the owlery were mostly sleeping, but they'd be sure to send up an alarm if anything happened to escape from his case. Also, noone but his mother knew he'd slept up here, and so they'd be far less likely to try to come and find his case. Tina especially wouldn't even know how to find the owlery, so she'd probably be far safer with it stowed up here. Looking around, Newt saw that there were a few sacks of feed in the corner. Carefully, he covered his case, and went downstairs in search of Tina and breakfast.
Newt went through the family corridor and knocked on the door of the Rose Room, but there was no answer. Downstairs he followed his nose to the kitchen where a pile of eggs and sausages was waiting in chafing dishes on the counter. Queenie and Jacob looked up from where they were finishing up what looked like a week's baking for the entire village. Neat rows of loafs levitated and slotted themselves into the oven after Jacob finished brushing them with melted butter.
"Good morning Newt!" chirped Queenie. "Coffee?" she held up a silver pot.
Newt blinked, and looked over to the table, where his mother and father sat, sharing sections of the Daily Prophet. Glorianna particularly looked pleased.
"Mother! You asked Queenie and Jacob to help with meals when Theseus' guests come." He frowned at her, but was not too proud to take a plate and fill it with the eggs and sausages on the counter. He'd only had a few bites of the suspicious pie the night before, after all. Newt accepted the cup that Queenie poured him and slumped into a chair at the breakfast table across from his parents. "You weren't to put them to work immediately."
Gloriana paused and gave him a look.
"I told them it wasn't necessary, but they insisted," she said. "And before you bolt all that sausage and run off looking for her, know that Salsify is showing Tina around the greenhouses. She'll be perfectly safe."
"And I don't think any of us are sorry to escape my turn for breakfast," said George, returning to the previous topic with a small smile. "No matter how much I try to tone down the broiling spell everything comes out at least a smidge crispier than I intend."
"We truly are lost without Mrs. Simmons and Katy. I can't tell you how fortunate we were to find them after we lost our house elves," said Gloriana.
"Lost your house elves?" asked Jacob, wiping his hands on a dish towel and turning toward the table. "How'd you do that?"
Newt focused his entire attention on his breakfast, rightly guessing that trying to give his own answer to that question would cause more trouble than hearing his mother's version of events for the umpteenth time.
Queenie sat down next to Newt and looked at Gloriana. "I didn't want to say, but with a place this size it's a little weird to be relying on no-maj help to take care of the place. I thought all the old castles in Europe came with at least a couple of house elves to keep them up."
"You're not wrong."
George eyed Newt, hiding a smile behind the sports section of the Daily Prophet.
Newt sunk further down.
"We needn't get into all that.." He sighed. "It's too early."
"You don't get to decide who hears this story, Newton," Gloriana said crisply. "When the children were small, we had three lovely elves that had been with Blethering House since the days of George's grandfather Ellory. Montefort, Gimsby and Mittens were their names. I miss them every day..."
"You miss never having to confront a housekeeping spell, you mean," grumped Newt despite his best intentions of keeping his mouth shut. What was it about this place that undermined his will?
"Watch your tone, son," said George. Gloriana continued.
"I'll freely admit that Gimsby and Montefort were a little grumpy, but Mittens was an absolute dear. And so what if I do miss not having to devote half my time to household maintenance? The horses and hippogriffs alone could keep a full stable staff busy, let alone all the livestock and gardens and groundskeeping...we are up to our ears in chores every day. A place like this is more than four witches and wizards can cope with, even with Sikes the gardener, Mrs. Simmons and Katy. But the elves managed it beautifully."
"What happened to them?" asked Queenie.
"Well," began Gloriana, "about twenty years ago, despite his having lived a life of ease and luxury, due in large part to the tireless efforts of our house-elves, a very sulky boy decided that it was unfair that they have to slave away in the house while the rest of us did nothing—never mind that we were all slaving away outside of the house—and that he would nobly release them by giving them clothes without telling any of us."
"I can still remember coming home to the wailing," said George.
"Oh no!" said Queenie, "Those poor elves! If they'd been here that long they must have been devastated."
"Oh they were. Mittens and Montefort had been born at Blethering, and had never known another home," said Gloriana.
"Wait, so they couldn't leave?" asked Jacob. "If they were stuck here, then freeing them just made them able to leave. You guys wouldn't have kicked them out, right? And you probably could have paid them. I mean, you pay the housekeeper, don't you?"
Jacob looked a little nervous, and Newt couldn't blame him. He'd just signed up to do a job for his family and Newt was willing to bet his mother had glossed over financial remuneration. But Jacob needn't be worried, his parents would make sure that they were all properly compensated.
"Of course we tried everything to get them to stay," said Gloriana. "But they were grieviously offended by the whole thing and won't come back for love or money. Montefort and Gimsby went to live up north with the Loch Laflan Scamanders, and Mittens is still with my brother Ashley. I thought Mittens at least might come back to us, but no. Even she is too deeply traumatized by the cruelty of it all."
"Moth-er," said Newt. "I was thirteen! When will we be able to put this in the past?"
"You know exactly when this will all be over," Gloriana said. "You're the one who freed them, so you're the one who needs to make it right."
"I tried! Not a one of them would talk to me."
Queenie and Jacob looked a little chagrined that what had started out sounding like an amusing annecdote had quickly turned into more family bickering. That was apparently the law of the land around here, however. Gloriana explained to them,
"When Newt left school, he had to pick up some of the slack around here, but then Ashley found him a position at the House Elf Relocation office, thinking it would teach him a lesson. But to this day, he won't properly fix his mistake with the elves."
"That's—you can't possibly ask me to do that. I'm not going to enslave any creature!" Newt said fiercely.
"You freed them, offending them to the limits of their sanity the poor dears and they'll only come back if you bind them again."
"And I won't!" said Newt hotly. "It's not right..."
George sighed and turned to Jacob and Queenie, still a little stunned at how this story had taken a turn from childish escapades to a present-day argument, even if it was a very familiar one to all parties.
"As you can see, Newt holds extremely strong views on this."
Newt crossed his arms, aware that it made him look every bit the sulky boy who'd traumatized the house elves on principle. "I would have thought that you of all people would agree with me, Father."
George held up his hands and smiled a little. "It's not that I don't understand your argument. But in all things the welfare of the creatures should come first. Yes, the relationship between house elves and wizards is a complicated one, and its origins seem to be lost in time. Scholars make much of the tales of immoral and trouble-making imps and elves, suggesting that only ended once wizards bound them as servants to stop them snatching babies and souring milk. But that's only a theory. There's no real evidence. And no spell that I know of could possibly bind an entire species of creatures throughout the millennia. House elves today are every bit as intent upon serving as they were in the days of Delphi and Zoraster. It's their nature now, whether or not it's always been so."
Newt frowned. He knew this was true. But it still didn't sit well with him. Guiltily he could admit to himself that if the elves would agree to his father or Theseus rebinding them to Blethering, he wouldn't actually object. Doing it himself, however, was too great a compromise of his morals. Why should he rule over any creature, when all any of them wanted was freedom? House elves had always bothered him. Every other creature he'd ever encountered had only wanted to conduct their daily life without outside interference unless it became mutually beneficial to do otherwise, like the hippogriffs and winged horses who vastly preferred having a warm stable to sleep in and humans to wait on them hand and foot. A little work was worth it to them. But house elves were not entering into the servant-master relationship of their own free will—there was a clear magical compulsion that made them crave the subservience. It was unnatural, and still bothered him to this day.
"In any event," George said. "This is all long ago, and we've done our best under the circumstances. Though I wish you could have tried Montefort's kippered herrings, Jacob. He was truly an artist with anything smoked or pickled. Anything fermented at all for that matter. His hollyberry mead was legendary."
George sounded a bit wistful.
"Well, we'll certainly lend a hand while we're here, said Queenie, trying to improve the mood. "I bet we can help fix up the part of the house you don't use any more. It's not good to keep things shut up—it lets the dust mites breed. Tina and I always aired out the summer cottage together. I'm sure now we could help."
"Thank you Queenie," said Gloriana. "I truly appreciate the offer."
Newt gulped down his coffee and continued to attack his eggs and sausages.
"Careful not to offer too much, Queenie, or Mother will keep you hopping like the rest of us. Except for Theseus, of course."
Again, Newt cursed himself. It was like every time he opened his mouth around his family, something awful and designed to provoke would fall out. He rubbed his face.
Gloriana rose from the table and rolled her eyes. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of whatever surface you ended up on last night. Your brother has a highly complex job of international importance. We all have our roles here. Today yours will be looking at the pigpens after you visit the stables. It seems like something's been getting into their feed."
Newt merely nodded. This was par for the course. His mother had an epic job trying to run the estate, and he could admit that he hadn't made it any easier by freeing the house elves or refusing to come back home. His stubborn streak at times overrode his sense of duty, and he wasn't certain whether or not that was acceptable. It had certainly made things harder on his parents. If only George had not officially retired, maybe it wouldn't have chafed so to help them out. But even then, Newt would still have Theseus' inheritance of the land and title hanging over his head. Or worse, the danger that both brothers had worked against their whole lives: the chance that Theseus would be passed over for Newt. Being so socially awkward had been a blessing on that front, and once Theseus had made a name for himself in the war, it had seemed settled. At home though, it seemed all was not going perfectly smoothly.
"I'm going to go check on the Aetherion stable while George does his chores. Tina and Salsify are already out in the gardens, so they can help Sikes with pest control. And then, Queenie," said Gloriana, "It will be time for your first lesson."
"Yes ma'am," said Queenie, looking as if she shared with Newt somewhat the feeling of being thrust back into youth. It was like being back at school at the mercy of parents and teachers whose interference you may not want and certainly hadn't asked for, but still could not escape without disastrous consequences for the future.
-o-o-o-
Newt spent the next few days trying to walk the delicate line of pleasing Tina by paying attention to her, yet keeping himself and her both so busy that she wouldn't realize that they hadn't really talked. There was lots to do for his parents. On top of all the chores that seemed to have been waiting over a year for his attention, his parents insisted that he let the appropriate creatures out of his case for air and exercise. Newt was a little reluctant to disturb the ecosystem he'd carefully set up, but he couldn't deny that creatures like his graphorns had been longing for some daylight. And alternatively, the moon calves had been longing for some moonlight. George, Gloriana, and Salsify had helped him to set up some barriers to subdivide the back meadow to keep his creatures safe, as well as keeping the Blethering creatures safe from them.
Newt had been surprised not to have heard back from the midwife thus far. Somehow Newt had expected to have her pounding on the gate the morning after he'd sent an owl. But she hadn't so much as sent a note back with Milton, the owl that he'd given his letter to. Newt frowned and wondered if the owl had gotten the delivery right in the first place.
"Watch it!" Salsify said, and Newt blinked, returning his attention to the tricky framework of their divider spell.
Newt and Salsify were working hard on a spell to keep a portion of the nearest lake from freezing so that the ducks would have fresh water without their having to do anything further about it. They were also to reinforce the original spell that kept the ducks from ranging too far away.
"What happened with this swan?" Salsify said.
"I have no idea," said Newt, noticing that the big bird had fit itself into the slock of ducks quite nicely despite not being able to spread its left wing fully. "I found it surrounded by a ring of angry gnomes."
"That's not so unusual in itself," said Salsify. There's precedent for gnomes to go carnivorous when faced with an injured animal. But this looks like one of the swans from the forest pond. It shouldn't be out here in the back."
Similar to the inside of Newt's case, and the areas they'd set in the meadow, the grounds of Blethering were a mismash of barrier spells, all keyed to let certain creatures pass into certain areas while others were kept confined. It had been fine-tuned over the centuries to keep a careful balance between predators and prey, giving the former plenty of shared territory with food sources, but allowing the latter means of escape so that populations would never become decimated. The higher animals that could understand the danger of being seen by muggles, such as the hippogriffs and the winged horses were allowed the run of the place, but even they were confined to the district. Yet the doxies and the murtlap had proved that something was getting out.
"I know. Do you think this has anything to do with the creatures found down in the village?" Newt asked.
Salsify sat back on her heels. She was openly wearing trousers today—which was just as well since she overbalanced and sat flat in the muddy grass at the edge of the pond. "I think it might. There's a bit of evidence to suggest that something's up. Something seems to be cutting holes in our barriers. Nothing too destructive or we should have been notified. It's more like a snip here, a little gap there. On Monday I caught one of the duskbunnies in the garden. I returned it to the side of the hill where they live, but if that happens many more times we'll have to go without carrots and cabbage for a while. That one little creature had made it through an entire row of carrots and one and a half full heads of cabbage. It must have eaten ten times its weight in veg!"
Newt frowned. "Did you figure out how it was getting out?"
"No. It must have been very subtle though, since I was being as careful as I could."
"You don't think it's anything to do with what's going on up there?" Newt tipped his head toward the rocky crag that was visible in the middle distance. Salsify turned her head to look, but then quickly turned back to Newt.
"No, it can't be. Neither of them can leave right now. And it's getting close to time. You haven't been up yet, have you?"
Newt squinted at a rocky outcropping, just barely visible from this distance. Was his father over there right now?
"No. Tina is very curious about what exactly we do here."
Salsify shrugged. "Well, why wouldn't she be? Go on, tell her the gist of it. She's your wife, it's allowed. And around here it's not exactly a secret. I bet you Theseus' friends are going to ask to see when they come up. Visitors always do."
"Tina is interested, but her sister is too...and she's a legilimens."
"I suppose that is technically not alright, but isn't it Father who should have to be careful around her then? After all he's the one with the advanced spells."
"Theseus as well," Newt said.
Salsify gestured toward the pond with her wand, sending out a little ball of light that pinged against the boundaries of their spellwork, checking for gaps.
"So you don't know then—part of Father's 'retiring' and letting Theseus play at diplomat was because he never gave Theseus the final spells."
Newt froze. "Are you sure? As first-born, he should know them, just in case—"
Salsify shrugged. "Maybe Daddy told great uncle Algie or something just in case, but I know for sure Theseus doesn't know. I heard Father's official decision a year ago, but then only a few weeks ago I heard Theseus pressing father about it, saying he'd proven himself in the war, and at his job, and that it was his right to know. Daddy said that there was still more practical knowledge he needed to gain first, and invited him up to the—you know—and Theseus about turned purple and stalked off. You know how she feels about him."
Newt winced. This was all very unfortunate. He did not want to get sucked back into life at Blethering. If he let things go any farther, he'd have no choice. So he just hunched his shoulders and got back to work, waving his wand around in intricate patterns while Salsify's orb bounced around the interior of the duck's area.
"Hey guys!" called Jacob, coming up to them with a promising looking picnic basket.
"Hullo Mr. Kowalski!" said Salsify, having warmed right up to Jacob, having learned in the past few days that his arrival usually meant mealtime. Sal let her orb bounce about without her and scampered over to a large flat rock where Jacob had set his basket.
Truth be told, Newt was also glad for a break. Newt had planned to spend his days showing Tina around the estate, but Gloriana and George were concerned about the sightings of creatures in places that they ought not to be. Although nothing new had appeared in the village, they were supposed to go down daily and surreptitiously hang about in case anyone wanted to report something who might have felt uncomfortable coming up to the house. As if any Scamander could look surreptitious in the village of Bethering-on-Fletch. Ah well.
Newt stopped his work once the spell looked sturdy enough, and sat down next to where Salsify was devouring a packet of sandwiches. Jacob handed Newt his packet.
"Your mom sure has you busy down here, doesn't she?" he asked.
"Mother and Father want everything to be perrrrrfect for Theseus' friends," said Salsify through her sandwiches. She had at least stuck her hand in front of her mouth to finish chewing. "Can't have the diplomats confronted with anything upsetting, now can we?"
"Ugh, I wish they'd stay away," said Newt. "In America they've done so much more than we have here about founding National Parks. This whole place should just be a wildlife preserve, and then we could forget about all the fussy diplomatic bits."
"And your family would what—be park rangers instead of Lords and Ladies?" Jacob looked like he was imagining each of them in Park Ranger uniform. "I don't think it works that way."
"It doesn't in the slightest," said Salsify. "We've got to keep the land, and manage it and have tenants who pay rent to get enough money to spend on keeping up the house and the rest of the property. Even with magic there's always something that needs fixing up." She gestured at the pond they'd been slaving over. "Especially with magic. No, if we break the deal that gives us the title, the land goes too. It reverts to the King and then the muggles can do whatever they like with it. And that's never pretty. It's all factories and steel mills and mining. Inefficient and produces gobs of smog. Have you ever tried to ride a broomstick over Manchester, Mister Kowalski?"
"I can't say that I have," said Jacob, amused by Salsify's tendency to forget that he wasn't a wizard.
"Don't. I've never had such a revolting experience in all my life."
Sal shuddered, and changed the subject.
"Where are your lovely ladies?" she asked.
"Theseus came home early, and he said he wanted to show them something. Take them on a walk or something like that."
Newt, in the middle of a sandwich himself, swallowed quickly. "What did he want to show them? Where? Why didn't you go along?"
Jacob looked at Newt funny. "I don't know. Something across the lake," he nodded toward the far shore. "He asked if I wanted to go too, but I was still fixing lunch. I don't think it was a big deal though."
Newt looked at Salsify for support. She shrugged. "Oh you know Theseus, he likes a chance to cozy up to every guest to try to get them hooked on his charms. Regale them with old war stories. It's probably harmless. Maybe."
Newt stood up. "I think the ducks should be done for now," he said to Salsify. "Thank you for the sandwiches, Jacob."
He walked away quickly, ignoring Jacob's protests. He whistled once, sharply, and after a few moments of quick walking, Corwin the hippogriff swooped down from the sky with a hawk's cry. He put his wing down for Newt and he grabbed on, hauling himself up and onto Corwin's back. It might be something innocuous, but Newt wanted to see for himself exactly what his brother wanted to show his wife and sister-in-law. If he was careful, they wouldn't even know he was there.
-o-o-o-
Newt looked out across the lake. There were of course many places that Theseus could have taken Queenie and Tina, but the most obvious one was the rocky outcropping that he and Salsify had been eying earlier. It would be just like Theseus to use his "position" to leapfrog over the better judgment of the rest of them. The air above the lake was wide open, and Newt wasn't sure he should follow them openly. While sneaking about was not his strong suit, Newt had to admit that he was very curious about what Theseus wanted to show Tina and Queenie, and even more about why.
He'd known that two well-connected MACUSA witches would be a draw for Theseus. Newt briefly entertained the idea that he was feeling jealous of Theseus, but that was not it exactly. Theseus was certainly not above using his very classic good looks to get whatever he wanted, but Newt had only ever heard of him being involved with anybody in the mildest of terms. He had never even begun courting anyone that Newt knew of. His name had been in the muggle society papers in connection with a few ladies whose brothers he'd gone to muggle university with, but Theseus had always laughed. As if he could become attached to a muggle. Of course he'd settle down and marry, he'd assured their mother, but it would have to be a witch. Otherwise there was too great a chance of the children being non-magical. Gloriana and George had looked at each other over the dinner table, but as usual they hadn't openly chastised Theseus.
Newt had half-wished that all Theseus' children turned out to be squibs, just to spite him, but that line of thinking would only come back to bite him, for then he'd be the heir, and suddenly become responsible for things that he had no interest in devoting his life to. Trade treaties and imports and exports were completely not his area, and to be confined to Blethering and never again allowed to travel would be awful. But still, he knew if there was truly no one else, he couldn't abandon the family duty completely. It was too important.
Looking below had yielded nothing, but when he crested a little bit of low-hanging cloud-cover, Corwin suddenly ducked back down. Newt looked up, and could see the silhouettes of three flying horses above him. The Aetherions that his mother bred were sleek and graceful. They were considered the classic mode of transport for elite wizarding families, but no winged horse was a match for a hippogriff in terms of strength or maneuverability. Corwin dropped back a few paces at Newt's urging, and then shot up, using an updraft of air to rise above the winged horses.
So far, their direction did seem to be taking them toward the rocky outcropping, but then they veered off. Newt caught a glimpse of the ground below, and realized that they'd reached the far side of the lake. At least Theseus was being sensible and dismounting before going up. Heaven knew she might not react well to seeing an aerial threat. Newt urged Corwin around the far side of the cloud cover, which conveniently touched down as mist in the stand of trees closest to Theseus and the girls. Corwin descended, and Newt thanked him for coming when he needed help. Corwin was ready to stand and stay with Newt, but he urged him to do what he liked, the next part would be fairly dodgy.
Newt looked out past a large pine and could see Tina and Queenie listening as Theseus expounded on something or other. Newt wished he had a listening spell at hand, but anything he knew would immediately be evident to Theseus. For all his bragging and scorn Theseus was a good wizard, and it would do not to forget it. Just because they had different talents didn't mean either of them was the better or worse magic user.
Growing up relatively isolated, as they had, had been hard on Theseus, and he'd made friends with the village boys in a way that Newt hadn't. But as soon as he'd been to Hogwarts, especially as soon as he'd been accepted into Slytherin, he would no longer meet his playmates in the village. His attitude changed completely, and he saw himself as above them, no matter how many times George and Gloriana made him muck out the stables without magic. He eventually learned to act as if he still enjoyed their company, to keep everyone happy. Indeed Theseus went out of his way to help wizards and muggles alike. George and Gloriana were relieved at this change in behavior, but Newt knew that inside Theseus still saw himself as a sort of benevolent ruler. And he certainly looked it as he spoke earnestly to the girls on the shore of the lake.
Tina was looking around herself, not seeming to attend Theseus at all. Newt watched her as she looked up at the craggy entrance, and felt a sudden hot rush. So maybe he was jealous after all. If should be him who was showing Tina their family's work—the only part of it he'd ever cared about—and not Theseus, who'd barely been able to take basic flight duties. He could rush in and interrupt them, but then he'd have to admit he'd been spying, and they'd know that he disapproved. It would once again set Theseus up as the open and reasonable one, and Newt as controlling and unhinged. How had this dynamic been reached so quickly?
Theseus seemed to have finished his grand speech, as he offered his arms to the Goldstein sisters. Oh, he was likely sidealong apparating them up to the top. The prohibition on apparation was absent in this part of the estate due to safety concerns. Newt looked back and saw that Corwin was still standing there. He would wait.
"Thank you," Newt said aloud. Then he thought of a place where he wouldn't be seen at the top of the hill. The whole thing looked like a pile of stones stacked haphazardly atop one another, but a little alcove off to the side offered some cover from the front, so he apparated. He had managed not to appear on top of the others, but it was a close thing. Newt peeked out and stared at Tina, feeling very silly for not revealing himself. But somehow he still didn't want to get caught. How far would Theseus go? What would he tell them about what was inside?
Tina was wearing a warm overcoat that may have belonged to Salsify, for while it fit at the top, it left her legs bare from the mid-thigh. Certainly it had been intended to be a little longer. She had mittens that she kept taking in and out of her pockets without actually putting them on. Newt hoped that someone had remembered to do a warming spell on her in the air, as he didn't know if that was something that she remembered. At least she was wearing a hat. This one was her own black cloche, which looked very well on her though Newt wasn't sure how warm it was. He wished Theseus would get on with things and get the girls out of the cold. Tina was standing on the side of Theseus closest to where he was and she her head swung around suddenly.
He ducked quickly, and she was distracted by Theseus' incantation to open the first level of enclosure spells. The way that he did it was very flashy, and very foolish, as he shouldn't ever speak a word of it aloud. Newt wanted to leap out and scold him, but he couldn't very well do that if he wanted to keep a low profile.
The place they were standing was a huge flat rock that they could stand on comfortably. It looked as though it stood before the entrance of a cave. That wasn't strictly true, as the rocky hills could not support a cavern large enough for the Scamander's purpose. But nevertheless, the entrance required them to stoop down and descend an uneven rocky stair. Theseus took the lead, then Queenie, who thank goodness was still wearing the necklace that his mother had found her, and then Tina, whose attention now seemed focused purely on what lay ahead.
Once they were a little further ahead, Newt stepped up to the entrance. He silently formed the words of the incantation in his mind, stepped through, and then neatly performed the charm to close the spell behind them. Had Theseus really been so careless or had he known Newt was there? He couldn't say, but stepping down into the rush of warm air, Newt couldn't help feeling excited. She'd scold him for taking so long to come see her. It had been over a year and now again he'd been at Blethering for days without coming up. Still, she'd always been unusually tolerant of him, and as uneasy as he felt about her favoritism when he stopped to think about it, being with her was always a pleasure.
They reached the landing where there was a kind of stone balcony that overlooked the the vast space. Theseus turned to the girls, raised his hands and said something theatrical, finishing up with an over-the-top, "Behold!" as they looked out across what had to be several quiddich pitches worth of space.
Newt nearly gave himself away by snorting aloud, but that was muffled by Queenie's squeak and Tina's indrawn breath as they saw what lay at the other side of the vastness of the space before them. It was a hollowed out depression in the rocky terrain, roofed by rock and lovingly filled with soft sand, the broader ceiling between here and there made entirely of the magic of generations of Scamanders. There was a bit of a rocky shelf to the back, but the entire area underneath was filled with glinting scales, that as one looked, slowly resolved themselves into two dragons, one nearly half again as large as the other, limbs and tails intertwined. The smaller one was bright gold and the size of one of the cottages in the village, while the larger one was much paler.
"I knew it was dragons!" Queenie exclaimed, laughing in wonder. "I just knew it!"
"Wow!" said Tina loudly. Newt, from where he was hanging back beside some over sheltering rocks, had to smile at the amazed expression on her face. Theseus spoke again, seeming a little miffed now that neither of the girls was paying him the slightest mind. Tina dodged around the large rocks by the top of the overlook and scrambled down the rough-hewn stone stair toward the floor of the space where the dragons lay coiled at the far end. Queenie called after her to stop, then started following her down. Newt waited for Theseus to stop Tina, but he merely stood at the top of the overlook, watching Tina's progress toward the dragons.
What on earth was he waiting for? Their father obviously wasn't around. The dogs weren't outside for one thing, and George's abilities would have made it plain that there were by now unwanted guests putting themselves in danger without being properly warned. And if he were with the dragons, Newt could not imagine that Theseus would have had a chance to show off the family business. George was much less inclined to showing off, and as far as Newt knew, no one besides the family had been allowed in. The female dragon had probably spotted Tina as soon as she reached the stair, but her raised nostrils flared and the crest at her neck flared out as Tina reached the floor. Newt couldn't wait any longer, apparating next to Tina, catching up her startled frame and coming back to land up on the overlook.
Tina stumbled back when they arrived, pulling her wand out of her coat and pointing it at him before she realized who it was that had grabbed her. She put a hand to her heaving chest.
"Geez! You can't just come up and scare somebody like that!" she wheezed. "I was just gonna get close enough to see them a little better!"
"You'd already got close enough to become lunch!" Newt said in exasperation. He scowled over his shoulder at his brother, who did not seem terribly surprised to see him.
"I just wanted to—" but Tina's words were drowned out by a resounding call and the scraping of scales as the dragons changed positions. The male shifted as the female rose, and she stretched her wings with a whoosh that echoed through the space. Her beautiful metallic scales glinted in the sunlight that filtered through the ceiling spells onto her outspread wings. The dragon glided forward, closing the vast distance in seconds, and coming to a stop with a cry right before them, her head by the overlook.
Queenie had ducked down at the top of the stair, looking frightened. Theseus' face was blank, when Newt glanced back over his shoulder at him, but he had his wand held before him in a white-knuckled grip. What on earth had the idiot expected to happen?
Newt moved Tina behind him and stepped up onto the narrow stone railing so that he was more on the level of the dragon's head. He reached out a hand, and the soft scales of her snout butted carefully against it.
"Yes, yes, I'm sorry. I should have come right away. But things have been complicated, and I didn't want to burden you with my problems. And you're absolutely right. It was dreadfully rude to bring guests in who have not been properly introduced, and I apologize...well you're not wrong there. It was Theseus' doing," Newt admitted. No sense in trying to cover up Theseus' poor behavior, since George would doubtless be hearing about it as soon as he got back in to the dragon's lair.
"But these are not Theseus' people," Newt hurried to clarify. "In fact, as long as you'll not scare her, I'd like you to meet somebody."
Newt laughed, and turned to Tina, who was staring at him in amazement.
"Are you laughing at—the dragon?" Tina said carefully. Tina looked so like herself that Newt felt comfortably back to their usual dynamic where he's the half-crazy one and she's the voice of reason cutting into his mad plans. Not that she couldn't come up with plenty of mad plans of her own, but it was still somehow heartening to see the disapproving yet interested raise of her eyebrow once more. Newt hopped down from the rail and moved over to Tina.
"Yes, she's very funny," he said.
"But I can't hear anything. Is this like your Mom—animal legilimency?" Tina asked, as he ushered her forward.
"Not exactly," said Newt. "I don't read her thoughts, I just know what she's saying."
"But I didn't hear anything—that doesn't make any sense!"
Newt grinned at her. "I always find it endlessly amusing how quick witches and wizards are to discount the vagaries of magic when they fall out of their scope of experience."
He put he hand on her back and urged her to take the last few steps to the rail.
"This isn't exactly how I'd envisioned this meeting going," he said, turning back to the huge golden eyes of the dragon who was interestedly sitting on her haunches and stretching her neck up to just the right height. "But nevertheless, I'm very pleased to introduce my wife, Porpentina Scamander. She very regrettably does not remember any of the times I've talked about you, but at one point she could not wait to meet your acquaintance."
The dragon shifted, bringing her head even closer to Tina and blinking politely.
Tina looked at Newt for help, and he sort of mimed a half-bow half curtsy that meant pick one, but Tina just copied him. She looked uncomfortable with that part, but then she stepped forward all on her own, taking in all the splendor of the dragon. Newt hear Queenie's gasp from behind them, and waved his hand to indicate that all was well.
"Hi," Tina breathed, reaching the railing and stepping up onto it. "You sure are beautiful. And huge."
Newt laughed again. "She likes you," he said. "And you are right. Please allow me to introduce our own Queenie—Regina draconis—the only Great English White in existence, at least for the moment."
He nodded toward the far end where the male dragon was now trying to make himself large enough to cover the entire nest in the back of the lair.
Tina looked at him, understanding dawning, then back at the dragon before her, smiling hugely.
"Wow, so you're gonna have babies soon? We haven't been telling most people this, but Newt and I are gonna have a baby too!"
Newt didn't have time to look behind him to see if Theseus heard. For Reggie had leapt into the air, snatched Tina up in one careful talon and soared back the way she had come. In a flash, Newt met them at the nest, Queenie's scream still echoing across the space from now the opposite end. The male dragon startled and hissed at his appearance.
"Sorry, she just took my mate, I'm sure under the circumstances you can see how that would be troubling. Yes I know she'll be careful. But we've been going over this for centuries with you lot. Dragon careful is not the same as wizard careful which even then is nothing like muggle careful. I'm now glad that Jacob's been kept so busy, he might never recover from this."
By now, Reggie had gently deposited Tina on the soft sand of the bottom of the lair. Tina, thankfully, didn't seem so much frightened by the experience as invigorated. Her cheeks were pink, and she stepped right up to the edge of the nest as Reggie indicated.
"Thanks," Tina said to her.
The male dragon was a rare Easling Gold. The Scamanders had spent most of Newt's childhood hunting up acceptable mates and introducing them to Reggie. It had taken great feats of diplomacy, many permits, and heartening shows of international wizarding cooperation as they flew dragons back and forth from their native habitats to "interview" with Reggie, as had been the epithet Gloriana used around children when she remembered. He'd been out of the house already when this dragon had showed up, though he'd been involved in the process like they all had. Still, Newt was not nearly so comfortable with Tina so close to the male dragon as he was with Reggie, and without quite noticing it he had gripped his wand inside his coat pocket.
The male, sensing some threat, recoiled over the nest. Reggie exhaled, and gave them all a pointed look. Newt guiltily released his wand. She brushed back her mate from the nest so that Tina could see the eight eggs, each one more uniquely beautiful than the last, clustered close by one another.
Newt crouched down, stretching out a hand but waiting for Reggie's permission before touching. She graciously nodded, and Newt was thrilled to find that the eggs were properly scalding and also that there were signs of movement in many of the eggs, especially the large off-white one that was covered with an even sheen of gold. The outside of an egg really couldn't tell you that much about the dragonet inside, but Newt was as hopeful as his father that this egg would be the next White Queen. English Whites, as far as the Scamanders knew, and their knowledge stretched back merely centuries when millennia would be more useful, had never been so much a breed of dragon as a phenomenon. There were only two at a time, and they were always female. Reggie was not the original Dragon of England, the one that had got the Scamanders set up with all this land and entangled in muggle politics, but she was the next one on. Though they hoped that she would live for another century at least, it was exciting to live during her breeding years.
Tina had knelt beside Newt, and had also placed her hand on an egg, this one a bit smaller, with big silver splotches over a cream backdrop.
"It's so hot!" She marveled, removing her hand after a second. "But I could feel movement inside! How much longer before they hatch?"
Newt stood up. "I can understand my parents' anxiety much better now."
Of course they wanted him home. The last time there had been dragonets at Blethering had been Reggie's hatching, and the records kept about how long the eggs incubated for had been spotty at best. George hadn't really had any idea how long they were looking at. Dragons went anywhere from six months to ten years between laying and hatching their eggs, and they had figured that since Reggie was so huge she'd be on the longer end of the spectrum. But now, just five years in, the eggs showed every indication of hatching soon.
He got up and smiled at Reggie.
"This is very exciting! My goodness, if these all hatch the next few years around here are going to be very busy indeed!"
What were his parents thinking letting Theseus have his friends up for the Christmas holidays? They should get every Scamander aunt, uncle, and cousin down here, since they were going to have to sit with the eggs constantly, probably starting around now, until their hatching, and then they'd have to feed the little ones—goodness, there was a lot to do. Could the five of them plus Tina, Queenie, Jacob and Sikes cope if the dragonets emerged right away?
Newt looked around, dazed, and jumped when a heavy hand clapped onto his shoulder. He turned and saw the very serious face of his father, one hand on his shoulder and one on Tina's, as he hauled them back and away from the nest. The next thing they knew, he had apparated them back to the overlook, where Queenie stood wringing her hands and wiping away tears.
George set his hands of the railing, his back to them, and looked out over the lair. He look a breath and then turned toward them, fuming.
"Newton, please explain exactly what you were thinking, bringing two completely unqualified witches into such a dangerous situation? You forget—the way the dragons treat you is absolutely nothing like the way they view other human beings. If Theseus had not come to get me, your recklessness could have gotten Tina killed."
George's anger remained a burning ember even as he solicitiously helped Queenie back to the gamekeeper's cabin, going so far as to summon the carriage pulled by winged horses to transport her across the lake. Queenie seemed to be in shock from the fear of her sister being eaten by dragons, as well as having twisted her ankle when she'd tried to follow Tina down the stair. Newt felt extremely guilty that he hadn't checked on Queenie immediately once he'd gotten Tina to safety, but he had been so focused on Tina and Reggie that he hadn't even spared her a thought.
Newt and Tina sat on the red velvet bench of the carriage across from George and Queenie looking like two kicked puppies. On top of Queenie's unfortunate misstep, Newt felt badly for having got Tina in trouble, though some small part of him rebelled at the idea of a lot of grown witches and wizards still being subject to tattling and being punished by ones parents like schoolchildren. Newt himself was responsible for a casefull of endangered creatures. The fate of entire species rested in his hands. Yet he was also responsible for Tina, and he kept forgetting that for all she was becoming more lucid and having better interactions and her longest and shortest term memory seemed improved, she was still not herself.
Perhaps he ought to have been more careful with her. He honestly didn't know how much personal defense magic she remembered.
The carriage landed gracefully outside the gamekeeper's cabin and George levitated Queenie carefully through to her bedroom. Once Queenie was tucked in bed and Jacob was summoned to look after her, George asked Newt to come with him up to the house.
"Can I come too?" asked Tina in a small but determined voice.
George looked like he was about to refuse, but then abruptly nodded his head and strode off through the back gardens and through the French doors into the Drawing Room. Newt and Tina followed silently and warily seated themselves on the blue velvet sofa.
George paced around by the fireside as if he were a caged lion. Newt couldn't take more than a few moments of this and started, "Father, Theseus brought them there, I just showed up when—"
"When what? When you saw that your brother was interacting with your guests—guests who are now family to all of us, and not your own private property?"
"They're not—we're all adults, father, I'm not treating them like playthings," said Newt. His cheeks burned at the accusation. "But why did Theseus bring them out and then abandoned them once I revealed myself?"
"Revealed yourself? You accuse me of treating you like children, yet you yourself were playing hide-and-seek with your own wife's safety—with your own child?"
"I had everything under control—Tina was in no danger! Ask Reggie—"
"I know that you and Regina have an unusually strong bond—one which makes it all the more strange that you so casually abandon her when it suits you—but the male has no such attachments. If he'd struck at Tina there would have been nothing you could do about it."
"He was looking to Reggie. If you'd just ask her—"
"Enough! One can't simply ask the Dragon of England to arbitrate fraternal disputes!" George walked up to the window and pressed his fist against the frame.
"What absolutely awful luck I've got. One son who's scared stiff of the dragons and another who doesn't have the slightest flicker of the natural respect that we ought to have for nature's most awesome predator."
"But you also have a daughter, right?" said Tina, speaking for the first time.
George was startled by her interjection.
"That's true. And she'd likely make a more competent Lord Warden than either of you boys! Unfortunately Salsify is not eligible."
"Because she's a woman?" Tina asked.
George sighed. "It's true that traditionally she cannot hold the official title, though there have been witches who performed the duties involved at Blethering. But before we had any children Gloriana and I decided that no girl would be required to stay at home, because we could not be certain that she'd ever be recognized by the Crown as an heir. We could never tie her to the estate when she wouldn't have any security."
"But you'd do that to me and Tina, even while Theseus sneaks around plotting for influence knowing he's getting the whole thing?" Newt asked sulkily. He hated the conflicting feelings that he had about Blethering and Reggie and all the rest of it. He loved the dragons, the hippogriffs, the hills and the lakes, but he couldn't get stuck here forever, especially not when Theseus would continue to be the legal heir.
George threw up his hands. "And what would you have me do, cast Theseus out and give it all to you? You've spent your entire life claiming that you want nothing more than to get away from this place, but here you are, having come to us of your own free will, telling me that the reason you won't do your duty is some sort of jealousy of your brother?"
He was quite worked up now, tearing at his hair so that it stuck up like a red halo. Newt wasn't certain if he'd ever seen his father so upset. He shrunk back against the back of the sofa as George continued to berate him.
"You think that just because he doesn't get on with the dragons that Theseus isn't doing anything to advance this family's work, but he has the ear of the Minister of Magic, and the muggle parliament as well. Just this past session he introduced legislation to add hundreds of acres of property to the historic landmarks trust—land that could insure space for both wizards and magical creatures to exist without muggle interference. He has also helped to place countless wizards and witches into muggle universities to help further their education and influence muggle discussion around issues our community believes are important. Theseus is a great politician, and just because he doesn't have Reggie wrapped around his finger the way you do doesn't make him any less a Scamander."
Newt stared blankly at the floor. Perhaps he was letting years of bullying, of animosity and disagreements cloud his judgment. Somehow he didn't doubt that Theseus was a great politician, just the way he had never doubted that Theseus was a great war hero, convincing muggle field troops to work together with magical deployment, saving countless lives and doing so at great risk to himself. Yet the way he lorded his position over others, the way he wouldn't hesitate to bully to get his way, rankled with Newt and made trust impossible.
"But why did Theseus bring my friends to the lair in the first place?" asked Newt.
"He told this morning that he would be inviting your guests to see the dragons after lunch—not to confront them in their nest, but to view them from the overlook—because he thought that you'd been dancing around things and confusing them. I would have been there to show them around but for more trouble in the village."
Newt exhaled sharply.
"But then why didn't he tell me—"
"Why didn't you ask him what he was doing instead of sneaking about after him?"
Newt closed his mouth, swallowed and glanced at Tina.
"I didn't want to seem petty," he admitted. "Theseus has made me out to be controlling—"
Now George sighed. "You boys really do bring out the worst in one another. You couldn't be controlling if you tried. It's one of your best points, really, but the fear of becoming what you hate has made you too sensitive on the point. And Theseus has been doing so well, even going so far as to invite a girl down for the holidays."
"A girl?" Now Newt was sitting straight up. "I thought it was just a few fellows from the Ministry."
"You saw how close those eggs are getting to hatching. I think if it were just a few boys from the office your mother would have made him wait til spring at least. But this is the first time Theseus has specially asked to have a witch down, and we thought the least we could do was make it as easy on him as possible."
Newt blinked.
"But that doesn't necessarily mean he's—"
George sighed. "No it doesn't. We're trying not to get our hopes up. But then neither of you boys has exactly been forthcoming about romantic matters. I think your mother and I were both moved to tears when Salsify confessed her crush on Timmy Longbottom second year—perhaps grandchildren were not a completely hopeless dream."
He seemed to remember once again that Tina was there, and the particulars of the situation, and became slightly embarrassed.
"Of course, that is turning out much differently than we could ever have imagined." He indicated Tina who was still sitting rigid on the sofa, and sighed.
"I must apologize to you, Tina, for getting so worked up. But we have a very serious duty to discharge, especially now that the next generation of eggs is about to hatch. We need all the help we can get, so please know that your presence here is appreciated. We're very glad to have you."
Tina couldn't quite manage a smile, but she nodded.
The door handle jiggled, and Salsify came bouncing into the room oblivious to the somber mood. She had changed back into skirts under her robes and had a packet of post under her arm.
"Owl for you, Tina!" she said brightly. "I wonder who knows you're here?"
She was about to turn over the envelope when Newt rose and plucked it from her hands.
"It's from the midwife," Tina said, looking at the return address when he handed it to her.
Newt froze, and Salsify did a double take when she saw his face.
"Wait, what?"
Newt wasn't sure what to say, so he looked at his father. George was carefully looking out the window.
"I think I'd better get back to work before dinner," he said. He retreated back the way he'd come, and Newt watched as he hastened out the back door.
"Midwife?" Salsify repeated.
Tina bit her lip. "Oh yeah, you didn't know about the baby." She smacked the letter against the sofa. "I'm getting real tired of all this back and forth who knows what business."
Salsify whirled to Newt.
"You didn't want to tell me? Why? Why does everything have to become so complicated whenever you're here?" She turned on her toe and strode back across the room.
"Sally, wait—" Newt said, but his sister was already out the door. Newt turned to Tina, but she was shaking her head at him.
"Let her cool off. Let's go upstairs and see what Jane says we should do next," Tina said.
Newt helped her up. For once he was perfectly willing to be told what to do by Jane Moon-Leanfear, especially as he'd been making a mess of it on his own.