Chapter Two

The journey.

Even though he was heartbroken, Newt knew he had to go to New York to be there for Tina. Like she said, he needed to see Jacob again, and of course Queenie, though honestly he found her a bit intimidating. She knew more about him, he felt, than he knew about himself, and she wasn't afraid of asking questions. Suddenly, Newt found himself temped to call up Leta Lestrange, see what she was up to these days, if she'd like to travel to New York for a wedding. He knew he couldn't do that, he never really would, but it'd be satisfying in a sick sort of way to see Tina's face as he walked into her wedding with Leta on his arm. She didn't like to read, though, in answer to Tina's question, and that was just one of her problems.

This whole mental exchange left Newt feeling thoroughly ashamed of himself. There was a time when he considered Porpentina his best friend, and he knew that whatever bitterness he felt towards her at the moment, she would always be a good friend and he would always regret it if he skipped her wedding out of some sort of spite. He'd need to arrange care for his creatures, of course, he didn't want another incident like the one that had occurred the last time he'd been in the states. He wondered if, perhaps, the gamekeeper at Hogwarts would be up for the job, but somehow he doubted it. Maybe he'd better just take it with him and be more careful this time.

Two days later, Newt stood onboard a steam ship bound for America, his case by his side. It was tied shut with sturdy twine, and it was muggle-worthy for now. He'd have to open it at least once every two days to care for his animals, but other than that he was determined to keep it shut. At least this time, Jacob, Tina, and Queenie would be helping him, rather than hindering him and causing disasters. He was excited to see his friends again, although he was slightly disappointed at the circumstances.

Every time he thought of the impending wedding, Newt wanted to kick himself. He was too timid, he knew that. He should've asked her to go with him, or he should've come back more often. He should've hand-delivered her copy of his book, the way he'd promised. He shouldn't have let her stay there without him, thinking of him only when she wrote him letters. He should've made sure she couldn't forget him. Maybe if he'd been there, she would be changing her name to Porpentina Scamander instead of Porpentina Wilkes. Though he never would've married her in March, it was much too cold. Perhaps he'd have married her in his case, they could've taken Jacob and Queenie and someone from MACUSA who could marry them. The mooncalf nest was lovely, the way the moonlight shone on it. That would've been beautiful. He knew Tina would look stunning in whatever she wore, she wouldn't have had to wear white if she'd not wanted to.

Lost in thought, Newt leaned on the rail of the ship, and so failed to notice when another man stood next to him. He was tall, this man, and he had a beard and a hat. There were broken glasses tucked into the pocket of his ill-fitting pinstripe vest and his pants sagged a little, but he carried himself with dignity, a pride bordering on pompous. He glanced at Newt and seemed to lock on; he began carefully studying the smaller man. His eyes didn't seem to miss anything as they icily examined his every feature. After a moment, he leaned back and began surveying the ship in a much more casual manner.

"The states?" he asked, pulling Newt from his thoughts. His voice was smooth and posh.

"Oh, yes, right. New York."

"Business or pleasure?"

"Neither."

"Are you on the run?"

"Oh, heavens, no," Newt was taken aback. "No, I'm going to a wedding."

"I think that'd count as pleasure, then, yes?"

"Well, no, not in… not in this case." Newt turned, trying to leave the awkward conversation.

"Do you like the couple, then? Who's getting married?"

"I suppose so, the bride's an… old friend."

"And you wish she were marrying you instead of the other fellow?"

"You're very astute."

"You're a man crossing the Atlantic for a wedding, but you wouldn't count it as pleasure. It wasn't that difficult. I'm Ezekiel. Ezekiel Nordquist." He turned from gazing at the ship to stick his hand out for Newt to shake.

"Newt. Newt Scamander."

"Pleased to meet you, Newt. I'm headed to New York on business, myself."

"What sort, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Not at all, not at all. I'm something of a consultant. A politician in New York needs some… consulting."

"Oh, well, that… sounds interesting."

"It is."

"I think… perhaps I'd better head back to my room, sorry. It's been… interesting."

"Indeed, it has. Perhaps we shall see each other again."

"Maybe." Newt ducked his head and tried his best to blend in with the crowd as he walked away. He could not shake the ill feeling that was crawling up his spine, as though he'd just teetered on the edge of a very high precipice. He was so intent on getting away that he did not notice the man behind him flicking his wand back into his coat.