AN: Sorry for the delay. While this chapter is not in my typical style, I hope you enjoy it. Please review and follow!
Newt rarely came home for lunch during the work day. However, since his trip to America, he had been politely forbidden from bring his case to work. While he understood the ministry's reasoning, (can't have a beast run wild through the Ministry) it did make parts of his life significantly more inconvenient. Since his last letter to Tina, two other mooncalf's had given birth. So the last week and a half he had been going home during his lunch hour to check on the mothers and pups.
'Since my last letter to Tina…' he thought to himself sadly as he climbed out of his case. He wrote to her on the 5th and he had yet to hear back from her. Valentine's day had come and gone without a single word. Maybe he had rushed it, it might have been too soon in their relationship. 'She might have hated the stuffed niffler.' he told himself.
He didn't know why she had not written back, however he did know that he felt terrible. There was this ache in his chest he couldn't quite explain. Had Tina rejected him? The pain intensified. Did Billy ask her to be his Valentine before him? He felt an uncomfortable rushing in his ears.
No, he reasoned. Tina was a lady and would at least have had the decency to write him back even if she had accepted someone else's offer. He knew that Tina would never intentionally hurt him, she was different then Leta.
Then, why hadn't he heard from her? He took a deep breath and resolved to write her a letter when he got back from work today. There was no point in worrying, he knew that.
As he readied himself to apparate back to work, his concentration was interrupted by a tapping on his window. A large international owl was resting on the outside sill working to get his attention.
'It must be a letter from Tina.' Newt thought as he rushed over to the sill, accepted the letter from the large bird, and then, with less grace then he usually used, tore open the envelope.
February 17th, 1927
Mr. Scamander,
I know you have been waiting for Teenie's letter and I'm sorry this is the best I can do. However, right now, she isn't really able to write. The thing is, she has been asking for you. She is trying to write to you. I swear, I'm going to include what she has been able to manage.
Please don't be mad at her for taking so long. Please.
I guess I should explain myself better. I'm so sorry about all of this.
Tina got ambushed about a week and a half ago, by some wizards in an underground potion brewing ring. Or at least that is what Madam Picquary told me. They really haven't told me much of anything else. They said it might be goblin related, but there is no proof. I guess, Tina had been tracking this potions ring for a while now and she was getting close to whatever she was supposed to find. She is okay, for the most part, at least physically.
You saved her life. That pin you gave her saved her life. I don't know how to thank you. I will never be able to repay you for your kindness to Teenie. I can't thank you enough.
I'm not sure on all the details, I'm sure when she is fully recovered we will both know all about it. I can't even read her mind most of the time. However she is having terrible nightmares. What I can see, is terrifying.
I guess she and Billy were ambushed one evening on their way back to MACUSA. Tina got Billy out of harm's way. It seems like she was putting up a good fight. Someone shot a killing curse at her and it rebounded. I guess, knowing they couldn't get her from a distance, they changed their tactics. Two people rushed her, and she was over-powered. While she was down, she was stabbed with a poisoned knife.
It was pretty fast acting. Billy blew up a store front to get MACUSA's attention, aurors showed up and got Tina to a hospital really fast. She was under observation for four days and the doctors say she is going to get better, but that the poison has to work its way out of her system of its own. Nothing they tried can extract it. They don't know the poison or the potion that was on the blade. They got her in the ribs, and deep. I think the potion makes her relive her worst memories. She has been mumbling in her sleep, about mom and dad, about Credence, about you.
She has been home the past week, and it's kind of getting better, bit by bit. Teenie never did like hospitals, and the doctors swear that with time she'll be okay. They said she'd do better at home, better in a familiar place. So Billy and I got her home safely. She drifts in an out of consciousness, she is delirious most of the time from fever, but she is always asking about you. That little stuffed niffler you sent her, she keeps it in bed with her. I've read her your letters, over and over again. She keeps the bundled with a ribbon next to her bed. Any time she wakes up and asks, I read them. During the day, I give her paper and pen and she tries to write back to you. I think, she is worried you are mad at her since she never wrote you back. Please don't be mad at her.
Billy comes by every day, says he feels guilty, but I don't know. I can't really get into his mind. He says that people are constantly asking about Tina at MACUSA. I guess she is more popular then she thought, because Billy is always bring meals that people at work are making for her. She can barely eat, if she does, it's only bits at a time. However all the casseroles do help with the cost of food. Tina's not working and neither am I, but I'm sure we are going to be fine. At least we still have each other.
So things are pretty bad out here, Mr. Scamander. I'm sorry for being the bearer of bad news. However, I promise when Tina is better, she'll write back. I know you'll wait for her, but I just wanted you to know. I am sorry it took me so long to write in the first place. It's just been hectic here.
I'm so sorry.
Queenie Goldstein.
His tears fell on the page as he finished. They left winkled puddles next to, what appeared to be, Queenie's dried tears. He could tell by her uneven writing and the stained paper that she had been crying while writing to him. Of all the strange and intense feelings he had come to feel while writing to Tina, this feeling was unbearable.
It felt like his blood had run cold and there wasn't enough air to fill his lungs. It had started out as a few tears slowly running down Newt's check, which turned into a deep, sorrowful cry. His stomach turned.
He wept because he was worried and scared for Tina. She was somewhere he couldn't be, and he couldn't do anything to help. He was utterly powerless, and with that powerlessness, came a deep swelling feeling of hopelessness. It was as if a bleak depression had taken up residence in his mind. He hadn't felt this way since his expulsion from Hogwarts.
Bumbling Billy Bricks could do more than he could and that angered him. It enraged him, he found himself on his feet, pacing around his apartment. The roaring in his ears was back with full force. Tina was his love, and he wanted to help. He, of all people, should be there! "I shouldn't have been the last to know" he shouted into the silence.
The anger inside of him quickly turned cold, he collapsed into his chair and he wept from shame. Jealously had be eating at him, digging into the back of his brain and nesting. It felt like someone else has been occupying his mind. He didn't like the jealousy creature that had taken residence in his body, he loathed how it made him bitter. He hated that he was cursing a man that he didn't even know because Tina was hurt and he was fine. His jealousy was causing him to have irrational thought. He knew they were irrational, but he couldn't stop them. They rained down before he could stop them. 'It's Billy's fault' he told himself. 'He should have protected her!' 'It was him who should have been hurt, not Tina.' Those hateful thoughts made him cry harder, because it was so unlike his standard self.
A part of him, also wept from relief. He had been so afraid that Tina was mad at him. That sending a gift and asking her to be his Valentine was too much, too forwards, too unlike himself. He felt like he didn't know himself anymore. He thought she was disgusted with him, when she really was fighting for her life. The relief crept back into shame.
He had been here thinking the worst and Tina had been suffering. He cried until he could no longer, and by the time he had calmed down he noticed that Dougal had his head resting on Newt's knee. Newt turned his head and saw that he had left the case open and Dougal must have heard him. His head ached as he looked down at his silvery friend. Dougal pulled himself into Newt's lap, and hugged his human friend tightly.
Newt could feel himself relaxing. The demiguise's hug had a wonderful soothing effect. Newt returned the hug with a sigh. With that sigh, he let the last of his anger and sadness out of his body. Dougal could sense the change him, and he released Newt from his hug. Dougal nodded to a small pile of papers that had been included in Queenie's letter. He turned his doe eyes to Newt, and stared at him with an inquisitive gaze.
Newt fetched himself a glass of water and returned to Dougal to read the small bundle. On closer inspection he saw that they were Tina's letters that Queenie said she included.
2/10/27
N,
I miss you. I'm sorry.
2/14/27
Newt,
I want to be your valentine.
I want to see you. I wish you were here.
2/16/27
Newt,
I have nightmares about the cell, that night in MACUSA. Every time I sleep, I have nightmares. Everything bad that has ever happened, I see it all over again.
Mom, Dad, poverty, school, demotion, you losing your case, MACUSA cells, nightmares. I'm so tired, but I don't want to sleep. I'm scared. I need you. I'm scared.
None of the letters were signed. None of them were finished. He could tell by the slant of her writing that she was tired. She had written them while laying down.
Her last letter, which was her longest letter, was obviously written at different times during the day. He could tell because the direction of her writing changed with every sentences.
"I need you."
Newt took a deep breath and stood up. He didn't like to call in favors. He disliked when people around him did. It was the idea that all you needed to do was known the right people to get what you wanted, that he disliked He was very much a believer in hard work, so the very principle bothered him.
However, his principles could wait for another day.
Minister Tolipan was a well-groomed wizard of 55. His dark hair was slicked backed in the newest fashion and his dress robes were always of the most stylish cut. He wore a fine, large mustache which he kept impeccably groomed. In his opinion he had the finest mustache in all of the European wizarding world. Probably all of the wizarding world, if you asked him.
The minister's office was well decorated. Behind his desk sat a large, impressive dark leather chair which that happened to be the same color as his mustache. In front of his desk were several comfortable looking arm chairs for his guest. The general décor of his office gave off the appearance that he was an educated, and level-headed man. His shelves were covered with richly covered books, that had never been opened and different magical deceives that he had acquired, yet never used. Nothing in his office appearing threatening. However everything looked impressive.
He wasn't the youngest ministry of magic ever, however he prided himself on the fact that, due to his youth, he was likely to be in office a long time. Appearances were important him. He wanted to be seen as 'the people's Minister'. For this reason, he made himself as available as possible. Minster Tolipan's weeks were full of charity event, ground breaking ceremonies, speeches and his daily walk through Diagon Alley. During his walk, members of the public would greeting him, and he made it a point to stop by local stories, make purchases, and greet shopkeepers.
Even at the Ministry he kept his office door open in the morning. He wanted his employees to feel comfortable coming to him with thoughts and comments. He knew how to walk the fine line that most leaders often stumble over, how to appear friend yet stay in command.
So he wasn't surprised when his secretary informed him Newt Scamander was asking of an audience with him. It was often a rule that his afternoons were not to be interrupted, however he had even given the young man permission to enter. He was in the middle of drafting a letter to the Austrian Ministry of Magic. While he typically wouldn't let people interrupt his letter writing, he was trying to get the young man to attend more events on behalf of the Ministry. The last event he attended with his brother brought lots of positive press to the Ministry. He had no idea that when Scamander took a sabbatical to work on his book, that he would bring such fame to his administration. However, Tolipan wasn't going to complain.
The door open and he heard Scamander's footsteps across the floor and stop in front of his desk.
"Scamander, I am not going to give you an assistant for those creature cases." He said not looking up from his desk.
"That is no why I am here sir." Newt responded somewhat dryly. "What does one need to do to get an international portkey?"
Tolipan looked up from his letter slowly, inspecting the young man with his gaze. This was certainly not what he was expecting. The young man before him looked rumpled. While the younger Scamander brother was certainly less fashionable then his brother, the state he appeared in was…rough, to say the least. He could see a bundle of papers in his hand, and that his eyes were red. Could he have been crying?
Tolipan leaned back in his chair, running his hand over his mustache. "That will depends. How quickly do you need it by?"
"Today, if possible. Tomorrow, if it's not." Newt looked at him squarely in the eyes for several moments before looking away. The young man was serious. Tolipan raised his eyebrows. He used to work of the Department of Magical Transportation before he became minister. He knew it was possible to get a portkey, however, not likely.
"Well, an international portkey can take time. The Department of Magical Transportation would need to have approval from the governing body of whatever country you are trying to travel to and that could take several days."
"There should be no reason I won't be approved. Let's just say the Madam Picquary owes me a favor" Newt responded quickly.
"Well, you will also need my approval to travel." Tolipan said to Newt flatly, puffing up his chest a bit.
"I'll clear my calendar for any events you want me to attend." Newt shot back.
"Any events?" inquired the minister.
Newt nodded firmly.
Tolipan looked Newt over once again. Just two weeks ago this young man turned down and any all invitations that came his way. Tolipan knew that social graces were not the young man's strong suit, but the fact that he was will to attend anything any event, piqued his interest. Something in America meant enough to him that Newt would show his hand in the first round. No negations, no haggling, he was going to give the minster exactly what he wanted.
Tolipan had a hunch what this all might be about, since he did keep in correspondence with MACUSA. All the major heads of the international wizarding communities knew about the attack on the American auror who helped capture Grindelwald. At first, everyone was concerned that this attack perpetrated by Grindelwald's followers, however it had been made common knowledge that it was a American related problem. Tolipan knew the girl was in a critical condition several weeks ago. A side of him was surprised that he had not seen young Scamander earlier.
Then it dawned on Tolipan that no one had bothered inform the young man until now. A sense of guilt washed over the Minster. Here, he had known for at least a week that the American auror had been seriously injured and he never thought to tell Newt himself. That would explain the red eyes and disheveled appearance. While Tolipan prided himself on his looks, he wasn't sure he would be able to stay together if anything had happened to his dearest Mary. He knew that he would be beside himself if he found out almost two weeks later if something had happened to his wife and he didn't know about it right away.
Tolipan had already come to his conclusion. He knew that he would assist him. It would not be too hard to call in a few favors in the portkey office.
Silently, he also decided not to force too many events on the young Scamander. He did feel partly responsible for not telling him about the attack himself. He knew that Scamander spoke often, fondly and very highly of the MACUSA auror. However, there was one thing that he needed to know for sure if he was going to help the young man out.
"Is it about a creature?" Tolipan asked careful.
He watched the younger wizard flush and look away quickly.
"No sir." Scamander said firmly.
'So it was about the auror woman'. Tolipan thought to himself.
"I'll see what I can do." He said dismissing the young wizard. When the door behind him closed, the minster set his letter to the Austrian Minister of Magic aside, and started writing several memos. One by one he launched several special orange paper airplanes in the air, all labeled "URGENT".
By the end of the work day, Newt had a 12 hour portkey to New York in his possession. Someone from the Portkey Office stopped by his office to give him a bent soda bottle cap and the instructions. The portkey would activate a midnight, no matter where he was. It would deposit him in the MACUSA building, where someone would be waiting for him. At noon, London time, the following day, it would activate from his current location, and deposit him in the Ministry's Portkey Office.
Newt didn't know how many charity events, book signing, lectures, tea parties, quidditch matches and favors he had agreed to, he just knew that it was going to be a lot. Even the Malfoy family had difficulties getting an international portkey the same day. However he would worry about his obligations to the Minster when it was time. All that mattered now was getting to Tina, she needed him.
With several hours before the portkey activated, Newt turned his attention to his second very pressing issue. He needed to find someone who would watch his case. That was the stipulation by both the Ministry and MACUSA. Neither would allow him to travel via the portkey with his case. He understood, normal portkey travel was terrible so he couldn't imagine what an international portkey would feel like, let alone what it would do to a magical case of creatures all being contained by charms.
He used the floo network to call Theseus, however he was not home. His house elf informed Newt that his master was expected to be away for several days. Theseus had been invited into the country for a few days with several old war buddies. The house elf offered to contact Theseus directly, however Newt declined. Theseus had been a big help to him as of recently and he didn't want to push more obligations on his brother.
In desperation, he grabbed his case and apparated to Hogsmead.
It had been years since he set foot in Hogwarts castle, however, the only other person Newt felt like he could trust with his case was Professor Dumbledore. He had sent an owl ahead of him, once he landed in Hogsmead, hoping that his old professor would meet in him at the entrance of the great school.
He was pleased, not only to be met at the doors by his former professor, but by how quickly Dumbledore offered to assist him.
"It's no trouble, Mr. Scamander. No trouble at all." He said reassuringly. "Honestly, you are doing me a favor, I have been itching to see inside your case for years now. Now, with mooncalf pups to be tended too, this is the perfect reason." Dumbledore smiled calmly at Newt. That was enough for him.
After a tour through the case, some last minute feedings and some quick instructions, (watch your step, and watch your pockets near the niffler) Newt felt confident that he was leaving the case in capable hands. He checked his pocket watch and saw he an hour and a half until his portkey activated and he did not want to be inside his case when that happened.
After a quick goodbye to Dougal and Dumbledore, who were becoming quick friends, and a small fight with Pickett, in which Newt lost and Pickett was allowed to come along. Newt was ready for his portkey
It was 6:02pm when Newt landed in New York. He checked his watch as he landed in the center of MACUSA headquarters. It was quiet, as most people had gone home already. Newt could her the lift system running in the massive building, and saw a one or two people walk down the long staircase to the streets of New York.
He felt Pickett quiver in his inside coat pocket. While he felt bad for the small creature, he did warn him that portkey travel was very unpleasant. He put his hand over his chest pocket and applied a small bit of pressure, hoping to calm down his minuscule friend. He looked around, waiting for his escort to appear. He had been told, in no uncertain terms, to wait until someone from MACUSA met him after his portkey. He had been waiting now for almost ten minutes.
While ten minutes did not seem like a long time to wait, he was limited to only twelve hours. His eyes roamed as he waited. Then he saw a black kneazle watching him from across the lobby. Despite the day he was having, he found himself smiling. 'Was this one Gatsby or Boots?' he wondered.
As if able to read his mind the furry creature started to slowly slink its way towards him. Newt was impressed since normally kneazles were more stand-offish then this one. Newt kneeled down and offered an outstretched hand, which was met by a small head butt from approaching kneazles. Newt took a few moments to pet the fine creature, when suddenly the kneazle paused and lifted its head. The small ears of the kneazles twitched. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, it took off running as a young man enter the lobby.
A young handsome man sauntered up to him. "Excuse me, are you Mr. Scamander?" he asked casually.
Newt looked the young man up and down, he was about 23. He wore a pair of baggy legged trousers with a gray, silver and blue argyle knit sweater pulled over his collared shirt. The knot of a dark blue tie sat at his neck. The young man was very fashionable, and he knew it too.
"Yes, Yes I am." He said offering him a hand to shake. Newt felt uncomfortable without the weight of his case in his free hand. "I'm sorry, but you are?"
"I'm William, William Bricks. But everyone calls me Billy. I have been assigned to take to you the Goldstein residence." He said shaking Newt's hand in return.
Newt's eyes widen a little. So this was Billy Bricks.
"Nice to meet you" Newt recovered quickly. "Shall we?"
Newt found Billy to be just as talkative as Tina had describe. Billy talked easily about the cases he and Tina had been working on, as he smoked his thin cigarettes and walked slower the Newt preferred. He pointed out places to Newt that they had gotten lunch, or where he wanted to take Tina out after work, if she ever let him. Billy said that she was always busy after work but he never knew what she was up too and Newt smiled despite himself.
He found his companion very trying. It wasn't just his chatting that was annoying Newt, it was the fact that this Billy Bricks, wasn't a kid at all. Even thought that is how Tina had describe him in her letters. Newt took comfort in the idea that maybe she actually saw him that way. Even if he was a considerably handsome adult. Newt looked down at his watch annoyed it had taken almost 40 minutes to get there, thanks to the slow moving pace of Billy.
"Here it is Mr. Scamander." Said Billy, stopping outside the brownstone. "Just know that they aren't allowed to have men inside. So you'll probably have to wait out here until…."
Newt cut him off. "They already knows I'm here."
He looked up at the second story windows, as the second from the left panel flew up, and Queenie's head popped out.
In the few moments the door before the opened and Newt was ushered in upstairs, he turned back to Billy.
"Also, I have stayed the night here before, so I am very well aware of house rules. Thank you for escorting me over." Newt smiled as smugly as he could before slipped inside the door and it shut firmly behind him.
Billy was left standing at the door sulking. He assumed he would be invited up too but Queenie didn't even look at him to invite him up. He stood in the street looking up at the window for a few minutes afterwards hoping to see something, but Queenie had pulled the curtains shut.
It was a quarter after seven by the time Newt finally stepped foot into the Goldstein apartment. Newt did a quick glance around the apartment and noticed a few changes since his last visit. While everything appeared the same on the surface, he could see bits of neglect around the apartment. A small stack of mail was forming on a small side table. A small layer of dust over the serving dishes. The pile of darning next to the fire, which was almost empty on his last visit, was noticeably fuller. There was, what appeared to be a small mountain of casseroles under stasis charms on the table. These small things told him that their household was under duress.
However, he did not care about how things looks. He looked at Queenie, seeking permission to enter their room, and she nodded. Newt slide off his overcoat, Picket moved up to his shoulder, and he the set the coat on a kitchen chair. He slowly approached the closed sliding wooden door.
He silently slid the panel of wood back far enough to allow his thin frame to enter. This room had not changed much either. The small bookshelf next to Queenie's bed still had a stack of books on it.
However, Tina's bookshelf, which used to house copies of 'Transfiguration Today' now held a bright yellow Fwoofer feather, a badger brooch, a small stack of newspaper clipping (he could see his own face among them), and a bundle of letters tied together with a blue ribbon.
His eyes drifted from the bookshelf to the owner of said shelf, as he moved farther into the room. There was a chair sitting by the bed already. He wordlessly sat down.
Tina was pale and thin. Pale for even her, he thought. Her face was turned away from him, but he could see beads of sweat on her brow. There was a blue undertone to her skin, and she almost looked like she might be freezing to death. Her dark hair was a mess. It laid splayed across her pillow. He figured it was from her trashing about in her bed from nightmares. Her hands were on the top of her quilt and he could see her hands clenching as she slept. One hand held onto a small stuffed niffler, he felt his chest tighten.
He slipped his left hand into her empty one, and she instinctively squeezed his hand tight. She slowly applied pressure to his palm, squeezing it softly. She was obviously asleep. As she slowly released the pressure on his hand she turned her face towards him. Newt felt a larch in his chest, almost as if he was being transported by portkey all over again. However, he stayed firmly planted in the Goldstein's bedroom.
With a tenderness often reserved for stroking baby birds, Newt carefully pushed her loose hair out of her face with his free hand. Even in complete pain, he thought she looked stunning.
She squeezed his hand tight once more, and he watched her wince, and then relax. She took a deep breath. He could not look away from her. His eyes traced every line of her face, the curve of her cheeks and the swoop of her eyelashes. Newt felt the knot of anxiety in his stomach again. What if she didn't feel the same as he did?
'But she said she needed you' he reminded himself.
'She is also very sick, now' he countered.
'She kept your letters, and your niffler' he shout back.
'She is a polite woman' his inner self fought back.
Queenie slipped into the room now. She stood silently next to Newt for a moment. He knew she could hear him battling within himself, but she said nothing.
"It's been a very slow process." Queenie whisper, as to not startle Newt. "She is getting better, but it is going much slower than anyone expected."
She placed her hand on his shoulder, "I'm glad you're here. I think you will make a different." She smiled down at him softly. This was the first time he had really looked at Queenie since he arrived. She looked thin and worn. Her eyes were swollen and slightly pink, and he cheeks looked almost hollow. He could tell that, despite the pile of food in the living room, she had not been eating well either.
"I know I look tired." She sighed softly. "I am. I can't seem to make any difference. I can barely get her to eat when she is awake. Sometimes she takes two or three bites and falls back asleep. The most she has been awake is 20 minutes before drifting back to sleep. When she is awake, she doesn't say much. She asks for you. She asks to hear your letters. I've given her paper, she tries to write, but now she can barely hold the pen. She is weak and I am worried. Our parents…you know…they got really weak right before they went."
Newt looked away from Queenie's face as her eye's started to well up with tears again.
His own eyes had started to swell, listening to Queenie talk.
"Have you tired hot chocolate?" Newt asked earnestly in a hushed voice, looking back up at Queenie.
"No…I haven't. Should I?" She asked perplexed.
"I have been thinking about your letter since I got it this morning, and you said that Tina has been acting live she is reliving all her worst nightmares. Well, in her letter she listed off several things that were upsetting her and they were all real-life event." Newt continued to whisper. "Well, I spent the afternoon looking up things that cause that kind of reaction. I didn't review any standard potions or poisons because the medical witches and wizards would have checked for that already. And I am starting to think that it might not have been a poison or potion at all, but some kind of dementor by-product. Do you know what a dementor is?"
Queenie nodded fearfully. Newt could tell by her face, she knew.
"Well, it's just a hunch, because I really do not know what by-product it is or could be. However, I think that it might be distilled dementor breath, which is very expensive. It is a pretty rare substance, as someone has to collect enough air from around a dementor to distill. As most people know prolonged exposure to dementors can cause madness, so it is not easy to come by. Additionally the best time to bottle the breath would be when a dementor is ready to give its kiss. So whoever is collecting it, cannot be the person receiving the kiss. However, I think that is what is making her relive the terrible moments in her life. Chocolate is supposed to make a difference in reviving someone from the effects that dementors have on people. I think we should try it." Before Newt had finished his small lecture, Queenie was already on her way into their kitchen.
Several minutes later she was back with cup of warm cocoa.
"We'll have to wait for her to come around to drink some." Queenie whispered to Newt. Silently he got out his wand and have his hands a quick and silent 'scourgify'. He dipped his index finger into the hot cocoa and gently put his finger between her slightly parted lips, coating her lower lip in the liquid. Tina responded by unconsciously licking her lips. Newt dipped his finger back into the mug and repeated the process.
Newt whispered "this is an old trick to use when any newborn that is having a hard time eating. Instinctively they will lick their lips and suckle."
Queenie watched him. She was amazed that it was working, but she was almost a bit embarrassed by the intimacy of the act. Queenie wasn't surprised that Newt didn't seem to understand how this behavior was very personal and private. Newt probably had no idea that this was something most people didn't do. How would he know?
"Even if we can just get a tiny bit into her system, it might start to make a difference." Newt continued to slowly feed Tina bit by bit. Queenie left the mug behind with Newt and went to heat up some dinner.
She watched him from the door for a few minutes. She had been working really hard to stay out of his mind since he got there. She knew it bothered him and she was really trying to respect that with both him and Tina.
However, when she heard his mind calling for her from outside, she almost fainted. She doubted that he would be there when she opened the window, yet there we was. He had come all the way for Tina. Queenie, for the first time in weeks, felt like things might finally be okay. She was overwhelmed, tired and scared. Billy came by, but she didn't really trust him. She couldn't get into his head, even though she tried. She didn't like him.
If anything, this wished she had Jacob with her. She knew she would feel stronger and braver if he were around. She sighed softly to herself as she turned on the kettle to make tea for Newt. Right now, Jacob needed to wait.
About a half hour later Queenie opened the sliding doors all the way and floated in two large plates, a small saucer and two cups of tea. She carried a small table in her hands which she carefully set down next to Newt. All the plates carefully drifted into their places, while the teas floated in the air waiting to be plucked by the hand who would drink it. The small saucer held several leafs and twigs for Pickett who scuttled down from his perch on Newt's shoulder to inspect the plate.
"How long will you be here?" Queenie asked softly as she sat down on her bed. She looked around, "Where is your case?"
"I was only able to get a 12 hour portkey, so at 6 am your time, I'll be swept back into London." He carefully removed his hand from Tina's as he picked up his fork to eat. He was famished. He had forgotten all about eating once he had received the letter. "As for the case," he continued, "I wasn't allowed to bring it. I left it with an old school professor."
"You must be exhausted." Queenie looked at the clock, it was already approaching 8pm. "Do you want to take a nap or anything? What time is it in London?"
"No, thank you. I don't want to sleep during any of my time here." He spoke between bites. "It's only about 2 in the morning there. I can't tell you what this portkey cost me, so I do not want to waste my time. I want to be as useful as possible."
He looked at Queenie meaningfully and added "I also think that it is probably best that you sleep tonight. While taking care of Tina is very important, you can't forget to take care of yourself. She would be worried if she saw you, as tired as you are."
Queenie looked down thoughtfully.
He looked back at the sleeping Tina. "You know this isn't how I pictured our reunion." He said aloud to Queenie.
"Well, this is not what Teenie expected either." She smiled softly. "She was so excited when she read about your publication date. She has a calendar on her bookshelf counting down to your visit. I haven't seen her so excited in ages." Queenie looked at her sleeping sister.
"I know you understand now, Newt. That she wasn't trying to hurt you by not writing back soon. She agonized about a valentine's gift for you. She had finally decided on what to get you, and was planning on getting it after work the day she was attacked. You see, no one has ever asked Teenie to be their Valentine before. I'm glad you're here, because maybe, if she isn't worrying that you are mad at her, some of her nightmares will stop."
Newt sighed, setting down his now empty plate and fork. He ran his hand over his face, as he gazed at Tina.
"It was petty of me. However, I was upset. I was embarrassed and jealous. Sometimes I feel like I don't even know myself anymore." Newt confession was soft and quiet. Queenie could tell that he was trying to say it so the sleeping Tina wouldn't hear. She took a sip of her own tea.
"Well, love can do that you." She said warmly.
Newt turned his head quickly to look at Queenie, his face flushing hard. "I thought I asked you to stay out of my head." He said almost sadly, as if she had broken his trust.
"I'm not in your head, honey. I just know you love her. I've read your letters. I've seen the gifts. I know."
"Does Tina know?" he asked delicately.
"Hum, no. I don't think she does." Queenie stated softly as she shook her head. "I think she is too afraid to trust that it might be true."
"I wouldn't hurt her." Newt stated, with a bit of sadness in his voice.
"I know, love is just a really scary thing, for everybody involved. We make ourselves vulnerable to someone we barely know. They come into our lives unexpectedly. We have to let our guard down, let others get close, trust that they won't hurt us, or if they do hurt us, they never intended too. It's complicated."
Silence followed this statement. Newt could plainly read on Queenie's face that she was thinking about Jacob. Her eyes watered a bit, but she turned to Newt smiling.
"However, I think, if my opinion matters at all, that you are doing a great job." With that Queenie floated the empty plates out of the room. She left the small table and a few minutes later a second full plate of food came floating back into the room for Newt. He was very grateful.
As it grew later, Newt continued to feed Tina bit of hot cocoa. It was a slow process, but he could see that while she consumed the cocoa, she relaxed. The sweating had almost completely subsided. When he wasn't trying to feed her, he read aloud to her from the copy of his manuscript he had brought with him. His left hand in Tina's free hand, and his right hand to turn the page. The sections he read out loud were the ones he wrote with Tina in mind. When he was having writer's block and his editors wanted him to change the language of his book, Tina had suggested to him that he should write like he was explaining to her. So he did, and he wanted her to hear those sections especially.
When the clock struck midnight in the Goldstein house, Newt stood to stretch his legs and started to make his towards the hall to use the restroom. When he slid out of the bedroom he saw Queenie was fast asleep on the couch curled up in a blanket. She looked like this was the first sleep she had gotten in a while.
When he returned from the restroom down the hall, he made himself another cup of tea. He magically dimmed the lights in the living room, and headed back into the bedroom with the intention of staying up all night. As he sipped his tea, he sorted through the newspaper clipping Tina had set aside on the bookshelf. Most were from the New York Ghost, however occasionally a Daily Prophet article was mixed in. Along with the book flyer and clipping he had sent her, she had clipped several articles that had been published about their adventure back in November. Additionally, there were several American ads for his upcoming book in there too.
He smiled to himself, and gently put everything back on the shelf. There was a warmth in his chest that wasn't there before. He could it slowly spreading through his body. He wondered if he was feeling all warm and tingly from the tea, or the idea that Tina had taken the time to lovingly cut out all the articles she found related to him. The warm feeling relaxed him and soon, despite his struggles to stay awake, he too was asleep.
Tina took a deep breath. She was so tired, her eyes lids where too heavy to open but she was awake. Or at least she thought she was awake. This could be another dream, she considered. If this was a dream, it was already better than most she had been having lately.
However, her last dream was charming. She dreamt of dancing mooncalfs, and kneazles knitting wooly jackets. There was also a niffler, wearing Newt's scarf holding a giant ruby in the shape of a heart. This strange magical creatures dream was a great improvement over watching her parents die over and over again. Or watching Credence suffer at the hand of his adopted mother. Or watching Newt get tortured by Grindelwald.
She squeezed the hand that was holding her own and let it go. Tina could feel the weight of someone's head resting on the bed near her waist. Queenie must have fallen asleep on her bed, she reasoned. She lifted her hand and started to stroke her sister's hair. Yet, it felt different. The hair was shorter. It was drier and coarse. There were no curls, just waves. It felt good in her fingers.
She felt the head under her hand start. 'They must have woken up.' She struggled with opening her eyes again, but gave in. She was too weak. Tina was tired of being so weak. She tried again, but the more she struggled to open her eyes the more tired she became.
She felt a straw to her lips.
"Here take a drink." A voice said softly to her. It wasn't Queenie. It was husky, it was male, and British. She took a long sip, it was water. Her parched throat, was bathed in relief. She took a second long draw from the straw before she felt it disappear from her lips. It was replaced and then she heard that voice again.
"Take another sip." Said the soothing voice. She trusted that voice, it was so vaguely familiar. So she drank again, and this time it was warm cocoa. Her toes tingled. She wiggled them happily. She tried to open her eyes again but failed.
"Are you feeling better?" The lovely voice asked her.
She nodded, smiling an exhausted and sleepy smile.
"You sound like Newt." Tina said, exhaustion evident in her voice.
There was a small chuckle from the lovely Newt-like voice.
"Well, I should, since I am him."
"That would make sense." She agreed sleepily. "But he isn't here." Her chin started to droop as she talked.
"I am right now." She felt a larger hand slip into her own.
"This is a lovely dream." Tina whispered. "Newt'sss mad at me." She was starting to slur her words together, as she drifted back to sleep.
"No, I can promise you. I am not made at you. I've been worried." The lovely voice made Tina feel warm.
"Billy…" She whispered giving into sleep. Newt's chest tightened, and a beast called jealously roared in his ears. "…said you'd never come." Tina managed to finish saying before drifting off to sleep.
"Tina, I will always come back to you." The lovely voice echoed in Tina's ear as she nodded off.
Newt sat looking at Tina longingly. She had been awake and he had no idea for how long. How long had she laid awake before she stroked his hair, and woke him? He had not meant to drop off, and it was dangerous to fall asleep holding her hand with an active portkey on his body. He shuddered to think what would have happened if she hadn't have woken him up, and he had accidently taken her across the ocean with a portkey distinctly meant for one person.
However, she had woken up. She spoke with him. She seemed calmed. The sweating had stopped hours ago. Tina's chest now peaceful rose and fell, she looked so happy. Relief washed over him. She wanted to see him, and he smiled to himself.
He looked at the clock in the Goldstein's bedroom and saw that it was 3:47 in the morning. Pickett had made himself comfortable on a corner of Tina's pillow where he slept soundly.
Newt stood up, stretching as went. His back ached from being bent over Tina bed. He had just over two hours left before his portkey took him back to England and he wanted to help Tina and Queenie as much as he could before he left. He slid the door to the living room open again to check if Queenie was still asleep, which she was.
The first thing he did was silent cast a spell over all the casseroles in the living room, checking to see if any of them had been tampered with. While Newt knew the food would not spoil under a stasis charm, he was worried if one might have been poisoned before coming into the house. Billy carried them in, but they were given to him by others. Someone might have poisoned a dish, knowing that the knife wound didn't kill Tina. His charms came back negative, and he felt a bit sheepish for being so paranoid. However, he did feel justified in the fact that Tina had been attacked, therefore everyone should be extra cautious.
Newt set to a small list of things he wanted to accomplish. Many of which he could complete sitting next to Tina.
Before he knew it was ten minutes to six. His portkey would be activating soon and he wanted to be ready.
"Pickett, come on." He whispered to the bowtrukle who had been making himself at home in the Goldstein residence. He had moved from Tina's pillow to the table next to the bed. The small saucer which once had leaves on it was now empty.
Newt extended his hand for his small friend to hop onto, but the bowtruckle just crossed his arms and refused to mount Newt's hand.
"Come on Pickett." Hissed Newt. "This is not the time to get indigent with me. We have to leave."
Pickett shook his head and squeaked up to Newt.
Newt sat back down in the chair next to Tina's bed and lowered himself to eye level with Pickett.
"Are you sure? If that is your choice then I'll respect that."
The squeaks continued.
"Yes, it would make me feel better knowing you were here watching her. But won't you be lonely?"
Pickett had made is point clear.
"Okay, Pickett. If you want to stay you can, but please be safe. Thank care of yourself and of the girls." Newt felt his eye's tearing up, he stood quickly and looked at the clock. Two minutes till six.
He looked down at Tina, and made a quick decision. He stooped down and kissed her on her forehead. Her fever had broken and he knew she was going to be okay. He stared at her peaceful face and his chest ached. It hurt in a way he hadn't felt in a very long time. This is what it felt like saying goodbye to Hogwarts after his expulsion. It was a feeling of longing and a desire to stay, when Newt knew perfectly well he couldn't.
He pulled the bent bottle cap out of his pocket as it started to get warm. He waved to Pickett, and with that, he was gone.
It was 7:30 when Queenie woke up. It was her first good, long night's sleep in two weeks. Her intention was to be awake before Newt left and cook him breakfast but fate had other plans. As she walked towards the stove to make some coffee she noticed a bag sitting on the table with a note addressed to her. She started the kettle, letting it heat the No-Maj way, and read her letter.
Miss. Queenie Goldstein,
Thank you for allowing me to interrupt your life for an evening. Tina only woke up once during the night, but I can safely say I think her fever has broken. She slept soundly the rest of the night.
In the bag on the table, you will find some extra money. Please do not see this as charity, but as a finder's fee. You are spending your time searching for our dear Jacob, so please allow me to assist in the cost of living while you search.
I have no doubt that when I arrive this summer, all four of us will be together again. I think that his affection for your will manifest again, even if he can't remember you.
Thank you for the continued care you give to your sister. Your assessment about my feelings for your sister, are not wrong. I only ask for the chance to tell her myself, so please keep this between us for the time being.
Also, please continue to be cautious. We don't know to what lengths someone might go to get revenge on Tina. They might attack her again, or they might attack you.
Your friend,
Newt
Queenie set down the note, and opened the bag. At least twenty large gold coins fell out of the bag. She picked them up, she wasn't familiar with British currency but the word Galleon was pressed across it. It wouldn't be until she took it to the bank to be exchanged the next day that she realized that Newt had given her enough to pay the whole month's rent at their brownstone.
In the room next door, a similar-looking letter was sitting on the table addressed to Tina.
It would be a day before Tina was awake enough to open it and reads it contents.
It read;
Dearest Tina,
This was not the reunion I had in mind. When I received Queenie's letter, I did what I could to rush here next to you. I needed to see with my own eyes that you were going to be okay. My portkey was only for 12 hours, or I would have stayed to see you wake up properly. However the few words you did say to me gave me such comfort, that I know I am leaving you in good care.
Please forgive the new interloper in your life. Pickett insisted on staying with you, to protect you. I hope you do not mind the addition to your household. If you would like, I can send you some instructions on caring for Bowtrukles. He made up his mind to stay with you last minute or I would have prepared something for you beforehand.
Now that I know you are mending, and you have watchful, if not needy, eyes on you, I know I can leave your side. It's not easy to leave, but I must.
However, I will wait for your letter. I am in no rush to hear from you, I only want to know that you are better. It was pure punishment, waiting to hear from you. I was so worried you were mad at me, or I had done something to displease you. I hold you in such high esteem that if I had done something to upset you, I would never be able to forgive myself.
So, please, dearest Tina, rest up. Be cautious, but of course, please continue being the amazing auror and woman you are.
Deepest affections,
Newt