Rubbing the back of his neck, Newt waited for Professor Dumbledore to return. Surveying the room, he couldn't help but notice the little details that had always fascinated him.
He remembered coming into the office to receive an award from Master Dippot- the shy presentation he'd given about Fwooper feathers and their uses that impressed even Ministry of Magic officials.
It had been much the same back then, but some changes were made when Dumbledore took over. Newt had always known he'd make a wonderful headmaster; others clearly thought likewise.
The gargoyle eventually turned, and Dumbledore walked in but seemed to stop short as he looked around.
"Where's Hope?" He asked with a slight frown, glancing in the corner, likely to see if she'd busied herself looking through his knick-knacks.
Newt cringed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "She, well, she left."
Disappointment etched Dumbledore's face, but only for a moment. Still, Newt saw it, and he felt he knew why.
He wasn't always efficient at reading people's emotions, but he knew of the way that he looked at Hope. It was the same way Newt did.
"I see," Dumbledore forced a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and nodded, "I imagine she needs some time to herself."
Offering a nod, he swallowed the lump in his throat, but it betrayed him as he spoke. "I would have left," his voice gave out a little, "I just didn't want you to come back without knowing she's understandably upset."
"Of course," he nodded, "it's very considerate. Thank you, Newt."
Newt's lips parted as he was near to asking an important question. One that had haunted him since Hope had discovered her room of moonlight.
"Yes?" Dumbledore asked, his blue gaze piercing through him. Much like it had when he was a student here, but it felt different somehow.
He wasn't a student, and Dumbledore wasn't his Professor.
Now, they both seemed to have an equal interest in the same person, and it sent a thrill of uncertainty through his.
"Nothing," Newt smiled sheepishly and ran his fingers through his messy flop of hair, "I'm sure she'll come around." He nodded, inching around him toward the gargoyle that would free him from the awkward conversation he'd almost led into.
Dumbledore, who didn't seem bothered, gave a nod and chuckled.
Newt felt his eyes on his back as he finally descended the stairs, where his cheeks flushed and his heart pounded in his ears.
Creatures he understood- people, not so much.