#Leta loved them equally as well

[freedomforthewin]

Someone else on Tumblr had said that this scene was equally beautiful and heartbreaking. That really is the perfect way to describe it. There is a lot of pain here but also a lot of love.

Eddie and Callum did an amazing job with this scene.

[silvertonedwords]

Together, Chapter 2

See on a03

Dear Tina,

I can hardly believe you left only two days ago. I would’ve written sooner, but I was worried the letter might miss you in your travels. Pickett and the niffler send their love. They both looked for you this morning, and I’m not convinced they believed me when I told them I haven’t hidden you away somewhere.

I’ve made arrangements for the Zouwu to be resettled in China, where she belongs, once her wounds heal. I know a wizard there who will look after her and ensure that she adjusts.

Theseus stopped by earlier today. He looks haunted, and hardly talks. I can tell he hasn’t been sleeping. I do not know what I can offer him, but it seems he wants to visit. This is the most we’ve spoken in years. Mother used to say we’d get along better when we were older, which I always thought was rubbish, but perhaps she was right. I wish it hadn’t been like this, though.

I’ve never told you, but for a couple of years during school, Theseus used to try to bring me along to parties with his friends. It never went very well, to say the least.

Did you and Queenie have similar friends in school? I believe the age differences between us are just about the same.

I keep thinking about everything Leta said in that vault. We hadn’t seen each other in years, but I used to think I knew her well. It seems I did not. How is it possible to look at someone so often and miss how they are hurting? 

You see people well, I think. You noticed Credence, after all.

You seemed quiet the morning you left. I know you will miss Queenie even more in New York.

Write when you’re home safe. And look after yourself.

Newt

-&-

Tina trips into her room, tugging off her stockings as she goes. Her cheeks ache from smiling and she is trembling again and Mercy Lewis we kissed.

She glances at Queenie’s bed and laughs to think what her sister will have to say the next time they see each other.

(“Go! Talk to him! Dance with him! I don’t even need to be me to hear those thoughts,” she’d said at the end of the ceremony.)

She’s pretty sure that the next time she and Queenie are in a room together, her mind won’t shut up no matter what she does.

We kissed, and his lips are so soft, and his hands feel amazing, and he held on to me and leaned against me and his eyes are beautiful and so is his voice, and when he held me up, I think I finally, just for a moment, let go…

This is it now, for good, right?—and I didn’t startle him, or…

She pulls a pair of trousers, a blouse, and socks from her wardrobe without seeing them, steps out of her gown, and tugs the fresh clothes on. Somehow, being in her usual dress is equal parts comforting and terrifying. She is everyday Tina again, but dressed up wedding night Tina was brave and felt a little invincible and what if…

And my heart can take this and we can do this and…

She looks in the mirror, touches her lips where her lipstick has worn off into their kiss, takes in her rumpled curls and almost feels Newt’s hand winding into her hair and pulling her closer and it suits you; his hand on her waist. The letters she’s treasured for months.

He has to go back home and what if I break my own heart, or even worse, break his…

He isn’t upset that I haven’t asked him to visit earlier, is he? And he knows how I feel, because I never want him to look at me the way I know he did in Paris, confused and hurting, like perhaps I’d always been a stranger…

As she’d known they would be the moment she and Newt were finally this, for absolute certain, the images of all the things that she wants for them are suddenly, terrifyingly vivid. 

A few minutes spent with Newt and the creatures before work. A kiss goodbye. 

Someone to sit with and talk to after a bad day, or a good one. Someone with bright and creative and sometimes hilariously impractical ideas when she’s stuck on a case. 

Dinners with Jacob and Queenie. Walks in New York and their hands tucked together under her coat when it isn’t crowded. 

Their laughter as he wrangles a new creature, and the tea she’ll bring down when it keeps him up late. His slightly begrudging, grateful smile when she forces him to sit so that she can heal his cut or burn. His book, with its beautiful words and drawings, and endless hours in which to ask questions about them. 

The color of his eyes in moonlight and his steady, delicate, fumbling hands.

(Such images, she is not quite ready to admit, have in fact long been vivid, each letter filling out their details. Save a kiss and sharing the exact words I love you, the two of them have been this for months; have been stepping into this joint way of being since Paris, and since long before.)

As she walks through her room to the sitting room and the open case, she pictures the image they made, leaning against each other at the door to her apartment, and all at once she is seeing the relationship she’d known as a little girl, the one Queenie barely remembers except from her sister’s thoughts. 

Momma stopping Poppa on his way out the door and fixing his tie. Poppa kissing Momma’s cheek. Their laughter from the kitchen after they’d tucked their daughters into bed. How Poppa smiled at Momma when she read books aloud. The way they always looked at each other; that mix of fondness and pride. 

Her glimpse of their pale hands, joined in the scant space between their sickbeds, before her aunt pushed Tina from the room. 

Do we—do we look like them? Do we look at each other how Poppa and Momma did?

She thinks of Newt’s arms holding her up in the execution chamber, his thumb on her hair at the docks, his hand pulling her along in Paris, and grasping hers in farewell in London, and settling on her waist earlier tonight as they danced.  

And she aches for Newt’s hand, and the way her heart seems to beat faster and calm all at once under his gaze.  

You can have it.

She closes her eyes for a moment, jumbled, wonderful emotions tangling in her chest, then steps onto the ladder. 

-&-

Newt keeps starting one of a short list of chores for the few creatures traveling with him, only to remember that he’s left the potion or food he needs behind. “Sorry, sorry,” he repeats as he nearly trips over the niffler for a third time and bumps into a table. The creature sqwaks indignantly and shuffles a few feet away. 

Newt’s grinning as he starts to tear herbs into a bowl, less attentive than usual to the amounts he needs. His thoughts keep returning to the fierce look in Tina’s eyes just before her mouth covered his.

Merlin, they kissed. And her hands tangled in his hair and he held her against him and it all felt amazing. 

Pickett chirps as Newt walks by. “I know, Pick.” Newt says absently. “But you wouldn’t have liked it. There were loads of people.”

Pickett chatters indignantly. 

“Tina’s going to come say hello, hm? You like Tina.”

Tina, and the determined glint in her eyes as they left the bakery and the excited, slightly nervous way her teeth dug into her lip when their eyes caught during the ceremony. Her breathtaking smile and the weight of her hand on his shoulder as they danced, and her beautiful laugh before they went inside. The way she silently held her hand back for his and pulled him along the streets of New York. 

Sneaking up the stairs in their fancy clothes with the memory of the day they met echoing in every step. 

She knows, doesn’t she? How much he—he’s always been rubbish with words, with communicating with people in general, but he thinks, hopes he’s managed to tell her. How remarkable she is. How deeply he’s fallen in love. 

She must—surely she must know. 

He hasn’t understood, exactly, why they haven’t yet—but he’s understood. She has had such a difficult year. A difficult life. He knows there is no protecting people from pain, but he has often wanted to. It was so hard to watch her leave London after Paris, knowing that she was going home alone, and that everything there, big and small, would remind her of her sister, and break her heart anew. Knowing that he wouldn’t be there to hold her hand. 

Their letters have been such a comfort. More than that. They have been—the things they’ve shared—they have fallen even more in love. They have come to know each other to a depth he dared not even imagine as he boarded his ship after that first goodbye.

He hopes that they can now be there for each other in all the ways they’ve wanted. Acknowledge everything out in the open. 

That’s what she wants right? She’s ready? She seemed ready, but then what exactly changed tonight, since she walked out of the mist and he fell into her eyes and was once again, always, lost. 

“Newt?”

He looks up from his herbs as she comes through the storeroom door.  

For half a second, as he takes in her tentative smile and bright eyes, her slightly messy curls and familiar dark trousers and white blouse, and the chain of her locket hanging from her neck, he worries she’ll want to slow down. That he’s misunderstood. Perhaps she wasn’t ready to—or all of the things he wants were not clear to her, and she’s confused, or…

But when she smiles at him like that, it’s very hard to worry about anything. 

“Hi,” he says softly. 

“Hi,” she returns. She is distractingly beautiful in the soft, warm light. Theseus said once that she seemed a bit reserved, and he knows that she is not bubbly and open like the Queenie he met here two years ago. But he does not understand how anyone can—as he has heard from a few mutual acquaintances—call her impassive. He has always, from within hours of their first meeting, been able to see into the heart of her. They must not really be looking. And perhaps she does not want them to, which is a shame for someone with such a beautiful heart. 

He crosses over to her, gathering up her hands with his. She spreads her fingers to either side of his wrists. Her hands are soft in comparison to his own, and strong. 

When he looks up into her eyes, they are soft and vulnerable. “Your hair’s still different.” He pulls one of his hands from hers to touch a curl just beside her eyes. 

“Yes, I—Queenie did the spell earlier. I haven’t taken it out.”

He bends forward just slightly and lifts his head to kiss her brow. She settles her free hand along his jaw and guides his mouth to hers for a gentle kiss, more a lingering touch than anything deeper. The contact floods his body with warmth. He brings her hand to his lips and presses a lingering kiss there. “I like that we do this now,” he says as he lowers their joined hands.

She laughs lightly, her fingers shifting against his cheek. “So do I.” She is smiling, happy; but also wide-eyed, serious, studying him. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I—“ she cuts herself off. Her eyes slip shut, and open again. He squeezes her hand, and she squeezes back. When she speaks, her voice trembles. “Would…would you hold me please?”

The tension melts from his shoulders. “Of course.” He opens his arms for her, sighing as she wraps her arms loosely around his shoulders and tucks her face into his neck. He settles his hands on her back, tucking his chin over her shoulder. “I’ve got you.”  He rocks them gently, tilting his head to hers. Her soft hair tickles as it brushes his cheek. It is a lot to be surrounded by Tina like this. Her scent and the texture of her hair and her breath falling across his skin. But it also feels…right. 

The letters have been wonderful, but there is something wondrous and new in feeling her breaths rise and fall beneath his hand. 

She has relaxed into him so thoroughly that without him standing here, he thinks that she might fall. He’s never going to let that happen. He drops a kiss into her hair. “I’ve got you.” She takes a shuddering breath, and he lifts one hand to thread into her hair, stroking through it slowly to settle them both. 

She knows she only needs to ask, doesn’t she?

He doesn’t know what about this moment has brought this on. She seemed happy, before, almost…free. And she doesn’t seem unhappy now. Just—overwhelmed. 

How often, he wonders as her fingers twist into his shirt above his shoulder blades, does Tina allow herself this? Being brave, but remembering she does not always have to look it? 

He rubs her back in slow, small strokes, allowing her weight to sink into him as much as she wants. It is a lot, and it is also welcome. The task of holding Tina Goldstein up when she is carrying too much on her shoulders. He feels a possessive sort of pride. His Tina, and the immense privilege of her trust, that this remarkable woman lets him see her like this.

After several minutes, she lifts her head with a rasping, relieved sort of laugh. 

He moves one hand around to her waist, rubbing his thumb over her soft cotton blouse and feeling her warm skin and the shape of her ribs beneath. 

She covers his hand on her waist, slotting her fingers between his. He feels her search his face. A touch of gazes, now, too. He’s been ready for all of it for a long time. 

Gently, she brings her hands to cup his face. Her thumbs caress softly along his cheekbones, and his eyelids flutter but do not close. He does not want to miss a moment of this.

A few tears slip down her cheeks. He touches them with a gentle thumb. “Love, what is it?”

She shivers, and then carefully, deliberately, drags his mouth onto hers. This kiss is aching, slow, and he has time to catalogue how soft and warm her lips are, and the way her fingers press into his cheeks and jaw, and the fluttering heat in his chest. He thinks they could kiss a thousand times more, and still it would take his breath away, and simultaneously feel like he can finally breathe.

When their lips part, they rest their foreheads together for a few breaths.

He waits as she finds the words to explain. 

“Two months ago, I was living here, alone. And now I have Queenie back, and I have…”

“Me.”

She nods against him, her fingers shifting, playing lightly over his skin. Then she lifts her head. “Not that I didn’t before,” she rushes to add. “But this is…”

“Different,” he agrees. He kisses her temple, and she leans into the touch. He sighs happily. 

“It’s a lot.” She says. 

“Us?”

She nods, and the tears return. 

“Oh, Love,” he whispers, bringing their bundled hands to his chest. Her fingers curl into him. “Don’t be afraid.”

“Not of you. Never of you. I…”

“It’s been a difficult year,” he offers, when she does not continue. He can understand, even if he doesn’t understand. “Queenie. Grindelwald. That blasted article in Spellbound. ”

She laughs, and he grins, grateful that they can joke about it now. 

“For you as well.” She settles a second hand on his chest. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

Her rubs the back of her hand. “Whatever for?”

She dashes her tears away. “I should’ve asked you to visit sooner.”

He aches to think that this has worried her. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”

“You’ve been waiting,” she argues. “And that day in July, when you were in New York and I worked most of the day and hardly said a word…”

“I’ve treasured that visit. And every word you’ve written to me.”

She touches his lips, featherlight. “But you’ve been waiting for me to be ready. Not just to kiss me. To be…to…start something.”

He looks into her eyes, feeling their familiar, welcome pull deep in his chest. “I. Yes. Happily. No, I mean, not that I’ve not wanted. I’ve wanted to. But. It hasn’t been a burden.”

She picks up one of his hands and kisses his palm, the inside of his wrist, and it is his turn to gasp and shudder. “It’s been a lonely year. Even though we were writing. And I’ve so wanted us to be—I never want you to think I didn’t want…” she gestures to their closeness, their tangled hands, “this. But I knew that once we…I knew it would change things for me. To feel what we—to feel that much.”

He’s perhaps beginning to understand. His life has a line through it that was drawn during a week-long visit to New York. Before Tina. After Tina. 

And this evening for her is another one. A before and after of their lives truly together, although their letters have become everything but. 

She’s not afraid of him, or even uncertain. She’s been afraid of the depth of her own heart. Of his. He’s never been one to consider that before diving in, but he can understand why she is. He has so many letters full of stories about her parents and about Queenie. Most people who have put their hearts on the line and lost are not eager to make themselves so vulnerable again. Perhaps…perhaps he was even doing that himself, once, before Tina and Jacob and Queenie crashed into his life. 

“You’re ready for that tonight,” he says, just to be sure.

“Yes.” She gasps over the word, almost tearful, but joyful, too. 

“You’re certain.”

“Yes.” She trails her fingers up his neck. “Newt,” she half-whispers, her voice when it resonates low and warm. He turns to kiss her fingers. “I’m in love with you. I want—I want everything.” 

A smile washes over his face, and then hers, and his heart pounds joyfully. “So do I.”

She laughs tearfully, and a second later, crashes her mouth into his.

They stumble, laughing, Tina catching her hands in his shirt as he wraps an arm around her waist and steadies them against a table. She tilts her head to deepen the kiss just as he steps them back so that he can perch on the edge of the tall table. It is very nice to kiss Tina without having to worry as much about standing up. 

She hums happily and tilts his head back with a firm hand, apparently enjoying the few inches’ height advantage that this position gives her. He tightens his arms around her waist and opens his mouth to her searching lips and cannot fault her one bit. Being surrounded by Tina’s adorably cold hands and intoxicating smell; surrendering to her feverish mouth…he could happily lose himself here for hours.

He groans and she laughs, and so he tugs her closer, until their chests press together everywhere, and their heaving breaths become difficult to tell apart.

She begins to kiss her way down his jaw, and around behind his ear. A shiver runs down his spine, and he can feel her storing the information away, because she kisses the spot again, then a little to the side, lower, until she finds the exact place where a kiss and the lightest brush of her tongue makes him jolt, and his fingers tighten reflexively on her waist.

He feels her smile against his skin. Always so proud to become an expert in things.

So, he threads one hand into her hair and guides her back a few inches, ready to explore for himself. She grasps his collar and surrenders with a sigh. Behind her ear, he finds, she is not so sensitive as him, but a little (very, very pleasant) work reveals that when he just barely grazes his lips over her pulse point, her fingers tighten in his shirt, and a strangled, desperate whimper flies from her lips. It is a new mission in life to find every possible way to provoke that sound. 

“Tina,” he says, skimming his lips along her jaw.

“Hm?” She sounds distracted, and that makes him smile.

He lifts his head so that she can see his eyes. “I love you.”

Her face melts into an unguarded smile. “I know.”

Somewhere in his chest, a knot unravels. 

She must see something in his eyes, the weight she has just lifted, because she guides his face into her collar. She strokes his hair and he breathes and feels tears slipping down his cheeks, and breathes easier to know that she will not misunderstand them. She smells like lavender soap, and a little bit like sweat from dancing, and like Tina. 

“You’re better at all of this than you think you are,” she says gently, scraping her fingers through his tangled hair.

“Am I?” he answers into her skin.

“Mhm.”

He slides his hands up her arms, around her shoulders. 

“Pretty sure it’s my opinion that counts. Well, in this situation, anyway. I don’t think you’ll be romancing anyone else. Do you?”

To hear her voice, even by implication, the idea that this is forever, lifelong, makes his heart soar. He knows that they both know, but it is exquisite to hear. “Definitely not,” he agrees. 

She drags her hand through his hair from the base of his skull, up and up, and he almost wants to cry at how nice it feels.“You’re better at other things, too, though, you know? You’re a good friend. And you have the most beautiful heart.”

“You do,” he argues, and she laughs and kisses the side of his head. 

He wants to see her face again.

She leaves her hands in his hair as he pulls back, resettling her locket. The chain slips through his fingers, and so he grasps the locket itself to set things right.

She cups her hands around his. “Have you seen them? My parents?”

He looks up into her eyes. She’s mentioned in her letters that Queenie found the locket amongst their mother’s things and fixed it for her, and that she keeps portraits of her family inside it. But he’s never seen them.“Only in that potion.”

She closes his fingers around the locked, and then moves her hands away. “Open it.”

He rests one hand on her hip and presses his thumb to the clasp. The small portraits of a witch and wizard look up at him. Mr. and Mrs. Goldstein.

“You look like them.”

He can hear her smile in her voice. “They had the portraits taken for each other when they got engaged.”

He thinks of the photos she sent after he learned that she’d had them taken for work. And the author’s portrait he slipped into his next letter. “I’ve loved hearing about them.” He feels almost as though he knows them, now. Mr. Goldstein, who baked, and loved a good joke, and delighted in bringing home little surprises for his daughters, and was the one who insisted on calling her Porpentina. Mrs. Goldstein, who read books aloud to the family in the evening, and made sure her daughters knew they could grow up to be whatever they wanted.

“They were so happy, Newt. They never had much, and Momma’s family practically disowned her for marrying him, but they were happy. And so in love.”

Newt presses the locket shut and searches out her hand. “They’ve sounded wonderful. Thank you for sharing them with me.”

She nods. Her hands are still burried in his hair, threading up through the back, and down from his temple. Curling pieces around her fingers. He wonders distantly if perhaps she might keep doing that forever. “Momma used to say she worried I’d be alone. That I’d be too afraid to let myself fall in love.”

And that was before she lost them, too. Before Queenie. Before the stupid article that he knows, however mistaken, broke her heart. He sees the vulnerability in her eyes, and hopes that his touch is grounding.

“I wish they coulda seen Queenie today. But…I wish they coulda seen me, too. I think they’d be proud.” 

“They would. They would’ve been, before, too. You’re the kind of daughter parents would always be proud of.” He thinks about her laugh in the street, and the way she looked at him as Lally pulled her away, and the insistent tug of her hand as she walked them back to this apartment, and he’s proud of her, too. 

They meet halfway, finding the right angle for a kiss a little more easily. She moves her hands down his neck, over his collar, and he tangles his in her hair, but they are not frantic, desperate. Just…learning each other, in ways they hadn’t before. Merlin, it is very, very nice. They relax into each other, and his toes curl, and he thinks that he did not expect this exquisite calm to come over him while kissing her. She kisses the tip of his nose, his brow, a gossamer touch. He laughs.

Her face wrinkles in amusement. “What?”

“Happy,” he says simply, brushing her nose with his thumb, because she’s adorable, and because he can.

“Me, too.” 

They smile at each other, and possibly they look like lovesick idiots, and definitely he does not care.

“Queenie’ll laugh. She hasn’t stopped botherin’ me about you since she came back. Especially tonight. She said we were staring.”

“So did Theseus.”

“Did he?”

She settles her arms on his shoulders, and he cups her forearms with his hands. “Perhaps we were.”

“We were,” she admits with a smile and a tilt of her head.

“It’s just. I know we’ve had letters but…it’s different. Seeing your face. Hearing your voice. Knowing you’re in the room, breathing right next to me.” 

“Yeah. It is.”

“When we danced? I was thinking about when I caught you in that execution chamber.”

She smiles softly. “I remember.”

“We were about as close tonight as we were then. But also…”

“A thousand times closer.”

He sighs happily to be understood. “Yes.”

“You coulda kept your hand on my waist, you know. Outside, I mean. I didn’t mind.”

He tucks her hair behind her ear. “Good to know.”

He watches as he settles his hand on her waist in the same spot. “You wore this blouse in Paris.”

She looks down. “I guess I did.” 

Her voice trembles, and he doesn’t always know what to make of that. “What?”

She shakes her head. “I can’t believe you noticed.”

“Of course I noticed. Would’ve noticed before, too, if we hadn’t been—” 

She kisses him.

They are both thoroughly distracted, until a chittering sound makes them both look down. The niffler blinks up at them, tugging on Tina’s trousers.

“Oh, hello,” she says fondly.

“Pest,” Newt says affectionately. “He probably wants to show off the little ones.”

“Oh, do you?” Tina asks the creature, and the niffler puffs up his chest, pleased with her attention.

Tina backs away from Newt, pulling his hand until he comes with, and they follow the niffler over to the nest, where the not-quite-baby-anymore nifflers are sleeping. It’s really not a fair representation of how much work they are, Newt reflects. 

“They’re lovely,” she tells the proud niffler.

“They’re trouble,” Newt warns affectionately.

“I’d imagine.”

A couple of them wake, blinking up at the pair sleepily, and Newt chuckles to watch Tina pick up a couple of seeds from a nearby bowl and transfigure them into little pieces of metal. She kneels closer and the nifflers grab at them eagerly.

“Something for you, too,” she tells the big niffler, offering him one. Her voice softens. “I probably wouldn’t’a met Newt without you.”

The niffler chatters happily at Tina. 

“I think maybe I do have some competition,” Newt teases.

“You think?” She smiles up at him, and his chest feels tight in the best of ways. It surprises him when her smile drops from her face, and her voice becomes suddenly small. “When do you leave?”

“Oh, I haven’t—I haven’t booked that yet. I was hoping…”

“What?”

“That we’d…”

“You were?”

He looks away blushing, but he hears her stand, and she brushes a few fingers under his chin, and he turns back to her. “After I got that letter…when you said Jacob and Queenie had told you I’d be coming to the wedding, and you, well…“

“Went on about how excited I was for far too many pages?”

“Just enough pages. A good number of pages.”

She tilts her head and smiles, and he delights in having amused her. 

“I think I have a week at least before I need to be back. Bunty can manage until then.”

She wets her lips and looks somewhere over his shoulder. “I can take a day or two, sometimes, maybe. Come to England, if…”

He steps forward and takes her hand to stop another moment’s doubt. “Tina, I’ll come back to New York. It’s easier for me.”

“You will?”

“Of course I will.” He wishes he could make it clear to her. That people want to do things for her. That it’s not a burden. “Your job’s too important. They need you here. And I’m not going months without seeing you again. Not anymore.”

She laughs; relieved, tearful. “Your job’s important, too.”

“Bunty can look after everyone. I can edit manuscripts from anywhere.” He’s thought all of this through, in the quiet moments when he reread her letters and ached to see her. “In fact, editing them with you nearby sounds much nicer than it usually is. And I can bring the creatures that need to be with me in the case.” He grins. “That is, if the Head Auror will let me bring my case into the country that often.”

Tina laughs a bright, beautiful laugh. “I hear she might be convinced.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm. Might need to be shown around, though. Just to check.”

“I could arrange that, I think.” She rests a hand on his shoulder and kisses him, once. A thank you. He wants her to know he doesn’t need it. He cups the back of her head and finds her gaze. “I want to.”

She nods, her eyes suddenly filled with tears again. Their hands tangle, and the moment settles. She laughs wetly. “We should get to the creatures, shouldn’t we?”

He leans forward to kiss her forehead. 

She touches the skin beside his eyes. “You must be tired. It’s nearly morning in London.”

He leans into her hand. “Mm, haven’t noticed it yet.” But the mention of sleep draws out an involuntary yawn.

She lifts her eyebrows teasingly. 

He shakes his head at his body’s betrayal, and her eyes dance. Merlin, how is he going to close his eyes to sleep, when there are so many things to see? “Come on, then,” he says. This time, he is the one to tug her by the hand, and bring her with him, deeper into the case.

[arcandoria]

Dante, or Dee if you want... 1, 23, 31; definitely for Dee: 33 😘

Thanks Wash! Both? Both. Both is good!

1. what is their full name? do they have any nicknames? what are they and why did they get them?

Dante Hadzhiev Alkan Nickname: Wolf, V, City Boy Wolf: Old nickname from his homeland, used to be his netspace name and just his "theme" in the clan. V: When he fled to NC, VV0LF became just "V". The simplicity stuck. City Boy: A silly jab from the Aldecaldos and his inexperience being a USA Nomad. It's more for shows, he (usually) knows what he's doing. lol Driss Alkan-Palmer Nickname: Dee Initially, Dee had trouble pronouncing her own name, so instead of Driss she'd say Dee. It stuck as a nickname! It was particularly relevant during her transition, while she was still deciding if she'd keep being Scorpion's namesake or not.

23. do they prefer the city or the badlands?

Dante still has a few things he prefer from the city, but the longer he lives in the Badlands, the more he enjoys it. If we're talking Night City's Badlands specifically, he definitely liked the Badlands more. Specially after running into a certain Aldecaldo troublemaker. ;) Dee doesn't often go into the big cities aside from the Nomad ones, which are very different from heavily urbanized places. She enjoys the novelty every once in a while, but overall prefers to stay out in the desert - the city feels oddly constricting after being so used to big open spaces and lots of fresh air.

31. who are their closest chooms in NC?

Dante's first closest choom was obviously Jackie. When Jackie dies, he clings a lot to Violeta who also went through the whole Heist hell with them and is grieving Jackie as much as he is. Afterwards, Judy definitely becomes as close as Leta. Dee, born in Tucson, obviously doesn't really have a taste of NC. But by then Judy has already joined the 'Caldos, and is her godmother, so she has a really close bond with the techie, too.

33. what is/was their relationship like with their parents? 

Dee is daddy's little girl and mother's baby. Overall they all get along pretty well! With her dad, most hiccups involve Dante's over-protectiveness and sometimes his unwillingless to talk about his past - she's nosy. With Panam, they get along well on the basis that their personalities are very similar - but that also means that when they fight, a lot of sparks fly. Panam kind of tries to help Dee avoid making the same mistakes she did when younger, but also knows that being equally stubborn, she might have to go through the pain by herself before learning. But in the big picture she feels very loved, that most of her needs are filled and that she can rely on her parents. Even when she was on her most vulnerable state, coming to terms with her gender and her sexuality, she didn't feel alone or that they wouldn't support her.

[12tardis]

Drunken Smiles (Newt Scamander x Reader)

Warnings: alcohol mentions, obnoxious Theseus AGAIN Requested: Yes! Anon requested drunk Newt! Cute silent moments where he gets distracted and drinks someone elses drink. I hope you like it anon! I’m sorry if this isn’t exactly what you meant. Pairing: Newt Scamander x Reader Summary: Your boyfriend Newt hasn’t gotten drunk in front of you for years after he embarrassed himself back during your Hogwarts days. He seems to have a strange habit involving you when he drinks a little too much. Features obnoxious older brother Theseus and even some teasing Leta. Also features the bully from ‘Love Language’.

A/N: Inspired by my favourite manager who kept referring to his girlfriend as his wife for years whenever he was drunk. They’re married now <3 I hope you like. Please send me more requests!

Words: 3,270 Taglist:  @moonkissk7​ @just-an-outstanding-auror​

The music in the small jazz lounge was thrumming in your ears as you smiled back at your boyfriend adoringly, sipping on your drink as the two of you drifted closer together in the small booth. You had just finished up at one of his book signings and had knocked back a few drinks each as you waited for Theseus and Leta to join you shortly.

 “Oh hello,” you giggled when he scooted into the booth right next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing an affectionate smooch to your cheek, taking your hand in his free one and then pressing a series of kisses to your knuckles. You were pleasantly buzzed from the mulled mead you’d had so far but Newt was clearly a little more on the tipsy side as he was suddenly lavishing you with unabashed affection that was usually reserved for the privacy of your own home.

 “Hello, darling girl. My muse, my...my angel in disguise. Wait no not disguise because you’re clearly otherworldly”, he paused his rambling to hum to himself in thought and you giggled again, feeling your cheeks warm as you looked back at him.

 “Newton, what?” You chuckled, reaching up to card your fingers through his unruly locks, watching him frown as he tried to find the words he was trying to say. He pouted to himself when he came up short and you pressed a kiss to his cheek with a fond smile “it’s okay, I don’t expect you to be a romantic poet when you’re drunk too.”

 “I’m not drunk!” Newt huffed, looking back you in offence and huffing again to himself “I was just trying to tell my girlfriend how important she is to me”, he sighed, slumping back against the booth and you smiled softly at him, leaning in to brush your lips against his slowly and that’s how you knew he was a lot more tipsy than he let on. Because usually in public, Newt only returned short and sweet kisses but this time he slipped his arms around you and kissed you back slowly with a soft but happy sigh.

 And in your slightly buzzed state you too allowed yourself to lean more into the kiss, sitting back quickly when some other patrons accidentally brushed against you as they made their way through the rapidly filling club.

 You glanced down at Newt’s watch, straightening your dress out “they’ll be here soon. Let’s go get us some more drinks before the bar gets swamped?”, you tugged Newt to his feet, smiling as his arm wrapped around your waist again as he lead you towards the bar.

 Newt had refused to drink around you other than a few casual drinks after your first and last time getting drunk together had resulted in him embarrassing himself. And as he pulled you closer into his side when another gentleman smiled a little too warmly at you, you couldn’t help but remember that time in your seventh year.

                                              -     -     -     -     -     -

You and Newt had practically sprinted to The Three Broomsticks once you’d both finished your N.E.W.Ts exams, knocking back all the strongest drinks they had on offer in celebration. You were sitting, pressed up together in the corner of the pub laughing as you reminisced over some of your memories together when Newt suddenly wrapped his arm around your waist.

Physical affection was no stranger to your friendship. In fact, usually not a single conversation or interaction went by without you touching one another in some way but Newt usually only ever slung his arm around your waist when you were cold or in need of comfort, or in those instances when you would perch yourself in his lap and he did so to steady you.

 What you hadn’t realised was that Zachary Lindensbaum had stepped into the pub flanked by his buddies, prompting such a response from Newt. He was the very same douchebag that had asked you out on a date the previous year only to humiliate you in front of half the school when he loudly announced it was all a prank and Newt felt a surge of protectiveness when he spotted him arrive, remembering how upset you had been that time.

 Protectiveness as well as an undeniable flare of jealousy at the memories that cropped up of Zachary spending those few days wooing you with his smarmy pickup lines, half wilted roses and messy love letters- if you could even call them that.

 Newt had been so certain he had experienced his first real heart-break when he saw you smile shyly back at the Gryffindor beater the year before. But then only a week later he was the one to find you crying, beside yourself with humiliation and he felt utter disdain and contempt for the first time in his life.

 So when he saw that Zachary had spotted you and the way his eyes lit up as he made a bee line towards your table, Newt curled his arm even tighter around you. You stopped mid-way through your story when you felt Newt pulling you into him and you looked over at him, following his line of sight and swallowing thickly when you saw Zachary.

 You hadn’t spoken to the other male since that day and you had really hoped to keep it that way but now you straightened up in your seat, bracing yourself for whatever Zachary had to say this time. Your jaw dropped however when Newt held a hand up towards the other male “Nope. Absolutely not.”

 Zachary had already slipped onto the bench across from you when Newt spoke and he just stared back at him dumbly for a moment “I’m sorry what?” he frowned, his eyes flicking between you two but you were just as gobsmacked too.

 Newt simply shook his head, making a shooing motion at Zachary “Nope”, he repeated, popping the ‘p’ while his other hand began to soothe up and down along your side in an attempt to calm you.

 “Nope what, Scamander? I just sat down”, Zachary scoffed back at him, his temper rapidly rising causing you to press into Newt anxiously.

 “And you’re leaving now. You’re not sitting here, you’re not welcome. We don’t want to hear what you have to say. Off you go,” Newt countered firmly, fixing the male with a cold stare.

 Newt spoke so matter of factly that you couldn’t believe your ears and neither could Zachary apparently because he just gaped at Newt for another minute before he got up from his seat wordlessly and left.

 You watched until Zachary and his friends were long out of sight before you looked up at Newt, your head spinning from a mixture of alcohol and the sheer shock of Newt so confidently sending your harasser away like a complete badass.

 Newt smiled back down at you, promptly slipping back into his usual sweet demeanour as he tucked a stray piece of your hair behind your ear “I think we need more drinks don’t you?” he hummed, his confidence leaving you breathless.

 The night wore on and you were both soon completely sloshed, leaning on each other and the table for support as you both slurred through your words. You got up from the table clumsily, giggling at Newt’s equally as clumsy attempt to steady you as he looked up at you like a kicked puppy “Y/N where going?” he drawled, clutching your hand.

 “Bathroom. Be right back.”, you hiccupped and your words were considerably clearer than his but it took you much longer to form your sentences. You made your way to the bathroom, emerging a while later and freezing in your tracks, sobering up immediately when you saw Newt standing cornered by Zachary and two of his burly friends.

 “SHE IS SO FAR OUT OF YOUR LEAGUE IT’S A JOKE!” Newt shouted, moving right into Zachary’s personal space as other patrons began to crowd around, wanting to catch a peek at the drama unfolding.

 You stood frozen by the bathroom door, staring at Newt in shock and rising fear when you saw Zachary’s fists clenched in response, but your alcohol addled state wasn’t allowing your feet to cooperate with your brain. In your mind you were already at Newt’s side, pulling him back from impending harm but in reality you were standing there dumbfounded.

 “What and you think a freak like you is more her league?!”, Zachary shouted back and Newt didn’t even flinch as he shook his head.

 “No. No one is this god forsaken school is good enough for her! You’re a total idiot for throwing away your shot like you did! And a- a complete Neanderthal for hurting her like that!”

 Zachary didn’t even have a chance to form a retort because Newt was continuing to rant on about all the reasons why he had messed up.

 “You could have been with the most loyal, kind hearted, passionate, breathtaking woman to exist! The most incredible, adorable, and strong woman but instead you decided to be a cruel and blithering idiot!”

 You stared at Newt with your mouth agape, feeling your heart race and not just from the alcohol as you took in his words. Some of your peers were staring back at you too because they knew he was talking about you even though he hadn’t used your name. It was only ever you.

 “I wish I’d had half a mind to make your hair permanently purple!”, Newt shouted, and all the other students went silent in shock as Zachary grit his teeth. Zachary’s purple hair had been the talk of the school for several weeks, leaving the other boy humiliated everywhere he went.

 “I KNEW it was you that swapped out my shampoo!” Zachary shouted back at him, his fist colliding with Newt’s face not a second later in a sickening crunch. And your brain finally snapped into gear as you ran to Newt, shoving past Zachary and his friends to grasp his shoulders “Newt!”

 Newt gripped his face in pain as he stumbled back, growing enraged again when he heard one of Zachary’s friends sneer “all over some Hufflepuff bitch,” which drew a few disgusted gasps from the surrounding crowd.

 “YOU TAKE THAT BACK!”, Newt shouted, going to shove the guy that had insulted you but you grabbed two jugs of iced water from the bar and threw them over the group of boys before any more punches could be thrown.

 They all gasped collectively at the shock from the ice water drenching them and some of the bartenders took the chance to grab Zachary’s sidekicks, throwing them out of the pub while the maître d’, Dottie, threw a mop and bucket and some towels at Newt and Zachary angrily.

 “Clean up your mess and piss off! And you lot, stop gawking like twits! Nothin’ to see here!” Dottie scowled, making sure the crowd dispersed before she turned to you, taking the empty jugs from your hands.

You immediately began to stutter, apologising profusely for the mess you’d caused but Dottie simply waved her hand at you dismissively. She was an plump, older woman who could be truly intimidating when she needed to be.

 “No harm done, blossom. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you two helping me clean up the last time things got rowdy.” she smiled warmly, pushing you to sit down before she handed you a glass of water, seeing how tipsy and sleepy you were.

 You shot Zachary a cold glare when he shoved past Newt after cleaning up the area and once he was gone you began fussing over Newt and his split lip.

 You were so far gone you didn’t trust your ability to perform a healing charm on him so you let out a breath of relief when Dottie appeared with an ice pack that you gratefully took from her.

 “Oh Newt, you shouldn’t have done that,” you sighed, holding the ice pack up to his lip and gently brushing his hair back from his eyes, sighing when he looked back at you with wide doe eyes “he was being an ass!”

 You sighed again as you shook your head at him, feeling incredibly guilty for not stepping in sooner “I know but you went and got yourself hurt, Newt.”

 Newt looked back at you with a dazed and dreamy smile, taking your hand “anything for my wife,” he murmured and you looked up at Dottie when the woman cackled in response, clapping Newt in the shoulder.

 “Deary me, son. I think ya gettin’ ahead of yourself. There’s a couple steps in between ya know, girlfriend, fiancé?”, she chuckled again when Newt shook his head, pointing a finger in your direction. “Nope. That’s my wife,” he said matter-of-factly, smiling back at you with pride.

 You were openly gawking at Newt now, your cheeks warm and your stomach flipping but you didn’t allow yourself to believe the adoring expression he wore. Instead you looked up at Dottie in alarm.

 “Oh my stars he’s concussed! I’ve gotta take him to the med bay!” you panicked, quickly stumbling to your feet while Newt continued to spout nonsense at you.

 But Dottie was quick to placate you, having one of her co-workers who was also a nurse come and check Newt over.

 Within half an hour the two of you were headed back to the castle hand in hand and Newt was mortified and made you promise that you would never discuss the events of the night again.

                                          -     -     -     -     -     -

 You couldn’t help but laugh as you reminisced on Newt’s drunk shenanigans, leaning into his side while he ordered a round of drinks for the pair of you and Theseus and Leta. He looked down at you, raising an eyebrow “are you laughing at me again?” He asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes at you.

 You shook your head, leaning up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek and before you could respond, Newt had knocked back the drink in front of him in one gulp.

In his tipsy state he had thought the drink was his own, completely failing to notice it was a different colour and served in a different glass to what he’d been drinking already.

 “Merlin that is NOT mulled mead!”, he gasped with wide eyes, his throat burning while the bartender stared back at him.

 “Hey! That’s my drink!”, a gentleman beside Newt complained just as the bartender shook his head in annoyance. You quickly intervened, paying for the drinks and a replacement for the disgruntled stranger beside you.

 Theseus and Leta appeared then, helping you to carry the drinks. “Newt, did I just see you shot a hogs tea?” Theseus asked incredulously, gripping his brother by the shoulder and you snapped your head up to look at Newt with wide eyes “Hogs tea!? He was already tipsy before!”

 Newt nodded, sitting down clumsily in the booth beside you while you hugged the couple in greeting.

The second you had pulled away from Leta, Newt wasted no time in tugging you into the booth beside him, wrapping his arms around your waist and hooking his chin over your shoulder.

 “Yes, definitely hogs tea”, Newt murmured, already beginning to slur his words. Leta and Theseus sat down across from you both, surprised to see Newt being so cuddly towards you. His affections for you had never been a secret but to see him so unreserved as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder and nuzzled at your neck was startling to the pair.

 “Newt, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk,” Leta said as Theseus nodded quickly in agreement.

 “Even I’ve only seen it a handful of times. What about you Y/N?”, he asked curiously, trying not to laugh at how flustered you were getting as Newt just smiled down at you with a love struck smile.

 “Only once before. After our N.E.W.Ts”, you murmured looking back at your boyfriend while Leta snorted at the memory. She’d heard about the drama the following day.

 “ ‘Mnot drunk thank you very much”, Newt protested with an irritated scowl, holding a finger up to Theseus challengingly and you giggled as you took his hand in your own, effectively drawing his attention back to you. You watched him as his features smoothed out again and he was gazing back at you in awe once again.

 “My beautiful wife,” he murmured, raising your hand to his lips and your mouth dropped in response as you felt your cheeks flush warm.

 Theseus slapped his hand on the table excitedly, practically bouncing with joy because he knew Newt had been planning to propose for a few months now. “What did you finally-OW” , he frowned when Leta stomped on his foot under the table.

 She too was excited at the prospect but she was much quicker to notice the surprise on your face and the obvious lack of a ring on your hand. There was no way she was about to let her boyfriend spoil her best friends eventual proposal.

 Thankfully you were completely oblivious as usual, shaking your head at Theseus “no he’s just drunk. He did this exact same thing last time- except I thought he was concussed then,” you breathed out, looking back at your boyfriend in wonder.

 You stayed at the club for another hour or so, glad to catch up with Theseus and Leta even though you were very distracted by how handsy and cuddly Newt was being. Theseus of course found the whole situation to be hilarious and decided to start correcting his brother, grinning at how increasingly frustrated Newt was growing.

“Water for my wife!” Newt announced proudly, setting a glass in front of you and only spilling a bit of it as he returned to his spot beside you, slinging his arm around your waist.

 “Your girlfriend you mean,” Theseus corrected with a slight smirk when Leta shot him an exasperated look.

 “No. Wife.”

 “Girlfriend.”

 “Wife.”

 And even Leta was starting to smile now watching the brothers bicker while you just watched on with a bewildered smile.

 “Oh you mean, MY wife?”, Theseus questioned, mocking confusion as he reached for your hand, gesturing to himself.

 “No!”, Newt huffed, slapping Theseus’ hand away and curling his arm around you tighter and this time Leta grinned as she decided to tease her friend too, taking your hand in her own.

 “My wife?”, she smirked, pressing a loud smooch to the back of your hand making you giggle.

 “NO!” Newt gasped with wide eyes, looking so miserable that you quickly took pity on him, slipping your hand out of Leta’s and cupping his face in your hands.

 “Okay okay! Honey I think it’s time we got you home”, you smiled sweetly at him before you brushed your lips against his and Newt promptly relaxed again.

 You said your goodbyes to Theseus and Leta before you made your way back to your flat with Newt. You didn’t correct him once, allowing yourself to enjoy the illusion of being Mrs. Scamander like you so wished to be.

 And when Newt woke the following morning with a pounding headache you were beside him waiting with a light breakfast and a cup of tea ready for him.

 “Merlin, did I do anything embarrassing last night?” Newt groaned, setting his hand on your knee as he sat up gingerly.

 “Not at all my, love,” you smiled, passing him his tea and leaning in to press a kiss to his head “nothing at all.”

  Please send me requests!

-MASTERLIST HERE-

[amywilliamsaccmp]

#Newtinaweek2021 #fbfanevents

Day 3: For where Treasure is, your heart will be there as well.

4 months. That's how long they have been together. 4 months since either of them have confessed their feelings for one another. Ever since their second battle against Grindelwald (that happened in Paris), things have been different between them. From first look to first kiss, things spiralled between them, all feelings are out there for the world to know and neither of them cared who did. That was until....

"Newt?"

Newt looked up at Tina, sitting next to him at the breakfast table, looking at him with a look of concern, idly munching on her toast.

"Yes, dear?" he asked. They only just begun the pet names.

"Is everything alright?" she gestures to the letter in his hands.

"Erm....yes" he says, although not convincingly.

"Newt..." Tina's look now changes to one she uses with interrogation, Newt recognises this after a few....disagreements.

"I really can't say"

"Why not?"

"Because it will upset you"

Tina puts down her half eaten slice of toast on a plate and folds her arms on the table.

"Try me" she says, trying to be brave. With Tina, when it comes to emotions, she's usually good at keeping them at bay. Although, when it comes to Newt, it's been proven difficult.

Newt takes a deep breath, puts down his letter and takes both of her hands in his.

"I have to go" he puts it, simply.

Tina looks confused. "Go? Go where?"

Newt looks into her eyes. Luckily no visible tears, yet, but he does not like the look on her face, full of mild concern.

"I have to go to Egpyt"

"Egypt?" she questions.

"Yes. There's been a sighting of another Thunderbird being trafficked. I need to go over there and save them" Newt has a pleading look in his eyes, tears beginning to form.

Tina smiles and squeezes his hands. "I know you do. You care so much for them. It's one of the reasons I love you" she then gasps after realising what she just told him.

Newt looks equally as shocked as her. Then he smiles a little.

"You do?" he asks.

Tina nods, her smile radiating. Newt smiles widely back. He tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, as he did last year, leans in and kisses her. They pull apart a few minutes later. Their eyes sparkling with happiness.

"I love you too, Tina"

She kisses him, lasting slightly longer than their previous kiss.

It's the night before Newt leaves to go Egypt for three weeks. Tina at first, finds it difficult to sleep, but after convincing Newt to share her bed with her only to sleep in for the night, she drifts off to a comforting slumber. Newt, on the other hand, stays awake. His arms around a sleeping Tina and his ears hearing her deep breaths is calming, but there is still something nagging at him from the back of his mind.

We love each other. We love each other. But then....what does that mean for us now? Where do we go from here? What do I do now? It's too early for us to even think about marriage, right? But, we love each other so that must mean something significant must be done, right? We can't think about marriage yet, I mean we don't live together exactly. We haven't even talked about where we would live if we did. England or America? I have a feeling that talk will be coming soon. What could I do for the woman I love when I leave?

Newt's thought swims around many ideas for what to do for Tina. Then it hits him. Like a young Graphorn playing with their sibling, the idea hits him. He remembers back at Hogwarts an old tradition of last year students handing their beloved their house ring. It was supposed to represent the fact that even though they were going their seperate ways, they will be able to be with each other again. If he was never expelled, he wouldv'e reckoned back then that he might of given his hufflepuff ring to Leta. But Tina is his beloved. Leta's married to his brother now, she has a real gold band on her finger, not some silly promise ring. But for Tina, it will be perfect. A promise ring. Another promise made since the one he made to her about his book. He kept that one and he will keep this one too. A promise that no matter what they will find each other again and be with each other, the one they love.

Newt drifts off soon after.

-

Newt gets up early, does his morning feeding rounds, gets dressed and prepares breakfast for two. He climbs into his case and looks through all his drawers until he finnaly finds it. In a little back box, sits his house ring; a simple gold ring with a big black jewel and two smaller yellow jewels either side of it. It looks simple, yet the gesture of it is much more significant. He puts it into his suit jacketpocket and climbs up, just before Tina wakes up.

-

Tina blinks rapidly to adjust her eyes to the morning sunlight and gets up, walking into the living room and sees the spread on the dining table. She watches as Newt flows around the dining table, placing down two cups. Newt looks up and smiles when he sees her. She smiles too and goes to sit at the table, helping herself to a cup of coffee, which Newt just made, and a plate of toast, eggs and sausages. Newt leans in to kiss her cheek; "morning, dear. How is it you look so beautiful in the morning?"

Tina blushes. "Oh, Newt, you flatter me"

Newt sits down next to her at the table, cup of tea in hand and a plate of toast in front of him.

"You're not having anything more than that?" Tina asks him, gesturing to his plate.

"No, I will bee travelling by portkey to get to Egypt, and it can cause me to feel nauseous"

"I understand. I once travelled by portkey for work"

Newt puts down his cup. "Tina, I need to talk to you"

Tina nods and puts down her cutlery. Newt then takes both her hands in his.

"Ever since we said 'I love you', I've been thinking. Our relationship has moved forward, but not yet ready for anything big like living together or marriage, am I right in thinking this?"

Tina nods.

"Well, that's why I thought of a way to still be together, even when we are apart"

"Newt, what are you-" Tina stops when she sees Newt take something out of his pocket. He places a little black box in front of her. Tina just stares at it, not moving or even blinking. Her heartbeat suddenly increases.

"It's not what you think, Tina" Newt says as he opens the box and presents her the ring.

"Newt, that's a ring"

"I know, but it's not what you think. Let me explain; back at Hogwarts, there was this tradition that students in their last year were given their house ring. Mine's hufflepuff, which explains the colours"

"Just like yur scarf"

"Yes, exactly. Anyway, students usually gave their beloved ther house ring as a promise to say that no matter what direction they will go in life, even if it keeps them miles away from each other, they will always find each other in the end. It's a promise to stay together, no matter what happens. Thanks to dumbedore, i was bale to keep my wand and take my exams earlier than the other students. I got given this ring just before I had to leave due to my expulsion. I never got the chance to give this to my beloved. But now, your the woman I love and I want to give this to you so that whenever you see it or are wearing it, you know I will come back to you and will carry on loving each other as if there was never any distance between us."

Tina has tears in her eyes when he's finished. She squeezes one of his hands. Newt then uses his hands to take the ring out of it's box and holds it out to Tina.

"So, Porpentina Goldstein, will you accept this ring and promise me to never let distance seperate us or break our love?"

Tina looks into his eyes and smiles wider, tears now streaming down her cheeks. She nods.

"Yes Newt. I will accept your ring and I promise"

Newt's smile widens and he places the ring on her ring finger of her left hand. He strokes her finger with his thumb, both of them now looking down at the ring.

"Someday, there could be an engagement ring on this finger. Would you agree?"

"Yes, someday" she replies.

They kiss, then turns more passionately, until the clock chimes and makes them both break the kiss and look up at the time. It says 7'o clock. Newt has to go to MACUSA for the portkey soon. They eat breakfast in quiet happiness. Tina gets up to get dressed and then they walk together to MACUSA and stop at the department of international travel, where Tina finds herself once again saying goodbye to the British wizard.

"Goodbye, Newt. I'm gonna miss you"

"I'll miss you too. Goodbye, Tina. I love you"

"I love you too"

He kisses her chastely on the lips and strokes the ring on her finger. He then turns and grabs onto an old, beaten kettle and disappears with it in a swirl. Tina walks to the auror department all the while stroking the ring on her finger and smiling.

The end.

The middle ring is the one in this story. Hope you like it for newtina week.

[sapphicwhxre]

tiny pansy rant, cut short so it’s *hopefully* not too long:

i. wanted. to. see. her. change! and in my opinion the reason she never got the chance was because jkr used her character to make fun of people she disliked :/

pretty much all the other noteable slytherins had some sort of redemption arc,, and yeah they’re still mostly problematic people but they got chances: snape, draco, narcissa, regulus, slughorn, leta and technically andromeda? you get the point i just—

like miss ma’am decided to make pansy,, the like slytherin stereotype? and have her want to betray harry? she was seventeen ffs, not bellatrix lestrange. she was in the middle of a war? in my personal opinion i don’t think that she wanted to hand harry over out of cruelty like. it’s possible? but maybe she was just scared? also don’t we know that pansy was terrified at the thought of like. voldemort coming to hogwarts? again: everyone expects all of the children in harry potter to be these selfless brave individuals,, they’re kids :( yes ik it’s ya fantasy but cmon. they were supposed to be stressed about the N.E.W.T exams not the upheaval of their society?

and don’t get me wrong i know that she was. not a good person. she was a bitchy teenage bully who was taught hateful views. but i wanted to see her change even a little– even draco marries someone who presumably teaches him how to treat people equally? like. there was so much room for change: she was a prefect, she was capable of some kindness seeing as she liked draco, or alternatively, we could’ve seen her break away from draco and potentially stop hating harry/all his friends quite so much or develop her own opinions. or maybe her group of friends that she used for validation throughout her school years was uprooted during the war and she had to learn that independency? or her pointing out harry could’ve been turned into trying to be selfless, like she thought they’d be safe that way, or she returned later fighting with reinforcements to show she was on Hogwarts’ side. jkr is always like "well they technically came back to fight, if you squint » but that’s not enough. also? let’s say we did get a glimpse of her during the actual battle: there could’ve been anything, the smallest scene, that showed some sort of support or reconciliation or something between her and hermione, considering how hermione was often pansy’s target. everybody wants to see forgiveness between draco and harry because of minor events/details (i dislike drarry but that’s besides the point), but imagine what could’ve changed with some semblance of apology or assistance from pansy to hermione. there were so many chances for r*wling to give her a smallest redemption

but instead we got her characterized as evil and a stupid, cowardly traitor. she the only person we ever see her care for marries her friends younger sister. she’s the written depiction of jkr’s bitterness and her arc is jkr’s vengeance.

also, another reason that i’m so mad she got nothing is because of the whole slytherin=evil thing. she’s made into a stereotype of a “slytherin”— cruel, selfish, shallow, ugly, and asinine. (also i could rant about slytherin forever, but can we just mention that jkr consistently refers to slytherins as physically ugly and just how fucked up that is? i– wtf). but anyway: to give pansy a chance to change is to give the slytherin house a chance to change its reputation. trying to justify that the slytherin house got its redemption because of the actions of ppl like snape or regulus, etc isn’t possible. because all of those “slytherin heroes” were described again and again as being “different from all the other slytherins”. they set themselves apart by being decent. they weren’t normal slytherins, no, they were set apart, they were brave and smart and kind— not evil. there’s no redemption to be found there. i wish jkr would just fucking say that being sorted into slytherin was being made into a villain. she dodged around it with rhetorical questions and pointing out how not All of them are bad,, and then will go on to mock the other slytherins and talk about how the heroes were Not Like The Other Snakes... again: there’s no redemption of slytherin as a house, as a quality, as a concept there. it’s just the redemption of an individual.

in pansy, however, we could’ve found so much more. like i said, she’s The Average Slytherin: not a hero, not a villain like voldemort. she’s made out to be a depiction of the typical slytherin student, one without a “destiny”, so to speak. and so to give her the chance, to see her change, to have her redefine herself? that would be a starting point for restoring slytherin as a whole (obviously not the best way, and the real best thing to do would be not to make an entire house be the bad guys in the first place, but–) to have someone who’s the figurehead of slytherin (like actually a figurehead,, girl is a even a prefect) show remorse and growth gives the entire house the seed of redemption. it would mean that after over a thousand years there could be peace between the houses. obviously not the only factor in reconciliation but still so important.

and not to just continue to heap on my own issues with it, but look. i know that there are so many other ways to introduce “mundane” antagonists without making them a symbol of anything. pansy could’ve been a bitch without representing slytherin. also pansy doesn’t have to break character and become kind for amends to be made. they don’t even have to be fully made, just started. but jkr chose to:

a.) go with bullying as a minor antagonistic element

b.) create and develop a character around that theme

c.) make this character only based on her own negative personal experiences

d.) turn that character into a representation of a much larger group of people

e.) deny that character any final moment that could begin to make amends for her actions and instead, chooses to make her “defining” moment an act of evil and cowardice

f.) either neglects the character or chooses plot points that would humiliate the character in all the glimpses of the future we are shown (ex. how dracos marriage is)

g.) openly mocks and insults the character repeatedly and never directly comes out and proves she didn’t write slytherins as evil

h.) to the best of my knowledge, ignores that pansy personifing slytherin, whether intentionally or unintentionally, and then characterizing both as “bad” and not giving them a chance to grow, is a summary of her thoughts on slytherin ls and is a possible interpretation of the text (i mean her opinions are already TRASH)

i. ignores the consequences of this or the possible effect it has on her entire fanbase and doesn’t seek to remedy it

but yeah, jkr, it was such a good idea to base a character off of your loathesone memories, take your anger out on her, and that choose to have that character partially represent a large percentage of your fanbase. thank you sooooo much. i really appreciate it!

summary:

I. Pansy— deserved an opportunity to have some character development. everyone else’s mistakes get overlooked to some degree save hers. had so many places to draw inspiration/opportunity from. could’ve progressed other ideas in the book and the analysis of her house while still remaining a “dislikable” character

II. Writing— from a “technical?” aspect, Pansy is underdeveloped and stagnant, used for personal reasons instead of as a plot device. perpetuates the slytherin=bad idea via a sloppy and repetitive characterization and emblem. there are ways around this that weren’t used.

III. I have no qualifications to be saying any of this lmao. Am I reading to much into it, knowing that Rowling tends to be shitty with writing details? Am I being dramatic and repetitive? probably!

IV. Fuck JKR (for everything. she’s an awful person)

anyways this has been: my mini-rant on pansy and her analysis,,, and i am terribly sorry,, i offer my apologies in advance for randomly dumping this into your inbox. it’s long and opinionated and there’s no real reason behind it! i just thought of it and then thought about it some more and then. here we are

ilysm mwah <3 should’ve definitely done something more productive but shh😭 rat brain hours

this is everything, you're completely right. i don't have much to add but i agree all the way. and people give pansy so much shit for the harry thing but she seemed genuinely scared of voldemort coming back and i really think that she believed he would leave them alone if they gave him up. from her perspective, it's either her and the people she cares about get to live or this guy that she not only isn't close to but probably sees as the bad guy considering she dated/was best friends with draco and witnessed their rivalry from his side. did she make the best decisions? no, not at all but i see her reasons and i don't think it makes her this antichrist that jkr makes her out to be. she pulled the “he's just a boy” with draco and had people sympathise with him when he did so so much worse than pansy did so why doesn't that apply to her? she's a kid. they all are. i love harry, ron, and hermione SO MUCH but jkr really said fuck everyone who isn't them ─ especially any girl who isn't her precious hermione. she projected her own pettiness onto fictional characters who are CHILDREN and proceeded to get upset when people connected to and loved other people that she herself made. creating such an underdeveloped character and expecting people to hate her just because she imagined her as her bully is beyond immature and ridiculous. anyways. jkr take a fucking chill pill and leave my girl alone.

[siren-of-redriver96]

HC: Tina starts carrying around a photo of Newt as well :)

Insert an elaborate story on how Theseus gave her a pocket watch, a while after the incidents of Paris, a non-magic one he got it from Percival Graves post WWI - to always remember to spend time on life outside work too ... preferably with a photo of someone who mattered the most. Post Paris, it hurt to feel it in his jacket, but he kept Leta’s photo, securely in a small album at home.

For Newt, though he understood Theseus, it was still a symbol of their connection via their mentor, and the growing friendship he wasn’t entirely comfortable with - until, post getting together, she showed him the picture she framed inside - which, no matter the quarrels they had, she never thought to replace or take out.

She had the photo already, from his file - a copy she had made a while after NY - and it was her favourite of him so far still, because in most she had seen and his daily life among people, he appeared shy (not about his his opinions though) and quiet - but the more she got to know him with him, the more she got to see his courageous and self-assured side ... which only came out picture-wise in the ones he had taken for his ministry file/passport etc.

Working in law enforcement for years, she met tons of people who pretended confidence and many other things, only to reveal that inside of them, there wasn’t much of anything at all, and they were scared, self-interested, shallow or outright hostile towards people.

He’s the opposite. He keeps many things to himself, but whenever time comes, he’s brave and puts all his skills to work - while always taking care of what it’s ultimately for. This look of steadiness, mixed with well-trained defiance for the world he often stands against - and, at the same time, still somehow carrying the gentleness she fell in love with first .. she keeps it right by her heart.

Plus, maybe she’s known many men who shied away from a woman who asked questions and, simply, didn’t take their bs ... Newt is open for equal discussions and wouldn’t think of leaving her for not always agreeing with him. He looks at her on one level. (that’s what makes a power-couple ;))

[bloodtroth]

Hello! Not sure if you are taking prompts but if so... Jealous Albus. I read quite great fics, including some of you (You Are Driving Me Crazy was great) with Gellert as the jealous one. I think it'd be interesting to see the usually controlled Albus show this side of him. Teen or adult, fluffy or angst, it's up to you.

A/N: So, sorry, anon that this took like. idk six months maybe. I started like three different fics on this concept until I finally managed to write this today. Hope you like it and that it at least somewhat resembles what you were after.

This was a bad idea. Albus knew that but, somehow, he was still standing there, staring down the slope at Nurmengard castle. The wind was tugging at his robes, carrying the autumn chill deep into his bones as he stared at the fortress surrounded by a barren landscape. The castle was lovely, but it stood alone, the desolateness of the surrounding mountains sharpening the feeling of acute loneliness Albus felt standing there. It did not feel like a place where Gellert should live.

Coming here had been just a moment's impulse, inspired by the pictures he had seen months ago that still haunted him. Images of a young man in an alleyway in New York, his face enveloped by Gellert's hands, his disguised face much too close to the boy’s own. The boy was with Gellert now. He imagined where else those hands had been by now.

He should leave. He should leave now. There was nothing to be gained here. He and Gellert had been over for a long time, even if his heart had difficulty letting go. He was a fool. A damn fool who should know better. He should leave now. He took a step back, intending to disapparate when he heard a rustle coming from behind him.

"Leaving so soon?" a voice asked. Albus closed his eyes. It was a voice he could recognise anywhere. It had haunted him for years, following behind his steps like a shadow, intruding frequently into his nights, in both dreams and nightmares. Still, he had almost forgotten the cadence of it, the deep smoothness that made him think of the nights spend inside the barn, their hair tousled and sweat drying on their skin. He did not dare to open his eyes. It would be too real. He would be too real.

Warmth washed over his back as Gellert stepped closer to him. It made Albus shiver and, instinctively, press closer to his warmth.

A deep chuckle reverberated between them, and it felt as if it was amplified by the mountains surrounding them.

Gellert's moustache tickled against Albus's cheek.

"You are freezing," he murmured.

A second later, it felt as if a warm blanket settled over Albus, blocking out the chilly mountain air.

Finding his voice, Albus thanked him quietly, well aware that those were the first words he had said to Gellert in years. (The last words had been shouted through tears as he was cradling his sister's dead body, his heart breaking in too many ways he never managed to count. He could not recall what he had said. The shock had erased it from his memory. Had it been words of hate, or had he been begging him to stay? He couldn't remember. And he did not wish to.)

Hands came to rest on his shoulders, and steadily, reluctantly, Albus was turned to face the source of both his greatest regret and his greatest joy. Thumbs swept gently across his eyelids, pressing them lightly, urging at him to open his eyes.

Slowly, Albus did, not certain if the sight of Gellert’s face alone would be enough to make him weep. He blinked, and there Gellert was, flesh and bone, not a reflection he could not touch or speak to. His white hair fell in small curls across his high cheekbones, framing his mismatched eyes that shone from his pale skin like two gemstones. There was a smile on his face, just a slight lift of his lips. Cautious, but resembling the one Albus had been graced with in happier times.

Albus smiled in return. He wondered if it looked as broken as he felt, standing there in front of a man who had caused the world great pain, knowing it, and desiring him still.

Gellert's hands slid down his cheeks, down his arms, coming to grasp Albus' hands in between his, his fingers sliding almost proprietarily across the scar on Albus' palm, making the skin tingle in their wake. Gellert's eyes flickered from their hands to his face.

"May I ask you what brings you here?"

Albus looked down as well, uncertain of what to say; how to explain his behaviour when it did not make sense even to himself. Jealousy. That was the only answer Albus could come up with, and it was not one he was willing to share. He felt foolish even thinking it. Gellert was not his. Had not been for years. And Albus knew very well he used his charm carelessly to get what he wanted. It had gotten him Albus, after all. Feeling more foolish than ever, Albus withdrew his hands from Gellert's grasp. His hands felt empty, and he quickly slid them into the pockets of his robes.

"I should not have come," he said quietly, turning to leave.

Before he could, a hand reached out to grasp him. It felt like a vice. Gellert turned him around roughly, and he gave a small wince. The hand loosened its hold.

Gellert's eyes were blazing, but his voice was quiet as he asked, "Please, mein Lieber. Why are you here?"

Albus closed his eyes at the endearment, feeling conflicted. He hated the power those words held over him, and simultaneously he craved it. Craved that feeling he had felt back in that summer, the heady passion of first, pubescent love blooming, the ache that he felt in his chest every time he looked at Gellert.

Sighing, he said, "I do not know." Gellert remained silent for once, letting him gather his thoughts. "It was a momentary impulse. I just needed to see- "

"Yes?" Gellert breathed in the air between them, his voice barely stronger than the wind.

"I- I needed to see you," Albus admitted, his voice equally quiet, the shame of admission weighing on him like an anchor in his chest. From the corner of his eye, he could see Gellert's lips lifting into a smile. The hands trailed down Albus' arms again in a slow caress.

"I see," Gellert said, and although his voice sounded nonchalant, Albus could hear how pleased he was. "Anything particular that prompted this impulse?"

For a moment, Albus thought of asking him, What is that boy to you? but he swallowed the question down like pieces of broken glass. Gellert had received enough victory today, without Albus giving him more with his childish jealousy. And he wasn't certain if he could bear the answer, for each answer Gellert could give was equally horrible, if for different reasons. 

Instead, Albus leaned forward to kiss him. Albus knew that Gellert could see it for the ploy it was, but he was counting on him playing along with their game. Gellert had already received his victory today. Albus was allowed leeway.

Gellert's lips were chapped slightly, and the tickle of his moustache against Albus was a new sensation. The way their lips fit together had changed; Gellert was taller now, equal in height to Albus, so no longer did Albus have to bend down to meet them. The touches were slow and deliberate, careful and controlled when in their youth their passion had been unrestrained, sometimes bordering on clumsy. Albus carefully tried not to think of how many lips Gellert had touched since then. His only experience had been a sad drunken snog behind a cottage in Hogsmeade that he had regretted as soon as it had happened and had tried not to think of since. Gellert’s hand slid into his hair and Albus tried not to think of who else those hands had touched; how many others Gellert had charmed into his bed. Gellert bit his lip gently, and Albus opened his mouth, allowing him to slide in his tongue. Gellert hummed, and the vibrations travelled through Albus' body, making him gasp. That, at least, was familiar. He had missed it. The way Gellert's hums reverberated from his chest to Albus, from his mouth to his, the way it made him feel-

With a gasp, Albus wrestled his lips from Gellert's. At some point, he had ended up pressed against the large stone wall to their left, and Gellert's hands had wandered to his hair, holding him tightly in place as the other had snuck beneath his robes to grasp at his hip. His own hands were buried beneath Gellert's cloak, wrapping tightly around his waist.

Closing his eyes, Albus lowered his forehead into Gellert's, listening to their heavy breathing. His heart was pounding rapidly in his chest, his legs shaking with tremors as arousal build between his legs. It felt tempting to just let it continue; to allow himself to be taken against the rocks, letting the stone carve marks of ownership on his flesh in bruises that would result. Or perhaps he could push Gellert onto the ground, straddle him and mark his skin so anyone who saw him bare would know what he had been doing, would know that Gellert did not belong solely to them. 

But shame, his constant companion, was slowly creeping back in. Those hands that were touching him so gently, they had ruined families, they had killed more people than Albus dared to count, people he knew and people he had not, and they would continue to do so. (She had been wearing their mother's blue dress that day; at fourteen already tall enough to fill it. In her hair had been braided pale blue flowers, the colour of the sky in summer. Leta, who carried the same shame as him, and whose last words had been of love. Aurors, whose families Albus knew, whose children he had taught.) Sliding his hands to Gellert's, he pulled them away and placed them between them. He held them for a moment, examining the new wrinkles that had replaced the smoothness of youth.

"I have to go," he said quietly. Gellert looked at him from a moment, the look in his eyes impenetrable, his hand coming to brush Albus' hair back into place before he stepped back.

Breathing easier, Albus stepped past him, adjusting his robes.

"I look forward to seeing you again," Gellert murmured.

Albus paused. "It will be the last time."

"Perhaps."

Two steps further.

“I missed you as well.”

Albus’ steps faltered. Admission and bait at one. A gift given for the victory Albus had granted him.

Closing his eyes, resisting the urge to look back, Albus spun on the spot and left Gellert behind, standing on the rocky hills above his solitary fortress.

[ultrahpfan5blog]

Rewatching the HP and FB movies

I have a tradition of rewatching HP movies at least once a year. This year, I added the two FB movies as well. I know lots of people have well deserved issues with a lot of thing with the franchise and I do too, but I still thoroughly enjoy the movies. All of them. Certainly there are some big issues I have, like how Kloves treated Ron starting from GOF onwards, and how Hermione kind of became a mary sue, and definitely some of the things that were added or removed, like the removal of some of the Riddle memories in HBP, removing the pretty fascinating Dumbledore backstory in Deathly Hallows, the silly inconsistencies like polyjuice not changing the voice of the characters etc... But in general, I still think the movies did a great job capturing the spirit of the books and the casting was just incredible. Especially the adult casting. I know we have only seen one version of Harry Potter on the big screen, but I envision these actors, especially the adults, when I’m reading the books now. Alan Rickman, Maggie Smith, Robbie Coltraine, Mark Williams, Julie Walters etc... are now the faces I see when I think of those characters. Richard Harris was a terrific Dumbledore for the first two movies, where he had more of grandfatherly, twinkling, vibe. I know people are critical of Gambon in GOF and he admittedly did get the characterization wrong, but I feel he was excellent in POA, OOTP, and especially HBP. Alan Rickman was just so outstanding in the role of Snape. I genuinely feel he should have gotten some Oscar consideration for his performance in DH2. But he was incredible even when he had only a few scenes and had to be super dry in his dialogue delivery. Maggie Smith was similarly wonderful. But these were just the adult regulars, but equally incredible were the phenomenal actors who came for just a few films. There are so many. Gary Oldman, David Thewlis, Imelda Staunton, Helena Bonham Carter, Brendan Gleeson, Ralph Fiennes, Jason Isaacs, Emma Thompson, Jim Broadbent etc... among many others. A lot of these actors only had a film or two where they had a significant presence, but they showed up in cameos in other films, particularly in DH2. I have a lot of respect for the casting directors for this franchise since they cast basically half of all of British’s well respected acting thespians. Even someone like Bill Nighy appeared, just for two scenes in DH1. Rhys Ifans came in DH1 and was terrific in the two scenes he was in. Ciaran Hinds also was in just one or two scenes and he was also very good. And all these actors felt like they gave it their all and that it wasn’t just a paycheck role.

When it comes to child casting, what strikes me is the amazing continuity the series kept. Its one thing to be able to keep the core child actors like Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson, and Tom Felton, but one of the most satisfying aspects of the series is that a lot of the core group of side characters were continuously played by the same actors. Not just Matthew Lewis and Bonnie Wright  and the Phelps brothers, but also Alfred Enoch as Dean, Devon Murray as Seamus, and Joshua Herdman as Goyle. It would be very easy to replace some of these side characters over time and no one would notice, but the continuity makes it so much more enjoyable when in DH2 Seamus helps Neville blow up a bridge based on the fact that we know Seamus from the first movie was known for blowing stuff up. Its the small things that make it so great. Possibly the most accurate bit of casting was Evana Lynch as Luna. I honestly can’t think of a single actor more perfectly cast in the series than her. The core quartet were all lovely. Not always consistent, but more than good enough. I actually think Dan was the weakest actor when the series started, but he made remarkable improvement in the back half of the series, especially OOTP onwards. He is outstanding in DH2 I thought. Tom Felton didn’t always have to do much until HBP, but he was excellent in HBP. He does seem to have been stereotyped a little in the other roles I’ve seen him in but it still means he was great. Emma Watson’s performance fluctuated a bit. She was very good as a kid, then she was kind of bad in GOF and in parts of OOTP, but she found her footing again in HBP and especially in DH1, which I still consider to be her best acting performance to date. I think Rupert was always the most natural actor of the lot. He was probably the most hard done by the Kloves because they kind of typecast him as the comedic sidekick, but I can’t fault Rupert because he was a pretty gifted comic. Like Emma, when he got more scope in DH1, he did an incredible job. I would say Bonnie Wright is maybe the only one who didn’t fully grow into the role for me. It probably has a lot to do with writing, but she also really didn’t share any chemistry with Dan which made that relationship feel pretty flat and forced. But all in all the casting really made these movies and they elevate the movies significantly. But I admit all the craft behind it. Also, some of these movies are close to two decades old and the effects hold up quite well. I think there are scenes in the first movie that look a little dated, particularly the flying scenes, but subsequent movies seemed to find the right blend of practical and visual effects to make the movies look pretty timeless. 

I think all the directors did their job really well. Columbus did a good job of bringing the childlike wonder of the initial books to life, Cuaron brought his more adult quality as the kids grew up, Newell ramped up the scale and the scope, and Yates managed to bring home the darkness. Definitely the films weren’t flawless. Like I mentioned before, there were times when some characterizations were off, some key subplots were eliminated or not handled well, some things added which were not needed etc... but the spirit of the books remains. I have a deep fondness for the movies as I feel I grew up with them as I am basically the same age as all the main child actors in the movie so I grew up and watched them grow up. So while they aren’t in the league of greatest films of all time, but its a remarkably consistent and enjoyable franchise that lasted an entire decade.

When it comes to Fantastic Beasts series, I was excited that Yates and Rowling were developing something new but I also feared what would happen given they didn’t have the structure of a book series to guide them. The fears ended up being fairly valid. The first FB is a pretty enjoyable film. I do think they did a good job creating a likable quartet of main characters and the actors all did a pretty remarkable job. It was also a refreshing change to watch Magical World from an adult POV as well as experiencing a new location and time period as well. The issue with the first film is that the film has two separate storylines which don’t really merge well together. The story of Newt, Jacob, Tina, and Queenie finding and recapturing the suitcase of magical creatures is actually very charming. The film does a nice job of creating some unique magical creatures and adding something new to the Magical World, but then there is a dark and gloomy second plot which doesn’t work as well because it essentially isn’t much of a story other than just showing Credence being abused and manipulated time and time again until the climax. It neither merges well tonally, nor plot wise. The way they try to put Newt at the center of the climax felt very clumsy and unearned. Overall, the first film still has sufficient enjoyable charm and I certainly like Redmayne, Waterston, Fogol, and Sudol. Farrell was a damn good villain. Miller was a little too mannered for my taste but I understand what he was going for. Voight is there for no reason at all in a perplexing subplot that goes nowhere. But still, more positives than negatives. FB2 is where the franchise really dropped the ball for the first time and Rowling’s inexperience as a movie screenplay writer became very obvious. The film is literally a setup for future movie, designed to get characters into certain places where the real story can start. the film essentially has no plot other than a bunch of wizards across Europe are looking for Credence and Credence is searching for his identity. There is really nothing else in the movie. The movie is overpopulated with characters, and Newt ends up even more incidental in this movie since he has no interest in going after Credence himself at all for 2/3 of the movie. All the things that were good about the first movie are lost as Jacob and Queenie only share two scenes together, Tina and Newt only share the last act or so together, Newt and Jacob end up only have a couple of scenes together. Its all rather boring and dull. The performances are fine. Depp was a good enough Grindelwald but I don’t think he was given any more to do other than just be surface level evil. One of the most inspired casting decisions was Jude Law as Dumbledore. While he doesn’t ape Gambon or Harris, he does capture the twinkling spirit of Dumbledore and his scenes are the best. The film also has a rather odd plot concerning Leta Lestrange. It is simultaneously important and completely pointless at the same time. I felt that the character had a compelling backstory and interesting potential but the film barely has time to address it any sort of depth before she gets pointlessly killed off at the end. The film also does a pretty bizarre character assassination of Queenie who makes decision that I really don’t understand. I guess this all boils down to the fact that this story may have worked in Rowling’s head as a book where each character’s internal thought could have been given more depth but what happens is that pretty much every sub story is pretty unsatisfying. Its certainly not an unwatchable disaster, just rather dull and devoid of the spark that the wizarding world movies should have. I hope they can turn things around because the film leaves things at a very peculiar juncture which doesn’t make much sense based on what we know of the HP canon.

[albinokittens300]

A Moment Longer

Summery: Newt and Tina are given few more moments alone in the French Ministry of Magics Archive Room. 

Rating: Strong PG/K- mentions of passionate kissing. 

Ship: Newtina (AU, Canon Divergent for Crimes of Grindelwald)

A/N- YAY! This is just a little one-shot or Drabble thing based on a peiece of LOVELY fanart. I know I saw it here on Tumblr. It is Newt and Tina kissing in the Archive room, and I couldn’t help but write what would of happed if Leta had been just a few minutes later. Please, if this is your fanart or if you know whose it is, please tell me so I can credit them! Because sadly I cannot find it at the moment. For now, enjoy :). 

“-Salamanders.” Tina finishes for him, knowingly.

His eyes almost go comically wide when the word stops his struggle short. Newt supposes most others might find it bothersome for someone to finish their sentences. But his heart beats in double time as Tina does. It was a feeling he had never had before, to be so understood by someone. For all his life Newt felt he was speaking a foreign language all his own. When he met Tina, his heart seemed to know she could speak this language with him.

Never could he have hoped someone would relate to him the way Tina did. Much less, someone so brave, kind and strong. Among so many things he had used to describe the wonderful and amazing Tina Goldstein.

Oh, how Newt missed her. Just in the past month or so, when her letters abruptly stopped, the world felt so alone and distant without her. Without the comfort and understanding, he found in her, the connection they had. It drove him here, to Paris. Even if she wanted nothing to do with him, Newt couldn’t think to stand the thought that Tina might accept he felt anything short of adoration for her

Now, he sees the smile paint her face a half second after she reads his heart and realizes that not only did she understand, but was flattered by his sentiment as well.

What poses him to lean forward to kiss her, Newt isn’t sure. Something about the idea of going another moment with her having any doubt about his feelings for her was unthinkable.  Alone, and with her beaming at him, something fell into place for a rush of bravery and he slowly moved to press his lips to her. Tina seemed to pick up on this just as fast as his complement earlier, as she leaned in so their lips met in the middle.

The kiss filled him with warmth and a light-headed feeling. Making his slitted eyes flutter close in bliss. Her lips were soft, and pleasant against his. For a moment, the dance between their lips stays chaste for the most part. But Newt loses any attempt at keeping distance when Tina begins to deepen the kiss, helpless to do anything but respond in equal measure. Then their arms find their place to hold one another close around the waist.

Breaking away for air, their grins seemed to have widened and Newt gives a breathless laugh. Resting her forehead on Tina’s.

Both of them seem to be needy for more, though. Newt decides not to blame himself much, after not being this close to her so long. Just as they lean in for a second kiss, there is a rhythmic clicking sound echoing in the hall behind them. High heels against the marble floors.

Tina tugs on his hand, and he wordlessly follows her into the stacks of archives. The grins still lingering on their faces.

[boywizardscanbecute]

A Second Chance

Hey guys! Here’s my first Theseus fic, I think it’s pretty good! Anyways enjoy and please leave feedback!

Requested by: @bowtrucklescamander​: Can you do a Theseus imagine where something happens and he becomes protective of the reader. 

Word count: 14,000 I took the idea and ran with it! Enjoy :) 

Theseus x reader imagine: post CoG by a couple weeks, with the minor change of Leta not having ever been Theseus’s fiance, though she works for the ministry and does still die for Newt. Newt is soon to begin a position in the beasts division while Tina hangs around, recruited by the ministry to help the other aurors (and helping Newt move on from Leta.) You recently moved from America, having been an auror there alongside Tina, meeting her when she was reinstated and therefore having only ever heard about Newt by first name. (Girl power!!) but made the permanent move for a change of scenery, now that your best friend was no longer in America. You are under the impression that she is still in Paris, searching for the remainder of Grindelwald’s followers.

    Your alarm rang through your head, jolting you from your sleep. “Ughh,” you groan and turn off your alarm. Nervousness settled in your chest. The first day of a job was always nervous, but this one especially so. You were the first female auror hired by the British Ministry of Magic. As a result you felt loads of pressure to perform well. More than anything you wanted to show that women should be considered equal to men. In America, they had loads of women aurors, but in Britain, they were a little misogynistic. You dressed smart for your position, placing yourself in a black pants suit with navy blue blouse underneath. Makeup had never been your thing, but you forced on some mascara and cleaned up your eyebrows. The slightest hint of pink lipstick completed the look on your face. Your mother had convinced you to cut your hair, telling you that long hair wasn’t in style anymore. But you couldn’t say goodbye to all of it so you cut it right above your shoulders. Parting it to one side, you pull on some nude heels and depart for the ministry. 

    Arriving at the ministry, you head straight for the aurors office. Walking up to the secretary’s desk you clear your throat. “May I help you?” she asks in an extremely chipper voice. It annoys you for some reason. Placing a fake smile on your face you reply, “Yes I’m here to meet with Mr. Scamander.” She lifts her eyebrows in surprise. “And the purpose for this meeting?” she snoops. You blush slightly, “It’s my first day. As an auror.” The girl jumps from her seat. “You must be y/n,” she squeals, “Mr. Scamander is expecting you. Please follow me!” Her excitement scared you. Word must have gotten around that you were the first female auror to have a permanent position at the Ministry of Magic. The only other females you knew of where a select few American aurors that came in and out on missions. The secretary’s heels clacked against the marble floor and you began to scrutinize her outfit. You thought to yourself that it was a bit inappropriate. Her pencil skirt was awfully short and the blouse she wore, while it had long sleeves, was cut extremely low to reveal the tops of her perky breasts. She stopped in front of another door. Knocking, a voice came from inside. “Enter,” a male voice called. She opened the door and let you step inside first. “Good morning Mr. Scamander,” she cooed. The man looked up from his desk and it bothered you to see his look of seduction at the secretary. He clearly thought she was attractive. Standing and moving from behind his desk, he towered over the young girl and flashed a winning smile at her. “Good morning Rebecca how are you?” his voice replied. You stood silently behind them, too disgusted to interrupt. “Great he’s a womanizer,” you thought to yourself. She giggled, “I’m doing just fine Mr. Scamander.” A silence passes as they gaze at each other. Reluctantly, you let out a loud cough. Shaking her head, Rebecca blushes, “Mr. Scamander this is y/n l/n, reporting for her first day on the job.” Mr. Scamander turns his gaze on you. He studies you thoughtfully and you feel yourself want to shrink and hide under his gaze. But you stand your ground, feeling like you have something to prove for all women, you stare back. “Thank you Rebecca you may go,” he says absentmindedly as he steps forward to shake your hand. She gazes at him longingly before leaving his office. You shake his hand, trying to push the nervousness to the back of your mind. “I’m Theseus. Theseus Scamander, head auror,” he flashes the same flirty smile at you, which instantly irritates you. Ignoring it you reply, “I’m y/n l/n.” Dropping your hand he leans back against his desk and chuckles, “I know.” You raise an eyebrow in question. Curiosity gets the better of you and you ask, “So are you the one who decided to hire me then?” He replies, “Yes I was.” No emotion could be read on your face, but inside your chest falls. So he just wanted another pretty face around. Suddenly you blurt out, “So why did you hire me?” He laughs again, but you cross your arms, waiting for an answer. Composing himself he replies, “You came highly recommended by multiple people.” Intrigued you continue, “Who?” He indulges your banter replying, “Well, President Piquery for one, as well as Percival Graves. But it wasn’t until I got a statement from someone who’s actually worked with you that I decided to hire you.” You search your brain for who could have possibly told him to hire you, that you also happened to work with back in New York. “Who might that be?” you asked. He answers, “Another auror. Porpentina, I believe she goes by Tina as it were, Tina Goldstein.” Your breath hitches in your throat. Tina hadn’t written to you in forever, not since she first arrived in Paris. “And Tina… is she…. Is she alive?” your voice spoke barely louder than a whisper. Theseus studied you, and you thought you saw a flicker of concern on his face, but it disappeared quickly. “Yes she’s alive. She was essential in breaking up the Grindelwald rally,” he replies. You briefly beam with pride at the mention of your friend’s great work. Theseus moves to go behind his desk as you whisper, “Is she here? In London?” Theseus sits at his desk and motions for you to sit across from him. After a beat he clears his throat, “Yes, she is. After certain events transpired that night, she decided to stay and help the ministry as well as help a close friend with grieving. I think she’s staying with him at the moment.” The pieces click together in your mind. “Newt,” you mutter under your breath. “Pardon?” Theseus eyes you in surprise. You shake your head, “Oh nothing I just was saying I think I know who she’s staying with. If it’s a close friend like you say it must be Newt.” His eyes widened in surprise, “You know Newt?” You didn’t know him personally, but it seemed Theseus did. Continuing on you say, “No I don’t know him personally, but I’ve heard of him. He unleashed a case of creatures on New York City, wreaking havoc. I never had the pleasure of meeting him, I was on assignment from the president in Italy. And besides Tina used to gush about him in her letters. About him and some book he wrote.” Theseus looks perplexed. He strokes his chin, lost in thought. Eyes wandering to his desk you see said book. Without asking permission you pick up the book, “This is it. Yes, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them,” your eyes wander to the author’s name, “By Newt……… Scamander?” your voice raises, posing the question you already know the answer to. Theseus sighs, “He’s my brother.” “Oh,” you gasp in surprise. Silence fills the room. It was hard to wrap your head around, if you were being honest. Your best friend was in love with your boss’s brother. It then occurred to you that you had basically just questioned your boss as if he wasn’t your superior. Blush immediately rose to your cheeks and you felt the sudden urge to feign ill and rush home.

    Theseus clears his throat at you, suddenly impatient. “Sorry, I got distracted,” you rush an apology. Theseus shakes off your apology instead turning to some paperwork. “Let’s go over your paperwork. We’re already behind as it is,” he states. “Sorry, again,” you urge. He ignores your apology. Looking over your paperwork he says, “I’m just going to ask you a couple questions to make sure this is all right.” You nod. “Full name y/n l/n. Graduated from Ilvermorny house of y/h class of 1920. Is that right?” “Yes, that’s right,” you answer. He gulps, “So that makes you what, 24?” “Yes I’m 24,” you reply. He doesn’t hide his surprise. “You know you’re almost the youngest auror we’ve ever hired. Almost that is,” he comments. “Who was the youngest hire?” you ask, curious. Theseus blushes, “Well that would be me.” You have a sudden urge to ask when he was hired, eager to find out his age. He looked so young, but he had to be at least 30. “What an accomplishment,” you comment. He nods and continues, “Wand made of Rowan wood, 13 ½ inches, with unicorn hair as the core is that correct?” You nod wordlessly. “Well y/n, that’s all the information I need. Your office is across the hall 2 doors down on the left. I believe the files with your first assignment are already on your desk. If you have any questions feel free to let Rebecca know,” he gestures to the door, his demeanor suddenly cold. Managing to hide your surprise you croak suddenly confused, “Of course. Thank you Mr. Scamander.” Turning, you head to your new office. Behind you, Theseus watches your figure retreat, a feeling blooming in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

    Entering your new office you sigh, confusion clouding your mind. So your boss was your best friend’s potential lover’s brother. And he was insanely hot. This posed a problem. Any encounters outside of work and you knew you would fall victim to his charms, just like you did with the real Percival Graves. Sighing, you plop into your desk chair and set your briefcase on your desk. The emptiness of the office was sad. The walls were bare and a ghastly green color that made you want to vomit. Flicking your wand, you change the color to a soft warm red. The only thing you had to mark the office as your own was a small picture frame. In it was a close up of you, Tina, and Tina’s sister Queenie. Smiling with wrinkled noses, the three of you laughed into the camera. It was easy to recall that night, it was the first time they invited you over. Tina gushed about Newt and Queenie about Jacob, though there was a sadness to both of them now that the two men were gone. However, you’d returned from your assignment in Italy too late to meet them. So like any normal Friday night, the three of you got drunk off of fire whiskey, celebrating Tina’s reinstatement as an auror. When Tina was reinstated she was introduced to you and you immediately became friends, wishing you’d met long before then. You made a mental note to find Tina later and ask her about Queenie. One Goldstein sister in this strange new land would be amazing, but two would be even better. You longed to see your friends again, they were whisked away to Europe so quickly after you became friends, the sorrow welled in your chest, thinking about how alone you felt after they left.

    Setting the frame down, you turn to the file that sits on the otherwise empty desk. Flicking it open, you read the information. It was a summary of the rally at Paris. It listed the traitors that had gone over to Grindelwald’s side, and you purposefully committed the names to memory. Casualties were listed, including a former ministry worker named Leta Lestrange. None of the names you recognized. Until you happened upon the mention of Credence. The paper objectively read that the obscurial hunted had crossed over to Grindelwald’s side. A wave of emotion hit you as you felt immense sympathy for the boy. Tina told you all about him. And you knew how much it must have hurt her to see him go to Grindelwald when she tried so hard to save him. Swallowing your emotion, you flipped the page. The first assignment laid before you. It seemed easy enough. Given the name of one of the traitors, you were assigned to go and sweep their apartment, searching for anything to track them with. Sighing, you pull on your green overcoat and leave, disapparating.

    You appeared in a small apartment, and to your shock it was completely empty. “Smart guy,” you hiss under your breath. They had swept their own apartment, leaving no trace. Pacing across the wooden floor you mutter possibilities under your breath. “So if they swept the apartment…. They must have known they would switch sides. So they could have been a spy. They didn’t make an impulse decision like the other aurors who switched over when the other option was only death,” you rambled to yourself. Scanning the room, you can confirm it is void of any trace of inhabitants. “This means there could be more spies in the ministry!” you shout to no one but yourself. Reopening your assignment, you look to the next person on your list. Biting your lip, you go to your next location.

    This home was not empty, in fact it was the opposite. There was mess everywhere. There were tiny scraps of paper littered everywhere. “Papyrus reparo,” you wave your wand. The scraps come together and land in your hand. It was a postcard. It was from Paris, the eiffel tower glittering on the front. Turning it over, the words stare out at you. “The boy is convinced. Phase III commences. Meeting commences at the next location.” Gasping, you turn it over again, searching for anything else to give you a hint. No matter what, this was clearly from Grindelwald. Without a second thought, you disapparate.

Reappearing inside the ministry, you bang your fist on Theseus’s door. There’s no answer. You bang your fist against the wood again. You’re about to open the door, when Theseus opens it from the inside. As a result you stumble in the door, nearly falling over. Theseus catches you by your forearms, wrapping his large hands around them, stopping your fall. Straightening up you mutter, “Thanks.” After a moment he realizes he’s still touching you and hastily removes his hands. He walks back to his desk, letting you follow. “What is so urgent?” he says sitting down, unable to hide the annoyance in his voice. “I found something,” you blurt out. This catches his attention. “Well what is it?” he implores you. Hastily, you pull the post card from your pocket and hand it to him. He flips it over and reads the message. Then he flips the card over again, brows furrowed in concentration. He absentmindedly runs a hand through his auburn curls, yanking on the loose strands. “This refers to Credence,” he lets the statement hang in the air. “It does,” you reply. Running a hand over his face he sighs, “I wonder where the next location is?” You ponder the question yourself. For a moment, he forgets that you’re sitting there and he lets the worry show on his face. The poor man had bloodshot eyes and looked as if he hadn’t slept in months. Paired with that was large purple bags that sat underneath his eyes. Still unsure of his age, you did notice the wrinkles engraved in his forehead from constantly worrying no doubt. He bit down on his bottom lip and you couldn’t help but notice how chewed up it was. “Mr. Scamander,” your voice pulled him from his worried state. “Oh, awfully sorry y/n. Got lost in thought I suppose,” he says sincerely. A pang of sympathy washes over you and your voice grows soft, “It’s okay. You have a lot to think about I’m sure, as head of the department.” He nods, wincing at his title. “Did I say something?” you ask, concern evident in your voice. He shakes his head, “You didn’t do anything wrong. The pressure of my position just gets to me sometimes is all. I hardly think I’m qualified for this position.” You scoff, “Mr. Scamander, they wouldn’t have made you head of the department just for nothing! I’m sure you’re plenty qualified.” He laughs, the sarcasm evident in his voice. “Everyone knows the real reason they promoted me,” he criticizes himself. “Because you’re good at your job?” you question. He looks up at you, his blue eyes hitting you for the first time, and you bite back a gasp. They were immensely beautiful, making him all the more attractive. “You mean you really don’t know?” he questions. “Know what?” you shoot back. He shakes his head, “Nevermind, it doesn’t matter now. Anyways, this is great work y/n, I mean Ms. l/n.” You smile at how flustered he is. “You can call me y/n. That’s okay with me,” you tell him. He smiles, gazing at your own e/c eyes for perhaps a moment longer than appropriate. Clearing his throat, something he did a lot, he says, “Well great work today y/n. You can go now.” Standing to leave, you stop at the door. “Mr. Scamander?” He looks up at you. “Call me Theseus,” he grins at you. In the grin you can see a glimpse of a once carefree boy, with the same goofy grin. You nod, “Theseus. Do you think you could tell me where Newt lives? I need to visit Tina.” He stands and moves out from behind his desk. “Unfortunately, I can’t divulge an address on paper. Newt made quite the enemy out of himself to Grindelwald, and I want to keep my little brother safe.” You nod, and your face falls. Seeing Tina would have to wait. Turning to go he calls out, “Wait! I can’t tell you, but I’ll take you there if you want?” You nod eagerly. “I’ll have to come back to the office, loads of work to do, but I’d be happy to take you now if you like?” he offers his arm to you. “Thank you Theseus,” you say gratefully, flashing him a rare smile on your part. He returns the smile and you loop your arm in his, disapparating on the spot.

Reappearing in a tiny London apartment, Theseus drops your arm. “Newt!” he calls out, strolling around the room. There’s no answer. He shouts again, “Newt! It’s Theseus! You’ve got a visitor!” There’s a rumbling from behind the coffee table and you yelp as a freckled, ginger haired man with tousled locks hanging in his eyes steps out of a suitcase! Theseus bites back a chuckle at your reaction. Newt steps over to his brother, offering a brief hug. “And who is this?” Newt asks. Theseus replies, “This is y/n l/n. The first permanent female auror for the British Ministry of Magic.” Newt’s eyes widen in surprise. He immediately trips over his words, “Y/n you worked with Tina right? Oh she’ll be so happy to see you let me just get her…” His feet walk back over to the case and he knocks on the lid three times. Theseus stands idly by. Newt returns to stand in front of you and finally shakes your hand. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name,” you tell him. He raises his eyebrows in question. Chuckling you add, “Tina wrote a lot of letters about you. She talked endlessly about you and about-” You’re cut off by a large squeal. “Y/n!” Tina’s petite frame comes barrelling towards you. She wraps you in a tight hug and you hug her back, heart full to be in the presence of your best friend again. “What are you doing here?” she asks eagerly. You answer, “Well work got pretty boring without you, you know. And I missed you and with everything that’s been happening I know help was needed here more so than in America. So then I applied for this auror position and now I’m the first female auror of the British Ministry and you hadn’t wrote me back so I didn’t know what happened and I was worried and-” she cuts you off again, hugging you once more. You hugged for at least a minute while both Newt and Theseus stood, looking anywhere but at the two of you. Finally, you pull back and study your friend. “So you’re okay?” you ask concerned. She nods, “I’m okay, I promise.” You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. It’s then that a cough comes from by the couch. It was Theseus. Turning you blurt, “Oh geez Theseus I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you from work.” He brushes off your apology, “It’s fine y/n. I could use a break anyway. But I best be getting back. See you tomorrow?” You nod. Another look lingers a second longer than normal between the two of you. You were helpless to his piercing blue eyes, they were easy to get lost in. Breaking your gaze, you look down and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Bye Theseus,” you mutter. He also looks away, blush creeping onto his face. “Bye y/n,” he barely finishes the statement before disapparating.

When he leaves, you turn to Tina and Newt. “How about some dinner?” you grin. They both nod eagerly. The two of them sit at the kitchen table, like two peas in a pod as you cook a wonderful pot roast. Newt speaks up, “Did Tina really write about me in her letters to you?” he can’t hide his grin. Tina, on the other hand, looks absolutely mortified. “Y/n!” she swats at you with her hand. You laugh, “Sorry Teeny I figured he would know by now.” Tina blushes and averts her gaze from Newt’s, who looks at her adoringly. Soon enough you deliver dinner to the table and everyone digs in. Something digs at you, something that’s not quite right, but then it hits you. “Teeny, where’s Queenie?” you ask. As soon as the question leaves your mouth, Tina drops her fork and it clatters to the ground. Newt picks it up. Hesitating, he rests a hand on Tina’s back, rubbing soothing circles on it. Tina tries to speak, but all that comes out is a strangled cry. Now you were really concerned. Newt speaks up, “That night, at Grindelwald’s rally, something happened.” You look from him to Tina and it pains you to see the tears on Tina’s cheeks. Newt continues, “Queenie and Jacob had a fight. She wanted to get married and Jacob was more concerned with her safety. Somehow Grindelwald got to her. That night, she switched sides.” A crash of shock rocks your body. “What?” your voice squeaks. Newt gulps, “She went with Grindelwald. Along with Credence.” Tina wept silently and let Newt comfort her, as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. You stare at the table, unable to compose any thoughts for several minutes. Queenie was gone. She was just gone. Soon enough the tears hit you as well. Sobbing, you choke out, “I’m so sorry Teeny. I had no idea.” She nods wordlessly. No one touches the food anymore. With a swish of your wand, you clear the table. Tina gets up and leaves. Silence passes between you and Newt, the only ones in the room.

“So where’s Jacob?” you ask Newt. Tina was busying herself in his case, feeding the creatures dinner. While Newt was slightly awkward, it was clear how much he cared for your friend, and you found him very sweet. Newt sighs, “Jacob is staying with us as well. He’s asleep in the room we share right now. All he does is sleep now.” You mindlessly comment, “He’s heartbroken.” Newt nods. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence. “I’m glad Tina met you Newt,” you tell him. At the mention of the elder Goldstein he smiles goofily. “I’m glad I met her myself. Wouldn’t be the same without her,” he says dreamily. You continue on, “So are you two… like dating?” Newt immediately blushes profusely. He stutters, “I don’t think so. Not yet. Tina needs time to heal. And frankly so do I.” The last part intrigues you. “Go on,” you tell him. He gulps, “The rally was…. A massacre. In the end, Tina and I, we made it out, but not everyone did.” He pauses, composing himself and continues, “In the end, Grindelwald singled me out. Theseus and I fought hard, but it wasn’t enough. In the end…. There was someone who sacrificed themselves to help us escape. Really to help me escape.” Your brain connected the dots as Newt trailed off, distraught with emotion. “Leta Lestrange,” you breath. Newt nods, staring at the ground. “Was she….” you weren’t sure how to ask the question. Mercifully, Newt seemed to understand you pretty well. So he answers the unspoken question, “No, we were never together like that. Back at Hogwarts, we were close friends. And I was in love with her then. But then I met Tina and she became the only one I thought about.” You nod. Newt twiddles his thumbs, thinking about what to say next. Finally he asks, “So what’s it like to work with my brother?” You laugh, “I’m not sure I can say yet. It was an interesting first day to say the least. But he seems stressed. He kept saying how he feels unqualified and overwhelmed with his position.” Newt nods knowingly, “Yes he does seem to get caught up in the reason he was offered the position.” Hearing Newt talk about the topic that you were still in the dark about made you eager. Sitting forward, resting your hands in between your knees you ask, “Why was he offered the position?” Newt eyes you in surprise, “You mean you don’t know?” You angrily huff, “No I don’t know. And no one will tell me. It’s quite frustrating.” Newt laughs but immediately stops when he sees the glare on your face. He stifles his amusement and tells you, “Theseus was offered the position because of his acts of heroism in World War I. I’m not sure about in America, but here he’s kind of famous for it.” You’re stunned into silence. Of all the reasons for him to be offered a position, that was not what you expected. “What did he do in the war?” you breath. Newt continues, “Theseus went against Minister Archer’s orders not to get involved. He had to work alone, but Theseus stopped 2 bombings in London. He saved tens of thousands of muggles lives.” You felt tears threatening to spill over onto your cheeks. “He did that?” you choke. Newt nods. Recovering from your momentary lapse of control of emotions you croak, “Why would he want to hide that?” Newt’s gaze lingers on your own, as he begins to question your emotions. Nevertheless he continues, “That’s all everyone ever sees when the look at Theseus. I know because most people still refer to me as the war hero’s younger brother. He beats himself up because he thinks he doesn’t deserve the position he’s in. He’s always wary because sometimes all people are ever after, especially women, are a chance to be with the war hero. He feels like he can’t trust anyone.” You watch Newt with intrigue, “How close are you and your brother?” Newt shrugs, “Until the rally, not close at all. I tried 5 times to get my travel permit and the deciding party denied me the votes, even Theseus. He wanted me to join the aurors. I didn’t realize then that I would have to choose a side. By the time I did, it was too late for some. Too late for Leta.” His words float around in your mind. Your next question was selfish, but you wanted to know the answer. “Did Theseus ever date Leta?” Newt has an awful lot of trouble hiding the smirk on his face as he answers, “No. They were just friends. But Leta was the assistant to the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. So they worked together a lot.” You stare at him, wordlessly pushing for more information. Newt presses on, “I think given time, maybe the could have been something. Either way I know for a fact that’s the first time he let a woman get close to him, as a friend even. So he’s probably a little scarred.” You nod. Smiling down at your feet, you think about just how cute Newt’s brother is. After a while you say, “You should go check on Tina. I need to be heading back to my place anyways.” Newt nods gratefully, as he makes his way towards his case to check on Tina. Before you depart you call out, “And Newt?” He turns to you. “How old is your brother?” your curiosity gets the best of you. Newt smiles, “Theseus is 38.” “Oh,” you nod. Newt waves goodbye and you disapparate back to your apartment. 14 years. The man was 14 years older than you. It didn’t make you any else attracted to him. Tossing and turning, you fall into a fitful sleep.

Unbeknownst to you, across London in his own home, Theseus lays in his bed, his mind wandering to you. He felt shameful for finding you attractive. You were 14 years younger than him. To even think about you in anything but a professional light made him want to tear out his eyeballs. But it was impossible for him not to notice your physical attributes, let alone your personality. You had the brightest e/c eyes that shine with innocence and a hint of mischief. Theseus liked your haircut and the way your bangs were just short enough that if you tuck them behind your ear they would fall in your face. He had to admit to himself that you could really wear a pantsuit and that you had the loveliest hips that swayed seductively when you walked. Groaning, Theseus turned over and stuffed a pillow over his face, trying to block out the thoughts of you. But he couldn’t ignore the hope blooming in his chest, at getting to see you tomorrow, and the next day, and everyday after that.

The next day you showed up at the ministry in yet another pantsuit. After seeing Theseus lust after that bimbo secretary you vowed to yourself never to wear a skirt to work. This suit was also black, the only difference in your appearance from yesterday was a red blouse instead of a blue one. Today was a busy day. Theseus had followed up with the postcard you found and delivered it to Travers, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. A new case file sat on your desk, courtesy of Theseus, though this one was five times thicker. Sighing, you pull off your leather overcoat and hang it on your coat rack. Flipping through the file, you gather your hair in a high ponytail on the top of your head, focusing on your work. The file was straight forward, the task was in a way simple. Since last night, Theseus had a lead on a ministry spy. The goal was to arrest him and take him in for questioning, though the subject in question was known to be temperamental. A knock echoes on the door of your office and you look up, seeing your best friend standing there. “Tina!” you exclaim, “Are you feeling better?” She nods, “Yes, I’m feeling loads better. I’m sorry, I was just a bit emotional.” She shuts the door and leans against it. Following suit, you lean against your desk. “Tina, it is perfectly understandable why you were emotional. You don’t need to apologize. But can I give you some advice?” She nods, waiting for your response. “Tina Newt cares for you a great deal. I had a really nice conversation with him. Don’t let his grief over Leta stop you from developing a relationship. He told me how much he cares for you.” Tina smiles at the mere mention of Newt’s name. “I think I’m falling in love,” Tina confesses. You smile and take her hands, ‘Trust me, he is too.” Tina grins like a fool. You reluctantly pull yourself from the happy moment saying, “Look I’m really sorry but I have to go see Theseus. Investigation and all.” Tina nods knowingly. Before you’re out of sight though she shouts, “Wait! I was going to go to the club with Newt tonight. We’re trying to get Jacob to go out. Will you please come with? All ministry employees go there on friday’s anyways.” She seemed so hopeful you couldn’t help but reply, “Sure, I’ll go.” Tina smiles, “ 8 O’clock!” she shouts as she departs in the opposite direction. Absentmindedly, you stick the pencil in your hand through your ponytail. Hesitating for only a moment, you knock on Theseus’s door, trying to ignore the nerves inside you.

Theseus invites you in and smiles at your entrance. “Y/n, how are you?” he asks. The pleasantries were nice, but the nicer Theseus was to you the more you dwelled on how much you liked him. So you reluctantly brush them aside saying, “Fine Theseus I’m fine. We should really get going though.” He briefly frowns, but hides it successfully. “What’s the plan?” you continue, getting ready to leave. Theseus sighs, “Well you see, Colin isn’t particularly fond of me. So you’re gonna bring him in. I’m just there for backup in case things go badly.” You nod. “Ready?” you step closer offering him your arm. It wasn’t until that moment that you realized how tall he was. He towered over you. Looking down at you, he answers your question by grabbing your hand and disapparating.

Colin was an auror who had suddenly taken a leave of absence. He was found wandering down the bridge near the river. Theseus and you appeared about 20 feet away. He leans down and whispers in your ear, “I’ll be by this bench, watching closely. If I see anything wrong I’m shutting it down.” You wordlessly nod, shocked into silence by the way Theseus’s lips brushed the shell of your ear. “Be safe,” he adds. It’s then that you turn around and look up at him. The emotion behind his blue eyes was hard to read, but you could plainly see his worry for you. You already had a different relationship with him, not boss- employee but more working like equals. In light of this you decide to reassure him and place a hand on his arm, looking him in the eyes. “I’ll be safe,” you tell him confidently. Turning, you walk away towards the target. Theseus watches you retreat, an intense need to follow filling him.

Colin was walking in your direction. It was possible he was waiting for a contact from Grindelwald. Nevertheless you approached, a plan quickly forming in your head. Conjuring a travel cup of coffee with your wand you walk straight towards him. Summoning a gust of wind, you briefly distract Colin so that he looks up. Pretending to be distracted yourself, you walk straight up each other, the coffee spilling all down your front. “Oh geez,” you curse under your breath. Colin immediately apologizes, “Oh gosh I am so so sorry. I didn’t mean to run into you and now I’ve ruined your lovely outfit I’m such a goof.” You pat at your top, attempting to dry the coffee. It’s then that Colin notices your ministry badge. You had forgotten to take it off. He immediately stops drying you and says, “You work for the ministry?” There was an edge to his voice. Struggling you answer too quickly, “What? Oh, yeah I-” he cuts you off, a glare forming in his eyes. Looking closer, he sees the label that says Auror. You fucked up and you knew it.You felt disappointed in yourself, the last thing you wanted was to fail Theseus on your 2nd day on the job. Wordlessly he gripped your wrist hard, pulling you back into him, wand to your throat. You bit back a yelp. Colin hisses in your ear, “Are there any other aurors following you?” You whisper, “No it’s just me.” You tried to convince yourself you could handle it. Your eyes traveled to Theseus who was watching the situation intently, slowly approaching. He looked scared, desperate. Theseus went unnoticed, but unfortunately he wasn’t close enough to get to you. Colin laughed evilly, “How unlucky for you.” He squeezed you tighter and disapparated. Moments before you cast a nonverbal spell, leaving a tracker for Theseus. As you disappear you see Theseus sprinting in your direction.

“Damnit!” Theseus curses, coming up to the spot you were taken. “Appare Vestigium,” Theseus casts a wide spell. He smiles when the tracker you left appears. “Smart girl,” he mutters. He picks up the tracker and disapparates, thinking of you.

You were roped up against a track, underground somewhere in the subway. Your wand was immediately taken away by Colin. Helpless, you murmured a silent prayer to the universe that you had thought to leave a tracker for Theseus. No sooner had you been tied up, than Theseus appeared around the corner. Colin stood in front of you. “Well, hate to run and go, but you’ve got a train to catch,” he laughs cynically. Theseus steps forward. “Awww if it isn’t the war hero, Theseus Scamander,” Colin doesn’t even turn around. Theseus shoots a spell at him, but it’s deflected. A train horn sounds in the distance. “Petrificus Totalus!” Colin bellows. Theseus deflects this, sending it back at his attacker. The train horn grows closer. You muttered countless nonverbals trying to summon your wand to you, but nothing was working. A light enters the tunnel and the train grows closer. Sweating profusely, you squirmed against your binds, but gasped when they burned your skin and got tighter. “Theseus please hurry,” you mutter to yourself. Straining with all your might, you pushed and pushed ignoring the painful blistering of your skin. The ropes were cursed to tighten and burn you the more you tried to escape. The flashes of curses blurred the side of your vision, the majority of your vision focused on the train now rapidly approaching. “Incarcerous!” Theseus spits. His attempt was successful, binding Colin with tight rope, forcing him to drop his wand as well as yours. Theseus jumps on the ground, grabbing your wand. “Y/n!” Theseus shouts desperately. There was no time for him to get to you. Instead he threw you your wand, allowing you to release yourself. And moments before the train overtook the track, you thought of Theseus and disapparated.

Theseus waited with baited breath. Suddenly, you reappeared in his arms, knocking him to the ground. Instinctively, he wrapped his two hands around your waist, catching you on top of him as you both hit the ground. With his hands still on your waist, you lifted your head up to look at him. “I’m so sorry,” you murmured, avoiding his piercing gaze. “What are you… never mind. Look, why don’t you head back to my office. Wait for me there. I’ll take care of Colin.” “Okay,” you whisper. Theseus was surprisingly strong and picked you up with his two hands on your torso, your feet briefly leaving the ground before he set you to stand up. A shiver ran down your spine as he brushed a lone finger against your cheek. “See you soon,” he says barely audible. You nod and disapparate to his office.

You seemed to wait for Theseus forever. Briefly you worried, but you instinctively knew that Theseus was able to handle himself. It was you who had gotten caught all because you had forgotten to put your badge away. You cursed yourself, thinking about how you were failing future women aurors. Tears pricked your cheeks as you became increasingly frustrated with yourself. “I deserve these burns,” you thought to yourself. Sitting on Theseus’s desk, you let the silent tears come, shaking in quiet fury at your ignorance. Losing track of time you jump up when the door opens. Hastily wiping your tears on the sleeve of your blazer you turn around to meet the deep blue eyes of Theseus Scamander. His expression was unreadable. Immediately, the guilt inside of you overflowed. “Theseus I am so sorry. I know I fucked up. This is all my fault and I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” you choked out the words, trying your hardest not to show evidence of crying. Wordlessly he stepped towards you. “I understand if you don’t want to work with me anymore I was so stupid-” he cuts you off, holding up one large hand. The same hand he wrapped protectively around your waist only an hour before. You shook yourself from the thought. He took a breath, “Please don’t apologize. I didn’t take off my badge either. It was bound to be a sticky situation from the start. Besides we caught him so no harm done.” He grabs your hands to continue reassuring you, but you yelp in pain pulling your arms back. Concern immediately spread across his face. “Y/n what’s wrong?” he asks. “Ummm nothing. I’ll be okay,” you say unconvincingly. He frowns and says, “No you’re not. What’s wrong with your hands?” Looking down you confess, “The ropes were enchanted. To prevent escape. And to burn me.” He bites the inside of his cheek, guilt flooding through his head about how he should have been the one to initiate the capture. “Can I see them please?” he quietly pleads with you. Finally, you slowly roll up the sleeves of your blazers. He bites back a gasp and you look up at him for the first time since he walked in the office. His blue eyes stared back into your own, they were watery with emotion. His hand gently holds yours, examining the burn. Gulping he tries to keep his voice level, “They’re only first degree. Shouldn’t leave any scars.” You listened to his voice as he continued, “Easily healable. If you would allow me?” He looks to you for permission. Permission to heal. Something that of course would be okay with you but the fact that he asked was simply so sweet. So you nod. Raising his wand, he passes it over the burns muttering, “Tergeo.” The blisters close up and your skin becomes smooth yet again. “There. All better,” he states, hands still lingering on your skin. “Thank you,” you whisper. After a moment, he reluctantly releases your hands from his own. Clearing your throat you finally ask, “Did you question him?” He replies, “I tried to. He won’t budge. We’ll have to use veritaserum.” Looking at the clock, you see it’s already 5. Theseus follows your gaze and says, “You can go if you have plans.” You shake your head, “I’m going to the club with Newt and Tina tonight. They’re trying to cheer up Jacob.” He nods but says nothing. Millions of thoughts race in your brain. Some say, “Invite him!” while others say, “He’s your boss and he’s 14 years older than you, don’t do it!” You take the irrational route. Theseus has now seated himself, and he sits looking over various paperwork. “Theseus you should come with,” you state firmly. He looks up at you, the blue in his eyes popping in surprise. After a moment he regains his confidence and says, “I couldn’t possibly do that I have too much work to do.” He turns back to your work, but feels your gaze on him. “Theseus, you deserve a break,” you step closer to his desk. He looks up and shakes his head again, “I can’t. Besides all this work, I’m your boss. It would be inappropriate.” You consider the fact for a moment. Surprising even to yourself you push on, “Theseus. Outside of work you’re not my boss. Besides that I know you’re brother would really like to see you.” It takes him a minute, but a smile slowly grows on his face. “Oh alright,” he gives you that goofy boyish grin again. You give your biggest grin back and say, “Perfect. I’ll see you there at eight.” He nods his head. Stepping outside, Theseus’s voice pulls you back. “Y/n?” “Hmm?” you reply. He blushes, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. Finally he admits, “I’m glad you’re okay.” You flash a toothy smile, “Me too. See you tonight.”

You had trouble deciding on what to wear, and enlisted Tina’s help. Bringing over multiple options, you knock on Newt’s door. A short, stout man opens it, his gaze passive. “Hello?” he looks at you curiously. “You must be Jacob,” you smile, “I’m Tina’s friend y/n. I told her I would help her get ready before tonight.” He gives you a small forced smile before letting you in. “Teeny!” you call in a sing song voice. She replies, her voice echoing from one of the bedrooms, “In here!” You follow her voice and laugh as you find her sitting in the middle of a gigantic pile of clothes. She looks up at you helpless. “I never know what to wear. Queenie…… she used to help me decide on an outfit.” Before Tina gets emotional, you pull her out of the pile of clothes and declare, “I’ll help you find something.”

An hour later, the two of you had settled on a navy blue dress for Tina. It had short, capped sleeves with matching navy blue beads that hung all the way down the dress, which hit at her calves. The back of the dress was the highlight, dropping low below her ribs. “You look fabulous Teeny,” you tell her, planting a kiss on the top of her head. You completed her look with black high heels and curling her hair, letting it sweep to the side. A blue beaded headband that matched the dress put the whole thing together. It was hard for you to decide on a dress. You decided on a scoop neck dress with the thinnest of straps that laid delicately on your shoulders. This dress had fringe that sparkled instead of beads that hung off of the material. The thing that was stunningly unique about this dress was both the color and the length. The color was that of shimmering gold, a gold that shimmered like sunlight when it hits water. The length was something you had to be talked into. It only hit at your knees which, for the age, was awfully short. “Y/n you look breathtaking,” Tina tells you. “Thanks,” you blush. You hoped she was right. Using your wand, you put tousled curls through your hair that made it look like you’d spent the whole day on the beach. Pulling the sides of your hair back, you secure them with a tortoise shell barrette. For your makeup, you settled on gold eyeshadow that matched your dress. Performing the charm to extend your eyelashes, you finished the look with light blush, and blood red lipstick, just a hint darker then appropriate. Tina laid off the makeup but let you swipe some lipstick on her. “Being a girl is sooooo tedious,” Tina moans. You chuckle in response.

A soft knock comes from the doorway. The two of you turn around and Newt stands, jaw dropped, staring at Tina, his heart practically leaping out of his chest. You laugh and exit the room, slipping under his arm in the doorway. As you leave you hear him say, “Tina you look so beautiful.” A smile forms on your lips. Tina and Newt converse only briefly before meeting you and Jacob in the living room. “Ready?” you ask the two lovebirds. They nod, joining hands. “Jacob, you’ve disapparated before?” you ask him. He nods. “Let’s go then,” you declare. So you take his hand and the four of you leave.

Arriving, the place is packed. Mostly ministry workers celebrating the weekend, every person stood shoulder to shoulder. The scarier times got these days, the more people celebrated everyday like it was their last. Finding a last empty bartop table, Newt and Jacob sit down, followed by Tina. You nudge Newt and whisper, “Psst. Ask her if she wants a drink.” He nods and does just that. You follow him to the bar, deciding to get you a drink as well as Jacob. The bartender’s eyes look you up and down, and it’s pretty plain what he is thinking. “Can I get two glasses of firewhiskey please?” you ask sweetly. He smiles, “Sure thing beautiful.” You blush at the compliment. Soon you return to the table with the drinks. “Thanks,” Jacob takes his from you. You subconsciously begin to sway to the music, humming softly. Jacob laughs and approaches asking, “Wanna dance?” “Sure!” you smile at him. You could tell he was going to be a great friend. A medium paced dance tune began and you let Jacob swing you around the dancefloor. He was surprisingly good at it, in fact he was a natural. Giggling with glee, you revel in this moment of joy amongst friends. As the song slows, Jacob twirls you at a slower pace. And when he turns you, your eyes fall on one person at your table. Unmistakable, Theseus Scamander’s intense blue eyes were glued to you. He watched every part of your body move in time with the music. You kept dancing, but your eyes never left his. And when the song was over you thanked Jacob and walked back to the table while he went to get a drink. You approached him agonizingly slow, not wanting to seem too eager. Finally, you were inches from him. Looking up into the handsomest eyes you’d ever seen your voice washes over him sweetly as you say, “Hi.” That telling smile, the boyish grin of true happiness, formed across his lips. “You’re quite the dancer,” he commented. You blushed profusely. An awkwardness passes between the two of you. Jacob returns to the table with a fresh drink. “Shoot y/n, I forgot to get you one,” Jacob curses himself. You laugh, “It’s okay Jacob. Have you met Newt’s brother?” you begin to introduce them. “Theseus this is Jacob Kowalski. He’s a baker. Jacob this is Newt’s brother. Head auror,” you comment. Jacob shakes his hand and Theseus eyes him curiously, piecing his thoughts together. When he connects the dots he gasps, “You’re the muggle?” Jacob laughs and nods. Then he departs to talk with Newt and Tina.

Theseus immediately turns to you. “He wasn’t obliviated?” he hisses at you. You looked at Theseus, who was clearly mentally freaking out. “Theseus, we can’t obliviate him. Even if you tried I highly doubt that it would work. He was obliviated in New York, but he still retained his memories. Queenie must have done something to prevent it.” Theseus nods, running a hand over his face. “Come on, let’s get you a drink. You need it,” you drag him over to the bar, despite his protests. Arriving at the bar, the bartender turns immediately towards you. “Beautiful you’re back!” he flirts with you. You giggle, “Can we get two firewhiskeys please.” He briefly locks eyes with Theseus, staring him down. After a moment he flashes a smile at you saying, “Of course you can sweetheart.” He pours the two glasses and hands him to the both of you. “Until your next visit,” he jokes, kissing your hand in a dramatic fashion. His lips linger. Theseus walks back to the table and you quickly follow him.

He stares into the amber colored liquid in his glass, a scowl placed clearly on his face. “What’s wrong,” you briefly rest your hand on his. He flinches, so you take your hand away. His voice comes out strained, “So are you dating him then?” You frown, unsure of who he was talking about. Then you figure out he was talking about the bartender. You laugh out loud, “The bartender? Absolutely not! He’s clearly just a shameless flirt.” Theseus nods, having trouble hiding the relief on his face. Tina and Jacob can be spotted on the dance floor, laughing like the best of friends. Newt wanders over. “Theseus, what a surprise it is to see you here,” Newt comments as he walks up to the table. Theseus chuckles, “Y/n pointed out that I could use a night off.” Theseus gazes at you and Newt follows his look. “Yes she can be quite thoughtful like that,” Newt smiles at you. Distracted, your foot stomps in time to the music, a fast paced Charleston. Maybe it was the endless amounts of firewhiskey, or maybe it was how much you liked him, but either way you took your shot. Turning around to face him you look up into his bright blue eyes. “Theseus would you like to dance?” you ask sweetly. He gazes into your own eyes and wears a pained expression. “Oh that’s okay, I don’t really feel like it,” he replies, staring into his own drink. Your face falls. After a moment you say, “Come on Theseus, it’ll be fun.” You take his hand, but he pulls it back. “It really wouldn’t be appropriate,” he admits. You sigh shaking your head, “You’re not my boss outside of work.” He briefly smiles before saying, “Yes that’s true. But I am 14 years your senior.” He returns to his drink, and drains it in one long swallow. He won’t return your gaze. You mutter under your breath, “That doesn’t matter to me.” You assume he doesn’t hear you, but your statement sticks with him. You down your own drink and stand staring out onto the dance floor. Newt watches your with sympathy. His own partner being twirled around by Jacob still, he walks up to you. “Y/n, would you care to dance?” he offers his hand. You beam brightly, “Well I would love to Newt.” Giggling, you place your hand in his and let him pull you onto the dance floor.

Newt also knew the Charleston well. Breathlessly you ask, “Are you this bold around Tina?” He laughs nervously, “Absolutely not. Tina makes me rather nervous, because well, I like her so much. But you’re my friend so I’m not as nervous. Besides it’s pretty clear you have feelings for my brother.” You blush, but don’t deny it. After another minute you ask, “Do you think he’ll ever see me as anything more than his auror?” Newt narrows his eyes at you, “Can’t you see he already does?” You shake your head, “He won’t even dance with me.” Newt sighs, “Y/n, he clearly likes you. But he’s obviously conflicted. Not only because he’s your boss but because he’s so much older.” Tears stain your eyes. Newt notices and smiles gently down at you. “He’ll come around eventually. I promise,” he tells you. “You’re a good friend Newt. At least one of the Scamander brothers can make me smile,” you laugh sarcastically. As the song ends he pulls you in for a brief hug. “Why don’t you get yourself a drink?” he pushes you in the direction of the bar, heading for the table himself.

Reluctantly you take a seat at the bar, establishing your need for more alcohol. The bartender shamelessly flirts but you interrupt, “I’m not actually in the mood to talk to anyone really.” His charming demeanor shatters as he pushes your drink into your hands. So you sat and drank, a light buzz from the alcohol settling itself around you.

At the bartop table Newt approaches his brother but is interrupted by Tina. “Having fun?” he grins at the beautiful girl. She grins, “The best time Newt! Now come dance with me again!” He smiles but counters, “I will on the next song. I need to speak with my brother first.” She smiles and says, “I’ll be waiting.” In her own euphoria of firewhiskey, she boldly plants a kiss on his cheek, causing blush to creep up from his neck. She’s then whisked away by Jacob. Newt steps up to his brother, clearing his throat. Theseus was staring into his empty glass. “Newt what is it?” he says without looking up. Newt states, “Y/n likes you. Quite a lot actually. And she’s a great girl.” Theseus immediately shakes his head, “I’m her boss. And I’m much too old for someone like her. She’s got plenty of men her age to choose from.” His gaze follows you and sure enough at least 4 men stood around you, trapping you against the bar. Theseus gaze falls. “She shouldn’t want to be with me anyways,” he comments. Newt laughs, “I know how you feel. Everyday I think that Tina shouldn’t want to be with me. She has plenty of better prospects. But regardless, Tina likes me. Can’t explain it if I tried. So rather than being unhappy I just choose to accept that.” This still doesn’t speak to Theseus. So Newt takes a different approach, “Theseus. You and I both watched Leta die that night. Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed for any of us. We have to act now. Theseus you were always the brave one, not me. But even I am moving forward with Tina.” Theseus looks up and gazes at you again. This time there were 6 men surrounding you. He noted the discomfort on your face. Newt takes a final stand, “At least ask her to dance.” Theseus nods, and begins to slowly make his way over to you. Newt smiles accomplished and makes his way over to Tina.

“Wanna dance sweetheart?” a male voice echoed in your ear. Turning, you saw yet another stranger with eyes full of lust. There were now 7 men who were eyeing you like animals, trapping you on a stool to the point where your back was pressed against the bar. Another voice shot back at the first one, “I think she’d rather dance with me.” The boldness of firewhiskey takes one of the men as he rests a hand on your thigh. You push back in surprise, but the bar was right behind you. “Please don’t do that,” you push his hand away. “Come on sweetheart you’re gonna have to dance with one of us,” it was the first male voice who wouldn’t move his hand from your leg. You grit your teeth, “I said remove your hand. Now.” He laughs, “Fiery. I think that.” To your horror, his hand travels upward, now resting mid thigh. You’re about to pull out your wand when a tall figure parts the crowd of lustful men like the red sea. Looking up, you see Theseus coming to your rescue. His eyes flashed with anger as he watched the men acting like animals. “Is there a problem here?” his voice comes out strong. The man immediately removes his hand from you. Turning, he sees Theseus and immediately recognizes him. “No problem here sir,” he stutters over his words. The men disperse, Theseus inspiring fear into each of them. “Thank you so much,” you look up at Theseus, gratitude spilling over your eyes in the form of tears. Theseus growls, “Those men are animals.” You shake your head, agreeing with him. Theseus watches you contently, taking in the shimmering gold of your dress and how it brought out the same shimmering sparkle in your eyes. Then Theseus does the last thing you expected him to do. He holds out his large hand and whispers, “Dance with me?” You look up and see a deep blue staring back at you, full of admiration. Wordlessly, you nod.

Theseus holds his hand in yours as he leads you to the center of the dance floor. Your hand was surprisingly tiny in his. As if by luck, the song immediately slows into a romantic ballad when you arrive. Theseus, the fearless auror, gulps in nervousness as he places his hands on your waist. Slowly, you wrap your arms around his neck, intertwining your fingers. Together the two of you sway gently on the dance floor, staring into each other’s eyes, getting lost in each other’s gaze. Sighing in contentment, you rest your head on Theseus’s chest. With your ear pressed against his shirt, you can hear his heart fluttering rapidly, with no sign of slowing down. The poor man was extremely nervous. Pushing past his nervousness, you feel his hands tighten around your waist, his hands nearly wrapping around your entire torso to meet each other. A touch that could be perceived as so possessive made you feel so safe. At least two more slow songs played and Theseus doesn’t move his hands, continuing to pull you in circles. The music then changes to a fast paced Charleston. Theseus reluctantly lets you go and you follow him back to the table. He asks you, “Another drink?” You ponder the thought. It probably wasn’t a good idea, your mind already slightly hazy. You shake your head. “Take me home?” you whisper. Theseus swallows his nervousness and nods. “I’ll get our coats,” he tells you and departs. As soon as he disappears from sight Newt and Tina approach.

“What’s happening?” Tina asks you eagerly. You shake your head, “Nothing, Theseus is just taking me home.” She smirks at you. Newt is surprisingly silent. Suddenly you connect the thoughts. “Newt did you say something to him?” you blurt out the question. Newt immediately blushes and gives you your answer. “Oh Newt,” you moan. He eyes you curiously, “What’s the matter? Isn’t this what you wanted?” You shake your head, “No I wanted him to like me for me. Not because he was pushed into it by his brother.” Newt objects, “No, he likes you. He admitted it. But he needed a push. He was going to let the age difference come between you.” “Oh,” you consider the thought. Soon Theseus returns with your coat. He slips it over your shoulders and announces, “I’m going to take y/n home. Newt, Tina, Jacob, have a good night.” They all wish you good night. Walking out of the door of the club you shiver in the cold. Theseus pulls you close, arm around your shoulders, and disapparates.

You reappear in your small London apartment and shake off your coat, placing it on the rack. Theseus stands awkwardly in the doorway. “You’re going to stay for some tea aren’t you?” you state the question as if it’s obvious. Theseus nods, “Okay.” He takes off his own coat and places it besides yours on the rack. Whipping out your wand, you fill the fireplace with nice, warm flames. Theseus paces around, clearly unsure where to go. You giggle, “You can sit on the couch Thes.” The nickname slips out of your mouth before you realize it. Theseus doesn’t correct you nor does he comment on it, saving you embarrassment. Instead, he grins his school boy grin at the fond nickname you had decided to bless him with. So Theseus sits down on the couch and waits patiently for you to make tea. When you don’t return after a few minutes he enters the kitchen behind you, though you don’t notice. You stand at the stove, humming softly as you pour the tea from the hot kettle. His hot breath hits your neck, “I was wondering where you’d gone off too.” Jumping, you splash a little hot water on the stove. Finishing pouring, you set the kettle down and turn to see him standing mere centimeters from you. He laughs, “I didn’t mean to scare you.” You smile in return, handing him his tea. You follow him to the couch. Sitting next to him, your legs touch. “Why do you make it that way? You could just use your wand and be done in seconds,” he comments. You shrug, “I grew up doing it this way. My mom is a witch but my father was not.” Theseus is intrigued. He asks, “But I thought the marriage of magical and non-magical folk was illegal in the states?” Flicking your wand, you absentmindedly wave the jar of honey over and spoon some into your mug. You then stir it with your finger. Licking the honey from your fingers you comment, “Oh it definitely is. But my parents did it anyways.” He furrows his brows, thinking about it. “So how did you get into Ilvermorny? Didn’t they know that you’re a half blood?” he asks. You consider the thought, “That is true. But my mother was a very close friend of President Piquery’s as a child. While I was in America, she forged our documents. According to MACUSA I’m a pureblood.” “That’s high treason,” he replies. You chuckle, “Yes it is. But it doesn’t matter now. Here I can be a half blood and it doesn’t matter. It didn’t seem to be a factor in hiring me at least.” Theseus smiles, “No it certainly was not. I hired you because after I met Tina and discovered how brilliant she is, I told her I needed a partner, a new auror. She raved about your brilliance and I knew I had to at least meet you.” His compliment makes you blush. “So what are you?” you ask him. It takes him a minute to figure out what you mean. “I’m a pureblood. The Scamander’s are one of the original 28.” You gasp. This man was pureblood royalty. This pureblood was rather sneaky, you didn’t realize that his arm rested on the back of the sofa, allowing you to lean into his body slightly.

Setting your tea down, you turn and look at Theseus, his blue eyes meeting your own. “Theseus I have to admit something,” you tell him. The alcohol in your system was effectively acting as veritaserum, and you didn’t know yet if that was a good or bad thing. “What is it?” he asks breathlessly, leaning slightly closer. Biting your lip you confess, “I have feelings for you.” You gaze down, suddenly scared to see his reaction. What you didn’t see was the shiny gloss of tears that rested on his eyes. When you look up, you could see his conflicting emotions as clear as day. “Theseus I realize-” you were cut off with his lips on yours. It was the first time Theseus had ever acted on impulse in his life, and it felt good. It took you only mere moments to melt into the kiss. His lips were soft against yours, conveying all the emotions you felt in your heart. Theseus’s hand reached up and cupped your cheek gently. When your hands moved to rest on his strong chest, his conscience broke through the haze of feelings in his mind. He immediately pulled his lips off of yours and looked away guiltily.

“Thes,” you whisper. He shakes his head, emotion threatening to spill over on the surface. “Please,” you whimper. He looks at you and you bite back a gasp of surprise as you see the tears in his own eyes. “I can’t,” he begins. Soon tears hit your own cheeks. You didn’t want to hear about how he couldn’t do this. But he continues, “We can’t do this. I’m your boss.” You interject, “But they have contracts for that now! It’s not against the rules anymore.” He shakes his head, “Even so y/n. It’s not fair to you. You have your whole life ahead of you. I’m 38, hell I’m already middle aged. It wouldn’t be fair of me to take your youth away from you. It would be inappropriate for you to be with me. I’m 14 years your senior.” You groan in frustration, “You wouldn’t be taking away my youth! It’s not like I’m not having a say in this.” He stands and goes to the coat rack. You cry out in desperation, “Theseus Scamander I like you! I don’t care how old you are, that doesn’t matter to me! Why is it so bad to like you?” He turns at your outburst. Slipping his coat onto his shoulders he smiles at you sadly. “Y/n, I would never forgive myself. I’m too broken for you. I know my brother told you about the war. The war hero,” he laughs cynically, “I’m not the same as I was when I was your age. The war did things to me. It changed me,” he admits. You hastily take his hands and plead, “Why can’t you just let yourself be happy? I’m telling you I want to be with you. The war changed everybody. I can help you.” He bites his lip and looks away, desperation filling his features. And in the last moment of weakness he throws caution to the wind, pulling you into him. With a hand on each cheek he smashes his lips to yours. The kiss is salty, your lips mixing with the tears coming from each of you. You clung to him tightly, hands gripping his suit jacket. And when he pulls away, you’re at a loss for words. “That won’t happen again. I’m sorry y/n. Goodbye,” his hands linger in your own. Turning on the spot he disapparates.

You cry out in anger and sink to your knees, tears flooding your cheeks. Wiping your cheeks on your arm, you pick up your wand and direct it towards yourself. Your appearance changes. Instead of the shining gold dress, you now wore button up striped pajamas. Ignoring your smeared makeup you take your leather overcoat from the rack and put it on. Thinking of Tina, you disapparate to Newt’s.

It was probably 2 in the morning by now. Nevertheless you bang your fist on the door three times. “Tina,” you cry. Banging your fist again, the door flies open and you fall into Tina’s arms. Wordlessly, she shuts the door and leads you over to the couch where you sob shamelessly into her arms. After almost a half hour of loud sobbing, she gently lifts your chin and asks, “Do you want to tell me what happened?” You nod, sniffling uncontrollably. Newt rubs his eyes groggily, walking into the room. “Tina? What’s going on?” He stops when he sees you crying in Tina’s arms. He walks over to you and gently kneels in front of you. “Y/n what happened?” he asks softly. Tina encourages you by brushing the hairs away that are sticking to your cheeks from tears. You choke out, “I told him. I told Theseus that I had feelings for him.” When you don’t continue Newt asks, “And what? He said he didn’t return them or?” You shake your head, “No it’s worse. He has feelings for me but he won’t let himself give in. He says he won’t take away my youth from me like that. That he’s too old and damaged for me.” A darkness passes over Newt’s features. “Theseus will regret this,” he growls. Ignoring his statement, you continue to cry on your best friend, your tears soaking through her shirt. “I can’t do this. How am I supposed to go into work on Monday?” you ask no one in particular. Newt is lost in his anger and it’s Tina who says, “Don’t think about that right now. This weekend you’ll stay with us. And on monday you can just decide whatever your heart feels.” You nod and hug her in thanks. And when the tears slow down Tina tucks you in on the couch and promises you that everything is going to be okay. Newt says you can help him with the animals the next day which brings a soft smile to your features. They wish you goodnight and you fall asleep staring at the ceiling.

The weekend crawls by at a snail’s pace. Your heart ached with the feelings you had for Theseus. Of all the emotions you had, confusion was a big one. And so on breakfast Sunday you breathlessly ask Tina, “How could I have fallen for him so fast?” Tina chuckles, “The Scamander’s have that effect on people.” Newt smiles at her comment. It made you happy to see that at least Newt had taken your advice and was moving forward with Tina. Walking towards the door, he throws his gray overcoat on. “Newt where are you going?” you ask curiously. He replies, “I have to pick up some things from the ministry before I start the job Monday.” You nod. He shares a glance with Tina who nods encouragingly. Newt was going to ministry, but not for his job. Smiling, he departs.

Not bothering to knock, Newt bursts through the door into Theseus’s office, expecting to find him staying there. Theseus, who was asleep at his desk, picked his head up off of the wooden surface and looked at Newt curiously. “Brother? What can I do for you?” Newt growls, “Cut the act. Y/n has been staying at my place this weekend and she is completely broken. You broke her. I thought you would listen to me. You’re going to lose her. As both an employee and as a friend. You need to fix this.” Theseus groans, pulling on his hair, “Newt. She shouldn’t want to be with me. I’ll ruin her. She’s so innocent, so pure. I couldn’t do that to her.” Newt sighs, “Did she say she wanted to be with you?” Slowly, Theseus nods. Newt rests a hand on his brother’s shoulder and replies, “Then that is all that matters. I told you I don’t deserve Tina. But Tina wants to be with me and I’m not going to deny her that. Don’t do the same to y/n.” Theseus doesn’t answer, he rests his head in his hands. “Thes. This is your last shot. A girl like y/n, she doesn’t come around all that often. Don’t let her slip through your fingers.” Before Theseus can answer Newt disapparates, returning to you and Tina.

At dinner you announce the decision you’d come to. “I’ve decided to resign,” you sigh. Tina gasps and Newt looks worried. “Y/n you can’t! You’ve worked so hard for this!” Tina pleads with you. You shake your head, “Teeny I cannot work for a man that I’m falling in love with knowing that he’s too goddamn stubborn to move forward.” Before Tina can respond Newt says, “Y/n promise me something.” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Promise me you’ll at least say goodbye to Theseus. You have to hand your resignation into him directly anyways. Just promise me you’ll do this. Please,” he begs. It seemed important so you reluctantly nod. That night you leave after dinner, returning to your place for the first time since Friday.

After a night of shitty sleep, you get ready for your last day of work. Clothed in a navy blue pantsuit, you wear a soft white blouse underneath. The same nude heels rest on your feet and you pull the sides of your hair up with the same tortoise shell barrette that you wore Friday night. When you arrive at the ministry, everything is awfully quiet. Sighing, you enter your office. In one swoop you gathered your papers and the picture you treasured of you and your friends into your briefcase. And as you close the case, the clock strikes 9. Theseus would be in by now and you swallow your dread, deciding not to put off the inevitable. Approaching his door, you take one deep breath before knocking.

“Come in,” his voice answers. But there’s something different about it. It sounds broken, and immensely tired. Shrugging off your worry for him you open the door and step in. Theseus sat at his desk, his hands pulling tightly on his auburn curls and he looked in great distress. His eyes had a hollowness to them, as if he wasn’t really there. His eyes were glued to a sheet of paper in front of him. Clearing your throat, you step forward. Theseus looks up at you and immediately stops tugging on his hair. His eyes drink you in, and it’s hard to ignore the longing in them. Swallowing your pride you begin, “Mr. Scamander;” he interrupts, “I thought we were using each other’s first names?” Ignoring his question you continue, “Mr. Scamander I came to your office this morning to…” your voice trails off as your emotions try to get the better of you. Coughing you finish the statement, “I came to hand in my resignation. Effective immediately.” Theseus’s eyes widen in surprise. Lucky for you he’s stunned into silence, allowing you to escape. So you turn and make to exit the room.

With your hand on the door knob, a strangled sob comes from behind you, “Y/n wait!” Sighing, you turn around and meet his gaze. He stands beside his desk. “What?” you reply coolly. Theseus runs a hand through his tangled curls and sighs in frustration. “Please. Don’t go,” he chokes out. You study him and cross your arms. Of course you wanted to jump into his arms, to beg for him to be yours again, but you wouldn’t subject yourself to such desperation. So you put up your walls. “Why should I?” you say softly. He groans, running his hands over his face. You study him carefully, watching as he struggles to articulate his thoughts. Managing to calm his demeanor he says, “Because I don’t accept your resignation. You’ve worked too hard for this position to throw it away.” You level with him replying, “You’re right Theseus. I did work hard for this. But I can’t work here anymore. Not after what happened. It’s too painful,” your voice cracks at the end of your statement. Determined to make things right he blurts out, “But what if things were different?” You raise your eyebrows in question. He continues, “You were right. You’re an adult and your smart enough to make your own decisions. I just felt like I was stealing your innocence. You’re so young y/n and I could see the purity in you as soon as you walked through my door. But the truth is….” his voice briefly trails off, “The truth is I’ve had feelings for you ever since I laid eyes on you.” It’s then that you uncross your arms and move slightly closer to him. “Theseus, you have feelings for every girl you lay your eyes on, I see it,” you tell him. He raises his voice, “No this is different!” “How so?” you question. He sighs, “Those girls… they all want their shot at me. But I don’t even see them. I guess I started flirting with them as a distraction from the emptiness I felt in my heart at having no one. I’ve never had anyone and I’m not immune to the effect of that. I felt empty and alone. That is until I saw you. Honest.” You bit your lip in frustration because you knew he was telling the truth. As soon as you entered the ministry he stopped all communications with any other women. And when he had spoken to Rebecca in front of you it was her who was all over him, not the other way around. “Theseus what is your point?” you try to sound stern but fail, your voice quivering at the fresh hope blooming in your chest. Theseus chances a step closer to you and declares, “I want to be with you.” There. He said it, the exact words you wanted to hear. Ringing entered your ears and the whole room seemed to spin. Stepping closer to him you stumble, placing a balancing hand on his desk. Mere inches away from you, Theseus concentrated all his energy on your response. You look up, finding his familiar blue eyes. His face grew closer to your own, longing for your lips to be attached again. And when he’s less than a breath away you stop him.

“What if you decide you’re not good enough again?” your voice comes out barely audible. Theseus looks at you and sees the worry, the fear at being abandoned behind your eyes. Taking your hands in his he says firmly, “Then I’ll let you love me for the broken man I am anyways. If you want to be with me, who am I to deny that wish?” There’s a new smile on his face, a hopeful smile. It was all too easy to give in. Returning his smile you whisper, “Okay.” Grinning, he pulls you into his chest, holding you as tightly and as closely as he can. When you lift your head and look up at him, he lowers his lips onto yours. The sweet taste returns and you let yourself get lost in the kiss. Theseus hands find the familiarness of your waist and place a hand on his cheeks, savoring every inch of him. His tongue dances with your own and you feel a new sensation developing in your chest; passion. Theseus only pulls away when he runs out of breath. He smiles, pressing his forehead against your own. A giggle of happiness escapes your lips. “All the girls in the ministry will be in a tizzy of jealousy,” you joke. Theseus laughs momentarily, his voice then growing serious, “Let them talk,” he says. Nodding in agreement you let his lips return to your own, relishing in the pure contentment settling in your heart. Theseus places you lightly on his desk and pulls away breathless. His eyes soak up the sight of you. “Thank you,” he breathes. “For what?” you ask, pulling his face in closer for another quick kiss. Sighing in pleasure Theseus says against your lips, “For giving me a second chance to get things right.” You smile into the kiss, deepening it by pulling him closer to which Theseus happily obliges. Not much work got done that day.

[callumturncr]

First Times [Theseus Scamander]

Summary: In which Theseus Scamander tries to find himself through a series of firsts after Leta Lestrange.

*CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FROM FANTASTIC BEASTS: THE CRIMES OF GRINDELWALD*

Author’s Note: Tagging @theseuscmander because she loves Theseus as much as I do :’)

Gif is not mine. Words: 1.9k. 

Theseus Scamander sits in the Minister’s office with his spine wrought in tension and a bitter taste in his mouth left by the aftermath of the battle. Ministry officials scurry back and forth in front of him and snippets of their conversation, both in French and English, muddle their way through to his understanding but all he thinks of is Leta Lestrange.

Cobalt blue tongues of fire lap at him on all sides. They hiss and flicker, eager to devour at Grindelwald’s command but Theseus is hardly worried about himself. He thinks of his fiancée and her last words thunder through him. He was going to say them back, he thinks, but the brightest flash erupts from her wand and the waves of blue disappear, taking Leta with them.

Someone is calling his name.

A woman stands before him, hand hovering over his shoulder uncertainly. It’s a colleague of his, a colleague he knows well. She’s a good friend of Newt’s too, one of the few his brother has. She takes a seat next to him and regards him with sad eyes, the pain he feels reflecting back in them.

Theseus doesn’t want to cry – not here in front of all these people he doesn’t know – but the concern in her eyes is so genuinely heartfelt that he tastes the salt on his tongue anyway. She moves her hand to grip his across the table. Her fingers are cold enough to make him shiver but Theseus returns the gesture with equal force, holding on until his knuckles go white.

For the first time since Leta’s death, Theseus allows himself to break.

-

When he steps into his home in London again, Theseus falters a little at how unbearably strong Leta’s presence is. It weaves through the air from the picture frames on the mantelpiece, from her mug on the dining table, from the fabric of her coat neatly placed on the coatrack. He’s not quite sure what to do with himself – Theseus normally never has time to ponder aimlessly like this and the unfamiliarity of it makes the sadness inside of him swell.

Weeks pass and Theseus thinks he ought to pack up Leta’s stuff, put them away in the attic where they can’t haunt him anymore but he can’t ever seem to find the heart to do it. Briefly he wonders whether he should write Newt to help him but the words don’t come easily.

Nothing does anymore.

Travers makes him work and work and work and he all but throws himself into it with a vengeance, burying his grief in it. Sheets of paper litter his desk like snow and his pot of ink needs constant refilling but Head Auror Theseus Scamander does not complain. Fatigue paints him all over, leaves his bones stiff and unyielding but the pressure keeps mounting on his shoulders and Theseus keeps going that way, fingers coated in ink and lips bitten raw until one day he feels on the verge of collapse.

She finds him once again – like she did that night – with an expression of part concern, part horror distressing her pretty features.

“Mr. Scamander–”

“I’m alright,” he says. He is hardly convincing, with the way he sits, slumped against the floor of his office. She mirrors the action, crouching some distance away as if to not frighten him.

“Theseus,” she says this time. He meets her stare after a moment of reluctance. “Newt is worried about you. He would like you to answer his letters.”

“I’m fine,” he repeats, sitting up a little straighter and brushing his hair back.

“You can talk to me if you like.”

Theseus studies her carefully and the worry etched on her face eases the tension from his shoulders a little. And so he tells her. Every sad thought, every bit of anger pent up inside of him comes pouring out like a dam let loose and by the end of it she’s hugging him as tightly as she held onto his hand that day.

It comes as a surprise to them both that Theseus lets her.

When the weekend comes, it becomes clear that she’s told Newt because on Saturday, his little brother is at his doorstep. He stands a little awkwardly; hands empty without his brown suitcase. In his front pocket, Pickett regards the older Scamander with a curious look.

“Don’t worry,” says Newt, a little sheepishly. “I didn’t bring Niffler.”

For the first time since Leta’s death, Theseus laughs.

-

Theseus cannot remember the last time he felt at ease like this.

A record plays softly in the back as he listens to Newt and Jacob bicker. It’s New Year’s Eve and while the ache inside him remains still, he feels lighter these days. The five of them fill the evening with idle talk and it feels like being back at Hogwarts, at one of the long tables in the Great Hall during dinner time. The topic of Tina utterly defeating Theseus ‘war hero’ Scamander back at the French Ministry surfaces, and he grins widely. It makes him look younger, fresher.

Overcome by peals of laughter, they seem to forget the two glaringly empty chairs that would’ve, in simpler times, seated Queenie and Leta.

Theseus takes a sip of his drink, letting his gaze fall to her. She talks to Tina across the table and the air is light with the notes of their laughter, mingling with a comfortable silence that lingers. In the dim glow of the lamp, Leta returns to him and suddenly, Theseus is struck by the likeness – dark hair and even darker eyes, the same light dusting of freckles across the nose. His heart twists painfully but he tries as hard as he can to shake away the image.

He wonders if he should’ve tried harder because later, when she’s about to leave, he almost kisses her. Neither of them are quite sure how they end up in such close proximity but here, up close, her eyes have a warmth to them and they glint the colour of melted copper. Theseus’ blaze glacier blue in the twilight, like the hottest of fires and she finds herself transfixed too. It’s the faintest brush of their lips, the warmth of his fingers on her jaw that they bask in but soon enough, the shaft of light passes and the illusion splinters.

Leta disappears and the guilt rises within Theseus like bile. He feels dirty, like he’s used her and the truth of it is so repulsive that he staggers back. Before he can apologize, the door swings open and Newt stands in the picture, back from walking Jacob home. He regards them with a curious look before smiling and walking hurriedly into the kitchen.

She rubs a hand across her mouth, erasing the taste of him. Stepping neatly out of his grasp, she addresses him with the same look as Newt.

“I don’t know where that–” Theseus stops, wringing his hands together in front of him. One look at her face tells him she doesn’t buy a word of it. “I’m sorry.”

Praying he can’t see the pink tinting her cheeks, she waves away his apology with a shake of her head. There is a sad smile on her face when she speaks. “Thank you for inviting me today but perhaps we shouldn’t be so familiar, Mr. Scamander.”

The formality makes him wince but he nods anyway. Tina and Newt stand behind him, a somewhat anxious look on their faces as she opens the door and hurries out. Theseus leaves soon after and Newt watches him carefully as he goes, wondering when his older brother became a taker too.

That night, Theseus tosses and turns in his bed, restless. The image of her face so close to his just will not go away so he gives in and lets his mind wander in its sleepy haze, thinking of her soft smile and even softer voice – things he will most likely never see or hear again because of how badly he’s ruined things.

And for the first time since her death, Leta seems to leave his thoughts entirely.

-

It happens at one of the annual Ministry gatherings.

Theseus has to beg his little brother to come, never mind having to nearly wrestle him into a proper suit. The affair is a grand one and even Albus Dumbledore attends, pretending not to notice the dirty little looks Travers keeps throwing his way.

He catches a few glimpses of her among the crowd. Theseus wants to convince himself that she keeps popping up by chance but truthfully, it is he who seeks her out. She is as radiant as the sun, standing on one of the balconies overlooking the space, adorned in a gown of pale ivory and a smile that makes Theseus feel warm inside. Things are not so different between them since the encounter but there is an undeniable distance, one that no matter how hard he tries Theseus can’t seem to bridge.

A disturbance on the other side of the hall takes his attention.

It doesn’t make sense to him, how quickly it happens because one moment he’s looking towards the commotion, where he spots none other than Vinda Rosier among the sea of faces and the next, the balcony to his left is collapsing.

A hoarse yell erupts from his mouth and Theseus barely has time to register the shock on her face as the floor gives away with a deafening boom. Pillars of stone and marble fold in on each other and Theseus thinks he’s the one falling, air knocking flat out of his chest as he watches her disappear.

Fear claws at his throat and he feels as though the blue flames are at his feet once more. Hands grab at him, pull him forcefully back but like in the Lestrange Mausoleum, he fights viciously to get to her. The sense of déjà vu that resonates through him makes Theseus go cold.

Plumes of flint coloured smoke rise from the crowd as Grindelwald’s acolytes attempt to escape. Managing to catch two of them mid-disapparition, Theseus barks orders furiously as he rushes towards the rubble. Dust obscures his vision and his ears ring painfully but he counts the injured as best as he can, swallowing hard as the number climbs and climbs.

When he finally finds her, his heart drops to his stomach. She lies between shards of broken stone and blood seeps from a gash on her face, painting her cheeks and hair crimson. Theseus is on his knees in an instant, attempting to pull her out of the debris but her leg is broken from the impact of the fall and twists at the most grotesque angle he’s ever seen. She looks so helpless, so small lying there that in his despair, he almost misses the shallow rise and fall of her chest.

Almost.

Blinking against the dust, she opens her eyes and Theseus chokes out a breath. Tightening his arms around her, he bows his head in relief and the tears on his cheeks wet hers too. Something resembling a smile crosses her face as she brings a hand to grip his and once again, he feels like he’s been here before.

Maybe it’s the way his name falls from her lips or just the feel of her, alive, that prompts him to steal another kiss. Like before, the touch of their lips is as light as a feather but this time it is not a mistake, and the image of her face is not shadowed by a memory.

And when the doctors arrive and Newt is pulling him away so she can be attended to, for the first time, Theseus thinks things might be okay after all.

[aefintyr]

a multi-muse survey

tagged by @ourpyrrhicvictory​​ <3

CANON MUSES

name of your favorite muse: Probably either Bellatrix or Mary. I’ve played Bellatrix for years, and actually RPed her on her own blog before making this one, so writing her comes naturally. She’s so awful and disturbing, but also fiercely independent and wild while still being dutiful and doing what is best for the family. A lot of people portray her as either one or the other, but the point of my portrayal of Bellatrix is that she can be both of these seemingly contradictory things and how she is both of these things at the same time. But Mary has quickly become a favourite of mine, because of her complexity and the darkness she grapples with and how just because she’s dealt with one form of trauma, doesn’t mean she’ll react the same to another form of trauma. But she’s still her, fundamentally, even if she can’t believe it, or wants to believe it.

name of your very first muse: On this blog? Alecto! For HP? Probably Bellatrix, in all honesty. I mean, I’m pretty certain; I mainly played her in group rpgs. My very first canon muse in general? Uhhh, I’m honestly not sure but it MIGHT’VE been Amara from TVD. I played her for a bit, back when i was still into TVD, along with Ayana. But tbh I don’t have a clue, I’ve been doing this thing for so long, I can’t remember.

name of your meanest muse: Alecto. Bellatrix is pretty fucking awful and is up there, and I almost answered with her but @ourpyrrhicvictory convinced me otherwise. Yes, Alecto doesn’t really hate Muggles all that much and anyone can feel the brunt of Bellatrix’s wrath but Alecto’s just... so malicious? They are both cruel. But Alecto directs a lot of her cruelty towards her half-brother and she’s just so... petty about it.

name of your nicest muse: Mate, I don’t know. There’s Étiennette, Katie, Lily, Charity... I guess I’ll pick Katie because she’s just so nice and sweet, but in a way that’s different to everyone else. Like she’s competitive, but outside of Quidditch, she’s harmless and she doesn’t like or want to hurt people.

name of your most troubled muse: Oh boy! It’s pretty close between Dorcas and Mary, but I still do think Mary easily wins out. She’s just been through a lot and goes through a lot. Losing her parents, then being raised in a Muggle orphanage for a time away from Scotland because her grandparents don’t want her, having to hide her magic. Then when she’s found a place in Hogwarts and friends who love her and she loves them, Mulciber comes in and ruins everything, and the trauma from that experience changes her and she grapples with a lot of inner-darkness and hatred and is pretty self-destructive. And then she loses basically everyone she loved and cared about. Survivor’s guilt is a bitch.

character you have the most muse for atm: Bellatrix, Mary, and Alecto always lmao But also Étiennette.

two of your muses that would never get along: Bellatrix and Alice, for very obvious reasons.

two of your muses that could be best friends: I’ll go with the obvious and say Lily and Mary because they love each other so much and are canonically best friends on my blog.

two of your muses that would make a cute couple: A cute couple? Uh... I guess Katie and Romilda would be pretty cute, once Romilda improves on her selfishness and stuff.

two of your muses that are most similar: Okay, so, I have insecurities over making my characters too similar and try to make them actual, flawed characters. But! Alecto and Bellatrix. As described before, they’re both pretty fucking terrible people and a lot of their cruelty comes from a place of anger and hatred. But they deal with it differently.

name of the muse you’d be best friends with irl: Honestly, maybe Lily! We have a similar protective streak of our friends and will punch someone for them.

name of the muse you’d probably hate irl: Bellatrix and Alecto without any hesitation. I mean, they’re fucking wizard Nazis. And they torture and murder a lot of people. Like, I would just hate them on principle alone, even if I didn’t know they fucking killed people.

a faceclaim you’ve been eager to use: Taylor Russell! Also James Rolleston, who I nominally have as Donaghan Tremlett but will probably be removing, since I haven’t done anything with him whatsoever. But Taylor Russell is just sooo pretty, holy shit. And Elodie Yung, because she’s awesome and beautiful.

OC  MUSES

name of your favorite muse: Honestly? Leta. They were a passion project, with me taking like a couple details from a deleted canon character and running away with it. They sat on the back-burner for quite a bit, before I finally made this blog and included them on it. They’re all about adaptability and fluidity and identity, and how that ties together. You can thank Filthy Rich for inspiring me - with a dash of Inej from SOC.

name of your very first muse: Written on this multimuse? Grisha. First HP OC, period? I honestly couldn’t tell you, probably some self-insert or some shit. My very first OC I roleplayed just in general? A winged ice wolf named Glace. Do not judge me, I was pretty hard into the whole wolf/Warrior Cats forum rps when I was younger.

name of your meanest muse: Mafalda. She’s just very bratty, arrogant, and rude; even if her arrogance is somewhat justified by her academics. She’s capable of playing nice if she considers you an “equal”, Hermione being a bit of an exception, but she’s just quite a lot to deal with. She’s not on the level of like Bellatrix or Alecto and she’s not a blood purist or anything like that - the exact opposite considering the fact that her parents are a Muggle and a Squib, meaning she’s a half-blood - it’s just that she’s... very mean lmao

name of your nicest muse: Grisha! God, Grisha is just... so nice and friendly man, and I mean that’s part of the reason why she gets fucked over, but yeah, she’s like pretty sociable and easy to get along with. It doesn’t mean she’s perfect by any means, she’s a Gryffindor through-and-through, both the good and the bad. But why be a dick when you can just be generally nice to people and treat them well for free?

name of your most troubled muse: Leta without a doubt. You don’t have the kind of backstory that they have and go through the shit they have without coming out of it at least a little bit troubled. And Leta has a lot of shit to deal with.

character you have the most muse for atm: Leta, but that’s no surprise.

two of your muses that would never get along: Man, I honestly don’t know. I feel like any one of them would maybe clash initially but then eventually come to work out their differences and shit and come to an understanding. But for the sake of it, maybe Grisha and Mafalda? She’d just be like “why can’t you just be kinder to people?” and Mafalda would wallow in teenage angst, or something.

two of your muses that could be best friends: Leta and Grisha? They’re both pretty different people but opposites attract and all of that. Plus they could bond over their pretty drastic but mutual experiences with Voldemort/Tom. And Grisha would definitely feel sorry for Leta and their unfortunate circumstance. Yeah, I do feel like they’d get along.

two of your muses that would make a cute couple: On the same topic, Leta and Grisha? Then again, it’s also more of the fact that Leta and Grisha are closer in age than either of them with Mafalda lmao But yeah, for the same reasons that I stated above.

two of your muses that are most similar: Leta and Malalda? They both had to grapple with issues concerning their identities and place expectations on themselves in different ways.

name of the muse you’d be best friends with irl: Grisha, probably. I’ve already talked about how nice she is and stuff, but also IRL I’ve just often gotten along and become friends with people way more extroverted. So you know, that’s just how it goes lmao

name of the muse you’d probably hate irl: Mafalda, I guess? If we were both in highschool at the same time, at least. I mean, I’ve met a few girls similar to Mafalda when I was in highschool, and I wasn’t exactly their biggest fans. Hate is a strong word, tho.

a faceclaim you’ve been eager to use: Holly Earl is a big one, fell in love with her as Erica Mason in the 2019 FMV video game Erica. She’s super pretty in it. Also whichever one I eventually choose for my Squib Slughorn journalist, because I have a lot of them lined up for her.

Tagging:  anyone who wants to!

[lostgirllesbian]

Welcome To My TED Talk About Queenie Goldstein

First thing’s first 

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS!!

SPOILERS INCOMING FOR FANTASTIC BEASTS: THE CRIMES OF GRINDELWALD!!

If you’re still reading I assume you either know about the direction Queenie’s character has gone or don’t know and just want to be spoiled. 

Queenie quickly became my favorite character after I saw the first Fantastic Beasts movie. She was interesting, a perfect foil for Tina, and while it would have been easy to write her off as the pretty character she proved to be more than just that, and not just because of her Legilimency but also her ability to see the best in people, especially when they can’t see it in themselves. She proves this with not only Jacob but also the small moment she has with Newt and talking about Leta Lestrange.

The direction Jo took her character in Crimes of Grindelwald is one of the most infuriating moments I’ve experienced as a fan of the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. I was sitting in my seat in the theater crying because I was sad yes, but more because I was angry. Now I will list the reasons why everything that happened with Queenie in CoG was total and complete bullshit. I don’t care how persuasive and alluring Grindelwald is, Queenie would never join him. 

1. Her Ilvermorny house

Queenie was a Pukwudgie, the house that is said to represent Heart. This makes sense when you think of how Queenie is able to see the best in people as well as follow her heart. However, Pukwudgie’s are also “fiercely independent”. Queenie also proves her independence in the first Fantastic Beasts movie when she rescues Jacob from being obliviated by Abernathy, when she breaks into Graves office, when she tries to leave Jacob to help Tina and Newt with Credence and other areas. She is following her own independent streak while also following her heart and trying to save people she cares about. 

Queenie also would also never enchant Jacob because of all the reasons I listed above as well. Yes, Tina disapproving of their relationship would have been upsetting to Queenie but if she had been written correctly she would have done her best to show her sister that the Ministry was wrong, just like they were wrong about Credence. 

2. Her Legilimency

Queenie is outed very early in the first movie as a Legilimens and we’re shown that her ability is almost second nature to her. We never see her cast a spell to read anyone’s thoughts her power seems innate. In CoG we see her get overwhelmed by this power in Paris which didn’t make sense to me in the first place. She is surrounded by crowds of people every day in New York City and she never gets overwhelmed. I can chalk up the incident to her being emotional and distraught over her situation with Jacob. That brings us to her savior and her first encounter with Grindelwald. With her ability she should be able to see what he and his followers have done, the people they’ve killed, the horrible crimes they have committed. If she isn’t able to, that is never stated or explained. It is possible (though unlikely) that Grindelwald and everyone around him are practiced in Occulmency and Queenie wasn’t able to read their thoughts but that is an assumption. For the sake of argument let’s say that isn’t the case and ask, why would Queenie go along with these people who are so clearly evil? 

3. Tina

At the beginning of CoG Queenie states that she and Tina aren’t talking because of Jacob (I am angry enough about this but am going to go past it for now) However, Queenie goes to find Tina after her fight with Jacob meaning that she was trying to make up with Tina or at least talk to her. When she goes to the French Ministry she is clearly upset at not being able to find her sister. With Tina’s job as an Auror and her own job at MACUSA Queenie is aware of Grindelwald’s history and her sister’s role in fighting him. Tina is the only family Queenie has left and after everything she did to save her in the first movie, she would never turn her back on her like she did in this movie.

4. Jacob 

I know that anyone who wants to defend the choices Jo wrote for Queenie will bring up Jacob as her reason for joining Grindelwald

Fuck that!

From the beginning the relationship we all loved between Queenie and Jacob was totally screwed over. 

I was happy when we were told that Queenie found Jacob and helped to restore his memory. That fit with the last we saw of both these characters. However, after that moment it is clear that something is off. When Newt lets the audience know Jacob is enchanted I was automatically up in arms. 

Queenie cared about Jacob enough to try and stop him from walking out into the obviliating rain, she cared enough about him to find him and help him remember everything they went through. She wouldn’t just turn around and put him under a spell knowing that 1. he wasn’t really going to leave her and 2. he doesn’t have any magic to fight back with. 

Queenie brought Jacob to London because the laws there are different and she would have been able to be with him and start a family so why didn’t she just tell him that and get him to go willingly to London? She was frantic to find him when she heard his voice but once she had her encounter with Grindelwald it seemed like she forgot about him completely. That doesn’t make any sense to me given their relationship and the fact that Queenie can’t find Tina. 

When she and Jacob are finally reunited she wants to say and listen to Grindelwald, seemingly uninterested in Jacob at all, even though he’s the reason she’s listening to all of Grindelwald’s talk. Then comes the moment that inspired my rant, the moment Queenie chose to leave Jacob behind. She wanted him to follow her, forgetting that because he is a muggle, he can’t. 

This is the Queenie who wanted to run away with Jacob instead of losing him. The Queenie who found him again after he had his memory erased. The Queenie who said there was no one else like him. She turned her back on him and walked away and that is something Queenie would never have done. 

First of all Queenie and Tina are half-bloods, which means somewhere there is a Muggle in their family (how that is possible with MACUSA’s laws I don’t know. I assume their parents came over from somewhere in Europe) one of their parents could be a Muggle, or one pureblood and one muggleborn, or both of their parents could be halfboods too. It doesn't really matter how they are half-bloods but what does matter is the direct link to a muggle in their family somehow. That means Queenie should have never bought into the Pureblood ideology that was being spewed.

Gindelwald didn’t promise her anything, he only said that non magic people were “different” or “not inferior” that doesn’t mean he sees them as equals or will give Queenie the ability to be with Jacob. He’s simply being vague and Jo is changing Queenie’s character to allow her to buy into his speech.

In Fantastic Beasts, Queenie Goldstein is a warm and caring witch. A young woman who loves and cares deeply, has a mind of her own, is brave and intelligent. 

In Crimes of Grindelwald Jo has turned her into some manipulative, mindless, sheep and in my personal opinion I think it’s one of the worst things she’s done as a writer. 

She took a strong female character, that a lot of girls and women (including myself) love and ruined her. Queenie deserved better. 

Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

[kuro-gossips]

Splashes of Colour

Chapter 5: Shades of Yellow

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

He's running down the cobblestone, but it doesn't feel fast enough to escape the reality of what has only just transpired. Newt abruptly halts, leaning on his knees, heaving for breath that doesn't seem to fill his lungs. A hand travels up to wipe the sweat that has gathered on his brow; it isn't until said limb jerks away a second later that he realizes he's crying. He wipes his eyes furiously with his coat sleeve. Newt has never been one to cry easily, but he cannot deny how energetic and relaxed his magic feels at this singular moment. There's such a morbid fascination forming in his mind and it's painful to acknowledge because this is the most alive he's felt in months, and yet he knows that eventually, he will have to process it. There isn't a better time to do it, especially while no one else is around, so he attempts to calm his breathing, slow his heart rate, and tries to sift through the information he's been presented with.

He wonders if his friends and family will still want anything to do with him once they find out that Grindelwald is his soulmate. He wonders if Theseus is obligated to tell the Ministry of said connection, since Grindelwald is Europe's most sought after Dark Wizard. Theseus has always been duty-bound, his sense of justice and his inherent need to abide the law causes Newt to worry. Newt knows that his older brother loves him, wants the best for him, but he also knows that what Theseus thinks is the best for him hardly ever agrees with his own standards of morality. The green-eyed wizard bites his lower lip in trepidation. He hates the Ministry -- he truly does -- their abhorrent methods of dealing with potential threats and problems unnerves him, like how they insisted on sending the world's cruelest beast hunter after a desperate young man, who only seeks a loving family. Newt intuitively understands that they will apply the same policies to his case as well -- Grindelwald spoke the truth in that regard. He continues to worry his lip, the skin growing red and vaguely bruised underneath the pressure of tenacious teeth.

He thinks about the Obscurial boy -- so young, but so frayed at the edges, worn down by the abuse of a woman who was supposed to look after him, to care for him, to nurture him -- Newt grieves at the thought of his upbringing. He thinks if the wizarding society were not forced into the underground and sworn to secrecy that such a scenario would have never arisen. At the same time, he realizes that most non-magical people are not so… accepting; Jacob may be an anomaly amongst them. He's seen their interactions with those with different skin colours, those of other romantic inclinations -- not to mention the Salem witch trials -- and he doubts that a union between the two communities could ever be peaceful. Maybe, just maybe, a strong and charismatic pioneer can usher in a new era with success. Queenie and Jacob would never be prosecuted for wanting to be together -- such backwards laws the Americans have enforced -- and Newt struggles to dissuade himself of Grindelwald's beliefs.

The redhead isn't quite sure he believes that his soulmate actually desires to change the world's outlook on magical creatures, even if he wishes from the bottom of his heart that those words were true. Despite the inner workings of his mind, he still can't shake the feeling that the older man spoke no lies. He wonders if a soulmate bond is sufficient to uncover spoken falsehoods -- it's something he has yet to come across in literature or old wives' tales. He wishes that he had the foresight to ask Theseus about the matter, but it's too late for that now. Newt finds himself hard-pressed not to believe the words that Grindelwald had spouted.

Somehow through all his ponderings, he ends up in a sparsely populated city square with a Wallace fountain in the middle. To his surprise, Newt finds his gaze meeting the equally surprised face of Queenie, who has just stepped out of the entrance to the French Ministry of Magic. The blonde rushes over, as quickly as her heels allow her to, and she envelopes him in a warm embrace. She seems overly distressed. The magizoologist still isn't one for physical contact, but he relaxes a tiny bit in her hug.

"Oh, Newt, honey, I'm so glad I bumped into you." She mutters. When she pulls back, her eyes shimmer with tears. Newt returns her look with a soft smile. "I've been so lost here, you know? Paris is a whole lot bigger than I thought. I've been looking for Tina… but well, you know the whole scuffle between us."

"Actually, I managed to find Tina, and Jacob is here with me as well." The female makes a happy noise at his statement, clapping her hands in excitement. "I think Tina has been searching for Credence here, but come to think of it, I don't think we're on particularly good terms right now…"

"You can be so oblivious, sweetie. I guess that's part of your charm though." Newt waits patiently for her explanation, blankly staring at the Legilimens. He has an idea about what she is hinting at, but Newt would rather Queenie state it plainly. The blonde gives a small sigh, but a fond smile graces her lips as she does, "She likes you, silly!"

The redhead feigns confusion, "I should hope that friends like each other…"

Queenie lets out a laugh that tinkles like bells. Her delicate hand pats the swell of his cheek. "I meant romantically, Newt."

A look of enlightenment crosses over his face and everything he's feared is confirmed: the letters, the constant invitations to return to New York, her inexplicable bitterness towards him since they've reunited in France. He knows Tina is a wonderful woman and any other man would  be lucky to have her as a significant other, but he simply can't return her affections because he's always had a predilection for men -- not to mention the Erumpent constantly on his mind: his soulmate. His cheeks flush and Queenie catches the tail end of his thoughts.

"... Oh, you don't feel the same way." He jerks back from her touch and he tries to dismiss all notions of soulmates from his mind as they are prone to surface whenever someone mentions any sort of romantic relationship, and this garners him a befuddled stare from the woman, the space between her brows furrowing. He avoids her gaze and shakes his head, not wanting to talk about it. She respects his decision, but she also can't help but wonder if Newt was saving himself for his soulmate despite the unlikeliness of actually meeting. She sends a shaky smile his way and attempts to dispel the awkward air. "Well, should we head off to rejoin my dear sister and Jacob?"

Newt's face is one of relief as he agrees. As they head back, black banners descend upon Paris, only visible to those with magic, and the two friends realize that it's Grindelwald's call to rally for his supporters. On the wall of a building nearby, he sees the image of a raven unfurl with a map to Père Lachaise Cemetery. Queenie and him exchange a look; there's no doubt in his mind that anyone who's important to the cause will be present. With Grindelwald's pursuit of Credence, Newt is sure the boy will be in attendance as well. The two race off to reconvene at Flamel's house.

***

Unfortunately for the portly Muggle baker, Newt has forgotten to pick up any food for the man in all the chaos. He is greeted by Jacob's disappointed face as he strides through the door -- an apology is on the tip of Newt's tongue -- but he visibly brightens at the sight of Queenie, cheeks straining with happiness. All thoughts of food leave his mind. The man is currently nursing a bump on his head, and Newt distinctly notices the lack of the man that had trapped them in the sewers earlier. The dark-skinned wizard must have escaped by taking Jacob by surprise. Queenie and Jacob embrace each other tightly -- eager to seek comfort -- and both looking like they want to cry.

"Jacob! Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. I never should've said those things. I love you so much--" Queenie starts.

The short man replies, "And you know I love you, right?"

Unfortunately, there are more pressing issues at hand, so Newt must regrettably interrupt. Green eyes glance around for the missing party in their reunion and Newt asks, "Sorry, but… where's Tina?"

Jacob fidgets a bit, seemingly nervous, "Oh, uh, she left shortly after you, Newt. Something about heading off to the Ministry."

The magizoologist looks thoughtful, like he's considering her reasoning for leaving so suddenly and abandoning Jacob to fend for himself while there was a wizard with unknown intentions on the premises. Queenie just appears to be worried for the safety of her sister, especially with Grindelwald's rally on the horizon. There's something incorporeal tugging at the corners of his mind, but Newt ignores it as he says, "Grindelwald is calling all his followers to the Lestrange Mausoleum tonight. If we hope to find Tina, I have no doubt she will be there looking for Credence."

The blonde witch shoots him a nervous glance. She's heard too many rumours about the terrible deeds of the Dark Lord's disciples -- she hopes Tina won't be there in the heat of things, but she also knows her sister all too well.

When darkness begins to descend upon Paris, the three of them head out.

***

To her surprise, Tina runs into Britain's Head Auror at the French Ministry and the two realize they have similar interests regarding Grindelwald and Credence. He introduces himself as Theseus Scamander, Newt's older brother in the flesh, and beside him is the pretty woman who she's been jealous of for months, Leta Lestrange. It bothers her that Leta is overtly "friendly" with her so-called fiancé's brother -- the hand delicately laying atop his bicep, the smitten doe eyes she turns on to Theseus -- she is disgusted that this woman has the guts to do something so horrendous to a sweet man like Newt. As if the dark-skinned woman can feel her hatred, her gaze swivels to meet Tina's, confusion sparkling in her rich brown eyes. The American snubs the other woman by ignoring her questioning look and focusing on Theseus. She doesn't like the man much either because he seems to accept Leta's affections without question, but at least he has something interesting to say.

The British wizard wears a more serious disposition as soon as he mentions Grindelwald, "Ms. Goldstein, I believe I know where Grindelwald and his following are going to be convening."

Tina raises a dark eyebrow, unsure of where the Auror received his intel from -- something that he is quick to notice and address.

"Leta found this note in place of the Lestrange family records at the Ministry archives." Theseus shows the parchment with the Deathly Hallows symbol -- Grindelwald's sigil -- atop of it and a brief message detailing that the document has been moved to Père Lachaise.

"Everyone seems to think that Credence is the lost son of the Lestrange family, is there any possibility there's some truth to--" The brunette begins asking, but an acerbic voice cuts through the conversation.

"No." The shorter woman's brows are furrowed in anger and she raps her clenched fist on his chest. "My brother is dead. He died."

Her fiancé places a comforting hand on her shoulder as he speaks, "I know, Leta." The former Slytherin swivels to face him, her hand gripping the sleeve of his jacket, knuckles white. "I know and the records-- the records will prove it. They can't lie."

"If that's the case, then who is he?" Tina thinks out loud, her voice quiet and unsure. Leta shakes her head and tells her that she doesn't know the answer to that question. "I never asked, but I assume Newt is probably here to track down Credence as well… He needs to know."

The American Auror wants to inform the other Scamander of many things, not just Credence's lack of identity as a Lestrange. Her focus is drawn back to reality as Theseus lets out a sound of surprise at her statement. In truth, he should have known that Newt would find a way around the international travel ban. "Newt is in Paris?"

"You didn't know?" Tina looks equally shocked when the other Scamander shakes his head.

"He's not even supposed to be traveling internationally. The Ministry banned him after the whole fiasco in New York."

"But-- but that wasn't even his fault!" The American witch is baffled and slightly outraged. Newt's brother gives a sound of agreement. From the raw emotions colouring her voice, Theseus concludes that Tina has some sort of romantic inclination towards his sibling. He blinks slowly as a thought crosses his mind: is she the reason Newt had been asking them about soulmates? If he had met his soulmate in New York, it might have made sense that he had felt weak from being so far apart. He exchanges a glance with his fiancée and instantly, he can tell that she's reached a similar conclusion.

"Well, in all honesty, I should have-- we should have seen this coming, don't you agree, Leta? Newt's never been one for rules."

Leta chuckles amusedly, her face smoothing out as she momentarily forgets the rumours about her dead brother. The engaged couple notice that Tina's furrowed brow at their bantering. The Lestrange witch has never been one to shy away from being upfront with things, so without hesitation, she asks, "Do you have an issue with something, Ms. Goldstein?"

Tina looks a little taken off-guard as she stutters, "Uh, no, not-- not at all..." Leta's insistent stare is enough for her to crack though. "It's just-- aren't you and Newt engaged? And-- and you're here blatantly flirting with his older brother!"

Theseus becomes affronted at her increasing volume, temper hot as usual, but his fiancée is quick to intervene before things spiral out of control. "Oh, no, I fear you've been mistaken. Newt and I aren't-- we've never been engaged. It's Theseus and I who are to wed. Newt is to be best man."

The American Auror's face reddens at the misunderstanding. She abashedly averts her gaze and mutters out an apology. Theseus is silently glad that Leta is his better half and isn't as quick to rise to a fight as he is because he knows if he was allowed to act freely, there might have been an international incident.

"You fancy him, don't you?" Leta slyly adds, a mischievous grin sliding over her face. Tina only gets more flushed at her accusation, but doesn't refute.

A couple of moments of silence pass, before it's broken by the older Scamander brother, "Well, I hate to get serious amidst all the teasing, but nighttime is falling and we should make our way towards Père Lachaise." He ushers the two females to go ahead without him; he still needs to organize his Aurors for the raid tonight.

***

Tina recognizes the man that had deceived her and trapped her in an underground passage when Leta and her walk through the entrance of the Lestrange tomb. She spots Credence and a thin Asian woman huddling in the corner, looking afraid at the wand pointed toward them. The pale woman is standing slightly in front of Credence, protective. They have arrived just in time, it seems.

"I do not wish to kill you, but if you insist on getting in the way, I will do what I must." Kama explains, "You see, either you die, Credence... or I do."

Leta hurriedly exclaims, "WAIT!"

A spell had been on the tip of Kama's tongue, but he halts and turns to face the newcomers. His features morph into shock. "Is that you? My sister?"

The aforementioned witch is confused, but she doesn't bat an eyelash at his question. "He is not who you think he is..." She seems pained to admit this.

"So, is it true? I am... Corvus Lestrange?" Credence tests the name out, but the dark-skinned female shakes her head.

"No, my brother is dead."

Kama stares at her, disbelievingly. "But it is like the Predictions of Tycho Dodonus said, 'a son cruelly banished, despair of the daughter, return, great avenger with wings from the water.' There--" The Senegalese man gestures towards Leta, before continuing on his tirade, "-- stands the despairing daughter. You are the winged raven returned from the sea, but I-- I am the avenger of my family's ruin."

Leta refuses to her anymore talk of Corvus and finally, she explodes with a despaired scream, "My brother is already dead! I killed him!"

Her sobs echo throughout the stone room as she reiterates how she switched infants on the sinking ship, only for her brother to be swept under the current and drown. The image of a babe clothed in a white sheet conjures and everyone watches as it slowly descends deeper into the ocean. Kama finally lowers his wand, looking dejected that he could not fulfill his promise to his late father.

Tina can see the desperation in Credence's eyes when he asks, "Then who am I if I am not Corvus Lestrange? Do you know?"

The Lestrange woman is astute and realizes his need for an identity, but she cannot provide the answer he seeks. The woman accompanying him gently strokes his back in comfort. In the fallout, the ominous scraping of a hidden door opening resounds throughout, garnering everyone's attention. They can all hear the booming of the masses gathering in the auditorium beneath them. Glances are exchanged between those present, before they cautiously descend the stairs.

The auditorium is filled with wizards and witches alike, from all different nationalities. The chatter is deafening. Somehow the group that had entered together split up and is now scattered across the mausoleum. Leta and Tina are still together, looking around, one of them anxious and the other worried.

"Teenie!" A cheerful voice calls to her over the gathered audience; it's Queenie, and Jacob is next to her. They're standing in one of the rows of benches, arms intertwined, right by the aisle of stairs leading down to the centre. Tina doesn't need Legilimency to know her sister is sorry for leaving so abruptly after their argument. "We thought we might find you here."

"Queenie." The elder Goldstein lets out a sigh of relief at the sight of her. The sisters embrace tightly, Jacob is tittering off on the side, his eyes darting back and forth between the magical folk. Leta smiles slightly at their reunion. "I don't suppose you've come with Newt, have you?"

"Oh, he was here... We lost track of him, but he's around somewhere..." Queenie trails off thoughtfully as she glances around, but she can't see their redheaded friend -- there's simply too many people. She takes notice of the dark-skinned witch standing awkwardly -- and somehow, still regal -- next to Tina. "Miss Lestrange, right? I'm Queenie, Teenie's sister. And this is Jacob."

Leta appears surprised at the introduction, but she greets the Legilimens and the Muggle cordially. Jacob jolts, suddenly remembering that he has friends surrounding him. He shakes the British woman's hand.

"Nice to meet you."

The four of them realize that there are a couple of wizards, probably part of Grindelwald's movement, eyeing them intently, dauntingly approaching them, and wordlessly pushing them into a row with others. They attempt to avoid the goons, but the group of brutish wizards have fenced them in, and now they have no choice but to step in line. Leta catches sight of Newt across the way, both of their eyes widening slightly. Newt is blocked in by some important-looking wizards and witches, unable to move.

The auditorium falls silent as footsteps echo throughout the mausoleum, each step with purpose and meaning. Grindelwald emerges from the darkness of a corridor. Applause and cheering slowly build up from the audience until the man reaches the stage. They quieten down again as he begins speaking, "My brothers, my sisters, my friends... The great gift of your applause is not for me." Sounds of disapproval emit from the crowd. "No, it is for yourselves."

"You came today because of a craving and a knowledge that the old ways serve us no longer. You come today because you crave something new, something different." The Dark Lord's voice is captivating, like a priest is at a sermon, "It is said that I hate Les Non-Magiques. The Muggles. The No-Maj. The Can't-Spells."

The crowd jeers and hisses, yelling obscenities about the non-magical, but the man at the centre of attention is quick to dispel their uproar.

"I do not hate them; I do not. For I do not fight out of hatred. I say that the Muggles are not lesser, but other. Not worthless, but of other value. Not disposable, but of a different disposition." A beat passes. "Magic blooms only in rare souls. It is granted to those who live for higher things. Oh, and what a world we could make, for all humanity. We who live for freedom--" Grindelwald stares pointedly at the magizoologist -- something that worries Leta to no end because the man is planning something -- before continuing, "-- for truth, and most importantly, for love."

Queenie lets out a soft noise and none of them are sure how to interpret it.

"While I was held captive by MACUSA, they spent hours each day for weeks, torturing me for information. What kind of 'good' or 'just' institution would do such barbaric things?"

Newt recalls those days with a sickening dread settling in his stomach. And yet, he did nothing to stop it either -- not that he could anyway.

Grindelwald lifts his arms, gesturing to the masses. "Things that they have previously claimed that I am not adverse to, that we are not adverse to. They are an institution built upon lies. MACUSA is not the only one, of course. All these Ministries around the world are alike. And yet, they are quick to insinuate that we are the ones in the wrong. I say, it is not we!"

The room erupts into loud agreement. Vinda appears behind him, carrying an ominous looking skull with a hookah attached to it. Grindelwald announces that he is going to share a vision he had seen of the future. The Dark Lord takes the proffered skull, inhales deeply, and breathes out a plume of smoke. The picture that is painted by the smoke is absolutely terrifying. It's a massacre. Dead bodies litter the ground and at the centre of the room, a hefty explosion shakes the ground. They all stare in horror. Murmurs break out.

"That is what we are fighting! Their arrogance, their lust for power, their savagery. How long before they turn their weapons against us?" His mismatched eyes glint in the dim lighting and he cautions the crowd, "Do not be alarmed. There are Aurors among us."

There is a wave of shocked gasps, people frantically looking at their neighbours, fearing that the enemy was close. "My brothers, step into the light. Join us."

Despite being on different sides of the amphitheatre, Newt, Tina, and Leta can see Theseus and his gaggle of Aurors begrudgingly move toward Grindelwald. They see the Head Auror say something to his team, but they are too far away to make sense of it. The man smirks. One of the younger wizards has his hand laying on top of where his wand is sheathed, a nervous tick giving away his anxiety. There is a young copper-haired woman standing in the front row, her eyes are narrowed in anger and the pale-haired man knows he can take advantage of the two of them.

"They have killed many of my followers, it is true. They have struck down many of their fellow witches and wizards for the simple crime of seeking the truth, for wanting freedom. Your anger -- your need for revenge -- is natural." The witch he had been eyeing moves to whip out her wand, but the Auror is ready, and the girl drops dead to the floor. Grindelwald makes a sound of despair as he stalks towards the fallen body. He kneels beside her, arranges her limbs, and strokes her hair, tucking a bright-coloured strand behind her rapidly cooling ear."My poor child."

He stands up from his position, striding back to the stage, and there is an undertone of rage when he speaks again, "Go! Go and spread the word that it was not we who committed such atrocious actions this night." The sound of Apparition thrums as wizards and witches disappear one after another. The British Aurors move on Theseus' command, ready to take the man by force. Grindelwald spins in a circle, muttering a spell, "Protego diabolica." Scorching blue flames emerge from his wand tip and many of those that remain flinch back from the heat.

"Aurors, join me in this circle. Pledge to me your eternal allegiance. Only here shall you know freedom, only here shall you know yourself. Join me... or die." The man states. He is pleased when he sees a couple of them run through the flames, unharmed. Vinda marches to join him in the circle, looking smug. The Dark Lord waves the Elder Wand as if he were conducting a symphony. Some of the Aurors that had come with Theseus try to Apparate, but just as they look like they are successful, streams of fire hit their bodies, ash trickling down. "Play by the rules, children."

There is a wicked grin stretching Grindelwald's lips. Krall attempts to walk through the flames, only to burn up with a screech of pain. Neither Grindelwald nor Rosier are surprised. Now, the only ones that are left are Newt, still standing too far from the rest of them, Tina, Leta, Queenie, Jacob, Theseus, Kama, Credence, and Nagini. Queenie seems mildly hypnotized by Grindelwald's words, but Jacob snaps her out of it with ease. Tina shoots him a grateful look. The flames continue to dance and spread, forcing many of them to retreat back. Credence struggles with his friend for a brief moment before he breaks away from her grasp and approaches Grindelwald. He stops just shy of the flaming circle.

"Credence, my boy." He gestures grandly with his arms spread wide open. "You know I have the answers you seek. Come with me and I will instill this knowledge upon you."

The Barebone teenager glances over his shoulder at Nagini, his one friend in this world, but the offer is too tempting. Finally, he takes the last couple of steps and passes through the flames without issue. Vinda takes his arm and Apparates. Newt and Tina stare at where he once stood, gazes heavy with sadness. Theseus jogs up to where the group is, spotting his brother a ways away.

"Newt..." Theseus whispers, perpetually worried for him; the same look is reflected back to him on his brother's face. Everyone's attention returns to the Dark Lord who has yet to leave. That smirk has not left his face and they eye him with varying degrees of distrust. The blue flames he has summoned surround them, crackling ferociously as the heat threatens to flay them alive. The older Scamander brother moves to join Newt, but a wall of fire interrupts his gait; he can see the look of glee that spreads over Grindelwald's face. Theseus realizes that Grindelwald has some ulterior motive regarding his sibling. His face conveys his horror and his blue eyes search frantically for a route to Newt.

"Mr. Scamander, do you think Dumbledore will mourn for you?" This question stirs everything into a frenzy, both in the mausoleum in Newt's mind.

"Newt! Grindelwald is up to something--!" Theseus warns, but before he can finish, the wizard has already Apparated next to Newt. The younger British man's head turns slowly, too slowly for Theseus' liking, to face the other. Newt's breath hitches in surprise at his soulmate's sudden appearance. Grindelwald isn't rough when he grabs his forearm -- dare he even say, gentle? -- the heat from his grip is comforting, familiar, and it takes all of Newt's willpower to resist leaning into the other's touch. When they are standing this close to each other, they can see opposing pupils dilate as a wave of pleasure washes over them and their breathing deepens in unison. A tear slides down the swell of Newt's cheek at the sensation. It is exhilarating to be in the same vicinity of each other and it's as if time has temporarily halted as they share a look that says more than words ever could. It's as if the Dark wizard knows exactly what effect such close proximity and physical contact has on the magizoologist, but he cannot deny how liberating it feels, how power courses through his veins like lightning. Lightning so similar to, yet completely different on so many levels, from the electricity that ran through him in New York a mere nine months ago. A shiver runs down the redhead's spine and his green eyes flutter shut for a second longer than he would have liked.

The moment is broken by Theseus' enraged yelling, a nasty snarl on his face, a hint of confusion at their mysterious exchange, "Get away from my brother, your narcissistic bastard! I swear if you hurt him--"

The older Scamander furiously slams spell after spell at the flames that barricade him in, completely in vain because every ounce of magic he shoots out is neutralized by them, as he tries to reach his sibling. Grindelwald doesn't even spare Theseus a glance, the corners of his mouth tilting upward as he maintains eye contact with the redhead in front of him.

"NEWT!" Theseus is terrified that he is going to watch him die in from of him and he won't have been able to do anything about it. His voice, brittle with emotion, is getting hoarser with every shout that escapes his mouth. He can hear a cacophony of other voices joining him in calling out to Newt. He is not the only one who cares for the magizoologist, after all.

"Run, Newt!" Tina screams from across the auditorium, horror abject across her face and desperate to grab his attention. She cannot lose him after coming so close to saving Credence, only for him to step through the fiery barrier. Leta's voice joins hers.

Leta yells, "No! Grindelwald, stop! Please--" Her voice breaks, the plead on the tip of her tongue. She almost wants to beg the Dark Lord to take her instead. Not Newt, anyone but him.

Grindelwald simply bares his teeth in an imitation of a smile at them. He brushes a strand of hair behind the freckled man's ear, caressing the others cheek in the process, before leaning into whisper in said ear, "What is your answer, Mr. Scamander? Did I lie to you?"

Newt feels mildly intoxicated when he feels the other's breath against his earlobe. He can't think straight, he can't remember anyone besides his soulmate, but he remembers what they had discussed only hours ago. He remembers the promises that Grindelwald made and his stipulations about the Ministry's abuse of power if they were to discover his intimate connection with the Dark Lord.

Newt hesitates briefly, swallowing down his fear and his tongue darts out to wet his lips, but he finally has a response for the man, "... No. No, you weren't lying." His free hand clasps at the smooth fingers of his soulmate and they both can feel their magic co-mingling and swelling in vigour now that Newt has accepted his fate, regardless of his reservations. The blue flames surge as a result of an increase of magical force, becoming even more wild and uncontrollable in nature. The azure fire obscures them from view of those left in the mausoleum. Grindelwald takes the opportunity to retreat back slightly and plant a solitary kiss on the younger's cheek -- merely a brush of lips. Newt lets out a shocked noise that turns into one of appreciation as he feels the thrum of power coursing through his body.

Gellert pulls back fully, hands interlaced with each other and Newt's glowing green eyes on him, The Dark Lord asks, "Shall we?" He takes care to dispel the protective spell before he Apparates the two of them out.

When the flames dissipate, there is no trace of the two that once stood there and screams of Newt's name echo in the empty amphitheatre.

[hunterartemis]

The Assistant: (Appendix 2): The Making of Maxine Valois

Like many fanfiction writers, I spend a lot of time thinking about forming different types of Original Character, and the drafts I have mentally done for Maxine was difficult each time. I have noticed from my habits that I spend a lot of time thinking about what the character looks like and not how the character feels. In terms of Maxine it was completely opposite--I had basic features in my mind, Long and black wavy hair arranged everyday in flapper-style chignon, silk clothes, tall and willowy, pale, sharp and symmetrical features, thin lips and black eyes.

“What’s in a name“? well, when it comes to my story or when I am writing--everything? I had spend a lot of time to name my OC. My first thoughts were really stupid, I went from 1920′s names to classic French names, but none matched her temper, thus I looked into some Latin names feeling that I should make her lineage a little more prominent. My choices were Claudia, Dido, Aurelia, however they sounded too serious; suddenly it clicked that Maxine sounds very regal and powerful, while ‘Max’ sounds very modern, tomboyish and playful which summer up her character in my mind. Coincidentally Letter M and N comes one after another.

Her surname is Valois, in French it means “from the valley”. The Valois name is historically relevant, and I characterise the family as the authoritarian oppression of society on women. Both the houses where Maxine was born and lived were former prisons. This signified that her entire life has been spent as a prisoner--something that clashed with the name ‘Maxine’: the greatest.

I had given her three names: Maxine, Adrienne and Odessa, each representing three aspects of her characters. “Maxine” means ‘greatest‘, ‘Adrienne’ is a French name meaning ‘dark‘ and ‘Odessa’ is just a female version of Odysseus. The Second Epilogue of The Assistant was the homage to her ‘Odessa’ name: Nostoi, on in Greek “homecoming“. When she was born, she was not welcome in her father’s home, neither in the three schools she studied: Durmstrang, Hogwarts and Mahoutokoro, nor in her Auror office as Theseus’ Vice Head, nor as Newt’s lover--a role she sought after so greatly. Her homecoming was possible by acknowledging her feelings for Theseus which she ran from which resulted her encounter with Newt.

The name “Adrienne” seems quite non-symbolic in my story, but this name was specially implemented by me with a very specific intention. ‘Adrienne’ is the French variation of the Greek name ‘Ariadne’. The most popular versions of Ariadne is ‘Ariana’ and ‘Adriana’ but I didn’t want that. The reason I selected one of Maxine’s middle name after Ariadne needs to be elaborated with the myth surrounding Ariadne.  Ariadne was the daughter of Minos, the King of Crete, who helped King Theseus cross the Maze to kill the Minotaur. After the matter was over Theseus had a brief relationship with Ariadne. He abandoned her leaving her deeply heartbroken for the Amazon Queen Hippolyta. 

JK conspicuously sneaks Greek and Roman myths into HP stories. The dynamics of Leta, Newt and Theseus seemed very ‘mythlike’ to me.By remaining Virgins fro perpetuity, Amazons sacrifice their motherhood which was quite symbolic in Leta’s mistake that killed Corvus Lestrange. Leta could easily be the diminutive of ‘Hippolyta’ the Amazon Queen. Amazons are loyal to both Artemis and Ares, which can easily be compared with Leta’s earlier attachment to Newt, (One of Newt’s middle name is ‘Artemis’). Hippolyta’s status of getting married to Theseus is a transition from Virginity to the subjugated of a King, which can easily be seen in Leta X Newt and Leta X Theseus.

How does Maxine fall in the story? King Theseus abandoned Ariadne for Hippolyta, and Ariadne was loved by Dionysus, God of Wine and revels. Maxine, just after her full name was revealed, was already showed falling drunk on the floor. Her usual material ‘excesses’ is very Dionysian in nature. After their rift with Theseus, Maxine sought comfort in her usual ‘excesses’ because I had imagined that’s what an ‘abandoned’ Ariadne would do. I also often wondered what if King Theseus repented and Ariadne caused him pain just to get a revenge on him? The union symbolizes penance of Theseus for abandoning Ariadne. 

It is not only for narrative sake, the ‘Ariadne’ name also describes Maxine’s nature. Ariadne is associated with threads and Mazes; Maxine is deliberately seen messing and tangling with the threads of relationships--profession, familial, sexual and romantic. Ariadne, with her thread left a trail throughout the maze which would later help King Theseus to get out of the maze. Maxine was proposed by Theseus right after Leta’s death. Maxine broke it off and Theseus followed her trail to her first in Newt’s apartment and second in Japan--wherever Newt and Maxine were--Theseus was always present--either physically or mentally. Her character is the most confusing array of emotional mazes. I would describe her character as ‘onion-like’: there is mask after mask: under the face of Audrey there was Maxine; under a face of employee was a crushing lover; under an envious woman was a desperate want of love... if all the masks are removed, there will be nothing left--she is essentially a hollowed out creature. 

“Tricksters“ are abundant in literature and media. We have Loki, Joker etc. who are often identified with this type: physically not very strong but highly intelligent who challenges the norms of society just to prove that strength, beauty and authority isn’t everything. We don’t often associate women when it comes to this particular archetype and this made me think about it--women can be mischievous and equally chaotic when they want to so why not! In 1920′s when women can either be Flapper party girl or a modest matron, I chose Maxine as someone different. I imagine her to be capable of walking into a party into her lingerie just to irk the “uptight official people“. Her very introduction is the testimony of her Tricksterdom--she challenges and fools the authority (Theseus) in the support of the Alternative (Newt), she combines her intellectualism with her sexuality, a point which makes Theseus readily fluster around her: snatching his wand and suggesting that she had concealed it between her breasts is not only standard-defying but also an open declaration of feminine sexuality; furthermore she later threatens that she will have Theseus’ wand “for realment”-- it could indicate either “real wand“ (indicating Theseus’ manhood) or “wand“ ‘for real‘. This play of words is so ambiguous that it makes the hearer confused and unpredictable.

It has been indicated that Maxine’s upbringing was very strict where she was constantly reminded of her inferior status: her illegitimate birth. This made her dissociate with her family and compelled her to spend more and more time developing the ways to defy them. This not only brought signs of magic in early age, but made her the innovator that she was. I imagine that she would spend her days creating spells to trick people or to harm people but also to keep her busy in the head. Tricksters are often very imaginative as their character requires it. However in one manner Maxine defers from the Trickster type. Tricksters never change in their heart; they are constant reminder that Exceptions Exist. However a change in heart occurs when she sees her mother and father being killed in front of her, which made her realise that like dynastic curse she will end up finishing herself and Newt in the process. She surrenders and accepts her punishment, something a trickster will never do. At the end she finds the reasons to submit, something she defied doing for so long, but her triumph comes when she almost scares the wedding guests and the groom Theseus to death by answering to the wedding vows “or do I?”

When we are talking about how ‘trickster-ish’ Maxine is, her name “Odessa” is meant to be under scrutiny. Homer’s Odysseus is considered a Trickster hero, whose wickedness of fooling Polyphemus cost him twenty years of detention in the sea. Maxine’s wickedness had cost her too: expulsion from Durmstrang (for murders she committed under Anatole’s manipulations), transfer from Hogwarts to Mahoutokoro (before she finished her Seventh year; only after her detention in Mahoutokoro she gets the graduation from Hogwarts), persecutions at her job etc. More than her it had cost other people: it almost got Newt, Theseus and Tina killed, imprisoned and off their jobs, the Bulgarian secretary in the party was hurt by her and Charlemagne almost lost his job (and life) for her. Her actions patronised people like Anatole who kept feeding off Maxine’s weakness and assumed British Ministry office using her as a bait. However despite all the facts, she continued to use cunning, manipulation and a pretended innocent facade to get to “home”, like Homer’s Trickster hero Odysseus did.