Archive of Our Own ^beta

“(y/n) (l/n).”

Your eyes became as wide as saucers. Everyone was looking at you. Everyone. Because everybody looks at the first-years when their names are called. Even you watched intently when your fellow classmates were called up to sit in front of the entire school and placed into their respected houses. Except now, it was your turn. 

“Would (y/n) (l/n) please come forward.”

The head of Gryffindor house peered at the sea of young witches and wizards in search for you. It took much of your strength to move your legs. Judgmental eyes followed your every move. The crowd parted for you, leading you straight to the intimidating stool where you would be sorted into your own house.

You sat down on the uncomfortable seat and faced the other students. It sounded like a drum was pounding in your ear, but it was just your heart beating exceptionally loud. You felt the sorting hat on your head and you closed your eyes, waiting for your judgment.

“I see!” The gravelly voice of the sorting hat bellowed. “Very peculiar, yes. A head-strong witch; a trait best suited for Gryffindor, no? Mmmm, yet I could see you do well in Slytherin house, of that I’m sure. Hmmm. Yes, very difficult to say... The house you belong to is neither Slytherin nor Gryffindor. Now it is very clear. I know just where to put you! Hufflepuff!”

Cheers and applause filled the hall and you opened your eyes to see students smiling up at you. The most excited group of students were those who sat at the Hufflepuff table. You felt yourself smile back at them. When the sorting hat was lifted off your head, you gladly made your way to their table.

You were greeted with grins, handshakes, and pats on the shoulder. You sat down next to the red-headed boy sorted into Hufflepuff before you. You went to greet him but he wasn’t looking at you. His head was down and intently focused on his hands in his lap.

“Hello.” You held out your hand for him to shake. “My name is (y/n) (l/n), but you probably already knew that.”

The boy looked at your hand that was extended between you both. “Newt Scamander.”

He didn’t take your hand, causing you to frown. You awkwardly pulled it back, hoping no one else saw the awkward interaction. You were about to give up talking to him when he suddenly held out his cupped hands. You raised your eyebrow, confused by the action, before looking down at them.

He opened them carefully and you let out a surprised yelp. A Ravenclaw girl promptly shushed you for your rude outburst and you flushed from embarrassment. You heard a soft snicker beside you. You turned back to Newt and saw that he had a small smirk painted on his lips.

You roll your eyes but couldn’t suppress your own smile. Looking back down, you examine the small reptilian creature Newt held in his hands.

It was a lizard, that much you knew. You’ve seen many normal lizards before, but never one like this. It had silver-green scales and a row of spikes that started at its neck and ended at its tail.

“What is it?” You ask.

“A moke,” he tells you. “They’re pretty c-common, but they have the ability to shrink at will m...m-making it hard for muggles to see them.”

“How’d you catch it?”

“I saw it trapped between two stones at the... the station,” he stammers. “Its leg was hurt, s-so I took it on the train and hid it in my robe. I was going to care for it and then set it free.”

“That’s very good of you,” you praise.

The table shook and you noticed that another student had been sorted into Hufflepuff. Newt tucked the moke back into his robe and you welcomed the new Hufflepuff girl to your table.

Once all the first-year students were sorted into their houses, the Headmaster congratulated you all and commenced the first dinner. An elaborate feast presented itself to the tables and the students went into a frenzy due to both their awe and hunger.

The various smells hit your nostrils all at once in a mouth-watering wave. You began greedily plopping anything and everything that looked especially delicious onto your plate. You came upon a warm gooey pastry with a dark red filling that you assumed could either be cherry or strawberry; maybe even both. You smiled to yourself because it was a similar shade of red that matched the shy boy’s curly hair. You turned to Newt who had absolutely nothing on his plate. He was too busy sneaking fruits into his robe for the moke to eat. 

You held out the tartlet to him. “You should eat something, or you’ll be hungry later,” you say through a mouth full of food.

Newt took the sweet from your hand and bit into it. He smiled and happily gobbled the rest. A bit of the filling had gotten stuck on the corner of his mouth. You giggled at how silly he looked before handing him a napkin. You shared your dinner with Newt until you were both full of food. The Headmaster gazed over the gluttonous children and decided that it was time to retire for the night. He dismissed the tables, ordering the prefects to escort everyone to the dormitories. 

You hopped on your feet and Newt followed close behind. The two of you walked together towards the back of the Hufflepuff group. On the way to the dorms, Newt told you about his family. He told you about his mother,  who was a hippogriff breeder, and his older brother, Theseus, who was training to become an Auror. 

You told him about your own family in return. You confessed that you came from a family of muggles and that you’d only learned about the wizarding world this past summer, after receiving your letter. 

He asked you many questions about the muggle world and what you did before coming to Hogwarts. To you, muggle life was boring and nothing compared to the wizarding world. However, Newt found it very interesting and asked you many odd questions about your daily activities.

While the two of you were busy conversing, the group had stopped, making Newt accidentally bump into a second-year girl. You steadied him with your hands and apologized on his behalf. Attentive to what your house prefect was saying, you were oblivious to Newt’s current turmoil. 

Your eyes gleamed in awe as the prefect boy opened the tunnel to the Hufflepuff common room. The crowd flooded into the passage in a heap of yellow and blue. You trailed behind, curious as to what lies at the end of the tunnel. A tug on your robe held you back, the rest of the students continued onward, leaving you and your capturer behind. 

You turned to see Newt, who still hadn’t looked at you directly the entire night. “What is it?”

He bowed his head and fiddled with the fabric of his robe. “I lost Squibbles,”  he mumbled, referring to the unique lizard you’d named earlier during dinner.

Your mouth fell agape. “You what?”

“H..H-He m-must’ve gotten... gotten loose when I b-bumped into that girl— I didn’t mean to l-lose him.” 

Your eyes softened at the worked up boy. You could tell he was upset because he stumbled over his words more than usual. He was clenching his fists so tightly, his knuckles turned white. 

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “We’ll find him. He couldn’t have gotten far on his injured leg.”

Your words seemed to ease his nerves, and he nodded. 

“C’mon then,” you smile. “Squibbles needs us.”  

You took Newt’s hand and ran down the corridor in search of the slippery creature. You were rounding the corner when you heard footsteps ahead. You pulled Newt back and pressed your backs against the wall. You felt Newt wiggle his hand in your grasp and you let go, mumbling an awkward apology. A professor walked past you both and continued down the hall until he was out of sight. 

You poke your head around the corner to see if the corridor was clear. Your eyes scan the hall and land upon a familiar silver-green tail stuck between a wooden door. 

“Over there!” The two of you rush down the hall and to the door where your scaley friend had been caught. Newt opened the door and you quickly clasped your hands around Squibbles. 

“He must have tried to shrink under the door and got stuck,” Newt says as he takes the moke from your hands. 

“I’m glad he’s okay, he could’ve gotten seriously hurt again.” You pet Squibbles on his head with your finger. “We best get back to the common room before anyone notices we’re gone.”

“Too late.”

You turn around to meet face to face with a Slytherin prefect. You shielded Newt as he hurriedly hid Squibbles in his robe. 

“What are you doing out of bed first-years?” she asked. 

Newt tried to stutter out a response, but you interjected. 

“It was my fault,” you tell her. “I wanted to explore the castle some more before bed and made my friend here come with me. We were on our way back when we got lost. It’s my fault that we’re out of bed, not his.”

She looked at Newt over your shoulder. “Is that true?”

“Yes,” you answered for him. 

The Slytherin prefect crossed her arms and sighed. “Since it’s your first day I’ll let you off with a warning. Try not to get caught next time, alright?”

You and Newt vigorously nod your heads. She asks you what house you were sorted in and directed you back towards the Hufflepuff common room. You and Newt thanked her and walked through the tunnel. You felt Newt tap your shoulder and you stopped to face him. 

“Why did you lie?” He asked. 

“I’m sorry?”

“Back in the corridor,” he explains. “You told her it was your fault that we were out and not mine. W...Why would you do that?”

“I didn’t want you to get in trouble,” you say simply. “If they knew the real reason we were out of bed, they would have given you and I both detention and taken Squibbles. Who knows what they would do to him then? At least if I got detention, you could still set Squibbles free. We’re lucky that Slytherin prefect was nice.”

Newt was astonished, to say the least. No one had ever stuck up for him like that. “Thank you.”

“That’s what friends are for, right?” You held your hand out for him to shake, in hopes that this time he would take it. 

Newt stared at your outstretched hand and cautiously reached for it, taking it into his own. You gave him a goofy smile and he reciprocated with his own. 

“Right.”

──── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ────

“Oi, Newt! You're getting leech juice all over the table!”

Newt snapped out of his previous daze and set down the now spilled jar of leech juice onto the table.

“The potion is oversaturated,” you sigh. “We’ll have to start again.”

“Sorry,” Newt muttered as he wiped the table down.

It was well into your second year of schooling and Newt was still very much the same quirky boy you met on your first day at Hogwarts. Granted, he had gotten a bit taller over the summer, and his voice was slightly deeper but other than that he was still your Newt.

The two of you were quite the pair. Inseparable since day one, you were the best of friends. The two of you were so often together that other students would refer to you as “(y/n) and Newt” or “Newt and (y/n)”.

Newt, being the quieter of the two, gained a reputation of his own. Many people didn’t understand him. They found him odd, so they tended to tease him in response like most children do. Newt didn’t pay much attention to their advances. Ignoring it seemed to be his best defense. Though, there where times when things went too far, and you would have to deal with it.

You made a name for yourself at Hogwarts the last year and a half. You had a natural charm about you that often attracted many admirers and friends, resulting in an unwanted sort of popularity. But with it came bullies— bullies that would eventually know that you were simply not to be messed with.

Most of the hate directed at you fixated on the fact that you were a muggle-born, or a mudblood as they so liked to call you. A mean-spirited Gryffindor girl by the name of Muriel Prewett was very keen on reminding you of your heritage every day during your first year.

It wasn’t until she started picking on Newt so horribly that she pushed one button too many. The day she was caught taunting Newt in front of you was also the day she found out this particular mudblood had a nasty right hook. Knocked to the ground in the courtyard surrounded by bystanders, poor Muriel spent the day in the infirmary with a broken nose and a nasty headache.

Word spread around fast and you quickly became a hero to all those terrorized by Muriel Prewett. It’s not often a first-year stands up to a fifth-year, let alone completely deck them to the ground. So others quickly learned to leave you and your friends alone.

As second-years, your reputations precede you both. Newt as the awkward, quiet boy often found with an array of magical beasts, and you as the witty, wayward girl often caught up in your many misadventures. 

“If you’re going to stare at Lestrange, do it subtly. My grade shouldn’t have to suffer because you’re busy drooling over her,” you smirk. 

“I’m not staring, nor was I drooling,” he mumbles. “And you wouldn’t need my help with that. You seem to let your grade suffer perfectly well on your own.”

You jaw fell slack and Newt couldn’t help the sly smirk that appeared on his face. You playfully push him with your shoulder and he laughs. 

Newt helps you restart the shrinking potion and you quirk your brow at him. “Then I suppose you don’t want to ask her to join us at the lake tonight?”

Newt looked at you with wide eyes. “W-Why would I want to do that?”

“I don’t know,” you hum teasingly. “You tell me.”

Newt frowned to himself and shook his head. “I-I’d prefer it to be just you and me, actually... like always.”

You look at him, his head still bowed. 

“Yeah, okay,” you chuckle. “Like always.”

You stir the potion in the cauldron and it began to glow a bright green. You held out your hand for Newt and he gave you a celebratory low-five. Your potions professor came to your table and praised you both for brewing the perfect potion. 

Amongst the many frustrated glares and envious groans of unsuccessful students, you noticed Leta Lestrange curiously looking back at you— more specifically Newt. Leta’s eyes met your own and you gave her a lopsided grin, one she didn’t return. Her head fell back into her arms on the table, away from both you and Newt.

You pursed your lips and shrugged it off, bringing your attention back to Newt, who was diligently labeling the jar of shrinking potion and smiled. You ruffled his curly, red locks, ignoring his quiet protests.

“What was that for?” He whined.

“Nothing, you goof,” you giggle. The clock tower bell rang, signaling the end of class. You gathered your books and headed out the door. When you didn’t hear the shuffling of your friend’s shoes behind you, you stopped in your tracks. You turned around to see Newt still at the table, not-so-subtly watching Leta pack up her things.

“Come on, then.” You lean on the door frame of the potions room. “Can’t be late to Herbology again.”

Newt slung his bag over his shoulder and trotted to your side at the door. You raise an accusing brow at him. “Not staring, huh?”

Newt shrugged his shoulders. “What?” 

You roll your eyes and shake your head, leaving him dumbfounded in the doorway as you walked down the hall. 

“I-I wasn’t staring,” He huffed as he hastily chased after you on your way to Herbology. 

•••                                                                   

Newt was double-checking his satchel in the Hufflepuff common room while he was waiting for you to come down. Everything seemed to be there. The fire crackled and Newt attentively watched the flames dance in the fireplace. He nearly jumped out of his skin when you leaned down and whispered ‘boo’ into his ear. You snickered at his reaction and walked around the yellow sofa to stand in front of him. 

“I wish you’d stop doing that,” Newt grumbled. 

“You’d think that after all this time you would get used to it,” you pointed out. Newt stood up and handed you the bag. 

You pull the long strap over your head and rest it on your shoulder. Newt went to open the secret passageway the two of you had discovered one day in your first year. He let you go in first, before following suit and sealing the passage. The corridor was dank and narrow. Water dripped from the ceiling and overgrown moss covered the stone walls. 

“Lumos.” The tip of your wand glowed an acceptable amount of blue light, enough for the both of you to see. 

You led Newt down the passage, ignoring the mice and bundimun that tended to cross your path. You were nearing the end of the tunnel when you felt something on your head. Initially, you thought it was just the occasional drop of questionable liquid that often fell from the ceiling, but then it started to move. 

You stopped in your tracks and your blood ran cold. 

“Newt?” You squeaked. 

“Yes?” 

You turned around to face him and held your wand above you. Newt’s eyes immediately gravitated to the top of your head. 

“I want you to be completely honest with me, okay?”

He nodded. 

You took a shaky breath. “Is there a spider on my head?”

He nodded. 

“Is it big?”

“I would say it’s abnormally large.”

You let out a distressed whine, your body tensed upon feeling the spider crawl closer to your face. 

You felt yourself begin to tear up. “Newt...”

“It’s alright,” Newt reached up to grab the unwanted arachnid out of your hair. 

“Get it off, please!” Tears were streaming down your cheeks as Newt untangled the legs of the spider from your locks. 

“There. Off you go.” 

The large critter crawled onto his hands and your eyes bulged in fear. It barely fit in both his hands. It was black and furry, with beady black eyes and large fangs. You suddenly felt light-headed. Newt gently placed it down on the ground where it scurried away into the shadows. Newt looked quizzically at your shaken state. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You sniffed. 

“I’ve never seen you cry before,” he says. 

You wipe your damp cheeks on the sleeve of your robe and cleared your throat. 

“Well don’t make such a big deal out of it,” you mutter. “C’mon, we’re nearly there.”

You were skittish the entire walk out of the tunnel, fearful another spider would cross paths with you again. Luckily, you both made it out with no further interruptions. Removing the conveniently placed shrubbery from the opening of the tunnel and stepping out into the grasslands, you let out a sigh of relief once the midnight air entered your lungs. 

“We really ought to find another passage,” you suggest.  “Preferably one without spiders.”

Newt smiled to himself and hummed in agreement. The half-moon provided it’s own natural light for the two of you to see, and you put your wand away, its light fading. You trudged through the hills and grass, down to the infamous Great Lake.

Crickets chirped in the night and the occasional firefly would glow its tail around you. You handed Newt the satchel and he grabbed a large yellow blanket, laying it on the shore of the lake. He sat down on it and you kneeled down next to him. He searched the bag for a jar labeled ‘Gillyweed’ in Newt’s unmistakable penmanship. 

“Best not swim on the Northside today,” said Newt. “I suspect the merpeople won’t be too welcoming, after last time.”

He handed you a small tuft of gillyweed before taking his own. You put the bitter, slimy weed into your mouth and swallowed. Enduring the sting of the transformation, you undid your robe and let it fall around your feet. Newt mimicked your actions and you both slipped off your shoes. 

Newt blushed and looked away when you removed your dress shirt and skirt, leaving you in your frilly drawers and camisole. Your neck tingled and burned as your hands started to web. You grabbed your wand and headed into the water. 

“Hurry up, Newt!” You shriek as the cold water hits your legs. 

Newt watches you dive into the lake, your now fin-like feet splashing into the water. Without a beat of hesitation, Newt unbuttons his shirt and slips off his trousers, leaving him in his union suit. He wastes no time chasing after you and diving under the water to meet you on the lake floor.

Bubbles surrounded him, the cold water slowly becoming bearable. The gillyweed took full effect, providing him with gills, webbed hands, and a pair of flippers. His vision was much clearer under the water, and yet, he couldn’t see you. 

He swam along the kelp forest in search of you. He suspected you went down to the underwater cave, a hideout you discovered a few months ago. He was on his way there when he came upon a patch of (h/c) kelp swaying in the soft current. Newt swam down and parted the kelp to reveal your face smiling up at him. 

You giggled under the water and playfully stuck your tongue out at him before swimming away from the kelp forest. Newt followed you, chasing you through the water. 

You led him to the underwater cave and the kelp that covered the entrance parted for you. The cave was somewhat of a collection. Not yours, but someone— or something’s— collection. 

The cave was hoarded with lost items and forgotten treasures that had made their way into the lake. You swam up to the surface and wiped the water from your face. 

The reflection of the water bounced off the cave walls and trinkets that piled all around. You smiled and watched Newt swim up beside you. He shook the water out of his locks, stray droplets pelting you in the process. 

“Newt!” You giggled, raising your arms to block the water. 

Newt stopped and smiled at you muttering a soft ‘sorry’. You sighed and swam up to the shore of the cave. You pulled yourself up to sit on one of the rocks. Newt did the same, taking a seat next to you. 

“This is nice, isn’t it?” You say. 

Newt nodded. “Yes, it is.”

You grinned and fiddled with your amphibian-like hands. There was a question nagging in the back of your mind. It’d been nagging at you for the past few weeks. 

“Newt?” You call.

Newt turned to you. “Yes?”

You avoided his eyes and focused on the ripples in the water. “Do you like Leta?”

You could almost feel Newt tense at the question, which in itself was an answer. 

“Why... Why would you think that?” 

You shake your head and scoff. “You’re not very discreet, Newt. You haven’t taken your eyes off her the entire year.”

Newt blushed and his ears turned bright red. You couldn’t help but feel...sick? That’s the best way you could put it at the time. You felt sick. Sick like someone punched you so hard in the gut you’d throw up at any moment— sick like your heart fell into your stomach and was slowly being digested whole. You hated it. You hated the feeling. So, you ignored it. You buried it deep down for you to deal with later. 

You bit your lip, tasting the salt of the lake on your tongue. 

“Nevermind.” You force a smile and slip back into the water. “How about another swim? This time, I’ll chase you.”

Newt smiled and nodded, joining you in the water. “That’s hardly fair. You’re a much better swimmer.”

“Okay,” you chuckle. “Then how about I give you a headstart? Ready?”

Newt smiled and dived under the water. You watched him swim off, your smile fading with him. You sighed and floated in the pool, watching the light from the water twinkle above you on the cavern ceiling. You hummed quietly to yourself, allowing the natural acoustics of the cave to carry your voice, before diving in after your friend. 

──── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ────

It was just after the winter break of your third year and you had finally finished unpacking. You had returned more than an hour prior and you had yet to see your lanky, freckled friend since your departure. Usually, he would be eagerly waiting for you at Kings Cross station, but this year he decided to stay at the castle and care for the many creatures the two of you have collected over the years. 

You knew just where to find him. Your legs moved on their own, passing many of your other friends as you dash to your most favorite place in all of Hogwarts: the fairy glade. 

You and Newt discovered the fairy glade in your first year during Easter break. You decided to stay with Newt that year to explore the castle grounds and happened to stumble upon the fairy glade hidden in the Forbidden Forest. You were completely mesmerized by how beautiful it was. 

The glade had meadow with sparkling water, and there were umbrella flowers, nettles, and shrivelfigs all around. Your favorite detail of the glade was the patch of electric blue flowers that grew around a great oak tree, where the fairies often resided. You didn’t know what they were, but the vibrant blue quickly became your favorite color.

The glade was your escape. You and Newt often went there to de-stress when school work and social life became taxing. One of your favorite memories was when the fairies approached you both and played with you the entire afternoon. 

You weren’t surprised when you saw Newt kneeling over the brook. The sunlight that broke through the branches of the trees shone on him, turning his hair into a fiery red. You smiled to yourself and rested your head on the tree beside you. Despite the chill of winter, Newt didn’t have on his scarf. You suspected he left it in the dorms. He was very forgetful of things concerning himself. 

You walked up behind Newt, unbeknownst to him. “I thought I might find you here,” you chirp. 

Newt turned to look at you, shock written on his features. He let the toad that he was holding jump from his hands and back into the stream. He stood to his feet, towering over you. It seemed like every time you saw him he got taller. 

“(y/n)?”

You unwrapped your Hufflepuff scarf from around your neck and stretched up to wrap it around him. 

“Yes,” you chuckle. “Who else would it be?”

Newt’s cheeks reddened and he was glad that it was cold, otherwise, you would have noticed. Your question was answered by the sound of footsteps crunching the frosted grass. 

“Newt, I found some toadstools, maybe we can— oh. Hello.”

You craned your neck to look behind you. You didn’t expect to see Leta Lestrange standing two feet away from you and Newt. In yourspecial place. Your skin became incredibly hot in spite of being outside. A familiar feeling rose from your stomach and into your throat. Newt stepped beside you.

“Leta this is (y/n). (y/n) this Le—”

“I know who she is.”

The air suddenly became thick and Newt could tell you were not happy. Leta could feel your eyes burning holes into her skull. Her eyes shifted nervously between you and Newt, who looked at her apologetically. 

You forced a smile and grabbed Newt’s wrist. “Leta, would you excuse us for a moment?”

You didn’t wait for permission. Instead, you took Newt’s arm and dragged him downstream next to a small waterfall in hopes it would muffle your voices. You let go of his wrist and folded your arms. 

“What is she doing here, Newt?” You fumed. “When did you and Leta become such good friends?” 

Newt tucked his head into your scarf and gripped the side of his robe into his hand.

“She came to me in the den, the day you left,” he said through your scarf. “She started helping me with the creatures... I-I suppose we got to know each other a bit better. She was feeling pretty down, not being with her family and all... I wanted to cheer her up.”

“So you buy her a butterbeer or give her a box of chocolate frogs; you don’t bring her here!” You hadn’t meant to raise your voice, you were just so hurt. Newt’s eyes were trained on the tips of your shoes and you sighed, letting your crossed arms fall to your sides. 

“I’m sorry,” you conceded. “I shouldn’t have shouted.”

Newt didn’t say anything.

“I’m glad you and Leta are friends now. It’s just...” You took a deep breath and kicked a small rock into the stream. “This is our place— our specialplace. I’m not sure if I am ready to share it with anyone else.”

Newt’s eyes looked up to see the hurt on your face. His heart fell heavy and he knew that he’d really hurt your feelings. Then, he realized what a downright git he was being. It never crossed his mind why you never invited any of your other friends to the glade. In fact, you never invited your friends to any of the places you and Newt went to, nor would you let them tag along when you hung out with him. When you and Newt were together, it was always just you and Newt.

“You’re right,” he confessed. “I’m the sorry one. I never should have brought Leta here, especially without asking you about it. I never meant to upset you. I’ll ask her to leave.”

Newt began walking back towards Leta when you grabbed a hold of his sleeve.

“Don’t,” you blurt, surprising yourself in the process. Newt looked back to you quizzically. 

“You’re not one to open up so easily,” you began. “If you brought her here... you must really trust her.” 

You looked over to where you’d left Leta to see her crouched by the brook. She was smiling at the toad in her hand.

“I think we can make room for one more in our little group,” you smile. “Don’t you agree?”

Newt nodded, a smile growing on his own lips. “Absolutely.”

•••      

“Good, good! Well done, Mister Avery! Head to the back now, please.”

The classroom was in a fit of giggles and snickers at the defeated boggart. You were next in line, your wand clenched tightly in your grasp. Professor Dumbledore encouragingly pushed you forward towards the boggart. 

“It’s alright, (y/n). You can do this,” he assured you. His calming words did not help though, because you knew exactly what the boggart would turn into. 

When you faced the boggart it swirled and morphed until it became a giant furry spider with large black eyes and snapping fangs. 

“Oh God, why me?” You gulped. 

The boggart inched closer to you, hissing and snapping. You raised your wand with your sweaty hand and pointed at it. “Riddikulus!”

A barbershop hat and cane appeared in the legs of the boggart. It forcibly started to dance to imaginary show tunes on four of its legs, twirling the cane in the other four. It actually managed to make you laugh, as well as the other students. 

“Well done, Miss (l/n)!” Dumbledore chuckled before sending you to the back of the line. 

You sent Newt a cocky wink as you walked past, for he was next in line. You would be lying if you said you weren't curious about Newt’s boggart. You hadn’t seen Newt fear anything in his life. It was a bit concerning, actually.

“Alright, Newt. Be brave.” Dumbledore pushed Newt forward just as he had you a few short moments ago. 

The boggart focused on Newt and morphed from your dancing spider to...

“An office desk?” You whispered to yourself. How incredibly anticlimactic.

“That's an unusual one,” Dumbledore pondered. “So, Mister Scamander fears what more than anything else in the world?”

“Working in an office, sir,” Newt said, almost as if it were obvious. 

The class snickered and you playfully rolled your eyes. Of course, that would be Newt’s boggart.

“Go ahead, Newt,” Dumbledore urged. 

Newt gave him a nod and held out his wand. “Riddikulus!”

Newt turned the desk into a wooden dragon that roared and beat its wings. The class laughed and applauded Newt, and you grinned at your beautifully impossible friend.

“Well done, Newt.” Dumbledore praised, sending Newt off to the back of the room. “Leta?”

Newt stood next to you on the side. Leta looked back at you and you gave her a comforting smile. Dumbledore went to Leta and guided her to the center of the room, reciting words of encouragement. 

“I’ve been waiting to see this.” You heard one of Leta’s daily tormenters whisper. 

You whipped your head around to glare at the two gossiping Gryffindor girls. 

“Shove it, Abbott, or I’ll become your boggart,” you growled. 

The girls glared at you but didn’t dare speak back. Newt tapped your hand as a way to call you off. You sucked your teeth and turned back to the front of the room where your friend was the center of attention.

Dumbledore gave Leta a soft pat on the back and pushed her towards the boggart. It twisted and twirled in the air until the entire room went black, the only light illuminating the room was an ominous blue light that cast over a bundle of floating white linens. 

To any normal person, it wouldn’t have seemed like something to be afraid of, but it wasn’t just about how it looked. It was about how it made you feel.

You didn’t know how to explain it— how it felt in the room. It was cold, but not the kind of cold that makes you shiver and bundle up. It was the kind of cold that creeps down your spine and spreads through your body. The kind of cold you feel when you’re all alone and the only thing you can hear is the sound of your breath and your heartbeat. 

There was something about it that suffocated you. It was like you were slowly forgetting how to breathe, but you couldn’t do anything about it. You couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, couldn’t do anything but watch the linens fall gracefully, like an angel. 

It was softer than a feather, so soft you hardly even noticed it, but it was there. The lightest touch grazed your left hand and captured your pinky finger. You tore your eyes from the boggart and looked down. Newt’s pinky was intertwined with yours. 

You looked up to meet Newt’s eyes that were already looking down at you. He gave you a comforting closed smile. Your grip tightened and your nerves settled. You both turned to Leta with worried looks and watched as Dumbledore rid of the boggart himself. The class was dismissed shortly after.

•••      

“You should talk to her.”

You and Newt were by the Great Lake. Leta was there, sitting by the edge alone. You'd both found her there sulking. 

“Me?” Newt asks. “Alone?”

You nod. “You’re closest to her. She’ll listen to you.”

Newt looks at Leta and nods. “Okay.”

You place your hand on his shoulder and urge him further. 

“You’ll know what to do.” 

Your eyes follow Newt as he walks down to meet Leta. You furrow your brows as you watch him talk to her. He held out his hand for her to take, which she hesitantly did. 

“(y/n)!”

You tore your eyes from the two and looked for whoever called your name. Your friend, Davina Bonnet was running towards you with a smile on her face. 

“Hello, Davina,” you call out. “What is it?”

“The girls and I are going to Hogsmeade, do you want to come?” She asks.

“Um...” You look back to where Newt and Leta once were, only to see they’ve gone. 

You felt it again. That gut-punch feeling in the pit of your stomach. The same feeling you felt for the first time last year in the cave. The same feeling you felt when you saw Leta and Newt together in the glade. The same feeling you felt more often since Leta started hanging around. But, you did what you always did— a talent you have grown to master— you ignored it.

“Sure,” You huff, trotting to your friend’s side. “I could use a butterbeer right about now.”

Davina linked her arm with yours and walked with you back to the castle. “Yes, and then you can tell me all about why you look more miserable than a fairy without its wings.”

You giggle and nudge her playfully. “Well, it has something to do with that awful potion’s exam.”

Davina groaned, throwing her head back in exasperation. “Oh tell me about it! It was absolutely dreadful! Perhaps we should order two butterbeers.”

You laughed heartily, your mood already lifting in her presence as she complained to you about the exam. 

──── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ────

“Oh Please, I could never go with a plonker like him,” you scoff. 

It was your fourth year and the Winter Ball was quickly approaching. You were walking with Davina and Priscilla, a Slytherin girl you befriended last year through Davina. They were trying to convince you to accept a pending proposal from a handsome sixth-year Gryffindor boy named Fleamont Potter. Apparently, he had his eyes set on you. 

“Are you blind?” Priscilla gaped. “He is absolutely delicious, how can you even consider saying no?” 

“Easily,” you say plainly. “He is an arrogant playboy without a romantic bone in his body. Besides, I already have plans.” 

Priscilla snorted and rolled her eyes. “You're not seriously going to the winter ball with Scamander and Lestrange, are you?”

You stopped in your tracks and frowned. “What? Is that a bad thing?”

“No! Of course it’s not!” Davina defended, walking to your side to face Priscilla. “Right Priscilla?”

Priscilla rolled her eyes, ignoring Davina’s warning. 

“(y/n), I am only saying this as your friend who cares. I don’t want your first ball to be spent with your tail tucked between your legs as you follow those two around all night.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked.

“It means that ever since Lestrange wiggled her way between you two, Scamander has been completely devoted to her. They’re always wandering off without you, and even when they're with you it’s like they’re in a secret club you weren't invited to. It’s almost like you don’t exist to him.”

“That’s not true!”

“Yes, it is!” Priscilla sighed, her tone softening. “I know you two have a bond that Davina and I don’t, and that’s okay. But we are your friends too, and I can’t stand by and watch him and Lestrange mistreat you. Davina feels the same, she just doesn't have the gall to say so.”

You turn to the proper girl next to you and saw her bow her head in shame, her eyes too afraid to meet yours. You let out an airy chuckle.

“I have to go,” you mumble, before turning around to walk in the other direction. 

Davina called out for you, trotting behind you. “(y/n), please—”

“Don’t,” you tell her. “I’ll see you guys later, okay?”

You didn’t wait for an answer. You pushed your way through the crowd of students and headed towards the lake. It was the only place nearby you could clear your head in peace. 

You sat on the edge of the lake and glared into the water. The giant squid must have noticed your moping and reached its tentacle up to you. You smiled and pet it, letting it comfort you. 

“(y/n)?”

You turn to see Leta making her way towards you. 

“Hello, Leta,” you grunt as you stood up.

“I thought I’d find you here,” she grinned, walking to your side. “It’s your thinking place.”

“I suppose it has become that,” you admit. “Aren’t you missing potions?”

Leta sighed and reached up to pet the giant squid’s tentacle. “Aren’t you?”

You smiled. “Potions can wait. I had to clear my head for a bit.”

“Is it about Potter?” Leta smirked.

You groan in annoyance. “Does everyone know?”

“Maybe not everyone, but most people? Yes,” she laughs. “He’s looking for you, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I’m avoiding him. Besides, we’re supposed to go together. You, me, and Newt.”

“Oh— of course!”

You furrowed your brows and looked at her. “Is there something wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“It just seemed like you were surprised.”

“No not at all,” she told you. “It’s just, we thought—”

“We? As in you and Newt?” You ask.

She nodded.

“When we heard that Potter was going to ask you, we thought you’d say yes. So, I asked Newt to be my date,” she explained.

“Oh...” 

“(y/n), you can still come with us.”

“No, no,” you insist. “It’s fine... It’s probably better this way. Three’s a crowd in any case.”

“What are you saying?”

You reach for your bag on the ground and sling it over your shoulder. “You and Newt have made plans together, It’d be rude of me to impose. You two have fun.”

“But, what about you?”

You give her a small smile. “I’ll figure something out,” you say, before leaving her by the lake and returning to the castle. 

•••      

“Oh (y/n), you look beautiful,” Davina fawned. 

“Potter is going to be stunned by how lovely you look,” Priscilla grinned. 

You wore a white silk dress, with a light blue trim and flowery embellishments around the skirt and collar.. It was a beautiful piece. The collar dipped low, but covered enough to keep you modest. The short sleeves fell off your shoulders, making you feel bare. Your corset sinched your waist, displaying your newly developed curves.

Davina helped you with your make up, enhancing your best features and drawing attention to your lips with a rosy tint. Priscilla took care of your hair, curling it and braiding it for you, before adorning it with jeweled pins and small flowers. 

“You both look lovely too,” you say. And they did. Priscilla’s onyx hair was curled and fell around her shoulders. She wore an emerald green dress, a homage to her house, that suited her umber skin exceptionally. Davina chose pink as her signature color, her dress also displaying her womanly figure. Her golden locks were curled as well and pinned up, showing her swan-like neck. 

“You’ll be the belle of the ball, (y/n). Not even Scamander will be able to take his eyes off you.”

You flushed, your cheeks becoming warm. “We should be heading down now,” you say and lead them down to the Great Hall. 

You walked with your friends with arms linked and poshly made your way down the stairs where you courters waited for you. 

Davina was attending the ball with a fellow Hufflepuff boy named Anthony she’d been fancying. Priscilla accepted the proposal from a shy Ravenclaw boy who had admired her for some time. You accepted Fleamont Potter’s proposal shortly after your talk with Leta by the lake.

He’d found you wandering the halls and stopped you promptly. Despite his reputation, he was rather sweet when no one else was around, and you were flattered by his words in your state of weakness. So, in the heat of the moment, you accepted. 

You couldn’t help but feel nervous under his gaze. When you met him at the bottom of the stairs he peered down at you through his glasses. He smiled at you almost immediately. 

“You look stunning,” he complimented. “Breathtaking, even.”

You scoffed, despite the feeling of heat rising to your cheeks. 

“I’d believe it, but somehow you’re still breathing.”

He laughed at this, causing you to blush even more. He held out his arm for you to take, to which you gladly accepted, and led you into the Great Hall. 

Fleamont truly was one of the most handsome boys in the school. He definitely had the look to fit his “bad-boy” reputation. He had long chestnut brown hair that was pulled into a ponytail for the occasion. He had skin like amber: tanned and warm despite the lack of sun. It was a satisfying contrast to his green eyes. His dress robes were well-fitted and matched well with your ensemble. 

Music surrounded you as you walked in. Students danced and laughed, enjoying the events of the night. You smiled, suddenly feeling festive for the occasion. You followed Fleamont to the dance floor, aware of the varying eyes following you.

Fleamont took your hand and put the other on his shoulder before placing his on your hip. 

“Is everything alright?” He asked while leading you through the dance. “You seem nervous.”

You nod your head. “Everyone’s looking at you,” you tell him. “They’re probably wondering why you’re here with me.”

He smirked and looked around. “Somehow, I don’t think it’s me they’re looking at.”

You furrowed your brows at him and he gestured around for you to look. You subtly looked around and saw the ogling eyes of some boys gawking at you, and the envious glares of their dates. You flushed and hid your face in your curls, causing him to chuckle. 

“I didn’t know (y/n) (l/n) was so shy,” he teased. “You’ve been flustered since you got here.”

“I’m not shy,” you retort. “I’m just not used to everyone staring at me. Maybe going to the ball with ‘Hogwart’s finest’ wasn’t the best idea.”

“Hogwart’s finest?” He smiled. “Is that what they call me? Alright, I’ll take it. Though, I am curious as to why you did agree to come with me.”

“Why is that?”

“Well,” he breathed. “You were avoiding me for quite some time.”

You stifled a laugh and raised you brows up at him. “Oh, so you noticed?”

“A bit.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to deal with a proposal. Well, that and I was expecting—”

“—To go with Scamander?”

You didn’t respond. 

“I get it,” He says. “You’ve been friends for a long time.”

“Yes... We have.”

Fleamont spun you around once before pulling you back into him. “So, why is it that you’re here with me instead of him?”

“Some things just don’t work out,” you smile bitterly. 

Fleamont’s eyes gravitated beyond you. “I see...”

You quirked your head to the side curiously and followed his gaze to the front hall. It was almost impossible to avoid his hazel eyes. Newt had finally shown up to the ball wearing, no doubt, his brother’s old dress robes. You could tell because they were a tad loose on his lanky form. Even still, he looked handsome as ever. 

He smiled at you. It was a small, almost unnoticeable smile, but it was there. You missed seeing it. You missed him. You contemplated going over to say hello— maybe even compliment him on his hand-me-down robe. You lost the confidence when Leta appeared beside him, handing him a glass of punch. He smiled and took it from her. He said something that made her look at you and Fleamont. She grinned and gave you a small wave. 

“I need a drink,” you turn to Fleamont, your eyes pleading for an escape.

“Of course.” He took your arm again and lead you to the refreshment table.

•••      

You and Fleamont were sitting at the table laughing goofily at the story you were telling him. 

“And then, they were so furious they chased us out the water with spears! I nearly lost my life!”

Fleamont laughed as he sipped his punch.

“You are quite the adventurer. I wish I had explored the grounds as much as you.”

“Well, maybe I can show you a thing or two some time,” you suggest. “I heard there’s a meadow where unicorns often go to graze.”

“Careful, (y/n). I just might take you up on the offer.”

You bite into a pumpkin pasty and stare at him quizzically. 

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing,” you hum with a soft smile

“Come on, out with it,” he playfully kicked your leg under the table. 

You swallow the sweet pastry and perch your arms on the table. 

“You asked me why I decided to go with you to the ball, but I never got to know why you asked me in the first place.”

“What do you mean?”

You leaned back in your chair and raised your brows knowingly. “As flattered as I am, you are a sixth-year captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team, and up until a few weeks ago I was invisible to you.”

“I wouldn’t say invisible.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. Fleamont sighed and fiddled with his hands. You noticed his eyes flicker across the room before darting back to you. You pursed your lips and turned around in your seat to see who had caught his eye. 

A pretty blonde-haired girl wearing a gold dress was laughing amongst her small group of friends. You’d seen her before, she had some classes with you. She was a Gryffindor like Fleamont. If you weren’t mistaken, he tended to hang around her often. 

“It’s Euphemia, isn’t it?” You concluded. Fleamont bashfully bowed his head.

“I understand,” you hum. “You asked me to the ball in hopes to make her jealous, am I right?”

“Please don’t be offended. You really are beautiful, and I enjoy being with you. I wouldn’t have asked you to be my date if I didn’t have any interest in you... It’s just—”

“—You care about her too much?”

He nodded. A comfortable silence fell over you both. You thought that you should feel hurt. Your date has his eyes set on another woman. And yet, you didn’t feel hurt by him. You felt sorry for him. Sorry that he was here with you and not with the person he truly wanted to be with. 

“You should dance with her.” You tell him. Fleamont was caught off guard, looking at you as though you were mad. 

“Dance with her?” He repeated.

You nodded your head. “She’s the one you want to be with, and I don’t think she came with anyone. You should talk to her,” you tell him. “And if I were you, I would start by telling her how pretty she looks.”

“But what about you? What kind of date would I be if I left you alone, as lovely as you look?”

You roll your eyes and share a smile.

“I’ll be fine, Fleamont. You have given me enough attention for one night. I’d hate to be the one to stand between you and Euphemia.”

Fleamont seemed to be contemplating staying when his eyes caught Euphemia’s across the hall. He bit the side of his cheek before focusing on you once more. 

“You sure you’ll be alright?” 

You grin and urge him forward. “Go to her, Potter.”

Fleamont seemed to thank you with his eyes, standing to his feet and straightening out his robes. 

“How do I look?”

“Like a knightly prince,” you tease. Fleamont grinned and took your hand, bringing it to his lips. 

“Thank you, (y/n),” he whispered. “And for what it’s worth, I think you should talk to Scamander as well.”

“Newt? He’s with Leta, trust me, I am the last thing on his mind.”

“Really?” Fleamont asked. He pulled you close and leaned into your ear. “Because he hasn’t taken his eyes off you the entire night.”

With that, Fleamont left you alone with your thoughts. You watched him walk to Euphemia. When she noticed his presence she smiled almost immediately, her blue eyes twinkling as he took her hand. They were perfect for each other. You were sure things between them would work out. 

The band changed the mood, transitioning from the more lively music to a slow song. Couples excitedly made their way to the dance floor. Fleamont’s words rang in your ear. You smiled to yourself.

Maybe he was right. Maybe you should talk to Newt. It wasn’t fair of you to ignore him and Leta, they were your best friends. You couldn’t be upset with them for going the ball together, especially when you went with someone else. 

“Alright,” you huff. “A leap of faith.”

You stood to your feet and gathered all your courage to find your friend. You squeezed your way through the crowd of idle students. You looked around in hopes to see a familiar tuft of curly auburn hair. Instead, your eyes landed on Davina and Priscilla. They smiled when they saw you, and you smiled in return as you walked across the room to meet them. 

“What are you two doing?” you ask. “Shouldn’t you be dancing?”

“We could ask you the same thing,” Priscilla smirked.

“Theodore was so nervous dancing with Prissy he got sick and fainted on the ballroom floor,” Davina explained. “Anthony took him to the infirmary.”

“Nervous? More like scared,” you tease, earning a glare from the Slytherin Queen herself, and a snort from Davina.

“And what about you? Shouldn’t you be the one snogging Potter and not Euphemia?” Priscilla retorts. 

“We saw them dancing earlier,” Davina clarifies. “What happened?”

Priscilla placed a soft hand on your shoulder. “Did that twat ditch you? ‘Cause if he did, I swear by Merlin I will shove—”

“It’s not like that,” you chuckle. “I told him to go.”

Davina wrinkled her nose. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“It’s a long story,” you sigh as your eyes wander around the room. “Just know it was for the best.”

Davina and Priscilla noticed your antsy behavior and watched you curiously. 

“Are you okay?” Davina asks.

You look at your friends and show them a bashful smile. “Actually, I’m looking for Newt,” you say. “Have you seen him ‘round? I have to talk to him.”

The two shared a knowing look. You knew they’d seen him.

“Tell me where he is. Please. It’s important.”

Davina’s eyes softened and she opened her mouth to say something but stopped once she caught Priscilla’s eye. Priscilla shook her head and Davina closed her mouth. 

You look between the two before meeting Davina’s eyes. “Vina, please.”

Davina’s turquoise eyes lingered above you, before quickly fixating on your eyes. You craned your neck to see where she’d been looking. You saw it then, the tuft of red hair floating in the crowd. You smiled to yourself before turning back to your friends. 

“Thank you,” you say as you slowly back away. “I’ll see you both later!”

“(y/n), wait—!”

You ignored your friend’s protest as you turn and start in the direction of where you last saw Newt. You swam through the sea of people, muttering sorry’s and pardon me’s. 

“Hello, Newt,” you mumbled to yourself as you prepared the right words to say. “You look nice—no, good— no, great! Handsome! You look handsome.”

You cringe and shake your head.

“I want to say I’m sorry,” you restart. “I’m sorry, Newt. I miss you. I miss you because you’re my best friend. You’re my best friend, and I... You’re my best friend... and I...”

You stop in your tracks, causing a girl near you to bump into your shoulder. You could feel her eyes glaring at you as she passed by, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care because you’d found Newt. You found him in the sea of dancing couples. 

He was smiling. He was smiling in a way you’d never seen him smile. His lips curled up and parted to show his teeth. His eyes wrinkled at the sides, and his nose twitched upwards just the slightest bit. You could tell from where you stood that his cheeks were tinted red.

It would have been a heart-stopping smile...  except, it wasn’t directed at you.

Instead, it was directed at the girl he was dancing with, as was all his attention. Her smile was just as radiant. She looked up at him as he looked down at her. Her hands rested on his shoulders and his hands nervously hovered over her waist.

Their lips moved, whispering to each other, giggling with one another— separated from the world around them. It was as though time had slowed tremendously around you. The ballroom music and chatter muffled and you could only see them. Newt and Leta. Together.  

You watched hazily has Leta brought her hand up to the nape of Newt’s neck. You noticed him tense, but he did not move. He didn’t stop her. He just watched her. He watched her lean up to him. He watched her close her eyes. He let her press her lips onto his. He closed his eyes. She pulled away. They open their eyes. They smile. They dance.  

It couldn’t have been more than two seconds but it seemed much, muchlonger from where you were standing. 

You felt it again. That horrible gut-punch feeling. Only this time it was much, much worse. This time you couldn’t ignore it. 

You spun on your heels and pushed back into the crowd, letting the bodies engulf and camouflage you. You became claustrophobic, finding it harder and harder to breathe the longer you stayed in that godawful room. 

Davina and Priscilla noticed your hurried form scurrying across the room. They followed you into the hall and called your name, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. You ran in the direction of the courtyard. You stepped over crying girls, dodged snogging couples, and ignored cocky boys as you fled to the one place you could truly be left alone. 

Your anxious and clumsy attempts to run in your heels made you trip over your own feet by the edge of the Forbidden Forest. You yell in frustration and pull yourself up. You rip off the impractical shoes and discarded them somewhere in the snow. You didn’t pay attention to the cold, or the feeling of the snow crunching beneath your feet as you ran into the forest. None of it compared to what you were feeling inside. 

Your natural instincts guide you to the glade. You stopped once you came upon the brook. You fell to your knees in the snow. Your dress was the only layer separating you from its nip. 

Your heart pounded in your ears and your breaths were staggered. You couldn’t tell if it was because of your marathon to the glade, or the emotional shock you were in. 

Your vision blurred as salty tears brimmed your waterline. Your lip quivered and you took a deep breath in hopes to gain your composure. It seemed to do the opposite. In fact, it served as a door for you to let out everything that has been building up inside you for the last two years— possibly even before that. 

You sobbed aloud, comforted by the fact that you were alone, and too far away for anyone to hear. God, your stomach hurt. It hurt impossibly too much considering you weren’t attacked. No one had hexed you, no one punched you, and certainly, no one poisoned you. Somehow, this was far more substantial.

Tears stained your cheeks and your make-up smudged with it. So many unknown emotions ran through you. You tried to name them but only one came to mind. 

Fear. 

You felt fear. You were afraid and you didn’t understand why. It only made you feel more frustrated and helpless. You took the nearest rock and threw it into the brook, the thin layer of ice shattering upon impact. You let out a guttural sob into the night, as loud as you possibly could, in hopes to relieve the strain in your chest. You didn’t expect a similar cry to mimic your pain. You would have thought it was the echo of your own sob if it hadn’t sounded inhuman.

Your cries softened and your breaths became shallow. Another strangled cry was heard, this time closer. You sniffed and wiped your tears on your arm. A twig snapped in the woods and you whipped your head in the direction it came. You stood to your feet, your body slowly started registering the cold around you. 

You hadn’t realized it started snowing. The delicate flakes swayed down around you, some managing to nestle into your hair. 

The creature sounded in pain. You knew that there were many creatures in the forbidden forest, but they hardly ever came to the glade because it was too close to the school. Only on rare occasions would you come across a blurpee, or a porlock. Perhaps this was one of those occasions.

“Hello,” you call out. The bushes rustle and another strangled cry came from it. 

“It’s okay,” you sniff as you walk closer. “I won't hurt you. I want to help.”

You hoped that the poor creature wasn’t hurt too badly. You didn’t know much about caring for magical beasts. Newt was far more suitable in situations like these. 

You made kissing sounds, sounds you’d make when you called your dog back home. You held out your hand to beckon the creature out of the shadows. 

“Come on little one,” you coo. “I know someone who can take care of you.”

The creature rustled once more and you squint to better see it in the dark. It growled a deep and threatening sound that made you retract your hand. Twigs snapped and you watch the bush branches part. Glowing, green, canine-like eyes stared at you from the shadows. In the distance, you heard the howl of a wolf and your attention snapped to the clouded sky. The clouds rolled and you watched them uncover the large, round moon high in the night. 

Your eyes widened and you turn back to the green eyes in the bush. The moonlight cast over the glade. The snow reflected its light and illuminated your surroundings. The creature snarled and you saw its large sharp teeth.

You let out a shaky gasp, your breath turning into vapor in front of you. You stumbled over your dress when you tried to back away, causing you to fall into the snow. You yelp as the snow crunched beneath you. 

The creature slowly emerged from the shadows and into the moonlight. You could see it clearly now. Its large black paw crept onto the snow, a short black snout followed, and then it revealed itself to you fully. 

A wolf of impossible size stood just a few feet in front of you. Its fur was as black as obsidian and its eyes as green as jade. You could feel the pounding of your heart in your chest, and it quickened to an alarming rate. You knew exactly what it was. You had learned about them in your third-year Defense Against the Dark Arts class. This was no normal wolf, for this was not a normal forest. It became increasingly apparent the danger you were in.  

You were frozen under its gaze. You had nothing to defend yourself. You had no wand, and you wouldn’t dare try to apparate. You mentally curse at yourself for beckoning the beast in the first place. The wolf bore its teeth as it snarled at you. 

It was when you let out a deafening scream that you remembered the very reason you came to the glade. It was far from the school, and far too deep into the forest for students to even consider venturing. It was the only place you could be alone. You were completely, utterly, and tragically alone. No one would hear your cries.

                         No one would come. 

•••      

It was just after midnight and what was left of the ball was scattered between the corridors and the Great Hall. Newt was walking alone back to the dormitory. Leta had left a few minutes earlier. She’d become tired and wanted to go back to her dorm, so Newt led her to the Slytherin common room and bid her goodnight. 

Leta kissed him. It happened so fast, he barely had time to react. He wasn’t expecting Leta to kiss him. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it. He liked Leta and he liked the kiss, but he was confused. He had feelings for Leta for a long time. He dreamed of taking her to a ball and kissing her just as he had tonight. One would be elaeted by such a dream comming true, and he would have been if you weren't the one he was thinking of the entire night. 

Newt frowned. You hadn’t talked to him in weeks. At first, he thought it was because of stress. There was an upcoming potions exam, and he knew you struggled in that particular subject. With that in mind and the ball, he could only imagine how stressed you were studying and preparing for your date.

If that were the case, you certainly did well under pressure, because when Newt saw you earlier that night, the first word that came to mind was ‘pretty’. Not that you weren’t pretty before, of course. Newt always thought you were pretty. One of the first things he noticed about you when you’d met in the Great Hall your first year was your doll-like eyes, your plump cheeks, and the decorative beauty marks that detailed your face. Even then, you were pretty to him. 

But earlier that night, it was different. You weren’t just pretty as a girl. You were pretty as a woman. He wanted to tell you that. He was going to tell you, probably, but he didn’t know if he should. 

For one thing, you were with a date, and even though you were his friend— his best friend— surely it would be inappropriate to boldly compliment someone else's date. Secondly, your date was Fleamont Potter, a tall, lean sixth-year who intimidated Newt greatly due to his high reputation in dueling. Lastly, Newt knew the reason you hadn’t talked to him in weeks wasn't because of stress, but because you didn’t want to talk to him.

That’s what confused him the most. It confused him because you’d never ignored him before, not once. There were even times where he felt like you purposely went out of your way to make sure he didn’t feel neglected. Even in rare instances where you were upset with him, or the two of you got into a fight, you never left him. You never stopped talking to him.

The sudden change in communication alone was enough to put a permanent tightness in his heart, but it was magnified immensely because he didn’t know why you were ignoring him. 

Newt was idly wandering the corridors. He was heading in the direction of the Hufflepuff common room when he heard frantic whispers around the corner. They were accompanied by sounds of a struggle and muffled cries.

“You must stay awake Miss (l/n)!” One of the voices say. 

“Professor, she’s losing a lot of blood!”

“Oh, (y/n),” a girl cries. “Please don’t be dead.”

Newt’s chest tightens at the mention of your name. He immediately turns the corner, and what he saw horrified him more than any boggart he’d encountered. Professor Dumbledore was cradling your limp, bloodied, mangled body in his arms. Two girls followed close behind him. Newt recognized them as your close friends Davina and Priscilla. Davina was clinging to your hand, tears streaming down her face as they rushed to take you to the infirmary. Priscilla seemed just as distraught but kept her composure. She held a piece of green cloth to your chest. Newt noticed that it was a piece torn from her dress. 

Professor Dumbledore knocked on the door and the matron opened it to him. She let out a startled yelp and immediately covered her mouth to stop her shrieks from escaping. 

“She was found like this, in the courtyard,” Dumbledore explains. The two shared a knowing look.

“Please, Madam Pertinger, you have to help her,” Davina sobs. 

“Bring her in,” she instructs. “Put her on the bed, quickly!”

Madam Pertinger guides Dumbledore and Davina inside and they disappear behind the walls. Newt’s legs moved before he could think. Tears filled his eyes and he found himself sprinting down the hall towards them. 

“Wait,” He calls. “(y/n)!”

Priscilla stopped in her tracks and turned to see Newt frantically making his way to the infirmary. She looked at your unconscious form on the hospice bed and at Newt, before quickly shutting the door behind her. 

Newt stops in his tracks in front of Priscilla and did his best to avoid her threatening glare. 

“You need to leave,” she says. 

Newt’s brows knit together. “What happened?” He asks but receives no answer, only a dead-eyed grimace. 

“I have to see her,” he pleads. “Please, I... I must—”

“No!” Priscilla hissed. “You lost that privilege! She is in a lot of pain right now and the last thing she needs is—”

Priscilla stops mid-sentence, and Newt saw a tear fall from the corner of her eye. Her expression softened and she let out an exhausted sigh. 

“I need to see her,” Newt stresses. “Please!”

“It’s not about what you need!” She snarled. “When she wakes up, I will tell her you came by; and if she sends for you, you may see her, but until then you need to go!”

Newt felt a lump rise in his throat. He was feeling so many emotions at once. Frustration. Anger. Confusion. Grief. 

“It’s not my place to say, but considering how it affects her, I haven’t a choice.” 

Newt looks up at Priscilla to meet her eyes. They were serious and almost seemed to plead to him. 

“Whatever is going on between you and Lestrange, I hope you figure it out soon... because you can't have them both.”

With that, Priscilla opened the door once more to retreat into the infirmary. Newt got a glimpse of you inside as the door swung open. You were screaming in pain as Madam Pertinger applied a silver powder onto your wounds. You had so many. They were deep, and blood flowed from them at an alarming rate. Your face contorted in agony as Dumbledore held you down to the bed and whispered enchantments over you. Newt could do nothing but watch you from behind the frame until the door closed, silencing your screams and separating you from him. 

•••      

Time.

That's what Newt gave you. After the night of your ‘accident’, you were unconscious for a week. When word spread about your condition, many people went to visit you. They showered you with tokens and gifts, even a few love letters made their way into the pile. Newt didn’t visit you, Priscilla made sure of that. 

The truth is, you didn’t want to see him. You didn’t want him to see you like that. Mangled and clinging to life. You knew the look he’d give you, how he’d pity you. The last thing you wanted was pity, especially from him. 

Rumors about you spread throughout the castle. Some people believed you were attacked by grindylows swimming in the Great Lake that night. This was a bit comical to you because it was amusing people believed you went swimming in the stark of winter. Others believed you were beaten badly in a duel by Leta, or that you were attacked by one of Newt’s creatures. The tension between you three didn’t help settle the rumors. 

In reality, no one really knew what happened. Only you, Professor Dumbledore, and Madam Pertinger knew, and that’s how you’d like to keep it. You’d told Davina and Priscilla that you’d tried apparating and got splinched. Davina seemed to buy it and scolded you for being so reckless. However, Priscilla is hard to fool, and it was likely she didn’t believe you, but she never voiced it. She figured you’d tell her what really happened when you were ready.

When Madam Pertinger cleared your return to the dorms and classes, you were very distant. You didn’t talk to anyone. Not Davina, not Priscilla, not Leta, and definitely not Newt. 

Part of it was your own struggle to accept it, what you’d become. Most of it, however, was because you were afraid. You were afraid that if you told your friends what happened, they’d reject you. Werewolves weren’t accepted in the wizard community. You could only imagine how they’d react. They’d hate you, surely. They’d think you were a monster and a freak. The sad truth is that they’d be right. You were all those things and then some. 

What would you do if you turned and, in your savage state, hurt them, or even kill them? How could you live with yourself? You couldn’t. 

Professor Dumbledore took you under his wing that night. He made sure to help you during those trying times. You were grateful to him. The months following the attack were the closest to hell you ever wanted to get. 

Transforming was the worst of it all. You’d become ill two or three days before the full moon and then again after, causing you to miss classes. You can't remember much once you’ve transformed, only bits and pieces. Not that there would be much to remember. Dumbledore discovered an unused room deep in the dungeons. He protected it with spells and enchantments to make it safe for you to transform while also making it nearly impossible for you to escape.  

The curse put a strain on you, both physically and mentally. It didn’t go unnoticed by those around you. You hardly ate, and when you did it was because Dumbledore wouldn’t let you leave his class if he didn’t see you eat something first. You’d lost an unhealthy amount of weight in a short period of time, causing your uniform to unflatteringly drape over your form. 

It wore on your mind heavily. Multiple times Dumbledore caught you clawing at your wrists during a transformation. It’d gotten so bad he started chaining you to the walls to keep you from harming yourself. You still struggle with those kinds of thoughts, but you’ve gotten better at ignoring them. 

Now, it was late spring, and the school year was nearly over. You slowly started socializing again. You started talking to Davina and Priscilla, who were more than happy to have you around. 

Your professors were understanding and gave you extensions of your assignments and exams, no doubt thanks to Dumbledore. He was the one to convince them and Headmaster Dippet to pardon your absences.  

You were sitting in the courtyard with Davina and Priscilla and reading a book of potions. Davina was telling you and Priscilla about how she and Anthony were going on a date to Hogsmeade tomorrow. She didn’t know what to wear. 

“Why don’t you wear that blue day dress your sister sent you on Christmas,” You propose, your nose still in your book. “It compliments your eyes.”

Davina smiled. “You really think so?”

“Yes, yes, it looks lovely on you,” Priscilla groans, clearly uninterested in the conversation. “Can we please talk about something else?”

“Someone’s testy,” Davina pouts. 

“Is it about Theodore?” You ask. 

Priscilla doesn’t answer. 

“To be fair,” Davina starts. “You were the one who told him to leave you alone.”

“Yes, but I didn’t mean forever!”

Davina laughs. 

“I only wanted to be alone for a while,” Priscilla explains. “He dotes on me so much, and at first it was great, but now...”

“You feel like you’re suffocating?” Davina finishes. 

“Yes! Exactly! He does so much for me without me asking, and I can never do something for him. I don’t know what he wants or what he likes, except that he likes being around me. It’s all very... complicated.”

“Why don’t you tell him that instead of ignoring him,” you suggest. 

“I know you’re not preaching to me about ignoring people,” Priscilla snaps. 

You lower your head back into your book and Davina glares at Priscilla. Priscilla sighs. 

“I’m sorry,” she says. “That wasn’t fair.”

“It’s okay,” you mutter. “You’re right.”

A silence fell between you three. You were going to let it go— change the subject— but Davina couldn’t help but speak what was on her mind. 

“What happened that night?” She asks. 

You look up from your book and furrow your brows. “I’ve already told you. I was trying to apparate when—”

“No, not that,” Davina stops you. “What happened between you and Newt that night. You went to find him and the next thing we know, you’re running off. You and he were inseparable and now you barely look at each other.”

“It’s nothing,” you mumble. “Forget about it.”

“You don’t have to lie to us, (y/n). We only want—”

“I said it’s nothing, okay!?” You angrily shut your book and shove it in your bag before slinging over your shoulder and standing to your feet. “Just... leave it alone.”

You turn on your heels to head back inside, leaving your friends behind. You were stopped when Olivia Abbott and her goons blocked your path. 

“Well, if it isn’t the mute herself,” Olivia sneered. 

You roll your eyes and change your direction to go inside another way, but a burly Gryffindor girl made her way in front of you. 

“Leave me alone, Abbott,” you grumble. 

“Oh!” Olivia gasps. “She does still speak. And here I thought the rumors were true. That you’d been messed up so bad that you couldn’t talk.” Her gang of followers laughed as they cornered you. 

“Is it true?” She asks. “Did Leta Lestrange really beat you in a duel? Did she use the cruciatus curse on you? I heard that she did, that’s what’s got you all funny in the head.”

She mocked you by imitating your newly developed timidity, presenting you as a twitching crazy person. Her group laughed, copying her offensive movements at you. You glared at them and clenched your fists. 

“I have to admit,” she continues. ”I was shocked when I heard what happened. I mean Lestrange was always a pain, but I never knew she had it in her. Then again, she is a Lestrange.”

“Shut up, Abbott,” you growl. 

“Or what?” Olivia pushes you back and you stumble into a column. “You gonna hit me? Please. You’re pathetic. You’ve always been pathetic. Now everyone sees it.”

“What’s with the scarf,” one of the other girls says and tugs on the Hufflepuff scarf that was tightly wrapped around your neck.

“She never takes the bloody thing off these days,” another says. “She makes me feel hot just by looking at her.”

“Why don’t you take it off, (l/n)?” Olivia taunts. “Come on then.” 

Olivia grips the end of your scarf and you instinctively swat her hand away. 

“No!”

Olivia hissed in pain and held her hand to her chest. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was agape. 

“She scratched me!”

You look at her hand and saw two red lines that ran across the top of her hand. You held onto your scarf and backed away from her. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you stutter. “I didn’t mean to... I didn’t...”

Olivia glared at you and pulled out her wand. “You’ll pay for that!”

“Leave her alone!”

Olivia turns her attention to the third party and smirked. 

“Would you look at that,” she grins. “It’s your freak friends.”

You see Davina and Priscilla walking up towards you. Davina was looking at you worriedly, while Priscilla glared at Olivia. You didn't expect to see Leta and Newt following close behind them.

“Let her go,” Newt demands in an attempt to sound threatening, but his naturally fluttering voice wouldn’t allow it. 

Olivia and her gang laughed tauntingly. 

“Why don’t you help, Lestrange?” Olivia teases. “You can go for round two. I’ll even let you take the first shot.”

“Piss off, Olivia,” Priscilla leers. 

“Who asked you, Cain?” Olivia turns back to Leta. “What do you say, Lestrange?”

Leta looks at you for a moment, your eyes meeting briefly. You couldn’t tell what she was thinking. You never could with Leta. You looked at her questioningly as she took out her wand. 

“I’m getting help!” Worried, Davina ran inside the castle to find a professor. 

Olivia grins and looks between you and Leta anxiously. 

“Petrificus Totalus!”

Olivia’s body tightens and a look of pure shock was stuck on her face as she fell to the ground in an unpleasant thud. Her followers gathered around her frantically. 

You look back at Leta to find her already looking at you, along with Newt, who was staring at you in concern.

“What’s going on?”

Bystanding students scrambled from the courtyard, including Olivia’s ‘loyal’ followers. Davina had returned with Professor Dumbledore. He looked at Olivia’s petrified form and then at you. He could see that you were rattled and overwhelmed. 

“(y/n), are you alright?” He asked. 

You felt lightheaded. The excitement of it all made you anxious and many emotions came flooding to you all at once. You suddenly found it hard to breathe. You were taking sharp, shallow breaths and tightly gripping at your scarf. You could feel the tears threatening to break through and you tried your best to keep your composure. 

“I... I have to go,” you tell them. 

Dumbledore stepped closer and made his way to you. “(y/n), tell me what’s wrong.”

You didn’t mean to run away. It seemed to be a habit of yours these days. You couldn’t think of anything else to do. Everything happened so fast, and it was all so overwhelming. 

You didn’t acknowledge the calls of your name as you ran into the castle. Your thoughts raced with you, filling your mind with questions and insecurities. You weave your way through students in attempts to escape. You didn’t realize where you were going until you were in the dungeons. 

You made your way to the room you used for your transformations. You whispered an incantation and the wall disintegrated, revealing a wooden door. You pushed the door open and closed it behind you. The door disappeared and was replaced with a wall of stone. You rest your head on the cool surface, releasing a shaky breath. 

You pressed your back against it and took in your surroundings. It was dark, other than the two sconces that dimly lit the room. You never really took in the surroundings of the room before. You’ve only been inside during the full moon, during which you were in far too much pain to notice. 

Now that you were there, you wished you hadn’t been. The damage of the room couldn’t be distinguished by an animal or a tornado. The walls had been clawed at repeatedly, leaving permanent markings. It appeared the room used to serve as a sort of study, for remnants of a desk and bookshelves scattered the floor.

Your lip quivered and you brought your hands over your mouth to silence your whines. You walk across the room, stepping over shredded books and planks of wood. You kneel in front of the chains used to restrain you. They must have been enchanted because they were the only things that didn't get destroyed in your path. 

You bury your head in your hands as your body wracked with sobs. You weep into your hands, tears flowed from your eyes and down your cheeks. In the heat of the moment, you fiercely ripped the sleeves of your uniform to expose your forearms. 

With your nails, you dug into the flesh of your wrists, ferociously scratching and digging into your skin. You let out shrieks of both pain and frustration. You compulsively claw at your wrist, letting the blood rise and flow onto the floor. You didn’t notice the other presence in the room, too removed from the world around you. 

You didn’t expect a pair of hands to grab yours and pull them away from you. You struggled against their grip, shouting profanities and kicking the area around you. 

“Let go of me!” You scream through your tears. “Let me go you fucking bastard!”

“(y/n), it’s me,” the voice shouts over you, their grip tightening. “This isn’t you! Your emotions are heightened because the full moon is near! You must calm down!”

You look up at your capture, blinking the tears from your eyes to clear your vision, and meeting the troubled eyes of Professor Dumbledore. 

“Oh, dear... What have you done?” 

You looked down at your arms that were clutched in his hands. They were covered in blood. Bits of flesh were left in a sea of red. Your hands started shaking and you let out a cry of horror. 

“I’m sorry!” You wail. “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t! I’m sorry!”

Dumbledore hushed you and pulled you into him, cradling your head in his hands as you wept into his chest. He let you release whatever it was you were feeling without interruption. When you grew too tired to cry any longer, you both sat in silence, aside from your shaky breaths and reoccurring sniffs. 

Dumbledore released you from his embrace and took your wrists. You watched him as he put his hands over the wounds on your right arm. A soft white light emitted from his palm and tingling sensation vibrated under your skin, healing the gashes and cleaning the blood from your arm. You let him do the same to the other.

You pulled your arms to your chest and absentmindedly rubbed the soreness in your wrists. Dumbledore breathed through his nose and looked at you. You knew he wanted you to say something, anything, but he wouldn’t pry. You didn’t look at him, too ashamed to meet his gaze. 

“Did I... Did I turn her?” You croak. Your throat was dry from crying.

“Who?” He asked.

“Olivia,” you say. “She reached for my scarf... I didn’t mean to, she just made me so... so angry. I hit her hand and I-I guess I scratched her. That’s what she said, that I scratched her, and I didn’t mean to, but I did and I...”

Your throat tightened and you could feel the tears threatening to escape. You look up at Dumbledore with watery eyes. 

“I didn’t turn her, did I?”

“Is that what this is about? You think you turned her into a werewolf?” 

You bow your head and stare at your hands in your lap. 

“What happened to me... It ruined my life. It took everything from me. I haven’t been able to sleep well since. There are times where I can’t even look myself in the mirror because what I see makes me sick to my stomach.”

Dumbledore listened to you. His brows were knitted together, taking in everything you were saying. 

“I don’t belong anymore. Being this. Doing this.” You gestured to the room around you. “Turning into an uncontrollable beast every month... experiencing unbearable pain... I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone. Not even my worst enemy. Not even her.”

Dumbledore sighed and gave you a tight-lipped smile. He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, causing you to glance up at him. 

“You did not turn her,” he assured you. You felt a weight lift from your heart, the guilt leaving your body. 

“A witch or wizard can only turn into a werewolf when bitten by one under the full moon,” he tells you. “Did you bite her?”

You shook your head. 

“And is it a full moon?”

You shook your head again.

“Then she is not a werewolf. You scratched her, so she may start craving raw meat once in a while, but she will not be howling at the moon anytime soon,” he jokes, earning a soft chuckle from you. 

“And you are not a monster, (y/n). Once you start believing that, you’ll find yourself able to live again. This didn’t ruin your life, your life has only just started. It is merely an ailment, and you cannot change it. When you learn to live with it, you will be happy again.”

You sniffed and wiped your tears with the back of your hands. You gave Dumbledore a closed smile. 

“Thank you, Professor.”

He mimicked your smile and nodded. He then stood to his feet and held out his hand for you to take. You took it and he helped you rise up. 

“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off. I will tell your other professors that you aren’t feeling well.”

You nodded, following him to the entrance of the room. 

•••      

“That’s it!” You gasp. 

You hurriedly closed the potions book you were reading and slid off your bed. Davina watched you inquisitively. You reach for your bag under your bed and put the book inside it. 

“What are you doing?” Davina asked sleepily,  having been awoken by your distracting bustling.  

You kneel in front of your trunk and unlock it, lifting it open. Whatever was inside rattled as you used your hands to move its contents in search of your desired item. You raise an empty jar into your hand and you smile. 

“It’s nothing,” you spoke softly. “Nothing important, that is. Sorry, if I woke you. You can rest now.”

You put an assortment of vials, bottles, and jars into your bag before flipping the flap and fastening it closed. You rose from your knees and take your robe from the lower corner post of your bed. Davina sat up in her bed, a slight frown graced her features. 

“Are you going somewhere?”

You nodded as you put your robe on over your nightgown. You find your scarf and securely wrap it around your neck. “Yes, um, to the bathroom.”

Davina narrows her eyes while you sling your bag over your shoulder. “You’re going to the bathroom... outside?”

“Oh, you know me,” you fain a smile. “I’m never one to miss an opportunity to go outside. Don’t wait for me.”

Davina scoffed and you waved to her goodbye. You quietly opened the door and cautiously peek your head into the hall to ensure no one else saw you. When you saw that it was clear, you slip out of the room and carefully close the door behind you with a soft click.

You crept down the stairs and into the common room. You halt in your tracks when you notice the unmistakable red hair that glowed by the light of the fire peaking behind the lounge. 

He appeared to be sleeping. His head rested on the arm of the sofa and soft snores could be heard over the crackling of the fire. You released a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You grip your bag tightly, holding it to your side. You walk on the balls of your feet behind the sofa in an attempt to sneak by. However, fate was cruel, and a loose wood plank acted as a foil to your quest. 

You cringe at the loud creak, muttering a curse under your breath. A rustling came from beyond the couch and a tired, freckled face emerged from the sofa. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and squints in your direction. 

“(y/n)?” Newt yawns sleepily. 

You panic and rush to one of the secret passageways hidden in the corner of the room. 

“W-wait! (y/n)!” Newt stumbles from the sofa and stands to his feet. You freeze in your crouched state.“Don't... Don’t leave. Please.”

You close your eyes in defeat and sigh. “Why are you down here, Newt?”

Newt chuckles nervously.

“It’s silly,” he says. “Allen Bigsby has allergies... The pollen makes him snore terribly loud— makes it hard for me to sleep.”

You shift your body to face him. He was wearing a pair of pajamas that had a pattern of magical beasts on them. You’d gotten those pajamas for him last Christmas. He was much shorter then. Now the pant legs ride up halfway to his shin, and the once long sleeves turned into quarter sleeves.

Newt clears his throat and tucks his thumb into the waistband of his pants, rubbing the soft material between his fingers. “Are you going to the lake?”

You didn’t respond, only looked up at him. His curls were disheveled and matted from his sleep, some straying tresses fell in his face. He must not have noticed, but he missed a button on his shirt, making it appear crooked. The light from the fire highlighted his features, which were contorted into an expression of anxiety. 

“When I got the chance to talk to you again, I hadn’t imagined it like this,” he chuckles to himself, creating that characteristic lopsided smirk on his lips. “I’ve... I’ve been wanting to talk to you about—”

“Do you want to come with me?”

Newt snapped his head to look you in the eyes for the first time in what felt like forever. You had forgotten what his hazel eyes looked like. Now that you’d seen them again, you didn’t want to take your eyes from them. 

“Go with you?”

You take your wand from under your robe and tap the wall six times in a specific rhythm.  The sound of stone rubbing against stone rumbled lowly as the bricks parted to reveal a tunnel. 

“Lumos.” The end of your wand released a faint blue light. Newt watched you crawl into the hole, the glow of your wand fading as you continued down the passage. 

“The wall will close,” you warn. Your voice echoed through the tunnel. 

A door upstairs was opened and Newt directed his attention towards the banister. 

“Scamander? What are you doing out of bed?” It was the Hufflepuff Prefect. 

Newt hurriedly followed you into the passage. The prefect could be heard rushing down the stairs, angrily calling his name. 

Newt took his wand that was tucked into the waistband of his pants and held it towards the entrance.

“Scamander! Get out of there right now!” 

Newt flicks his wand and a faint light beamed from it. The prefect's irritated expression was the last thing he saw before the stones shifted to seal the opening.

“Nice one.”

Newt nearly jumped out of his skin from your sudden vocation of approval. He didn’t notice your closeness until he heard your voice in his ear. You snicker and he sighs in relief. 

“I really do hate it when you do that,” he mutters. 

“Come on,” you twitch your head in the direction you intended to go. 

Newt followed you quietly. He didn’t understand anything that was happening. You hadn’t talked to him in months and now you suddenly want him to join you in doing... he didn’t even know what you were doing. 

“(y/n), I don’t understand. What are we doing?”

“This way.” You make a sharp right turn and lead Newt down a totally different path than what he was used to. 

You reached a wooden door at the end of the path. You went to open it, but it was locked. 

“Alohomora,” you whisper. The door clicked and you went to open it again, this time it did. 

You and Newt entered into a large storage room. It was filled with old artifacts, books, and potions. 

“What are we doing here, (y/n)? What is this place?”

You left his side and head towards a wall of potions. You drag your fingers over the dusty bottles in search of the correct one. Newt was becoming irritated. You were purposely avoiding his questions. He shouldn’t be surprised, you’d avoided him entirely the last few months. But it hurt more for you to do it to his face. 

“This is the one, I’m sure of it.” You grab a vial from the shelf partially filled with a clear liquid. 

“Sure of what? Why are we here, (y/n)?” Newt prodded. 

You tuck the vial into a pocket of your bag. Turning around, you let out a huff from your nose. “If we’re going to do this you can’t ask questions. Do you understand?” 

Newt opened his mouth to speak once more, no doubt to protest, but you stopped him before you could. 

“Do you understand?” You persist. 

Newt clenched his jaw and nodded, bowing his head submissively. 

You smiled and tugged on your scarf. “Good. Now, let's be off... then.”

You trailed off, your focus suddenly being pulled from Newt. Newt noticed your sudden change in tone and snuck a look at you. He cocked his head to the side. You weren’t looking at him, rather somewhere behind him. You swallowed a lump in your throat and inched backward until your back hit the shelf of potions behind you.

Whether it was the clatter of the bottles shifting, or the sudden pressure of the shelf pressing your back, he did not know, but a startled gasp jolted from your lips. Just when Newt braved to take a step towards you, a low growl came not far from behind him. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off them. They were staring at you, staring through you. Those large pointed eyes that floated in the shadows. Newt followed your petrified gaze over his shoulder. A pair of wolfish eyes stared back at him. 

Unlike you, Newt wasn’t struck with fear upon seeing the beast. Instead, the creature piqued his interest. He angled his body in a crouching manner as to not threaten it.

“It’s alright,” he said. “I won’t hurt you.”

An abrupt rush of déjà vu wafted through you. Suddenly you were back in the glade, staring deep into the eyes of the werewolf that cursed you, calling it towards you. Newt beckons the creature, holding his hand out towards it. 

You found yourself able to talk, using the spark of courage that ignited in you to warn him. “Newt, don’t!”

The beast takes a threatening step out from the shadows. A large wolf with white fur and a pointed snout stalked towards you. It displayed its teeth, snarling and drooling as it drew closer. 

Newt's eyes were filled with awe as he peered up at the unusual beast. 

“Beautiful.” The word fell from his lips no louder than a whisper. 

The wolf lunged for Newt and he braced himself for impact. Expecting the weight of a 200-pound beast, he was surprised when he felt a sudden tug on his shirt instead. 

“Mobilicorpus!”

Newt opened his eyes to see the wolf’s open mouth snapping at him. It missed him by merely an inch. His body was suspended in the air as a powerful force dragged him away. He only stopped when his back collided with something hard and soft at the same time. You hiss as his weight makes you crash into the shelf behind you. 

Newt falls to the ground and groans. You kneel down next to him and take him by the arm, sitting him up straight.

“Are you alright?” You breathed. 

He nodded. “Yes, I’m quite alright. Thank you.”

You smiled, letting out a breathy laugh as you rolled your eyes at your impossible friend. The moment was cut short at the sound of the wolf’s howl. You snapped your attention to the wolf that had disappeared from its original spot in the room. 

“Where did it go?” Newt whirled his head around in search of the beast. 

“We need to leave.” You pull Newt to his feet and direct him to the exit. You ran hand and hand, desperate to escape. Your heart was racing and your blood was full of adrenaline. You were acting on pure instinct. On pure fear. 

You were nearly there when you felt Newt’s hand slip from yours. You stop and whip your body around to find Newt laying on the ground. He’d tripped over a pile of rubbish. You rush to his side and take his outstretched hand. You try to help him stand, but his knees buckle from under him. He hissed in pain and held his leg. 

Then, like a bloodhound catching the scent of a wounded deer, the wolf emerged from behind a bookcase not twenty feet away from you. Just as vicious as it had presented itself, the beast directed its aggression towards you. It positioned its body to charge, bending its hind legs and drawing the front. 

It lunged towards you, barking and snarling. You pointed your wand at the lines of bookcases that narrowed your path. The wolf increased its speed, nearing closer. 

“Flipendo Tria!”

A swirl of wind accumulated from nothing, creating a small funnel similar to a tornado. It darted around the room, knocking away anything in its path. The shelves collapsed to the ground, one by one. The wolf skillfully dodged the ones in its way. 

“Try to stay with me!” You wrap Newt’s arm over your shoulder and pull him close, wrapping your other arm around his waist. You help him up and he hobbles on his foot. 

You pick up your speed, leading Newt to the door. The collection of shelves tumbled behind you, successfully delaying the wolf. You could hear it struggling over the collision of wood and books crashing to the floor. The ground trembled with each clash. 

You aim your wand at the door and flicked your wrist. The door swung open revealing the same passage from which you came. With much endurance, you and Newt propel your bodies forward, leaping through the threshold. You twist your body in the air, directing your wand to the storage room door. 

The wolf mimicked your movements, leaping over a pile of fallen debris and baring its canines at you. When you met its eyes, a feeling of familiarity washed over you. It was as if you were locking eyes with an old friend once thought lost. It was so profuse, it drew a tear from your eye. 

“Colloportus!”  

The timber door sealed itself, separating the wolf from you, and locking with a satisfying click. You fall to your back, sliding on the stone to a stop. The air from your lungs left your body and you inhaled sharply to replace it. The door shuddered from the wolf’s impact. It rammed into it several times, its sounds of frustration carried beyond the door, until they stopped altogether, and the door stopped shaking. 

With much difficulty, you turn on your side to see Newt eyeing the door. You use your elbows to help you sit up, and you crawl towards him. You quickly wipe the tears that stained your cheek. 

“Let me see,” you sniff and support his back on the wall.  

His ankle was somewhat swollen, but it was not broken, simply sprained and bruised. 

You touch his ankle with your wand. “Ferula,” you mutter. 

Bandages wrap around his angle and fasten themselves. Newt experimentally rolled his ankle, noting how the pain had subsided. You breathe a sigh of relief and close your eyes. You sit limply beside him on the wall. 

Newt looked at you. You were staring blankly at the floor, clearly deep in thought. He was going to ask if you were alright, but remembered your rule of not asking questions, and stopped himself. 

You suddenly reach into your bag, digging into one of its pockets to pull out the vial. You held it in your hand and eyed it carefully. Newt was surprised when a low laugh erupted from your chest. It was a sort of melancholic laughter, one spurred from both fear and relief. Even still, he’d missed seeing a smile on your face. He smiled to himself. You’d become so stoic that any form of amusement that brought a smile to your lips was welcomed by him. 

“We should probably head back,” you concluded after your spontaneous fit. 

You carefully help Newt up to his feet and you both dust the dirt from your bodies. The walk back to the Hufflepuff Common room was awkward, to say the least. You didn’t say anything about what had happened. Your mannerisms gave off the impression that you didn’t want to talk about it at all. 

Newt didn’t understand it. Any of it. Why did you need that potion? What was it for? Why was it so important for you to get and why did you have to sneak around to get it? So many questions went through his mind and he desperately wanted to ask them. But your warning echoed in his head. Do not ask questions. 

You weren’t sure what was going on in his head. You wished you could tell him everything, but it wasn’t that simple. Newt appeared to be having a crisis. He’d been stuttering and swallowing words since you’d left the storage room. 

You stop abruptly to face him. “Newt, what’s wrong?”

He stares at you wide-eyed. “Nothing,” he says.

You lift a suspecting brow and purse your lips. 

“You’ve been having a fit since we left. What is it? Spit it out,” you demand.

“B...B-But you said not to ask questions,” he mutters. 

You smile softly at him. “I didn’t mean ever again.”

“Oh,” he blushes. “Then can I ask you something?”

You nod. “Of course.”

Newt toys with the bottom of his shirt. “What is that vial for?”

You bite the inside of your cheek and reached for the vial and presented it in your hand. 

“It’s liquid moonlight,” you tell him. “It’s very rare and hard to find. It only exists in several areas of the world in pools of water that receive magical properties from the moon. If properly diluted, it can be used in potion-making.”

“You’re making a potion? What for?”

Your eyes shift and you tuck the vial back in its pocket. “I found an ancient sort of transfiguration potion. Professor Selket said she’d improve my grade if I presented her with a ‘unique and perfect potion’. I know she was probably being pessimistic, but I’d like to prove her wrong. And I have to make up for my absences somehow.”

It wasn’t a total lie, half of it was true. It was a vial of liquid moonlight and you were making a potion. It was a half-lie. A believable one. A passable one. Newt seemed to buy it, and that was enough for now. Content with what you told him, you continue down the tunnel.

“I see,” Newt says, following close behind. “And that wolf... It wasn’t an ordinary wolf, was it?”

“I... I don’t know,” you say truthfully. 

“I’ve never seen a wolf quite like it,” he tells you. “It was much larger than an average wolf, I’m sure. It must be a rare magical breed. And its eyes, I felt like I’d seen them before— in a book perhaps— but I can’t remember. I wonder why it’s locked up down there. Do you think someone’s hiding it? Maybe we should go back, it could be hurt and I could—”

“Newt!”

Newt closed his mouth and cringed slightly. 

“I don’t know what that thing was,” you tell him. “And I don’t want to know. It nearly killed us, it nearly killed you. I won't go back there. I won’t.”

Newt looked down at your hands. One of them tightly gripped your wand, the other trembled by your side. You were afraid. 

You’d come upon the end of the tunnel and opened the sealed entrance. You crawled through it and turn to help Newt out as well. 

When you closed the entrance you made your way to the couch and sat down, absently gazing at the fire. Newt took a cautious step beside you, unsure of whether to sit or stand. 

You felt his hovering presence and looked up at him. He was staring at the floor, or rather your feet. You tap the seat next to you. 

“Sit down,” you encouraged. 

He gingerly sat beside you, resting his hands in his lap. You watch the flames together, the crackle of the fire filled the silence that followed. There was some unspoken thing between you, it was hard to ignore. Neither of you knew what to say, so you said the first thing that came to your minds. 

“I’m sorry.” 

It was like an echo, the sound of his words mixing with yours. Your heart swelled and you found yourself smiling, a real, genuine smile, the first one you’ve had since the accident. Newt’s cheeks tinted red and he avoided your eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he faltered. 

“Don’t be,” you insist. “I should be the one apologizing. What I did to you was unfair. I never should have pushed you away. It’s just been... difficult. I’ve been struggling with some things—things I can’t really say. But, I’m working on them. And— if you're not too angry with me— I was hoping that, maybe, we can pick up where we left off.”

Newt smiled and blinked excessively before shifting his eyes to you. 

“I could never be angry with you, (y/n).” 

Your heart leaped in your chest. You acted before thinking, pulling Newt into a strong embrace and wrapping your arms around his neck. Newt was taken aback by the sudden gesture. You’d never hugged him before. He tensed, still new to having you so close to him, until eventually, he rested his head on your shoulder and wrapped his arms around your waist. You felt yourself melt in his arms, wanting nothing more than to stay there. 

You pull away from Newt, a grin still plastered on your face. 

“Do you think Leta will forgive me as well?” You ask.

Newt nodded. “Yes, I think she will.”

•••      

When you had gotten tired and left to sleep in your room, Newt stayed in the common room. Newt knew that you were keeping something from him. He didn’t know what, or why you felt like you had to keep it from him, but he hoped that you’d tell him soon, now that you were together again. 

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder about the wolf in the dungeon storage room. He couldn’t make sense of it. As far as he knew, the storage room had no other entrance or exit other than the one they’d come in. Unless there was another hidden entrance apart from the tunnel system, he couldn’t see how the wolf had gotten inside the room, considering its size wouldn’t allow it to fit in the narrow tunnel. 

And the wolf was no average wolf, he was sure of that. Why would such a creature be left in a place like that? Had someone put it there? Did it find its way inside somehow? How long had it lived in there? None of it made sense. 

He couldn’t help himself. His affinity for fantastical beasts often clouded his better judgment. Driven by passion, he ventured back to the storage room alone. He remembered the path well enough and happened to stumble upon the door after a few odd turns. He placed his ear against the cool wood of the door for any indication of the wolf. Oddly enough, he didn’t hear anything. Suspecting there was an imperturbable charm placed on the door, he thought nothing of it.

“Alohamora.” The door unlocked and Newt discreetly opened it.

The room was left in shambles. Debris and remnants of books and potions scattered the walls and floors. Newt closed the door behind him before stepping over the piles of rubbish. A rustling came from the corner of the room, catching his eye. A lone bookcase stood towards the back of the room. Newt cautiously made his way to the bookcase. The books that resided in it trembled from the force of the creature behind it. 

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Newt said. “You can come out.”

When the wolf didn’t show itself to him, he decided to approach it himself. He poked his head over the side of the bookcase, expecting to see a threatened wolf cowering in the corner. Instead, he saw something he hoped he’d never see again.  He quickly moved from the bookcase, closing his eyes in fear, his heart thumping like a rabbit’s. 

“It’s not her,” he whispered to himself as he calmed his breathing. “It’s not real.”

The image was burned into his eyelids. It took him a while to calm down, to remind himself it was a lie, a trick to make him afraid. Newt finally understood. He was right, the wolf they saw earlier was not an average wolf. It wasn’t a wolf at all, but a boggart that had been trapped there for who knows how long. Seeing how you were the first person to enter the room and the first one to see it, it took the shape of your greatest fear. 

Yours had changed, just like his. Yours was the wolf. 

•••      

The end of June came faster than expected. You concluded that the saying “Time flies when you’re having fun” did hold some merit. The last couple of months since your closure with Newt and Leta were the best you had in a while. Newt was right about Leta being willing to forgive you. Despite what others thought about her, she was one of the kindest people you knew, she just had her own way of showing it. 

The three of you soon fell back into the swing of things, causing mischief and going on miniature adventures. It felt great to be smile again, to laugh with your friends, and to smile with meaning. Now that it was almost time to leave, you wished you had spent more of the year with your friends than in constant fear and pain. 

You were reading in your bed when one of your roommates, Azra, entered the room. 

“(y/n),” she called. “Professor Dumbledore is looking for you. He says it's urgent.” 

Not wanting to keep him waiting, you close your book, placing it on the nightstand, and leave to his office. You knock on his door and he voices for you to enter. 

You peek your head through the crack you made between the door and the frame. 

“You sent for me Professor?” You ask. 

His office was rather cosey. It was a hexagonal room, with just enough space for a fireplace, a few cabinets, and a large desk. Dumbledore was leaning against the wall and looking out one of the two north-facing windows behind his desk. 

“Yes, (y/n), please come in,” He says. “Oh, and close the door behind you.”

You do as he says and enter his office. 

“Have a seat, there is something I must discuss with you.”

You sensed the seriousness in his tone and took the seat across from his desk. You nervously played with the tassels of your scarf. 

“What is it you’d like to discuss?”

Dumbledore turned his attention from the rolling grey clouds outside to you. 

“I’ve noticed your change in behavior the last couple of months,” he began. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Leta and Newt again. You’re happier. Am I correct in my observations?”

“I didn’t think I would ever say such a thing again, but yes. I am very happy,” you admit. “I missed them a lot.”

Dumbledore smiled at you and took a seat in his chair across from you. “Have you told them?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“I thought we agreed you would tell them. They have a right to know, (y/n).”

“No, they don’t,” you retort. “Things have been fine just as it is— great even. If I tell them they’ll...”

You hold your tongue and bow your head, having explained your fears far too many times to repeat. 

“(y/n), have Leta and Newt not proven their loyalty to you?” He asks. “Have they given you any doubt about their friendship with you?”

When you didn’t answer, Dumbledore pursed his lips and nodded. 

“I know what you are feeling,” he empathized. “But you must understand that no matter how close they get, they will always have room for you in their hearts.”

You met his eyes that were filled with a comforting sort of kindness. 

“What if you’re wrong?”

He presented you with a wry smirk.

“On the rare occasion that I am wrong, I will personally obliviate the memory from them myself,” he vows. “They will not remember you told them your secret.”

You blink in surprise. “Professor...”

“But,” he adds. “If I am right, you will find yourself surrounded with love and support from the people you care most about.”

Dumbledore rises from his seat, and you hastily mimic his movements.

“If you so chose to tell them, I hope you do it soon. You are aware that next week is the full moon?”

You nod. “Yes, I figured it was about time.”

“Did you know that the full moon is the night before your departure from Hogwarts?”

No, you hadn’t known. It had slipped your mind completely. 

“Have you prepared everything?” 

“No,” you shamefully admit. “There are still some things I have left to find. But sir, if the full moon is the night before the train leaves, how will I make it to the train in the morning?”

“You won’t,” he says simply. “You will be far too ill to take the train, as you are well aware. You will not be able to leave with the other students, not until you are well enough.”

“My parents––”

“Will be notified of your late arrival,” He assures you. “All they will know is that you are staying to help the prefects with clearing the dorms for two days. An owl will be sent tomorrow morning.”

Dumbledore makes his way around the desk to you. He places his hands on your shoulders and shakes you gently.

“I know it scares you,” he says. “But it’s a part of you now. Who you trust to share it with is up to you.”

“Thank you, Professor,” you say. “Is that all?”

He lets out a breath through his nose and nods, releasing you from his grip. “Yes, that is all.”

You go to leave his office when he calls for you again, making you crane your neck over your shoulder to face him. He throws you a set of keys and you catch them in your hands.

“I think you’ll find what you’re looking for in the restricted section,” he advises. “Try looking for something along the lines of ‘Wolfsbane’. I think you’ll find it useful.”

You close the door to his office and open your hand to observe the rusted keys. You grip them tightly and make your way to the Library. 

•••      

Newt was sitting underneath the bowtruckle tree and writing in his journal. He was analyzing a certain bowtruckle he’d taken kindly to when something caught his attention. 

A speck of blue and yellow flashed by him, catching his eye. He knew it was you because your Hufflepuff scarf flapped behind you as you quickly made your way to the Forbidden Forest. Only you would insist on wearing the thick scarf in the middle of summer. 

He was curious, however, as to why you were in such a rush to go into the forest. You hadn’t stepped foot in the forest in months, and whenever he and Leta insisted on going to the glade you were very keen on going anywhere but there. 

Newt closed his journal and tucked it into the waistband of his trousers. The bowtruckle he was studying squeaked and crawled up his arm to his shoulder. Newt looked at the pesky creature and smiled. 

“It’s about time you meet someone, Pickett.”

•••      

You made your way through the forest with much difficulty. Not that you didn’t know where you were going, you knew exactly where to go. The fairy glade was a place you could find with your eyes closed. The memories that resided there where your biggest challenge. 

When you came upon the glade a part of you felt peace. It looked just like how you remembered it. The brook flowed gracefully, and the grass was the brightest shade of green you’ve ever seen. You slide your bag off your shoulder and drop it in the grass. You found yourself gravitating to the edge of the brook, staring at your reflection in the ripples. 

You jumped in surprise when another figure emerged from behind you. 

“Newt!” You yelp as you rush to your feet. You must have miss-stepped because your foot slipped from under you. Newt reached to grab you, but he too managed to lose his bearings. 

You instinctively grab the closest thing you could find, which happened to be his outstretched hand. You shriek as you fall onto your back into the brook, pulling Newt down with you. The cold water soaked through your clothes and hair and you groan from the weight of Newt’s body on your chest. 

Newt placed his hands in the water to reach the rocky floor and pushed himself up. You dug your elbows into the mud to lift your back from the cool running water. You both wipe the water that splashed on your face and laugh. 

“Sorry,” you giggle. “That was my fault.”

Newt smiled and blinked the water from his eyes. He didn’t notice it at first, due to the hilarity of the situation. While you were rubbing the water from your eyes when Newt discerned just how close you were. He was straddling you, his knees on either side of your hips, and your faces merely inches apart. 

When you opened your eyes Newt’s cheeks burned a faint red. You looked up at him through long curled lashes with your deep (e/c) eyes. They appeared brighter than normal due to the sun that shined on them. He always liked how round your eyes were, how they seemed to capture the entire world. Your breath tickled his nose and filled it with the smell of mint and butterbeer. Your hair fell in wet curls around your face. Your lips were parted slightly and he noted how your front teeth tended to peak between them like a rabbit’s.

The sudden closeness made your heart flutter. You fell shy under his blatant stare. His eyes were a satisfying mix of honey brown and a mossy green with persistent flecks of icy blue. It was like staring into the forest on an autumn morning where the sparkling frost of the approaching winter had dusted the grass and leaves the night before. The numerous freckles that decorated his face made their own constellations over his lightly tanned skin. The sunlight that broke through the tree branches had collected in his hair, turning his russet brown hair into a mesmerizing curly mop of copper. 

Newt’s hand seemed to move on its own, reaching up to your cheek, and brushing away a pesky spot of mud that had found its way just under your eye with his thumb. It lingered there for a moment, a second longer than needed. You shiver from the unexpected touch, your eyes drifting to his lips. Newt swallowed nervously and retracted his hand.

“It was dirt,” he uttered. “Just there.” 

“Thank you,” you breathe, your heart thumping in your chest. 

Your hypnotic gaze broke when a fussy bowtruckle crawled on top of Newt’s head. It squeaked in a tone you could only relate to annoyance. The leafy being scampered through his curls and tugging on his bangs. Newt crossed his eyes to look at it hanging from his hair. The funny creature appeared to be scolding Newt, most likely due to it having become doused with water as well. You stifled a giggle at the strange interaction. 

“Right. It’s about time you met.” Newt untangled the bowtruckle from his hair and held it in his hand between you. “(y/n), this is Pickett. Pickett, meet (y/n).”

“Hello,” you smile at the adorable creature. Pickett trilled as though to say hello. 

“He’s usually quite shy,” Newt explains. “But, he seems to like you.”

Newt motions for you to take him and you lift your hand next to his. Pickett crawls onto your palm and looks up at you curiously.

“Well, I like him too,” you giggle. 

Newt gave you a dimpled grin, one you happily reciprocated. You carefully placed Pickett back into Newt’s hand. Pickett then crawled up Newt’s arm and perched himself on his shoulder. 

Newt pushed himself up to his feet and held out his hand for you to take. You slid your hand in his and he pulled you up from the brook. He used his wand to dry your clothes and hair. A warm gust of air blew from the tip until you were perfectly dry, before doing the same for himself. 

“Thanks, again,” you chuckle awkwardly. 

Newt simpered, sneaking fond glances at you as you adjust your clothes. His eyes happened to land on your neck that was exposed due to your scarf shifting. His smile faded as his heart sank. Three gnarly gashes that have healed to light scars ran from just under your chin, down your neck, and disappeared beneath the collar of your dress shirt.

He’d never seen them before and the sight alone made his eyes sting with tears. He recalled your accident, how bloodied your limp body was in Professor Dumbledore’s arms. You’d told him the same lie you told Davina and Priscilla, that you had gotten splinched in an attempt to apparate. But that wasn’t like you. And the scars on your neck did not resemble the characteristic spiral a splinched victim would be marked with. Instead, the scars were jagged and gave the impression that the wound was deep, having been given by something with immense force.

You were oblivious to his staring and readjusted your scarf to cover the damage. Newt blinked away the tears that threatened to spill and cleared his throat. You move your eyes to see him fidgeting with his robe, fondling the dark, cerulean fabric between his thumb and forefinger, a known nervous habit of his. You tip your head to the side and your brows curl upward. 

“Are you alright, Newt?” 

He nods and blinks rapidly. “Yes,” he mutters before clearing his throat for a second time. “I’m fine,” he answers, strongly this time.

You purse your lips and nod, ignorant to his lingering stare. You reach for your bag and straighten your posture. You whip your head around the glade in a scouring manner. 

“Newt?” You call. “Do you know where those tall, blue flowers are? Aren’t they somewhere near here?”

Newt turns his head to his left, to another part of the glade that went deeper into the forest. “Yes. They grew over there if I remember correctly. But they don’t—”

“Thank’s Newt!” You hurry past him towards the area he’d pointed out. 

You follow the edge of the brook, stepping over and climbing on stones in the process until you came upon a clearing. The place that had once brought you serenity was now tainted with the blood of your demise. You couldn’t shake the chill that made the hairs on the back of your neck rise and goosebumps appear on your arms. 

As much as it would enlighten you to know that as long as the sun was still out and the moon was not full, that you were safe, you still felt like the scared little girl staring into the eyes of your disastrous fate. 

You did your best to dismiss the part of you that desperately wanted to flee. Flashes of that night played in your mind. You didn’t remember much, but the parts you did remember were the worst of it. You could recall the pain, the smell, the sounds, the chill, everything that you wanted to forget. But, you couldn’t let it disable you. You were in a dire position. Were things to go right, you wouldn’t have to feel such pain again. 

You flip the flap of your bag and pull from it a large leatherback book that smelled of biblichor and mildew. You flip to the page you had marked, displaying a well-illustrated picture of the electric blue flowers that you’d come to love. ‘Wolfsbane’ was written above it in calligraphy, preceding notes, and findings of the peculiar flora.  

You scour the glade for the flower, and yet, you seemed to find every form of flora but the one you sought. The sound of footsteps behind you approached slowly and you spun around to see Newt and Pickett stumbling through the shrubbery. 

“It isn’t here,” you say as he makes his way towards you. 

“No,” he confirms. “That’s what I was trying to tell you. They don’t grow here anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

Newt points to the large oak tree in the center of the clearing and guides you to it. 

“They grew here, remember?” He gestured to the bed of grass that surrounded it. You noticed how the grass that grew around the oak tree was much smaller than the rest of the field. It was composed of sprouts and patches of moss. 

“I don’t understand.” You crouch to your knee in front of the oak and touch the ground with your fingers. “How can they not grow here? They were always here.  They’ve always been here.”

“It happened a few months ago,” Newt began. “Something burned the oak tree. Nearly burned the entire glade, I suspect, had it not died out on its own.”  

Suddenly, a wave of regret came crashing down over you. A flicker of a memory, a peek into your subconscious, doused you with bitter anguish. The irony of the situation was that you were in search of an ingredient to a potion that, theoretically, could ease your strife during the full moon, however, that essential ingredient had been burned by your own hands in the heat of survival. 

Newt placed a hand on your shoulder. Tears filled your eyes and you angrily wiped them away on the sleeve of your robe. You jolt to your feet and face him. 

“Why do you need them?” He asks.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said gruffly. “They’re gone. There's nothing I can do about it.” You shove the book into your bag and feign a smile. “It wasn’t important anyway.” 

You bid Newt and Pickett farewell, leaving them in the glade as you rushed back to the castle grounds. 

•••      

Staying awake late at night had become a custom of yours. You suspected it related to your curse, being a creature of the night. The night brought you comfort when the moon was waning. Having struggled to fall asleep, you snuck out of bed, as you so often did, and sought solace at the Great Lake. 

You thought the night enhanced the world's natural beauty. While most feared the shadows and the beasts that hid in them, you focused on how the moonlight made the water sparkle, how the fireflies decorated the fields, and how the crickets performed their symphonies for all to hear. You supposed it all became easier to enjoy, now that you were one of the beasts lurking in the shadows.

You were resting on a tree, staring far off into the valley the Great Lake disappeared into. You and Newt often talked of sailing that way, to the west. To the sun until you reached a new place with new adventures. Newt once promised to you that the two of you would travel the world and discover new and exciting things together. He would write his book on magical beasts, and you would help him along the way. It was a childish dream, but you held onto the thought. 

You’d been resting your eyes when the slightest tickle crept up your leg. At first, you thought nothing of it, but the tickle had moved from your leg to your hand that rested in your lap. You open your eyes and look down to see Pickett crawling his way onto your palm. The corner of your mouth twitched upwards and you pet the creature with your forefinger, much to his satisfaction. 

“And what are you doing out here, Pickett? Couldn’t sleep either?”

A soft grunt came from behind you and you whirled your body around and squint to see who it had come from. 

“Actually, he’s with me.”

“Newt?”

Newt was indeed standing there, still in his robes, with his hands behind his back. 

“What are you doing out here?” You lilt in your drowsy state.

“Looking for you,” he says. 

“Well, it seems your friend here beat you to it,” you drawl, letting Pickett nestle himself in your lap as you readjust your position to face the lake once more. 

You hear Newt walk towards you, and he takes a seat beside you. You sit in silence for a moment, just enjoying each other's company for the time being. 

“Remember the last time we sat together like this? Just the two of us?” You muse. “It was our second year. We had been swimming for the entire afternoon. When we got tired, we sat right here to watch the sun go down.” 

You laugh to yourself. “I had just about dozed off on your shoulder when, suddenly, you turned to me and said we should quit school, and sail down the valley to wherever the wind takes us,” you smile at the memory. “Don’t you remember?”

“Yes, I remember.” A thoughtful smile rose on his lips. “You flicked me in the head for saying it. You told me that you weren’t leaving this place until you got the satisfaction of seeing Professor Selket’s face when you get appointed head girl.”

“It will truly be a sight to see,” you chuckle. “The old crone has it out for me. She already thinks of me as a nuisance, I can’t prove her right now can I?”

That, however, wasn’t the truth. While you did strive to be head girl and would love to prove the condescending witch wrong, those were merely a mask for what you truly wanted to say.  

You would've liked to have said yes. You almost did, in the heat of the moment. You didn’t understand it then, but that day you realized that you would go anywhere with Newt if he asked. You would follow him to the ends of the earth if it meant that every day you would be together. 

It was a feeling you never experienced. The desire to be with someone so much, that you would leave everything behind. It was different than a closeness between friends, you knew that. And it scared you. 

For Newt, it was just a spring of the moment platonic gesture between friends. For you, it was a proposal for two people to be so much more than that. As a young adolescent, such revelations are damaging to the brain. Your mind can’t handle such complex emotions and so you react rashly, without thought or better judgment. 

So of course instead of calling Newt’s bluff and opening doors into a separate, more difficult conversation, you flicked your ambitious friend in the center of his forehead and feigned responsibility. Because it was easiest. 

Your eyes softened and you felt your skin become warm. 

“So, instead of packing our bags and running off that night, we promised each other that we would travel the world together as soon as we finished school. Looking back on it now, I wonder how different things would have been if we had gone that day... A bit silly, isn’t it?”

Newt’s eyes drifted to you. Your eyes reflected the moonlight, its hue turning your skin a soft shade of blue. It reminded him of the bundle of stems in his hands. 

“I meant what I said,” Newt said. “I want to travel, to write my book on magical creatures to better inform the world about them.”

The gentle tingle of his blood coursing through his veins enabled the nervous twitch of his head and the habitual blinking of his eyes. He clenched his jaw, and chose his next words carefully, intent on making his words as transparent as possible.   

“But,” he quavered. “I would also like for you to come with me. I couldn’t think of a better person to share an adventure with.” 

You eyed him skeptically. Such sentiment was rare from Newt. His skittish nature made it difficult for him to say in exact words what he meant in fear of an unwanted reaction. But this was clear, so clear you thought he might have not meant it the way it had come out. 

“What about Leta,” you countered. “Surely, you’d rather her company.”

Newt shook his head, a quick reaction for a heavy implication. It caught you off guard.

“Leta isn’t like you,” he said. “She isn’t interested in this sort of thing. I think she only participates in it as a hobby. But you, you care about these creatures just as much as I do. I know that you would do whatever it takes to help me, not because you’re a good friend, but because you want to.”

You felt translucent in front of him. He spoke about you as though it were his second nature— a verse in a song he sang often. He meant every word and hoped that you would see just how fondly he thought of you. 

“And I know you love potion making, even though you pretend you don't. You want to help people with your potions. Your dreams are just as important as mine. And we can make them happen.”

He took from beside him a bouquet of sorts. A small sized bundle of flowers and greenery was held together with a white, silk ribbon tied into a bow. He held it between your bodies and smiled.

“Together.” 

Your heart nearly stopped. The bouquet itself was beautiful. There were white lilies that sprouted from a circle of knotgrass and peppermint. Small daisies littered between them, and vibrant lavenders towered over them. But what truly stood out to you wasn't the beautiful assortment of lilies or lavenders, but the three, very distinct wolfsbane flowers that were arranged in the center. They stood out from the rest, their stems surging above the other flowers and their beautiful indigo petals illuminating in the moonlight. 

Your mouth fell open. Newt could tell your mind was swarming with questions. Your speechlessness added to his nervousness and he blushed a deep red. You took the bouquet into your hands and brushed your finger against the petals. 

“W...Where did you—”

“It wasn’t easy,” Newt confesses. “It took Pickett and me hours to collect them all, especially the wolfsbane. We were lucky to have found a patch growing about.”

“But I checked all over the glade, it didn't grow anywhere else.”

Newt scratched the back of his neck, just under his ear, and smiled sheepishly. 

“I-I didn’t find them in the glade...”

Your brows turned upward, and you gripped the bouquet tightly.

“You went to the northern woods...” You inferred. 

Newt’s humble silence was enough to confirm your observation. 

You and Newt had only gone to the northern woods all but once. Upon escaping you both vowed never to return. The fairy glade was as deep into the forbidden forest you’d go. Beyond it lay the most dangerous creatures. 

The day you had ventured there, you had come across a wandering troll. Luckily you were both able to escape its path unnoticed as it walked deeper into the forest, but that was the closest either of you wanted to get to death. 

For Newt to go beyond the glade and into the northern woods meant that he went out of his way to put himself in unspeakable danger, just to get you the wolfsbane. 

Your eyes glistened with tears and your lips quivered. 

“Why would you do that?” You whispered tightly. 

“Because you’re my best friend,” he said simply, displaying his slanted grin. “Because this was something important to you, so it was important to me as well.”

Pickett trilled in your lap. 

“Oh, and Pick feels the same,” Newt translates. 

You were filled with immense happiness. Your hearts swelled in your chest and tears of joy streamed down your cheeks. In your exasperated state, you began to sob. It was an ugly sort of sob, the kind you couldn’t differentiate between happiness or sadness. 

“You idiot!” You cried.

Newt grew doubtful and wondered if he had upset you. His fears were crushed when you pulled him into a tight hug, burying your face into his neck, wrapping your arms around his waist and gripping the fabric of his robes.

“Thank you so much.” Your muffled sobs reached his ears. “I can’t thank you enough.”

Newt was glad you couldn’t see how red his face had become. His heart beat loudly in his chest, so much so he was nervous you’d hear. 

You released him from your hold and wipe your face on your sleeve. You chuckle at how messy you probably looked.

“You really are impossible, Newton Scamander,” you whisper.

He smiles. “I reckon that’s a good thing.”

You giggle and nod your head. 

“It’s a wonderful thing.”

•••      

“It’s remarkable, Miss (y/n),” Madam Pertinger praised. “It is the night of the full moon and you are perfectly normal! Though you still have a faint pallor, it is not nearly as bad as it would usually be. Do you feel fatigued?”

“No,” you tell her. “Well, not to the extent I usually would. I feel a bit sleepy like I’ve just woken up from a long nap, but it's nothing compared to how I’ve felt in the past.”

“And you’ve been taking the potion for how long?”

“Every night for the past week,” You inform her.

“Do you realize what you’ve done?” Madam Pertinger grinned. “You have created a potion thought to have been a myth amongst witches and wizards like you!”

You smile brightly and flush from the attention.

“This is a very important discovery, (y/n),” Dumbledore emphasized. “Should it work, you would have created the perfect Wolfsbane Potion. The most powerful of witches and wizards weren’t able to create it, but you were able to in a matter of several months.”

“I couldn’t have done it without your help, Professor,” you added. “Had you not told me about the wolfsbane in the first place, I wouldn’t have been able to make it.”

“You are one of the brightest witches I have ever taught,” he tells you. “I’m sure you would have figured it out yourself. I just made it so you could without risk of expulsion.”

You laughed and Madam Pertinger handed you a glass of water. 

“Drink this and you may go. But you must see Professor Dumbledore before the moon rises.”

You take the glass and drink it in large gulps. You swing your legs over the side of the bed and slide your shoes on your feet. You leave the infirmary, not before waving goodbye to Madame Pertinger and Professor Dumbledore. 

Tonight is the night you’ll know for sure if your potion worked. You hoped it did, that way you wouldn’t have to suffer any longer. And it’d be all thanks to Newt. 

The tall, red-haired boy came to mind. Ever since that night where he gave you the flowers, things have been different between you. Newt often stole long glances at you and when you’d catch him, his cheeks would turn pink. 

He recently adopted a habit where, at dinner,  he would take the food from his plate and plop it on yours. You asked him why he started doing this, to which he blushed and said, “It was too much for me.”

You smiled at the thought. You were making your way to the courtyard when you heard someone call your name. You stop and look behind you to see Leta running towards you. You smile and wave as she stops in front of you, out of breath. 

“Thank Merlin! I’ve been calling you since I saw you leave the infirmary!” she huffs. 

You flush and smiled bashfully. “Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts, I guess.”

“Your thoughts can wait, you have to come and see this!”

Leta excitedly grasps your hand and pulls you from the courtyard. She leads you through the fields, you both jumping over lounging students and sliding down hills until you came upon the edge of the forbidden forest. You dug your heels into the ground and pulled your hand from her grip. Leta stopped and turned around to look at you.

“In there?” You pointed to the woods. 

“Of course, silly,” Leta said. “What’s the matter? I know you went to the glade last week, this is no different.”

“That was different,” you tell her. 

You warily looked between the forest and the sun that beamed high above you. It around lunchtime, no later than three o’clock. Moonrise wasn’t until nine that night. Maybe you could spare a few hours...

“Are you coming or what?”

Despite your better judgment, your legs pull you towards her and she grasps your hand tightly as she lures you deeper into the forest. She excitedly guides you through the branches and trees, her grin never faltering. Perhaps it was the atmosphere that numbed your senses, or maybe it was the intimacy of the moment you both were sharing. Either way, your doubts floated away and your anxieties were buried. 

You find yourself grinning and willingly follow Leta. You didn’t recognize the path she was taking you. She had made several turns that led you in a completely different direction from where the glade was. When you asked her where she was taking you she said it was a surprise. You blindly let Leta lead you until she brings you a stop. She hides behind a tree and pulls you behind her. 

“What is it?” You ask, stretching to your tippy-toes to see over her head of curls. 

She promptly shushes you and you grimace.

“We can’t be loud, or we’ll scare it away,” Leta whispers. 

You nod and quickly shut your mouth, not wanting to disturb whatever it was. 

She searches for your hand with her own and grasps it tightly when she finds it. She then carefully maneuvers her way around the tree and the various shrubbery that lay in your path. She walked on the balls of her feet and you mimicked her actions, tip-toeing your way through the shrubs. 

You trained your eyes on the ground, very much focused on the soil below you. You made sure to study the ground to best wine your way through the path without making a loud sound. You avoided various twigs and protruding tree roots. The brown, mossy earth beneath you gradually faded into vibrant green wisps of grass, until it became a dewy field. Leta slowed her pace, making you to accidentally bump into her due to your carelessness. 

Leta nearly stumbles but catches herself and you. You whisper an apology and display a lopsided smirk before turning your head forward in the direction Leta was staring. 

Your eyes sparkled and you marveled at what you saw. There, in the middle of a secluded meadow, was none other than Newt Scamander soothing what was unmistakably a unicorn. 

“It’s alright,” Newt said lowly as he pulled something from his robe’s pocket and fed it to the mystical creature. “She trusts me now. You may come closer. Carefully, though.”

Leta turned to you with a bright smile and you both excitedly made your way to the unicorn. Its mane and coat were more of a silvery color, and its horn hadn’t seemed to grow in fully yet. 

“She’s beautiful,” you whisper in awe once you were close. 

Newt looked at you and smiled. He took your hand, which caught you by surprise. You let him take it, your body naturally craving his touch. He turned your palm upwards and placed several berries in your palm. 

“Try feeding her,” he suggests. 

You gaze at the great filly and her large brown eyes and experimentally hold your palm up to her lips. She sniffed at your hand and you let out a sort of nervous giggle at the feeling of her hot breath tickling your skin. She then nipped at your hand with her lips, scooping the berries into her mouth and dampening your palm. You laugh as her lips tickled your hand until she ate every last berry you had in your hand. 

“Newt,” you turn to him only to find him already looking at you. He blinks rapidly and his hand gravitates to the back of his neck and he plays with the loose curls that rested there. You smile and lower your hand. 

“How did you find her?“

“By accident, really,” Newt blurts. 

“It’s true.” Leta’s voice cuts between you and Newt’s stare like a knife. You both face her as she emerges from the side of the unicorn where she had been petting it. 

“Newt and I were on our way to the glade, when all of the sudden Newt goes into a fit, rambling on about how he swore he saw a unicorn walking through the trees.”

“Which I did,” Newt interjects. 

“Yes, but at the time I didn’t believe him. You see unicorns live deep in the forest and we were practically on the edge of campus grounds, logically it didn’t make sense,” Leta explains.

Your brows knit together as you watched them. They were bickering like an old married couple. 

“I tried to tell her I wasn’t lying but she insisted I was. So, in an attempt at proving her wrong I—“

“—He ran off into the direction he thought it was going. And being the caring friend I am, I couldn’t just let him go deeper into the forest alone, so I followed him.”

“And the unicorn stopped right here, in this meadow,” Newt continued. “She was grazing and when I finally showed Leta, she insisted we try to approach it. Once I was able to gain her trust, she let me and Leta pet her.”

They both shared a smile and you felt that pang in your heart, but it went as fast as it came.

“But,” Leta sighs dramatically. “Then Newt went on about how much he wished you were there to see it because he knew you’d love to see a unicorn. After he told me this long story about how you were obsessed with unicorns in your first year I finally decided that I would just bring you here since it meant so much to him.” 

Newt’s ears turned pink and he looked between you and Leta with wide eyes. 

“I-I just thought you would have felt left out if you found out we had seen one— and you really did love unicorns so much— so I didn’t want you to be… upset.” Newt muttered the last part when his eyes met yours. 

You were smiling as he was rambling. “Thank you,” you grin. 

“Newt, do you think she will let us ride her?” Leta asks. 

Newt’s brows turned up in thought. He turned to the white mare and neared closer. He then placed his hand on the unicorn’s muzzle and pet her gently. The mare seemed to lean into his hand, nudging it with her head. Though you knew Newt had a remarkable affinity with magical creatures, you still find yourself impressed with how much they gravitate towards him. The unicorn moved back from Newt’s hand and bowed towards him, its stubby horn touching the ground at his feet. 

“I think she will let us now.” He said simply and craned his neck to look back at his two companions who were already staring at him completely dumbfounded.

Newt went to the side of the unicorn and took a fist full of its platinum blonde mane. In one swift movement, he jumped up and swung his leg over the mare’s torso. She neighed and shuffled in place, her hooves scuffing the dirt and the grass. 

“Easy girl,” Newt cooed, bringing a free hand up to brush the side of her neck. 

The unicorn bobbed her head and snorted as if to say ‘okay’. Newt smiled and peered down at you and Leta on the ground. 

“Who wants to go first?”

•••      

You’d let Leta ride with Newt first seeing as she was the one to suggest the idea in the first place. You watched as Newt held out his hand for her to take and pulled her up on the horse with ease. You wondered when Newt had gotten so strong. 

She then wrapped her arms around his waist, an action that flustered him, but he knew it was necessary. 

Newt spurred the unicorn into a trot, guiding them both farther off into the meadow. You smiled as they faded down the curve of the meadow’s hill, waving at Leta as she turned to give you an excited smile. 

You let out a puff of air through your nose and looked up at the sun that beat down on you. You probably had a good few hours left of daylight before you had to leave. 

You decided to wait for Newt and Leta down by a glorious field of wildflowers. Trudging up the steep hills, you made your way to the flower field and planted yourself near its center. You sat in the flowers and relax in the sun. Newt and Leta were not far off. Their laughter and occasional jovial shrieks rang in your ears. From your perch you could see them down below, riding the unicorn in circles and quick sprints before disappearing behind the troughs of the hills.

Your fingers grazed over the flowers, brushing the soft, delicate petals that ranged from violet, chartreuse, lilac, and azure. You picked some flowers in your hands and placed them in a circle on your lap. Left alone, your thoughts wandered chaotically. 

Tonight is a full moon, that is inevitable. Tonight you would turn, and one of two things could happen. You could turn and still hold the extent of your consciousness, or you could turn and become a raging beast. Again.

You let out a frustrated sigh at the thought. The only thing that frustrates you more was the aftermath. Your mind went back to that night by the lake when Newt gave you the flowers. Your heart swelled and a small smile appeared on your lips. The more you thought about it the more you came to realize just how much Newt meant to you. 

From the very first day you’d met, you and Newt always took care of each other. Whenever Newt needed help, you were right there by his side, and whenever you needed support, he would come rushing. And when you both needed someone, you leaned on each other. It’s just how things worked between the two of you. Newt reminded you of that the other night when he brought you the wolfsbane. 

You wanted to tell him, you always had. The only reason you didn’t was because you were afraid of the possibilities. If you tell Newt and he rejects you, you would have lost the most important person in your life. Worse than that, if you tell him what you were— and he supports you just as he always has— then you would be putting him in danger, and you couldn’t imagine hurting him. 

So no matter how much you wanted to confide in him and stop the secrecy, you couldn’t, because the risks were far too great. 

You awake from your thoughts when you hear a boisterous neigh close behind you. You look at your hands in your lap and see that you have fashioned a crown of flowers. 

The sound of the unicorn’s hooves galloping up the hill caused you to stand to your feet. You smoothed your robe and turned to the direction in which the sound came. Not long after you saw the head of the unicorn, followed by Newt and Leta’s smiling faces. You grin at them as they ride up and Newt brings the unicorn to a stop beside you.

“(y/n), it was absolutely amazing! You have to try it!” Leta enthuses as she hops down. 

She makes her way to stand beside you and smiles. You smile as well before looking up at Newt. 

“You won’t let me fall, right?” You ask. 

Newt shakes his head. “Never.”

You take another look at the marvelous beast. It’s coat glistened in the sun, it’s mane flew gently in the breeze. You were still contemplating getting on when Newt suddenly shrugged off his robe and threw it on the ground by your feet. He rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt and looked down at you. He held out his arm for you to take. 

You raised a brow and let out a breathy laugh. You did the same as he, shedding the robe off your shoulders and letting it drop to the ground, leaving you in your dress shirt and skirt. You kept the crown in your left hand and used your right to grab his. Newt’s smile grew and he lifted you with ease on top of the horse. It was so unexpected you yelped and instinctively wrapped your arms around his waist. Leta laughed at you, probably because the shock on your face was amusing from her angle. 

Leta walked up to you both on the horse. “I think I’m going to head back to the dorms,” she tells you. 

“How come?” You frown. 

“Ironically, my clothes won’t pack themselves. I should get started now so that I’m finished by dinner.”

“Alright, Leta,” Newt says and you nod, knowing how often she procrastinated. You say your goodbyes and she starts down the hill. 

“Have fun,” you taunt and she turns around, walking backward. 

“Try and stop me,” she grins, causing you and Newt to laugh. 

She waves as her body disappears behind the hill. Newt then adjusts his position on the horse and you do the same. 

He turned his neck to look back at you. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you tell him. 

He then spurs the unicorn by lightly kicking it twice in its sides with the heel of his shoes. What you thought was going to be a gentle trot down the hill was actually a full gallop. You shriek at the sudden jolt and tighten your hold around Newt’s waist. You tucked your chin into your scarf and squeeze your eyes shut. You pressed your face in his back and Newt laughed. 

The wind howled in your ears as you charged down the hill. Newt took one of his hands from the horse's mane and held on to your hand that clutched his shirt tightly. 

“What are you doing?” You yell over the wind. 

“You seem scared,” he yelled back, but you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Shouldn’t your hands be on the horse?” 

Newt laughed at that, but at the moment, you were actually concerned. He didn’t let go of your hand though, instead, he held it a bit tighter.

When you reached the bottom of the hill, the wind became less intense and turned into a prominent breeze. You opened your eyes and saw the round run by. You smiled and lifted your head. You looked behind you and watched as the hills steadily got smaller and the trees flew by. 

You then turned back to Newt. You couldn’t see his face, but you could see his hair blowing in the wind, the curls danced around his head and the bright sun made it glow a beautiful copper. You smiled to yourself and suddenly became aware of Newt’s hand around yours.

You wriggled your hand from his grasp, and he let go. You then took it back in your hands and intertwined your fingers to lay in his lap. It must have caught him off guard because he looked down at your intertwined hands and you watched as his neck and ears slowly turned pink. 

You giggled but decided not to tease him further. Instead, you took in the scenery around you. This part of the forest was more beautiful than the glade, and you wondered if there were more places like this in the forest. You were so lost in the beauty you didn’t realize Newt had been leading the unicorn to a trail. When you did you frowned.

“Newt?” You leaned into his ear so he could hear. 

“Yes?”

‘“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know,” he chuckled. “She seems to be taking us somewhere. She won’t let me guide her.”

“Should we be worried?” You looked up at the sky. The sun was still high in the sky, but you knew you would have to leave soon. 

“No,” he says confidently. “Let’s see where she takes us.”

You thought about protesting and asking him to turn around. You decided against it once Newt turned around and gave you a reassuring smile. So, you gave him a close-mouthed smile and let the unicorn guide you both.

The trail was pretty straightforward. It was just one straight winding road surrounded by trees. You noted how the farther you went, the tree’s vines wound up until they created an arch overhead. 

You looked over Newt’s shoulder and saw the trail coming to an end. Ahead of you was a wall of vines and stone. 

You purse your lips. “The road ends here? Are you sure we shouldn't just head back, it’s getting late.”

Newt shook his head. “It’s not a dead-end, look!”

He pointed at a curtain of vines in the center of the wall. The unicorn continued to walk down the road, and when it reached the curtain of vines it used its head to push through the vines and enter the path. You covered your face to keep the prickly vines from hitting your face.

When you opened your eyes, it was like nothing you’ve ever seen before. Your mouth fell agape as you stared in awe. It was like you entered an entirely new world. The unicorn had taken you and Newt to a sort of cove. A circular garden enclosed by rock, much like the underwater cave you and Newt discovered, except there was an opening above where you could see the sky. Vines and moss grew on the rock wall’s surface, and the ground was a blend of grass and flowers. Trees with ripe fruit scattered the area, and you noticed the small community of creatures that resided there. But the defining feature wasn't the creatures or the flora, but the large cascading waterfall that flowed into a pool at the center of the garden. The water sparkled in the sunlight and tempted you to jump in. 

You had been at such a loss of words you hadn't noticed Newt’s excited rambling until you felt his hand slip from yours. He hopped down from the unicorn and held out his hand for you to take. You did, and he helped you off the majestic beast. 

“Isn’t this magnificent?” Newt grinned brightly down at you. 

You found yourself smiling widely and nodded. “This is... I can’t even explain how amazing this is,” you tell him. 

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” he says.

You stared fondly at Newt, amused by his childlike wonder as he took in every detail of the garden. You giggled to yourself and boldly grasped his hand. Newt looked down at you and smiled. You gingerly pulled him with you to explore. It was so surreal, it almost felt like a dream. You and Newt practically frolicked around the garden. You’d seen fairies, a family of porlock, and a colony of flitterbies. 

Now, you and Newt were sitting under a dirigible plum tree. You were talking about random things, nothing of importance or substance, but it was an enjoyable, comfortable banter. You had been fiddling with the flower crown you’d made earlier. It had gotten a bit smushed while riding, but you managed to remember a charm to fix the flowers. 

“I think Theseus doesn’t like me that much. He doesn't really talk to me and when he does he’s always lecturing me. He acts more like my father than a brother. He can be such a plonker sometimes.”

Newt was ranting about his brother when you plopped the flower crown on Newt’s mess of curls. The action made him stop and look at you as you adjusted the crown to rest on his head while your fingers brushed through his locks.

“Theseus is your brother Newt,” you say as you fixed his hair. “He probably feels responsible for you because he’s the oldest, and without your father, he’s the ‘man’ of the house. He loves you, trust me. Siblings are supposed to get under your skin. If they don’t they aren’t much of a sibling.”

“There,” you smile and remove your hands from his hair. 

Newt opened his eyes and saw you grinning him. The sunlight made your skin turn a shade of gold. You still had on your scarf that hung around your neck and the breeze caused your hair to sway. Newt’s heart beat faster in his chest upon realizing how close you were to him, but you didn’t seem to care.

“You look pretty,” you tease.

Newt became flustered and averted his eyes from yours. You laugh and stand to your feet. Newt watches you but doesn't stand.

“It’d be a waste if we didn’t swim in that beautiful pool,” you hint.

Newt smiled and stood up next to you. “Race you there?”

“Of course!” You lightly pushed Newt’s arm, making him stumble, and started for the pool. 

“That’s cheating!” He yelled as he chased after you. 

You laughed as you ran towards the waterfall, excited to dip your toes in the cool water. You made it to the pool first, by pure skill of course. You looked back to see Newt nearing closer. You could tell he’d given up because he reduced to a jog after you. 

You started to strip from your clothes and dropped them in a pile on the grass, leaving you in your underwear and scarf. Newt had just made it to you when you jumped in the water. Streams of water splashed on his legs and the cool water felt refreshing on his skin. He could see you through the water. The pool was deep, deep enough for the turquoise blue water to turn an ominous navy. 

You swam back up to the surface and wiped the water from your face to look up at him from the pool.

“Well, are you just going to stand there?” You taunt.

You close your eyes as you float on your back and propel yourself towards the waterfall. Newt carefully places the flowers crown on the ground next to your clothes and begins undressing. You hear him splash in the water and you open your eyes. The part of the sky you could see through the opening was turning pink, and white fluffy clouds rolled by. You smiled to yourself and felt your body relax in the water. Your tranquility was interrupted however when you felt something tug on your ankle.

You yelped positioned your body upright to see Newt's head pop up from the water with a mischievous grin on his face. He laughed as he shook the water from his curls.

You splash him playfully and frowned. “That's not funny, Newt,” you pout.

“It was a little funny,” he teased as he circled around you.

You scoffed and lifted your hand from the water towards Newt. You flicked your wrist in a downward motion, causing him to be pulled beneath the water. 

You snicker as he swims back up to the surface. He gasps for air and stares at you with wide eyes. 

“When did you learn that?” He gaped.

You smirk and coyly shrug your shoulders. “There’s a lot you don't know about me, Newt.”

The two of you provoked each other as you played in the pool. You challenged him to a series of games and contests. He won most of them, a real test of your pride, but it was fun nonetheless.

Newt had just beaten you in your third round of the holding-your-breath contest when he came up for air. He pointed to the waterfall ahead of you both.

“Do you think there's something behind it?”

You huff out a breathy response. “Maybe.”

Newt stayed quiet for a while before suddenly diving under the water and swimming towards the waterfall. You quickly followed after him, slipping beneath the cool water and swimming closely behind him.

When you both reached the waterfall, you swam back to the surface for air. Newt turned to you as you came up.

“Stay here, I'll go in first!” He yells over the sound of the waterfall.

You nod in response, too tired to say anything.

Newt turns back to the waterfall and dives under the water, his body disappearing beneath the white foam. You wait for him for a minute, but he doesn't come back. You suddenly became nervous. 

“Newt?” You called. “Newt do you see anything.”

When he didn't answer back, your heart began to beat a bit faster than usual. You swam closer to the waterfall, the water sprayed and pelted your face. 

“Newt if this is another one of your silly pranks, it’s not funny!”

You squint your eyes in attempts to see through the falling water, but it was far too thick to make anything out beyond it. 

“Alright, you got me now come back,” you shout over the roaring falls. 

After another minute of waiting and receiving no response, you sucked your teeth in annoyance.

“Fine, then I’ll leave you here!” You warn. 

You stared at the curtain of water one moment longer before groaning and turning around to swim back to shore. You were stopped, however, when something grabbed your arm tightly and yanked you through the waterfall. 

You let out a shriek from the sudden tug and gripped the first thing your hands could find. Your panic slowly turned into anger when you heard Newt's high-pitched laughter. 

You blinked the buckets of water from your eyes to see Newt smiling down at you. His hands were holding you by your waist as your hands gripped his shoulders. 

You took a moment to look around. Behind the waterfall was a cave with walls lined of obsidian. He dragged you away from the waterfall to a shallow end of the pool where your toes just barely scratched the surface. You then turned back to Newt. You glare up at him and hit him on his shoulder.

“Ow!” He yelled through a chuckle.

You did it again, and again, and again and spewed curses at him as he laughed.

“You! Bloody! Idiot! I! Thought! You! Drowned!” You yelled with each punch you gave him. 

He tore his hands from your waist to grab your wrists.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled. “Can you please stop hitting me now?”

You stopped attacking him and looked in his eyes. You both were out of breath, your chests heaving as you took breaths in with your mouths. He was smiling down at you, and hold your writs to his naked chest. He was so close the water from his hair dripped on your cheeks.

You felt your ears become hot, despite the water on them being cold. Newt’s eyes left yours and traveled down your neck. You watched him lose his grip on your wrist and take his hand to your neck.

You shivered when his fingers grazed your scar, and you became very aware that he could see it. You instinctively moved your hand to cover it, but he stopped you. He pushed your hand back down and placed his hand directly on the memory of your wound.

Your heart jumped in your chest as he traced the scar from its start, just under your jaw, down your neck and to your chest until it hid beneath you camisole. Newt seemed ignorant to the placement of his fingers, but you were not. Your cheeks went up in flames your body tensed in anticipation of what he would do next.

“You don't have to hide them.” He says, after what seems like a millennium. “Especially not from me.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and bow your head. You hadn't noticed how close Newt was until your foreheads touched. Newt could feel the warmth of your breath on his cheeks. He could smell your scent, like lavender and seawater. His stomach tied in a knot when your hand clasped around his arm.

“Newt...” Your voice barely came above a whisper.

You could feel it now, clearer than before; the thing that had grown between you and Newt. He could feel it too. It made you vulnerable. You couldn't think straight. You couldn’t think of anything but about the warms of Newts arms around you, and the beating of your heart.

Newt’s own emotions stirred. He didn't know what they meant, or when or when they came about. All he knew was that he wanted to hold you like this. He wanted you near him at all times. And he wanted you to feel the same. Newt’s eyes fell to your lips and yours to his.

“Newt, I... I have something to tell you,” you say.

“Yes?”

Your chest grew heavy, your words imprisoned in your throat. 

“I want to say that... I want to tell you I...”

Your lips drew close together, your eyes struggling to stay open. Newt’s cheeks blossomed with color.

“Yes?”

“I’m trying to tell you that I—”

His lips barely brushed your own when you felt a jolt of pain shot through your body. You let out a strangled cry and fell into Newt’s chest. Newt caught you in his arms and helped you float above the water.

“(y/n)!”

As fate would have it, your precious moment alone with Newt would have to wait. Your blood boiled beneath your skin causing an irritating itching sensation, a sensation you knew all too well. 

“I have to go.” You tell him and wriggle from his grasp. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Newt’s eyes grew with worry. 

You cringed and gasped in pain as another wave of fire burst under your flesh. You ignored Newt’s calls for you and dived under the water to swim under the falls. When you passed the falling water you swam back to the surface and opened your eyes to see the sky full of stars and a moon, round and full, shining down on you. Your heart dropped and you fiercely swam to edge of the pool. 

You used your strength to lift yourself up and onto the grass. You fumbled for your clothes and quickly gathered them in your hands. 

“Stupid!” You curse at yourself. “How could you be so bloody stupid!”

“(y/n), wait!”

You look back to see Newt swimming from the falls. You didn't wait. You started in the direction of the wall of vines and ran as fast as your legs could carry you. You ran past the orchard, past the grazing unicorns, and to the wall. You were just to the wall when you doubled over, falling to your knees, in pain. You gasped for air that seemed to leave your lungs all on their own. You cry out from the throbbing pressure in your gums. You could taste the blood on your tongue, a taste you hated, but craved on nights like this. 

In the distance, you heard cries of your name. Newt was making his way to you, clumsily and frantically running to catch up. You managed to scramble back to your feet and leave your clothes in the grass behind you. The vine wall parted for you just as it had when you came in, leading you back to the trail. 

You wine your way through the trail until you made it back to the hills. You made it pretty far before your back broke into two. The sound that escaped you was inhuman, something between an agonizing cry and a howl. You fell on your back, your body convulsing and twisting in unimaginable ways, and you could do nothing but endure it as you stared at the taunting moon through your tears. 

•••      

“Professor, look, over there!”

Leta stood next to Dumbledore on one of the hilltops. Dumbledore looked in the direction Leta was pointing to see a figure emerge from the woods and into the field. It was running at a speed no human could achieve when it suddenly stopped and fell to the ground. The most chilling scream echoed in the air and Dumbledore knew it was you. 

“It’s her!” Dumbledore disapparated from the hill, leaving Leta dumbfounded on the hill. 

Dumbledore appeared to find you halfway through transformation. You were in a great amount of pain but hadn't yet transformed. This was unusual because you should have completed your transformation long ago. 

Behind him Dumbledore heard rustling in the grass and looked back to see Newt, out of breath, clumsily nearing closer. His clothes were disheveled and wet, as were the bundle of clothes he carried in his arms that Dumbledore assumed where yours

“Newt stay back!” Dumbledore yelled over your cries. 

Newt stopped in his tracks just a few feet from where you lay. His brows furrowed upwards when he saw you on the ground. He looked between your body and Dumbledore who stood in front of you. Newt dropped the heap of clothes by his feet.

“Professor?” Newt sputtered between heavy breaths. “What are you doing here?”

“Newt, you must leave,” Dumbledore warns. 

Both of their attention turned to you who had let out another blood-curdling cry. Newt acted on instinct and tried to run to your side, but Dumbledore grabbed him before he could. Leta had finally made her way down the hill and stood behind the professor. 

You were turned on your stomach, clawing at the ground. Your nails were pushed off their beds and replaced with claws. Your body snapped into positions that would kill a regular human being. 

“Newt,” you managed to call out.

“We have to help her,” Newt asserted. 

“We can't, Newt! We can't help her,” Dumbledore told him. “The best thing you can do for her now is leave, do you understand?”

Newt looked down at you on the ground with sorrowful eyes. Dumbledore began pushing Newt back towards Leta. 

“No, no I can’t,” Newt cried. “Professor, please, let me help!”

You let out a low growl that caught everyone’s attention. They all looked at you to see you on your hands and knees. You looked up at them with wolfish (e/c) eyes that glowed brightly and sharp bared teeth.  

“NEWT JUST GO!” 

The look Newt gave you was the look you hoped you’d never see. It was the look that haunted your nightmare— the look of him seeing you for what you were: a monster.

You blinked and your eyes returned back to their natural, human (e/c), and your screams continued.

Leta placed a hand on Newt’s shoulder. “Newt, we have to go!”

She took Newt’s hand and pulled him back, though he could not tear his eyes away from you. 

Your mind clouded and your vision blurred. You arched your back and felt it grow. Your body was on fire, itching, and burning as if something inside you was clawing to get out. Never had a transformation taken this long if it had you would have begged the professor to end your misery long ago, and if he had any mercy in his heart, he would have. 

It was a grotesque affair. You endured the torment of every bone in your body breaking two times over. Your entire genealogy mutated in real-time, down to the last cell. An hour ago, you were human. You walked on two legs, had smooth (s/c) skin, hands, lips, a nose, and a full head of hair. Now, all of that was gone. Now, you walked on four legs. Now, your skin was covered in white fur. Now, your hands were paws. Now, your lips and nose were replaced with a snout. Now, you were a beast among men. Now, you were a werewolf. 

Leta’s eyes were glossed with tears as she cowered behind Dumbledore who had positioned himself between you and your friends for their own safety. Newt slipped his hand from Leta’s and moved towards you. 

There you lay, cowering in a defensive ball, like a scared animal before him. Everything seemed to make sense to him now. The night of the accident, the strange way you had been acting, and the boggart in the room of potions. The boggart of the wolf looked exactly like the wolf in front of him. The large wolf with snow-white fur and large (e/c) eyes was you. 

You wined and growled at the group of people in front of you. Newt slipped his hand from Leta’s and took a daring step towards you, bringing your attention that was focused on Dumbledore, to him. 

You looked at him with those big, wolfish (e/c) eyes, but they were no doubt your eyes. It was you. His friend— his best friend. He took another step, slowly and cautiously as to not startle you. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” He says as he takes another step. You follow him with your eyes intently, growling lowly as a warning. 

“Newt, step back,” Dumbledore warns stiffly. 

Newt ignores the professor’s warning and takes another step, lifting his hands towards you in a gesture of surrender. 

“It’s just me, (y/n),” he muttered softly. 

“Newt—!”

“It’s fine professor,” Newt looks back at Dumbledore behind him. “I’ll be alright.”

Newt looked back to where you lay only to be met with a large force pushing him on his back. Leta let out a shriek and pushed to run to Newt, but Dumbledore held her back. Newt groaned and opened his eyes to see you hovering over him. You were growling ferociously, your teeth bared and showing sharp canines. Newt looked you directly in your eyes. He didn't move, he stayed still under you. 

“It’s just me,” He whispered. 

His eyes didn’t waver as you looked at him with a threatening glare. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, anticipating what you would do next. You craned your neck down to him. He felt your fur tickle his cheeks, your growls vibrated next to his ear and your hot breath warmed his neck. You took two whiffs of his scent and suddenly your feral growls stopped. 

Your head moved from his neck and you took two steps back, allowing Newt to sit up in front of you. Your features had softened, and the pupils of your eyes grew, turning your (e/c) eyes into two black pools. Your head was bowed in a submissive manner towards him. 

Newt reached out his hand to you. “(y/n)?”

Newt’s hand nearly brushed against your fur until you snapped your teeth at him, drawing him back. You pointed your snout at the sky and let out a strong howl into the sky before taking one last look at Newt and charging past him, shoved through Leta and Dumbledore before running up the hill and disappearing from sight. 

Newt quickly got on his feet, stumbling as he did so. He clutched his side and rubbed it tenderly. Dumbledore was helping Leta to her feet when he saw Newt rushing up the hill. He made sure Leta was okay before rushing to stop Newt, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt and pulling him back. 

“Newt what are you doing?” 

“She can’t be left alone in the forest! She could get herself injured, or worse, killed!” 

Newt shook Dumbledore off and ran up the hill as fast as he could to find you.

Newt pushed past branches, leaped over bushes and scoured the forest for you. He did everything he could to locate you. He tracked your prints and followed the sound of your howls until they led him back to the glade, back to you. Newt stood by a tree as to not scare you off. You were standing at the water of the stream surrounded by fireflies. The moon was still high in the sky, luminous light causing your white fur to glow. He was watching you closely when his foot slipped, snapping a twig under his weight.

You snapped your neck towards him and growled threateningly at the shadows of the forest. Newt then stepped out into the glade, allowing you to see him fully. Upon seeing him you immediately backed away, as if he were the dominating creature. Newt stood a good distance away and attempted to shrink himself in front of you. 

“(y/n),” he spoke after a moment. Your right ear twitched at the sound. 

“(y/n), I know you recognize me,” he said. “I know you don’t want to hurt me.”

You snorted at him and growled, defensively lowering your head. Newt took a daring step closer. When you didn’t move away, he took another, and another, until he was just a foot away from you.

“I know you’re scared. Let me help you.” Newt lifted the palm of his hand to your snout. 

You looked at it for a moment, before stretching your neck to sniff his hand. Your eyes changed from their piercing (e/c) to pools of black, just like before. You made a noise, something between a whine and a whimper, and brushed your head against his palm. 

Newt let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and chuckled. He ran his hands through your fur as you nuzzled him. You nuzzled your head into his chest and the weight of your abnormally large body caused him to fall to the grass, with you on top. Newt laughed and pet the top of your head as he looked up at the sky above him. The moon and the stars stared back at him and his eyes began to fill with water.

”Why didn't you tell me?” Newt asked after a while. 

All he got for an answer was a huff and a low growl. You then rolled off his chest to lay beside him on the grass.

“It was the night of the ball, wasn’t it? The night of your accident,” he continued. “It was a full moon then, I remember. That was the night it happened.”

That night replayed in his memory. Your bloodied body moments away from death being carried down the hall. Your beautiful gown ripped to shreds, the melting clumps of snow tangled in your hair. Silent tears fell from the corners of his eyes and down into his ears as he looked up at the sky. 

“I’m so sorry, (y/n),” he whispered. 

Newt turned to look at you, only to find you sleeping. Your body rose up and down slowly And heavy breaths blew from your nose. He watched as a firefly landed on your snout. Your nose began to twitch as it crawled towards it, and you sneezed, scaring the little bug away. Newt couldn’t help but smile. He turned back to the sky and began counting the stars. 

                                            •••      

You shivered at the sudden chill that ran up your spine and chest. You instinctively curl yourself up and press yourself against the closest and warmest thing your body could find. The smell of saltwater and flowers filled your nostrils and your lips curled upwards at the comforting smell. You rested your head comfortably against the soft, warm thing beside you. For a moment, you could feel yourself drift back to sleep, but another chill ran across your back and legs, like breeze. 

Breeze...

Your eyes shot open and you sat up, your eyes adjusting to your surroundings. Trees, grass, birds, stream. You were in the glade. Your brows knotted in confusion until pieces of your memory came flooding back. You gasp and bring your hands to your mouth. You turn your head to your right to see the sky fading from reds, purples, and pinks as the sun shines between the trees. Sunrise. You look down to see Newt, sleeping peacefully beside you. 

Another breeze sent a chill through your body and you suddenly became increasingly aware of your nakedness. Your face burst into flame and your covered your chest with your arms. It appeared fate’s cruel and unusual humor had picked you as its victim for the day, because not a second later, Newt began stirring beside you. Your heart dropped to your stomach and you scrambled to your feet and ran behind the tree that stood at the center of the glade.

You hid your body behind the mighty tree, leaving Newt to wake up without you at his side. His eyes fluttered open and just as you had done moments prior, he took in his surroundings, recalling last night’s events. When he noticed your absence, he sat up, panic slowly forming in the back of his mind.

“(y/n)?” he called as he looked around the glade. 

You cursed under your breath and took a peek around the tree to see the back of Newt’s head as he looked around for you. You quickly ducked back behind the tree when he turned around towards you. 

“(y/n)? Is that you?”

Shit. 

“Y-Yes it’s me,” you called out. 

The tightness in his chest loosened and he sighed in relief. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m alright.” You immediately cringed at yourself. Why would you say that? You most definitely weren't alright.

“What are you doing behind the tree then?” He asked. 

How the hell were you going to answer that? You needed him to stay away. Your drowsy brain couldn't think straight under pressure, causing you to say the first thing that came to mind. 

“I’m, uh... I-I’m using the restroom!”

“Oh..”

You slapped your palm on your forehead. Why did you say that? 

Regardless, it seemed to work. Wanting to give you privacy, Newt stopped coming closer to the tree and ended up waiting by the stream. He took the time to wash his face, and pick the weeds from his curls. By the time he felt he got most of them out, he noticed that you still hadn’t come out from behind the tree. Newt stood up from the brook and walked over to the tree. 

You were sulking behind the tree, trying to figure out a way to escape without being exposed. 

“If there were any moment for an invisibility cloak to magically appear in front of me, now would be the time,” you prayed into the air. 

“(y/n), are you still there?”

You straightened your body at the sound of Newt’s voice. You could hear his footsteps nearing and you panicked. 

“Don’t come any closer!” You yelled. 

Newt’s brows furrowed upwards and he stopped in his tracks. 

“Why? What’s wrong?”

You didn’t answer this time, still attempting to find the words to explain your current dilemma. 

Newt took your silence as a no and began walking closer to the tree. Your body reacted to his footsteps and you yelled for him to stop. Newt once again, halted just a few feet from the tree, completely oblivious and unable to read the situation. 

“Why are you hiding behind the tree? Did something happen? Let me help,” Newt persisted.

In your frustration, you let out an irritated groan.

“Oh, for God’s sake Newt, I’m NAKED!”

It took Newt a moment to process what you said, but when he did, his cheeks turned a bright red. You were still hidden behind the tree, waiting for a reaction, but you were met with silence. 

“Newt, are you there?”

You were answered with a bundle of silk plopping to your feet beside you. You gather the material in your hands and see that it is Newt’s sweater and robe. You noted how it smelled like him. Newt was meticulously playing with the cuff of his dress shirt when you had stepped from behind the tree dressed in his clothes. His back was towards you, his face still red-clad up to his ears. Your own face was burning and you could only imagine how it must have looked on the outside. 

“You can turn around now, Newt.” You say as you pull the robe tight around your body. 

Newt hesitated, merely twitch his neck to the side before fully facing you. Not that you could tell but the sight of you nearly caused him a heart attack. You were practically drowning in his clothes. Due to his height, the clothes that fit him perfectly nearly swallowed your form. His sweater fit you well enough, ending at your upper thigh, just enough to cover yourself. His robe draped over your shoulders and fell to your ankles, the sleeves swallowed your arms, leaving only the tips of your fingers in view.

Newt swallowed the lump in his throat and moved his eyes to focus on anything but you. He was particularly focused on a white butterfly that had been fluttering around when you walked up to him, your sudden closeness bringing his attention back to you. You looked up at him curiously with those wide, doe eyes. In his attempts to advert your gaze he looked down, past your lips, past your neck, until he saw the curve of your breasts peaking from the v-neckline of his sweater. His eyes were practically bulging from his skull ass his face deepened another shade of red. 

Practically trembling in your wake he brought his eyes up to look at the top of your head. You took the moment to admire him. The sun hadn’t yet risen to the sky, so rays of light that came through the trees spotted his face, much like the freckles that already decorated it. His hazel eyes, though avoiding you, were still bright and pretty. You then looked over his tousled locks. A small flower bud had nestled in-between his curls. 

“Hold still.”

Absentmindedly, you reached up to pluck the pesky thing from his hair. Newt watched you as you did this, feeling your fingers twirl in his locks until you captured the weed and flicked it to the ground. You smiled up at him after, your eyes still scanning him for any other weeds that may have hidden themselves in his copper mane. 

Newt’s heart began to beat steadily, his cheeks flushing to a tinted pink. He was so fond of you, he concluded then. There was something about you that made him feel excited and calm simultaneously. It was something about your smile and your eyes that he could always find comfort in. 

In this simple, silent moment between you both, the awkwardness had passed, and a familiar feeling fell heavy in your chests, similar to yesterday when you were in the waterfalls cavern.

Yesterday. The fleeting thought brought you back to reality. You turned from Newt and pushed past him to sit by the brook. You fell to your knees and stared at your reflection in the rippling water, much like how Newt found you last night. 

Newt took his place beside you, sitting Indian style as he too found interest in the water. He stole a glance at you, finding you completely invested in the stream. He could tell you were thinking. Your eyebrows creased slightly on your forehead and your jaw was tense, a face you often made when pondering deeply. He left you to your thoughts, aware that the events of last night may have been a blur for you. A part of him itched to say something, to ask you all the questions that burned at the back of his head as he stared at the night sky, but the last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm you. So he waited until you were ready. 

“I remember,” you said finally. You were still gazing into the water. For some reason, it helped you think. 

“Not everything, but some things,” you explain. “Little things. Pieces of memory that feel like a dream.”

Your mind flashes between the fragmented memories your inner beast had collected. A part of you felt like you made it up, that it was a dream you fabricated, but Newt was your proof that what you could remember did happen. It was real. 

You turn to face Newt and find him already intently looking at you. 

“We were swimming,” you recall. “In the cave behind the waterfall, we were talking and I—”

You remembered the closeness. The sudden and uncharacteristic boldness that intoxicated you and Newt. The feeling of his breath on your lips, and his nose brushing against yours. You shook it from your mind, your ears becoming warm once more. 

“Then I felt pains,” you continued. “I left you and ran back to the fields. I was turning.”

Newt nodded, encouraging and reassuring your retelling of events. 

“I don’t remember much of what happened after that except I saw... I think I saw Professor Dumbledore.”

“You did,” Newt assured. “He and Leta were both there looking for you.”

Your nose scrunched in confusion. You didn’t remember seeing Leta, you only remember her leaving long before your turn.

“Do you remember anything else?” Newt asked. “After you... you know?”

You nodded. 

“I remember you,” you say. “I remember seeing you...”

Your eyes started filling with tears and you looked down at your hands in your lap. 

“I don’t remember anything else. That’s it.”

Newt daringly took a hold of your hand and squeezed. You looked up at him with watery eyes.

“What did I do Newt?” You whispered through a broken voice. 

Newt quickly gathered you in his arms, holding you close as you slowly gave into your emotions. You couldn’t bring yourself to wrap your arms around him. Your head rested on his shoulder, and silent tears fell from your eyes. 

“You didn’t do anything,” he said in your ear. 

“I’m so sorry,” you sniff. “I didn’t want you to find out this way. I never wanted to put you in danger.”

Newt’s chest tightened, and he felt his own tears gathering behind his eyes. He held you closer, and let out a melancholic chuckle.

“I think I can put myself in danger just fine, thank you,” he said teasingly. 

He was happy when it managed to make you chuckle. He then felt your arms snake around his waist and your body relax into his embrace. Newt smiled. 

“You never have to apologize to me, (y/n),” he whispered. “Never.”

•••      

Your body was tired. You felt as though you had run a marathon the day before and your muscles were recovering from your efforts.

Despite this, you were happy. You were happy because you had nothing to hide. Last night you turned. Unconfined in the dungeons of Hogwarts Castle, you turned in the Scottish forest in front of your friends and didn’t wreak havoc among them. Due to your potion-making skills, you were able to create an effective wolfsbane potion that dulled the effects of lycanthropy.

After your talk with Newt, you both decided it was time to return to the castle. The last time Professor Dumbledore and Leta had seen you, you were running on all fours into the forest and Newt was chasing after you. You both figured returning would ease their minds.

You were right. Leta had tired herself out waiting for you and Newt to return. She stayed in the infirmary with Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pertinger. When you and Newt walked in sleep ridden eyes fell on you, before being replaced with ecstatic relief.

Leta jumped from the bed and tackled you in her arms, kissing you on both cheeks. She cursed up a storm about how worried you’d made her, and how she wished you’d told her, but you knew she wasn’t really mad. You smiled and apologized for worrying her, insisting she didn't have to wait all night for you. She punched your arm at that, offended you would even suggest such a thing.

The room was filled with laughs and hugs shared between the three of you. You even hugged Dumbledore and apologized to him and Madame Pertinger for putting them in such difficult situations, to which they too brushed off and insisted that it was no problem for them. Madame Pertinger even went on to praise you for a successful transformation.

Realizing that it was five in the morning, you suddenly felt your body growing tired again. You yawned and Newt took it as a sign that you wanted to head back to the dorms and offered to walk back with you. When you stood from the bed you, Leta and Newt were sitting on, Madame Pertinger seemed to have remembered something and wandered off to fetch it from a cabinet, telling you to wait before you go. When she returned, she had a pile of your clothes folded neatly and your wand placed on top.

Dumbledore had taken them after you ran off, and brought them back. Madame Pertinger had taken your clothes from him and cleaned them for you. You thanked her and blushed, remembering how little you were wearing.

You and Newt said goodbye to Leta as you left the infirmary, promising to see each other later before the train leaves. She left down the stairs as you and Newt walked towards the kitchens. You didn’t talk, you both far too tired to hold a small conversation.

When you both came upon the entrance to the Hufflepuff dormitory, Newt performed the secret code and opened the tunnel. Upon entering the common room, the two of you went straight for the couch. You plopped down and stared at the fireplace.

Newt sat next to you, following your gaze to the unlit fireplace. You both sat there for a moment, not talking, just sitting in silence. You weren't thinking of anything, in particular, just thinking. You pursed your lips when it dawned on you. You turned to Newt and studied him.

“You knew, didn’t you?” You broke the silence.

Newt looked back at you, his jaw clenching tightly.

“I saw the way you looked at me. It was only a moment, but the last thing I remember before blacking out was how you looked at me. You weren’t shocked. You weren't even scared.”

Newt looked down at his hands in his and began picking at his nails.

“Remember the day you were looking for those purple flowers?” He asked.

You nodded.

“I saw your scars for the first time that day. You didn’t notice, but I did. They reminded me of claw marks,” he said. “And the night you took me to the storage room, the one with those potions.”

“The wolf...” You interjected. Newt tore his eyes from his fingers and looked at your awestruck face.

“I went back after you left. I couldn't resist leaving such a creature in there alone,” he told you. “Do you know what you look like? After you turn, I mean.”

You shook your head. “No.”

Newt expected that answer, you could tell by his face.

“What is it?” You asked.

“When I went back into the room, there was no wolf waiting there. Instead I— ” he stopped himself before he could finish.  

“It was a boggart,” he settled. “There was no wolf. It was your boggart. The white wolf we saw was you. ”

You were at a loss for words. You processed everything as you stared at your feet on the ground.

“With that and figuring out the pattern of the days you missed classes... I started suspecting,” he finished.

It all made sense then. The long stares he gave you, the extra food he would plop on your plate, his sudden change in behavior around you. He knew.

A tightness fell in your chest. You hadn't spoken for a while. Newt knew you were processing everything he’d told you. He flinched when you suddenly rose from the couch.

“We should get some rest,” you said as you walked around the couch to the stairs.

Newt stood and made his way to the stairs, walking up the steps behind you. When you reached the top, you turned back to Newt. You unhooked the robe and shrugged it off your shoulders before handing it to him. Newt took it into his hands and thanked you.

“Y-You can keep the sweater if you want,” he told you.

You presented a small closed-lipped smile and nodded. “Thank you, Newt.”

He blushed with a smile and bowed his head to hide behind his bangs.

“It’s no problem, really. I-It looks better on you anyway.”

In a moment of boldness, you reached your arm up to Newt’s shoulder to hold him in place as you bounced on your toes to press your lips on his cheek. It happened so fast, he barely had time to process what you’d done. Your lips lingered there before you fell back on your feet and slid you hand down his arm.

“I wasn’t talking about the sweater.”

You left him with that, leaving him in the hall dumbfounded as you disappeared into the girl’s dormitories.

•••      

It was four in the afternoon, exactly two hours before Hogwarts express left to take all the students home for summer break. It was the last dinner and you were starving. It was a side effect of transforming, the hunger. You practically burn through your energy during full moons, so the next day your body craves more.

Tonight you were sitting with Davina after promising to do so earlier. You had met up with her and Priscilla and told them everything. Davina was in complete shock. Priscilla admitted she knew something was up with you, but her assumptions didn't land on werewolves. Overall, they both took it well.

You were picking at your food deep in thought when you felt someone tap your shoulder. You barely acknowledged them, only offering two raised brows and a hum to signify that you were listening.

“What’s wrong?” You heard Davina ask. “You’ve been eating non-stop all day and all of the sudden you can’t finish a piece of pie?”

You smiled and pushed the half-eaten cherry pie away. “I’m not a fan of pie really.”

“Yeah right,” Davina scoffed. “What's wrong? And—” she leaned closer to your ear and lowered her voice, taking a quick look around for prying ears. “—don't say it's a werewolf thing because I know it's not.”

You sighed, finally meeting her eyes.

“I kissed Newt.”

Davina’s eye’s nearly popped from her skull. She gasped, nearly choking on the water she was drinking. You looked around to see a few confused stares pointed your way and laughed nervously. You turned back to your recovering friend.

“Are you alright?” you asked.

She nodded as she wiped her face and robe with a napkin. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just a bit shocking,” she sputtered. 

She furrowed her brows in thought. “Aren't he and Leta sort of... you know?”

The look you gave her seemed to answer her question. Her lips made a small O shape and you scrambled to defend yourself. 

“It wasn't like it was a real kiss,” you tell her. “I only kissed him on the cheek, as a thank you. I left before I could see his reaction. Besides, it was more of a peck between friends.”

“If that’s all then why are you sulking about?” She asked.

You bit your lip and played with the hem of your robe.

“Because there was another kiss,” you mumble.

“There was another—!” You hushed her before she could finish, signaling for her to lower her voice.

She groaned and rolled her eyes. “There was another kiss?” she repeated, lower this time.

“Well, not exactly,” you admit. “We didn’t kiss kiss, but we almost did. It was an almost-kiss. A kiss that almost happened.”

You went on to tell her about yesterday, and about your swim with Newt. How he held you close, and for some unknown reason, your body acted before you could think, pulling your lips to his before being torn away by supernatural circumstance.

“I just keep thinking about it,” you breathe. “Our lips barely touched but— I don’t know— for a moment... for a moment I think he wanted to kiss me.”

“Did you want him to kiss you?”

You thought back on how you felt. How your heart swelled when he touched you. How nice it felt to be close to him, to be held by him.

“Yes,” you confess.

Davina’s lips pulled into a soft smile. “You really like him, don’t you?”  

You blushed, having not said it aloud. You barely admitted it to yourself. 

“I do.”

•••      

The smell of burning coal filled your nostrils, sounds of excited students saying their goodbyes and loading on to the train was all you could hear. You had just said your goodbyes to Priscilla and Davina, which were more emotional than you’d originally anticipated. You were playing with the tassels of your scarf while you waited for Newt and Leta. Hoards of people pushed passed you on the platform, rushing to their friends and filing onto the train. 

You were lost in your own head when someone roughly pushed past you, knocking you into somebody else. You cursed at the inconsiderate student and turned around to apologize to whom you’d crashed into only to find yourself pleasantly surprised. 

“Fleamont!” You smiled brightly, receiving one in return.

“Ah, if it isn't the best date I ever had,” he grinned. 

“I know that’s a lie, but I will gladly take the honor,” you joked, causing him to laugh. 

“It’s good to see you. Did you receive my letters?” 

You nodded. “Yes, and your gift basket. Thank you, it was very sweet.”

His bright, friendly smile turned into one of sorrow, a smile you knew all too well. 

“I’m really sorry about what happened. If I had stayed with you that night then maybe—”

“Don’t put that on yourself, Fleamont, it had nothing to do with you,” you interjected. “It was a silly accident. It happened, but I’m better now.”

You gave him a reassuring smile, and his charming one returned. 

“Well, you certainly look amazing. Tell me again why we aren't together?”

You rolled your eyes and playfully hit his arm. 

“Oh, if only there weren't two certain someones pulling us apart,” you mocked despair. 

“Love is too cruel, Juliet,” he sighed.

You both shared a laugh, genuine fondness was exchanged between you both. You held a short conversation, small talk to pass the time waiting. Fleamont told you about him and Euphemia. Apparently, he confessed to her that night, only for her to completely shut him down. She told him that she only wanted to be friends for the time being. You’d think that would have crushed his ego; if anything it inflated it more. 

The charming Gryffindor boy devised a plan to slowly make Euphemia fall in love with him and, according to him, it was working. He was a cocky bastard, but a genuine, sweet, cocky bastard. 

“Where are your trunks? Are you not riding?” Fleamont asked after scanning you. 

“No, I’m staying behind to help the prefects clear out and lend a helping hand,” you told him, forcing a smile. 

Fleamont snorted. “Something tells me that you had no say in the matter.”

You sigh and deflate in front of him. “How can you see right through me?” You chuckle. 

The train's whistle sounded twice, causing you both to look back at the train. You heard the sound of someone calling Fleamont’s name, and you both followed the sound to the jumping blonde girl waving her hands frantically towards him. He immediately smiled waved back before turning back to you. 

“I suppose that’s my cue,” he sighed dramatically.

“Oh, Romeo! Parting is such sweet sorrow,” you pout. 

He laughed, pulling you into a hug and pecking you on the cheek before waving goodbye and wandering off into the crowd. You were smiling as you watched him disappear behind bustling bodies. You were pulled from your daze when a familiar voice chimed in your ear. 

“I didn't realize you and Potter had gotten so close.”

You turn around to see Leta and Newt coming to a stop in front of you. Leta had her teasing smile plastered on her face and Newt, oddly enough, was particularly interested in his shoes. 

“He’s a friend. A bit of a pest really. He's practically obsessed with me,” you joke, and she laughs. 

A beat of awkward silence fell upon you and your eyes gravitated to Newt, who was already looking at you. As if you’d caught him off guard, he flinched and lowered his head. 

“How are you feeling?” Leta asks.

Your lips curled into a small smile. “I’m feeling good. A bit tired, but I’ll rest when I get back.”

“That’s good,” she smiled. “I still wish you could come with us.” 

“I do too, but I have to go back home. Somebody has to explain to my parents that every month their daughter is going to go howling at the moon,” you reasoned. “Besides, I want you both to have fun at Newt’s this summer without worrying about me. It’s too much of a burden.”

“You’re not a burden,” Newt exhorted, forcing you to meet his eyes once again. 

The train whistled again, once this time. Five minutes. The platform was less crowded now, only a few groups of people scattered the concrete.

"You should really get going, I wouldn’t want you to be stuck here with me,” you tease.

Leta picked up her suitcase and turned to Newt. “I’ll go save us a seat.”

Before she left, she gave you a hug and promised to write. You watched her as she boarded the car and disappeared from sight, leaving you and Newt alone. You offered him a smile. 

“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?” Newt asked. 

“It’s only for a couple days,” you assure him. 

“And your parents? How do you think they’ll react?” 

You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m not sure,” you tell him. “I hope they understand. But a part of me is skittish. They’re already a bit partial about me being a witch. What if they want nothing to do with me when they find out?”

“I think it will be hard,” he says. “But I’m sure they’ll understand. And if things get too comp—... If things get too complicated, you know you can always come stay with me.”

The smile you gave him made him nervous and he scrambled to fill the silence. 

“Mm...M-My mother won't mind. You know how much she likes you,” he adds.

“Thank you, Newt.”

The sound of the train preparing for departure brought you both out of your daze. He was taken aback when you lunged at him and pulled him into a hug. You wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your chin on his shoulder. 

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” you order.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. “I wouldn't dream of it.”

When you let go, you watched him pick up his trunks and hastily make his way to the car. He took a step up before turning around to look at you. You smiled and waved goodbye. 

He seemed to hesitate, staying in place as though he didn't know whether to stay or leave. After a fleeting thought, Newt nodded in your direction and gave you a tight-lipped smile before rushing into the car and disappearing from sight.

You stood on the platform with a few other students that had been left behind. The train whistle blew one last time before the train jerked forward and the wheels began to turn. Students aboard popped their heads out the windows and yelled goodbye to their friends and the professors that were monitoring boarding. You saw your Davina and Priscilla frantically waving at you from their windows and you couldn't help the bright smile that it brought you. You excitedly waved back, blowing them kisses and sending them hearts as they pulled further and further away, until eventually they were too far away, and you were left staring at the back of the Hogwarts Express as it rode off into the valley. 

──── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ────

Fridays were great. Fridays were the days you could relax and unwind from all the work and stress the previous days brought you. On this particular Friday, you chose to take a well-deserved break in Hogsmeade. You, Davina, and Priscilla were sitting in a booth at the Three Broomsticks. Davina was talking about how excited she was about the quidditch match. Theo finally made it to the Hufflepuff quidditch team after trying out for two years and was chosen to be a chaser. This was going to be his first game. 

“He’s so good I can’t wait for you guys to see him,” Davina raved. “I’m confident we’ll win now that he’s playing!”

Priscilla scoffed. “Have you forgotten who you’re playing? Gryffindor hasn’t lost a game yet, and with Potter on the team there is no way you’ll win.”

“I’ll have you know that the captain of the Hufflepuff team said that they haven't had a chaser as confident and dedicated as Theo in years,” Davina boasts. 

“That isn’t exactly a compliment,” Priscilla snickered.

“Would it kill you to say something supportive? Would you shrivel up and die?”

You sipped your butterbeer as you watched the two bicker, a small smile painted on your lips. You took a look around the tavern and catch the eye of fellow students and locals that you knew. You were about to call off the catfight that was still ensuing beside you when you saw Newt sitting at a table in the corner of your eye. You hadn't noticed him there before. He was sitting alone, sipping on his own glass of butterbeer and reading a book. You smiled and looked away, stopping yourself from staring any longer. 

You moved your attention to the foam sitting in your cup. You scooped up the sweet foam with a spoon and shoved it in your mouth. You lapped up all the foam to fill your mouth with sweets. You were on your last scoop when you couldn't help but notice an uneasy feeling rising in your stomach. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and you couldn't shake the feeling of somebody watching you. 

You take a sneaky glance at Newt’s table to see him completely lost in his book. You frown, turning back to your now empty glass of butterbeer. The feeling was still there, the uneasiness that speeds up your heart and squeezes your stomach. You shake your head and try to brush it off. Sliding from the booth, you stand to your feet, and turn to your squabbling friends. 

“I’m going to get more butterbeer, I’ll be right back,” you inform them.

Priscilla sighs and Davina perks up as if she suddenly remembered something.

“Wait,” she says, making you stop in your tracks. “We should probably head to the shop right now. I want to get Theo his gift before the game.”

“Okay, why don’t you guys go and I’ll meet you there.”

Davina nods and you tell them both goodbye before picking up your glass from the table and walking to the bar. 

You take a seat on a stool and call over the bartender. You ask for a refill and wait for her to return with your drink. You didn’t wait long. She came back less than a minute later with a nice cold glass of butterbeer and you tipped her five sickles. You take the mug in one hand and slip from the stool. You turn to walk back to your table and nearly bump into someone in the process. 

“I’m sorry,” you chuckle as you back out of the way to greet the stranger. 

When you took a moment to look at them, you weren't expecting to see a pair of unmistakable bright green eyes looking back at you.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” he asked. 

You were frozen in place. The glass in your hand fell to the floor, crashing loudly to the ground. The tavern fell silent and everyone looked to see where the noise had come from. You swallowed the bile that threatened to spew from your mouth. You didn’t know how you managed to escape, just that everyone in your body wanted to get as far away from them as possible.

You rushed to the nearest exit you could find and it leads you to the alleyway. Your body reacts on its own, hurling over and vomiting all the glasses of butterbeer. You cough and sputter until it you were choking on your own tongue. You wiped your mouth on the back of your sleeve. Your eyes filled with tears and heavy sobs wrecked your body. You cover your mouth to muffle the sounds, sulking further into the alley away from the main street. 

The door to the alley swung open, catching your attention. A man in an old suit tailored for someone at least fifty pounds larger than him. Piercing green eyes looked down at you through black shaggy curls. He raised his hands defensively.

“I’m not here to hurt you, lass,” he said. 

“Stay the hell away from me,” you seethed, putting on a brave face. 

“I just wanna talk.” He took a daring step towards you. 

You flinched and backed away.

“I don't want to hear anything you have to say to me!”

“Ye dunna understand—”

“I understand everything!” You fume. “I know who you are. What you are. Do you? Do you know what you are?” You tore the scarf from around your neck to show him your scars. “WHAT YOU DID TO ME?” 

The man’s eyes glistened with the tears he tried to hold back. “That night— I wasna myself!”

“You think I don’t know that?” you snarl. “One night a month— every month, I am not myself!”

“I just wanted to see ye. To tell ye I’m sorry!” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sorry? You’re sorry? It took you this long to gather the courage to tell me you’re sorry?”

“I-I had to be sure. If you’d just listen to me—”

“Listen to you? LISTEN TO YOU?” You scoff. “I don’t want to listen to you. I don’t want to hear your voice. I don’t want to see your face— the mere sight of you makes me want to vomit, can’t you see? I DON’T WANT TO BE NEAR YOU DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

“Please...”

He stepped closer to you, reaching out for you. You veered from his grasp, tripping over your own feet and slipping on a patch of ice. You fell hard to the ground, landing on your back. You groan on impact, coughing up all the air left in your lungs. The man crouched down next to you and grabbed your arm gently.

 “Jeez, lass, let me help ye—” 

“DON’T BLOODY TOUCH ME!” 

You violently shake him off, punching him in the nose in the process. He shouts in pain and moves away clutching his nose. Just then, the door flew open, drawing both of your attention. And you couldn’t be more relieved to see the person who emerged from behind the wooden door.

“(y/n)?” 

Your eyes widened as Newt rushed to your side. He kneeled on the ground beside you, his eyes filled with worry. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, his brows furrowed in concern. 

All it took for you to break were those big hazel eyes looking down at you. All defensive tactics left your mind. Your hardened features softened, and you let the tears break through. 

“Newt...” You whimper.

He takes your hand and arm to help you stand up. You wince at the newfound soreness growing in your lower back. Newt then turns to the man who was currently clutching his bloodied nose and glares at him almost threateningly. 

“What did you do to her?” He asks. 

“What did I do to her? I’m the one with the bloody nose here!” The man quipped.

“Who are you?” 

The man spits blood on the ground and wipes his nose on his sleeve. “My name is Jamie, Jamie Knox. I-I’m from around here.”

“Why have you been following (y/n)?” Newt asks. “Y-You’ve been watching her all day. I saw you.”

The man looks between you and Newt. You were seeing him clearly now, without the rage blinding your perception. He couldn't be much older than you, most likely in his early twenties. He was skinny, scrawny even. You would even say he looked just as threatened as you. When his eyes met yours they softened. He sighed, having given in to the situation.

“That night, I was stupid,” he began. “I wasna myself. Not just because of the moon, but because I had been drinking. I was angry and I let that anger control me.” He looked directly at you. “You know what that’s like, though, don’t ye?”

When you didn’t respond he continued.

“It was a mistake,” he tells you. “When I woke up I was alone, freezin’ my arse off in the snow. But it wasna the snow or the woods that scared me, it was the blood. I could taste it in my mouth. It was on my hands, under my nails, on my chest... I spent the day cleanin’ myself of it.”

Newt tensed, his jaw clenched in discomfort. Jamie licked his lips nervously and twisted his gloves in his hands.

“Later that night, I started remembering things. What I had done. They were just flashes, bits n’ pieces but... I remember seeing a girl, lying in the snow in a pretty dress just... a-and the blood— I saw her covered in it.”

He was crying now. He looked at you through watery eyes and tried to speak through his hiccups. He fell to his knees on the ground, hunched over in despair. Newt looked between you and Jamie, his own eyes misted with tears. He hadn’t heard much about the night you were attacked and this painted a picture he didn't want to see. 

“She looked dead!” he cried. “Lying there in the snow. She wasna moving and her eyes— I could not forget her eyes. They were dead eyes and they were looking straight at me with so much fear...”

You frowned, trying your best to keep your tears from falling. 

“Don’t ye see, lass? I thought I killed ye! For months I was killing myself and begging God for forgiveness! I didna know how I could live with myself— I almost didn’t! But then, just when I had given up, I saw ye. Months ago I saw ye walking down these streets with your friends and I said ‘I know those eyes’. I couldna believe that it was you. Not only were ye alive, but you were smiling. Laughing. You were happy.”

He chuckles at the memory and wipes the tears from his face. 

“I watched ye that day. I wasn’t sure it was you at the time. I wanted to be sure. You were happy then. You didn’t look scared or in pain. I didna want to be the one to change that, so I left ye alone. Or, I don’t know, maybe I was scared. B-But then I saw ye today, after all this time. I watched you and your friends again. I dunna know why I just felt like I needed to. And when ye finally were alone, something came over me. I had to talk to ye. That’s when I came up to ye at the bar. And when you saw me— the fear in yer eyes when you saw me. I knew it was you... and I knew you remembered me.”

Jamie looks you in the eyes. They were desperate and pleading.

“I’m so sorry, lass. There's nothing I can do to make it up to ye and I know that. But I canna live with myself if I didna ask for your forgiveness. Please! Please forgive me!”

Newt brought his attention back to you when he felt you move from his hold. He watched you walk to the broken man and kneel before him. Jamie looked at you with hopeful eyes. You wiped the tears that stained your cheeks. You looked him in the eyes, unwavering. 

“I never want to see your face again.”

Jamie looked at you in shock. Your face was cold and unforgiving. He watched you stand to your feet and walked past his deflated form. You left the alley and headed back to the castle, stifling the cries that threatened to escape. 

•••      

You were sitting alone in the fairy glade later that night. You were laying under the tree, looking up at the stars through the branches. You were lost in your own thoughts when you heard rustling in the woods. The sound of footprints heading towards you caught your attention. When you turned your head to the unannounced stranger you saw Newt standing just a few feet away. 

“You weren’t at the game,” he remarked.

“No. I wasn’t,” you confirmed.

“We lost.”

“Was it close?”

“By a hair.”

You move your head to look back at the sky and hummed in approval.  “Good for Theo.”

You could feel the autumn chill beginning to push out the summer breeze. You shivered when it tickled down your spine. 

“Are you cold?”

You nodded. “A little.” 

You heard him walk to your side and lay next to you. You were surprised when you felt him drape his robe over you, engulfing you in warmth. You turn to look at him again. He was laying on his back, just like you, looking up at the stars. You turned your body to lay on your side and lift the robe to cover him as well. He turned to you and copied your position. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

“Sorry for what?” He asks. 

“For what you saw. For what you heard.”

“You don’t have to apologize for that,” he assures you. 

“I know. But I feel like I do.”

You stared at each other, for a while it seemed. You were exhausted, he could tell. Your eyes and cheeks were faintly swollen from crying. It pained him to see you like that. Earlier that day in the alleyway, you were so cold, so angry, so scared. He heard things, things he felt he shouldn’t hear. It made him realize just how little he knew about what you went through. 

“Why won’t you talk about what happened?” He asked. 

You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean? I told you what happened.”

“Yes, but you never told me how or why it happened.” He corrected.

You looked down at the grass below you, avoiding his gaze. You began to pick at the patch of grass, pulling the blades of grass out of the ground.

“What’s there to know? I was attacked by a werewolf on a full moon and I almost died.”

“And the man in the alley today, he was the wolf that attacked you? The one who turned you?” He questioned.

“Yes.”

You swallowed the lump that was sitting in your throat in hopes it would go away, but it stayed. 

“I should hate him,” you mutter. “I should hate him for what he did to me.”

“You don’t?” 

You take a deep breath and blinked away the tears that began to form. 

“I hated the monster that preyed on me. The beast that came from the shadows like a black mist. The creature that attacked me and nearly killed me. The phantom that cursed me. A few hours ago that’s all it was. A monster. A fairy tale creature brought to life. Now, the monster has a face. The monster has human eyes. They have feelings and emotions. They’re human, like me.”

“When I saw him for the first time— and I mean really saw him—I saw myself. He wasn’t a monster or a phantom. He was cursed, just like me. And I realized that it could have easily been me groveling on the street begging someone I hurt for forgiveness.”

You sniffed and quickly wiped a tear from your cheek. 

“Then why did you turn him away when he asked?” Newt questioned.

“Because I can’t,” you uttered. “I can’t just forgive him. After everything that—”

You choked on your own words, having worked yourself up thinking back on everything. You began to cry, quietly as if not to disturb anyone around you. You sniffed and feverishly wiped away your tears.

“Remember when he said that he wished he’d died rather than live with the curse?”

Newt nodded.

“I think I do too. Sometimes,” you confess. “Sometimes I wonder if it was all worth it. If all the pain and people I hurt.... the people I lost. My family.”

“Y-Your family?”

You swallowed and looked at Newt again for the first time since you started talking. 

“They left me, Newt.” You whisper, surprising him. You played with a blade of grass in your hands. 

“This summer, when I went back home I told them everything. They were shocked and angry, understandably so. They almost pulled me out of school. Thankfully, Dumbledore was there to convince them otherwise. I suppose they didn’t fully understand what it was. How it worked or what it did. What it would look like. I tried to send them away. I told them to go to bed and that I would see them in the morning in time for breakfast, but they wanted to be there for me. That night they stayed with me until moonrise and they were there when I... They were there when I turned. The next morning I woke up in the basement chained to the wall. By the time I got myself out and went upstairs, they were gone. Their drawers and wardrobe had been picked clean. Pictures were gone. They left me nothing but a note that said ‘We’re sorry’.” You chuckled halfheartedly. “I imagine it would have hurt less if they had put ‘We love you’ after it.”

Newt looked down at your hands that were still toying with the grass. 

“I can’t forgive him,” you say. “If I do that— if I forgive him, I’ll have no one else to blame. Everything bad that happens to me, every person I lose and every person I hurt— all of it is on me. It’ll be because of me.”

Newt sat in silence, reminiscing about what you said. You could tell it was a lot for him to take in. You look up from the ground to face him. 

“You must think I’m selfish.” You deduce. 

“You’re not selfish, (y/n),” He tells you. “You are the most unselfish person I have ever met. I don’t blame you for feeling the way you do. You have every right to be angry.”

“But?” You add, sensing that he had more to say. 

“But,” he began. “You should try to forgive him.”

“What?” 

“What he did to you was awful and I hate him for it. Actually, I don’t think he deserves your forgiveness at all.”

“Then why are you telling me I should?”

“Because you deserve it,” he says. “You deserve to be happy, to live your life without being afraid of yourself.”

Newt saw the hesitation in your eyes. You were afraid of the outcome; worried about what would happen next if you allowed yourself to forgive and If it would even be worth it.

“I’m not saying do it for him,” he clarified. “Do it for you.”

You sniffed and nodded, giving into his advice. Newt seemed pleased with the change in demeanor. 

“And I’m sorry about your parents,” he uttered, sincerely. “I don’t think there’s anything I can say to lessen the pain you feel. I can only promise that I’ll never leave you. No matter what.”

Tears fell down your cheeks and watered the grass. You feel his fingers tickle your cheek before he pushes a strand of hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear. You stare at him with shaky eyes.

“Promise me,” you ask, desperately. “Promise you’ll never leave.”

“I’ll never leave you, (y/n),” he whispered just as softly.

You smiled, comforted by his words. A silence fell over you both. You could hear the water of the creek flowing, the crickets chirping, and the trees rustling in the wind. You shivered again and moved closer to Newt. He lifted his arm to wrap around you and let you lay your head on his chest. 

“Let’s stay here for a while.” You mumble.

He rested his chin on your head and looked up at the stars in the sky.

“Okay.”

•••      

“I can’t do this.” 

You walked down the cabin’s porch stairs. You gripped the strap of your satchel that was slung over your shoulders. Your hands itched. Why were they itching?  Newt watched as you paced in the snow. 

“Newt, I’ve changed my mind. Can we just go, please?” 

It had taken you a week to gain the courage to confront Jamie. When you told Newt your plan he came willingly for support. You woke up early Saturday morning and met Newt in the common room. He was waiting for you on the couch. When he heard your footsteps he stood up and shot you a reassuring smile. You were anxious, he could read it all over your face. The two of you walked to Hogsmeade and asked the locals if they knew Jamie Knox and where he lived. It seemed that the mere mention of his name made people turn away in disgust. 

You had just about given up your search when an old woman manning a kiosk called you over on the street. 

“Lookin’ for wee Jamie are ya?” she’d inquired.  

You told her you were. She helpfully pointed you into the direction of his house, claiming that he’d most likely be there. After you thanked her, she seemed to be conflicted by a sudden sadness. 

“The poor lad,” she sighed. “I knew him when he was just a bairn. I used to watch him for his parents sometimes. They were a lovely couple, ‘tis a shame what happened to ‘em.”

“I’m sorry, what happened?” You asked, suddenly curious. 

“Don’t you know? They died when he was a child. It was one of the worst things to ever happen to this town. Years ago a werewolf came through town wreaking havoc. It tore through shops just lookin’ for something to eat. A shame that it wandered to their cabin...”

Her pained smile fell and she shook her head.

“Mr. Knox and the missus were found torn apart in their own home. Jamie was found hidden in a crawl space all banged up, but thankfully alive. He was a fine boy. Now he barely comes into town. The locals are afraid of him. They say that he was the wolf who killed his parents that night. Can ye believe that?”

From the look on your face, she could tell the information had unsettled you.

“Oh, I see. You didn’t know. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told ye.”

You thanked her again and continued down the street. Since then you’ve been filled with an immense amount of guilt and pity. The more you learned about Jamie, the more you saw yourself in him. 

Now you stood in front of his home, an old cabin purposefully isolated from the rest of the town with clammy hands and a nervous stomach. Newt watched you slowly start to unravel. He walked up to you and held your shoulders. 

“You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” he reminded you. “Do you want to go back?”

You nodded and Newts arms slid off your shoulders. You both turned on your heels to start back into the direction you came when suddenly the door to the cabin opened. You looked back to see a young pregnant woman standing in the door frame. She was tall and skinny despite her bump. Her hair was dreaded into long black locks that had been pulled back away from her face. Her dark brown skin seemed to glow despite the lack of sun, and you wondered if it was always like that or if it was a perk from being pregnant. 

“Can I help you?” She asked. She was American.

You and Newt shared a look, and he took the opportunity to speak for you.

“D-Does a Jamie Knox live here?” He asked her. 

The woman furrowed her brows and crossed her arms. “Why?” 

You took a step forward. “My name is (y/n) (l/n). I came to see him.”

The woman’s guarded demeanor changed and she stared at you in disbelief. Just then, Jamie emerged from the house, presenting himself to you. His face mirrored the same expression of surprise. 

You entered the cabin upon their permission. It was a rickety old place, having aged for a great sum of years. You wouldn't have believed anyone lived in the house at all if the old woman hadn’t told you so herself. Everything seemed to creek, from the floor to the door. You sat on a lumpy sofa next to Newt. It was old and ragged but was embellished with a feminine touch, just like the rest of the house. Jamie sat in an equally ragged loveseat adjacent from you. His hands were clasped together in his lap. He was particularly focused on the coffee table in front of him and his right leg jittered anxiously.

The woman looked between you and Jamie. “I’ll get us some tea,” she said, filling the silence. 

She took off to the kitchen, rummaging through pots and pans. You assessed your surroundings, noting every crack and every picture you saw, not that there were many. There were photographs of a couple you inferred were Jamie’s parents. In one that caught your eye, they were smiling and holding a young Jamie in their hands.

You were lost in your thoughts when the woman returned, holding a wooden tray with a teapot and four cups on top of it. She placed the tray on the coffee table and placed the cups of tea on the table for everyone. 

“I’m sorry about earlier,” she said as she began filling the cups with tea. “We don’t usually get visitors, and when we do it’s the local kids pulling pranks. Then you said your name and... Well, I just didn't expect it to be you. It’s good to see you again, I’m glad you’re well.”

“You know who I am?” You asked.

She paused, her face changing immediately, and began to toy with her necklace, a silver chain that held a square white stone. She looked at Jamie for a second, before turning back to you with a smile. 

“Oh, yes. I meant that Jamie told me about you before— yes, that’s it!”

You eyed her suspiciously but didn't persist the matter further. When all the cups were filled she placed the pot down and moved to sit next to Jamie. Jamie moved for the first time since he sat down, standing up to help guide the pregnant woman to the loveseat. 

“Congratulations,” said Newt, gesturing to her budding belly. 

The woman smiled and instinctively brought her hand over her stomach. You noticed the modest ring that sparkled on her finger.

“Thank you,” she grinned. “Should be any day now.”

A thick silence swept the room, the only sounds that interrupted it being the crackle of the fireplace and the ticking of the clock. You turned to Newt, who was already looking at you. He gave you an encouraging nod, letting you know it was time. You turn to face the woman. 

“Do you think you could give us a moment alone?” You asked.

“Oh,” she faltered, glancing at Jamie. He gave her a reassuring nod to send her off. “Of course. I’ll just be in the kitchen then.”

“I’ll go too,” Newt offered. He stood to his feet, not before laying a comforting hand on your shoulder, and made his way to her. He took her hand and helped her up before following her into the kitchen. Once they were gone, Jamie cleared his throat, drawing your attention. 

“May I ask why you’ve come here?” His voice cracked.

You sighed and straightened your posture. You look directly at Jamie and try to order the words in your head, picking your next few sentences carefully.

“I’m only going to say this once, so listen close,” you warned. “I forgive you.”

Jamie perked up at your words, turning his head to face you. The intensity in your gaze assured him that you were serious.

“I'm not doing this for you,” you clarified. “I’m doing this for me. I could resent you for the rest of my life. I could make sure that the guilt you feel never goes away and let you live on knowing that you ruined my life.”

Jamie looked down at his hands and shifted uncomfortably. You breathe in from your nose to calm down.

“But I won’t,” you add. “If I do then I’ve sentenced my own life to death. I won’t let this ruin my life or my happiness. The only way I can truly move on is if I let go. This is me letting go.”

You picked up your bag from the floor. You opened it and pulled out a large bottle filled with glowing blue liquid. You placed it on the table in front of him. Jamie blinked, puzzled by the strange object.

“This is a wolfsbane potion. If you drink a small amount of this every night the week leading up to a full moon it will lessen the effects of lycanthropy. It will take you longer to transform, and it will be more painful, but once you turn your consciousness will be equivalent to that of a regular wolf. You won't be as aggressive or strong as a werewolf. The potion is like a sedative and eventually, you will fall asleep.” 

“How can this be real?” Jamie quavered. “How did you get this?”

“I made it,” you told him. “I spent months researching, gathering the ingredients, and perfecting the proportions until it was right. I have taken it for the last five moons. This bottle alone can last you four moons. It’s the last of it I have and I want you to take it as a token of my forgiveness.”

Jamie shook his head and pushed the bottle towards you. “I-I can’t accept this. Your word is enough.”

“Take it,” you urged. “Remember what you said to me in the alley. ‘You know what it’s like?’ I do. I know what it’s like to be a slave to the full moon. To fear yourself and what you could do to those you love. If I can lessen the pain and make it easier for people like us, then that’s what I’ll do. You didn’t deserve what happened to you, and you don’t deserve to suffer for something you can't control. Nobody does.”

You pushed the bottle back to him. You went in your bag again and pulled out a sheet of parchment. It was the list of ingredients and instructions for creating a wolfsbane potion. You placed it next to the bottle for him to see.

“Take the potion. Make more if you can.” You took his hand, surprising you both. “I’ve forgiven you. You have to do the rest.”

Jamie placed his hand on top of yours and smiled through the tears that fell down his sunken cheeks. 

“Thank you! Thank you so much!”

•••      

The meeting with Jamie didn’t last long. You stayed until you had finished your tea, not wanting to overstay your welcome. You said your goodbyes and left the old cabin, making your way down the trail back to the main village.

“Wait!”

You both stopped and looked over your shoulders. The woman from earlier was waving as she made her way towards you. You told Newt to stay behind while you met her halfway. You left him down the road and walked up to the woman. Once you were close enough she spoke.

“Thank you, for forgiving him,” she said. “He’s been killing himself over it since it happened.”

“You’re welcome.”

She handed you a basket covered by a blue cloth.

“I, uh, wanted you to have these. They’re pastries. I made them myself. Take them, it’s the least we can do.”

You took the basket and lifted the cloth to reveal the array of freshly made pastries piled inside. There were danishes and muffins and many other sweets that suited your tastes. 

You furrowed your brows. “I never got your name.”

“Ora,” she said. “Ora Quill.”

You repeated the name to yourself to help you remember. 

You gave her a quick smile. “Thank you, Ora.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled back. She started to return to the cabin when you called out to her.

“I know it was you.”

She turned around to face you and frowned slightly. “Sorry?”

“It never made sense to me how I survived. How I left the glade, or how they found me,” you tell her. “But it was you, wasn't it? You were the person who found me and brought me back to the castle. I can't recall much about what happened, but a few things are still clear.”

She shifted away uncomfortably and you pressed on.

“The night I was attacked,” you reminisced. “There was a fire in the glade. You caused it to scare him away. I know it was you because I remember seeing a silver amulet, just like the one you are wearing. ”

Her hand reaches up to grasp the amulet that hung around her neck.

“How did you know?” You ask.

“I’m a divinator,” she tells you. You couldn’t help but be in awe. Even though you were muggle-born you knew that divination isn’t a common gift among wizards. It takes years for a wizard to even scratch the surface of divination, let alone master it. However, some witches and wizards are born with the gift, having the ability to see into the future from a young age. A witch like Ora is hard to find. 

“On those nights, I help Jamie,” she explains. “He can’t get through them alone. When he didn’t return home that night, I had a premonition. I went looking for him in the woods. I was lost and nearly gave up, but then I heard the screams. I saw him, hovering over you. I knew he might... I knew he’d kill you if I didn't do something.”  

“You saved my life.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry you needed saving to begin with.”

“Still. Thank you.”

She tilted her head and began walking back to the cabin.

“And Ora?” You called, making her turn around. 

“Yes?” She answered. 

“Jamie. Do you love him?”

“Of course. With all my heart.”

“Even after seeing what he is capable of?”

She didn’t even blink before answering. “Yes.”

The answer relieved you. You didn’t know why, but there was a weight that had lifted off your shoulders at her reply. She noticed it too, she saw it in your eyes.

“Then don’t leave him,” You told her, though it came out more like a question. “People like us... We can’t be alone.”

Ora’s eye’s softened, understanding the message between the lines. 

“I won’t,” she promised.

Satisfied with her answers, you didn't persist her any longer. You watched her leave for the last time until she disappeared behind the cabin door. You made your way back to Newt who was waiting patiently for you. He was surprised when you took a pastry from the basket and handed it to him. You walked side by side 

“Want to go to the Three Broomsticks?” You asked, turning to the tall redhead. 

You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face upon seeing him. He was happily eating the pastry you had given him, leaving red filling on the corner of his lips. 

He looked down at you quizzically. “What?”

You laughed and shook your head. “Nothing.”

Newt smiled, happy to see your mood lifting, and continued to walk next to you down the trail.

•••      

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” 

You were woken out of your sleep with the sound of poppers and girlish cheers. You pried your eyes open to see Davina and your other roommates, Azra and Liddie, gathered around your bed. Confetti fell around you and you noticed three boxed gifts laying on your bed. A grin spread across your face.

“You guys, I told you I didn’t need gifts this year,” you reminded them. 

Liddie rolled her eyes. “You tell us that every year.” 

“And every year we give you gifts,” Davina adds. 

“It’s your sixteenth birthday, (y/n), there’s no need to be so humble,” Liddie says as she takes a seat on your bed. “C’mon then, open mine first!”

She hands you her gift and you can tell she wrapped it herself. You thanked her and excitedly unwrapped the box to reveal a pair of earrings that had caught your eye in a shop at Hogsmeade, but you couldn’t afford them. It was so long ago you’d forgotten all about them.

“Liddie, I couldn't possibly accept this—” you contested.

“You can and you will,” she insisted. 

“How did you remember? I haven't thought about these in months.”

“Oh please, I bought them for you the moment you said you liked them,” she explains. “It was the least I could do. A friend like you is rare and a thousand earrings couldn't amount to all the kind things you've done for me.”

You smile and lean over to give her a hug. “Thank you, Liddie. I love them.”

“Me next!” Azra sat in the middle of your bed and held out a bigger box, making you pull away from Liddie. 

You took the box and lifted the top to reveal a unique looking teddy bear. You grinned and took the stuffed toy out of the box and held it. It was clearly hand-stitched, but you liked the character it gave it. 

“How cute,” you coo. 

“I made it myself,” she tells you. “I know it’s not much, but I’ve noticed you sometimes have night terrors. Maybe with this by your side, you won't be so scared anymore...”

You looked up at Azra and see her anxiously staring at you through her large glasses. 

“I love it, Az. You’re so sweet.” 

She blushed, her tan cheeks glowing a soft red. You giggled and pulled her into a hug as well. When you let go, Davina pushed Azra further down the bed and took her place. She handed you a large, blue-dyed leather book that was wrapped in a skinny pink ribbon. The book itself was lovely. It was decorated with embroidery and etchings of flowers and animals.

“I didn’t have time to wrap it,” she explained. 

You pulled the string of the bow to unravel the ribbon and opened the book, revealing the pages inside. You flipped through the pages, admiring the meticulous details. 

“It’s an album of our favorite memories with you,” Davina explained. “Everyone pitched in but it was my idea. We just wanted to let you know how much we care about you.”

The longer you looked through it, the more you felt like crying. In the pages of the book were photographs, notes, drawings and tokens that reminded you of your friends. There was a page for all of your friends. They all said kind, beautiful things about you and your friendship. You’d been quiet for so long Davina grew nervous.

“Do you like it?” She asked. 

You let out a breathy laugh and nodded. “I love it. Thank you so much.” 

You couldn't stop the tears from breaking through. The girls wasted no time enclosing you in a suffocating group hug. You laughed through the tears, hugging them back and thanking them all for their presents. 

•••      

“Pleeeeaseee,” you begged. 

Priscilla rolled her eyes, annoyed by your pestering. 

“It’s my birthday. You can’t say no to someone on their birthday.”

“Of course I can, I just did,” she retorts. 

You pout your lips and grab the sleeve of her robe, shaking it vigorously.  

“Can’t you play nice for one night? That’s all I’m asking! One night out with my friends and I’ll never ask for anything again, I promise!”

The librarian came down to the table you, Priscilla, and Davina were sitting at and hushed you promptly, making you cringe. Priscilla smirked at this and turned a page in her book. Davina, who was relatively quiet for the whole debate leaned across the table to whisper to you.

“I’m not sure I want to go either,” she reveals. “What if we get caught out of bed after hours, we could be expelled!”

“Davina I’ve sneaked out of bed for years and have only been caught three times, two of which resulted in detention. Trust me, we will be fine!”

“Yes but I’m not like you or Prissy! I’m not sneaky or a good liar, I’ll definitely get caught!” She anxiously divulged. 

The librarian returned for a second time to shush Davina before angrily trotting away. She shrunk in her seat, a light blush dusting her pale cheeks. 

“See?” She whispered.

“We won’t get caught,” you promise. “Besides, it’s Friday, no one will be looking for us. I just want one night with my friends for my birthday. Did you know I’m sixteen? You only turn sixteen once!”

“You’re so bloody dramatic,” Priscilla groans as she closes her book. “Fine! We’ll go. But if Lestrange and Scamander so much as look at me funny—”

She didn’t have the chance to finish her sentence before you tackled her into a hug.

“THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!”

You were so excited you hadn’t thought to manage your voice. The librarian glared at your table as she marched towards you. With the flick of her wand, the chairs flew from underneath you, sending the three of you to the ground. You all shriek in surprise and look up to find the librarian smirking down at you. She shushed you again, before turning on her heels and walking away. The three of you looked at each other in bewilderment before bursting into a fit of laughter, covering your mouths to keep them from escaping.

•••      

“This is a bad idea,” Davina fretted. 

You, Davina and Newt were sneaking through the castle halls to meet Leta and Priscilla by a hidden corridor that would lead you outside. You were rounding the corner down a dark hall with your wands lighting the path. Davina was close behind you and Newt. She gripped the back of your jacket tightly almost as if she were afraid you’d disappear if she let go. 

“We’re almost there, Vina,” You told her in hopes to calm her nerves. 

You turned to another corridor to reach the door you were looking for. Newt opened the door and held it for you and Davina to slip inside and closed the door behind him, leaving you all in a circular room between two halls. You smiled upon seeing Leta and Priscilla already waiting inside.

“Took you long enough!” Priscilla groaned.

“Sorry, it took a bit more convincing to get this one to come along,” you said, gesturing to Davina who apologized shamefully.

“It’s okay,” said Leta. She pointed to the hall on the right. “This is the way.”

Leta leads the way, leading everyone down the hall. Leta and Davina were chatting at the front of the line. Newt was listening, adding his own sense into the conversation. You were mindlessly walking when you were suddenly yanked from your place beside Newt and pulled into a corner. You turn to your capture and see that it is Priscilla. 

“I can't do it,” she whispered, making you roll your eyes. “Why did you have to include them?”

“What is your problem with them? What did they ever do to you?” You whisper back.

“It’s not about what they did to me,” she says. “It’s about what they did to you!”

Your forehead wrinkled as you stared at her in complete exasperation. Priscilla sighs and rubs her temple.

“You wouldn’t have been attacked that night if it weren't for them,” she criticized. “And the sad thing is it’s not even her fault, it’s his!”

“I can’t believe you,” you scoff.

“He left you, (y/n)! He left you to be with her and what happened? You nearly died!”

“That’s not fair Priscilla,” you say defensively. “It wasn’t Newt’s fault. It wasn't anybody’s fault, it was an accident!”

“You’re only saying that because you’re in love with him!”

You huff in defeat, throwing your head back to rest against the wall. “Can we do this another time? You promised you’d play nice, so play nice. For me.”

Priscilla saw the look on your face and her eyes softened. “Alright,” she sighed. “I’m sorry. I just don't want you to get hurt again.”

“You don’t have to worry about me Prissy,” you simpered. “Let’s get back to the others, okay?”

Priscilla nodded and you both shared a smile. You leave the corner to continue down the hall, Priscilla walking next to you. Once you caught up with the rest they hardly realized you were missing. When you reached the end of the corridor, there was an arched door waiting for you.

Leta turned and smiled at you. “Are you ready?”

You nodded excitedly. “Ready!”

“Then close your eyes.”

You did as she said and closed your eyes. You heard the door open and felt someone grab your hand and pull you forward. You walked cautiously with them, a big smile plastered on your face. You kept questioning the giggles and hushed whispers as you walked blindly, only to be ignored. You noticed how it got colder the further you walked. The hand that guided you left yours and you stopped.

You recognize Davina’s voice. “You can open your eyes now.”

With an excited smile, you slowly peel your eyes open and let your vision adjust. It was bright, that was the first thing you noticed. Warm light filled the room from the candles that were strategically placed all around. Winter themed decorations were everywhere, it was almost tacky how much there was. A record began to play, filling the room with slow music.

Everyone looked at you expectingly. 

“Well? Do you like it?” Leta asked. 

You were stunned. You knew that Leta and Newt were planning something for you, as they had mentioned taking you to an abandoned storage room in a new area of the castle to celebrate your birthday. You expected something more relaxed, a place to eat and goof around. You didn't expect this. Your silence made them anxious. 

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” Davina whispers to Priscilla. 

Newt gave Leta a troubled look, not knowing how to handle the situation.

“It’s a winter ball,” Leta begins to explain. “Newt and I were thinking about how you never got to enjoy the winter ball because of the attack. We thought that maybe you’d want a do-over, so that this time, you can get the dance you deserved.”

The corner of your lips twitched into a smile. Suddenly, you went into a fit of laughter, laughing so hard tears formed at the corner of your eyes. You tried to stop, sputtering incoherent apologies and stifling giggles. It wasn’t the reaction the others were expecting and they were dumbfounded as they watched. 

“I’m sorry,” you wheeze. “I don’t mean to laugh, really.”

“You don’t like it.” Leta deduced, shame overtaking her features. You were quick to stop her assumption, shaking your head profusely and did your best to compose yourself. 

“No, no, no,” you say. “I love it, honestly. It’s lovely, I just wasn't expecting.. well, this. It’s a bit ironic, actually.”

Davina and Priscilla snickered having shared the same thought. Leta smiled, relieved that you were pleased. The record changed to a new song, a jazzier tune made for dancing. You grin and spontaneously grab Leta’s hand, pulling her to the center of the room. You spun her around leading her into a dance. You erupted into laughter, skipping and prancing around the room wildly. 

Davina, having finally calmed her nerves, followed your actions, taking Priscilla’s hand and dragging her to the center of the room to dance. Priscilla begrudgingly danced with the perky blonde-haired girl, doing her best to seem unamused, but you could swear you caught her smiling. 

Newt was standing off to the side looking awkward and uncomfortable. He caught your eye while you were dancing, to which he quickly lowered his head. You lead Leta over to where he stood in an ambush, each of you grabbing an arm and pulling him to dance. He was reluctant at first, standing stiffly between you both. But when you took his hand and spun him around, he couldn’t help but laugh, soon becoming comfortable enough to enjoy the festivity. 

It managed to be a fun night of events. Not only did you dance, but you also played games and at delicious treats as well. Davina and Priscilla got to know Leta and Newt a bit more, You could even say Priscilla almost started to dislike them a little less that night. Time went by fast and soon everyone grew tired. The walk back to the common rooms took longer than expected. By the time you reached the main hall, Davina had gotten too tired to walk, which led to you carrying her on your back. You said your goodbyes to Leta and Priscilla, who left in the direction of the Slytherin common room and headed back to your own common room. When Davina got too heavy you forced her to walk, much to her dissatisfaction. Her desire to sleep was so strong, however, that she ended up walking faster than both you and Newt. 

You watched your friend slugger her way back to the entrance of the common room and chuckled. You looked up at Newt, who looked just as tired. His eyes were blank and staring absently ahead of him like they’d been the entire walk back. You smiled and playfully nudge his arm as you entered the common room. 

“Are you okay? You used to last much longer before growing so tired,” you tease. “You look like you could sleep on the floor right now.”

Newt shakes his head plays with the fabric of his pants at his side. “It’s just been a long day is all,” he mumbled, looking down at his feet. 

You hum in agreement, ignoring his sudden change in demeanor and blaming it on exhaustion. 

“Well, thank you for coming. I know it made you uncomfortable.”

Newt didn’t answer, his eyes still trained on the ground. You sigh and it turned into a yawn. You noticed the faint streaks of golden light slip through the windows, signifying daybreak.

“Well I’m beat,” you say, capturing his attention. “I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch okay? Sweet dreams.” 

You grin and start walking towards the dormitories. Newt’s eyes followed your form up the stairs and across the banister, where you waved goodbye to him before you disappeared behind the door. Once you were gone he let out an exasperated breath and ran his hand down his face. His eyes filled with tears and he covered his mouth to muffle the sounds of the heavy cries that wrecked his body. 

•••      

About a month had passed since your birthday, and things were going well. So far your fifth year has been great. You integrated yourself back into social events, rekindling old friendships, and making new ones. Your grades were the best they’ve ever been; so much so that you were almost appointed prefect. Everything was going great! Well, almost everything. 

“I can’t believe it,” said a girl. “And you’re sure it was Newt Scamander?”

Your ears perked up upon hearing the hushed voices of two gossiping students behind a bookcase. You were in the library searching for a book when you heard them. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You probably wouldn’t have cared about their conversation at all if they hadn’t said his name. You pull a book from the shelf and peer through the space to see two Hufflepuff students, a boy and a girl, conversing by the shelf. 

“I swear on my wand,” the boy says. “I couldn’t believe it either when I first heard it, but Mildred told me so herself!”

“I know, but he just doesn't seem the type to... you know.” The girl whispered.

“You’re right. But he is friends with Lestrange,” the boy countered as if it were a proper explanation. 

You frowned at the statement. You wanted to tell them off for speaking ill on your friends, but you held back, listening in on their exchange. 

The girl shook her head in disagreement. “Yes, but so is (y/n), and she would never do such a thing!” 

“Well, they haven’t been very close lately, have they?” said the boy.

That was true. While things had been going well for you, things between you and Newt had been... different, to say the least. It wasn’t like last year when you were avoiding him. Things were just different. You were different, and so was he. When you two were together there were many long and awkward minutes of silence, two-sided quips, and an overall distance between each other. Every time you tried to reach out for him, he seemed to recoil and pull further away. You tried not to think much about it, convincing yourself that it was all in your head; but now it was clear that it wasn't just you. Others noticed as well. 

“Poor Amelie,” the girl sighed. “Is she going to be okay?”

“No thanks to Scamander! She was nearly blinded by that jarvey he hexed! Lucky for her, Professor Dumbledore was there to tear it off her before it could.”

“And what about Newt? What’s happened to him?”

“Headmaster Dippet was furious when he found out! He’s getting expelled!”

You nearly toppled over in shock, leaning against the shelf to hold your weight. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. None of it made sense. How could Newt get expelled? Newt would never intentionally hurt someone, and he would never hex a creature to do so. The girl seemed just as surprised as you were, raising her eyebrows and gasping at the new information. 

“Expelled? Are you sure?”

“Yes,” the boy confirmed. “Darren told Gisselle, who told Mildred, who told me! He’s leaving today, I saw him and Headmaster Dippet walking to Hogsmeade station a just a few minutes ago.” 

You drop the book you were holding, no longer concerned about concealing your presence. It falls to the ground loudly due to its mass, catching their attention. You move from the bookshelf and reveal yourself to them, much to their embarrassment and surprise. 

“Where?” You demand. “Where did you see Newt?”

“H-He was with Headmaster Dippet just a few minutes ago. They were leaving the infirmary last I saw and heading towards the courtyard.”

You rush back towards the entrance of the library, running with intense purpose. You gained the odd stares of studying students and the furious librarian who reprimanded you for running in the library. You didn't care. You left the library and ran through the halls to the courtyard. Your legs propelled you forward, burning with every step you took. You rounded the corner when the courtyard was in your sights. Far ahead of you was Newt’s shrunken figure next to Headmaster Dippet. You squint your eyes and see Professor Dumbledore and the groundskeeper pushing a cart full of Newt’s belongings in front of them, confirming your fears.

“Newt!”

You shouted his name, but it came out exasperated and breathy due to the lack of air in your lungs. He couldn’t hear you. He kept walking with one of his cases in hand, his head hanging low in shame. He was walking farther away from you and into the courtyard where a light snowfall floated down around him.

“NEWT!”

You yelled louder this time. You yelled as loud as you could hoping he would turn around. You didn’t care how you looked, or how disruptive and inappropriate you were being. You had to get to him.

“NEWT!”

You practically screamed his name, desperately trying to get his attention. Your efforts were rewarded once you drew closer. Having heard your desperate cries, Newt lifted his head and turned around to see you rushing towards him, red cheeks and all. He stopped in his tracks, an expression of pure bewilderment gracing his features.

“(y/n?)” He called in shock.

Finally, you run into the courtyard and stop in your tracks You hunched over, placing your hands on your knees to catch your breath, clouds of vapor forming from your breaths due to the cold.

“Miss (l/n)! What is the meaning of this?” asked Headmaster Dippet.

“My apologies Headmaster,” you manage to huff. “I was hoping I could speak to Newt one last time before he leaves?”

Headmaster Dippet was a stringent leader and very no-nonsense when it comes to reprimanding students. He had half the mind to scold you and turn you away for halting Newt’s expulsion. But when he saw your reddened and sweaty face, the desperation in your eyes, and the heavy breaths that entered and exited your lungs, a flicker of compassion made him decide otherwise.

“Two minutes,” said the Headmaster, before turning around to leave the two student’s alone. “And not a second longer.”

You and Newt looked at each other, both with equal appraisal. You stood up straight and walked closer to Newt, making sure that you were the only thing in his line of vision.

“So you were just going to leave without saying goodbye?” You ask breathlessly.

Newt swallowed a lump in his throat, his Adam's apple visibly bobbing. This was the last thing he wanted to go through after everything that's happened. He didn't want to see you hurt again. But now that you were there in front of him, your (e/c) eyes wide and full of betrayal, he couldn’t look away.

“I... I didn’t know what to say,” he stammers truthfully.

“Anything,” you pant. “You could say anything.”

Newt bows his head again, avoiding eye contact, much like he did when you were first-years. It pained you to see him act this way towards you. It was like he was reverting to his shy, unsure self. It made you feel like a stranger.

“I know you didn’t do it,” you say. “It isn’t like you.”

It wasn’t hard for you to deduce what had truly happened. Between the information, you gathered from the two students, and Leta’s absence, it was easy to piece together. He was protecting her. Leta was probably trying to pull a prank, as she so often did, and it went horribly wrong. Newt, being who he was and feeling what he felt for her, took the blame.

There was a twinge of jealousy that resonated within you, maybe even a sliver of resentment. A part of you wondered if the roles were reversed, and it was you who screwed up if Newt would have protected you in the same way. You tried to push the feelings away. It wasn’t fair to think about such things.

“Why are you protecting her? Just tell the truth and then you can stay,” you beg.

Newt shrank under your gaze, sensing your disappointment. You knew it wasn’t worth it. Newt had set his mind, it was too late to turn back now. It wasn't like you wanted Leta to be expelled either. It was far more complex than that. Still, you wished that upon you asking, Newt would have pleaded his case so that he could stay with you. But you weren’t the princess in a fairytale, and Newt was not your prince.  

You sigh and unwrap your scarf from around your neck, catching his attention. He watched you as you walked up to him and stand on the tips of your toes to drape the scarf over his neck.

“Why do you always forget to wear a scarf?” You sniff. “It’s bloody freezing out here.”

Newt’s hand reaches up to cup your cheek, making you freeze. You hadn't even realized you were crying until he swiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

“I’m sorry...” He crooned.

You felt like your heart would jump out of your chest it was beating so hard. All of your emotions swelled inside of you, and there was so much you wanted to say, so much you wanted to confess.

“Newt I—”

“Time’s up, Mister Scamander. Say your goodbyes,” Headmaster Dippet warned.

You nervously licked your lips, your eyes frantically scanning his features. “Write to me,” you demand more than ask. “Whenever you can— it doesn't matter if it’s short, or even if it’s one sentence— just promise you will write to me.”

Newt’s mouth falls open but no words come out. He tries to formulate the words he wants to say, but they all collect in the back of his throat.

Headmaster Dippet calls for Newt with a sense of urgency. “Mister Scamander!”

“Promise me,” you urge once more with pleading eyes.

Newt swallows everything he wanted to say and closes his mouth, his shoulders dropping in defeat. “I promise.”

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to ease the tightness in your chest. Your heartstrings loosened with the promise of hope. You give him a tight smile and let go of the scarf around his neck. He steps back, walking back to Headmaster Dippet. You watch him as he walks away in the snow, until he eventually disappeared from sight, leaving you alone in the courtyard.

Your hot tears fell down your cold cheeks, and you frenetically wiped them off with your hands, taking deep breaths to keep yourself from losing your composure. You turned around and walked back into the castle, your mind void of any other thought but one.

He never said goodbye.

•••      

It was late. You couldn’t sleep after everything despite having exhausted yourself crying the length of the afternoon. You were in the common room, sitting in front of the fireplace and wallowing in your own self-pity. Feeling restless, you left to get some fresh air. You headed to the great lake, thinking it would be a good place to clear your head. It appeared that you weren't the only one who believed that because once you made it to the lake’s shore you noticed Leta already there, sitting on a log. You saw fit to sit next to her, deciding that neither of you should be alone tonight. You didn’t feel like saying anything, it was just important to be with her. It was almost comforting knowing that someone else was feeling just as miserable as you were. It went on for a while, the two of you sitting in silence and staring distantly at the lake. It only changed when Leta finally turned to acknowledge your presence.

“It’s my fault you know?” She tells you. “It was me who hexed the jarvey, not Newt. And I let him take the blame. Now he’s gone.”

“I know.”

“Do you hate me?”

You took a moment to think, not fully knowing the answer yourself. There was a moment when you did. For a moment you blamed her. You thought she was selfish. You thought she’d betrayed Newt. You thought you couldn't forgive her. 

“No,” you say, finally. “I don’t hate you.”

“Why not?”

You took a breath. “Because I know Newt, and I know you. I know why he did what he did, and I know that he cared enough to help you. Newt will be okay, and because of this, so will you.”

“I was scared,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I couldn't go back there.”

You stared at her in surprise. It was the first time you had ever seen her cry. Leta was never an emotional person. Seeing her so vulnerable— and to you of all people— meant that she was sincere. You didn’t know the whole story; and you weren’t sure you ever would, but you knew that she was hurting just as much as you, if not more. 

You took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, causing her to look at you with watery eyes.

“You’re my friend,” you tell her. “I know that us being friends was circumstantial. You’ve always been more of Newt’s friend than mine. But I do care about you. We have to stick together now. Stronger than before.”

You held up your pinky finger for her to take. She looked at it curiously, before lifting her own to wrap around yours to lock in the promise. 

“It’s just us now,” you smile softly. “We’re going to be okay.”

She nodded, smiling through her tears. “We’re going to be okay,” she repeats.

──── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ────                    

You were sleeping rather soundly in your comfortable bed. Your snores nearly muffled the sound of your telephone. It rang several times before you jolted awake. Momentarily startled and confused, you fumble to silence its incessant ringing. 

“Hello?” You answered groggily, still weighed down by sleep.

“Are you seriously still sleeping?”

You frown upon hearing the voice on the other end of the phone.

“Theseus has anyone ever told you not to wake a werewolf? If you’re looking for ways to get on my bad side, this is it.”

He laughs, not realizing you were only half-joking.

“Well I’d rather be on your bad side than Leta’s,” he teases. “She’s in a crisis and I can’t seem to be of any help. Would you mind coming over?”

You turn to the clock that sat on your nightstand next to the telephone. It was noon. You sigh, having decided you had slept enough of your day away.

“Alright. I’ll be over soon,” you tell him.

“Perfect!” You could practically hear the smile in his voice. “Oh, and bring the wedding planner, I think you’ll need it.”

“Okay. And Theseus?” You stopped him before he could hang up.

“Yes?”

“Don’t ever wake me up again.”

“I’ll try not to.”

You hang up the phone and silently question whether or not being a Maid of Honor was truly an honor at all. You hop out of bed and stumble to your bathroom to get ready for the afternoon. After washing up, you made yourself a simple breakfast of scones with strawberry jam and tea before rushing out the door. You walk out of your quaint townhouse and to your automobile. You drove yourself to Leta and Theseus’s apartment, which wasn’t too far. Leta was halfway out the door when you pulled up.

“Are we going somewhere?” You ask from your automobile.

She opens the passenger door and slides inside. “Did you bring the wedding planner?” She asks.

You nod your head to the back seat. “It’s in the bag. Now, what’s the crisis?”

“Drive to Ollie’s and I’ll tell you on the way,” she says.

You start the machine again and pull off to Ollie’s Café. On the drive, she told you about her ordeal. At first, you thought Leta was overreacting, as she does tend to stress herself out over the wedding, but once she explained that the venue she and Theseus had picked out was bought by another couple for the same day and that she needed help to find a new one, you agreed that it was indeed a crisis. Now you were sitting in a local café trying to find alternatives.

“And Theseus didn’t like the chapel in Rye?” You ask as you look at the photo of a charming chapel in the countryside.

“Theseus is no help at all,” Leta complains with a mouth full of scones. “He said  that he didn’t care where we got married and that all that matters is us being together.”

You roll your eyes and turn another page of the planner. “Men are stupid,” you mumble. Leta hums in agreement.

"Why don't you take the estate in Tinworth?” You suggest.

“Tinworth?”

You push the wedding planner towards Leta and point to a humble cottage that bordered the coast.

“It’s nice, simple but still gorgeous, and it’s by the water. By June next year, the water will be bright blue. Hopefully, it’s sunny, and the garden will have bloomed just like that.” You pointed to a cutout photo of the estate’s garden.

Leta nodded as she looked at the pictures. “I did quite like this one,” she mused. “We only chose the estate in Ilkley because it’s where we were honeymooning.”

You smiled and closed the planner. “It’s far from Ilkley, but I think it’s a good pick.”

“You’re right,” she decides. “I’ll phone tomorrow morning and see if we can book it.”

“Good!”

Leta sighs. “I’m sorry if I am overbearing. The wedding is a year away and I’m already acting like some kind of bride monster. I just want everything to be perfect.”

“It will be,” you assure her. “You’ll be the most beautiful bride and have the most beautiful ceremony. I’ll make sure of it.”

Leta smiled, making you grin in return. Once you and Leta finished having lunch and you drove her back to her apartment. You parked and walked her to the door. She opened it and turned back to you on the stoop.

“Would you like to come in for a bit?” She asked.

“No,” you say reluctantly. “I can’t. I have to go into the store today.”

Leta nodded, understanding but noticeably disappointed.

“Alright, well, will we see you at dinner tonight?” She asked.

“Yes, I’ll come early to help cook,” you promise. “How’s eight sound?”

“Perfect, I’ll tell Theseus.”

You waved goodbye as she closed the door. You made your way back to your automobile and drove to your store, (y/n)’s Potions and Emporium. It wasn’t exceptionally extravagant, but it was a cute, homely store on a street corner in Diagon Alley. It was rather successful, mainly because of you. You wouldn't say you were famous, but you did make a name for yourself in the wizarding world. You were a known experimentalist, a creator of unique and original potions, your most famous being the Wolfsbane Potion. That’s how you were able to live so well.

After you graduated Hogwarts you needed money. The first thing you did was sell your parents' house. Your parents hadn’t spoken to you in years. The only reminder you had of even having parents in the first place were the anonymous Christmas and birthday cards they’d send.

You used the money you made from selling the house to travel on your own. You studied abroad amongst many different wizarding cultures, mainly indigenous tribes that practice ‘primitive’ magic. You used your studies to help you create better, useful, potions. It took you nearly six years to conclude your findings. When you returned to England, you moved in with Leta who had more than enough room in her flat. 

You worked in the ministry for about two years as a secretary in the Department of International Magical Cooperation until you saved enough money to buy a lease on the store. You opened your store shortly after and became an instant success. Your face was on the front page of the news on the day of your grand opening. Your potions were known to be the best of the best, of high quality and reasonable price. You weren't expecting to receive such high praise, but considering your potions have helped all sorts of magical beings, especially werewolves, you became a sort of activist. 

Now you live well off on your own, having moved out of Leta’s flat three years ago once she started getting serious with Theseus. You rarely have to go into your shop these days. You often leave it under the management of your apprentice, Symin Wheatleigh, a young man you took under your guidance a year ago. Today, however, you needed your office. You were working on your own book of potions to publish by the end of next year. 

You drove into town and parked your car in an alley a block away from The Leaky Cauldron. You walked to the pub, sparing a few hellos to the people inside upon entering as you walked to the back alley entrance of Diagon Alley. It wasn’t a terribly long walk to your store, although you did get mildly distracted window shopping along the way. When you finally made it, you could tell it was pretty busy inside through the various people that wandered past the windows. The bell of the store door jingled when you stepped inside, catching the attention of Neera, one of the employees you hired to help Symin around the store. She was just finished handling a customer when you walked up to her. 

“Hello Ms. (l/n), I didn’t realize you would be coming in today,” she said from behind the counter. 

You gave her a warm smile as you walked up to her. “I wasn't going to but I felt like doing some work today. Is Symin here?”

“Yes, he’s outback getting the new shipment of wyvern tear and rotting buxus,” she informs you. 

“Did the angel ichor not come yet?”

“It did!” She pointed to a shelf behind you that was stocked full of bottles filled with glimmering white liquid. “It came early this morning,” she tells you. “I stocked the shelves and put the rest in storage. Symin did leave a crate for you outside your office in case you needed it.”

“Fantastic! I did need more bottles. Thank you, Neera.”

“It’s no trouble, Miss!”

You left the counter and headed towards the stairs. You walked up to the second floor, making your way to your office. There was indeed a crate of angel ichor waiting by your door. You unlocked and opened the door to your office with a flick of the hand. When you went inside the lights flickered on, revealing a messy room with shelves full of potions, books, and miscellaneous items that covered the walls. In the center was a long island counter with all of your alchemy tools and assortments. 

You went to the island, the crate of angel ichor floated behind you and landed on the counter. You began to place the bottles in a cabinet when you heard tapping at the window. You turn to your right to see your owl waiting for you on its perch outside. You went over to open it, allowing the creature to flap inside. The creature flew past you, dropping a newspaper on the comfy blue chair by the window, and flying to her hanging cage. 

“Hello Poppet,” you coo at the beautiful bird. “What have you got for me today?”

She squawked in response as you picked up the paper. You unravel the string and open it, revealing the front page. The last thing you expected was to see his face. In big bolded letters the main story of today’s The Daily Prophet was titled “Grindelwald Meets Justice!: Local Wizard Newton Scamander and Magical Beast Help Capture and Detain Infamous Dark Wizard in New York”.

There he was, timidly standing next to the president of MACUSA and a dark-haired auror. He had changed a lot since you last saw him all those years ago. His once full cheeks hollowed into strong cheekbones and an angled jaw. It was hard to tell through the photo but he looked taller, his lanky body towering over those next to him, despite his slight hunch. His hair still curled in his face over his bright eyes. He was so different, yet still very much the same in many ways.  Your hand went to trace his figure on the paper.

You snapped out of your daze when you heard a knock at your door. The door opened to reveal Symin holding two crates of ingredients. 

“(y/n), I brought you some crates from the shipment today.” He placed the crates on the floor by the door. He turned to you with a smile, but it faded once he got a good look at you.

“Hey, are you okay? You’re crying.”

You lifted your hand to the side of your face feeling the wetness from the tears you hadn’t realized you’d been shedding. You wiped the tears from your cheek and blinked the rest from your eyes. You forced a smile and tittered as you folded the paper. 

“Yes, I’m alright. The wind from the window made my eyes water. Thank you, for the crates.”

“Okay,” he conceded. “Well, I’ll be in the potions room making more Calidumet Frigus for the shelves if you need me.”

“Alright, thanks.”

Symin nodded, deciding it was best not to pry, and left you alone in your office. 

•••      

You were late. You had been so lost in your work that you lost track of time. You agreed to help Symin close the shop and by the time you finished, it was nearly eight. You rushed as fast as you could to your car, making one quick stop before driving to Leta and Thesus’s house. Upon arrival, you walk up the stairs and knock on the door. When no one answered the door you snuck a peek through the window to see no one in the living room and no sign that anyone was inside at all. You wondered if something had come up. You didn't wonder long when Leta suddenly opened the door, catching you by surprise.

“You’re late.”

“I’m late, but I come bearing gifts.” You held up a bottle of your favorite wine and handed it to her.

“Oozie Woozie’s Wilderberry Wine? Is it one of those nights?” She asked with a knowing smirk.

“It’s one of those nights,” you confirmed. 

Leta stepped aside, allowing you to step inside. She closed the door behind you as you took off your coat and hung it in the closet. 

“Theseus isn’t here,” Leta told you as she walked to the kitchen. “Something came up at the Ministry and he was called in late. He shouldn't be long, but he said to just go on without him.”

You stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame as you watched Leta open the bottle. “Does it have something to do with Grindelwald’s capture in New York?” You guessed. 

She seemed mildly surprised by the question, momentarily stopping her actions to process what you said. “You know about that?” 

“How could I not? It’s all over the paper.” You moved from the doorway to stand next to Leta as she took two glasses from the cabinet and put them on the counter. 

“I know.” She poured the wine into the glasses. “I just hoped you hadn’t read it today.”

You picked up your glass with your dominant hand, taking a long sip and ah-ing in relief. Leta watched you grab the bottle and pour yourself another drink, worry flickering behind her eyes. 

“It’s okay if you miss him,” she says. “We all do.”

You knit your brows together and shake your head dismissively while simultaneously finishing your drink. “I don’t miss him. I’ve hardly even thought about him all these years!”

You grab the neck of the bottle with your other hand and walk to the living room. Leta trailed behind you, taking a seat next to you on the sofa. You pour another drink before placing the bottle on the coffee table. 

“How long has it been Leta? Twelve— Fourteen years since I last saw him? Fourteen years and not one word. Not one letter since we were kids. Pfft! Miss him? How can I miss someone who clearly doesn't miss me?”

You took another long sip of your glass, finishing it quickly. You reached for the bottle once more but it was taken from your grasp. Leta pushed the bottle away from you and you whined in response. 

“Leave some for me will you?” She teased. 

You sighed and leaned back on the sofa, a distasteful scowl plastered on your face.

“You know what? I shouldn’t have said anything.” Leta placed her glass down on the coffee table and leaned back as well, propping her elbow on the back of the sofa and resting her head on her fist as she looked at you. 

“Forget everything I said in the last five minutes. Why don’t I put on some music and we can start making dinner?” She suggests. “We can make the pasta and I can tell you about how I ran into none other than Olivia Abbott herself earlier today.”

You turn your head to face her. Her contagious smile bringing out your own and you nodded in agreement. She grinned and stood up from the sofa, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the kitchen.

•••      

Theseus had returned from a particularly trying shift at work. It was bad enough that he was troubled with Gellert Grindelwald's case, but now that Newt was involved he was stressed beyond relief. He’d spent the last five hours petitioning for Newt’s amnesty. Despite aiding in the capture of Grindelwald, Newt still committed serious offenses against both the MACUSA and the Ministry of Magic. One would think that restraining and detaining an infamous dark wizard would be enough to pardon his infractions, but one would be wrong. Luckily Theseus has the favor of the Minister of Magic as well as other high ranking officials. He used his status and reputation to sway the Ministry from sending Newt to Azkaban. He was able to convince the Wizengamot to settle for parole with a semi-permanent travel ban. 

He was looking forward to coming home, seeing his fiancée, and going to bed. His hopes were delayed when he walked up the steps to his home and heard loud music and laughter emitting from within. He reluctantly went inside, hanging his hat and his jacket on a hook. 

“Theseus, dear, is that you?” Leta called from the other room.

“Yes,” Theseus replied. 

He followed the music and girlish giggles from the hall and to the living room where he found you and Leta drunkenly dancing to swing tunes. The two of you danced around the room in each other's arms, completely off tempo with the music. Somewhere between making dinner and actually having dinner, the bottle of Oozie Woozie’s Wilderberry Wine had been completely emptied. Granted it was you who had drunk the greater half of it, but Ozzie Wozzie’s Vineyard and Distillery was renown amongst wizards for their wine’s refreshing sweet taste and dream-like side effects, and Leta was no less affected than you. 

The two of you were quite the drunken pair, and the sight alone was enough to bring a smile to his tired face. You were holding each other clumsily as you danced which in turn caused you to trip over Leta’s feet and stumble to the floor, pulling her down with you. You had fallen on top of her rather hard, but you cackled nonetheless. The impact of the fall didn't seem to phase either of you. The snorting laughs you both sounded assured Theseus of that. He chortled at the scene, finally gaining your attentions.

“Oh, hello Theseus. Enjoyin’ the show?” You slur suggestively.

Leta lifted her head back to smile up at her fiancée standing upside down in her view. “How was everything at the Ministry? Is everything alright?” She asked. 

“Everything's fine,” he said. “I’ll tell you more about it in the morning.”

Leta moved to push you off her and sat upright. She ignored the instant head rush and shuffled over to Theseus in the archway. 

She placed her hand on his cheek and examined his face. “You look tired, are you sure you're alright?” She pouts.

He nodded and placed his hand over hers, rubbing it softly. “I’m sure.”

He then leaned down to capture her lips in an innocent kiss, which quickly became more salacious than you had liked. You scrunched your face in disgust at the sickeningly sweet couple.

“And that’s my hint to leave.” You push your self off the floor with a heavy sigh.

The two pull apart to focus their attention on you struggling to put on your heels.  

“No, you don't have to go, (y/n). Stay a while longer, at least until you sober up.”

“How sweet of you Theseus, but I’m fine, truly. I’m full of wine and pasta, my body’s all tingly, and I got a whole day tomorrow to sleep in. I’d like to get started on it now.”

Theseus knew there was no point in arguing with you. You were hard enough to persuade sober, it was nearly impossible to do when you weren't. 

“Alright,” he yielded. “If you insist, but you’re not taking your car. Use the Floo powder.”

“Okay, Okay. Geez!” You turn to Leta in his arms. “Can you please make this man a father so he can stop pretending he’s mine?”

The comment made her giggle, but it seemed to cause a faint red tint to appear on Theseus’s cheeks. 

“It would be irresponsible of me to allow you on the streets like this,” he explains. “If I’m being honest, I’m more concerned for the muggles’ safety than yours.”

You snort and playfully roll your eyes. “Whatever you say, old man.”

You walk to the fireplace mantle and open a ceramic jar filled with the green powder, taking a handful for yourself, and stepped inside the enlarged fireplace. You turn around to face them. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe.”

They waved goodbye as you voiced your destination and threw the powder down into the fire, green flames enveloping your body and vanishing you away. You arrived in your own fireplace in a matter of seconds. Leftover ash from previous fires blew into the air and into your lungs on impact, making you cough and sputter.

You stepped from the fireplace and into your living room. You stumbled to a lamp placed on the side table of your chair. You pulled the string down, allowing a dim warm light to fill the room. You sat down on your comfy armchair, not caring if you got soot on its cushions, and let out a deep sigh. You reached into your pocket and pulled out a small folded paper. You unfolded it, straightening the creases to reveal a cut-out picture of Newt from today’s paper. You stared at it long and hard, stirring the emotions you tried to forget with Oozie Woozie’s Wilderberry Wine. You felt a tear fall down your cheek, but you didn't care to wipe it away. You were alone now, and you could feel however you wanted to feel without having to pretend. 

You were hurt. Newt had hurt you more than anyone else in your life. His hurt stayed inside you. It manifested and resonated in your heart. It was a hurt that stayed for fourteen years, but it still felt new and fresh. Still, you looked at the moving photograph and couldn't help but smile, reminiscing both the good times and bad times you shared during your years at Hogwarts. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the tiniest jingle of a bell and the feeling of something soft wining between your legs. You look down to see the scraggly orange fur of a cat you had taken in. It was an odd little thing. Part of its left ear had been chewed off by something, and it had one sharp fang that stuck out over its upper lip. It had a mushed-in face that only a mother could love, and its left eye was missing, permanently scarred closed. It was rather skinny when you first encountered it. At first, you had paid it no mind. There were many animals that feared your presence, having the ability to sense what you were. Cats were among them, often fleeing the moment you came within a six-foot radius. However, this cat didn’t flee. 

Surprisingly, it followed you several blocks to your house. It was so unusual for a cat to act this way towards you that you were convinced it was an animagus. It wasn't abnormal for an estranged witch or wizard gifted with the abilities to turn themselves into an animal to trick unsuspecting muggles or wizards into letting them inside their home. You, on the other hand, couldn't be so easily fooled. One of the burdens of being a werewolf is having limited options for the furry companions you keep. So, when the raggedy cat came to you on your doorstep, you ambushed it with a spell in hopes to reveal a preying animagus, only to be left with nothing but an ordinary tabby cat. It purred and mewled for you, winding its body between your legs affectionately. 

You let the cat stay on your stoop that night, providing it with bowls of food and a warm make-shift bed. You half expected the cat to be gone by the time you woke up, but it had stayed, somehow making its way to your open bedroom window and climbing into your bed at the dead of night. It was a curious little creature, but it soon won your heart, and you took it in as your own. That was over a year ago. Now the cat, whom you had named Ares, was your beloved fat, lazy house cat. 

Ares jumped into your lap and stretched his neck to nuzzle under your chin. You lifted your hand to pet his orange fur. The prudent creature licked the tears from your cheek, it’s scratchy tongue tickling your skin and making you laugh. 

“Come here ugly kitty,” you smile, lifting the cat up to kiss it on its nose. You stand from the chair and carry him to the bedroom. You kick your shoes off by the bed and place him on a pillow. You pull back the plush white covers and slip into bed. Ares happily curls under your arm and purrs himself to sleep, taking you along with him.  

•••      

New years came as soon as it went, sending you full-throttle into a time on the brink of war. Tensions were high. Grindelwald's capture created stirrings throughout the magical world. Everyone could sense the ominous darkness closing in, even you. Other than that, things went on as usual. Well, as usual as things could since Newt’s return to London. 

It was early March, just over two months since he came back and you haven't seen him. You had been purposely avoiding him, and as luck would have it, he was avoiding you too; and Leta, and Theseus. He was avoiding pretty much everyone he could, barely even leaving his house unless absolutely necessary. You doubt anyone would see him unless they were looking for him, which Theseus and Leta often did. They’d invite him to dinner and he’d never show, which was fine with you because you enjoyed dinner quite well without awkward reunions. From what Theseus and Leta tell you, Newt is just as incorrigible as ever. He’s been working on his book of magical creatures the last few years, and from what they know he delivered his manuscript and is awaiting publishment. 

Not that you cared, of course. 

Today you were working in the store, having come up with a new formula in your sleep. You didn’t know what it would make, you just hoped it didn't blow up. As you were experimenting in your office, there was a knock on your door. With your permission, Symin entered the room. 

“Is everything okay downstairs?” You asked while crushing mermaid scales in a small mortar. 

“Yes,” he replied. “Just delivering a letter for you.”

“What?” You raise a brow and take the letter from his hand. 

“Some man came by and gave this to Neera before she clocked off. It was odd. He looked a bit shady if you ask me.”

“How so?” 

Symin shrugged his shoulders and pursed his lips in thought. “Well, for one thing, he was acting shifty. Looking around the store like he was afraid of being caught. Almost like he wasn’t supposed to be here.” 

You examined the letter, it was a folded piece of parchment with your name on it, tied by a blue ribbon. 

“W-What did he look like?” 

“Well, I didn’t get a good look at him, I barely saw his face with his collar turned up. He was tall, had brown hair— or maybe it was red? Anyway, he left as soon as he gave it to her— didn't even buy anything! Why? Do you know him?”

You took a seat on a stool and nodded. “Thank you... I-I’ll be down soon to help you stock the shelves.”

After he left, you pulled the string of the ribbon, letting it fall in your lap. You opened the letter and read it. 

 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━    

                                         ‘ Dear (y/n).

                                                I wanted to invite you to my launch party for my new book. It will be on March 19th at Flourish and Blotts. I do hope you can make it. 

                                                - Newt Scamander.’                                                                                                         

 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Newt Scamander. 

“Unbelievable,” you scoff, crumbling the parchment in your hands and tossing it in a bin. 

You didn't know a simple letter could make you so angry. Probably because it was just a simple letter. The first words Newt had said to you in fourteen years were written on a piece of parchment, and they didn't include the words “I’m sorry”. There wasn't even a semblance of remorse. 

“It was as if nothing had occurred between us at all! Like we’ve been friends all this time. It’s absolutely infuriating!” You complain to Leta later that same day. 

You had gone marching to her doorstep the second you closed the shop. You were practically fuming when she opened the door. You didn't even say hello, immediately pushing your way into the house and going into a rant. Poor Leta barely got a word in until you finally got everything off your chest. 

“Then you should tell him that!” She challenged, taking a moment to speak while you sip on your glass. “You suffered the most from his alienation out of all of us. Go to the party and tell him how you feel.”

You shook your head as you stared at the drink in your glass. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not going. It’s the day after the full moon, you know what those are like for me.”

Leta rolled her eyes, lifting her hand to pinch your ear. 

“Ow!” You swat her hand away shoot her a glare. “What was that for?”

“I’m sorry, have we not been friends for nearly ten years?” She asked rhetorically. “I’ve seen you bounce back from a transformation when you really wanted to. The night before we had the O.W.L.s was a full moon, but you made it through then. Or what about when you cleaned yourself up for your seminar at the Alchemist Annual Assembly? It was after a full moon too.”

You didn’t try to defend yourself, there was nothing to defend. She was right.

“Theseus and I practically invited ourselves to the party, but Newt invited you. He clearly wants you there. If you don’t want to go, then fine, don’t. But don’t make excuses.”

It was hard to be hysterical with Leta. She always knew how to think about the other side of the story, mostly because she knew what it felt like to be on the other side. Had it been Davina or Priscilla you were venting to, it would have been a very different conversation. That being said, you were still disinterested in attending the party. It seemed too queer, almost alien-like to present yourself to him after all these years. There was no telling how you would react, with the effects of the full moon, your emotions would be more heightened than they already were.

You tried to forget about it over the next few days, though it was hard considering Newt was the media’s main focus of attention. There wasn't a witch or wizard who didn’t know his name. It only frustrated you more.  

Sitting in your living room on a dreary evening you had nothing better to do than to read. You had your record playing and a window open so you could hear the rain. Ares was sleeping in his bed by the fire, his heavy purrs sounding every once in a while. 

You were pulled from your reading when there was a knock at your door. You look at the clock that rested on your mantle. Its long spindly hand was pointed between the roman numerals for seven and eight, and its shorter hand pointed at the numeral for six. You stood from your spot in the comfortable chair and closed your book, and removed your circular reading glasses from your face, placing them both on the side table.

“Just a minute!” You called out to the visitor on the other side of the door. 

You shuffled to the front door and unlocked it, pulling back the chain and twisting the lock before opening it.

You expected to come face to face with Leta or Theseus given that they were the only ones who visited you. Instead, you were faced with nothing but your empty stoop and the London streets. You tut your tongue in annoyance, thinking it was the neighborhood kids pulling a harmless prank. You step out from your house in hopes to catch a glimpse of the culprits when your foot accidentally stepped on something.  

You quickly retract your foot and look down to see a bouquet of flowers wrapped in frilly white lace and pink tissue paper laying on your doormat. You bend down to pick up the bundle of flowers and examine them closely. Your chest tightened once you saw them. In the center of a beautifully coordinated bed of flowers were three large lupines encircled by a ring of wolfsbane. It didn’t take a genius to know who had sent them.  

Carefully tucked between the tissue paper and the sheer teal ribbon that bound the stems together was a small card that had the word ‘sorry’written in golden calligraphy. You pull the horizontally folded card from its place and open it, revealing Newt’s characteristic handwriting. 

  ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

   Please come to the launch party so that I can say it to you in person.

  ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You snort at the letter, a small smirk pulling at your lips. You looked out into the rainy streets once more. A part of you thought you’d see Newt’s freckled face appear from a corner in front of you and a flicker of hope burned through your body. It was quickly extinguished when you saw nothing but pedestrians rushing to escape the rain and passing automobiles. 

You hug the bouquet close to your chest and stepped back into the house, kicking the door closed. Little did you know, Newt was nearby watching you longingly. He hid by the side of the house, waiting for you to open the door and see the present he’d left you. When you opened the door and revealed yourself he was mesmerized. He hadn’t seen you in so long, he half-expected to see the sixteen-year-old girl he left that day in the courtyard. But you were not a girl anymore. You were a woman, in every sense of the word. 

Even so, you were still unmistakably you. Your cheeks had slimmed, revealing your cheekbones and jawline. Your once long hair had been cut just above your shoulder in full (h/c) waves to adhere to the trend of the decade. Despite the changes, there were many things that were familiar. Out of it all, he most appreciated how your eyes were still doe-like; he noted how they still seemed to capture the entire world in them. 

It took all of him not to go up to you, right then and there. He wanted to see you up close, to look you in the eyes and hear your voice. He stayed in his spot, his legs locked in place. He wasn’t brave enough to face you, in fear of your anger and rejection. But when he saw the curl of your lips when you read his note, he wished he had. 

•••      

You paced back and forth in front of your open wardrobe. Ares lay in the center of your bed, comfortably in your bundle of sheets. You chewed on your bottom lip in thought. Tonight was the night of Newt’s launch party. You had no intention of even entertaining the thought of going, but that all changed last week when those bundles of flowers arrived at your doorstep. For the first time in a long time, you felt a warm flutter in your chest. Now you were battling your heart with your logic. You groaned and frustratedly run your fingers through your hair. 

“Why am I even thinking about this!” You blurted. You turn to the fat cat lying on your bed. “What do you think Ares?”

The lazy cat mewed in response, flicking its tail back and forth. You purse your lips and nod, seemingly understanding your feline companion.

“You’re right,” you decided. “I’ll go! I deserve an apology it’s the least he could do. And I ought to tell him off for everything he put me through! That way I’ll have some closure.”

(Leta was somewhere cursing you for crediting this revelation to a cat when she had been saying the exact same thing for the past several weeks.)

You began rummaging through your wardrobe in search for a dress. You went through many outfits, trying them on before changing your mind and discarding them on the floor. You shifted through your hangers once more when your eyes landed on a white evening dress. You grabbed it by the hanger and held it in front of you in the mirror. 

It was a sensual, yet modest gown. It was made of pearl-colored silk with a plunging neckline that stopped at the middle of your torso in a sharp point. Over the silk slip was a beaded sheer wrap with a jeweled brooch at its center. You’d forgotten about having the dress. You had bought it a year ago with Leta for a date with a friend of Theseus’ that they had tried to set you up with, but you chickened out last minute and never had the occasion to wear it again. Since then it had been stowed away in the back of your wardrobe. 

You smiled, satisfied with your selection. You turn around to face your cat. “This is it! This is the one,” you tell him. Ares mewed again, making you frown.

“I am not doing this to impress him,” you bleat. “It’s a party, I have to dress up a little bit...”

Ares pointed eyes pierced your pride and you roll your eyes, clumsily gathering the dress in your hands. 

“Oh, what do you know? You’re just a cat,” you grumble haughtily. You mutter to yourself as you place the dress on the bed and head towards the bathroom to take a much-needed shower.

•••            

“Over here, Mister Scamander!” “Mister Scamander, can you please sign my book?” “Tell us about your time in New York Mister Scamander!”

Flashing cameras and desperate journalists crowded the store in front of Newt. With him was Leta, Theseus, and his apprentice Bunty. He had spent most of the day signing books and answering the press, but he couldn't focus. Between answering questions and signing copies his eyes would gravitate to the front doors of the shop, hoping to find you there waiting for him. Instead, he was met with disappointment. It became increasingly obvious that you weren't going to show up as time passed, but he couldn’t help the glimmer of hope he felt whenever he heard the bells of the shop ring. 

Leta and Theseus did their best to keep his spirits high, which he dully appreciated, but the truth was that nothing would settle his mind until he saw you. When the book signing was over, the real celebration began. It was a ball of sorts, but much less prestigious and no one was required to dance. But live music played, and he was required to wear his slim black dress robes, so it may as well have been a ball. Hundreds of people Newt didn't know gathered to celebrate and honor him. It frankly made him uncomfortable being the subject of praise, especially so openly. The only reason he agreed to attend the party was because a sliver of hope still left in him that hadn’t died from the disappointment of the signing still believed you would show up.

The grand hall the party was held in was almost completely made of marble; from the floors to the columns that held up the archways and upper levels. The only thing that wasn't marble was the dome ceiling which was made of glass to reveal the night sky. It was all very aristocratic. Famous and wealthy witches and wizards gathered under the hall’s pristine roof to celebrate Newt for his accomplishments. As much as he had wished it was for his work, he knew that they couldn’t care less about it. The real fascination with him lies in his hand in capturing Gellert Grindelwald in New York a few months ago. Everyone was so curious and so amazed that someone so meek and feeble as Newt Scamander could have done such a heroic and amazing thing; such acts are usually associated with his brother. 

It bored him immensely. As he stood off to the side of the room, both Leta and Theseus glued to his side as a small group of witches and wizards prodded him with questions most of which Theseus answered, he wanted nothing more than to escape back to his flat and tend to his creatures. His creatures were always much better company than humans. Well, they were much better company than most humans. The only human he felt was an outlier to his beliefs, was you. 

There was a tug in his heart when you came to mind again. Gods, how he wished you were there. You would probably find some way to make the otherwise boring gathering somewhat interesting. He knew you would probably make a remark about one of the older ladies’ hats that seemed to engulf their fat heads. Or how you would make a joke about how fake everyone seemed to be: pretending to care about magical creatures when in reality they only want the latest gossip. The thought of you by his side whispering jokes and quips to make him laugh mad a small smile twitch on his lips. 

He was pulled from such daydreams by Leta tugging on his arm. Newt looked down at her, slightly dazed. 

“Are you alright Newt?” She asked in a whisper. 

Newt gave her a smile to assure her and nodded. “Just a bit thirsty, I think,” he told her. 

Leta’s mouth formed an O shape and she nodded, telling him that she saw a punch table somewhere earlier. Newt wasn’t paying attention to Leta’s ramblings as she scoured the floor for the supposed punch bowl. His attention was drawn to the ceiling, noticing the glass had become streaked with rain, making the night sky turn wavy and dreamlike. Leta took in a sharp breath, drawing back his attention. He looked down at her to see her staring off into the crowd.

“(y/n)!” She grinned brightly. 

The mention of your name made electricity shock through his body, causing the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and his heart to thump rapidly in his chest. He followed Leta’s trained eyes into the crowd of well-dressed people, scanning the floor until he saw your face. It wasn’t long until he saw you across the hall, entering the room. You were breathtaking. 

You walked in elegantly. You came inside, covered in a celeste colored velvet and fur coat. The man in charge of the door offered to take your coat, to which you obliged, shrugging the heavy garment off to reveal your dress underneath. He was practically stunned at the sight of you. Your dress was beautiful. The pearl white complimented— if not enhanced— the color of your skin. It hugged your form nicely, showing all of your feminine curves. The beads of your dress caught the light of the room, making you sparkle with your every move. Your hair had been styled into long finger waves that cascaded around your face and shoulders.

You hadn’t noticed him yet, to which he was thankful. He didn’t want you to notice him just yet. He wanted to look at you longer, to take in everything about you properly for the first time in fourteen years. You wandered through the crowd, clearly searching for him. A few people had stopped you in your search, most likely to compliment you, which caused you to smile brightly at them. He missed seeing you smile like that. You had one of those smiles that made other people smile with you. Without realizing, Newt was smiling himself. 

You continued around the room, carrying yourself in a way Newt could only associate with a Veela: elegant, hypnotic and tantalizing. But to him, you were ten thousand times as beautiful. 

You didn’t know what you were doing. Your mind was running a million thoughts a minute, each one full of anxiety and doubt. The process of getting ready to attend the party was very different than actually gathering the will to go. Multiple scenarios played in your head, all of which you ended with you being hurt. The baggage you carried over the years was enough to make anyone angry. The problem with your anger towards Newt was that you weren’t angry at all. You wanted to be furious. You wanted to curse him and make him regret ever leaving. But you knew your feelings for Newt weren’t that simple. 

The fact of the matter was that you were in love with him, and you have been since you were first-years running amok in the halls of Hogwarts Castle. There was no amount of wrongdoings that would make you fall out of love with him. The main reason for your hesitation in even seeing Newt again was because you knew just how easily you would forgive him, as long as it meant that he would be in your life again. And you had to be stronger than that. 

However, your fears came to light when your eyes met. Like a doe caught in headlights, you froze in front of him. Everything was so surreal, you felt like you were in a dream. For years you thought about seeing him again, and suddenly there he was, in all his glory. No photograph could prepare you for what it was like seeing him again in the flesh. He was even more handsome than you remembered, taller too. His hair was still curly; the reddish color had turned browner with age, although in certain light you could still see the flecks of red. He’d grown considerably taller since you last stood face to face. Even in your heels he still looked down at you. He looked good in his dress robes. They were tailored for him, no doubt Theseus’ doing considering Newt was never one to care much about his appearance, let alone get fitted for a new a suit. You were grateful nonetheless; he looked dashing in it. 

When time seemed to move at its normal pace, the glamour seemed to fade. The intrusive thoughts of your insecurities returned, and you remember what you had originally set out to do. You had imagined striding confidently to him to prove that you were just fine without him in your life. You would watch him beg for forgiveness and dismiss it, promptly leaving him just like how he’d left you. But imagining things was much easier than doing them. 

Now everything is real and there he was, staring at you with his sad hazel eyes and suddenly you're sixteen again. Your heart pounds in your chest, and flutterbies fill your stomach. Your knees feel weak and you desire nothing more than to be held in his arms again. It was too many emotions to handle at once.

Then, he was walking towards you excitedly with Leta and Theseus by his side. Leta was the first to hug you. You snap from your trance and force a smile, returning the hug despite the nervousness that consumed you under Newt’s gaze. 

“You look so beautiful!” She turned back to the two brothers. “Doesn’t she look stunning?”

“You look amazing, (y/n)! Wonderful you could make it.” Theseus grinned as he hugged you and pressed a friendly kiss to your cheek. 

“You do,” Newt spoke up, gaining everyone’s attention. “Look beautiful...”

An awkward pause came between the four of you, causing Theseus to chuckle nervously and give an encouraging slap on the back to his younger brother. Your cheeks burned as Newts flushed a pale red.

“Yes, well, thank you,” you say more to Theseus and Leta than Newt. 

Leta looked between you and Newt fondly. She then tugged on Theseus’s sleeve and stood on her toes to whisper something in his ear. Theseus nodded before standing up straight and smiling at the both of you. 

“Well, we’ll leave you two alone to catch up while we go get some refreshments.”

Both your eyes widened, yours pleading at Leta, and Newt’s at Theseus’s. Theseus placed a hand on Newt’s shoulder and sent him a wink before wrapping an arm around Leta’s shoulder and walking off with her, leaving you alone with Newt.

Newt nervously shifted in front of you, playing with the pocket of his robe, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. You didn’t say anything, having difficulty thinking of anything to say at all. You stared at Newt as he tried to compose himself under your regard. 

“You really do look beautiful,” was all Newt was able to muster after a moment of thought. He looked at you directly in the eyes, something he liked doing because your eyes were so captivating. You became perturbed, and avoided his gaze, looking at anyone but him. When you didn’t respond, he took a confident leap to continue.

“I’m so happy you came.” 

Newt bravely stepped closer and reached for you, but you recoiled from him before he could, taking a step back yourself. Newt slowly pulled his hand back, hurt by your rejection. You became hot with embarrassment, darting your eyes around the room. 

A melodic scale chimed through the air, followed by a tearful symphony. The people around you began to pair up and dance. You turned back to Newt, who already had his hand held out for you.      

“Dance with me,” he pleads. “Please...”

You looked hesitantly between him and his outstretched hand. Your head was at war with your heart, the two battling for control. Newt’s lips curled into a grin when you slipped your hand in his, your own lips pressed into a coy smile. 

He clasped your hand and lead you to a free space in the center of the dance floor. Newt held your right hand, in his left, taking his right hand to place your free hand on his shoulder before putting it at its place above your hip. Your bodies grew close, letting the music guide you. 

“Are you alright?” He asked after a while. 

“Everyone’s looking,” you say. It was true. Wandering eyes stole glances at Newt Scamander and the mystery girl he danced with. You could almost hear their gossiping whispers. 

“How could they not?” Newt’s hand stretched to brush a stray hair from your face. “You’re the loveliest woman in the room.”

His fingers delicately grazed your skin, sending static through your body. Your eyes locked, Newt’s flickered to your lips. Suddenly, you were fifteen again, and there you were, dancing under the moon stars with Newt; just like how you’d dreamed all those years ago. You were falling all over again. Newt began closing the space between you, leaning down to your lips. You wanted to close your eyes and let him kiss you. You wanted him to hold you and let things be as they once were. But you couldn’t. You weren't ready. 

You stopped him and quickly pulled away. “I can’t do this,” you mutter. 

“W-Was it something I said?” Newt stammered.

You fight the tears that threatened to escape, blinking them away. “I’m sorry,” you swallow. “This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come.”

“(y/n)...”

“Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Scamander. It looks like a lovely party but I am just not feeling very well.”

You promptly turn around and make your way through the crowd of people, desperate to make an escape. 

“No, wait— (y/n)!” Newt called out for you, immediately chasing after you. 

You were fast, successfully distancing yourself enough from Newt to lose him. You left the hall and ran outside the building to be met with heavy rain. You stopped in your tracks, the cold of the night, and the icy pellets of rain shocking your skin. You rushed onto the cobblestone street without a care, the pressure of your emotions rapidly welling up. You rush to the center of the street where a large fountain spewed fresh water. You stop in front of the fountain, it’s flowing waters luring out your tears, creating a fountain of your own. You sob to yourself, holding your body to keep yourself from falling to your knees. 

“(y/n)!” Newt's voice called out to you. The sound of his feet splashing in the street as he rand to you drew closer, but you had grown tired of running. Your back was turned to him, but your cries could be heard over the rain. His heart ached for you, knowing that it was he who made you feel this way. 

“(y/n), please. Please, don’t be like this,” he begged. Newt placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Let go of me Newt!” You shout, yanking yourself away. “Can’t you see? I can’t stand to have you touch me!”

Newt’s heart broke at your words. When you saw the hurt in his face, you regretted being so harsh. You groan in frustration and sit on the edge of the fountain burying your face in your hands. Newt hesitantly took a seat next to you. You noticed that you couldn’t feel the rain on your skin anymore and peaked up from your hands. Newt held his wand in the air, using a spell to create an umbrella over you. 

“Will you at least take your coat?” Newt asked. “It’s pouring out here.”

He held out your coat for you to take. You hadn’t even noticed he got it for you. You took it from him and put it on, tugging it close to your body for warmth. You sat in silence, staring blankly at your reflection in the wet cobblestone. 

Newt looked at you yearningly. This wasn’t what he wanted. In a perfect world, you would be in his arms, smiling and laughing with him right now. He felt pretty foolish for thinking everything would go back to the way things were. Nothing ever came that easy. 

“Can we please go somewhere and talk? Please?” Asked Newt after a while.

You narrow your eyes and leer at him. “What about your party?” You question, your voice hoarse from crying. “Wouldn’t want to keep your admirers waiting.”

Newt shook his head dismissively. “You’re far more important.”

There was a tightness in your chest and your features softened, your cheeks heating up at his words. 

“Please, (y/n)...” Newt pressed. “Let me talk to you.”

Finally, you sigh, standing up to your feet, Newt mimicking your actions. You turn to him and stuff your hands in your pocket.

“Buy me a drink.”

•••  

You led Newt a couple of blocks away to a nearby pub called The Hopping Pot. When you entered the door hit a bell, signifying your presence. It wasn’t an especially popular pub, but it got a decent amount of customers. Today wasn’t one of those days. The pub was practically empty save for the live entertainment and the few vagrants that littered the bar. Behind the bar was a very large man cleaning a glass. He was bald, but his large, bushy, salt and pepper beard seemed to make up for it. 

You made your way straight to the bar, taking a free spot at the center. Newt took a seat next to you, visibly uncomfortable in the new environment. You shrugged your coat off and draped it over the empty stool at your side. When the bartender finished serving a clearly incapacitated man a glass of firewhisky he made his way over to you. 

You held up to fingers at the bartender. “Two daisyroots please.” 

The man nodded, leaving to fetch your drinks.

“Oh, you didn’t have to get me anything, I’m fine,” said Newt once the bartender returned with two glasses of daisyroot draught. 

“It’s not for you.” You said simply, taking the drinks. You smile up at the older man behind the counter. “Thanks, Paulie.”

“Anytime, Princess,” he winked. You began sipping on your drink while the bartender, Paulie, looked at Newt expectingly.  

“You’re paying right?” You ask, but the slight smirk on your lips hinted that it wasn’t a suggestion. 

Newt nodded, digging into his coat’s pocket for two galleons and handing them to Paulie. He took the payment, stuffing them in his pockets before turning back to you fondly. 

“Who’s the stiff?” Paulie asked, making you chuckle. 

“Someone I used to know back when we were kids,” you tell him.

Paulie nodded and crossed his strong arms over his chest raising a bushy accusatory eyebrow at Newt. 

“So you knew my princess when she was little, huh?”

Newt looked nervously between you and Paulie. “Y-Yes, I did.”

The man’s gruff expression quickly changed to one of amusement. “Was she as lovely as she is now, or is there somethin’ I should know about?”

You playfully shove the man across the counter. “Paulie!”

“I’m only teasin’ ya, love.” The man gave a hearty chuckle. You roll your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that formed on your lips. Newt found himself smiling with you, glad to finally see some joy on your features. 

“And what’s all this then?” Paulie lifted your head to examine your face. “You’re leakin’!”

Your eyes widened and you sat up to catch a glimpse at yourself in the mirror behind the shelves lined with bottles of liquor. Your makeup had been smudged from both the rain and your tears. 

“Got caught in the rain have you, love?” Paulie deduced, handing you a tissue in the process. “It’s dreadful out there, you oughtta go home. It’s the perfect time to curl up in bed with a good book.”

You nodded, thankfully taking the tissue to fix your makeup. “Now why would I do that when I could visit you, Paulie?”

“Well, I can’t argue with that logic now can I?” He chuckled.

You grinned and excused yourself to the lady's room to clean yourself up. When they were alone, Paulie turned his attention back to Newt. He leaned over the counter, his previously friendly disposition changing to a more serious one. 

“You’re Newt, right?” He asked.

“Y-Yes, I am.”

Paulie sighed. “Listen, I don’t know the whole story,” he spoke lowly. “But I’ve heard some things about you. (y/n) talks about you sometimes; usually after she has a few too many drinks in her— which ain’t often— but when she does get like that, she talks about you.”

Newt grew flustered under the man's glare. Paulie was a very intimidating man on his own. Newt kept his mouth shut and listened intently.

“She’s fond of you, I know that much. But you did something to hurt her. Am I wrong?”

Newt shook his head. “No... You’re not.”

“The only reason I ain’t hurt ya yet is ‘cause I know how much you mean to her. Whatever it is you did, you best make it up to my princess,” The man warned. “I haven’t met anyone half as decent as my (y/n) in my entire life. Whenever she’s sad, I get sad with her. Do you understand?”

Newt nodded. 

“(y/n) deserves the best in life. Sadly, the world has only dealt her the worst of it. I’m sure you know all about that. But through it all, she’s wanted nothin’ more than to see her ol’ school days friend, Newt Salamander-or-whatever, again.”

The door to the pub swung open, ringing the bell as a man strolled inside. The two men’s attention turned to a soaking wet man who had clearly seen better days. He demanded a pint of dragon scale. Paulie groaned before facing Newt again.

“Just make it right.” Paulie left to tend to the new customer. You came out of the bathroom right after, your hair and makeup fixed perfectly once more. 

“Did Paulie talk your ear off?” you ask, casually taking a seat. “He does that sometimes, but he means well.”

“No, not at all,” Newt wavered. He took a quick glance at the man. “You seem to know each other well.”

You took a swing of your drink, nodding as you did. “That tends to happen when you know someone for ten years.”

“You’ve known him for ten years?”

“Yeah,” you say as though it were obvious. “Leta and I used to come here a lot when we first moved in together. It was much more lively back then than it is now. Paulie owns the place but he does almost everything on his own, so I sometimes volunteer to help him around here— little things, like tend to the bar, clean up after drunks— that sort of thing.

“We grew close and I sort of became a pseudo-daughter to him. He takes care of me and I take care of him; we nag each other when we don’t take care of ourselves. In a way, I guess I see him as a father too.”

When you looked up Newt had his eyes trained on you. They seemed to pity you, which only made you irritated. Then you remembered the whole reason you were in the pub to begin with. 

“So, what did you want to talk about Newt?” You quickly change the subject. 

Newt blinked, obviously flustered by the sudden change in topic. “Well, I want to know how you’ve been.”

“Are you joking?”

Newt gave you a bashful look, and you knew he was trying to generate small talk instead of addressing the elephant in the room.

“Alright,” you huff, and down the rest of your drink while simultaneously ordering two more. “I’ll play. I’ve been fine— great even! I have a cat, which is strange in itself, but he keeps me company. I would tell you about my shop in Diagon Alley, but you know all about that considering you were there.”

“And how are Davina and Priscilla?” Newt continued.

“They’re good. Davina and Anthony got married three years ago and have a son. They live in Wimbourne now. I try to visit at least once a month. Priscilla is probably exactly how you remember her.”

“Prissy and judgmental?”

“Yes, exactly.” You chuckle lightly. “She’s moved to France this past year after falling in love with a muggle from there. She’s really happy now.”

Newt smiled. “I’m happy to hear that.”

Newt kept asking you questions as you drank, and you answered them truthfully to appease him. The drinks started affecting your temperament, and you became less and less tense. You even found yourself enjoying the conversation. It almost felt normal.

“And what about you?” You finally ask after being bombarded with questions. “Newton Scamander, magizoologist and savior of the wizarding world; the wizard who singlehandedly captured Gellert Grindelwald!”

You teased him playfully, making him blush. “You heard about that?”

You scoff. “Of course I heard about it, you git! How could I not? Every wizard dead and alive knows about it. You’ve been the hot topic for months.”

“I suppose it was a silly question.” He laughs, making you laugh with him.

“You think?”

Newt began telling you about how he ended up in New York last December. He told you about the Thunderbird, Frank, that he had fostered, and how he was attempting to smuggle the creature to Arizona so he could release it into the wild. Then he told you about his niffler (who had quite the affinity for shiny things) and how it got loose in a muggle bank, causing all types of mischief. It just so happened that Newt’s case full of creatures got swapped with a muggle named Jacob’s case. You listened closely as he explained everything, asking a few questions here and there. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. You knew that it was childish, but you couldn’t help it. He seemed so happy reminiscing about his time in New York with the new friends he made, and one person, in particular, seemed to be mentioned more than the others.

“Who's Tina?” 

Newt blinked. “Oh, she’s an American auror. She’s quite nice, I think you’d like her.”

“Is she pretty?” You asked, catching him off guard.

“I-I’m sorry?”

“The auror, Tina,” you reiterated. “Is she pretty?”

Newt reached up to scratch the nape of his neck, his cheeks glowing a light pinkish color. 

“Well I— I never really thought about it... I suppose she is attractive.” He stopped when he noticed your pointed expression. “B-But in an average sort of way! I never really thought about it, s-so I don’t really know.”

You let out the laugh that you were holding in as he stumbled over his words, making him blush even harder. 

“I was just teasing you, Newt. No need to cause a fuss.” You found amusement in his flushed red face. It reminded you of how easily flustered he got when you were kids. He still looked like a strawberry when his freckled cheeks turned bright red. 

You smiled softly at him. “You really haven’t changed a bit.”

Newt smiled back at you, having missed how easy it was to talk to you. “I could say the same.”

The two of you talked for a long time in the pub; so long that Paulie had to kick you out (kindly of course) so that he could close. Because you’d both lost track of time, neither of you realized just how late it was getting. It wasn’t until Paulie pointed it out that you noticed the rest of the pub was empty. You couldn’t tell if it was the daisyroot or if it truly was so easy for you to slip back into things with Newt. The way you two talked and joked around in the bar was almost as if things hadn’t changed between you at all. 

When you walked out of the pub, the rain had stopped, leaving nothing but slippery streets and the smell of mist and dew in its presence. Grey storm clouds still hid the stars from view, and the distant drumming of thunder could be heard, signaling the worst had yet to come. You hugged your coat close to your body, the cool air making goosebumps rise on your skin. You turned to Newt, who was putting on his own coat.

“Should I walk you home?” Newt asked politely, though you were sure he wouldn't have taken no for an answer. 

You were about to answer when you noticed him pull a long black and yellow scarf out from his coat’s pocket. You immediately recognized the piece, though its colors had faded over time. 

You reached up to take the knitted fabric in your hands, much to Newt’s surprise. “Is that my scarf?” 

He looked down at your hands around the scarf. “Yes.”

“You kept it after all these years?”

Newt cheeks glew red. “It keeps me warm...”

You smiled, your chest grew a flash of boldness struck through you and you looked Newt in the eyes. 

“Why don’t you take me to yours?” You suggest. “I want to see all those creatures you told me about.”

Newt was taken aback by your proposal. The thought of you and him alone in his apartment made him nervous, but it was a good kind of nervous. 

“Alright,” Newt smiled.  “It’s this way.”

••• 

On the corner of 9, Sheeingford Square was a yellow brick victorian townhouse. It was a quaint place that emitted a homely aura. It is this house where Newt made his home. The rain had since returned, accompanied with brisk winds and rumbling thunder. You shrieked as you and Newt rushed up the stairs to his front door, trying to shield yourselves from the rain. Newt stuck his hand in his coat’s pocket, clumsily fishing for his keys.

When the door opened, you sought refuge inside, shaking the water from your hair and ultimately taking in your surroundings. Newt’s house pleasantly surprised you. You expected it to be a mess. Not because he was a man or anything, but because of his lifestyle. You would think anyone who fostered magical creatures had a disheveled living space. Lord knows you wouldn’t have found the time to clean up. Newt’s flat was clean, though, and well kept. 

Newt moves to take your coat, and you shrug it off for him to take. While Newt put the coats in the closet, you looked around. The furnishings of the house were a bit outdated, but tasteful nonetheless. It wasn’t particularly spacious: the kitchen was small and doubled as a dining room. The living room was nice, complete with a velvet loveseat and fireplace. The more you looked you caught glimpse of a bathroom and two sets of stairs, one leading up and the other down. 

“The basement is this way.” Newt motioned for you to follow him down the steps to the basement where he kept his animals. With each step you took, the more apparent it became. You started to hear the calls of multiple creatures, and you started to smell the various smells that came with keeping animals. You didn’t mind it, it was almost comforting. It was a smell you could only say was a mixture of a summer breeze, seawater, and earth. 

Once you reached the basement you were awestruck. The basement was tenfold its proper size, with an array of enclosures fitted for each creature. A criss-cross of stairs led to various different parts of the basement. You carefully followed Newt down the intricate stairs, taking in all your surroundings. 

When Newt reached the floor he immediately went to work, rolling up his sleeves, fetching a bucket of cornmeal, and making his way to a dear-like creature.

“Sorry for the mess,” Newt apologized as he fed the creature. “I told Bunty I would clean when I got back.”

“Bunty?” You think back to the party and remember a younger girl standing off to the side of the room behind Newt. “Is she the funny girl with the big eyes and curly hair?”

“Yes, that’s her.” He confirmed.

You explored the area around you as you walked. “She likes you, you know.”

Newt scoffed, making a face in disbelief. “No.”

“Yes,” you insist. “She couldn’t stop looking at you from across the room. She looked like she wanted to bite my head off when you came up to me.”

Newt snorted at that, the mere thought amusing him. You grinned too, feeling that pesky tightness in your chest once more.

“I don’t blame her though,” you began him, your words flowing from your lips before you could stop them. “If my boss was as charming and handsome as you, I’d be craved for their attention too.”

The flirtatious comment made Newt’s heart skip a beat, and he turned his head away to hide his face that was set aflame. You smirked to yourself, allowing him time to collect himself while you wandered. You came across a work table that was messily kept with tools and papers when the tiniest of squeaks caught your attention. There, on an opened journal, was a spindly, leafy, green creature crawling on its pages. You narrowed your eyes at the curious little thing, before gasping.

“Pickett?” You grinned brightly.

The creature trilled, reaching its hands up for you like a child would. You laid your hand out for the bowtruckle to crawl on and lifted it up to your face.

Newt made his way over to you having heard your discovery. “I see he found you.”

You carefully pet the boisterous creature with your finger. “Long time no see, Pick!”

Pickett squeaked up at you, waving his hands in a funny fashion.

“Hey, it’s not my fault!” You defend yourself from the scrutiny of your insect-like friend. “You know I would have visited if I could— ...now that’s not fair.”

Newt watched the silly interaction between you two, thoroughly entertained. It was sweet to see Pickett so vocal and open towards someone other than him. It felt so natural to have you by his side again. You’d been apart so long he forgot how good he felt when you were with him.

“He missed you,” Newt chuckled. “We both did... Miss you, I mean.”

“Really?” You say bitterly, the intoxicating taste of liquor disappearing from your tongue. “Hard to tell when you didn’t write for fourteen years.”

“It’s not that I didn’t want to write,” Newt defends. “I did.”

“Then why didn’t you?” You ask directly. “I waited for you, Newt. Every day for two years I sent you letters, none of which you answered.”

Newt fumbled over his words. His inability to speak on the subject only worsened your frustration.  

“You know, it’s funny,” you chuckle half-heartedly. “It took me a while to finally accept that you weren't going to write back. But even after I stopped sending letters, I would look in the mail hoping to see your name on an envelope. It was only just when I started to forget that I finally got my letter.”

Newt’s mind went completely blank. He wanted to say something anything. You looked at him so expectingly, waiting for the answers to all the questions you asked yourself for the last fourteen years in this exact moment. But he didn’t even know where to begin. There was so much he wanted to say, so much that you didn’t know. How was he going to explain it to you without risking losing you?

“Are you not even going to try and explain?”

“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.” Was all he could manage to say.

“Bullshit!” You quipped. “You’re telling me that for fourteen years you thought I was okay with not hearing from you?”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“You know what?” You push past him and make your way to the stars. “I don’t even know what I’m doing here. I’m leaving.”

“(y/n), don't leave!”

“No, NO!” You whipped around to face him, stopping him in his tracks. “Fourteen years ago I asked you not to leave and you did. You left ME! The one person in this entire world I trusted and you left! So, no! You don’t get to ask me not to leave.”

Newt swallowed the lump in his throat. The venom in your voice made his heart ache. You left him wordless, marching up the stairs sourly. Newt panicked. You were leaving him, this time for good. He knew that this was your last straw; you wouldn’t talk to him again if he let you walk out the door. He couldn't handle losing you forever. Newt grabbed the journal that was left on his table and chased you up the stairs, back into the living room where you were rummaging through the coat closet. Thunder clapped outside, a flash of lightning illuminating the dimly lit room.

“Leave me alone, Newt! I'm done playing this game,” you say as you put on your jacket.

Newt quickly opened the journal and flipped to a random page, gathering all of his courage he could muster to read its contents aloud.

“December third, nineteen thirteen. Dear, (y/n). I got your letter. Thank you for taking care of the den for me. You don’t have to worry about me, I’m doing alright,” he read aloud, stopping you in the process. “My mother was disappointed about what happened, but Theseus helped me get a job at the Ministry of Magic, so I’m not completely useless. I’m not happy about it, but it’s the least I can do. My first day is tomorrow. I’ll tell you more about it in my next later. Wish you well, Newt.”

You turned around to listen to him, raising an eyebrow as he continued.

“September twelfth, nineteen fourteen. Congratulations on making head girl, I always knew you could do it! I bet Professor Selket’s face was a sight to see. I wish I was there to see it. I’m sure your seventh year will be one to remember. About the war, I’m being shipped off to the Eastern Front to work with Ukrainian Ironbellies. You don’t have to worry about me though, I’m actually excited.”

You reached to take the journal from him, flipping through the inked pages. Inside were countless letters, all of which were addressed to you. They weren't consecutive, but it was easily fourteen years worth of letters for you. You flipped to the most recent installment, which had been written in December, and read it yourself.

                    ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━    

December 15th, 1926

    My (y/n),

    I often wonder how you’ve been. Theseus tells me your store has been busy due to the holiday season. I hope you’re taking it easy. I have been thinking about you a lot this week, more than usual. I’m in New York City now. It’s a wonderful city, you’d like it. Maybe one day I can bring you here. I had the adventure of a lifetime here. I’m sure you’ll hear about it soon. I had a scare recently. There was a moment when I thought I would never see you again. It was the worst feeling I ever felt. I found myself fighting for my life, fighting to see you. In a way, you could say that you saved my life. Anyway, I must go now. I’ll tell you all about my time in New York in person soon. Just wait a bit longer.

    Love,    
    Newt

 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

There was a squeeze in your chest. Your heart swelled and various emotions overwhelmed you. Your throat felt tight, and tears gathered around your eyes.

“What is this?” You whispered.

“They’re letters. Your letters.” Newt explained. 

You shake your head. “This isn’t fair,” you tremble. “It’s not fair! You can’t just give this to me and expect everything to be okay!”

“I don’t!” He clarifies. “I-I don’t expect it to be okay— and I don’t expect your forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. I have done nothing but hurt you these past fourteen years. You have every right to leave without giving me the time of day.”

“If you believe all of that, then why come back?” You question. “Why chase me down and try to rebuild burnt bridges?”

“Because I’m selfish,” he said, taking a daring step towards you. “I don’t want to spend another moment without you, (y/n).” Newt took your hands in his. They were warm and rough. “I know what I did is unforgivable. But, please... let me be selfish with you.”

Your heart skipped a beat in your chest, your guard slowly breaking down as Newt took another step towards you, getting close enough to clasp your hands. Thankfully, you let him, and he took the time to relish in feeling your hands in his.

“(y/n),” he began softly. “I have thought about you nearly every day for the last fourteen years. There wasn’t a day where I didn’t wish you were by my side. You are the most important person in my life, of course, I wanted to write to you. I promised you I would.”

"You also promised me that you would never leave and you did.” You counter. “Your word isn’t exactly viable to me.”

“It wasn’t something a planned on doing,” he says. “I wanted to come back, I just couldn’t bring myself to face you.”

“Why not? Was it something I said? Something I did?”

“No, it was something I did!” 

Newt’s eyes fell down to the raised scars on your neck. They were different than what he remembered. The three long gashes had faded over time and looked significantly smaller. Whether it was due to age, makeup, or both, he could not tell, but the memory still remained. You watched his eyes glisten in the light from the tears that threatened to spill. He swallowed the lump in his throat and took several steps back until he bumped into the back of the couch. 

“It was me who hurt you all those years ago,” he whispered. “I was the reason you were attacked that night.”

Your brows creased. “Why would you think that?”

“The night of your sixteenth birthday,” he said. “When you and Priscilla separated from the group I followed you. I don’t know why. I think I was just curious.”

You tried to think back to that night. Strokes of memories coming together before finally creating the full painting. An expression of recollection washed over your face. 

“I wasn’t trying to listen," Newt cried. "But I wanted to know why Priscilla hated me so much. The truth is, she was right to hate me. She was right about it all. I shouldn't have left you on your own. I should have been there for you."

“Newt that wasn’t for you to hear or know.”

“You don’t understand,” he spurred. “I hated myself for a long time because of what I had done. I never treated you the way you deserved. It’s my greatest regret.”

Just like that, it all became so clear. The way he behaved the night of your party, the weeks leading up to his expulsion, his disappearance from your life. Newt left because he felt responsible for your attack, making you the werewolf you were. Knowing that he put you through such pain— a permanent curse— made him feel unworthy of your friendship. 

“All this time I thought you didn’t care,” you say, softly. “When in reality, you cared so much. You didn’t leave because you didn’t care for me. You were punishing yourself.”

Newt looked down at his feet, too ashamed to look you in the eye. You make your way towards him, immediately taking the sides of his face in the palms of your hands. 

“Newt, you need to know that I never once blamed you for what happened,” you tell him. “The things that Priscilla said that night were terrible and untrue, I made sure she understood that right then and there. The truth is that sometimes, things happen that we can't control, and it’s no one person’s fault. You may wish you were there to protect me, but then what? Both of us would be wolves— or worse! We were just kids, Newt.”

You gave him a warm smile; a special kind of smile that you seemed to reserve only for him. You could feel his cheeks grow warm and they flushed a pinkish red. He closed his watery eyes, causing tears to stream down his face. You wipe them from his cheeks with your thumbs.

“And I could never hate you,” you assure him. “I could think of a thousand horrible things you could do to me, Newt, and I still couldn’t hate you. Not even if you cursed me to.”

Newt opened his eyes and stared at you as though he were in a trance. He lifted his hands to capture your own. They were large and calloused from his work, but you liked the feeling. Your heart began to race, and you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat. The sudden silence made you anxious, and you desperately wanted an out. 

“Say something,” you beg.

The thing about Newt was, he never could express his feelings. He was a natural introvert. It wasn’t because he didn’t like people, but he just figured people never like him. Newt was actually a very sensitive person, and highly emotional. Perhaps that’s why animals gravitate to him so easily. But because of his inability to properly connect with people, he struggles to open up. But with you, it’s different.

When Newt looks at you he feels safe and free of judgment. You make him feel normal in a world that made him feel alien. Even with his abnormalities you never shamed him for it or got frustrated with him. You always seemed to know him; perhaps even more than he knew himself. He liked the way you made him feel. He wanted to feel that way forever. 

“I love you.”

The words seemed to flow from his lips so easily. No stutters, no slurs, no long-winded explanation. Just three words. Three words that have been stuck at the bottom of his throat for years. It was freeing, saying them to you. He wanted to say it a thousand times.

I love you, (y/n). I love you. I love you. I love you. 

His heart sang the same song for fifteen years. You were a tune he couldn’t get out of his head, and finally he knows the lyrics. It was you. It was always you.

Your heart skipped several beats. You were paralyzed. Your mind went blank, only echos of his voice saying the three words you had dreamt of coming from his lips. You couldn’t do anything but stare in shock, and pray that it wasn’t a dream. 

Newt guided your hand to his chest, placing it flat over his heart. You could feel it pulsing excitedly beneath your fingertips. 

“This is how you make me feel when I’m near you,” he confesses. “No one else makes me feel this way. You do something to me that makes me lose all sense of purpose. I just know that I want to be with you. I want to hold you, and kiss you...”

His hand went to hold the side of your face. You hadn’t realized you were crying until you felt him brush a tear from your cheek.

“I’m in love with you, (y/n),” he muttered. “I have been for a long time. I want to be with you. I want you.”

It wasn’t until you felt his warm breath on your skin that you realized how close you were. You were so drawn to him it was intoxicating. In that moment you wanted nothing more than to just be close to him; to hold him, feel him—anything to satisfy the years of yearning you had for him. Newt’s eyes trailed down to your lips. He leaned close, your noses brushing against each other. Your eyes grew heavy, and you held your breath. Without hesitation, Newt pressed his lips against yours, capturing you in a tender kiss. 

Electricity shot through your body. His soft lips melded together with yours perfectly. The feeling of his lips on yours was beyond euphoric. You could only relate it to the feeling of transforming under the full moon. After every bone in your body breaks to mold you into your wolf form, an amazing feeling washes over you. The pain and pressure leave your body all at once. Adrenaline courses through your veins and drugs your brain. You were filled with celestial energy. When you’re a wolf you become one with the moon. You feel it inside you, filling you up with immense power and magic. It vibrated under your skin deliciously, awakening all your senses. Newt affected you in that very same way. You were connected to him; like how you were connected to the moon. 

He draws you close and fills you with his essence, sending vibrations through your body. You could only focus on his mouth, desperately trying to get more of him. Newt submissively parts his lips and your tongue dives in his mouth. You fell into him, positioning yourself between his legs and pressed against his body. Your hands gripped the hair at the nape of his neck as his traveled to your waist. 

Newt liked how you tasted. The sweet taste of daisyroot still lingered on your tongue, making him want more. He had imagined what it would be like to kiss you over a thousand times, but nothing matched how exhilarating it actually was. Without you, Newt never felt completely whole. There was a piece of him that only lived in you, without it he felt empty and cold. He grew accustomed to it over time, but the feeling never truly never went away. He could go the whole day not feeling it, but when night came, and he was left alone, it crept up his spine: an internal numbing chill that filled his heart. But, when your lips connected, he felt it all melt away. The piece of him that was missing returned and, suddenly, warmth spread through his body like wildfire. He became addicted to the sensation, enjoying the satisfying burn in his chest that grew with your every touch. 

Newt kissed you passionately, exploring your mouth just as confidently as you were his. You instinctively rolled your hips into his, feeling him through his pants. The sensation of fabric rubbing against him was enough to make him shudder and moan into your mouth. It was such a sweet moan; low and soft. You rubbed against him another time to entice more sounds out of him. His breaths became shallow, sensual groans escaping him with each roll of your hips. He grew hard under your touch, a sizable bulge forming through his trousers. When your lungs started to burn, you separated your lips from his. He chased after them hungrily, placing soft kisses on your lips, before moving to your cheek. He trailed down, burying his face in your neck and peppering kisses on your scars. Your head fell back as he kissed and nipped at the sensitive skin. 

“Say it again,” you sigh as he sucked your neck. “Say you want me again.”

Newt kissed up to the bottom of your ear and whispered lowly, “I want you.”

His voice was deep with lust, sending a wave of heat through your body. You gasp as he began to suck on the skin of your neck. You tugged on his hair and ground your hips against him once more. 

“Then take me.”

Your breathless demand invoked something him. He experimentally bucked his hips into you, pressing into your most sensitive spot. The friction caused a delicate moan to escape your lips, spurring him on. He did it again, smoother and slower this time, lifting his head from your neck to kiss your painted lips. 

Your skin burned with lust. The two of you kissed feverishly, your tongues swirling in each other's mouths. Newt’s hands gripped the sides of your waist, holding you steady. Shallow breaths filled the room, making the air thick and humid. You felt pressure steadily building up inside you. In one swift motion you managed to push Newt over the back of the sofa and onto the seat cushions. The sudden movement took Newt by surprise. You hovered over him, your legs straddling the sides of his waist. 

You got off on how submissive he was to you. There was something about his desperate moans, flushed red cheeks, and sheepishness that set you aflame. He could say the same about your dominance. There was no doubt that you were in charge. Newt gladly put himself under you whim, wanting nothing more than to please you in any way he could. 

“Are you okay with this?” You ask. “Because once I start it’ll be hard for me to stop.”

“Then don’t stop,” Newt said, though it came out more needy than he had hoped, almost as if he were begging.

You leaned down, bringing your face closer to his. “Have you ever done this before?

Newt swallowed and meekly shook his head. “No... Not all the way,” he answered.

You couldn’t help but feel relieved. You knew it was unfair, considering you have had a reasonable amount of experience over the years. Somehow knowing that you would be his first made it much more endearing. 

“Why not?” You wondered. “Surely, you’ve had the opportunity.”

“I couldn’t,” he says. “They weren’t you.”

You smile and gently kissed him on the lips. When you parted, Newt saw your previous expression of tenderness leave your features, half-lidded eyes, and a sly smirk replacing them.

“Did you let those other women touch you?” You slowly dragged your hands down his chest.

He nodded, his breaths beginning becoming weak. “Yes.”

“Did you like it?” You began unbuttoning his vest. 

Newt closed his eyes and shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“I-I didn’t like them,” he shuddered once you began unbuttoning his dress shirt, exposing his hot skin to the cool air. “I had to pretend.”

You raised your eyebrows at his confession. You hadn’t expected him to be so vocal with you, especially when it came to things like this. Newt was so meek, you expect him to be a prude. Though you could tell talking about his past experiences with you embarrassed him, you sensed that he enjoyed it. 

“Go on,” you encouraged him. 

“I imagined that they were you,” he breathes. “That they were your hands and your lips.”

“You thought of me?” You grin.

“I only think of you.” 

You felt your cheeks grow warm at the thought. You imagined Newt with some other woman, trying their best to please him while he thinks of you— possibly even mistakingly moaning your name in the process. It drove you crazy with want. 

You kissed him again, thrusting your tongue in his mouth. Newt welcomed your lips, kissing you harder. You finished unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, parting the fabric, and exposing him to you. 

Newt hissed when he felt your cool fingers teasingly run up from his abdomen to his chest. You took the time to relish in the feeling of him under you. You could feel his deep breaths, his skin warming your fingertips. You noticed how on certain areas of his chest and on the left side of his waist were lines of raised skin. You straightened your back, pulling away from his lips. Newt sat up with you, forcing you to sit on his lap. You help him pull the rest off his shoulders. 

You didn’t mean to make him feel uncomfortable, but you were a little taken aback. You hadn’t seen him shirtless since you were kids; the pale scrawny boy you knew had disappeared. Newt’s tanned body was lean and muscular. Gnarly scars decorated his freckled skin from what you could only imagine was an impressively large creature. Claw marks striped the length of his ribcage, and a faint imprint of a bite dotted the right side of his waist. You found yourself tracing them lightly, as though you were afraid of hurting him. Newt grabbed your wrist abruptly, forcing you to look up at him. 

His face was turned away from you in shame. “You don’t have to...”

You furrowed your brows. “You think I mind?” 

Newt stayed silent and let go of your wrist, still avoiding your eyes. You sighed. You began to shrug yourself out of your dress, catching his attention. He stared at you wide-eyed as you slid the sleeves of your dress off your shoulders. You take your arms out before pulling the front of your dress down and letting it pool around your waist, unveiling your breasts. 

You didn’t give him the time to ogle at you before you grabbed his hand and placed it on your chest, on top of where your own scar ended. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. You felt his fingers trace the lines from the top of your breast to your neck, caressing you softly. You mimicked his actions, gliding your fingers up his chest, and caressing his neck.

“You are so beautiful,” he muttered as you locked eyes. 

“So are you,” you tell him. 

Newt pulled you into him, pressing his chest against yours and attacking your lips. You let him take control, allowing him to mark you. The heat between you both grew quickly again. Soon you both were grinding against each other and sharing sloppy kisses. 

“Take me upstairs,” you pant between pecks. 

Newt wasted no time, hooking his arms under your legs and lifting you up from the couch as he stood. You wrapped your legs around his waist and kicked off your shoes, letting them fall to the ground in two consecutive thuds. Newt carried you through the halls and up the stairs. You held on tightly, taking the moment kiss and suck on his neck, just as he had done to you before. 

He walked into the bedroom, closing the door behind him with his foot. You kissed him as he brought you to the bed, gently placing you on the covers. Your lips stayed connected as you moved to the center of the bed, resting your head on the pillows. 

“(y/n)...” he whispered as you kissed. 

You sensually lick his lips, taking his bottom lip between your teeth. He groans in pain and you let go, soothing him with another kiss. You bit your lip in attempts to contain your smirk. “Yes?”

Newt looked down at you with half-lidded eyes. He dove for your neck, steadily thrusting his hips into. You gasp at the sudden contact. You moan as you feel him grind against your core. Newt’s moans were muffled by your neck. 

“God, I want to taste you,” he groans in your ear.

A wave of heat gathered at your center. You never thought such dirty things could come from a mouth as sweet as Newt’s, but hearing it now you couldn’t think of anything sexier. It was so vulgar, and yet so desperate, almost as if he were asking for permission. 

“Do it,” you whisper. 

Newt lifted his head from your neck. You could tell he was beginning to second guess himself. He blushed and shied away from your eyes. “I don’t—”

“It’s okay,” you smile, taking his face in your hands. “I’ll tell you what I like.”

Newt covered your mouth with his, streaming kisses down your neck and chest. You closed your eyes and relaxed into the bed. Your chest heaved deeply as you felt his warm lips press against the valley of your breasts. He left a trail of hot, wet kisses down the middle of your torso, stopping at your navel where your dress gathered at your hips. 

He sat upon his knees between your legs, towering over you. You lifted yourself up with your elbows and teasingly wiggle your hips. Newt gathers the fabric in his hands and your lift your hips to help him pull it down your legs. He throws the dress to the floor, leaving you in a pair of frilly silk panties. Newt instinctively licked his lips. You rub your legs against the fabric of his pants and motion to your lower half with a jut of your chin.  

“Take them off.”

Newt hooked his fingers in the sides of your panties and slid them off with ease, discarding them with your dress. You were completely exposed to him. He couldn’t hide his amazement. You were a goddess in his eyes. The moonlight shone through the window bounced off your supple curves, your soft skin glowing a luminescent blue and your eyes sparkling like stars. He wanted to spend hours adorning every inch of your body with kisses— to worship your divine glamour— but that would have to wait. Tonight, Newt was yours, and his only purpose was to please you.

Newt laid flat on his stomach, aligning his face with your center. He hooked his arms under your legs, planting kisses up your thigh until he reached the part of you he desperately wanted to kiss. He experimentally licked a strip up your slit, making your hips twitch and inch closer to his mouth. He took it as a good sign and did it again, this time placing his tongue on your sensitive bundle of nerves. A breathy moan fell from your lips as you fell back into the pillows. 

Newt was a fast learner. He stimulated your clit with his tongue, enjoying the sounds of your pleasure as he did so. He lapped at your folds, diving his tongue into your entrance. He thrust his tongue in and out of his own pleasure. Your breaths quickened and your legs clenched around his head. Newt looked up at you as he ate you out. He loved the expressions your face made as his tongue fucked you. You had your eyes closed, and your eyebrows curled at the center of your forehead. You bit your bottom lip in attempts to silence your moans, but whenever he would rub your clit your mouth would fall open and release them. He did it often just to hear your pretty sighs. 

He acted on pure instinct. Newt pulled your thighs from around his head and spread them, holding them still with his arms. He viciously attacking your clit, sucking and rubbing it with his tongue simultaneously with great vigor. You squirmed under his hold, your body convulsing and twitching from overwhelming pleasure. Newt’s arms tightened around your legs, and his hands held your waist, keeping you from escaping his mouth. Your labored breaths and insistent mewls filled his ears, urging him to help you make more.

He continued his assault on your clit, driving you insane with pleasure. You couldn’t do anything but close your eyes and focus on the feeling of his tongue on your heat. Your hands fisted the pillowcase under your head. You could pressure building inside of you, making you tremble. 

“Oh, God... Oh, f-fuhhuck,” you whimper. “Oh, Newt, please don’t stop!”

Newt loved the way you moaned his name and became determined to hear you do it again. He blew cold air from his lips and teasingly kissed your folds, watching the tremors vibrate through your body. His tongue flattened against you, tasting you. He slipped his pink, wet, muscle inside of you once more, flicking it in and out. He pinned you to the bed as he adamantly tongue fucked you. You gasped and choked on your own sybaritism, feeling the world slipping away around you. Newt divided his attention to your clit, perversely stimulating the swollen bud. You inhaled sharply and arched your back, your breath caught in your throat as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. White light blinded your vision, a heap of violent orgasms wrecked your body. Newt lapped your juices as you came, finally realizing you from his grip.

His lips glistened with your release and he wiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand. His once-bright hazel eye turned black with lust. He watched your body quiver with sensitivity, pleased that he was the one who made feel that way. A cocky smirk stretched across his face as he hovered over you. His hands ran up the sides of your waist, sending shivers down your spine. He kissed up to your chest, taking a detour to your left breast and wrapping his lips around your pert nipple. He swirled his tongue around your nipple, sucking on it before releasing it with a pop. Your lips found his in an instant, your hands grabbing the sides of his face and pulling him into you, tasting yourself on his tongue. 

“Did I do good?” He asks between kisses. You giggled softly. The fact he still asked even though you both knew he was beyond good was amusing.

“You did amazing,” you praised, making him smile. You put your hands on his chest and gently pushed him off of you, switching your positions so he was now on his back and you straddle his hips. “Now it’s your turn.”

Your hand went to palm his hardened length. Newt let out a low grunt, pushing his hips into your hand. He was so hard the fabric of his pants strained against his groin uncomfortably. You knew it wasn’t a pleasant feeling and worked to free him from the confines of his pants.

Newt licked his lips as you began to unbutton his trousers. He watched your hands expectedly. You giggled once you noticed the unmistakable wet spot on his white boxers. Newt blushed when he realized what you had seen, and turned his head away in embarrassment, covering his eyes with his arm. You found it utterly adorable how sheepish he got. 

You pant a reassuring kiss on his stomach, his muscles contracting at the abrupt contact. You pull the waistband of his boxers down just enough to free his length. His cock sprung from his boxers and slapped against his abdomen. Newt uncovered his face, pushing himself up leaning back on his elbows to look at you between his legs. You took him into your hands and pumped him slowly, using the slick of his precum to lubricate his head and shaft. 

You wrapped your lips around the tip of his member, swirling your tongue around the pink flesh. You bobbed your head down his length, taking as much of him in your mouth as you could. Newt’s head fell back, his brows furrowed in concentration, focusing on the feeling of your wet mouth wrapped around him. His raspy grunts and moans made you ache, and you pressed your thighs together to release the tension. Newt glanced down at you between his legs, his mouth falling open, a guttural moan slipping past his lips. The image of his cock disappearing past your swollen lips would forever be burned in his memory. The sinful act itself was enough to send him over the edge. You knew he was close when you felt him throb in your mouth.

“S-stop!” He pants as he pulls out of your mouth. “Not yet... I want to be inside you.”

You wipe the mixture of saliva precum that covered your chin with your thumb, sliding it into your mouth and swallowing the collected juices off. You crawled up to him, like a wolf stalking her prey. You pushed him back down on the bed by his shoulder, laying him flat on his back. Newt peered up at you, growing excited at the sight of your dominant figure looming over him. You leer down at him through wolfish black eyes, a provocative smirk plastered on your lips. You lightly drag your nails down his chest and stomach, the tickling sensation made him shudder. 

You took him into your hand, giving him a few pumps before positioning him at your entrance. You sank into him, hissing as you felt him stretch you perfectly. Newt moaned when he entered you. The feeling of your tight wet walls around his aching cock felt heavenly. You sighed in content once all of him was inside of you, the initial discomfort dissipating, and soon replaced with the lewd feeling of being full. You experimentally rolled your hips to get a reaction out of Newt, whose hands flew to your waist, gripping your hips. The sensual rock of your hips sent waves of pleasure pulsing up your bodies. Your head fell back as you bounced on his cock, reaching up to caress one of your breasts. Newt used his hands to guide you up and down his length, bucking his hips deeper into you. The smell of sex was thick in the air, the sounds of your moans mixing with the roar of the storm outside. 

Your and slid down your body, reaching between your legs. You rubbed your index finger against your clit, adding to your inclination. Newt watched you do this as he thrust into you, catching sight of how his cock filled you. His pace quickened, as did his breaths. You felt him brush against your sweet spot, your walls clenching around him in response. Newt cursed under his breath, grinding his hips into you, his member pulsing inside of you. When he brushed against it again you gasped, tightening around him again. 

“Right there,” you breathe. 

Without warning, Newt lifted himself from the bed, slipping out of you and taking you in his arms. He laid you next to him, resting your head on his left arm and wrapping his right arm around your waist, pressing his chest into your back. He pecked your shoulder, pushing his leg between yours, and spreading them enough for him to slide back in. He teasingly ground his hips against your backside, making sweet whines fall from your lips. You felt his hand slither down your abdomen, landing at your heat. He pulled out of you fully one last time, before thrusting back into you with great speed. His fingers vibrated against your clit in fast, calculated circles. 

Your breath caught in your throat, only strangled cries and high-pitched whimpers escaped. Newt’s heavy breaths blew against your ear. He whispers your name like a mantra while kissing the expanse of your neck.

“(y/n)...” 

Kiss. 

“Oh, (y/n)...” 

Kiss. 

“I love you. I love you so much!”

Kiss, kiss.

He thrust deeper, hitting your spot perfectly. You call out his name, reaching your hand up to entangle your fingers in his hair. Newt’s fingers continue work on your clit as his hips slapped against your ass, turning it bright read. He Your sense became overwhelmed, the knot in your stomach growing tighter with each thrust. Your walls clenched around him, goading his own release.

“You feel so good,” he moans in your ear. “I’m so close.”

The air around you grew hot and humid, creating a thick layer of sweat on your bodies. The bedsheets stuck to your skin, the salt of your sweat lingered on his lips. A flash of lighting allowed Newt to get a glimpse of your beautiful face contorted in pleasure. Your hair sprawled around your face; your plump limps permanently parted, and your eyes screwed shut. Newt leaned over and kissed your open mouth, swallowing your wanton moans. 

Skin slapped against skin, harmonizing with your relentless moans in a marvelous crescendo. Newt’s thrusts became jerky and erratic, muscles contracting and flexing. He moaned your name as he came inside you, filling you with his hot seed. You came not long after, your legs shook as your second orgasm flowed through you. The knot burst with his last thrust, the pressure instantaneously leaving your body to be replaced with sweet ecstasy. He rode out both your highs, bucking his hips into you until you were both trembling from overstimulation.

Newt pulled out of you, and you hum from the loss of contact. You turn on your side to face Newt. You watch him reach over the side of the bed and pull up a large crocheted blanket. He drapes the soft fabric over you, covering your naked bodies. For a long time, neither of you spoke. You only stared in each other's eyes. You didn’t need to speak. You only wanted to lay next to him and look in his hazel eyes.

The silence was filled with your deep breaths. The storm outside had calmed, having been reduced to nothing but the far off rumbling of thunder and the pitter-patter of rain pelting the windows. Newt reached a hand up to caress the side of your cheek, brushing his thumb affectionately under your eyes. 

“I love you,” he mumbled sleepily. 

“I love you too,” you whispered, your eyes growing heavy. 

You smile and plant a kiss on his jaw before curling in his arms. Newts arms wrapped protectively around your form as you lay your head on his chest, the sound of his breathing lulling you to sleep.

•••  

Songbirds perched on the sill of a window sang a melody that pulled you from your dreams. Rays of golden sunburned your sensitive, sleep-ridden eyes. Not wanting to get out of bed just yet, you closed your eyes again and pulled the bed covers up to your chin. Your body searched for the familiar feeling of its lover, only to be met with an imprint of where he once was. 

The fog cleared from your mind, and you started to fully take in your surroundings. You heard shuffling and hushed curses from across the room. 

“Get back here you thieving peeve!”

You sat up in the bed and saw Newt chasing a blurry blue ball of fur in his underwear. It was quite a sight to see. The infamous creature, you knew to be a niffler, expertly evaded Newt’s attacks. It crisscrossed, slipped under, and jumped all over the room while Newt did his best to catch it. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched the scene unfold undetected. 

Newt chased the niffler under the dresser, thinking he had it cornered. Newt reached under the dresser to grab it, but the clever thing managed to escape, darting from under the dresser and rushing towards the door. However, the poor creatures' luck had run out, as Newt reacted quickly, catching it by its hind legs. 

“Ha! Got you!” He cheered. 

Newt held the queer creature in his hands, turning it upside down and shaking it forcefully. Several trinkets and some jewelry fell out of its pouch, clearly distressing the poor niffler as it tried to catch the shiny objects as they fell. Once its pouch was empty, Newt looked in the small pile before exclaiming and pulling out what looked like a ring. At the same time, the niffler jumps up and grabs the trinket in Newt’s hand. You watched the two play tug of war for a while until you grew bored. You cleared your throat, finally catching Newt’s attention. Two pairs of eyes jolt up to look at you. 

The light from the window highlighted Newt’s features, turning his eyes bright green and his hair auburn red. In the light you could better see his toned arms, chest, and stomach. Your eyes traveled up to find the spots of purple that decorated his neck. It was almost shameful how proud you felt seeing him marked by you made you feel.  

Newt flashed you a smile, his cheeks tinted red. “Sorry, love. Did we wake you?”

“Oh, no, not at all,” you grin snarkily.

The niffler looked between you and Newt before releasing the ring from its tiny hands and wriggling out of Newt’s grasp. The funny creature fell on its belly and scurried out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. You and Newt shared a look before you suddenly burst into a fit of laughter.

Newt’s lips stretched into a smile. “You think it’s funny?”

You did your best to stifle your giggles. “If the first thing you saw in the morning was me running around in my underwear, wouldn't you find it the least bit amusing?”

“Actually, I think I’d quite like to see that,” he teased. 

You gasped, Newt finding his own amusement at your flustered state. You didn’t have time to whip up a comeback before he crawled into bed and shut you up with a peck on the lips. 

“Good morning,” he whispered lowly.  

“Good morning,” you pout, making him chuckle. 

He kissed you again in a second attempt to distract you from his earlier brazenness. Lucky for him, it worked, and you smiled into the kiss. When he pulled away he had a sly smirk on his lips, making you playfully roll your eyes. ‘Cheeky bastard,’ you thought.

Newt fell onto his side of the bed, taking you back under his arm. You laid you head on his bare chest and curled into him, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. Your eyes fell down to the ring still in his hand, curious as to why it was the cause of earlier’s commotion.

It was a very detailed piece. The band was gold with two carved crescent moons on either side of the large, white, reflective stone you recognized to be moonstone. Above the moonstone were three triangularly placed diamonds carved to look like stars. You’d never seen anything like it. Newt noticed your interest, and held the ring in front of you. 

"Do you like it?” He asks.

You nod. “It’s beautiful,” you say. 

“It’s one of a kind,” he tells you. “I had it made special.”

“What would you want with a ring like this?” 

“Nothing,” he says simply. “I suppose I should just give it to you then.”

“Yeah right,” you snort craning you neck to look up at up. “What’s the catch?”

He looks at you intensely, his lips pulling into a soft smile as he studied your face. 

"Marry me.”

You shot up in the bed. “What?” you gaped.

“Marry me, (y/n),” he repeated.

Newt licked his lips nervously and sat up next to you, taking your hands in his. 

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, probably too much time,” He chuckled. “I can't make up for the time that we were apart, but I know that I can promise to never leave you again. Now that you’re back in my life, I don’t think I can let you go. I want you to be the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night. I want to travel the world with you. I want to get on a boat and chase the sunset with you. I want to do everything I promised you for the rest of my life. I want to be with you, (y/n).”

“I want to be with you too,” you cried. “I always have. For a long time I didn’t see anything in my future. But then I met you, and suddenly, whenever I thought about the future I saw you. When I’m with you, I feel like I belong. I don’t ever want to lose that feeling.”

He wiped the tears from your cheek. “You won’t. I’ll never leave you again,” he promised. “I love you, (y/n), more than you know; but I promise I will spend the rest of my life showing you how.”

You smiled and took his head into your hands to kissed him, pleasantly catching him by surprise. He sunk into the kiss, marveling in the feeling of your lips on his. He swore he could kiss you forever. He only pulled back when things started to get heated, laughing when you whimpered in disappointment.

“So, is that a yes?” he asked. 

You nod your head excitedly. “Yes,” you beam. “Yes, yes, yes!”

Newt grinned and peppered kisses on your face as he took you by the hand and slid the ring on your finger. You couldn't believe how right it felt having it on. How right it felt to be next to him, to be held by him, to kiss him. It was just right. And when he kissed you on the lips for the thousandth time that morning, you knew that you were exactly where you needed to be. 

         ──── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ────

       -  𝑒𝓁 𝒻𝒾𝓃 -

        ──── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ────