Chapter Text
some years previously
* * *
“Newt. Newt.”
“Stop it. I’m sleeping.”
Theseus yanks the duvet off the bed. “You can sleep later. Let’s eat and go to the beach, it’s after eleven.”
“Please. Go. Away.” Newt scrambles for the blanket, but Thesues flicks his wand and the comforter sails across the room. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“We’ve got an entire summer to spend here and you’re going to waste it inside, sleeping and feeling sorry for yourself. Let’s go, Newt, come on! We’ve got this entire house. We’ve got our own beach for Merlin’s sake. We’re a commodity!”
“To who?”
“Girls, Newt.” He turns and starts heading down the hall. Now get out of bed and put your swimming clothes on. And do something about that hair!”
Newt sits up, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, giving a little huff to blow the hair from his face. Theseus has been trying to get him down to the beach for four days, ever since they got here. It was only a matter of time before Newt finally caved, so it may as well be today.
They eat toast and eggs quickly before jogging down to the public beach. Theseus has an entire plan worked out – he’s going to get himself and his brother a girl each, and they’re going to buy fish from the market and cook them on a fire down by the shore.
“It’ll be romantic, it’ll be chilly. There’ll be wine.” Newt looks over the edge of his sunglasses. “Don’t be so unimpressed, Newton.”
“Why are you so set on this?”
“Because we need to meet a couple of nice girls. What’s the point in having your own beach if you can’t woo anyone with it?”
Newt concedes. “Fair enough.”
* * *
Newt wakes, the fringes of a dream still grabbing at him. It’s too early to be up, and Tina breathes softly in her sleep next to him, hand gripping the sheets. He sits up, folding his legs underneath him, trying to decide what to do. Tina stirs.
“Newt—”
“Go back to sleep.”
“And you,” she mumbles, pushing herself onto her elbow. She glances at the clock. “It’s five in the morning.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Please stop being awake.” Newt shrugs. Tina sits up more, bringing her hand up to cup the back of his neck. “Bad dream?”
“Something in between.”
She hums, kissing his cheek. Newt relaxes into the soft ministrations of her hand on his back, closing his eyes and letting his head droop to the side. He feels her shift, and suddenly has a lapful of Tina, who kisses him. When she draws back, he chases, but she puts a finger over his lips. “Let me do this.”
“Alright.”
Tina smiles, rocking back and stretching out her legs, reaching under the hem of her night shirt for her underwear to draw down the expanse of her thighs and toss to the side. She settles into his lap again, hand snaking behind the waistband of his pajama bottoms, fingers grazing his cock. Newt swallows, lifts his hips and awkwardly shimmies them down with her still sitting on him.
“We should just sleep naked,” Tina muses, which startles a laugh out Newt he isn’t expecting. She grins. “I like it when you do that.”
“Take off my pants?”
“Well, that too.” She kisses him. “When you laugh. It’s a good noise. I like to hear it.”
“Have I not laughed?”
“Not enough,” she murmurs. “Not for me.”
“I’ll try more often then, my dear. For your sake.”
“No.” Tina angles her head to kiss his jaw, trailing her lips down his neck. “Do it for you, Newt. Please.” And with that, she takes him in her hand, stroking slowly before lifting herself up and guiding him inside. She has a knee on either side of his legs, body working to accommodate him. Newt opens his mouth to suggest a more comfortable position, but her first thrust reclines him against the pillows, much like she was their first morning here, and it gives her better leverage to fuck him properly.
“Tina—”
“Let me do this.” She tugs at the edge of his shirt until his lifts his arms and helps her pull it off, running her hands over his chest. He frees her of her own, one hand coming up to cup a breast as the other braces against her hip. Each thrust brings her down onto him with a soft swallowing sound, like water lapping the shore, and Newt can only give himself up to it, surrendering completely to her.
Tina moans, rhythm faltering for only a moment before she picks up her pace, taking him hard, once. Newt shouts, jolting forward and gasping into the hollow of her throat, clasping her to him.
“Tina, yes—”
“I’ve got you,” she says. “See?”
“I know, I know—”
“You’re mine. You’re mine and I’ll—” She groans, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’ll always be here for you.”
Newt braces himself with one hand on the bed and pushes. She lands on her back, legs winding around his waist before Newt sets a bruising pace, fucking into her hard on every thrust. They are both noisy, now, a writhing thing of sheets and limbs. Newt plants a hand on either side of her head and moves, hips smacking against her relentlessly, until the sound fills the air.
“Newt – yes, yes –”
He puts his mouth on her ear, says against it: “We belong to each other.”
“Yes,” she breathes. “You know it’s been true—”
She comes. One hand pressed between them, rolling against her clit as he takes her, and she screams, short and loud, clenching around him and digging the nails of her free hand into his scalp. Newt bares this, watches her mouth fall open and captures her bottom lip between his teeth. He tumbles after her, his release messy and defiant, a thing that is pain and pleasure as she scrapes her nails down his arm, leaving angry red welts as he comes.
Tina lies on her stomach while Newt traces lazy circles over her back with his fingertips, blowing the hair off her neck.
“That tickles.”
“Sorry.” He kisses her shoulder.
She hums. “Don’t stop.” Newt laughs, and she shifts closer, close enough to capture his lips with her own. “I love you,” she says.
“And I love you.”
“Be nice to stay here forever.”
“I had that thought,” he says. “Just this morning, right before you ravaged me.”
“I think there was a lot of mutual ravaging happening, Newton.”
He kisses her forehead. “You’re quite right, my dear. Would you like breakfast?”
“Please.” She rolls over. “French toast.”
Newt pauses as he gets out of bed –
(“You can stay for breakfast, Theseus is making French toast.”
“Is he any good at it?” A girl, with red hair, sitting up in his bed wearing an old shirt. She tucks her hands into the sleeves, rolls over to kiss his cheek—”)
“Newt?”
“French toast,” he says quickly. “Right away.”
some years previously
* * *
Her name is Arya, Theseus says. “Has a sister, we met last night, actually. After you’d left the pub.”
“I wasn’t allowed to be there—”
“Easy, easy. Don’t act like a prat in front of them. Play it cool.”
Newt shoves his sunglasses up and over his head. “I am incapable, according to you.”
“Well, consider me a newfound believer.” Theseus grins and gives him a little shove. “Go talk to her. About something normal,” he adds.
Newt sighs, letting his sunglasses fall over his eyes again as he makes his way toward the girl. She’s very pretty, he sees, and rather familiar.
“Hi.”
She smiles up at him, pats the sand next to her. Newt sits. “Hello. You’re Newt, right?”
“Um. Yes.”
“Leyla told me.” She looks over her shoulder at her sister and Theseus. “We went to school together, don’t you remember?”
“Sort of.”
“We only had a few classes at the same time. I’m Ravenclaw,” she explains.
“Hufflepuff.”
Arya smiles. “So you and your brother are just…”
“Our family has a house, just up the way.”
She reaches up and brings her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose, looking over them at him. “Really.”
“And our own bit of beach,” he says, emboldened for a moment by her reaction, remembering Theseus’s words from earlier. “It’s not much—”
“Oh sure,” she says. “Not much. Just your own private beach.” She turns and calls out, “Leyla. These two have their own beach.”
Leyla looks at Theseus. “Do you really?”
“Aw, Newt, you’re giving away our secret.”
“Couldn’t help myself.”
Theseus grins. “Our very own beach. You two should come by.”
Arya moves, standing on her feet and putting her hands on her hips. “We should do that now,” she says. “Instead of sitting around here.”
“Arya, you can’t just—”
Newt stands after her. “It’s fine,” he says. “Right, Theo?”
“Well, if the girls want to.”
Arya nods, gives Newt a wink. “The girls want to,” she says. Then, quieter for just him: “Two can play this game, Newt Scamander.”
Newt flushes, ducking his head. “Don’t let Theseus know. He likes the chase.”
“Leyla’s agreeable.” She bends down and picks up her towel. “So am I.”
— — —
The two of them are watching Theseus and Leyla swim out into the oncoming waves when Arya says quietly, “I heard of you, at school.”
Newt’s head drops a little, and he stares at the sand between his feet. “I’m sure you did.”
“People said you weren’t the one who did that, you know. That it was…that it was that girl. The Lestrange girl.”
“People say all sorts of things.”
Arya shakes her head. “It’s pretty stupid, if you think about it. Taking the fall for someone else.”
Newt turns to her sharply. “Why would you think that?”
“Dunno. Just…wouldn’t a real friend fess up? Wouldn’t they be sorry you took the fall?”
“Doesn’t a real friend take the fall in the first place?”
Arya shrugs. “I suppose that the difference between you and her then.”
“I suppose.”
She sighs. “Well, even if it’s stupid, I still think it was…honorable. I guess.” She looks at him, and Newt feels his gaze soften. “You must really care about her.”
“I’m not really sure what I feel.”
“I understand that.” She looks toward the ocean. “Leyla’s fiancé left her. I’m glad she’s having a good time.”
“Sounds like a real prat.”
“Right? S’what I said before they got engaged, but no one listens.”
Newt snorts. “I understand that,” he says.
Arya smiles. “Glad we understand each other, Scamander.”
“Oy! You two! Get into the water!” Theseus is waving like a madman at them, and Newt stands.
“Shall we?” He extends his hand. Arya takes it.
“We shall.”
— — —
“It’s, um. It’s just that it’s my first—”
“Me, too,” she says quickly.
“I mean, I want to,” Newt says. “I just…if you don’t want to.”
“I want to.”
“Right. Well. Okay, then.”
She kisses him, a little messy and unorganized, but Newt figures it out.
“I want to,” she says again, and this time they’re both smiling, laughing even, as awkward limbs and lips try to figure things out.
“Brilliant,” he mumbles, and goes to kiss her again.
* * *
“I like this one,” Tina says. “You’re both very dashing.”
Newt takes the photo, peering closely at it. “That’s at my cousin Hestia’s wedding. She was terrible when we were growing up. Mother kept Theseus’s hair longer, past his ears, and she’d pull on it all the time. She used to push me off my bike.”
“Did she marry well?”
“I suppose so. She married a Longbottom, and they’re all rather pleasant.”
Tina taps the corner of the picture. “How old are you?”
“Fifteen? Maybe? I must be, because Hestia got married before I almost got expelled.”
Tina makes a little noise. “Speaking of.” She lifts a photo, and it’s a picture of Leta and Newt, standing together on the platform at the Hogwarts station. “You both look happy here.”
“I think we’re twelve.”
“You look it.”
Newt sighs, sliding the picture out of its spot in the photo album. “Things were less complicated then.”
“Aren’t they always?” Tina leans over and kisses his cheek. “Do you want to go with me into town? I think I want to get some flowers for the place before your mother comes to visit.”
“My mother—”
“Read your post, Newt.” She hands him a letter. “It was addressed to us both, by the way. Have you been telling her we’re engaged?”
Newt tears the letter out of the envelope. “This is from yesterday,” he howls. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Tina shrugs.
“Oh, you—”
“Newt, I’m going to town, you put me down this instant—”
He busies himself in the garden while she’s gone, yanking out weeds and tossing a few shells at some curious gulls that land by the squash.
“Go on,” he says. “Fly off.”
“Newt?”
He turns, and standing at the cusp of the garden and the yard is Eleanor Prewett. She’s rather bundled, considering the weather, but Newt pays no mind as he steps over the little garden fence and goes to embrace her.
“How are you?”
“Better,” she says.
“You sound like me.”
Eleanor smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t have a lot of answers to that question,” she says. “Most don’t satisfy anyone, so it doesn’t matter.”
“I know what you mean.” He extends his arm. “Would you like some tea?”
“I would, yes.” She looks around. “Aren’t you here with someone?”
Newt sighs. “Did you go to my mother?”
She nods. “Yes. She said—”
“Tina’s in town getting flowers. Mother’s coming to visit, apparently.”
“She mentioned that. She also told me to tell you to write back as soon as you get the letter.”
“I will,” he says dryly, and pulls out a chair for her at the table. “Aren’t you warm, love?”
“No,” she says quickly. “No, I’m fine.”
Newt shrugs, flicking his wand and setting the tea kettle to work. He settles across from her, and realizes he and Tina have left the photos all over the table. Eleanor stares. “Sorry,” he says. “I’m so sorry, Tina and I were—”
“It’s alright.” She reaches out, picking up a photo of Theseus and touching the corner. “It’s good to see him again.”
“You…you’re welcome to take any you’d like.”
She glances up. “Is this recent?”
“A year or so old.” He waves a hand. “Take it, it’s alright.” He watches her slide the photo into her bag. Newt waves his wand and the rest of the photos march into their spots and move to put themselves away. “So. What brings you here? Not that I’m not pleased to see you.”
“I know, Newt.”
“Are you…well. Well I know you’re not, because I’m not, but…are you alright?”
“I’m pregnant,” she says. “So, no.”
“Oh.” Newt straightens. “Oh, you’re—”
“I didn’t know until after you’d come to tell me. I’m honestly surprised anything has managed to survive me since then, but…apparently something has.” And now she takes off her large sweater, then her cardigan, revealing a swollen stomach.
“How…how far—”
“Six months.”
“Merlin’s beard, that's nearly to the day.”
“Well, his last visit—”
“Spare me the details,” Newt mutters, and she laughs, resting her hand on the little bump just beginning to form. “You’re serious.”
“Quite.”
“Oh, he just had to have the final word on this, didn’t he?” Newt mutters, shaking his head. “How are you, then? Are you set? Do you need anything?”
“I have money, please don’t worry about me.”
“Are you seeing a healer? Do you need someone? My family has one in London—”
Eleanor raises a hand. “I am not without resources, Newt. But I appreciate the offer.”
The kettle whistles, and Newt absently flicks his wand toward it, eyeing the cups as they progress toward the table.
“I’m telling you because obviously you and your family…you’ll need to be a part of this.”
“Of course,” Newt says. “Have you told my mother?”
“I did.”
“And?”
Eleanor holds her cup in her hands. “She cried a lot.”
“She does that these days.” Newt runs a hand through his hair. “Are you busy then, for the next week? Would you like to stay?”
“I can’t. I only barely managed to arrange something to get here. Took me a few weeks, honestly.”
“Right.” He fiddles with his cup. Behind them, the door to the house swings open, and Tina comes in, smelling of fresh flowers and baked bread, pausing as she approaches the kitchen.
“Newt—”
“This is Eleanor,” he says quickly. “She—”
“Oh.” Tina sets down the flowers and crosses the room to her quickly. “Your Theseus’s Eleanor.”
“I am.”
“Then it’s so wonderful to meet you.”
Eleanor smiles. “Do you need help with the flowers?”
“Only if you’d like to.”
“Oh I’d love to,” she says, and gets up to help Tina sort the bouquets.
Newt settles back down at the table, and finally sips his tea.
some months previously
* * *
Theseus puts an arm around him.
“I need you to do something for me, Newt.”
“Anything.”
“I need you to be happy, even if it doesn’t go the way we planned it.”
“You mean if we’re all eaten by dragons.”
“Sure.” Theseus chuckles and folds his arms over his chest. “Look, I know you have your reservations, but I also know you’re giving up a lot to follow me in this. And I just…I wanted to say thank you.”
Newt shrugs. “You’re my brother.”
“And you’ve not always been so keen to trail after me.”
“Sometimes you walk off the wrong cliff.”
Theseus shrugs. “True.”
“But…” Newt digs at the ground with the toe of his boot. “This one I’m willing to follow you off of.”
“Why?”
“Because.” It’s his turn to put an arm around his brother now. “I trust you.”
Theseus grins. “You’ll trust me always, then?”
“I won’t ever stop.”
“And you’ll keep going, if I…if I don’t make it?” Newt flinches. “Oh, come on now, Newt. You know it’s a possibility.”
“I’d…rather not dwell on it.”
“You have to promise, though.” Theseus looks at him. “Do you?”
“Of course.”
His brother nods. “Good.”
“If you…if you promise you’ll keep up with my book. Take trips, you know. Keep it current. If I die.”
Theseus nods. “I promise.”
“Well. Alright, then.”
Theseus pulls Newt into a hug, holding him tight. “I love you, little brother. Don’t you forget that.”
“You’d haunt me if I did.”
“You’re quite right about that.”
Newt laughs. “Well. I love you, too, I suppose.”
Theseus puts a hand over his heart. “That’s all I could ever want, Newt.”
* * *
“Are you sad about Eleanor?”
“About the baby?”
“Mhm.”
“No. I think it’s wonderful.”
Tina sighs, resting against him in bed and closing her eyes. “That’s good.”
“I tried to get her to stay, but I don’t think she’s ready for this place yet.”
Tina raises her head. “There’s too much of him here, isn’t there? You can feel it.”
“Yes.”
She nods. “What was your last summer like here, together?”
Newt sighs, shifting him arm around her. “We slept late, a lot. Theseus made a lot of sandwiches. I don’t think we wore shoes all season. And there were these girls.”
“Girls.”
“Sisters. One of them I went to school with, her name was Arya. We were the same year, different houses. We spent most of June with them, until they went home. She was…first, in a lot of things for me.” Newt looks at the ceiling. “This house was always first for a lot of things.”
Tina curls her fingers over his heart, tapping out a matching beat. “I love it here.”
“I know. It’s something else, isn’t it?”
“I want to come again, when we’re done. I want to bring Queenie here. And Jacob.”
“They’d love it.”
Tina looks at him. “This is a place for family,” she says. “That’s what it was always meant for, wasn’t it?”
Newt nods. “I suppose your right.”
She smiles and settles into the crook of his arm. “I’m glad you didn’t come here alone. You’d have been wretched.”
“Haven’t I been all summer?”
“Tolerably so, sweetheart.” She kisses his side. “I hold nothing against you.”
“Glad to hear it.”
They’re both silent for some time, and Newt thinks perhaps she’s gone to sleep, and maybe he’ll steal downstairs for a bit and read until he gets tired. But she says, into the darkness, “Newt?”
“Yes?”
“You know you never have to do this alone, right?”
He nods. This means so many things, in such a solitary, silent moment – grieve, find peace, garden, sleep, remember – all the things they’ve done together since they arrived.
“I know that,” he says. “I know that now, anyway.”
“That’s good,” she murmurs. In another moment, she’s gone to sleep.
Newt rethinks his evening plans, and rolls over.
Her revelation, he thinks, is one that goes both way – and there’s no reason to force her into solitude, if only because sleep evades him.
So Newt closes his eyes, breathes in the new scent of the house – fresh cut flowers, tea and bread, sand and salt –
And sleeps.
He sleeps for a long, long while, until after the sun has risen, and the day has started.
But it’s alright. Just because the day can’t wait doesn’t mean he isn’t ready to face it.
And besides. He isn’t alone.
Not anymore.