I'm atrocious at naming fics, so I'm sorry for the lame title. It comes from a lyric from the song "Neptune" by Sleeping at Last.
Tobias is Hebrew for "Goodness of God", and I thought that because Jacob and Queenie are both Jewish then it would fit.
Jacob and Queenie's son was one of the most adorable children Tina had ever seen; the tiny little baby had a full head of blonde curls already, just like her sister, and round chubby cheeks that melted her heart. It was easy to forget that there was a war rising when she peered down at that little bundle, easy to forget all of the darkness when holding something so pure and innocent.
She couldn't actually believe her younger sister was a mother now.
"He's something, isn't he?" Jacob remarked proudly.
Tina let out a quiet laugh as she looked down at her sleeping nephew, cradled carefully in her arms. "He is, he really is! He's…He's perfect."
"Would you like to hold him, Newt?" Queenie asked, looking over at Newt with a rather lovely smile; he looked up, surprised to have been asked, and was clearly trying to think of something adequate to say when Queenie gestured for him to come closer. "Don't be silly, hun – there's nothing to holding them. Teenie will show you."
Tina was unable to keep the thrilled smile off of her face, even as she gently transferred her nephew over to her husband's arms. Newt hesitated only slightly as he adjusted the weight of the baby in his arms, gazing down at him with wide eyes – it was the same expression he had whenever he cared for his beasts, she reflected, and it warmed her heart to see him suddenly smile down at the baby in such a way.
"Hello there," He said quietly, softly touching one of the baby's hands with a long finger. "Aren't you wonderful? I'm Newt…"
"Uncle Newt," Jacob corrected.
Newt looked taken aback by this, and Queenie nodded in agreement. "Of course. You're married to my sister – that means you're his uncle."
"Oh. Of course," Newt stumbled, looking back down at the snoozing babe in his arms. "I didn't think of that…"
As he continued to stare down at his nephew, absolutely in awe of him, Queenie looked at Tina meaningfully. "He's a natural, isn't he?"
"He's had practice," Tina remarked, thinking of him cradling several of their creatures in much the same way – there really was no difference.
Queenie quietly laughed, and Tina knew her sister had seen what she'd been thinking. "You know, he's going to be a marvellous father for real one day."
"Queenie!" She tried not to go pink, hurriedly casting a glance at Jacob and Newt; thankfully both men were completely transfixed with the baby still. "We've barely been married four months – there'll be plenty of time for that later."
"I know. But perhaps someday…just think about it."
Tina had thought about, though not seriously; as she had said, there would be plenty of time for a family later, once the war in Europe was over – hopefully it would finish in their favour, with a success against Grindelwald and his fanatics. For the time being, however, she had decided that it could wait.
Sometimes it was hard to be married in the midst of a brewing war.
Most mornings were quite a bliss, to tell the truth; they would wake up, more often than not entwined under the sheets, get ready for the day and have breakfast together – it could have been considered as a relatively boring routine, but it was their favourite because it was so normal to do. They were content on these days, content to be with each other, just to spend time together.
But then there were the darker mornings, Tina found; another attack on another village in the east of Europe, more people killed, and it was plain to see that not only was a wizarding war brewing but also a muggle one. It gave her chills when she heard about some of the things that were happening to people – wizards and muggles alike – and it would often leave her in a quiet subdued mood for the rest of the day. Newt would often spend most of the remaining day in his case after these worse mornings, still down there late at night when she returned from work – she often had to bring him food after failing to coax him out from his hiding place.
Night time could be counted as a relief, in some ways; they wouldn't even need to say anything to each other because they both knew, they both felt the same. It was better, in this case, to just slip back into their bed at the end of the day, curled up together to keep warm as the nights started to turn cold with the approaching winter.
Grindelwald hadn't attacked Britain yet – there were rumours that he was afraid of someone, more than likely Albus Dumbledore, and so he had started to instead attack the rest of Europe. He was quickly gaining power, gaining more and more followers across the continent, and the Ministry didn't think it would be too long until they'd have to send in teams of Aurors to fight.
Part of Tina wanted to fight and help in whatever way she could, to stop innocent lives from being lost – but at the same time, she dreaded it because it would take her away from her husband, take her away from their very-fresh marriage, the new life that they were still trying to build together. Newt was worrying about it too, she knew, though he never said anything – it was the look in his eyes, the occasional frown or gnawing of his lip in thought. She knew him well enough by now to know exactly was running through his mind during those moments.
It was easier to just forget at night, she reflected, easier to forget about all of the war and devastation when the two of them held each other, when they were making love slowly and carefully – she wouldn't have given up these precious moments for anything, and she was silently sure that Newt felt the same way.
The growing wars in both worlds were going to affect them no matter what…but for now they were content to just enjoy what time they had together until then.
Tina was rarely late.
Occasionally she had been late for a class at Ilvermorny or even a few minutes later than usual to work (especially after she had first moved to England and had been getting used to the Ministry), but she was almost always on time for things. She was practical, after all, and planned out these kinds of things – she was never late for things she didn't plan either, her body in tune with everything she needed to do.
Like this. She had never been late having her period, for example, not once.
But she was this month.
She wasn't stupid at all, of course, she knew what this could have meant – but still she hoped that she was wrong for once, that it was just stress and a lack of sleep. They had been careful enough to avoid this, she thought, using a contraceptive potion that had a high efficiency.
Nothing was a hundred percent, though, not even in the wizarding world.
Tina liked children, she honestly did: she adored her nephew, had been more than pleased when she had heard that her sister was planning on more children, and she had even started to think about how to approach Newt about starting their own family – once the war was over, that was.
A war was no time to bring a baby into the world, especially not if you were an Auror being trained to fight. The world seemed so dark and dangerous currently that the thought of having a baby – raising a child – was unfathomable.
Despite her dread, Tina contacted St Mungo's hospital for an emergency appointment one evening after work – she had to know as soon as possible, she reasoned, had to know so that she could decide what to do and talk to Newt about it if the results were positive. She couldn't quite decide how she would react if it was true, if she really was pregnant.
The Healer was nice enough, asking her personal questions as kindly as she could, and then when she had examined Tina she had been gentle with her wand, using it to scan and probe carefully. After a few minutes of the examination, the Healer sighed and lowered her wand.
"So?" Tina asked, voice barely above a whisper. "Am I…?" She couldn't get the word out without wanting to cry.
The Healer sat down opposite her, reaching for her notes and a quill. "No, dear, you're not."
"And that's…that's certain?"
"Yes," The older woman agreed. "You're not pregnant – you're healthy enough if you did wish to have a child, of course, but at this current time…no. I believe your symptoms are stress-related."
Tina burst into tears – it was only later, when she had gone home and gone to bed, that she questioned whether it was from relief or disappointment.
Flourish and Blotts had become one of her favourite stores to visit in Diagon Alley – inside it was just like any other bookshop, and sometimes she pretended for a second – only a second – that she was in a bookshop in New York again. She felt guilty for feeling it because she did love being married to Newt and living here, but she did also miss her sister and the things she had grown accustom to in America.
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them was stacked at the front of the store again – another new edition, she mused – and there were a few people thumbing through it. She still felt a surge of pride when she saw her husband's name printed on the front, even more so since they had been married. It hadn't escaped her attention that her name was in later editions too, in the back pages about the author. It was a secret thrill to read the words, "Scamander now lives in the countryside with his wife, Porpentina", though she'd never admit it.
(On that note, she cringed at the sight of her full name; she'd have to ask Newt if it was possible to change it in future editions – and there were sure to be many more editions)
The shopkeeper sent her a friendly smile when he noticed her, which she returned before going to the back of the store: the children's books were here, and she wanted to pick up a present for Jacob and Queenie's son (now lovingly named Tobias). Her nephew was only a year old, but a nice children's book could be useful for many years to come, she reasoned.
She was humming to herself as she scanned the rows of books, from The Tales of Beedle the Bard to The Toadstool Tales, when she heard giggling; turning her attention for just a moment, she noticed that two children – a boy and a girl – were playing behind the book-stacks. She couldn't help but smile at the sight of them, amused by their antics.
Tina suddenly noticed that a woman was talking to her, and she refocused her attention; the woman was rather short but friendly-looking, plump, and had a small boy clutching her skirts from next to her.
"I'm sorry to bother you," The woman continued, tilting her head with a somewhat shy smile. "But you're Newton Scamander's wife, aren't you?"
Tina tried not to go pink. "Yes. I am."
"I thought so. I'm sorry, again, for bothering you, but I just wanted to tell you that my son is a huge fan of your husband's book – he's forever reading it! He wants to become a Magizoologist, just like Mr Scamander."
"Oh. That's wonderful to hear," Tina said politely, putting on a small smile as she looked down at the boy; he hid his face in his mother's skirt. "Newt will be thrilled to hear that children are enjoying his book – all the more that he's inspired your son to want to study creatures too."
It wasn't a lie – she knew that her husband was keen for future generations to learn how to care for these creatures as opposed to fearing or killing them, and though he hated the attention that came from publishing his book she had no doubts he would be pleased with the impact.
The boy lifted his face and smiled at her – he had a front tooth missing, she noted. "My favourite is the Niffler!"
She couldn't help but laugh fondly. "Yes, Nifflers are cute – our one can be a pest sometimes, but he's loveable all the same. Newt tries not to have favourites, of course, but I think he has a particular fondness of one of the Bowtruckles – it stays in his pocket constantly."
"I like Bowtruckles!" The boy exclaimed eagerly, lighting up completely. "There's a tree in our garden!"
Tina couldn't help but smile along with him, suddenly rather invested in this conversation. "My husband has named all of ours – the one in his coat is called Pickett. Have you named any of yours?"
"Some of them," He agreed with a nod. "I named one of them Newton, because Newton is the name of my favourite author!"
Her heart warmed at this proclamation; he was only young, of course, barely six or seven – but his genuine love of what he was talking about was just adorable.
The boy was still talking, looking up at her. "…Are you his wife?" When she nodded, he beamed. "Okay! My Bowtruckle Newton has a best friend who my mummy says is a girl-Bowtruckle…Can I name that one after you?"
"Oh. Erm. Sure," Tina said, rather taken aback by this sudden question. "If you want to. It's Porpentina…my name, that is."
"Actually, just Tina is fine," She amended hurriedly, silently cursing her ridiculous first name.
The boy grinned. "Okay. Thanks, Mr-Scamander's-Wife-Tina!"
"Thank you for your time," His mother said politely with a kind smile. "I think you may have just made his day."
As the mother and son walked away (the boy still chattering excitedly), Tina couldn't help but watch them; it seemed strange to be approached like that in the middle of a bookstore, for a young boy to ask her questions like that. He had seemed sweet, though, and she couldn't help the smile on her face at how excited he had gotten at the mention of her husband, at the mention of the creatures.
Suddenly an image flashed across her mind: a little boy or girl down in the case, giggling as they ran around, eyes full of wonder as Newt carefully helped them hold an Occamy hatchling or a new-born Graphorn, absolutely thrilled with the world around them.
No, don't be silly, She told herself quickly, trying to clear the image from her brain: There will be time for that later, remember? We're going to wait.
But it wouldn't leave her alone, not when she returned to her shopping, not when she went to pay for a book, not even when she apparated home and went down into the case to help Newt with their creatures. It stayed in her mind for some reason, burned there, no matter how hard she tried to think of something else.
It wasn't possible, she had to remind herself, at least not yet; they hadn't even been married a year, and to have a baby in the middle of a war would be irresponsible. No, she forced herself to think, not yet.
"Teenie, if you just asked him…"
"I'm not having this conversation," Tina interrupted, not even looking at her sister – though her cheeks had gone slightly pink. "Really, Queenie, it's fine. We didn't come to visit so that you could lecture me."
Queenie was completely unperturbed by this. "Of course not. It's just that…I can tell how badly you want this, Tina. It's all you've been thinking about since you arrived."
They had come to visit New York for just a few days in order to celebrate Tobias' first birthday – it was only a small affair, of course, just a quiet afternoon with family and some of Jacob's delicious pastries. It was the closest thing to a holiday Newt and Tina were going to get, it seemed, as the Ministry had tightened security when it came to traveling out of the country; it was the first time they had seen Jacob and Queenie in nearly a year, and they had missed them very much.
All of this considered, Tina still didn't appreciate having her more secretive thoughts read by her younger sister.
"It's hardly a secret if you're thinking it all the time."
Tina groaned and tried to block her mind from her sister. "Honestly, just leave it, Queenie."
"I don't know why you're so defensive about it," Queenie tutted, shaking her head to herself as she flicked her wand at the kitchen cupboard; two mugs flew out and landed beside the kitchen sink. "I'm sure Newt would be more than thrilled to hear that you want to start a family – and he would make a wonderful father, you know."
Even she couldn't deny that. "No, he would," She sighed, taking a seat at the kitchen table whilst her sister finished preparing their coffee. "It's not like that, Queenie, it's just…it's not really the best time to have a baby. We've only been married for…for…"
"You've been married for a year, honey," Queenie reminded her. "Jacob and I were married for barely six months when we found out Toby was on the way."
"Well…there's the war," Tina stated with a frown. "It would hardly be practical to have a baby of all things to worry about as well as a war." When her sister raised an eyebrow, she backtracked. "You know I don't mean it like that: America isn't really involved in this war, at least not yet and not like Britain is – besides, neither of you are Aurors who'll need to fight."
Her younger sister sent the cups of coffee to the table before taking a seat. "I know what you meant. Tina, honey, you can't be waiting for this war to end just to start living – at the rate things are going, it could be years before it all ends…and then it'll take even longer for everything to go back to how they were. If you wait until then, it could be too late."
She had a good point, and Tina knew it; she looked down at her mug as she digested what her sister had said, trying to sort through her emotions and thoughts without giving away how she was feeling (though her sister would know – she always knew). If only it were that simple, she mused, deciding to have a baby with a war on the rise – two wars, counting the muggle one. But something Queenie had said had struck a chord with her: it could be too late. She remembered going to St. Mungo's, terrified she was pregnant, only to be both relieved and disappointed when she wasn't – a confusing mix of feelings.
Queenie let out a gasp. "Oh, Teenie…I'm sorry, I didn't know…"
"It's fine," Tina said quietly, lifting her head and giving her sister a weak half-hearted smile. "Honestly, it's not that big a deal."
"Did you tell him?"
"There's nothing to tell."
Queenie leaned forwards, putting a hand on her sister's arm. "Tina, he would want to know – especially as it's causing you so much heartache." She hesitated for a moment, clearly debating whether she should go on. "I know you've seen the way he acts around Toby, that you think he'd be a great father someday. I also know that…that he thinks about it too sometimes. Not in detail, but sometimes he has a passing thought about it; he thinks about how nice it would be, Teenie, how happy he would be to get to teach them about his creatures. I think he wants it just as much as you do, but he's too nervous to bring it up."
"Really?" Tina's voice was soft, almost weak, as she considered everything her sister had told her. For a moment she allowed herself to enjoy that image – the one of Newt with a child in the case – and she involuntarily smiled to herself. Somehow it didn't seem so impossible, she decided, not if Newt was wanting it too – it could be discussed, at the very least.
Queenie was beaming suddenly, clearly pleased with the change in Tina's thoughts. "Yes, talk to him about it, Teenie! I'm sure it will all work out in the end, you'll see."
"It won't be until after we go home," Tina said, trying to be serious again. "And I'll probably leave it a couple of days, just to make sure we're settled back in after travelling..."
"But you'll talk to him." It wasn't a question – Queenie knew the answer for herself.
All the same, Tina smiled as she lifted her mug. "I'll talk to him."
It didn't get discussed, actually, because the day after they got back from America there was an attack in a small town on the outskirts of South-East London. Tina had been called to investigate early that morning, being one of the most proficient Aurors in the department, and she listened intently as Dawkins – one of the other Aurors dispatched – relayed information to her regarding the attack.
"Awful, just awful…" He muttered, shaking his head. "Tina, this whole muggle family just…murdered. For a one-off attack, there's four casualties – the muggles living nearby are going to know, and it's going to take a lot of obliviating to be sure that we're not exposed."
These 'one-off' attacks were getting more and more common, however; fanatics of Grindelwald were growing braver, taking more risks to make a statement – and it was honestly terrifying.
The memory would haunt Tina for many sleepless nights to come; the bodies were still there, the muggle policemen having not yet arrived, and the sight of them chilled her. All four family members – the parents and two girls – had been tucked into their beds, as if they were sleeping, and at first it may have looked that way…but then there was the blood splattered across the bedroom walls and staining the sheets, the scorch marks of some kind of curse burned into the doorway.
"Thankfully there's a wizard living nearby," Dawkins stated, though he looked ready to throw up. "He saw the flashing of the spells about an hour ago and alerted the Ministry immediately. There's no leads or anything…but Ministry protocol requires that we look, all the same."
The police arrived roughly five minutes earlier, closely followed by an ambulance; every single one of the muggles looked perplexed and horrified, so much so that they didn't bother to question the presence of Tina and Dawkins.
"Do we need to obliviate them?" Tina asked quietly, watching as two policemen gently lifted the younger of the little girls from her bed.
"No," He told her slowly, examining the room carefully for anything that might have been missed. "It's the neighbours we have to worry about; we'll need to make our rounds on all the streets nearby, question people and see what they know. Hopefully everyone would have been in bed at the time, but we have to be sure."
The paramedics had lifted the older of the girls from her bed now, and Tina felt her throat close up at the sight of the two bodies lined up on the floor together, ready to be taken to a nearby morgue; the little one had been dark-haired, barely six, her older sister very blonde and probably only nine or ten. For some reason, she thought of herself and Queenie – the acid in her stomach bubbled unpleasantly.
It took the entirety of the rest of the day to question all of the muggles living nearby; thankfully only six of them had to be obliviated, but it was still exhausting to have to question every one of them. By the end of it, Tina just wanted to go home and curl up in bed – though she was certain that she was going to be plagued with nightmares no matter what she did.
Newt was out of the case and in the kitchen of their home when she returned; he smiled at her in greeting and gestured to the kettle he had been boiling. "I was just going to make some tea and sit with Dougal for a little bit. How was…" He trailed off at the look on her face, realizing immediately that something was wrong. "Tina? It was worse than usual, wasn't it?"
Tina couldn't look at him, the sight of the two little girls still in her mind. "Yes. Yes, it was."
"Oh." Newt silently conjured another cup from the cupboard overhead and placed it next to his own. "I'll make some tea, and we'll both go and sit down in the case together. We can talk about it then, if you want."
She didn't want to, and he probably knew that, but it was more the offer than anything else.
Down in the case, the sun was just beginning to set – the creatures were probably going to be sleeping soon, and there was a low calm quiet in the air. When the two of them sat down, facing the fading light, Dougal appeared and immediately sat down beside Tina; he looked at her, eyes wide as he studied her carefully.
"I think he missed your story time session," Newt mused quietly, giving his wife a small smile. "He was wandering around near the Occamy nest for quite a while, and I suspect it's because he thought you were going to come down with a book."
"I'm sorry I wasn't here," Tina murmured to Dougal, resting a hand in his fur. "I'll read tomorrow."
Newt was silent for a moment, studying the vast interior of his case from afar, before he gave a small sigh. "I…I know there was an attack, and I knew that you'd be there when I woke up without you in bed this morning…I know it must have been especially awful to have left you this unhappy."
Tina gnawed her bottom lip, one hand clutching her mug of tea and the other gently stroking Dougal's fur. "A family of four muggles – they were murdered in their beds…whoever did it left without a trace." She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. "There were two little girls, Newt: two little girls, both younger than ten…and they were killed so brutally, so violently…"
She felt his hand on her arm, a small comfort. "That's…that's dreadful," He said quietly, both sympathetic and saddened. "It's terrible that…that someone would do something like that."
It wasn't the first attack, and it certainly wouldn't be the last – but it still left Tina horrified, all the same. She knew she'd have nightmares about it for a good few weeks – perhaps even months – and that she'd remember it for the rest of her life.
It was hard to think about bringing up the topic of babies and children now, she thought, having seen something like that: it seemed wrong to want to have such a conversation now. No, she decided, she wouldn't – couldn't – ask just yet, not with that fresh in her mind.
Queenie wrote a month later, her excitement spilling from the parchment, to tell them that she and Jacob were expecting another child in the spring of the next year.
"That's marvellous for them," Newt had commented when Tina had shown him the letter, grinning to himself. "It'll be nice for Toby to have someone to play with, I imagine…though, having said that, there's no telling what they might get up to when they're both older."
"Yes," Tina agreed, also smiling at the news; her sister made a wonderful mother, after all, and she herself was pleased to hear that she'd have another nephew or niece. "I know Queenie was planning on another baby soon."
Newt hummed to himself, hiding his chuckles. "She's very good at getting what she wants, I must say, especially where Jacob is concerned. Having said that, we'll have to hope that he doesn't faint this time around."
"Actually, I'm convinced Queenie preferred him fainting," Tina mused, reaching for that morning's edition of The Daily Prophet. "It kept him out of the way for most of the birth."
One habit that Tina had happily found herself falling into over the years had been to come down to the case with a book – sometimes two – and read to the creatures. It may have sounded ridiculous to some – but having seen her husband refer to himself as "mummy" on several occasions and weeping over new-born beasts, this routine seemed more than normal for them.
As expected, Dougal was waiting expectantly by the Occamy nest for her that late December afternoon; he let out a noise akin to a mewl as she sat down, tucking himself beside her. Tina could only smile at him affectionately before turning her attention to the Occamies. "Alright, I've brought The Tales of Beedle the Bard again – how about we read Babbitty Rabbitty today?"
They didn't respond, of course, but that was only to be expected; she opened her copy of the book, cleared her throat, and started to read. "A long time ago, in a far-off land, there lived a foolish king who decided that he alone should have the power of magic…"
Reading aloud had become therapeutic to Tina, especially after she had moved from America to England; back in New York, she had taken to reading to herself after work while curled up in bed with a cup of cocoa – now she read to the beasts down in the case, and it was easy to forget if she'd had a bad day when she did this. Dougal had become her most devoted listener, she discovered, rarely missing a chance to listen; the Bowtruckles were quiet listeners too, she had found, but she had to be wary with the other creatures – if they were having a bad day, it was wise not to bother some of them.
She had kept a safe distance from the Occamy nest today – away from the egg shells littering the habitat – so thankfully they had all settled down easily enough on this evening. Whether or not they were actually listening…well, Tina couldn't be sure, but it was still nice to sit and read to them all the same.
"…The charlatan performed a few simple tricks, which convinced the foolish King of his magical powers, and was immediately appointed Grand Sorcerer in Chief, the King's Private Magic Master."
Dougal slowly reached to place a stray bug in the Occamy nest; one of the serpentine creatures snatched it up in their jaws, the others crying out for more quietly.
"I'm sure there's enough to go around," Tina said fondly to them before nodding at Dougal. "You'll find more, won't you?" The Demiguise was already searching for more bugs on the ground, clutching them between his fingers carefully. Satisfied with this, Tina settled back into reading from the book. "Alright… The charlatan bade the King give him a large sack of gold, so that he might purchase wands and other magical necessities…"
The light inside the case was starting to get dimmer, she noted, and it wouldn't be long until her husband would start making his rounds to be sure everyone was settled for the night. Dougal was warm and soft beside her, listening keenly to her voice as she spoke even as his eyes drifted to the Occamies in the nest.
It happened so suddenly that Tina wasn't quite sure what was going on at first; out of nowhere her stomach twisted sharply, and she felt nauseous. Stammering on her words, she clutched the book in her hands and tried not to gag at the sudden bile bubbling in her stomach.
Dougal let out a small cry of alarm, placing a furry hand on her arm gently; he studied her, eyes wide, as she closed her eyes and started to breathe deeply.
"I'm fine," She muttered to him when the wave started to pass. "I don't know what came over me…I must have eaten something off at lunch." Dougal was still staring at her inquisitively, silent but thoughtful. "I think I'll finish the story and head back up…come on, there's not that much left to read."
The sick feeling in her abdomen faded gradually, though not completely, as she shakily finished reading the end of the story; the Occamies had curled up in coils by this time, somewhat placated, and Dougal was still calmly staring at her. He obliged when she gently ushered him back into his nest, though his eyes stayed focused on her until she had walked down the path back to the shed.
Perhaps I'm just exhausted, Tina thought, and it made sense: all of the Aurors had been subjected to extra training over the past few weeks to improve both their duelling skills and their vigilance. There hadn't been any major attacks in the past month either, but that didn't mean that the threat was gone. Her body was aching from the early mornings followed by late evenings, and all she wanted to do was sleep. With that in mind, however, it wouldn't have surprised her if the nausea had been related to an empty stomach as well: though she'd had lunch that day, it hadn't been particularly large or fulfilling.
Right, She told herself tiredly as she clambered out of the case and into the living room of the house, First some food and then a good night's sleep.
She had been reading to the Bowtruckles a few days later when her vision went dark and the world started to spin; she dropped her book out of shock, hurriedly reaching to grip onto the Bowtruckles' tree to steady herself. Dougal was immediately examining her again, both with concern and a certain amount of curiosity.
The dizzy spell passed rather quickly, lasting no more than a minute or so, but when she sat up again she realized that the Bowtruckles were shrieking intelligibly at her – she had grabbed their tree, after all.
"Sorry," She apologized immediately, scooting back on the ground to give them some space. "I just needed to steady myself…just for a moment…"
Dougal had been staring at her again – and then his eyes shifted blue; though not as well-versed with the creatures as her husband, Tina knew that this meant the Demiguise was having a premonition of some kind. Despite knowing she'd never find out what he was seeing, she still felt herself intrigued at the sight of it.
Dougal's eyes shifted back to brown rather quickly, and he looked over at her; his expression was even more curious now, even somewhat tentative.
"Are you going to try to mother me?" Tina found herself joking half-heartedly, forcing herself to smile as she stood up. "I think Newt might have something to say about that, don't you?"
She had bent to pick up her copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, wincing at the slight ache in her back, when a furry paw suddenly reached out and gripped her hand in his tightly.
Tina could only blink as she looked down at the Demiguise. "Dougal? Is everything alright?"
He didn't answer, of course, at least not vocally (though she was certain that he looked somewhat wistful now) – instead he started to lead her back towards the shed carefully, his hand still clutching her own.
"You are trying to mother me," She muttered to herself, and she didn't have the heart to stop him. "Alright. Fine. But you're not leaving the case – you know the rules. Newt would have a fit if any of you got out without his permission again."
The artificial sun had started to set inside the case, casting a warm glow on all of the habitats nearby; in the distance, Tina could see Newt gently rubbing the rump of the erumpent – perhaps she was in season again, Tina mused. Dougal's grip on her hand didn't loosen at all during their walk up the path, and he seemed somewhat distracted until they reached the door of the shed.
"Thank you, Dougal," Tina said politely, trying to extract herself from his grip. "I appreciate it…though I don't think I need walking around like a toddler, it was very kind of you, all the same."
Dougal gazed up at her face for a long moment before looking at her midsection; his eyes were wide with wonder all of a sudden as he stared. All Tina could do was watch as he cast another quick glance up at her face before returning his attention to her abdomen; she found herself confused but intrigued as to what on earth he was doing.
Slowly, Dougal lifted his hand and placed it on Tina's stomach.
"What are you...?"
And then it hit her.
"You…" Her voice had dropped to a whisper. "Is that what you saw back there? Did you see…?"
Dougal's wizened face was curious as he continued to stare at her belly, as if he were thinking about something he'd seen before – something to come.
Tina felt her head pounding as she took the information in, absolutely stunned. "No…No, it's probably not that," She muttered to herself hurriedly, trying to process the thoughts in her head. "It's probably just…just a lack of sleep, a lack of food, severe stress…it wouldn't be…"
But the Demiguise's intense gaze was starting to convince her that this was very much real; his sudden mothering made sense, she realized, for he had been trying to look after not only her but also perhaps an unborn baby.
This was real.
"Mercy Lewis," She muttered to herself, absolutely breathless by this realization. "I need to…I need to be sure…I need to go to a Healer, o-or get some tests done…or something…"
Without hesitating she strode over to the door of the shed and flung it open; it was only when she was standing in the doorway that she remembered the Demiguise behind her.
"Dougal…thank you," Tina found herself murmuring, turning to give him a small half-hearted smile. "Thank you."
They had been walking in the case the next evening, just the two of them hand-in-hand, enjoying the company of each other and their creatures as the artificial sunset turned golden before them. They walked until they reached a small wooded area quite a way off that was reserved for any other creatures they happened to find, before Tina stopped and finally looked at Newt; she looked somewhat nervous, he reflected, gnawing on her lip as she debated on what to say.
"I spoke to a healer this morning," She said finally, voice quiet. "She did a lot of spells and tests on me just to cover all of what it could be."
"And? Did she know?"
There was a very long moment of silence – and then Tina smiled so radiantly it was almost disarming. "I'm pregnant. Newt…We're going to have a baby."
She watched as his mouth fell open just a small bit, eyes wide as he took this information in; for a moment he appeared to want to talk, to say something, and she was eager to hear what he would say.
But then his eyes flooded with tears.
Before she could fully comprehend what was going on, he had scooped her up into his arms, sobbing loudly against her as he pushed his face into her stomach.
"Newt!" She cried out in alarm. "What's the matter? Is something wrong?" But Newt just shook his head, mouthing wordlessly against her – for a moment, she worried that she had caused him to go into shock. "Why are you crying? Have I upset you?"
"No," He disagreed, choking on his words. "I just…Thank you, Tina. Thank you so much."
Newt looked up at her, and through his tears he was grinning and laughing to himself, almost delirious. "Just…thank you. You are…everything, you know that? You are amazing and perfect and…and thank you for this. How many months?"
Tina pulled him up so that he was standing, and his hands flew to cup her still-flat abdomen, to cradle it gently. "I'm not very far along – the Healer said about ten weeks, maybe eleven. She said I'm probably going to be due in June, so we've got a while yet."
"That's fine," Newt told her eagerly. "That's better than fine, it's perfect. We'll have to tell everyone right away, and…and we'll have to decorate a room, of course, to have as a nursery of some kind…"
"So you're pleased, I take it?" She asked teasingly with a knowing smile.
Newt grinned back crookedly through the tears streaking down his cheeks. "Tina…I am so, so, unbelievably happy right now."
They didn't speak of the war – they both knew it was coming better than anyone. No, the war suddenly seemed of little importance now, knowing that they were going to bring a new life into this world.
Again, I'm trying hard to make them not OOC - you'd think it would be easy, considering I've seen the movie five times (it'll be six after I go on Thursday with my dad). Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!