Part 3

Solitude, Newt is convinced, was probably his first language. He'd always favored being alone or with creatures (ideally, being alone with creatures) for as long as he could remember, so much so that he can now boast of having made a career out of it. Not every animal-loving loner outcast is so lucky.

But solitude is different after New York. It becomes less of a relief and transforms into something deeper, sadder - loneliness. A very specific kind of loneliness. It envelopes Newt, thick and woolly and dark, and he finds himself out of any and all compelling reasons to leave his home, even at the persistence of his brother and the affectionate concern of his mother. He devotes himself to his work and his animals, hoping that over time, it'll transform into a salve and help close the wound.

Sometimes, at night, he wonders about Tina. He imagines her happy. He wonders if Madame Picquery had ended up keeping her on the team, after all. He nearly gets up to grab a piece of parchment, to send off that letter of recommendation – but Newt stops himself, and he tightly shuts his eyes.

And he makes himself let go.

ooo

I know you're reading my letters, Newt. I need you to come to the Ministry. Foul stirrings with the giants again. Don't make me lock you in your case and bring you over here myself.

Newt is not exactly enthused about it, but after two months of absolutely zero social interaction, he makes himself somewhat presentable and makes it out to the Ministry under the blatant threat of kidnapping from his dear brother. The truth is, Newt finds the thought of going back to the giants rather appealing. It would be a good distraction, he thinks, even with the risk of maiming and possible death.

Newt enters the thirtieth floor reserved for the Auror offices with no fanfare. Auror types were not the fawning type. Whatever glances they spare Newt's way is brief and filled with disinterest.

Theseus is out of his office and chatting over someone's desk when Newt approaches him. He clears his throat.

"There you are," Theseus chortles. "I was starting to think one of your creatures had devoured you."

"That's ridiculous. There are very few creatures who find the taste of human flesh appealing."

This, of course, means nothing to Theseus. "Yes, well. Jolly good to know. Let's go into my office." Suddenly, Theseus's eyes land on something behind Newt, and he sighs. "But first, let me introduce you to our newest Auror. Came all the way from America – highly recommended from Picquery. When the news got out in the press about all the bloodshed from the giant rebellion, it scared away a lot of the new recruits, so. Luckily for the Ministry, news travels slower when it has to cross the Atlantic Ocean."

An insufferable habit - Theseus loved to introduce Newt to the new Aurors at the Ministry. He thinks this is because Theseus is still convinced that one day, Newt will wake up and realize his true professional happiness had actually depended on the grit and good work of being an Auror all along.

Theseus knew better, of course, but there was no stopping Theseus Scamander from inconveniencing his brother in the most trivial of ways.

Newt, interested only in getting to the bit about the giants, turns around.

A slender, bobbed brunette with smiling eyes holds out her hand to him.

Newt's heart grows rapidly to fill the entire expanse of his chest.

"This is Miss Porpentina—?" Theseus trails off, having already forgotten the name of his newest Auror.

"Goldstein," she says.

Newt feels the whole universe exhale with him.

ooo

A few months later

Theseus Scamander stares suspiciously at the envelope his brother has placed at the very center of his mahogany desk.

"I wanted to deliver yours in person," Newt tells him, slightly out of breath. Theseus does not tell him this, but Newt's newfound happiness both relieves and unnerves him. It is difficult to get used to, this Newt. It was not a bad Newt. It was not even a completely different Newt. Just… Newt in love. Happily in love.

With an Auror, no less.

Newt walks towards the door of his office before he stops and turns back around, as if suddenly remembering something.

"Oh, and don't be alarmed – there'll be a hot dog stand at the ceremony," Newt tells him, hurriedly. "Have you ever had a hot dog from New York? Don't worry, they're quite good."

Then, without a goodbye, his brother turns around and leaves his office. Theseus pins a finger down on the white envelope and slides it over to himself, opening the flap.

He is only alone for a few seconds when he is visited, yet again, by the sound of footsteps. Newt is back – or, at least, his head is. Just his head, jutting into his office from the doorway. His eyes sparkle delightedly. "Oh, and I'll be in a blue suit."

Then he is gone. For good this time, Theseus thinks, and he opens up the envelope and carefully pulls out the invitation.

You are cordially invited
to the wedding of
Porpentina Esther Goldstein and Newt Artemis Fido Scamander

Theseus leans back in his seat and begins chuckling to himself. "Belinda, will you please get Tina in here?" he calls out to his secretary. He mutters to himself, still smiling. "I'd like to congratulate my future sister-in-law."

Belinda doesn't miss a beat. "Right away, Mr. Scamander."

Fin.

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