Greetings Readers,

Just wanted to let you know that we are looking at roughly 21 chapters total. My goal is to have everything done before The Crimes of Grindelwald comes out and none of my materials are even slightly cannon anymore.

Thanks for reading and sticking with me.

March 22nd, 1927

Dearest Tina,

I am so utterly happy to hear that you and Queenie have found Jacob, and that he has his bakery. Your letter gave me so much happiness that I felt stunned after I read it. Also please don't worry yourself about the format or hastiness of the writing. It was the most perfect letter.

I cannot get over my feeling of excitement regarding Jacob. Oh, how I wish I was there. I knew it. I just knew that he would be successful, if he was just given the chance. So he is baking items in the shape of magical creatures? That is very odd. Fascinating, really remarkable. What do they look like? What kind of details has he included? Did he make a swooping evil? Merlin's beard, this is amazing.

Obviously he must not have forgotten everything. This is astounding. I knew it was risky using an untested venom on suck a large scale, however, at the moment, I didn't know what else to do. In retrospect it was reckless, and I wonder how many other people might remember things in the back of their minds. I cannot help but wonder how the Shaw family is dealing with the death of the Senator.

It seems like a good idea to be cautious about revealing too much of the past to Jacob at once, I honestly don't know what would happen to him.

Your letter came in such good time because I was able to speak with Albus the evening of the part about Jacob's memories. Albus speculated that it is possible that Jacob retained some of his memories because of how much exposer he had… well, to us, I guess. It is possible that the venom is more effective on short term memories than long term memories. For example, Jacob remembers the creatures in my case, because they were one of the first things we did together once the murtlap was out of his system. It was also probably a pretty fantastical sight for a muggle.

This memory and his memory of the first time he met Queenie were probably committed to his long term memory before the venom was in his system.

Albus also suggested the murtlap bite might have effected how the swooping evil venom works too.

Another possibility is that Jacob thinks what he is remembering is a dream. Or that his brain has rewired those memories into what he believes are old dreams.

It is also possible that Jacob has a stronger mind than most people.

So you can see that I don't really have an answer for you and I am sorry about that.

I would suggest keeping a ear to the ground for any other individuals who might start having memories return. I am concerned that maybe it was too diluted, or possibly too strong? It was a last minute idea on some major damage control.

It is also disconcerting that Gnarlak knew of the bakery. I wonder if he had someone tip him off to it. There really needs to be some kind of protection over that place. It's dangerous, as I am sure you are completely aware.

Speaking of Gnarlak, I'm frankly surprised he wanted to have a meeting with you. I understand that you brush with death has made you bolder, but it has made me weaker. My stomach dropped to my feet when I read about your meeting with him. I will admit that it is very hard for me, worrying about you. I would never tell you to stop doing what you are doing. You love your work and I would never ask you to stop, but, is it wrong to admit that I am afraid. I really believe that if you worry you suffer twice, however, with you and your work it is hard.

I'm so sorry. I feel terrible guilty admitting to you that I am concerned about you. I know you are smart, strong, and talented and you can handle anything that comes your way.

Anyways, back to the point. I cannot wait to see what you will send me from Jacob's bakery.

My dear Tina, this was such a strange and interesting week for me.

There are parts of it which are so common and normal that is seem unremarkable but then there are bits and pieces, conversations and snippets that just seem so out of place. You've confided in me so honestly and open-heartedly about everything you've been through, and, I hope this is not presumptuous to ask, but would you mind if I sorted out my thoughts to you?

I have a feeling you will tell me that there is no need to ask, however, I have been a solitary person for so long that I just wanted to check with you. There were a lot of things that were strange about this week and, it feels good but rather scary to tell you. It seems childish to say its scary, but being vulnerable with people is scary for me.

When it comes to my creatures, I have no fear. I can handle just about every situation, even if that involves protecting myself with my traveling tea kettle. However, people, I can't predict. I don't feel confident with most people. I think that is partly why I wanted you at my book preview, because if you were there, I would have one person I felt comfortable and confident with.

So I guess, I should start actually explaining what happened rather then just continuing to ramble on.

As you know, Saturday the 19th was my book pre-release party at Flourish and Blott's, which is the largest magical book store in Diagon Alley. The party, I would say, was a success.

Your letter arrived two hours before the party started, and I was lucky enough to read your long and lovely letter before the evening started. You are too good to me. You ended your letter with everything I needed to feel assured about the evening. It was a great comfort to know you were out there in the world thinking of me, while my event was happening.

Albus came and brought is friend Nicolas Flamel, who is a famous alchemist and his wife Perenelle. We all met up at the end of the evening at the Leaky cauldron.

My parents both came, along with my brother. He brought a Miss. Hazel Cole with him, who I guess is a famous singer. I didn't want to mention that I had not heard of her, but since I spent most of the last two years out traveling the world, I do tend to miss out on some of the more popular treads.

Of course, I would like to think that my brother didn't mean to outshine me at my own event, but he did. It actually bothered me this time. In the past I was happy to share the publicity with him. I didn't want to attend the parties and ministry events, and when I was there he helped to draw the attention off me. I went to these events because I had too. However, that night was supposed to be about my work, and I did not appreciate it. There were quite a few reporters present, even a Mr. Landis who was writing for the New York Ghost. I gave him an extra detailed interview, knowing that his article would be the one you read.

The presence of Miss. Cole was not the only surprising presence. Leta Lestrange even made an appearance, with her family.

Actually, I am going about this all wrong. Let me start over. I want to start on Wednesday the 16th of March because that is where the the unpredictability starts.

Wednesday, my mother stopped by my office before lunch. Now, this isn't unheard of, but it is still not very common. Typically, she will send an owl before she shows up to make sure I am actually free for lunch. Yet on this day, she just showed up in my office at a quarter to noon, with her large gray wool coat with puffskine fur trimmed collar and cuffs.

For the record, I despise this coat. Puffskines are a harmless creature and should not be used in the trimming of hats and coats. I have told my mother this dozens of times, but this is her favorite, most fashionable coat. She swaps out her standard gray woolen coat for this monstrosity of outerwear when she wants to be seen. I should have known then that something was up.

Miss Easton, of course, was trying to convince my mother to stay in the office for lunch. She offered to get tea ready for the three of us. However, for some reason, my mother does not like Miss Easton. She doesn't say anything about not liking her, but I can tell. It is in the way she looks down her nose at her. Sometimes I think my mother should have been born a royal with how politely rude she can be.

Miss Easton is trying her hardest to win her over, but oddly enough that drives my mother away more. She even tried to talk to my mother about Hippogriffs, which is my mother favorite subject. However, oddly enough, my mother only wants to talk about you in front of Miss Easton.

'Newton' (she is the only one who calls me that, by the way) 'How is dear Miss. Goldstein? She sent me the most charming letter. I do hope she is recovering well. Amazing how brave these young aurors are.'

Normally my mother rarely talks about personal things. As I have said before, she is very English and very proper. For her, or at least, my understanding of her was that the most important things were her family pride and her Hippogriffs. So it was surprising to have her talk about you in front of someone else. This was the first thing that felt off about this week. I am really proud of you, and I do think you are amazingly brave. However, it kind of felt… gloating, the way my mother was saying it.

Miss Easton, of course, agreed with my mother and stated how she wished she could be as brave as you. However, she said that she was just "too delicate" for that type of lifestyle.

Oddly enough, this seemed to ruffle my mothers feathers and it was almost as if she got larger and more intimidating, or it was her large coat that made her appear that way.

Then my mother said to Miss Easton "I would rather admire a woman who regards herself as a noun and not an adjective."

My mother is very much like the hippogifts she breeds. She is polite, and if you are polite, you will be fine. However, if you are rude to her, you will most likely lose a limb. With that she turned on her heals and called "Come along Newton, we have plans."

I hastily grabbed my coat and glanced at Miss Easton as I left. This was another very strange moment in my week. She looked very angry.

Not wanting to be caught in the ire of either of them, I sped up to meet my mother.

Turns out, she made the trip to London, because she insisted on taking me shopping during my lunch hour.

She wanted to buy me a new dress robe before Saturday's party. I did tell her I was perfectly able to buy my own dress robes, but she stopped me and point blank asked me. "But Newton, WILL you buy a robe before Saturday?"

I honestly answered 'No' and reminded her I had a perfectly fine dress robe at home. She sniffed and said that everyone had already seen me in THAT dress robe. If I want to keep up our family reputation, I need a new one. With that she turned on her heels and that was the end of the conversation and we went shopping.

I do love my mother, honestly. However, I am 30 years old. I do not need my mother taking me to Madam Malkin's like I am a first year on his way to Hogwarts. It's embarrassing. I was embarrassed the first time my mother took me to get robes when I was 11. I was embarrassed when she took me there to get dress robes before the start of my 6th year at Hogwarts. Every time she made such a big deal about everything. The materials of the robes, the drape of the fabric, the lining of my cloak. Of course, all of this was in vain most of the time because all students are required to get a standard set of robes. However, dress robes were different. During my 6th year, we had a ball at Hogwarts, so my mother insisted on taking me shopping for robes of "quality" as she put it. When she had finally picked out my dress robes that last time, she looked at me and said "These robes should be perfect for your graduation."

Which, as you know, never came.

Actually, maybe my mother wanted to get me new dress robes because mine reminded her of the Hogwart's graduation that never happened. I had not thought of this before but since I was expelled, she has always disliked my dress robes. I thought it was because I wore my boots with them, or that they were slightly out of fashion, or both.

However, maybe there is a deeper reason. However, I am not sure. Tina, I don't know if I am reading too much into this.

The second we entered the shop, my mother shrugged my coat of me (and off-handedly remarked how heavy it was). I didn't want to tell her there were live mice in one of the pockets because I know she would have thrown in across the room and there are some very valuable life saving emergency potions in those pockets.

Yet, once I was freed of my coat, I was pretty much at the mercy of the shop assistant. The assistant tugged at my jumper, while a measuring tape was floating around taking measurements of my arms and legs.

My mother addressed the assistant as I stood there like a niffler who caught red handed stealing a jewel. I wasn't asked any questions about what I wanted to wear. It was rather belittling, and it felt like being 11 again. While I would not say I am the most fashionable bloke, I do know something about clothing. I have been dressing myself for years perfectly well. I finally got my chance to state that I preferred blues and earth tones, before my voice was lost to the chatter of dress robe finery.

Soon enough, my arms were loaded with several things to try on, while the shop assistant showed my mother several large and fashionable hats, also trimmed in puffskine fur to match her coat.

While I was in the back of the shop, wrangling different robes and tie combinations, and having my robes adjusted by a tailor. My mother "just happened" to run into Leta Lestrange's mother, Eudora Lestrange.

Now, my mother and Eudora were classmates at Hogwarts. They were in the same house, which was Slytherin. After school they lost touch for a while, Eudora married a man who was older than her. She was his third wife, and the one that lived the longest. There were lots of strange rumors about what happened to his first two wives. He wasn't very pleasant and he didn't keep the best company. His first wife died after Leta was born. His Second wife and child died together. His third wife had one child, Alexander.

It was a well known, but unspoken, understanding that my own father, A Hufflepuff, took a very strong dislike to Mr. Lestrange. So visits between the two friends after Hogwarts became few and far between.

When I came back from trying on my robes, (black robes with a navy silk vest and tie) my mother informed me that she invited the entire Lestrange family to Saturday's event. My mother knew Leta and I were friends back at Hogwarts, however, I never told her why we weren't friends anymore.

This was another moment in which things felt surreal. I actually thought for a moment, did someone jinx me? This can't be my life. You and I fought Grindelwald together and survived and that was more believable than my mother inviting hte Lestrange family to my book preview party.

I've never really talked about Leta with you. In one of your previous letters I believe if you asked me if the friend who had betrayed me was Leta Lestrange. I don't want to keep secrets from you, so I will tell you everything regarding my friendship with Leta Lestrange.

Leta and I became friends at Hogwarts. Of course, we had met once or twice as children, due to the occasional play date our mothers arranged. However, it wasn't until we were at Hogwarts when we became close.

We spent most of our days together. It started out as an unintentional friendships. Hufflepuffs and Slytherins had a fair few classes taught together. Leta got along with her classmates well enough. As did I, however I never had any really close friends in my house. People were nice enough to me, but as I said, I have always been…uncomfortable around most people. Most friendships I formed were due to need. I needed to be civil with the boys in my house, in my year, because we all bunked together in the basement at Hogwarts. We play quidditch together. One can't play gobstones or wizard's chess alone. However, I wasn't close with any of them.

Leta and I were often paired together during projects during our first two years. It is what happens when your house has an odd number of students and you aren't particularly close with any of them. Well, the same happened for Leta. She was also the odd one out. So we just started partnering up with each other instead of always searching for a partner in class. Being partners lead to studying together, and working on essays and assignments together.

We became even closer when we both opted to study Care of Magical Creatures in our third year and again at NEWT levels in our sixth year. We were both in the Magical Creatures club and we spent many afternoons searching the edge of the forest for Unicorn hairs and when the weather was warm, swimming around the lake looking for kelpies and grindylows.

It was the first semester of our 6th year, when things… became troublesome. Leta somehow acquired a jarvey over the summer holiday and decided to bring it back to Hogwarts with her. She had been…I guess the best way to describe it is torturing the little creature. Instead of simply transfiguring the poor thing (which you know is harmless) She was trying to see if she could genetically alter the jarvey.

Jarvey's are tiny, rather vulgar creatures, that look like a ferret. They talk, typically, but whatever she had done to the poor creature, had twisted it's little mind. It barely talked, it mainly growled. I tried to talk Leta out of keeping it, but I feared it was too… hurt to be returned to the wild. She was too proud to admit that she had done anything inhumane to the poor thing. Therefore she refused to put it down. She insisted that she could manage the creature. She insisted that I should trust her.

So against my better judgment, I did. I should have said something to someone about what was happening, but I didn't. I didn't want to lose Leta.

I don't know if it was an accident, or on purpose, but the jarvey got loose and attacked a fellow classmate. A very pretty and rather kind Gryffindor girl. Her name was Rebecca Smipkins, she was muggle born and her father ran a storefront in London selling shoes. We weren't close but we were both in ancient ruins and potions together and had been paired up a few times on projects. The jarvey scratched up her face, to the point it was unrecognizable and it has almost successfully removed her right eye before I was able to remove it from her face. I tried to stun the jarvey, but the spell had no effect. Whatever Leta did to the poor thing, I couldn't stop it with magic.

So, I killed it.

Tina, it was the first time I had ever killed a creature. It wasn't the last, but any time I have ever killed a creature was to put it out of suffering. However, I killed this jarvey out of fear and panic. It has been a burden I've carried with me since.

Leta just stood there, watching it all happened. It was horrible. Thankfully, several classmates were around. We got the nurse as fast as possible, and Rebecca was healed, at least physically. She asked to take some time off school, to be at home with her parents in muggle London. As you can imagine, her parents were furious. They thought they were sending their daughter to a safe place, of course, Headmaster Dippet approved her leave of absence. I never knew if she came back to Hogwarts, because if she did, I was already gone.

Her attack was practically my fault, since I knew she had brought the beast into the castle. I should have told the headmaster, or my head of house when I knew about it. Yet I didn't, because I didn't want to damage my friendship with Leta. For months, I carried a dangerous secret and that secret hurt more that just Leta.

When the jarvey got loose, I knew that Leta's family would not take kindly to what she had done. In the past, her interest in magical creatures had gotten her beaten by her father, more than once. She was his oldest, and she was to care on the honor of the family, and "play with monsters" as he called it, was not the way to do it. Actually, I am pretty sure her father would beat her for anything that let down his sense of family pride and magical bloodline. At Hogwart's she was safe, but during the summers I believe she became her father's punching bag.

Knowing that it was likely that her father would torture her, I took the blame for letting the creature into the castle. I never told anyone about what she did to the jarvey. I was then expelled from Hogwarts. I was almost of age, and the war hadn't begun yet, but it was bubbling to the surface. Professor Dumbledore vouched for me in front of the school commissioners. He stated that while it was wrong to know the creature was in the castle, he also reminded them that I had enough to sense to stop the creature by any means necessary. He said it was only because of my quick thinking that Rebecca Smipkins survived. Somehow, Dumbledore knew the truth about what happened. He asked me why I wouldn't tell the truth, but I couldn't tell him. So he did what he could for me.

However, I was going to be expelled no matter what. It was said that if I volunteered to serve in the war, I would be allowed to keep my wand and after a full tour of service, my record would be ex-sponged, and I would be allowed to retain my rights as trained, of-age, wand carrying wizard. However, I had to volunteer to serve in an a highly dangerous and experimental unit, the Ironbelly unit. My work with dragons is a story for another day.

After I was expelled, I never heard from her again. Leta, I mean. I heard from Rebecca. She sent me a letter from her parent's home in muggle London. She wrote to me that she knew the truth that it was Leta's creature, but that I must have had my reasons for protecting her. She said that she felt she owed her life to me, and she'd keep my secret, even thought she didn't understand why I would protect such a person. She did not think it was an accident the jarvey attacked her and that Leta had a strong dislike for her since we started at school together.

The letter from Rebecca was a nice reminder that I did what I needed to save someone life. I kept it with me during my time with the Ironbelly unit, mainly because I needed it to remind myself I did the right thing. There were times during the war when I needed to be reminded that sometimes things that seems wrong and horrible, were needed to save lives.

However, it didn't always feel like the right thing, especially since I didn't hear from Leta at all.

At first, I thought her family wasn't allowing her to speak to me. While on the on Eastern Front during the war, I hoped for a letter, but one never came. Two years after she had graduated, I heard that her father had died, and a side of me hoped that I would hear from her again. I sent her a letter, including my condolences regarding her father. She never wrote back. As the years went on, it became apparent that she decided not to speak to me of her own accord.

I think the worst moment was about five years ago. We saw each other in public, and when I went over to speak to her, she turned her back on me, as if she didn't know me. After a stunned moment I walked away, but I could hear her whispering to her friends that she didn't know who I was. It really hurt.

For her to ACTUALLY forget me, she would have needed a very strong oblivation spell. We were together almost everyday for the six years we were at Hogwarts together.

However, that is all in the past now. I don't really think of her often. When I do, it's often a sad experience, because she was my only real friend for many many years. Tina, that is the faithful narrative of my dealings with Leta Lestrange.

So to know that my mother had invited the whole Lestrange family to my book pre-release was a bit upsetting. It stirred up all these feelings in me I didn't understand. It kind of felt like my mother had betrayed me.

Yet I didn't expect them to show up. I really figured my mother was just happy to have a reason to show off her younger son. Of course, my parents never knew the truth of WHY I was expelled from Hogwarts. I never told them I was covering up for Leta. I never complained about my service in the war, because I knew, it could have been much worse. Not just for me, but also for Rebecca.

My mother and I parted ways after my new robes had been selected. They would be ready for me to pick up the next day. My mother did buy a new hat, much to my dismay.

When I got to work on Thursday, Miss. Easton had already arrived. Typically she arrives after me, since she only working a part-time shift. However, she was there with cinnamon raisins muffins for me. I had already had breakfast, so I declined the offered. However she insisted that I take a few with me. I didn't have the heart to tell her I loath raisins, so I took one and decided to pitch it in the bin when she left.

She inquired after my mother, and how shopping went. She wanted to know what my robes were going to look like an what color vest I was planning on wearing. Then she asked me about my book release party. I think she was hoping for an invitation. However, I didn't tell her that I thought it was open to the public. Maybe that was rude of me, but I thought if she came to the party she would just pester my mother all evening. She does have a strange obsession with my mother. She spent longer in my office than normal, which is saying a lot since she does tend to interrupt and stay for a while. She talked about the newest song by the singer Hazel Cole, and I tuned her out. I was thinking about Jacob actually. The muffins had made me think of a bakery.

When she finally left, I realized that I was about to be late for a meeting with Magical Law Enforcement and the department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Every month our three offices get together and discuss what trends we have been seeing. While some people feel these meetings are pointless, two years ago we discovered an underground trading ring of erumpant horns. The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes was having a strange streak of exploding homes, with no rhyme or reason behind it. At the same time the department of Magical Law Enforcement had received some communication about an underground trading ring of some dangerous substance. It was only dumb luck that I happened to be talking with William Weasley, who is a wizard who works in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, about the case when I recognized what was exploding.

From that point on, we have had our meeting monthly. After discussing a string of ashwinder fires (which had nothing to do with any crime or illegal activities), William Weasley and I went to lunch at The Leaky Cauldron. That is a tavern in Diagon Alley. We were going to meet the new owner, Tom and try out his fare. I had the Steak and kidney pie, and it was delicious.

Tom inherited The Leaky Cauldrons from his uncle, and I think it has been the longest running establishment in Diagon Alley. It is definitely a stop I will take you to when you come to London, I mean, if you ever come to London. Just about everyone comes through The Leaky Cauldron, from the famous to the infamous.

While eating, I mentioned to Weasley that our office had recently gotten a part time working.

He already knew about Miss. Easton. It appears he knew her oldest brother Marcus Easton, I guess they were friends at Hogwarts.

Weasley laughed and told me to watch out because Ms. Easton was out to earn her M-R-S. When I asked him what kind of certification that was, he laughed so hard he spilled his drink all over the table. He then slapped me on the back and said "On that's a good one Scamander". I laughed with him (since that seemed like the right thing to do) and we finished our lunch amiably. I invited Weasley to my book preview party, and he said he would happily be there if he could find a sitter for his kids. He has three children already and his wife is pregnant with their fourth. He told me he wants to have seven children!

Either way, in regards to the Miss Easton comment, I still have no idea what is was talking about. I assume he was talking about Muggle Relation Services, which is a part of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes at the Ministry, but if she was perusing Muggle studies, then why bother being in the beast division?

Anyways, I have been meaning to ask you about it. Honestly, I pretty much forgot about the whole interaction.

When I came back from lunch Miss Easton was waiting for me, with a cup of tea, and another muffin. Which I turned down again. She really is an insistent sort. For some reason the more she insists I should do something, the more resolved I become in NOT doing that thing. I am sure that is very pigheaded of me, but there is just something about way she keeps forcing me to do things.

At the end of the day, I had binned the three muffins Miss Easton had passed off to me. When I got home I sent a letter off to Albus and requested that, if he had time, to stop by for my book preview party. Then if he had time afterwords, to to me for a glass of brandy at the Leaky Cauldron.

Friday, by all accounts was unremarkable. I had picked up my dress robes and hung them out like my mother insisted I do. Even though the sale's witch guaranteed they wouldn't wrinkle. I worked on my remarks for the party on Saturday and then spent the evening mucking out the stalls in my case. I really do live an exciting life, I spend my Friday nights collecting dung. Either way.

On Saturday, I awoke after a terrible night's sleep. I was drenched in sweat and kept having nightmares the Grindelwald was standing in the audience laughing at me during my speech. Yes, I have to give a speech for the event which is enough to give a grown man nightmares.

However, Grindelwald being in the mix made it so much worse.

After I got myself out of bed, I spent a good amount of time taking care of the creatures in my case. I had a small bite toast and tea for lunch before getting ready for the preview party.

Then I got a great surprise. Your letter arrived!

I got the chance to sit down and read your letter through properly before my mother showed up.

She arrived around 5:30 to see how I was doing. The party didn't officially start until 7pm and I wasn't planning on arriving until 6:30. So why my mother arrived so early I wasn't sure why.

However, it was a pleasant visit. I took the advice from your letter and talked to my mother about …things. We discussed my career and how pleased my mother is with it. She said she had received a letter from you too.

I also got a chance to ask my mother how she and my father met. It turns out they met each other when my mom was fresh out of Hogwarts. My dad had been out of school for about four years, and their families had mutual friends. They had met a quidditch competition. At first, my mother thought my father was stuck up, she had tried to talked to him during the match, but he didn't say much. Well, it turns out he was so nervous because he thought my mother was so beautiful. He was afraid to say something stupid.

The next time they met, it was at a ball. My father had asked my mother to dance and she almost said no, but one of her friends dared her too, she said yes, and that is how my parents met.

I arrived at about 6:30 pm for the party. I had worn my new dress robes, however, I was wearing my boots (which I polished) and the socks you knitted me. I also had pinned your earring to my handkerchief. So I could always reach into my pocket and rub it I got nervous.

Ah, actually, now that I think about it, I don't think I ever told you this. But, in your first letter to me, you sent an earring. It was for my niffler, but…I never gave it to him. It is embarrassing to write, but I have been holding on to it, like a good luck charm. I'm sorry for not telling you the truth, however, it is a bit embarrassing to admit.

The party started off slowly, as everyone anticipated it would. It was agony, waiting for people to arrive. I felt like the turn out would be a predictor of my books success. At seven sharp there were about a dozen people milling around, and two of them were my parents. The rest were reporters. However by 8pm the store was getting quite crowded.

I gave a short little speech about how much support I had received from my work, publishers, family and friends. I did specifically cite you too. However, as I was about to invite guests to listen to a reading of my book, my brother entered the shop with the famous singer, Miss Hazel Cole, on his arm. He tried to look embarrassed about the bad timing, however the camera bulbs were flashing in their direction.

After the hubbub settled down, I did have a chance to read a few pages from my book and people seemed relatively interested in the content. However, many people had their attention turned to towards the newest couple in the crowd. Miss Cole and my brother had chosen seats in the back and it was very distracting how many heads wiped around to stare at them.

Once the reading was over, the volume returned back to the shop and I was able to, gratefully disappear from the spotlight for a few minutes. My editors Mr. King was extremely conflicted about Miss Cole's appearance. On one had, all publicity is good publicity, however, that attention wasn't on the book. About a half hour after my brother's appearance, once they had finished several interviews, the pair sauntered over and I was introduced to the famous Miss. Hazel Cole.

She is American, and looks quiet a bit like your sister, however, she has none of the natural beauty of your sister, and she definitely isn't as beautiful as you.

Her hair is bleached blond, and she wears it similar style to Queenie. She was actually a rather funny woman to talk to. She is from New York too and we chatted about the events last November together. She said that the whole thing inspired a song she sang, called "My heart weeps with the Thunderbird." I don't think it is a great title, because as you know, the thunderbird doesn't weep but it creates storms as it flies. However, I said nothing. She did have the decency to apologize for the poor timing of her entrance. However, my brother was distracted during most of our conversation, his eyes kept searching the room.

Miss Cole confided that she was in England to hide from the fall-out of her disastrous first marriage. I guess he was a millionaire in the broom stick market but made some flimsy investments with both of their money and he was arrested for embezzlement. She had severed him with divorce papers and left the country. I do feel bad for her. She seems like a very spirited young woman. One thing she did ask was if I would be so kind to introduce her to my publishing editor. I guess she is an aspiring writer and has written a series of novels about a young witch who solves crimes in New York.

I suggested she meet with you to discuss what an investigator in New York actually does and she seemed very excited at the opportunity to meet you. I hope you don't mind that I made that connection for you. If I overstepped my bounds, please let me know. I guess as she was describing a smart young woman who used her sense and wit to solve crimes in the city, I couldn't help think about you. Please let me know if I was too forward.

Since she was such a pleasant young woman, I did make the introduction to my editor Mr. King. He seemed interested enough and was especially thankful she apologized to him for their rude entrance. She said that she had told all the press people how she was in New York last November and that her interest in my book had come from it. He seemed pleased that she talked up my book and I left the two of them to a conversation about the ins and outs of book writing.

It was close to nine thirty when The Lestranges arrived and, frankly I didn't even notice until my mother pulled me away from a very insightful conversation with Bathilda Bagshot about the history of creature and wizard interactions. I had consulted with Bathilda during the writing of my book, but it had been all through letters. So it was great to converse in person.

The Lestrange family party consisted of Eudora, her son, Alexander, his wife Constance and Leta. After making a reserved greeting to all of them, I stood politely next to my mother as she steered the conversation like a professional rider might fly a Hippogriff. She and Eudora chatted about everything polite society would talk about, from the company and Miss Cole right down to the food selection that my publishing house selected. (Eudora complained that the salmon tasted like chalk, and felt like they should have served chocolate mousse mice instead as it was the more fashionable dish and would have fit the theme of the evening better.)

I made it a point to look at either my mother or Eudora and appear completely indifferent to Leta, who looked around the room casually as the party chatted. At one point during their conversation she did congratulate me on my book. I thanked her politely and turned my interested back to our mothers. Eventually, I saw that Albus had arrived and I excused myself from their company. As I left their party, my brother joined them.

Seeing Leta was not alarming, which I thought it might be. There has been very little change in her and I honestly felt nothing towards her. Seeing her reminded me only of how wonderful my life has become since Hogwarts.

I went over and joined Albus and his friends Nicolas and Perenelle.

However, the most alarming part of the evening was how much time Leta Lestrange spent with my older brother Theseus. For the remainder of the evening the pair seemed almost inseparable. I was concerned for a moment about Miss. Cole, hoping that she wouldn't be offended by my brother indifference. Miss Cole did not seemed bothered the least by his inattentions. She was too busy talking to my publisher.

Eventually Albus, Nicolas and Perenelle left, and I promised to meet them at the Leaky Cauldron after the event had ended. There was only about an hour left and I was ready to go.

My father came to stand next to me and sighed. I turned my gaze to my father and I saw him watching my brother and Leta.

"I never liked that family." He said quietly. If you were going to use a word to describe my father it would be stoic. He works at Gringotts, which is the main wizarding back in London. It's goblin run. My father works in acquisitions and connections, which essentially means that if some people are too nervous to bank with goblins, he runs their transactions. My father is…. So it was a shock to hear him express a sentiment like that.

I guess my shock could read on my face.

"I never like how Mr. Lestrange treated his only daughter."

Then my father looked me right in the eyes and said "And I never liked how his daughter treated you."

I think my eyes brows must have shot into my hair line.

"Newt, just because I am an old man, doesn't mean I am a fool. The worst part of all of this is, your mother is trying to set your brother up with miss Leta Lestrange."

I looked back that the small group. My mother did look exceedingly pleased. Once I looked back at my father he said "I know you are well over that tart, but I just didn't want to be shocked when you found out."

"You're brother is an indolent man and I will say that I am concerned about some of his leanings politically." My father said darkly. "Eventually, he will no longer be the young, handsome war-hero. Yes, he is an auror but he spends money as quickly as he acquires it. I think he had banking on what will be left in the estate after your mother and I pass on."

"He will get the house, of course, but there is little fortune there. Of course, a portion of the estate will go to you, once your mother and I pass away. If your brother attempts to sell the family estate, it magically default into your ownership. Your brother won't be able to contest it either, as I have worked with all the best goblins at Gringotts to make it impossible"

"Do you really believe this is the appropriate place to discuss all this?"

My father turned his gaze back towards my brother and continued. "Is there ever an appropriate time to do anything Newt? I am not concerned about you. You have made something of your life, as little as I liked of it originally. Your taste in woman has seemed to improve too."

I could feel my face flush, yet he continued on.

"To keep up his lifestyle, your brother will need to marry a very rich wife. He is nearly 35, and the beautiful, young, rich wife pool is shrinking around him. Other young handsome upstarts are entering the scene. I think your new found fame has your brother nervous."

"Why would you say that?"

"Because suddenly, Theseus the war hero and auror, is up staged by his younger brother, who captured Grindelwald and is publishing an expected best seller. The newspapers write about Newt Scamander, or the Scamander brothers, but there are less and less articles about your brother. I think it is bothering him"

Frankly I was shocked in to silence.

"Why do you think he comes to all the same events as you?"

"Because he was trying to help me out?"

"Why do you think he brought one of the most popular singers right now, who is easily 10 years his Junior, to your book preview?"

"Because she is an aspiring author?"

"I think you should take some time to really think about that Newt."

My father looked back at me skeptically, before patting roughly on the shoulder and stalking off to get another whiskey.

This interaction with my father was by far the oddest interaction of the whole week.

Even when Miss Hazel Cole punched out a reporter twenty minutes later, I was still more fluxoed by my father than anything else.

I don't know why, but for some reason, I really want to believe the best of my brother. It meant so much to me that he was willing to support me at so many different events.

However, on greater inspection, I can also see what my father means. There is never a party I go to where my brother is not. Maybe he did bring Miss Cole to upstage me at my own party.

Maybe I have been envious of your relationship with your sister and was hoping that my relationship with my brother could become more like that. Yet, I really felt like Jacob was more of a brother to me than my own brother and we only knew each other for a few days.

If Theseus does end up marrying Leta, it would make holidays very uncomfortable for me. I am not in love with Leta anymore. I don't think I ever truly was in move with her, I think that I twisted the feelings of friendship and need into the idea of love.

Now I look back and see that Leta was, well, she wasn't a good person. She took from a lot of people. She took from me, she took from our classmates, and now… is she trying to take from my brother too?

Do you think I should tell him? I mean do you think I should tell Theseus about why I was expelled? Do you think I should tell my parents? You are the only one who knows, besides Leta and well, your sister. Would it seem petty and childish to tell them now?

I cannot imagine having her in our family, having Christmas with my parents. Sitting in our dining room. If she married my brother, someday our family home would be hers.

However, I am reminded families change all the time. One day I might be married with my own family and instead of spending the holidays with my parents at Scamander lodge, I'd be in my own home.

Tina, what do you think? Right now I would value your opinion more than any others about this situation.

The party wrapped up pretty quickly after Miss Cole punched out a reporter. I guess he asked her some very inappropriate question about her divorce and instead of drawing her wand, she punched him out cold. Made me miss Jacob, really.

She left shortly after. She did made front page news, and it was a bit of a disappointment that the papers the following day couldn't report on the party without reporting about her. I am trying not to let it get me down.

I then met up Albus and his friends at the Leaky Cauldron as planned. We stayed out far too late discussing the different uses of dragon's blood. That is one of the areas of research Albus is currently undertaking. He has also recently been named the newest editor of Transfiguration Today. I am not sure where the man finds the time to teach full time, research and edit. I swear he must have time turner somewhere.

Now that I have given a pretty complete summary of the party, I will happily turn my attentions back to you and let you know how ardently I wished you had been there with me. I felt braver with your letter in my pocket, but I wish it could have been you. Maybe, if you wouldn't mind, accompanying me on a couple book signing and publicity events I will most likely have to attend while I am in New York? I know it is probably really rude of me to ask you in this manner but… I hope you will consider.

I have been thinking about your journey to Detroit with apprehension. I am concerned about you, about your safety. I know you will be in Detroit for only a few hours, maybe two days tops, and I know you will be in a MACUSA headquarters. I don't know what is wrong with me. The more distance between us the more anxious I become, which is ridiculous, since there is nothing I can do anyways from England. Just… be safe? I know you will.

Tina there is something you brought up in your last letter that I felt was important to address with you. You wrote that you felt that it was wrong that President Picquery asked me to censor my book, which I did. I have thought long and hard about what you wrote. The truth is, I have been conflicted about this too. A side of me knows that editing the content of the book at Madam Picquery's request is wrong. There will be people looking for advice on those creatures and they will not be able to look in my book for them.

However, I am also concerned about Frank, the Thunderbird and other American based creatures that might be hunted because of my escapades in New York this last November. Magizoology is not a popular field and magical creatures and often not taken seriously. However, I suddenly drew attention to a breed of creature that I swore to protect and I am concerned about poachers and traffickers using my book against me. It was a very dangerous plan to sneak Frank back into the United States and I would do it again if I had too. However, I don't want to have to do it again because someone got the bright idea from me and my book to go steal a magical creature.

Does this make sense?

I do what you to know that I agree with you wholeheartedly that censoring my book isn't the best thing, but I also don't know what the other options are. I hope you'll forgive me and understand why I did what I did.

In your last letter you asked if it was wrong to not what to not want to be involved in the investigation behind your attacks. You asked if it made you weak not wanting to find the answers yourself. First and foremost, no, it is not wrong and it does not make you weak. You were attacked only about a month ago, you are were bed ridden most of that time. You've barely begun processing what happened to you. It is completely normal to need time and space from what happened to you.

However, it is important to know the difference between space and avoiding something. Space is healthy, avoidance is not. When you are processing everything, it will be important to talk about it. With me. With Queenie. With Pickett. Locking those feelings away and keeping them to yourself won't make the easier to handle or make them go away. You always have me to talk to and write with.

Tina, there is one last thing I'd like to address, it was regarding something you wrote in your last letter. You wondered if your parents would be proud of you. I can safely say, dear Tina, that they would be. You are an amazing woman, a great auror and a beautiful person. It seems so unfair that you would lose your parents so young, and I have really taken to heart what you said about them. It makes me want to value my time with my loved ones. It inspires me to trust in my family more, even if my brother and I are not close.

Tina, you should be proud of everything you've accomplished and done in your young lifetime.

I know I am proud of you.

Greatest Affections,

Newt

"Did you get a letter from Newt?" Queenie asked as she came into their apartment closing the door behind her. Her arms were filled with groceries.

Tina nodded. Slowly getting up to help her sister put away her purchases.

"Does it example why Hazel Cole was at this book party and why she punched that reporter? I can't believe that it was all over the newspaper." Queenie asked as she put away a fresh bag of flour.

"Actually, it does." Tina said over her shoulder, as she put the milk inside the refrigerator. "I think it actually hurt Newt's feelings that he was upstaged at his party by the woman who came to the party with his brother."

"Queenie?" Tina said slowly, as she turned to face her sister. "Did Newt ever tell you about what happened with Leta?" She asked softly.

"No." Queenie shook her head. "I asked him about the woman in the picture, and all I got was the feeling of betrayal, I knew that he had taken the blame for something she had done. I knew that it never sat right with Newt afterwords. Why? Did he tell you about it?"

Tina nodded, handing her sister the letter. "I don't know what to think about it. He gave up so much for her."

"You know, I thought I was going to be jealous when I finally knew everything about Leta. I thought that I was going to feel insecure and bad about myself. I mean, she is rich! She has a famous family. She is what a lot of women want to be! But instead, all I am is angry. Furious, even!"

" I can't believe such a selfish woman exists! I can't believe she took so much from him. She was the reason he didn't finish at Hogwarts. She was the reason he had to serve in the war!"

"No Teenie." Queenie said softly as she was scanning the letter. "Newt choose to take the blame for her. Newt choose to go to war. It's all in his letter. He says so right here." She pointed to a long paragraph in Newt's letter.

"Teenie, she didn't make Newt do those things. He did them for her, and she… and she just took. This is Newt's past. These events made him who he is."

Tina threw herself in her chair, feeling defeated.

"And I love who Newt is." Frustration evident in her voice. "I know he needed those things to be the man I love. But she hurt him!"

She looked up at her sister smiling at her secretively.

"What? What are you looking at me like that?" Tina shot cautiously to her sister.

"So, you love him? I think that is the first time you said it out-loud."

Tina's face flushed, she couldn't handle the smile her sister was giving her, so she stood up to make some tea.

Queenie went back to reading Newt's letter as Tina got their tea things ready.

"Well, it seems like you will have to forgive Leta at some point…since you might become sister-in-laws." Queenie said slyly.

Tina spun around and gapped at her sister. She grabbed a kitchen towel and threw it at her sister from across the room.

"Queenie! You are so… so… presumptuous." Tina trying to hide her smile with indignation.

"Well, as long as I get to be your bridesmaid, you can call me anything you want."

Shrieks of laughter and giggles filled the air.

Downstairs Mrs. Esposito shook her head with a sigh and a small smile at sound of laughter echoing through the building.