The Tribrid and Her Prison {Book One - Complete}

Sylvia

As Newt closed the suitcase and locked it, he glanced at her. "I do have some good news. Do you remember Sylvia?" He asked.

"Sylvia?" Hope puckered her brows, trying to recall a face to the name.

"The first day we met, she was the one who brought you a blanket for the trip to Hogwarts."

"Oh!" Hope grinned and nodded. "Yes, of course. Why? Is she visiting?"

Newt nodded with a smile. "Yes, she's just finished a trek through the Tundra to help the Ministry with some dragon poachers, but anyway she'll be here tonight, and I thought maybe we could go out to the Three Broomsticks to catch up."

"That sounds fun," she nodded, "while we're there, maybe I'll stop at Gladrags." Her fingers stroked through her hair and bit her lip. "And maybe I'll stop at Madam Snellings as well."

Then, Newt took her face in his hands, gazing directly into her eyes. "If you'd like to, I will support you but just know you look gorgeous. Always."

Hope's knees quivered a little. "Hm...that's an excellent way to get laid, Newt." She murmured, brushing her fingers along the backs of his hands.

With a chuckle, he kissed her nose. "Come on. I'm starving."

It was a bit past lunch now, and they made quick work of eating in the Great Hall. They discussed the plans for releasing a few creatures within the next few months.

"Do you think that's what he meant?" Hope asked as the conversation quieted down, chewing thoughtfully.

"What did who mean?"

"The centaur," she nodded, "he said I'd be meeting my end soon. Do you think he meant last night?"

Newt cringed a little at the question, not meeting her eyes as he took a larger bite of food. Clearly thinking of a way to answer.

Frowning a little, she set her fork down. "Why won't you look at me?"

He looked down, and that fear she'd seen in his eyes was back. "I'm sure it's what he meant..." he trailed off.

"You are a terrible liar, Newt Scamander," Hope narrowed her eyes at him, "so what I'm gathering from your lack of an answer is that would be a no. Why? Because I'm destined to die?"

"You are not going to die."

"How do you know that?" She whispered. "How often are Centaurs right?"

Newt's silence was deafening.

"Right," she took a slow and deep breath and picked her fork back up, "well if I'm going to die, I'd rather die having eaten cake first." She said as she scooped a bit of chocolate fudge cake into her mouth.

"I don't habitually discuss my future with Centaurs, Hope. Just because they see it in the stars doesn't mean that's how it will play out. It's like Divination. It isn't always accurate, and if it does happen, it often doesn't happen how we think it will."

Hope tried to let his words sink in and offer comfort, but the fact was she'd been told she'd die soon, and last night was the first attempt. How many more until they'd succeed?

The afternoon seemed to drag on as Hope filled with excitement. She wanted to get out of Hogwarts for a little bit. Maybe Newt had been right; much of the trust she'd built over the last few months felt fragile. She loved Hogwarts, but the thought she might be safer outside its walls infiltrated her mind.

She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, on her third cup of coffee, as they began their trek to Hogsmeade. Albus had even tagged along, and Hope knew why.