She was a wounded beast, ridiculed by Second Salemers. He was a simple passerby, just wanting to help. She never expected to be helped by anyone for that matter, let alone an expert of what she was. And he . . . He never expected to find the love of...
The doctor lead us back down the hallway past people on stretchers, children chasing each other through the halls, wheelchairs, finally stopping at a closed door.
"Room 206," he said.
I went to grab the doorknob, but the doctor reached his and out and gently stopped me.
"Before you go in," he started.
My heart sank.
"Her, uh- wings, are still broken so please, avoid touching them. We're having an owl veterinarian come in to fix them since well, nobody here is skilled in ornithology. She'll be Apparting here in about," he looked at his watch. "Ten minutes or so. That'll give you time to visit."
We nodded.
"Also, no hugs," the doctor added. Tina and Queenie looked crestfallen. "Sorry, but her ribs are still very fragile. She'll probably need routine healing spells for about a week and then we'll see what happens from there."
Finally, I grabbed the doorknob, opening it slowly. The room was a pale yellow. Jeanne rested on white sheets in a blue dotted hospital gown. Her dark wings hung over the sides of the bed, the tips of the feathers just brushing the corners of the small room. She had IVs and medicines dripping into her arm slowly.
"Her sleep-spell is probably wearing off now so she'll be up soon," said the doctor. "Might be a bit drowsy though."
Jeanne's dark curls framed her face. The window offered sunlight onto her pale skin. Her dark lashed remained closed, fluttering here and there. She looked beautiful.
I advanced forward slowly into the room, my feet making little noise along the tile. I took a seat in a nearby chair by her pillow. Queenie, Tina, and Jacob stood along the other side of the bed.
I took her hand in mine, gently rubbing it. "Jeanne?" I asked softly. She remained sleeping.
"She's had a rough few days," commented Jacob. "Probably needs the sleep."
"What's she thinking about, Queenie?" I asked.
Queenie closed her eyes, concentrating. "Us," she said. "Mostly you, Newt."
I felt my cheeks become hot. Queenie smiled.
"Now she's thinking of . . . Graves . . . No, Grindelwald, what?"
"Graves was Grindelwald in disguise," I said.
"I knew it!" said Tina. "There was something about the way he talked . . . I should've realized sooner."
"No, it's not your fault, Tina," I said. "If it's anyone's, it's mine."
There were collective "No's," from Queenie, Tina, and Jacob.
"I tried to protect her and couldn't . . ."
"I can protect myself, thank you very much," said a small voice.
"Jeanne!" I exclaimed, feeling her hand tighten around mine.
"Hi," she said quietly, smiling.
"How do you feel?" asked Tina.
"Everything hurts," Jeanne said. "Other than that, never better."
I smiled, laughing. Jeanne tried to laugh but ending up in a coughing fit.
"Whoa, sorry," I apologized. "No laughing for you," I said. "Not until you're healed. Nothing that involves heavy breathing . . . or hugging . . ."
"The doctor didn't say 'no kissing', did he?" she asked, smirking.
"No," I said. I suppose he didn't."
Jeanne grabbed me by my loosened bow tie, pulling me down to her lips. The rest of the room "awed" at the sight of us.
"You have no idea how worried I was about you, Jeanne," I said, my face staying close to hers.
"I believe it," she said, smiling. "Newt . . . Your cheek is bleeding," she said.
"You're telling me there's a cut on my cheek?" I asked, joking. "You're the one in the hospital bed!" I laughed. "Always worried about others, hmm?" I said, stroking her hair.
"You're the one with the case full of creatures, Mr. Scamander," she said. "And they very well can't look out for you," she said, smiling.
"Suppose you're right," I said.
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