Fire thundered down from the sky, bubbling and swirling and causing chaos to all that it touched. It was war; Magic against Muggle. And in the middle of it all, Grindlewald took solitude behind a wall of blue flames.
Newt was frozen among the many who fled, he saw two paths that intersected— not knowing which to take. One of which lead to the solitude of his home, and the other right along side those who fought against the darkness.
In that moment of distraction, Grindlewald sought opportunity. The moment passed almost as quickly as the fire surrounding them, blue light poured out from the tip of the Elder wand and shot out towards its target.
"Newt!"
The voice was loud, and aware. The force collided into Newt's back and left as soon as it had came, and with the help of apparation, he found himself plastered against a stone wall.
He immediately recognized the person beside him, "Theseus?"
"You need to be more careful, Newt. You could have gotten yourself killed." Newt saw the concern and slight glint of insecurity in his eyes, and maybe he'd finally found a reason to feel bad about treating him so distantly.
They might have escaped— but not for long. The flickering blue face of a flame-consumed dragon bolted from around the corner and straight towards the brothers. They both reacted out of pure instinct; drew their wands and casted the best protectant-spell they knew.
They were hanging on by a thread, but the enemy saw the Finnish line— and it wasn't going to stop chasing it. Sweat poured from the both of them as they used their strength to keep the flames from scorching them alive. Theseus let out an agonizing groan, one that portrayed the exhaustion and effort it took to hold back the force.
They were weakening, the rays that shot from their wands flickered and the beast crept closer with every passing moment.
Then there was nothing.
Nothing but the symphony of awakening birds from an opened window. Newt closed eyes, relieved at the end of the nightmare that had plagued him since he left New York. But the day had begun; and time to relish in a moment that wouldn't last he had not.
At that realization, he rose from his old, rickety bed and grabbed his case.
***
His daily routine hadn't changed. He knew Dougal would be clawing at the seams of his case, whining for a breakfast consisting of his favorite meats. He also knew that the other creatures who took solitude in the habitats he had built depended on him.
And then he remembered Pickett.
Newt sighed and fished around in the pocket of his shirt. "Pickett. You followed me out after I put you to bed last night, didn't you?"
But he wasn't there. Newt frowned, checked the pockets of his pants and his coat that he had left on the armchair, to no avail. He couldn't help but panic.
Had Pickett escaped? Gotten lost? The last thought that found a way through his skull nearly sent him over the edge.
Had he rolled over in his sleep and crushed him?
Newt couldn't suppress his worry any longer. He found himself tearing the sheets from his bed, scavenging through them desperately.
Only, when Newt felt the familiar sensation of prickly feet on his head, he stopped abruptly.
He groaned and reached for his friend, knowing this was Pickett's cruel way of joking around. "Really, Pick?"
When he brought his hand back into his line of sight, Pickett stood on the mounds of his knuckles and squeaked out a laugh.
"Now, that was low of you." He brought his hand to his chest and let the little green goofball hop back into the Pocket of his shirt. When one of the bronze latches on his case clicked open, he knew that the creatures inside it were awaiting his aid.
***
When Newt opened his case, sure enough, Dougal had sat himself on the stairs. He watched the furry companion he had become so attached to huff and glare at him for being late.
"A little ungrateful today, are we?"
Newt smiled and made his way down the steps and into the small shack. He grabbed a chunk of deer meat from the pantry and called the preservation spell he had cast on it back to his wand. After hacking a few peaces from it's surface and tossing one at an expectant Dougal, he dropped them into a bucket.
The world was a dark place; and Newt had learned that the hard way. But in his case— the one thing he could truly call his own— he was protected from all that had once hurt him. He took solitude in that revelation.
But he also remembered a time when he allowed himself to stray beyond the lines of his comfort zones, ones that he had only dared to cross one other time in his life. He had regretted it then; but when he let the soles of his boots cross once more, he saw a different side of the world. He saw that among the bad, no matter how vivacious or weak, there existed a light.
He remembered feeling his heart open up— like a flower that had been trapped in darkness, exposed to the light. He remembered strutting down the streets of New York, with purpose and meaning.
But what stood out the most were the faces of the first people, the only people who he could call his friends. And for the first time, he realized, he was not alone.
These thoughts crossed his mind as he stared down the furthest wall, and the three newspaper clippings it hosted. He saw the compassionate, humorous face of Jacob— the confident, friendly composure of Queenie, and then he saw her.
He wasn't fully sure why, but her face, at that moment, glowed like the moon in a pitch black sky. He could make out those brown eyes from anywhere in the room, so dark that you couldn't tell pupil apart from color. They reminded him of those of a Salamander.
Confident— but beyond that— unsure and compassionate. Large and glistening, portraying each emotion they held like a series of photographs.
He walked closer— close enough to read the bold scripting;
PORPENTINA GOLDSTEIN, REINSTATED AS AN AUROR.
He smiled at that. He knew how much her job meant to her, and even if he couldn't see himself doing it, he was happy for her.
He wasn't sure what compelled him to reach out and stuff her picture in the pocket of his coat, but he did anyway.
DU LIEST GERADE
Forever and Always
Fanfiction***He wasn't fully sure why, but her face, at that moment, glowed like the moon in a pitch black sky. He could make out those brown eyes from anywhere in the room, so dark that you couldn't tell pupil apart from color. They reminded him of those of...
