The Underground

Chapter 16 - Sanctuary

 The boat ride had been long and tiring. Dumbledore had payed for the entire trip, and he had not underdone it. Newt had had a room to himself and food delivered to his door. He was thankful for the solitude. For the time to himself. He was still weak, and his ribs ached when he tried to sleep, but his head was clear. Though boats had usually stirred up memories of Tina, this time they were absent. The only thought he had was of Elizabeth. He remembered holding her as a newborn baby, as a chubby toddler, as a laughing five year old. He remembered the time she had fallen off the muggle playground and skinned her knee. He remembered the time that Jacob had taken them fishing, William and Thomas had helped Elizabeth reel in a trout. They had been happy. 

Now the world was dark and cold. The sun would come up each morning and give off no heat. Even in high summer, he would wear a coat. 

He came down the gangplank and looked around. The docks were busy, but not crowded. It was perfect for causally drifting through without being spared a passing glance. He was simply another traveler disembarking. He wandered though the crowds, fingering the paper in his pocket. It was the address of the family he was staying with, posing as an uncle. He had memorized the writing by now, 101 Pearl Street South, Hamilton ON, the home of the Blysmas.

Dumbledore had told him about the family. The mother, Katherine, had moved to Hamilton from America. The father, Henry Blysma had been a soldier for most of his life, but he had died in an accident two years ago.  All were muggles, but one of the children wasn't. Bertha, the middle child was nearly five years old and had demonstrated magic just weeks before. She had rescued a runaway kite without touching it, she had simply willed it down from the sky. 

The other children, Janis, Justin and Peter weren't exactly pleased to have a witch in the family, Peter especially, since he knew of only bad witches from stories. But he was only three, and that was to be expected. Janis, the oldest, was nearly eight, and Justin just one year younger. They had been excited at first, but it soon gave way to envy. But despite all that, the family was close in all ways. It made him think again of Elizabeth... and Tina. 

Tina...

He closed his eyes to block out the rush of feelings. He needed to focus on staying out of reach of the Hallowed, not wander through memory. 

The bus ride to the Blysmas' house was agonizingly slow. Block after block crept by like snails and the people inside began to grumble. But after he had reached his destination he slowed to a speed even less than the bus's had been. He lost track of time while slowly putting one foot in front of the other. He couldn't help feeling like each step led closer to his doom. 

No, he thought, don't think that.

He reached the door and knocked. The door had been painted white years before and was peeling in strips of brown. A flake of white landed on his white knuckles, only to be blown away by a soft wind. 

The door opened. 

Mrs Blysma greeted him with a warm smile that hinted of troubles buried deep within. Newt knew his own smile held the same, only not so deeply hidden. She escorted him inside without a word, her eyes darting up and down the empty street. A leaf skittered across the road, but otherwise all was still. Newt shut the door.

The house was small, with three rooms on the main floor. A kitchen, living room, and a bedroom. Mrs Blysma led him into the living room and then gave a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry for all the quiet, but I wasn't sure if you were being followed. Dumbledore warned us that you might be, and told me to be careful indoors and out. I hate it, it's like being a prisoner in my own home."

"I know the feeling," He replied, remembering the time when the dementors had shown signs of wanting to  join Grindlewald during that awful winter before he had married Tina. Only the nifflers hadn't gotten stir-crazy. 

Mrs Blysma asked, "Do you want tea? I have the kettle on already."

"I would love tea, thank you." Mrs Blysma went into the small kitchen and busied herself about the kettle. While she poured the tea there came a loud thumping and crashing from upstairs and a few second later a little girl with shockingly blond hair peered around the corner that hid the stairs from view. Her green eyes flashed and she let out a loud whoop.

"Jan! Justin! Peter!" More thumping, louder this time, and three other heads peered around the corner. The smallest boy's hair was not as bright as Bertha's, but was streaked with pale brown. The oldest looked very much like her mother, with not quite blond hair that was pulled back into a tight braid down her back. Her eyes were different though, brown with a hints of green and grey. The older boy, Justin, was dark haired and dark eyed, and his face had a pinched, wild look to it, but his eyes were kind and had a sparkle in them that spoke of happier days, so much so that Newt was startled when he spoke.

"Have you come to take Bertha away?" His tone sounded of accusation and protection. 

"How can you ask that!?" hissed the oldest in a commanding way. "Mom wouldn't let him anyway."

Bertha looked aghast at the very idea and shrank back against Janis, her hair catching the light and changing to molten gold on her forehead. Peter merely blinked and looked at Newt with his blue eyes taking in the scene. 

"Come out of there and introduce yourselves." Mrs Blysma commanded. Peter ran and hid behind her legs, not exactly following the order. Janis flounced out of her spot and stood at attention, hands slapped at her sides in a perfect military stance, her eyes focusing on a point just above his head. Justin was more casual, but he radiated distrust into the room like a power plant. Inside himself, Newt wondered how Dumbledore expected him to pose as the children's uncle. It was going to be a very long stay.