In Her Darkest Hour ✞ Theseus Scamander

iii

The knock at the door startled Newt, he wasn't expecting company, and he was sure as hell his own brother wouldn't knock the door. He picked himself up off of the sofa where he had been lying all day and tightened his dressing robe as he walked to the front door.

Newt was taken back when he saw the outline of a woman through the window of the door. His heart began to race and he opened the door. Stood in front of him was Orla, his best friend with the same reassuring smile she always had on her face whenever he saw her.

The tears began to build up in his eyes and he began to shake. The emotions rushed over him as he didn't know what to do with himself. Instead, Orla took charge and crashed into him as she hugged him. Newt hugged back, tighter than she had ever felt him hug her. Orla knew how hurt he was, and for a second she doubted herself being there as she could have potentially made him worse.

Newt wiped away the tears as he pulled out of the ug first. He looked Orla in the eye, her hands on his face and tears in her eyes. "You best come inside, it's a bit chilly out there," Newt managed to get out.

He stepped aside and invited Orla in. Orla took off her shoes and set them to one side out the way from anyone who could possibly trip over them. Orla took her coat off and placed both her bag and coat on the hook beside the mirror. As Orla moved to go find wherever Newt had run off to she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. A single strand of hair had come undone at the front of her face from her usually neat bun. Instead of fussing as she would usually do, Orla simply tucked the strand behind her ear and headed into the kitchen where she heard the kettle finish boiling.

When Orla reached the kitchen, Newt had finished making the two a cup of tea and handed Orla her cup. Orla inspects it and looks back up to Newt, "perfect as always, the perks of having a friend who knows exactly how you have your tea."

Newt smiled as he took a sip from his cup, "does Andrew not make it right?"

Orla shook her head, "he hasn't quite perfected it yet, it's always been too sweet or too milky."

"How is Andrew?" Newt asked as he moved from the kitchen to the living room.

Orla followed suit and stared him down when she sat next to him on the sofa. "Stop avoiding the topic of conversation that I came to have," Orla said sternly, "I'm worried about you, Newt. Do you know how many people have told me you've finally picked a side?"

Newt took a sip from his cup and sighed. "I can't even talk to my own brother about it, Orla," Newt sighed. "How do you expect me to talk about it with you if Theseus can't talk about it?"

"Because Newt," Orla started, "I never liked Leta. Besides, your brother is stubborn and hard to get through to, whereas I'm easy to talk to. I just want to know if you're okay, Newt."

Newt put his cup down and shook his head before looking back up to Orla with tears in his eyes. "I hate it," Newt cried, "just knowing she's not alive and a couple of streets away. Theseus can't even bear to step in their house, he's been staying here for the past three days."

Orla shook her head, "Newt, I don't care about how Theseus is coping. I came to see how you are dealing with Leta's death, you need to be honest with me."

Newt was quiet. His head was down and he was fidgeting with his hands. Every now and then he would lift his head up, but a quick shake would make it go back down again. Orla knew he wasn't doing good at all, he wasn't coping well. Newt was a state, anyone could see.

Orla wrapped her arms around Newt and pulled him into her chest. "Let them out," Orla whispered, "just let them come flooding out."

On command, the tears began to fall from Newt's eyes. Orla could feel the tear patches form on her top as Newt began to sob uncontrollably. Orla hated seeing him like this, every time he got his heart broke it was because of the same woman, and this time she had done it.

"Just watching her go and reliving that memory over and over again, makes it hurt so much more than it should do," Newt admitted, "I finally understand how you felt when you lost your mother, the pain is so unbearable when you lose someone you love most."

"No Newt, what you and I went through was different," Orla shook her head and stroked Newt's hair, "I lost a parent, I didn't watch my mother die and despite how much it hurt, it made things easier for me. As for you, you watched the woman you've loved for 14 odd years die, my pain would only meet that if something happened to you or Andrew."

Newt didn't reply, but he continued to sob in Orla's arms. As Newt cried into his friend's chest, the hug grew tighter and tighter. The tightness of the hug was comforting for Newt as he longed for the pain to go away. Orla never understood Newt's liking for Leta Lestrange, but her friend was hurting and she was comforting him the same way he comforted her all those years ago.

"You're going to be okay, Newt," Orla whispered softly as she kissed Newt's hair, "everything is going to be okay." It was a dark time for Newt, he had finally chosen a side but at the cost of losing a woman that he loved and cherished dearly.

There was a knock on the living room door, the man Orla had been dreading to see in almost 6 years entered the room. The redness and dried tear stains around Theseus' eyes made him look weak and tired. As soon as his eyes locked on Orla's, the tears came flooding back.

"Orla Kervoy... you're here," the pain in Theseus' voice was evident. So much so it caused Orla's heart to break for him. "When did you get back?" He asked.

Orla could barely get her words out until she finally managed. "End of August," Orla said as she swallowed the lump in her throat.

Theseus nodded his head, but the look of his face was a look of disappointment. "Is Newt okay?" He asked as he inched forward.

Orla looked down at Newt and could feel his lip quiver against her chest, "not really. Have you both been sleeping?"

"Does 30 minutes a night count?" Theseus asked.

Orla shook her head. "I'm going to take Newt to bed and then I'll be out of your way."

Newt is visibly drowsy from the lack of sleep mixed with the crying and the tea. But he just about manages to pick himself up without the help of Orla. Newt follows Orla out of the room and into the hallway, as the two pass Theseus, Orla becomes tense and Newt squeezes her hand.

The climb up the stairs proves difficult for a tired Newt, but with Orla's help, he manages to get to the top without falling back down. Orla leads him into his bedroom and pulls back the covers as Newt sits down. She removed his slippers and Orla could've sworn that as soon as Newt's head met with the pillow he was out.

Orla places the quilt over Newt and leaves his room, closing the door behind her. She heads back downstairs and begins to put her shoes back on.

"Please stay," Theseus pleads. "I really need someone to talk to."