Newt found the younger members of the family in the kitchen as he had expected, Jacob and Queenie working seamlessly to produce a delicious-smelling meal while Tina finished cleaning up the tea things and Salsify flitted about procuring serving dishes and appropriate platters.
"Here buddy, I saved you a coupla scones," said Jacob, handing them over.
"Bless you, Jacob Kowalski," Newt said fervently, scarfing them down in the corner so he'd be out of the way.
It really was incredible how well Jacob had integrated himself into the magical kitchen. Queenie had set up a few motion-activated spells so that when Jacob put the food in the oven, for example, the spell would cook it to the perfect doneness. He had to chop things by hand (for the most part—there was an enchanted knife in the block, but it could only do a small dice) but still he managed to do more than help—he had a true talent that Newt certainly couldn't match with an entire adult wizard's repertoire of spells at his disposal.
Tina seemed to be thinking along the same lines when her offer to help with the garnishes was politely declined. Newt smiled at her thoughtful expression.
"Teenie, why don't you and Salsify go do the table. That's what we really need right now," said Queenie. "Newt, I want to talk to you after dinner."
Newt nodded at her, but then drifted off. If he wasn't needed, even for a moment, there were plenty of chores to work on in his case that had been neglected while he was working on those assigned by his mother. He'd been keeping the case in the owlery, but with guests in the house, he should move it to someplace where it would be less likely to be discovered.
He took it with him up to the nursery. The furniture was still covered in sheets, but that would change by the summer, if they stayed. The room was already looking brighter, less dusty and forlorn than it had when they'd first let the midwife in to see it. The woodland scenes on the paper had changed slightly, from how he remembered them, taking on a slightly different, more modern style. He wondered how different they had looked in his father and grandfather's day.
Next year would be so different, if they stayed here at Blethering. Even with the guests, the family hadn't done much more than bring in a Christmas tree and set it alight with fairies and a starlight rose at the top this year. But next year there would be a reason to pull out all the stops. Certainly, the child would still be too young to appreciate it, but Newt could see it bringing his parents some much-needed joy to celebrate the turning of the year the way they always had when he and his siblings had been young.
Christmas had been a major celebration at Blethering, largely due to their close association with muggles, and it was charming to think about having all the cousins together again. Newt knew his older cousins already had children of their own, but he was ashamed to say he wasn't sure how old they might be. Would they be friends for his children the way their mothers had been to Newt? It was strangely heart-warming to imagine so. Would it matter to Tina, in making the decision where they should live, if there were other children in the family who might be good playmates for their child?
He placed the case on the floor of the nursery, knowing full well this was not a habit to get into. The animals left in the case were largely so dangerous, or required such a specifically controlled environment, that he was currently unable to create a habitat for them at Blethering. Some of them, like Dougal, were so accustomed to the environment of the case that it would take more time than he had now to get them used to Blethering. With more time though, and especially with his parents' help, it would be possible to create spaces for most of them. Blethering was already an extremely complex natural preserve for creatures, magical and non-, and it would be wonderful to see more of his charges out in the elements instead of kept inside insulated from the complexities of reality.
Newt performed his banish-restock double flick spell routine several times. It had become such a habit he hardly had to think of it. It was becoming rather spare in the case, actually. It was still a wonder, but there was far more space with the graphorns and moon calves out to pasture, the erumpent in her enclosure on the mountainside, and the niffler—oh lord, was the niffler out again?
Newt groaned, and turned sharply, colliding into a figure with a solid "Oof!"
"Oh, Tina!" he scrambled backward as he registered her presence, her dark hair, her bright curious expression, and the wriggling niffler she held out to him.
"I'm terribly sorry. I hadn't heard you come in," he said as he accepted the squirming creature and deposited him in his glittering den.
She smiled a little, but was still looking around in wonder.
"It's not looking its best, I'm afraid," said Newt apologetically.
"What do you mean?" asked Tina. "I always think it's so amazing in here."
"Many of the animals have been put out in spaces around Blethering estate so that they can get some fresh air. I was just thinking about how empty it feels in here."
"That's good though, isn't it Newt? You always wanted the best for your creatures. I'm so glad they can be out there, even though inside here is a pretty incredible place to live too."
Newt smiled a little bashfully, looking at his feet. His boots, despite his best efforts, were still black from Linchmead's wickedly powerful appearance spell. At least they'd regained their more functional shape.
"It's amazing that your family is so into animals too—that they have the space and the knowledge to care for your creatures. You must be so grateful for them."
He sighed. "I—I'm afraid we haven't always gotten along, even though as you say we are similar in many ways. My family are passionate about conservation and the welfare of magical beasts, perhaps more than I realized growing up with this place as the norm. But because they weren't willing to go as far as I was, I scorned them, lumped them in with wizards who don't care at all."
Newt sat on an empty feeding trough that had belonged to his herd of graphorns. "I'm afraid I sold them short, and didn't adequately understand their perspectives. I do love my family. I was just remembering holidays with all my cousins here." He turned to her hopefully. "Would you—? Do you—? Oh, I don't even know what I'm trying to say."
He buried his face in his hands, feeling ashamed of the rush of emotion trying to speak to Tina brought out.
"What's is it?" asked Tina, taking one of her smaller hands and gently peeling his back from his face.
"I just need so desperately to talk to—well, you, but. . ."
"The other me?" she asked wryly.
"Yes. I need to know what you-she-you? Think about living here. Full time, maybe even...forever?"
Tina blinked. "Really?"
A/N: Thanks so much for your reads, comments and votes! I think it's working--I'm still writing and editing. Yay!