Rather than cross the distance on foot, Newt apparated directly in front of the waist-high creature who stood hands-on-hips before him. The house elf sported grandiose ears and a neat uniform made from thick crimson and white patterned upholstery fabric. It had matching red shoes and gloves, which were a sign of his high position. Unlike the Blethering house elves, Linchmead had got wind of thirteen-year-old Newt's plan to free him, and had managed to stay one step ahead of him by becoming a guardian of the family's magic, keeping his job and his dignity. Linchmead was no friend, but he would listen to Newt's case as part of his age-old agreement with the Scamander family.
"I would like to come in, please," Newt said courteously.
The teenage wizards in long black robes on either side of the door looked back and forth between Newt and the house elf.
"Erm, could I see your invitation?" The braver of the two, a tall skinny lad with dark hair and olive skin, held out his wand toward Newt in a challenging gesture. The other was pale of hair and face and looked horrified at this turn of events. Newt ignored them and spoke directly to Linchmead.
"I understand that Theseus is currently hosting a party, and that I am not invited. So I must humbly ask you to let me in, just for the time it takes me to find someone and speak to them. He's got my wife, you see," Newt explained. "I am going to meet her, and then I will need a small exception to the security warding, please." He didn't like to say too much in front of the hired help, but it was only respectful to explain his reasoning to Linchmead. The elf shifted, crossing his arms over his thin chest. Newt decided now was not the time to be oblique. This tactic would not work without the elf's help, and it was against Newt's nature to get into a power struggle when simply sharing his motivations might work instead.
"Tina is suffering from a botched memory charm she received in the course of her duties as an auror. She barely remembers me, though I've stayed by her side this past year. A potion she took today adversely affected her, and now she can't even recall the past few weeks. Theseus swooped in while she was confused, taking her and her sister with him and now everything's gone wrong."
The elf raised one brow. Newt bent slightly at the waist and lowered his voice even further.
"I have come up with another plan to help the others, something we haven't tried before. Now more than ever I'd like to see things stabilized." Linchmead didn't seem to be softening, and Newt realized that he'd given the creature no real reason to suppose he'd changed his position on house elf welfare, since the last time they'd spoken Newt had staunchly refused Linchmead's plea for him to bind the three Blethering House elves once more. If crashing Theseus' Solstice party was to work, Newt had to get the guardian on his side. He had only one card he could think of that would matter to a creature whose loyalty spanned generations and admitted, "Tina is pregnant. I'm going to be a father, and there will be another child at Blethering House."
The canny elf studied Newt for a beat, then without responding to anything that Newt said, grasped his hand and pulled him through the double doors. Hoping this meant he had the elf's approval, Newt allowed himself to be led. Linchmead took his overcoat, hat, and scarf, and effortlessly banished them to a closet. The elf nimbly ascended a stool by the door and then attacked Newt with a grim determination to enact goodness knew what sort of appearance spells he'd been aching to try since Newt learned to avoid him as a recalcitrant youth. Newt could hardly refuse him a little vengeance now, though he worried he'd be glowing by the time he reached Tina. He'd certainly never had such clean fingernails before in his life. The rapidity of it all was dizzying.
"Look here Sir, I must see your invitation—" began the dark-haired lad by the open door. Newt had almost forgotten about the "security" wizards. He turned to them. They'd probably been chosen for their height and good looks more than for any magical talent. He couldn't see either of the two making auror at the Ministry.
"Unfortunately I am authorized to bargain directly with the keeper of the house wardings, and so I can enter without an invitation. I just need to complete an errand and then I'll be on my way. I'm not here to cause trouble for my brother." Newt smiled kindly at the boys, none of this was their fault. Theseus probably impressed on all of them that he was the master of the house, but while their father still lived Newt would have as much right as Theseus to use Scamander property.
Finished with his toil in mere moments, the ever professional Linchmead turned on his heel and opened his mouth wide.
"Newton Artemis Fido Scamander, second son of Lord and Lady Blethering."
His voice echoed through the house and with a wince, Newt knew there was no one inside that hadn't heard the magically amplified announcement.
Newt gathered himself, forcing a confidence that he did not feel in the slightest so that he could get through this night. This wasn't his area, but if he could just bluff his way through the next thirty seconds, he'd be all right.
"Master Newton, it will take approximately five minutes to prepare your exception," Linchmead murmured, leading Newt through the entryway, which was thickly decorated with the traditional greenery. So much for thirty seconds of bravery. Newt would have to come up with a bit more from somewhere.
It looked as if they'd packed half a forest full of fairies and stars into the entry. The trees effectively barred the wide marble staircase that swooped up across the right side of the foyer. The ceiling, two generous floors above, was enchanted to show the wheel of constellations, sped up to work through them all before midnight. The doors to the day rooms were closed off to the right, and the dining room door to the left was also shut tight, with a huge spruce tree right outside and holly boughs overhead. In contrast, the doorway to the ballroom was thrown wide open, and light and sound spilled out from within. Newt hesitated at the sensations. Aided by a small but pointed shove from Linchmead, he stepped over the threshold.
All eyes were on him. Linchmead's announcement would have been audible to everyone, and was apparently unusual enough to stop the party in its tracks. The band played on, thankfully, though the jazz music sounded loud over the hushed murmurs of the witches and wizards in attendance. Newt drew back his shoulders, unconsciously imitating his father's posture at state events. If he had to be stared at by everyone while he tried to find her, then he didn't want Tina to see him cowering.
The ballroom decoration was less overstated than the entry, with pairs of bare-branched saplings in great silver planters with glittering lights strung between them and silver and gold furnishings edging the sides of the huge room. The right hand wall was covered in glass doors that let out onto the brightly decorated garden, lit with hundreds of lanterns in silver and gold. In the center of the garden the Solstice bonfire lay, waiting to be lit.
The band was up on a raised platform at the far end of the room, and the space before it was full of couples who had likely been dancing before the unexpected announcement. From the bemused expressions of the muggle musicians, Newt could only surmise that they were all under the impression that they were sharing a very odd dream. The walls nearest Newt had tables heavily laden with hors d'oeuvres pressed against them, and when he looked to each side, he could see that the drinks fountains of Martin's school story had made a reappearance. Tonight one appeared to be flowing with spiced (and likely spiked) hot chocolate, while the other smelled of the fizzing whiskey that Newt now knew to avoid.
Several witches and wizards nearest stared openly at him, small gilt china plates of food clutched in their hands. Newt saw that Cyril Sage-Westley was one of them, but Newt wasn't prepared to greet him, so he stepped out, navigating the crowd easily. Everyone seemed ready to get out of his way. There had to be at least a hundred guests, if not two hundred. Newt tried to keep himself from looking too closely, as he was probably in the presence of most everyone he'd been at school with. For a moment he choked, struck by the thought that Leda might be here. In the same room with Tina. Theseus would find that hilarious and Newt needed to stop thinking about this immediately, before he lost his nerve.
On the left-hand wall of the ballroom, directly across from the bonfire beyond the glass doors, a little dais had been set up that held more of the silver and gold furniture, still in the clean lines of art deco that were all the rage. Newt briefly wondered if it had been ordered new or if it was really all the normal stuff transfigured especially for the party. It must have taken a small army to do it, in either case. Predictably, seated on a gilded chair where he had a perfect view of the entire room, was Theseus. Any surprise that the Lord Warden might have felt was not evident on his face, and if anything, his eyes sparkled with the anticipation of an amusing confrontation. Sitting on the arm of a sofa next to the chair was Tina, dressed to the nines in a black beaded dress that showed her pale knees, and frozen to the spot in shock.
From midway up the room, Newt saw the crowd part, as Theseus rose from his golden chair. Newt wasted no time, striding forward.
The hush in the room dissipated a little, as those too polite to gawk at this meeting between estranged brothers attempted to return to their conversations. However, that level of politesse was not common amongst wizards and witches, so most everyone stared as Theseus and Newt continued on their collision course. Just when Theseus opened his mouth to address his younger brother, Newt dodged smoothly around him, never glancing his way as he strode toward Tina. His heart was beating in his throat, but Newt tried his very hardest to remain calm. He didn't think Theseus would curse him in the back with this many witnesses.
Newt stepped right up onto the dais, taking Tina's hand before she could stop gaping long enough to retract it.
"Hello, Tina," he said, looking into her eyes as he bowed and kissed her hand. Her eyes were wide, and he knew his own were full of hope and uncertainty. Tina looked him up and down like she couldn't quite believe he was there. Newt briefly looked down at his hands and clothes to make sure Linchmead hadn't caused him to glow. Though his blacks were very black, his shoes had absolutely never been so shiny, and the shade of his shirt cuffs and the blue insets in his suit were now suspiciously similar to the color of his eyes, he wasn't actually giving off light. That was a relief.
"Newt," Tina said, a little breathlessly. "What—what are you doing here? Your brother said you weren't coming."
"We've got off on the wrong foot this time, Tina. I need to talk to you, and it can't wait."
He glanced around. There were a few unknown witches sitting on the cushions of the sofa that Tina had been perched on the end of—perhaps they were part of the Austrian delegation. Quentin Travers stood awkwardly off to one side of the dais, and he tried to smile at Newt, though his gaze kept flicking back to Theseus, who had apparently made a joke at Newt's expense if the sound of nervous laughter behind him was anything to go by.
"Whether or not you wish to talk to me about personal matters," Newt said quietly, thinking quickly and stepping so close to Tina that he could hear her indrawn breath, "President Picquery of MACUSA gave me leave to bring you to England for memory treatment, and there are several things that you need to be brought up to speed on before it is safe for you to represent your country in an international setting such as this one."
There. That was all true, and if Tina was caught up in her past as an auror, she'd be ready to sacrifice a little personal distance to do her duty. Indeed, it was working well. Tina seemed much less hostile than before, but maybe a little dazed.
"Are you all right, Tina?" Newt asked worriedly. Perhaps she was having another reaction to the potion? It was unspeakably stupid of them all to have put Tina in such a public situation while she was unwell. He glanced around but couldn't see Queenie or Jacob anywhere.
"Where is your sister?" Newt asked quietly, leaning in so that the others wouldn't hear him.
"Huh?" breathed Tina, definitely looking flushed now. Newt needed to get her out of the ballroom. He put his hand inside his jacket and hoped that Linchmead would hurry up with that exception.
"If you're quite finished, little brother?" Theseus' ironic voice sounded from behind Newt. Apparently he'd convinced the guests that this was a childish family drama that Newt had inflicted on them all. Well, let them think so. If he could make Tina understand why he was here, then nothing else mattered.
"Not quite," responded Newt, still refusing to turn around and face Theseus.
There! Newt felt the gap open up for him, just as an invisible tap on the shoulder alerted him that Linchmead had finished. Newt put his arm securely around Tina's waist, relieved that she didn't resist. His wand swirled in his hand, and the two of them disappeared from the ballroom, leaving a sea of gasps in their wake.
A/N: Poor Newt has no idea why Tina's so flushed and breathless, what on earth could the matter be? Oh, just the cutest boy on earth busting into a fancy party to whisk her away into a magical swirly hug, nbd. This was super fun to write and I hope you all enjoyed it!
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