Dear Mum,
I'm writing to tell you that I won't be coming home for Christmas. I have decided to spend it in New York, with Tina and Queenie. Please don't bother buying me a present. Everything here is fine. The beasts are happy. I think they can tell Christmas is coming. Queenie's and Jacob's wedding will be taking place soon, and Tina helped Queenie pick out a wedding dress yesterday. She told me the met quite the eccentric there, a batty old lady called Miss Taton. From what I can tell, she sounds a bit like you and Theseus combined. Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course. I don't know exactly when I'll be returning home, but I'm sure it will be sometime after the New Year. Don't worry, I'm fine. Happy holidays, in advance.
Newt
Newt sat back in his chair and looked over the letter. Satisfied, he rolled the parchment up into a neat scroll and tied it together with a bit of string. He gathered up his letter and headed out of his room, walking down the hall to find Tina. He tried her bedroom first, as he knew she would probably be sitting at her desk working on some Auror case or paperwork.
Tina door was cracked open an inch, a sliver of sunlight leaking through it. Dust particles floated in the beam of light, and Newt tapped twice on the door to announce his arrival.
"Come in!" Tina invited.
Newt pushed open the door and entered the room. Tina, as he had predicted, was sitting in front of her desk, a stack of papers piled high in front of her. She had already turned around in her chair and was facing him.
"Hi, Newt," she greeted.
"Hello," Newt said. He held up his bound letter. "I was just wondering if there was a post office nearby. See, I've got a letter for my mum."
"There's one not far away from here. I'll show you," Tina said, standing up from her chair.
"Oh. No, that's all right, I don't want to distract you from your work," Newt said, indicating the stack of papers on her desk.
Tina glanced at her papers for a second. "No, I need a break anyway. I'll come with you. Unless you'd rather go alone," she added hastily.
Newt shook his head quickly. "I'd like you to come," he said. "If you're sure you want to leave your work. I know how much you love your job."
The American witch cast another glance over her shoulder at her tottering pile of work. "The whole Auror thing takes its toll," Tina sighed. "I need some fresh air, anyhow."
The thought of her accompanying him on the trip to the post office made something in Newt's chest flutter rapidly. "In that case, I'll be quite happy to go with you," he mumured.
Tina blushed, and Newt's eyes stretched wide as he realized he'd spoken his thoughts aloud. Flustered, he raked his hand through his hair, mentally search for something to amend his comment.
Before he could say anything, though, Tina seemed to find her voice.
"Me, too," she said quietly, avoiding his gaze.
"Well, er–" Newt stammered, feeling a heat creep deviously up his neck, "–shall we get going, then?"
"Of course," Tina replied. "Let me just grab my coat, and then we can go."
She walked past him into the living room, where a coat rack stood in the corner. Newt shut her bedroom door and trailed after her. He plucked his own peacock blue overcast down from the stand and shrugged it on, Tina doing the same beside him.
He felt something squirm in his breast pocket, and sighing exasperatedly, but still fondly, he reached in and pulled Pickett out. The little green stick-insect climbed onto the back of his hand and squabbled at him with annoyance.
"Come on, Pickett, you're the one that wanted to stay in the pocket!" Newt accused affectionately, stowing his letter away so that his hand was free. "You can't blame me for being stuck in there."
Pickett squeaked and resolutely turned his head away, crossing his brittle arms.
"Pickett, don't give me that attitude. Come on, give me a smile–"
The Bowtruckle blew a raspberry at the Magizoologist.
"Now, that," Newt sighed, "is beneath you."
Tina laughed, and Newt realized that she was still there.
"Sorry," he said. "Pickett's feeling a wee bit picky today."
Tina snorted as she bent down to look at the Bowtruckle, who was currently blowing yet another prolonged raspberry at Newt.
"He doesn't mean it," she said to the creature, smiling. "Newt's the one feeling off today, Pickett, not you."
Newt gaped at her. "You're always on his side," he moaned.
"Yes, well, it's hard not to– he's such a cute little guy!" Tina said, straightening up.
Pickett seemed to understand the compliment, and reached out towards her.
"Really?" Newt said disbelievingly, raising his eyebrows at the creature, "You're going to abandon me now?"
He tried to set Pickett on his shoulder, but the Bowtruckle was steadfastly refusing. Newt sighed, shaking his head, and perched him on Tina's shoulder instead. He stood there happily, and chittered away.
"You don't mind, do you?" he asked her.
"Not at all!" Tina assured him.
They headed out the door and down the staircase into the street, with Pickett perched cheerily on Tina's shoulder.
"I should have left him on the Bowtruckle tree," Newt muttered.
Tina laughed. "You know you don't mean that, Newt. You love all of your beasts too much, no matter what you say," she told him. "The only thing I'm worried about is the No-Majs. Hopefully they don't think anything of him."
Newt nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. "You can just say it's a prop or something. And anyways," he added. "If a Muggle notices, I'll be sure to Obliviate them this time." He grinned.
Tina smiled. "It's good to see you've learned your lesson."
They continued on their walk to the post office, talking about Newt's beasts and Tina's work as an Auror, and their conversation was light-hearted and comfortable. The weather was chilly and frigid, although it had stopped snowing. The icy wind stabbed at Newt's exposed face, and he was quite glad to see the looming shape of the post office in the distance.
"Now, we have to enter through the back in order to get to the wizarding post office," she informed. "The No-Maj entrance is in the front."
"What, you don't have to tap any bricks or something like that?" Newt asked, thinking of Diagon Alley.
Tina gave him a strange look. "No. It's really simple here."
They were standing in front of the post office now, and the pair headed towards the back of the building. There was a narrow alleyway between the side of the post office and the chainlink fence on the other side, and they squeezed through one by one. Newt and Tina emerged at the back of the building, and entered through a small door, which looked very drab in comparison to the double doors out front.
They stepped inside, and they were suddenly standing in the middle of a large open space, the walls lined with countless shelves and perches on which owls of every kind stood. There was a reception area toward the back, where a witch was snoozing with her head lolling onto her shoulder.
Hundreds of owls blinked down upon Newt and Tina, their large, amber, eyes piercing. There were tiny minute owls for local deliveries, and bigger, sturdier ones for long distance ones. Newt could count at least a dozen breeds. Great Gray, Barn, Spotted, Snowy, Brown, and Tawny were amongst a few of them. The owls hooted down at them, and the room was full of the sounds of rustling wings and clicking beaks.
"You Americans certainly take mail delivery seriously," Newt remarked. "Back home in England, we didn't have half as many owls as there are in here."
"America's bigger than England," Tina countered fairly.
"I suppose so," Newt mused as he strode over to a promising looking gray owl.
It turned a sharp, orange eye on Newt as he approached, and ruffled its feathers importantly.
"Use that one," Tina suggested.
Newt examined the owl, and decided that it would be fit for traveling across the Atalantic Ocean. He held out his arm and the owl fluttered down from its perch to land on it. Walking over to the reception area, with Tina following him, he stopped in front of the napping witch.
"Um– excuse me..." he began hesitantly. How am I supposed to pay if she's asleep?
"Here," Tina said, shouldering him aside. "They're never awake."
She took a deep breath, leaned in close to the witch's face, and said loudly, "Will you wake up!"
The witch jumped, and looked at Newt and Tina blearily. "Oh sorry," she mumbled, her words slurred from sleep.
She looked at the owl standing on Newt's arm. "That'll be seven Sickles," she said, barely moving her lips as her head bobbed and her eyelids flickered closed once more.
Tina gave an annoyed sigh. "Wake! Up!" she shouted.
The clerk didn't stir.
"I'll just leave it here," Newt said hastily as he pooled a handful of silver coins onto the counter.
They walked back out the door, and Newt took his letter out of his pocket and tied it to the owl. "You know what you've got to do," he murmured to it.
It hooted and spread its wings, lifting off into the sky. Newt and Tina watched it disappear into the distance before they turned around and headed back to the brownstones.
*****
Newt was in the living room, with Tina. They were each working on their own thing, Newt bending over his manuscript, scribbling away with his quill. Tina was practicing defensive spells, maneuvering it in complicated patterns and muttering encantations under her breath.
A tapping sound caught Newt's attention. He looked up to see an owl at the window, with a letter tied around its leg. He hurried over to the window and carefully opened the window, making sure not to hit the owl. It swooped in and landed on an armchair, leg extended. Newt reached out and unraveled the string biding the letter to the owl's leg, and the letter fell free. The owl, having done its duty, hooted and flew back out the window again.
"Is that from your mother?" Tina asked.
"I think so," Newt said as he picked it up.
With a jolt of horror, he realized that this was not just a regular letter. It was scarlet-red, and wisps of gray smoke were curling from the edges. It felt unusually hot in his hands.
"Why is it smoking?" Tina asked, looking at the letter suspiciously.
Newt swallowed. "It's a Howler," he whispered.
"What's a Howler?"
"You don't want to know," Newt responded, staring at the letter, mortified.
"Well, open it!"
Newt gulped down the lump in his throat, and cautiously slit the envelope open. The letter leaped out of his hands and started yelling with the unmistakable voice of Florence Scamander.
"NEWTON ARTEMIS FIDO SCAMANDER! HOW DARE YOU NOT COME HOME FOR CHRISTMAS!"
Newt and Tina both jumped, and the Englishman ran to close the opened window. Tina was staring at the letter, a look of trepidation and bewilderment written across her features.
"I EXPECTED BETTER OF YOU, NEWTON! I WAS ALREADY THINKING ABOUT WHAT TO MAKE FOR CHRISTMAS DINNER, AND NOW YOU TELL ME YOU'RE NOT COMING HOME? AND HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY THINK TO TELL ME NOT TO GET YOU A PRESENT? DO YOU NOT KNOW THAT IS THE WORST POSSIBLE INSULT A MOTHER COULD HEAR FROM HER CHILD? DO YOU?!"
Newt winced and glanced at Tina, who was looking as horrified as he felt.
"AND HOW DARE YOU COMPARE ME TO THAT BATTY OLD WOMAN, MISS TATON?! YOU SHALL NOT CALL YOUR MOTHER BATTY, NOR OLD, YOU HEAR ME, NEWTON?!"
Oh, I hear you alright.
"I AM EXTREMLY DISAPPOINTED IN YOU! AND IF YOU'RE SPENDING CHIRSTMAS WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND, TINA–"
Newt blushed, and hurriedly said to Tina, who was equally red in the face, "I'm awfully sorry about that, my mother–"
But the rest of his sentence was drowned out by Florence's bellowing voice. "–YOU HAD BETTER GET HER A DECENT CHRISTMAS GIFT, NEWTON! DON'T BUY HER A LUNASCOPE LIKE YOU GOT ME LAST YEAR, THAT THING WAS HORRIBLE–"
"I spent ten Galleons on that!" Newt muttered.
"AND NEXT YEAR, YOU HAD BETTER BE ABLE TO GET YOUR BUTTOCKS HOME FOR CHRISTMAS!" Florence yelled.
The Howler ripped itself apart, and the smoldering remains fluttered to the floor, scattering ashes everywhere. A ringing silence followed the outburst. Tina broke it.
"That...that was your mother?" she asked, eyes wide.
"That," Newt said, still staring, aghast, at the pile of ashes, "was my mother."