September 17th, 1915.
Lille, Northern France.

  These were tough times for humanity, both magical and non-magical. Five years ago, on 1910, attacks from acolytes of the Dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald in the most important European wizarding cities started. Thankfully, they were dealt with quickly at the point where things had gone quiet around 1914. However, things weren't very calm for the Muggles.

  A year ago, the Muggle world had fallen into a war. The Wizarding world had strict rules as to not intervene in their business, they even have an elite group that handles those who accidentally enter the magical world and even obliviate them, meaning, they make them forget those encounters.

  Archer Evermonde, the British Minister of Magic, passed an emergency legislation, which forbid witches and wizards from getting involved to avoid massive breaches —Muggles from entering the Wizarding world and end the secrecy of said world—. However, there were thousands of witches and wizards who decided to aid the Muggles whenever and however they could.

  Theseus was one of those many wizards. He was on the front line of duty, only that he never pulled the trigger of one of those Muggle weapons. He didn't do it unless it was strictly necessary. Instead, he was there to cure them and prevent them from dying. However, he was not exactly a medical soldier, he was just a soldier and he had duties, so, he continuously had jump into the trenches and help the soldiers fight the enemy. He learned to use their weapons and he had made friends. Sadly, he had seen many of them perish and die under the heat of the battles.

  This was in London. On one of those battles, he got hurt a bit too badly. Obviously, no one knew he was a wizard and letting even his closest mate know was far too risky. Therefore, he kept his wand in his boot and his lips shut. They transported him, along many others, to the nearest allied medical outpost to be treated, for the British outpost was under attack at the moment.

  On the back of the truck, he decided to give in to his sleep. He had tried to stay awake, assuring that he'd arrive in no time, only that it wasn't like that, the trip seemed to be endless. His eyes snapped shut and sleep took over. Terrible images could be seen behind his eyelids but he didn't want to be awake, the pain was too strong it was very overwhelming. He opened his eyes when he felt some guys grabbing the stretcher he was on roughly.

  They said something but he didn't understand it, their voices were distant for him. One of the guys, a man with a kind face, told him something that he didn't catch, the buzzing in his ears too loud, but the man smiled kindly as he nodded. Theseus closed his eyes for what felt like a second but was more than a minute.

"Placez-le ici, soigneusement. Merci, les gars." Said a female voice, she too sounded way too far. Thes felt like dreaming. "Ça va faire un peu mal, je m'excuse." She added and he felt something poking his skin, his eyes snapping open. He grunted and grabbed her wrist tightly to pull away whatever she had in her hand. She frowned, his grip around her hurt, but she didn't mind it that much. "Non, non, non. Attendez. Je sais que ça fait mal, mais attendez." Slowly, Theseus let go of her wrist and she slipped her hand away, the nurse frowned with worry when she saw such fear and concern in his eyes. She has helped plenty of soldiers, watched them die, with no limbs, cuts and scars on their skin; but it's never easy to see their faces, it wasn't before, it isn't now.

  Without saying a word, she grabbed some gauze, damped it with water, and started to carefully clean his face in order to remove the dried blood that was on his blood. Her touch felt familiar and it flooded Theseus with tranquility, he closed his eyes and released a breath. When the blood was off, it revealed a few cuts on his skin bug it wasn't something that would need stitches. Now, the only wounds visible were said cuts and a black eye. When her hands stopped moving on his face, he opened his eyes, both of them frowned.

  There was something about their eyes, they looked so familiar. Both of them knew they had seen those eyes before but neither recalled where. Perhaps, he had dreamt of them when he was asleep at some point, he didn't know. When the nurse dropped the gauzes she had used into a bin  she had a better look at the flag that had been embroidered onto the sleeve of his olive green uniform. "British soldier?" He nodded, he also liked her thick accent. It was a lovely mixture of both French and British accents. "Got into a fight?"

"I did." He sighed. "You should see how the other guy ended up." The nurse scoffed and smiled at him. He tried to smile but his face hurt. "Where am I?" Theseus asked after a short pause.

"France." He frowned.

"France?! The nearest medical outpost is all the way over here?" He incorporated and his eyes opened like plates. The nurse placed her hand on his shoulder and gently pressed him back onto a laying position.

"Sadly, yes. In Lille, to be precise. This has made many soldiers die, transportation was too slow." He sighed and laid his head back onto the pillow. "You're one of the lucky ones."

"How so?"

"You've lost lots of blood. Made it right on time to get a transfusion. Some others died in the truck."

"How did you even know my blood type?"

"It's on your file, monsieur..." She looked at it. When her green eyes met the paper, she frowned and looked at him. "Theseus Scamander." He frowned as well.

"What is it?"

"Had I known who you were, I wouldn't have used a needle." He frowned. "Wizard, right?" She whispered. He shook his head in denial.

"I- I don't know what you're talking about. Wizards do not exist."

"Relax." She pulled her own wand out from under her sleeve. "Over here Witches and Wizards do exist. You're among friends."

"Oh." She smiled. "How do you know who I am?"

"I know a few people that work at the different Ministries of Magic, by name though."

"Alright." He blinked a few times as he looked at the ceiling, trying to think of a French witch that looked like her, maybe he had seen her at a Ball or something. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind. "I suppose you can't use magic to cure these ones, right?" He meant the stab a soldier had given him in the battlefield as he rushed to aid a friend of his —that is the main reason he's here and almost died, by the way—, and the burned skin, consequence of a grenade explosion. She smiled tenderly.

"No, it's too risky. If I use it, everyone will wonder how did wounds like these were cured overnight. I wish I could, though."

"I understand." They nodded at each other as she got the thread and needle ready to sew the wound. "So, the wizards from France joined the Muggles too?" She scoffed.

"Of course, and many others from all over the world. You British people weren't the only ones to jump into their war. So did we, it's been quite...terrible over here." He simply looked at her. When she looked down and stared at her hands he could see the trauma. He knew that she has been there, at the front line too. Not fighting because, according to the Muggles, 'women couldn't fight' but aiding them. He assumed and he knew she had seen many terrible things as a nurse.

"Has it really been that terrible over here as many stories say?" He asked after a long break from the conversation. She sighed.

"I'll leave that deduction to you." She pointed with her head to the window. He followed her gaze and saw a barn, and many bodies piled up outside. The door was open, so, he as able to see many other lifeless people in there. There were, at least, two hundred. He frowned sadly. "The barn is full and those are just French citizens, the ones outside are the ones we just received. Bombs go off close to where we are, only those monsters would target wounded people and civilians. Only three nights ago, another medical outpost was bombed and burned to the ground. I rushed to help, but I was too late. It was a children's hospital." She paused for a moment. "Every night we wonder if this place will blow up or if they're about to attack when it gets too quiet. And even when the night is silent I can still hear the bombs going off, the planes, the screams..." She shook her head as she closed her eyes. He wanted to hug the stranger. He placed his hand over hers, her eyes opened and looked at him. There's something so interesting about touch, it feels so familiar and somehow it allows you to unlock a memory. Theseus' brain was racing too fast as an overwhelming amount of thoughts flooded his head.

"I'm sorry." He said and she shrugged before she sighed again.

"It's crazy to think that the Non-Magiques are able to build such machines but use them for such destruction." He nodded. "Nonsense, really." Another sigh. "Anyway, let me look at those wounds." They shared a comfortable silence in which she sewed the wound. She made sure to be quick and he tried not to grunt too loudly. Anaesthesia was working its wonders but he still felt a bit. "The consequences of the war." She offered a weak smile when she was done. She walked away from the bed he was resting on, put away the tools she had used, and washed her hands before she turned around to face him. "You should rest. I'll be back to check in on you in a while." He nodded as she opened the curtain of his area.

"What's your name?" He asked before she walked away, as she turned around to close the curtain. "I think I've seen you before. I know it." She smiled a bit. "I...I know you."

"Nous nous sommes rencontrés, il y a longtemps." He frowned and she chuckled. This rang many bells and felt oddly familiar. "Amélie Rosier." She said and closed the curtain before he could say anything. When she was a few steps away, she sighed and closed her eyes.

  Seeing him like this, cuts on his face, a black eye, dry blood...almost dead made Amélie's heart break. Did she still hate him? Yes. Did she still love him? Also yes. A bit. You can't so easily forget the first person you fell in love with. Even if they broke your heart, specially if it had been only four years ago. Truth is, it hurt to see how he had forgotten her completely while she has been trying to forget him as well, succeeding only a little.

  She didn't see his face as she walked away, though. He opened his blue eyes like plates once again and wanted to rush out of the bed he was on to hug her, to kiss her even, to tell her that he actually hadn't forgotten her, that his heart wouldn't allow his brain to unlock her memory, but that he has also tried, succeeding only a little to get over her entirely as well.

  I'm here to tell you that destiny and fate take a few funny turns to keep bringing people together, because they're meant to be together. Even if they've elected to ignore it. Even if they don't like each other. And specially if they don't know it.

  Amélie came back to check on Theseus every single day. They talked, but not like all those years ago. They'd look into each other's eyes, and still feel like all those years ago. This moment had brought them together again and they grew closer in a way neither should've.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

October 17th 1915.

  One day, enemy forces attacked the outpost, because —like Élie had mentioned— only people with a poisoned heart are capable of hurting those who hardly stand a chance.

  Theseus was walking outside and he saw how the enemy soldiers popped out from behind the trees and threw a couple handmade explosives close to where the nurses were. One of those explosives landed very close to where Amélie was. Theseus didn't think twice about it and rushed towards her.

"Élie!" He yelled, her attention snapping towards him. He tackled her a couple meters away from the explosive and protected her with his own body. The explosion got him, for the bomb had needles and screws inside.

  Amélie's face filled with horror and her heart sank to her feet when she felt Theseus' body faint over her. She managed to push him away right on time to use a protection spell that turned the bullets into dust. She stood up and started dragging Scamander into the little hospital. Her uniform stained with his blood and mud.

"Theseus?" No answer. "Theseus, please!" She pulled him one more time before collapsing beside him. She checked the pulse, it was still there. She felt relief. She heard more gunfire in the distance and Amélie protected him with her body, taking his face into her hands; the French soldiers —all Muggle, Wizards and Witches— started to fight the German, she stayed with Theseus briefly. "Theseus, please, talk to me." Élie looked at Theseus' face, there were cuts on it, he mumbled her name. "What?"

"Amélie." His eyes closed.

"Hold on, okay? Hold on." He grunted on the ground and nodded.  She made sure to leave a more lasting protection spell over the area she had left him in and rushed out to aid the rest.

  Now, the magical people didn't hold back, they fought back the German forces until they were completely gone. That's when they obliviated the rest that were left on their side. They knew the enemy wouldn't believe what the remaining soldiers had seen if they were to speak, for it's been centuries since Wizards existed in the Muggle world, speaking the truth would be considered a lie and believed to be a myth.

  When the guy with a kind face —named Jean-Alexandre Blanchett—, friend from the Auror Academy of hers, told Amélie they'd handle it, she rushed to help Scamander. When they were completely alone, she pulled out the needles with the use of magic to make it faster. It was hurting her the way he screamed and cried in pain.

  The only thing she could do was sing a song that her mother used to sing to her whenever she was sick and hold his hand tightly. His crying stopped when the last needle was off his back, a deep breath of relief left his lips, and the tight grip he had over the bedsheets and her hand went loose. The veins of his arms relaxing, his tears stopping.

"You're okay." She said. "You're okay." She dressed him up with a new olive green shirt after stitching the wounds and made sure he was comfortable. She was about to leave but he didn't let go of her.

"Don't. Please don't." She frowned a bit. "Please...stay with me." He said lowly. Élie hesitated for a moment but nodded in the end.

"Always. Im not going anywhere." He breathed in and out, and she stayed there, holding his hand. "Why did you do that?" He looked at her.

"Because I wouldn't be able to live my life knowing I could've saved you and I didn't, despite everything that happened between us." She frowned. "Even if I hate you a little, I would never forgive myself." She almost laughed but sighed instead.

"Try to sleep, okay? I'm right here." His hand squeezed hers and she squeezed his back, placing her free hand on the back of his neck.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

October 19th, 1915.

  The needles might be off his back, and the burned skin was recovering, but there was still one problem, he had contracted an infection. Theseus had a terrible fever that led to him having hallucinations and forgetting stuff and people temporarily for days. It was a miracle for him to overcome all of this, to survive.

  One night, he was shivering too badly, he was freezing. Amélie was there with him and when he opened his eyes as he felt a hand running through his curls, he frowned. He was holding her hand and his grip around her intensified but he had forgotten her face. He smiled though.

"Excuse me..." He whispered. Amélie stopped her movements.

"Hm?"

"Do you happen to know Amélie Rosier?" She frowned.

"Oui, monsieur. Kind of." He smiled more.

"She was a girl that attended to my school for a year a while ago. She was my first love." Amelie hipped and Theseus sighed. "You look a lot like her. Your hair is shorter, though." She smiled. "She'd look good with shorter hair." He added after a while.

"I'll make sure to tell her."

"I should've told her, you know?" He said after a while, his smile fading.

"About her hair?" He smiled a bit again.

"No. That I loved her."

"What?" She asked.

"I loved her." She held her breath. "A part of me still does."

"That surely was years ago." He frowned. "Do you really...feel that way? After all this time?"

"I think so." She shook her head. "A part of me hates her still. But...I don't know. All I know is...that...I should've...told her." He felt himself drifting away.

"Go back to sleep, okay? You're tired and saying things." He frowned even more as he closed his eyes, giving in to the tiredness.

"Tell her...that I...still..." He fell deep into his sleep. She closed her eyes, and sighed. She felt the same way, she hated him, but she still loved him. This whole situation was too confusing. She stood up and kissed his forehead.

"Goodbye, Theseus." Moments later, she walked away. He felt something slipping through his fingers, but his eyelids were too heavy to open that night. Had he been able to, he would've held on to her for dear life and not let her walk away from him again. He would've told her to please don't go and stay with him forever, but he couldn't. His body didn't let him.

  Very next morning, when Theseus opened his eyes hoping to find hers, he found a girl her age only that she was blonde instead of a redhead, a bit taller and her eyes weren't green, they were brown.

"Where is she?" The nurse turned around.

"Excuse me?" She asked. Her voice was far tender than Élie's and he didn't quite like it.

"Amélie. Where is she?" He tried to stand from bed but she forced him to lay back down. His wounds weren't cured yet and his body still ached. "Where-?" He groaned.

"Lay down, Monsieur Scamander."

"I want you to tell me where she is, please."

"She who?"

"Amélie Rosier, my nurse."

"There's no record of an Amélie Rosier here, sir."

"What?"

"There was a nurse named Angelina Rocher but no one by the name you're giving me." That's her. Angelina. Her middle name. He thought, I mean, those were her same initials. Most people here are Muggles, she could've obliviated them to protect her identity, clever girl.

"Alright, then...where did this Angelina Rocher go?" He smiled a bit and almost laughed, the name sounded ridiculous.

"I don't have that information."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, I just know she was asked to be re-stationed somewhere else."

"Asked? Where?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry." Theseus sighed and laid down again. "I need you to be still for me to check on your wounds. I'll be quick." He blinked a few times and sighed. Then a thought popped into his head. Had he actually seen her?

  He had. Or...had he? He was aware that he had been seeing things that hadn't been there, like his father, whom has been dead for three years now. No. He had seen her. He had been seeing her ever since he got to the medical outpost and he hadn't been hallucinating since he got here.

  He knew he had seen her, that she had been there, with him. He felt her fading touch around his right hand. Yes, she had been there. After fucking everything up years ago, and despite hating her because of his broken heart, he had forced himself to memorise her. The way her hand would feel against his, her perfume and shampoo scents, the way she played with his hair, the way she played with her own hair, the way she tasted. Her lips. He could feel the ghost of a kiss over his skin, he could feel it. Wait. You can't feel fading kisses...or can you? No, he could. He was feeling it. It was a tattooed kiss given by the ghost of her.

  This tormented Theseus until he was fully recovered and was sent back to London. He focused on the stain of that kiss over his forehead whenever things got too bad in the front lines, until the war ended a year later, and whenever he had those night terrors that would keep him awake all night.

  Like I said, war ended a year after the incidents in France, on November 11th of the year 1916. When Scamander returned to the British Ministry of Magic, he was regarded a War Hero for his efforts. Amélie was regarded with that very same title in France as well. They went on with their lives, and like they had done before, they tried to forget and move on. And they succeeded in closing that chapter of their lives after a while, the one in which they still felt something for each other.

  With the time, they were admitted into the Auror office of their respective Ministries, there, they met different people and eventually, found love again. Amélie and Jean were the second and third in command of the Bureau, they spent a great deal of time together fighting random surges of Dark Arts in different cities of France, there, they ended up falling for each other.

  Meanwhile, miles away from there, Theseus had met Leta Lestrange again. He was delighted to know that someone close to his family had joined the Ministry. He had hopes that Newt could join him, but, it wasn't like that. He had suggested her to join the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. There, she worked as the assistant of said department's leader, that meant she got to see Theseus almost every day, and they enjoyed each other's company. Therefore, they ended up falling in love as well.

  This was the way their hearts decided to keep the feelings they felt for one another deep into a trunk and threw them into the bottom of their mind. They found happiness again somewhere else and things were better again.