Newt and ______ got back to the apartment around 3 o'clock, surprised to see Queenie home already. Walking in, Queenie could see the surprise on Newt's face and didn't need to read his mind to know what he was going to ask. "I was sent home early," Queenie told him simply, trying not to go into too much detail in front of ______. "They got swamped with a huge case today suddenly, and they told me to go home because I wasn't qualified to be around, but Tina's going to be out late tonight." The annoyance was clear in her voice: she wanted to be included as much as Tina was.

______ looked sympathetic towards her. "I'm sorry, Queenie. Why don't they involve you as much as Tina?"

"She's higher up than me," Queenie shook her head and stood up, looking to change the subject before ______ asked any more questions about her work. "It's no big deal. Did something happen? What're you guys doing home so early? I thought you guys were going to be in town for a while."

______ fell silent and Newt looked at Queenie, trying to communicate a message to her and hoped that she was reading his mind, which she usually was. Something came up. I'm hoping to get ______ to open up to me to find out a little more about her and the situation, is the general message he was attempting to get across.

However, Queenie read it in a completely different way.

"Oh, well..." Queenie looked over and grabbed her handbag. "There's a few things I need to do in town, groceries and... things. I'm going to leave you two alone here for a while," she winked at Newt while ______'s eyes stuck to the ground.

Newt blushed lightly, but still enough to catch Queenie's attention. That's not the way I really meant it, he thought to himself, but was grateful Queenie got the general message to leave. "That's alright," Newt told her. "We'll be alright."

Queenie looked over to ______, who still hadn't said a word since she asked what had happened. She was really starting to worry, but she hoped that Newt would be able to get something out of her. In the meantime, Queenie had to figure out exactly what she was going to do while she was out of the house. The thought crossed her mind to go to Jacob's bakery. "I'll see you guys later tonight," Queenie told them, leaving moments later.

The room fell silent as Newt and ______ were left alone, and Newt had to think about how he was going to ask her what was on her mind. He took their food and set it down on the coffee table in front of the Goldstein's couch. "We should eat, it's been an eventful afternoon and you need to get some energy back in you," he told ______, gesturing to sit next to him. He had been worried about her since the second they left the café.

"Okay," she mumbled quietly and sat down next to Newt, quietly beginning to eat.

Silence hung heavy in the air before Newt took a deep breath and got to the heart of the matter: he was worried about her. "______, are you alright? You haven't been the same since we were in the café. I want to help you get your memory back, but I need to know more about what you can remember."

"I'm sorry," ______ said, taking Newt by surprise. He didn't expect her to apologize, she hadn't really done anything wrong. "It's just... hard to talk about what I remember when it's not exactly pleasant."

"You're starting to remember things?" Newt asked, curiosity overcoming him. "How much can you remember?"

"Not much. Not anything helpful, really. More like..." she thought about what they reminded her of. "Slivers of a conversation. Fragments of a bigger picture, and they all feel like they're connect to the same person."

"The person who wrote you that letter?" Newt asked, and she nodded. "Do you... know who he is or what the conversations were about?"

She went silent again for a moment, and Newt felt like he overstepped. Instead of answering, she took a few more bites of her food. Eventually, she began to speak again. "I don't know yet. All I know is whoever it is, it's probably for the best that I'm not around them anymore."

"What can you remember?" Newt pressed.

This time she stood up, beginning to pace back and forth. Newt watched her, examining her movements. She looked like an animal trapped in a cage as she reached around her mind, and Newt felt horrible to see her this way. "I can't remember their name; I can tell you that much. I can't tell you their name, or what they look like, or anything that would be helpful. I can remember emotions and a few segments of conversation, and that's it. I'm sorry, Newt, I just don't know. I don't know why anybody would want to steal your case, or why is was so closely planned, or anything like that."

"It's alright, you don't need to apologize," Newt told her, standing up, trying to get her to stop pacing. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"It just... these memories..." she trailed off.

Newt led her back to the couch and urged her to sit down. "What about them?"

"They're just..." she looked away from Newt, wiping away a tear that had started to fall. "I don't know. I'm sorry, I don't mean to get emotional. I don't understand."

"It's alright, don't worry about getting emotional. Do you want to talk about them?"

She hesitated. "There's not much to talk about. I... don't want to worry you."

"I'll worry either way," Newt tried lightening up the mood. "I want to help, I really do. I want you to know that you can confide in me, ______. If you want to keep your memories private, that's okay, it's up to you, but all I want to do is help you. you are not a burden, and you have nothing to be sorry about."

______ smiled for just a moment, and Newt's heart fluttered. "You're really nice for a man who knocked me out with just a case," she tried joking, then sighed. "... and I believe you. I know that you're just trying to help, but it's... hard to talk about it."

"Why?"

"There's a lot of fear," she admitted. "The first thing I ever remembered was that night I found that confusing letter. I didn't understand a word of what it said, but I remember... an emotion. A quick thought that screamed please don't be angry with me. I... didn't understand it, I still don't really understand it, but I know it's my thought. They're my words."

Newt nodded along, signaling that he was still paying attention. "What do you think you meant by them?"

"It felt like something that... something that I thought often. As if I was consistently scared of someone being angry with me. Then there was another memory, I remembered it the other day when we were out. You said something to me that was almost word-for-word the beginning of this memory, but whoever was speaking to me... they didn't care. Their words felt empty. All I could remember was them telling me 'Don't worry, ______, it'll be alright. Are you losing too much blood?' I wish I could remember who said it, or why, or... what had happened."

______ started tearing up, and Newt wanted to reach out, to comfort her, to pull her close to him and tell her that it was going to be okay, but... he hesitated. He didn't want to touch her and make things awkward or make her feel worse. She wiped a tear away as it fell down her face and continued. "I wish I knew, because maybe then I'd know who I am. Then today, at that café, when she said that name... Draculous. It just brought on another memory, another line of thought. From my own mind again: It's not my fault, please, not again. I... I don't know what it means, but I know..."

The tears had been consistently flowing from her eyes, and Newt gave up on giving her a bubble of space and felt compelled to reach out, rubbing her back gently and inching close to her, shushing her as she finally sobbed. "Hey, ______, it's okay. You're safe right now, okay? Whoever or whatever you're remembering isn't here, it'll be okay. I promise."

He rubbed her back for a few minutes before she calmed down. "Maybe it's better that I don't remember," she stated. "Maybe I'll be happier forgetting who I used to be."

I need to know your connection to magic, Newt thought. Or they'll never stop chasing you. "Don't say that, I'm sure all your memories aren't bad. There has to be someone you cared about... maybe that boyfriend the woman mentioned?" Newt felt horrible asking, he really hoped it wasn't true. A huge part of his heart sank when he thought about her being in love with someone else, and he wasn't entirely sure why.

______ shook her head. "I don't think so. Based on what I remembered when she said his name, I don't think... I don't think we were on good terms."

Newt shrugged, unsure what to say. ______ wiped away the remainder of her tears and put on a huge smile. "Thank you, Newt," she told him sincerely. "For listening, and for... helping me."

"It's no problem, really," he told her.

"Really though, it is. Most strangers would abandon someone in the alley if they knocked them out, but not you. You stayed. You're really kind. That makes you special, Newt Scamander," she bumped him and laughed a little. "I know I'm kind of a handful, and I haven't been the most cooperative, but... I want to change that. I want to get on good terms with you, you've been so kind."

"I..." Newt struggled for words, and he hoped the blush he felt wasn't too noticeable on his face. "You haven't been too much trouble, everything you've gotten mad about is justifiable. I just want you to know that I... that Tina, Queenie and I really want to help you."

She stood up from the couch and offered Newt a hand. "Well, from this point forward, I'll work with you. Not against you. Deal?"

Newt took her hand. "Deal."

She pulled him up, taking Newt by surprise. As he stumbled a little, she giggled. "Let's make tea, yeah? You're British, I'm sure you're great at making it."

"That is a stereotype," Newt told her, smiling a little bit and looking away. "... but I can make some good tea, anyways."

"Then it's settled: tea," she smiled, heading towards the kitchen. She wanted to move on from the dark subject, and she thought of no better way to do that than spend the rest of the day with Newt. He calmed her down like nobody else ever could.

She couldn't believe how lucky she was to run into him, and Newt was unbelievably happy that he crossed paths with her. He was just hoping, in the back of his mind, that it could turn into something more.