⠀ ❀᭢᜴꤬ ⠀ 𝓒𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝓕𝑶𝑼𝑹 ི᭨ᩧྀ ⠀ ⠀ ⏖

❝You see, Jacob and I, we're getting married!❞

London, England
- United Kingdom
( September, 1927)

𝓣he voices grew clearer as they neared one of the rooms, and Sabine caught snippets of an argument—a sharp remark from the woman, followed by a gruff reply from the man. She shot a quick glance at Newt, who nodded to her in silent agreement before pushing the door open.

Inside, they found a blonde woman and a tall man standing in the middle of the room, locked in an intense argument over a broken vase that lay shattered on the floor between them. The pair froze mid-sentence the moment Newt and Sabine entered, their expressions immediately shifting to ones of startled guilt, like children caught in the act.

Sabine's grip on her wand loosened as she noticed Newt lower his own. She followed his lead, but her attention quickly turned to the look of shock on Newt's face as he stared at the pair. Something about the way his features softened with recognition told her this wasn't just a random intrusion.

The vase shattered loudly as it hit the floor, but the man barely seemed to notice. Instead, he opened his arms wide and strode toward Newt, his face lighting up with an infectious grin.

"Hey!" he called out, his voice booming with enthusiasm. "Newwwwt!" he sang, dragging the name out dramatically. "Get over here, you maniac."

Before Newt could react, the man wrapped him in a bear hug, his laughter loud and hearty. Newt stiffened slightly, caught off guard, but managed an awkward pat on the man's back.

Sabine, standing a step behind Newt, observed the interaction with curiosity. Her sharp ear picked up their distinctly American accents, and she quickly surmised that these must be friends from across the pond.

The blonde woman standing by the doorway gave a kind smile, brushing rainwater off her coat. "Hope you don't mind, Newt," she said. "We let ourselves in. It's raining out there—cats and dogs! London's cold."

As Newt disentangled himself from the man's grip, Sabine stepped out from behind him. The blonde woman's attention immediately shifted, her gaze sharpening with interest. "And who's this?" she asked, her tone light but pointed.

Sabine offered a polite smile. "I'm Sabine," she said, introducing herself. "A friend."

"Ah," the man interjected, grinning broadly as he stepped toward her. "Well, I'm Jacob, also a friend—and a hugger!" Before Sabine could protest, he pulled her into a warm, bear-like embrace.

Sabine blinked in surprise, but his easy, genuine demeanor made her smile. "Nice to meet you, dear!" Jacob said as he released her.

"And I'm Queenie," the blonde woman added, her smile softening.

Newt, his tone carrying a mix of confusion and delight, tilted his head at Jacob. "You were supposed to be obliviated."

Jacob let out a wheezing laugh, shrugging off his wet coat as Queenie helped him pull it off completely. "I know! It didn't work, pal. You said it yourself—the potion only erases bad memories. And me? I didn't have any." He paused, gesturing animatedly. "Don't get me wrong, I had some weird ones and some scary ones. But this angel over here," he said, nodding toward Queenie, "she filled me in on all the bad parts. And, uh...here we are, I guess, huh?"

Newt smiled, a soft laugh escaping him. "This is wonderful!" His gaze darted past them expectantly. "Wait, is—Tina?"

"Oh, it's just us, honey," Queenie answered quickly, her tone light and reassuring. "Why don't I whip us up some dinner?"

"Oh, it's already made," Newt said, gesturing toward the kitchen. "Sabine and I were just about to—"

Queenie raised her hands, shaking her head. "Oh, we're intruding—"

"No, no!" Sabine interjected quickly, her voice warm and sincere. "I promise you're not. Stay."

Jacob gave her an approving grin. "I like her already!"

With a flick of his wand, Newt set the table, the plates floating neatly into position, food steaming and ready as they settled onto the polished wood. The effortless precision drew an impressed glance from Sabine, though she said nothing.

Jacob plopped into his chair with a loud, satisfied sigh. Queenie followed, her fingers deftly tucking a napkin into Jacob's shirt collar as if tending to a child.

Newt pulled out a chair for Sabine, who murmured a quiet "thank you" before sitting across from him. The food smelled wonderful, but the atmosphere grew awkwardly tense as Queenie broke the silence.

"Tina and I aren't talking," she announced abruptly, slicing through the calm.

Newt looked up, puzzled. "Why not?"

"Oh, well," Queenie said, twirling her wand between her fingers, "you know... She found out about Jacob and me seeing each other, and she didn't like it because of the law. Not allowed to date No-Majs, not allowed to marry them, blah-blah-blah."

As Queenie spoke, Sabine's attention drifted to Jacob, who sat silently. Queenie was cutting his food into small, precise bites while he stared at the table, a far-off look clouding his expression. Sabine caught Newt's eye and tilted her head slightly in concern. Newt raised his brows as if to say, I see it too.

"But she was all in a tizzy anyway because of you," Queenie added casually, her tone light but pointed.

Newt blinked. "Me?"

"Yeah, you, Newt," Queenie replied, rummaging through her bag. She pulled out a glossy magazine and flipped it open with a dramatic flourish. "It was in Spellbound," she said, sliding it onto the table.

The headline screamed in bold letters:

NEWT TO BE WED

Queenie read aloud with relish: "Newt Scamander with fiancée Leta Lestrange."

Sabine kept her face neutral, her attention fixed on her food, though her grip on her fork tightened ever so slightly.

Newt leaned forward, shaking his head in confusion. "No, Theseus is marrying Leta, not me."

"Oh! Oh dear," Queenie gasped, her cheeks flushing. "Well, see, Teen read that, and she started dating someone else. He's an Auror. His name is Achilles Tolliver."

Jacob suddenly burst out laughing, slapping the table. "Tolliver!" he howled, his laughter bordering on manic.

Newt straightened, watching Jacob with a wary expression. Sabine, trying to remain composed, focused on her plate, though her unease was evident.

Queenie patted Jacob's arm affectionately. "Anyway," she said, her voice brightening, "we're real excited to be here, Newt. This is a... well, this is a special trip for us. You see, Jacob and I, we're getting married!"

Jacob beamed and raised his glass dramatically. "I'm marrying Queenie!" he shouted before promptly throwing the wine in his own face.

Sabine's eyes widened in shock, her fork dropping and clattering against her plate.

Queenie laughed, flicking her wand to conjure sparkling confetti that rained down over the table. The sudden display made Sabine jump, her pulse quickening at the abrupt noise and movement.

As the glittering confetti settled, Queenie's eyes darted to Newt. Her expression shifted as if reading something unspoken in his thoughts. She narrowed her eyes, her lips curving into a nervous laugh. "What?" she said, her voice high-pitched and defensive. "I have not!"

Newt let out a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping. "Will you stop reading my mind?"

Sabine snapped her head toward Queenie, her face paling as her mind raced. "You're a Legilimens?" she stammered, her voice tinged with panic.

Queenie tilted her head, startled by Sabine's reaction, but Sabine quickly stood, brushing her napkin against her lap. "I really need to use the loo," she said, her voice hurried and uneven. Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked briskly out of the room.

Newt's brows furrowed in concern, his gaze following Sabine's retreating figure. He made a slight motion to get up but stopped himself, letting her go.

Queenie, oblivious to Sabine's distress, focused on cleaning the wine off Jacob's face, her wand moving in smooth, practiced strokes as she hummed to herself.

Sabine shut the bathroom door behind her, the click of the latch echoing in the small, dimly lit room. She leaned against the door for a moment, her chest rising and falling as she tried to steady her breathing. The flickering candlelight above the mirror cast soft, wavering shadows across her face as she stepped closer to the sink.

She placed her hands on the porcelain edge, gripping it tightly, her knuckles whitening. Slowly, she raised her gaze to the mirror, meeting her own reflection. Her eyes, wide with unease, seemed darker than usual, the fear simmering beneath the surface like an unrelenting storm.

"This is why you don't get close to people, Sabine," she muttered, her voice trembling yet filled with frustration. "You know better."

Her reflection didn't argue.

She straightened her posture, running a hand through her dark hair before letting it fall to her side. The polished, elegant woman in the mirror was a facade, one she worked tirelessly to maintain. But the truth—her truth—was a shadow she could never fully escape.

Her thoughts spiraled back to Queenie's casual revelation. A Legilimens. Sabine's chest tightened as a fresh wave of anxiety rolled through her. A legilimens is what almost revealed her secret at Bauxbaton's all those years ago.

What if Queenie had sensed something? What if Newt, perceptive as he was, began to put the pieces together?

The curse of being a werewolf haunted her daily, lurking behind every interaction, every smile. The fear of her secret slipping out felt suffocating, a weight she carried alone. Her mind raced with possibilities, each one worse than the last.

Opening her eyes again, Sabine smoothed the fabric of her dress and forced a steadying breath. The mask had to stay on. Whatever storm brewed within her, she'd have to weather it alone.

With one last glance at her reflection, she straightened her spine and reached for the door.

Sabine stepped out of the bathroom, still rattled by the sudden turn of events. She wasn't expecting to see Queenie storm past her with a suitcase in hand. Queenie's eyes were red, tears threatening to spill as she muttered a quick, "Nice meetin' ya," before rushing out the door.

Jacob, appearing much more composed now, turned to Newt. "It was very nice to see you, where the hell am I right now?" He called back, bewildered.

"London," Newt answered, his tone soft but tired.

Jacob blinked, looking around in a daze. "Oh... Damnit I always wanted to go here! Queenie?!" He scrambled to follow her out the door, leaving Sabine standing there, her thoughts spinning.

Sabine slowly turned and made her way back into the room, only to find Newt standing awkwardly in the center, shifting from one foot to the other, clearly unsure of how to handle the situation. The air was thick with discomfort.

"Newt..." Sabine's voice cut through the silence. She crossed her arms, her frustration rising.

"Hm?" Newt responded, still looking a bit lost in the chaos.

"What the hell was all that?" Sabine couldn't contain her irritation. She was trying to make sense of everything she'd just witnessed.

Newt shifted uncomfortably, giving a small sigh. "Rather long story..."

Sabine's patience snapped. "I'm tired of you saying that!" She snapped, her voice sharp as she began gathering her things. The words hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken frustration.

"Wait, wait—don't go!" Newt moved toward her and gently grabbed her arm, but quickly let go, realizing his mistake.

Sabine stood still, her heart pounding. She let out a slow breath, calming herself before turning to face him. "Fine, then explain."

Newt swallowed, gathering his thoughts, then began speaking with a heavy, almost defeated tone. "Alright, well... I met Jacob in New York when I was investigating some magical creatures that had gotten loose. Jacob was a No-Maj, a Muggle, but he had no idea about the magical world at the time. He was just a regular guy, a baker, who got caught up in all of this because of me."

Sabine nodded slowly, understanding where this was going. She already knew about No-Majs and had heard the name Jacob Kowalski before. She listened closely as Newt continued.

"Anyway, while I was trying to round up these creatures, I also ended up getting tangled up in something much darker... There was a woman, Tina Goldstein, an Auror. She was suspicious of me at first, but eventually, we worked together, trying to figure out what was going on. Tina's sister, Queenie, was a Legilimens, which means she could read minds. She was always... different, but kindhearted. They were both involved in this whole mess, and it became clear that there was something far worse going on in New York than just some runaway creatures."

Sabine's brow furrowed, listening intently. "And then?" she prompted, sensing the heavy weight of what he was about to say.

Newt hesitated for a moment before continuing, his voice quieter. "We discovered that a boy named Credence Barebone had been carrying an Obscurus, a dark, dangerous force inside of him. The Obscurus was a result of extreme repression, the magic of a young child being suppressed. Credence's magical abilities had been completely repressed, causing him to lash out uncontrollably, his power building and threatening to destroy everything around him."

Sabine's mind flashed back to the lesson she had learned about Obscuruses at Hogwarts—the dark, destructive force that came from a child's magic being suppressed, usually because of abuse or fear. She nodded, already knowing the danger that came with an Obscurus.

"Credence..." Newt continued, his voice strained, "he didn't understand what he was doing, or what he was. But he was hunted by someone far worse, someone even more dangerous than the Obscurus itself—Grindelwald."

Sabine's heart skipped a beat. She knew about Grindelwald. Everyone did. His name had haunted magical society for years. He was one of the darkest wizards of all time, and his desire to dominate the world had torn lives apart.

"Grindelwald?" she repeated, her voice tight with disbelief.

"Yes," Newt said, his tone grave. "Grindelwald was manipulating Credence, using him for his own ends. He wanted to use the power of the Obscurus to further his cause, to control the magical world, to wage war against Muggles... all of it. He knew that Credence had the potential to be a weapon, and he planned to exploit him."

Sabine clenched her fists, her thoughts swirling with everything she knew about Grindelwald and the atrocities he had committed.

Newt continued, his voice growing quieter. "I tried to protect Credence. Tina and I, we tried to stop Grindelwald from getting to him. But it wasn't enough. Credence... he was lost to us. And then we had to face Grindelwald himself. We stopped him, but it was only a small victory. The real danger was still out there."

Sabine could feel the weight of his words settle in the room. She waited for him to continue, already suspecting where this was going.

"And now?" she asked softly.

Newt swallowed hard, his expression darkening. "The reason I was so upset leaving the Ministry today is because of Credence. He's alive. They're hunting him, Sabine. The Aurors are after him, and Grindelwald's influence is still spreading. It's not over. And I don't know what's going to happen next. I don't know if Credence can be saved."

Sabine looked at him for a long moment, processing everything he had said. "So you're telling me... Credence is out there, and Grindelwald is still pulling the strings?"

Newt nodded, his expression haunted. "Yes. And I have to do everything I can to protect him. We can't let Grindelwald win."

Sabine sighed, sitting back down. "It sounds like you're in the middle of something much bigger than I thought, Newt. But... I understand now. You're not just dealing with magical creatures. You're dealing with something dangerous, something that could change everything."

Newt nodded again, his eyes filled with a mix of determination and exhaustion. "I just need to make sure that I don't lose any more innocent lives in this fight."

Sabine's eyes landed on a torn-up piece of paper on the ground, her curiosity piqued. She bent down to pick it up and muttered under her breath, "Papyrus reparo." The crumpled paper straightened itself, revealing a postcard from Paris. As she examined it closer, she noticed it was addressed to Queenie from Tina.

She held it out to Newt. "Here, looks like it's from Tina."

Newt took the postcard from her, carefully reading it. His brow furrowed, and when he finished, he sighed deeply. "Looks like I'm going to Paris."

Sabine blinked, processing what he said. "Paris?" She echoed, following him as he hurried down the stairs toward his creature rooms.

"Yes," Newt replied, barely slowing his pace. "I have to find Tina, and... well, there's more to this than I thought."

"Well, I'm coming with you," Sabine said firmly, determination in her voice.

Newt stopped mid-step and turned toward her, his eyes widening in surprise. "No, Sabine, it's—it's dangerous."

Sabine raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "I'm not asking, Scamander. Besides, you don't know the first thing about Paris. I do."

Newt hesitated, his gaze meeting hers, torn between wanting to protect her and knowing that she was right. "But it's not just about Paris, Sabine. It's Grindelwald. And if you come, you'll be in danger too."

Sabine stepped closer, undeterred. "I've faced danger before. I've handled worse. If you're going, I'm going."

Newt sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I suppose you're not going to back down on this one."

"Nope." Sabine smiled a little, her confidence shining through. "Besides, I can't let you go gallivanting off to Paris without me. I have a soft spot for that city."

Reluctantly, Newt nodded. "Alright. But you stay close. It's not going to be a vacation."

Sabine gave him a reassuring smile. "I wouldn't expect it to be."