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❛ ᴏғ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀs & ᴍᴇɴ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 ❜    ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ғᴏʀᴄᴇғᴜʟʟʏ ɪɴᴠɪᴛᴇᴅ
ɢᴜᴇsᴛs ꒱


❝ I'LL MISS YOU, IS ALL ❞

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The No-Maj from earlier was lying passed-out on the ground and was barely conscious when the curly-haired man searched him for injury. He found three dark pink spots in a relatively straight line on the man's neck. Lyra sighed. "Well, the least we could do is fix his house."

He nodded and rose to his feet before he pulled out his wand. Together, they cast Reparo to put the building back together as Tina ran up the steps to join them. She found them with Newt sitting on the bed with his briefcase in his lap while the brunette stood in front of him with a worried expression on her face. They both looked up at her appearance. "It was open?"

"Just a smidge," he answered quietly to try and deflect her anger.

"That crazy Niffler things on the loose again?"

"Try like ten of them," Lyra mumbled.

"What?"

"Might be," Newt said quickly. He shot the Asian woman a warning look.

"Then look for it! Look!" she snapped at them before she approached the Muggle and crouched down next to him. "His neck's bleeding, he's hurt! Wake up, Mr. No-Maj." A hissing noise startled her into a yelling frenzy as a pale creature leapt from the shadows it had been hiding in.

Lyra launched herself forward and her hands closed around its squirming body as Newt yanked open his case. Together, they wrestled the animal into the safety of the enclosed space despite its unwillingness to go. Tina stared at them in shock. "Mercy Lewis, what is that?"

"Nothing to worry about," the curly-haired man answered.

At the same time she replied, "it's a Murtlap."

"What else have you got in there?"

"I think you'll be happier not knowing," the Asian woman said evenly. "You already seem kind of stressed right now."

"Kind of?" Tina repeated in a high-pitched, disbelieving voice. "Kind of—"

Thankfully, the Muggle decided to wake up at this moment, saving Lyra from a furious lecture about breaking yet more laws. His eyes widened at the sight of the pair. "You!"

"Hello," the wizard greeted him awkwardly.

The American witch quickly placed a hand on the man's arm. "Easy Mr.—"

"Kowalski," he supplied. "Jacob."

Newt lifted his wand to point it at the Muggle, prompting Tina to put herself between them. "You can't obliviate him! We need him as a witness."

Lyra stared at her in incredulously. "What? We've literally had to listen to you scold us for hours about letting him get away the first time—"

"He's hurt! He looks ill!" she protested.

"He'll be fine," Newt put in. "Murtlap bites aren't serious. I admit that is a slightly more severe reaction than I've seen but if it was really serious, he'd have. . ."

"What?"

"Well, the first symptom would be flames out of his anus. . ." Lyra failed to hide the snicker that escaped and, familiar with her occasional immaturity, the curly-haired man just sighed.

"This is balled up!" Tina exclaimed.

The brunette rolled her eyes slightly as they broke out into another argument and instead attempted to help the struggling Muggle up. "I'm sorry, sir. It seems that today has terrible luck for you."

He accepted her help, albeit warily. "Yeah, well, what's new?"

She gave him a sympathetic look. "I can assure you that you won't die. . . er— probably." She paused. "Definitely. No, probably— at least that way I can't be wrong."

"That's reassuring," he grunted. "Can— can you tell me something?"

"Alright," Lyra agreed.

"Am I dreaming? I'm dreaming, right?"

"Um, would you like the honest answer or the easier one?"

"Whichever one will make everything go back to normal," the Muggle pleaded.

Tina spoke in a slightly louder voice to address all members of the trio: "you're all coming with me."

 ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

If you asked Queenie Goldstein to make a list of the pros and cons of being a Legilimens, she could probably talk for at least seven hours. The cons were truly disadvantages: most (but with the rare exception) men were disgusting. She'd been privy to more than one lewd thought and it wasn't just about her— there were too many men to count that had those types of thoughts about multiple women at once. Their minds were loud and arrogant, most likely derived from the privileges they received in society. They often thought of three things: money, sports and women. (Not necessarily in that order.)

The final category, on the other hand, could be equally unfavorable. Women were even more critical than what they said in public and often made rude comments about passers-by that were unprovoked. While bits of gossip were fun to listen in on occasionally, too much could be overwhelming and just as degrading as men's thoughts. Thankfully, though, women's minds were quieter and easier to ignore.

Even with all the bad there was also good. Children's thoughts were usually sweet and so were their grandparents'. She did have to admit that it was advantageous to know if someone was genuinely kind or putting on a front. But, if you were to ask Queenie about what the best thoughts were, she would answer simply: those who were in love.

Love was the strongest emotion she picked up from those she felt around her. It was also the most unique as no two people felt love the same way. Sometimes it was in short, erratic bursts or soothing waves. Sometimes it was as loud as a shout or as quiet as a whisper, yet to be acknowledged by the person feeling it. It could be all-consuming or a gentle warmth.

It was the current emotion she felt from the people who were entering the apartment building. She recognized Tina's immediately; their sisterly bond was as familiar to her as the back of her hand. There was also a unfamiliar addition that came from the woman she had yet to meet: her love came in the booms of fireworks, bright and bursting with light.

While she normally found British people harder to read, the woman's mind was loud and clear so she didn't have her usual trouble with accents. Curiosity about this difference tugged at her and before she could stop herself, Queenie dove further into the Asian woman's mind:

An older, white-haired man in judge's robes peered down imperiously at the two teenagers— younger versions of the two foreigners who had entered the building. The boy stared at his feet while the girl met the judge's gaze unflinchingly. A middle-aged man stood just behind them with his hands on the students' shoulders. The judge spoke in a drawling voice: "according to multiple eyewitness accounts, Miss Lyra Yeoh and Mister Newton Scamander were found at the scene of the attack. The injured student has claimed that one of the two aforementioned students set the magical beast— a jarvey— upon him while he tried to call for a professor's help. Do the accused deny this order of events?"

Lyra opened her mouth to protest as her eyes flashed with annoyance. Bitter feelings towards a girl with bushy, dark hair rose to the surface as she made to argue with the judge. A firm, warning squeeze on her shoulder from the man behind her caused her grit her teeth instead. "No, sir."

"Now, the student was unable to identify precisely which of the two offenders were responsible for his injuries. We ask you to come forward now and confess."

The brunette's hands balled into fists as she longed to shout: it was Leta! Leta did it, Leta did it, Leta did it! They were innocent!

Her hesitation prompted Newt to speak up quietly as he refused to meet the man's eyes. "It was me."

His words caused her to jerk her head towards him. "What? No it wasn't! Don't be stupid, Newt. I did it."

For the first time since the hearing started, his eyes moved from the floor to somewhere around her nose. "There's no need for both of us to be expelled, Ly."

"Exactly," she insisted in a low, furious tone (but only because he was being so thick-headed about this.) "Which is why it should be me—"

The judge cleared his throat. "If you two wouldn't mind, we are happy to expel you both—"

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The scene changed to show the Asian woman working at a desk, older now. She was very clearly bored of her task as she tapped her fingers absentmindedly against the wood while she waited for her focus to return. Office noises came from the surrounding area as her cubicle was like the hundreds of other ones: all connected to each other with open tops and no doors. Her desk was starkly bare except for her work papers and a framed picture of herself and the curly-haired boy— who, as usual, wasn't looking at the camera directly.

The monotony of her day was broken up by the sudden arrival of her best friend who all but skidded into her workspace. He had an unusually bright expression on his face and he seemed to be practically bouncing with uncontained excitement. "It passed!"

She looked up from her work in confusion, though a small smile curled on her lips at his exuberance. "What passed?"

"The commission from Obscurus Books— you know, the one I told you about. They agreed to finance my work in the field!"

An even brighter smile appeared on her face then and she leapt up to share in his eagerness. "That's amazing! Oh, Newt, I knew they'd agree! When do you start?"

"In May! That's only—"

Some of her enthusiasm dulled. "—in two weeks." She wasn't ready to say goodbye to him yet. Lyra sat heavily back in her chair.

Newt gave her a confused look. "What's wrong?"

The brunette shrugged, and this time she was the one who didn't meet his eyes. "I'll miss you, is all."

"I won't," he paused. "Uh, I mean— I won't miss you. No, that's not— I'm trying to say that you won't have to. Or, well—" She watched him with a slightly amused expression, used to his stumbling over words. "What I'm trying to ask is: will you come with me?"

Joy— pure and unbridled— exploded in her chest as she beamed up at him. This was the first time he'd ever asked her to spend time with him. It was when he did unusual, unexpected things like this that the feelings she tried to forget she had returned full-force.

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The scenes flashed by faster after that and Queenie only caught glimpses of their travels abroad, but there were a few that stood out— and all of them had the quiet man in them. He stood on an outcropping of rock in the desert with the setting sun casting a golden glow to his face. They sat up late around a fire, talking about the animals they were learning from and firelight flickered across his features to throw them into shadow and sharp relief in turn. It was of when he stayed up late at night as he tried to finish his first draft and fell asleep with his fingers dirty from ink and positioned awkwardly in his chair— Lyra would come around and set his papers in order, find a blanket and clean his hands.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Before Queenie could find out further if the curly-haired man returned these feelings, her sister opened the door to the apartment and she quickly busied herself with the laundry. Acting as if she hadn't sensed them coming, she paused at the doorway to the sitting room. "Teenie, you brought men home?"

Her gaze flicked to where the Asian woman stood by the door, intrigued to see her in real-life rather than just memories. She was of average height with dark, silky hair that fell to her chest, a slightly oval face and a straight, narrow nose.

In response to her greeting, Tina introduced them: "gentlemen and Lyra, this is my sister. You want to put something on, Queenie?" 

"Sure," she agreed amiably.