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Over the next few weeks, Newt and Davina spent more time together than ever. The brunette witch was continually mesmerized by the magical creatures in Newt's case, falling more in love with them each time she stepped inside. Newt, watching her from a distance, felt a proud smile creep across his face. His creatures had taken a liking to her, too, it seemed.

Davina had even been trusted to wander the case on her own when Newt was tied up with schoolwork. She spent hours feeding and caring for the creatures, earning their affection and trust, which only deepened her bond with them—and with Newt.

But today was different.

Davina couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. It was that nagging sensation in the pit of her stomach—the kind that told her something was about to change. She wandered the hallways of Hogwarts, looking for Newt but found no sign of him.

Turning a corner, she saw him standing alone, facing away from her. His body language was tense—his posture hunched, shifting from foot to foot. Something wasn't right.

"Hey, Newt," she called, her voice carrying down the hallway.

Newt spun around, startled, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and guilt. He fumbled with the hem of his robe, his gaze not quite meeting hers.

"I've been looking for you," Davina said, trying to coax him out of his nervous state. Her eyes searched his face, but he wouldn't look at her.

"It's the first of the month," she added, her voice softening, her lips curving into a small smile. She was reminding him of their usual trip to their favorite spot on the hill. The place they always visited, together.

Newt's face fell, his eyes brimming with apology. He hadn't remembered. He'd completely forgotten.

"I—I'm sorry, Vina," he stammered. "I forgot."

As he spoke, Davina's gaze shifted over his shoulder, where footsteps echoed down the hall. A figure emerged—Leta Lestrange. A Slytherin girl, known for her beauty, her pedigree, and her effortless charm. She walked toward them, her smile warm as she locked eyes with Newt.

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Leta's gaze shifted briefly to Davina, offering her a subtle nod, a respectful acknowledgment. "Dumbledore," she said, her voice cool but polite.

Davina was taken aback. She hadn't expected the Slytherin to address her so formally. There was something oddly comforting about it, though—Leta seemed to understand, in some way, the weight of Davina's last name. The pressure of living up to it.

"Lestrange," Davina replied, her voice steady, her gaze unwavering. She wasn't sure why, but something about the girl sparked her curiosity.

Leta turned to Newt then, completely ignoring Davina's presence as she smiled up at him. "Are you ready to go?" she asked, her tone light and carefree.

Davina's heart tightened as she watched the exchange. Newt wasn't normally talking to someone else. Especially not someone from a different house. Someone who wasn't her or Lizzie, Ophelia or Julien.

Her smile faltered. "You're ready to go, right?"Leta asked, trying to mask the sting of disappointment in her voice. She flashed him a smile that felt more like a dream than the usual brightness it held.

Newt glanced from Davina to Leta, then back to Davina, a flicker of sadness in his eyes. His voice was barely above a whisper. "Would it be okay if we went another day?" he asked, looking at her with quiet sincerity.

Davina stood still, her heart sinking. She hadn't expected this. She wasn't used to being speechless, but here she was, unsure of what to say.

"Uhm... sure," she muttered, her voice small, trying to hide the hurt. "It wasn't that important, anyway."

But Newt's eyes had already turned away, his attention back on Leta. The way his gaze softened for her only deepened the ache in Davina's chest.

She turned quickly, not trusting herself to stay calm. "Have a good day," she murmured, before walking away. Her footsteps echoed through the empty halls as she left them behind.

Behind her, Newt stood frozen, guilt and confusion written all over his face. Leta, for her part, merely smiled, unaware of the tension she had caused.

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The next few weeks passed by with a heavy silence between Davina and Newt. The time they once shared—laughing and wandering through the magical world together—had now been claimed by Leta.

Newt and Leta had grown closer, their connection blossoming in a way that left Davina behind. It wasn't intentional, not at first, but somewhere along the way, it had happened.

Davina told herself it shouldn't hurt as much as it did, that she shouldn't let it affect her. But it did. Every night, she lay awake, thoughts racing, wondering where she went wrong.

Newt wouldn't just pull away from her, not like this. At least, that's what she had convinced herself.

But here she was, quietly crying into her pillow in the dead of night, trying not to disturb Lizzie or Ophelia. She was embarrassed, ashamed of the way her heart ached so painfully, and she hated the thought of having to explain any of it.

She didn't want to seem dramatic. After all, it was just Newt, right? But even though she tried to convince herself of that, her heart refused to listen.

Her nightmares had returned with a vengeance, clawing at her mind every time she closed her eyes, leaving her even more restless and sleepless than before. She was falling apart, and no one seemed to notice.

When Davina entered her Potions class, the reactions from her classmates were immediate. Whispers filled the air, and a few of them turned to stare.

The once-sparkling green in her eyes was now a dull, greyish shade—void of emotion. Her usual lively presence, the way she carried herself with confidence, had vanished, replaced with an empty, hollow version of herself.

She slumped into her seat, staring blankly at the front of the classroom. Her mind felt like it was spinning, but her body was too tired to keep up.

It wasn't long before Lizzie sat behind her, her voice soft as she whispered, "Hey, Vina?"

Davina turned backwards her, meeting Lizzie's worried gaze.

"Yes?" she mumbled, her voice flat.

Lizzie hesitated, searching her friend's face with growing concern. "Are you okay?"

"Peachy," Davina responded, the sarcasm dripping from her voice. She didn't want to admit how broken she felt, even to Lizzie.

As she glanced around the room, Julien leaned forward and lightly tapped her shoulder. "Wasn't Newt normally sitting there?" he asked, pointing to the empty seat beside her.

Davina's eyes flickered to the spot where Newt would usually be sitting, and her heart sank. It was now occupied by no one in particular. Newt had made the change without a second thought, as if the absence of his old seat meant nothing.

Lizzie's eyes widened as she turned to see Newt entering the classroom, chatting and laughing with Leta. They made their way toward a desk on the very right side of the classroom and Newt slid into the seat beside her, the two of them in their own little world.

Davina barely registered the question Julien had asked. "Well, not anymore, I guess," she muttered, her voice thick with sadness.

Her gaze lingered on Newt and Leta for a moment longer before she turned away. The ache in her chest deepened. She wanted to get her friendship with Newt back. She wanted everything to go back to how it was before. But it felt like the more she tried to hold onto it, the further it slipped away.

Ophelia, who typically sat next to Leta, dropped into the seat next to Davina with a loud thud. "Finally, this seat's free," she remarked, clearly relieved. "Sitting next to Lestrange sucks."

Davina barely heard her. She was too lost in her thoughts, watching Newt out of the corner of her eye.

When Newt's gaze met hers, the shock in his eyes was unmistakable. He seemed to freeze for a moment, taking in her appearance.

Davina looked... different. Tired. She wasn't the bright, energetic girl he knew. She seemed drained, and the sight of it twisted something inside him. His stomach clenched with guilt. He hadn't meant for things to get like this. He hadn't meant to hurt her.

"Newt, you're listening?" Leta's voice broke through his daze, following his gaze to where Davina sat, her eyes still locked on him.

"Davina, you're listening?" Lizzie's voice was softer, filled with concern as she looked at her friend, who seemed miles away, her mind lost in some distant place.

Neither of Julien, Lizzie and Ophelia
knew how to reach the girl they all cared for. But neither of them could ignore the changes either.

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𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: I know this chapter is a bit overdramatic but I think it fits the storyline just perfectly. By the way I have absolutely no hate for the actress or the character of Leta. It just fitted the story and I went with it.

Larah :)