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The brunette girl lay motionless in her hospital bed, her delicate features serene as she appeared to be sleeping.

Her long lashes rested against her cheeks, and her striking green eyes were shut, as if the world had momentarily paused for her.

Sitting beside her was Albus Dumbledore, his face etched with exhaustion. His weary eyes never left his daughter's form, and his hand gently held hers as he waited for her to awaken.

He had remained at her side all night, watching Madam Pomfrey tirelessly work her healing magic on the deep claw wounds that had nearly claimed Davina's life.

Though the worst was over, the wounds still marred her skin—swollen and raw from the stitches. In time, a scar would mark the spot where the dark, red remnants of the attack had been.

A faint stirring broke the silence, and Dumbledore's eyes brightened. He watched as his daughter's green eyes fluttered open slowly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Good morning," he said softly, careful not to startle her.

Davina's gaze shifted, and as her eyes focused, she realized she was in the hospital wing. She tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through her abdomen.

"Careful," her father warned gently, his voice laced with concern. "I think you should lie back down for now."

With a sigh, Davina settled back against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling as if to gather her thoughts.

"Do you remember what happened?" Dumbledore asked, his voice low, carefully probing, yet trying not to push her.

Davina offered a faint, teasing smile. "How bad does it look?" she asked, tugging the blanket aside to glance at the bandages wrapped tightly around her midsection.

"Madam Pomfrey said it's still a bit swollen and red, but that will heal in time," her father replied, attempting to reassure her.

"That's good, right?" Davina asked, her smile growing slightly as she looked up at him.

Her father's face softened, though a hint of sadness lingered in his eyes. "There will be a scar though" he said quietly, his gaze betraying a deep sense of guilt.

Davina squeezed his hand gently, her eyes locking with his. "It's fine, Dad. I'm okay," she said, trying to ease his burden. But as she spoke, a new wave of worry hit her. She remembered something from the attack. Someone.

"Where's Newt?" she asked, her voice sharp with urgency. Her eyes scanned the room as if expecting him to be there, but he was nowhere to be found.

Dumbledore hesitated, his face falling as he gave her a sad smile.

"He's... fine," he said slowly, his words heavy with an unspoken truth. "He wanted to come and visit you before he..."

Davina's heart sank as she watched her father struggle to find the right words.

"Before he what?" she asked, dread creeping into her voice. She had a sinking feeling she already knew the answer.

Dumbledore exhaled deeply and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Newt is being expelled from Hogwarts," he said, his voice taut with regret. "For hurting another student."

The words hit Davina like a slap, and her heart skipped a beat. Expelled? That wasn't what she had expected. She had known there would be consequences, but this—this felt too much.

"That's..." Her mind raced as she tried to find the words to express the injustice she felt. "That's absolutely not fair. Newt didn't do anything wrong!" She glared at her father, the anger rising within her.

Her father's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Davina's fingers fumbled with her blanket as she spoke, her voice tinged with frustration. "Newt wasn't even there when I was attacked. It was just Leta and me," she explained, her voice growing more animated. "I was going to talk to him about... things. About us."

Her father's confusion deepened as he listened. "And then?" he prompted, trying to make sense of the story.

"I heard screaming from inside the room," she continued, "and when I went in, Leta was there with Newt's case and it was open. The Doxy was in out, and she was terrified. She... she attacked it when she felt threatened."

Dumbledore's eyes widened as the pieces of the puzzle slowly began to fall into place. "You knew about Newt's creatures?" he asked, his tone stern but concerned.

Davina lowered her gaze, guilt creeping over her. "I did. I was down there before," she admitted. "But his creatures aren't dangerous, Dad. They're just... misunderstood. Leta was attacking the Doxy because it was going after her, and then it attacked me when it felt cornered."

Dumbledore paused, reflecting on what she had said. "So, Newt wasn't at fault?" he asked, piecing together the truth from her words.

"No," she replied, her voice steady. "But he took the blame didn't he?"

Her father blinked, surprised that his daughter already knew that Newt would take the blame from the Lestrange girl.
"He did."

Davina nodded slowly, searching her mind for an explanation.
"I think he wanted to protect Leta," she said, her expression softening. "She was so scared when she saw me hurt. He really cares about her."

Dumbledore's gaze grew distant, as though contemplating something far beyond this moment. He then nodded slowly and gave a light chuckle. "It seems he could explain all this himself."

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Davina's heart skipped a beat as she followed her father's gaze toward the door. Standing there, nervously shifting from foot to foot, was the familiar figure of Newt Scamander.

The older Dumbledore slowly rose from his chair, his movements deliberate as he made his way toward the door. As he passed, he rested a calming hand on Newt's shoulder, offering a silent comfort.

Newt, his nerves fraying at the edges, hesitated at the foot of Davina's bed. His voice was barely above a whisper.
"M-May I?" His gaze flickered uncertainly toward her, hoping for an invitation.

Davina's lips curled into a reassuring smile, and she patted the bed beside her.
"Sure," she said gently, her eyes warm with understanding.

Newt carefully moved around the bed, his eyes downcast, avoiding her gaze. The silence between them stretched out, thick with unspoken words. He searched for something to say, but his mind faltered.

Then, as he looked up, his blue eyes brimming with tears, the words spilled out, raw and broken.

"Davina, I'm so sorry." His voice cracked, and the floodgates opened.

Davina sat up a little, her hand reaching out to take his, her touch steadying him.
"It's okay, Newt," she began, but her words were quickly drowned by his guilt.

"No," he choked out. "It's not okay. You were hurt... seriously hurt. When I saw you lying there, not moving, I—" His breath hitched as he fought to steady himself. "You could've been... gone." A fresh wave of tears fell from his eyes, his body trembling with the weight of his regret.

Davina shifted closer, enveloping him in a small, comforting hug, one hand gently stroking his back. Newt leaned into the embrace, finding solace in the warmth of her presence.

It was as if the world had paused, and all that mattered was this moment—this connection. He clung to her, afraid that if he let go, she might disappear.

After a while, Davina pulled back just enough to take his hand, her touch gentle but firm.
"None of this was your fault," she said softly, her voice calm and reassuring. "You didn't hurt me, Newt. Don't blame yourself."

But Newt's hands shook as he struggled to form a reply.
"But my creature—my creature did this to you. I... I hurt you," he whispered, the realization of his mistake weighing heavily on him.

Davina squeezed his hand, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
"This creature was scared, Newt," she said, her voice soft but insistent. "Remember what you told me about your creatures?"

Newt's brow furrowed in confusion, and he searched his mind for the words he had spoken to her not long ago. Slowly, it clicked.
"I... I told you they're misunderstood. Beautiful souls. Every creature has its own story. And that I wished people would take the time to understand them," he recalled, remembering the lessons he'd shared about his Demiguise.

Davina's eyes sparkled with understanding.
"That's right," she said. "And I do understand them, Newt. I'm not afraid. I don't think it's your fault or the creature's fault. You don't have to carry that weight."

His heart swelled with warmth at her words, and for the first time in what felt like weeks, he allowed himself to breathe a little easier.

"T-Thank you," he said softly, a smile breaking through his sadness. Davina's hand tightened around his, a silent promise.

A quiet stillness settled between them, but it was different this time—comforting, peaceful. Still, Davina had one more question.

"Why did you take all the blame?" she asked, her voice curious as she studied him, her green eyes searching for answers.

Newt blinked, momentarily lost.
"Huh?" he murmured, still processing her question.

"Why did you carry the burden for something you didn't do?" she clarified, her gaze steady and patient. Newt inhaled sharply, memories of Leta's abandonment flooding back.

After the accident, she had walked away without a word, leaving him alone to deal with the fallout. She hadn't once asked about Davina or even thanked him for taking the blame.

Newt looked down, his voice quieter now.
"I thought she was worth it," he confessed, the honesty in his words hanging heavy in the air.

Davina's expression softened, her eyes full of understanding.
"Sometimes, we realize things too late," she said, her words a quiet acknowledgment of all that had passed in the last few weeks.

Newt nodded, feeling the weight of the truth settle deep within him.

Just then, Davina's father appeared in the doorway, a stack of papers clutched in his hands.
"Newt, it's time," he said, his voice firm but not unkind.

Newt stood up, his heart heavy. Before he could move away, Davina pulled him back into a tight hug.

"Don't worry about me, okay? Just—be careful. Stay out of trouble," she whispered against his neck, breathing in his scent one last time, as if trying to capture it forever.

"I'm going to miss you, Vina," Newt said quietly, the words a quiet admission of how much she had come to mean to him.

Her heart stuttered at the realization that this might be goodbye. She pulled away slowly, her hands lingering on his for a moment longer than necessary.

"Take this," she said softly, reaching for the yellow Hufflepuff scarf on her bedside table.

Newt blinked, his eyes wide with surprise.
"Davina, this is yours... I can't," he began, but before he could finish, she had already wrapped it around his neck.

"Take it, Newt," she insisted, her smile bittersweet. "Maybe you'll remember me when you wear it."

And with that, their paths diverged. Neither of them could have known how soon they would cross again.

But fate had a way of weaving its threads, and their reunion was closer than either of them could have imagined.

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𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: The first part of the book is finished yay!

Larah :)