You and Me and a Beast Make Three, Part 1 (Newt/Reader)
Heart in his throat, Newt watched wide eyed as you, in an unusual fit of Gryffindor daring, let go of your broom. The crowd roared as you swung freely in the air, nothing but your legs keeping you from certain doom. The snitch was snug in your palm when you pulled yourself back up and the Ravenclaws’ screams of victory drowned out the Gryffindors’ groans of disappointment.
He sagged in relief when you finally tumbled onto the grass, your chest heaving as the adrenaline left you. With shaky legs, he made his way through the crowd. You’d find him after the celebrations and then he’d be able to give you a proper scolding. Honestly, brightest witch of their age and you were willing to throw it all away for a sport.
He’d have to have some words with your mother later.
“It isn’t fair!” You sobbed; burying your face into his chest and, for once, there was no hesitation when he wrapped his arms around you. “It isn’t fair, it wasn’t your fault! Oh, sweet Merlin, I’m so sorry! You told me, you bloody told me and I’m, I’m, I’m so sorry!” He said nothing; just clung to you and you cried even harder.
“I’ll go with you,” you blubbered. “I’ll leave with you right now, NEWTs be damned! If you give me five minutes to pack, we could be in the Amazon before lunch.” Something warm settled in his chest at that and he managed to let out a watery little laugh and he nearly crushed you to him.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he whispered, “you’re the ‘Brightest Witch in Britain’, remember? You can’t throw it away for, for some guy.”
You pulled away, eyes bright unshed tears and you cupped his cheek; pulling him down so your foreheads were touching.
“You aren’t just some guy.” You argued and the fierce determination in your voice scared him. “You’re Newton Artemis Fido Scamander. You’re brilliant and clever and loyal and I’d choose you over some dumb test any day.”
He could feel his face burn and he was quick to pull you in again if only to hide his blush.
In the end, he convinced you to stay, but only after you made him promise to come back after graduation.
The two of you kept in close contact, but it was still a shock when he saw your smiling face on the front of the “Prophet”. The headline that followed not so much.
Genius of the Century?
Miss (F/n) (L/n) has seemingly done the impossible; she is one of the few students to receive all Outstandings on her NEWTs, the first since Professor Albus Dumbledore himself.
The young Ravenclaw is quite popular among her peers as well and is known not only for her wit but for her daring when flying for the Ravenclaw quidditch team.
In an exclusive one on one, Miss (L/n) told reporters that she plans on traveling with a friend after graduation. When pressed for details, the teenager promptly blushed and changed the subject…”
His heart did a strange little dance at that and his face felt hot as he drank his tea.
You crash into him in a flurry of black and blue and bronze and your pretty (e/c) eyes sparkled as he wrapped his arms around your waist.
“I’ve missed you.” You said and he laughs nervously; very aware of your chest pressed against him and the way his hands were resting on the curve of your hip. Merlin, when did you get so beautiful?
“I’ve, I’ve missed you too.”
The smile you gave him was breathtaking and he wanted to kiss you. He really, really wanted to kiss you.
To this day, he still kicks himself for not doing so.
You smelled like peaches and he nuzzled your hair as the two of you huddled beneath the small cliffside. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t cherish these moments when nature demanded the two of you huddle together for warmth or protection.
Still, the way you were shivering was concerning and his fingers trembled as he fumbled with his buttons. The look you gave him when he opened up his coat and gestured for you to crawl in close was incredulous and he faltered, cheeks turning red from embarrassment, but before he could backpedal and apologize, you threw yourself forward and buried your face into his chest.
His grin was so wide it hurt.
Pickett did not like you. At all. The little bowtruckle hissed and spat whenever you were near and no matter what Newt did, he couldn’t get him to stop.
Deep down, he knew the real reason why the little creature was so against your presence, but that meant analyzing thoughts and feelings he was too scared to confront.
Instead, he just shrugged and said “attachment issues”.
“Newt,” your voice was soft, but he tensed despite the gentleness.
“Yes, (Y/n)?” He knew what you were going to say and he knew that you were right, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
“You have to let him go.”
Your hands were on his shoulders, giving him an affectionate squeeze and he turned around in his seat so he could rest his head on your stomach.
Fingers combed through his hair as he cried and Pickett made no noise of complaint as you held him.
“Welcome to New York,” the immigration agent said, “enjoy your honeymoon.”
Newt blushed and you giggled; tightening your grip on his arm.
“We will, thank you.”
Newt made no attempt to take his limb back and you didn’t seem inclined to let go despite passing through security and having no need to keep up the charade.