To someone else, love
“My little treasure hunter,” you cooed at the ball of black fur clutching something against his tummy, hiding it from you.
“What’s that you got there, niffles? Let’s see it, come on.” You reached out your hand cautiously, trying not to spook the lovable little thief. You poked him gently on the side, trying to tickle him and he responded by wrapping his tiny paw around your finger, pushing it away.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Newt attending to one of the occamies. You found the poor thing bleeding and cowering behind one of the potted plants the other day; you tried to carry it back to its nest but it wouldn’t stop snapping at your hands, so you called on Newt to do the task for you.
You glanced at Newt as he bandaged the injured creature. Distracted by your thoughts, the niffler frantically scurried away from you, making its way to the shed where you found him sitting on the third to last rung of the ladder leading outside the case.
“Come here, niffles. I won’t take it away from you, I just want to see what that is”, you tell the niffler, arms outstretched trying to welcome him into a hug. Newt had just finished treating the occamy and was on his way to where you were; he heard you talking to the niffler and tried to walk toward you as inconspicuously as possible.
“Sweetheart, I think your niffler’s got something there,” you whispered as Newt quietly entered the shed.
“I don’t think it’s a coin this time,” you add, looking to him for what to do.
The slender silver chain spilled from his little… fingers. It was a necklace, and you didn’t own one, so it certainly wasn’t yours. It couldn’t have possibly been Newt’s, he wasn’t the type to wear necklaces, at least, you didn’t think so. Maybe it was Queenie’s or Tina’s or… Jacob’s?
“Again?” He asked, weary. “Hand it over please.” Newt held his palm out to the niffler, disapproving.
“Give it back, you pilfering pest.” His eyes too soft for his stern words.
The niffler leaped onto your shoulders, mere centimeters from Newt’s grasp. Niffler clung to your arm for dear life, Newt tried to pry the helpless little beast away from you. A little too harsh, a little too impatient.
“Newt!” you cried out loud. Your skin now etched with scratches from niffler’s struggle. Newt, startled and hiding behind his hair from chagrin, let go of your “little treasure hunter”.
With the necklace still in his paws, he climbed up to your neck. As you were trying to make sense of the frustration darkening your love’s eyes, the niffler was peering behind your ear.
“What’s gotten into you, Mr. Scamander?” He avoided your gaze, a pained expression on his face.
“Love… what’s the matter?” You hated seeing him like this. This distant behavior is all too familiar, it only came about at the mention of one particular name.
You were surprised by the touch of cold metal, the necklace now rested on your collar bones, a singular pearl dangling above the button of your shirt; niffler was currently fastening the lock behind your neck.
Newt looked up at you the way one might look at a thief caught in the act, a combination of shock and disgust and anger. And it was at that exact moment that you knew who the necklace belonged to. At that exact moment, you were brought back to the heart-wrenching hurt that is Leta Lestrange.
There was a certain dull ache in your throat that prevented you from swallowing or breathing or speaking. It clamped your jaw shut and kept your tongue glued to the roof of your mouth.
He assured you years and years ago, back when you were still tiptoeing on the edge of falling completely in love with him, that the girl from Hogwarts no longer held a place in his heart. You wouldn’t allow yourself to believe that he lied to you, Newt isn’t like that. Newt was honest and kind and… loyal.
He was loyal.
He was loyal… to you, wasn’t he?
“It’s hers, isn’t it?” You said through clenched teeth, unable to stop yourself.
He looks away.
“I never got the chance to give it to her.”