Send My Love (To Your New Lover)
“Expulsion?” Newt breathed the word like he was afraid and all you could do was nod meekly; eyes shining with unshed tears.
“The, the, the Headmaster gave me an hour to gather my things and, and, and Pro, pro, professor Dumbledore is supposed to take me home.” You sobbed; burying your face in your hands, missing the flash of agony and guilt that crossed your best friend’s face.
“Oh, (Y/n)…” he said and pulled you into a tight hug as you cried.
“I don’t wanna go,” you whimpered, “I don’t wanna go!”
Your parents greeted you with open arms and you nearly collapsed in relief.
“Oh sweetie,” your mother cooed and your father squeezed the two of you into a massive bear hug. Your professor shifted in the background and you turned to face him, sniffling.
“Thank you,” you whispered, “thank you so much.” The smile he gave you was sad, but there was a glimmer of pride in his ice blue eyes.
“What happened to you was unjust,” he replied, “and I could not, in good faith, stand by and do nothing.”
“Still,” you curled your fists, “without you, I’d have lost my wand too.”
“True,” he agreed calmly, “though I admit that I can do very little else for you except for this.” With a flourish, he pulled out a folded bit of parchment and handed it to you. You took it without complaint, ripping it open and reading its contents greedily. Your mother smacked your shoulder lightly, appalled by your rude behavior.
You didn’t care, too busy drinking in the information that your favorite teacher had given you. Your father laughed and brought your mother in close as she fumed.
“You can take the girl out of Ravenclaw, but you can’t take the Ravenclaw out of the girl. Just like someone else I know.”
You ignored them in favor of meeting Dumbledore’s patient stare.
“Ukraine?” You asked incredulously, “you want me to go to Ukraine?”
“It may not sound glamorous, but it will get you out of the country and away from the public eye.” You didn’t need to be told twice.
“I’ll do it.”
Your mother spent the next month and a half trying to convince you to stay or at least go somewhere safe, like America.
You shot her down every time.
Finally, your day of departure arrived and both you and your parents stood outside; staring down at the portkey that would be taking you to your mission site. Your mother cried.
“Love, please,” she begged, “please, think this out. It’ll be cold and you’ll be the only woman there! I can’t, in good consciousness, let you go!”
“Mum,” you said softly; bringing her in for a hug. “I need this, don’t you understand? I can’t even go to the Leaky Cauldron without people recognizing me. At least this way I’ll be able to recover some semblance of my reputation.”
“Fine, if I can’t convince you, maybe he will.”
“He” turned out to be none other than Newt Scamander.
You blinked in shock, not believing what you were seeing.
“Newt?” You stepped forward; hand reaching out to touch his face before you stopped yourself. He nodded shyly, but refused to meet your eye.
“Wha, what are you doing here?” It was a valid question. Ever since your expulsion, you hadn’t heard a thing from the redhead.
He cleared his throat, eyes flicking up to search your face before drifting away again.
“Your mum called, said you were about to do something monumentally stupid and that she needed me to talk you out of it.”
You bit back a groan.
“Of course she would,” you muttered; pinching the bridge of your nose. “Look, Newt, I’m so happy to see you, I really am, but my portkey is about to leave and I just, I can’t deal with this right now.”
“Deal with what?” There was a dangerous edge to his voice, but you were so caught up with your own problems at the time to notice.
“Deal with this!” You snapped; throwing your hands up in the air. “For the past month I’ve been treated like some sort of criminal for something I didn’t even do! And now, now that I have the chance to get away from the looks and, and, and the gossip, my own mother tries to blackmail me into staying!” Newt stiffened and a dark look crossed his face.
“No one asked you to take the fall.” He spat and you were thoroughly surprised at the bitterness behind his words. Despite it, you let out a humorless laugh.
“Yes, I did, because if I hadn’t, you would’ve.”
There was a brief moment of silence and you let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through your hair.
“Newt,” you finally said, “I don’t want to argue and I don’t want to leave it like this, but I need to go.” He immediately deflated and he looked so heartbroken that you almost wanted to stay. Almost.
“Will you write?” You bit your bottom lip and gave him a helpless shrug.
“I’ll try, but…” His moss green eyes sharpened at your hesitation and he stepped forward; dwarfing your small form.
“Merlin’s beard, your Mum was right. You are doing something monumentally stupid.”
He slumped forward; resting his chin on the top of your head.
“Can you at least tell me what you’re doing?”
Merlin, you wanted to. You’d wanted to tell him since the beginning, but you knew better. The minute she asked, Newt would crumble like paper in the rain and you couldn’t risk it. Not now.
“No, I can’t.”
You could practically see him frown at that and his next words were muffled by your hair.
“I promise not to tell her.”
“That’s what you said when I told you about Eddie Redmayne. Next thing I know, half of Hogwarts was talking about how we did it in the Potion’s cupboard.” He went to retort, but your pocket watch chimed softly and you pulled away to check it.
“I’ve got less than a minute.” You said and he sighed softly.
“You’re still going to go?”
“I have to.”
You barked orders in Russian and the men scrambled to meet them as you drew Hayden’s attention towards you.
“Here love, here! That’s right, that’s right, keep your eyes on me. Ignore the silly men and their silly scrambling.”
The ironbelly roared and flapped his wings; puffs of smoke escaping from his nostrils as he snorted.
“I know, sweetie, I know, but you have to calm down. I promise, everything will be okay, okay? Now be a good boy for mummy and go hunt yourself some dinner. I’m feeling very particular to goat, what about you?”
He let out another roar before lifting off, wind snapping at your hair and clothes as he did so.
After a tense second or so, you relaxed and made an attempt to fix your ruffled appearance. Just as you finished fluffing up your hair, Aventin ran up to you, letter in hand. Absentmindedly, you ruffled the boy’s hair before dropping a sickle into his palm.
Making your way back to your tent, you flipped over the envelope and grinned when you saw Newt’s familiar scrawl. Breaking the seal, you skimmed over its content, the smile that had been on your face slowly sliding off as you did so.
Your legs stopped moving as you reread his final sentence.
Leta and I plan on marrying in the spring and I hope you’ll be back before hand.
He might as well have slapped you in the face.
After everything that girl had put him through, put you through, he wanted to marry her!?
Merlin’s beard, you’d gotten yourself expelled because of her!
Swearing loudly, you ripped up his letter and stomped back into your tent.
Half a bottle of vodka later and you were in the middle of scribing a rather nasty sounding letter to your (former) best friend when Dumbledore apparated in.
He took in your teared stained face and the death grip you had on the neck of your bottle before sighing and vanishing away both the alcohol and your poorly thought out letter.
“I see you received the news.”
You nodded and whimpered; sobbing into his chest as he drew you in for a hug.
“It hurts now, but I promise you, my dear, it lessens with time.”
You didn’t go to the wedding, not because you didn’t want to (you really hadn’t wanted to), but because you were recovering at St. Mungo’s after a nasty accident involving Hayden and a Ministry official.
(The man was still blubbering for the ironbelly’s death.)
Dumbledore sauntered into your hospital room with a bouquet and a sack of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. You forced a small smile.
“Flowers from the wedding?”
He chuckled at that; transfiguring the hard plastic seat into something more cushy before sitting down.
“Alas, it was Madame Longbottom that caught it, not I.”
You nodded; sinking back into your pillow tiredly.
There was a stretch of silence and you watched with mild amusement as your former teacher picked through the sweets.
“He was quite disappointed when you didn’t show.” He finally said as he bit into something bright green with unnattractive yellow spots. His face gave away nothing as he chewed.
“Forgive me,” you said dryly, “but his wedding was the farthest thing from my mind as I kept an entire colony of dragons from eating my company.”
“I’d say you were lying, but now that I see you, I’m more inclined to believe your dragon story.”
Your head snapped up to see Newt leaning against the doorframe, his green eyes taking in everything as he stared at your bedridden form. Your heart sunk when you caught sight of the gold band on his hand.
“Merlin, (Y/n),” he muttered, “what were you thinking?”
“If I’m being honest, it was something along the lines of ‘holy Rowena, it’s hot as balls’ and ‘I think there went my left eyebrow’.”
“You know what I mean. What were you doing with dragons!?”
You bit your lip, refusing to meet his eye.
“I can’t tell you.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he walked into the room.
“And why not?”
Because you’ll tell Leta, who’ll tell that sewing circle of hers, which may or may not doom the entirety of Britain.
As if reading your mind, (you wouldn’t be surprised if he could if you were being honest) Albus cleared his throat and took your hand in a fatherly manner.
“Ah yes, about that, my dear. The Ministry has decided that, in light of recent developments, to cancel the project.”
At the same time, Newt asked:
“What Ministry project? (Y/n), when did you start working for the Ministry?”
You ignored him, (e/c) eyes shining with frustration.
I swear, if that quivering pile of shite has done anything…
“Surely, my dear, you’ve noticed that you’re the only one Hayden and his brood respond to, yes?” Another jelly bean passed his lips. “Ever since you’ve been hospitalized no one’s managed to get into the sanctuary, let alone to the ironbellies.”
“So that’s it?” Your hands were gripping tightly at your hair and you drew your knees up so you could rest your elbows on them. “A year and a half of my life wasted and I’ve got nothing to show for it except for a set of unattractive scars.”
“Of course not. The tamers were quite impressed and wrote a glowing recommendation to the Minister. Due to their kindness,” here you made a mental note to send your former team something nice, “you now have an offer at a position in the Ministry’s Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”
…scratch that, you were going to murder them as soon as you were discharged.