"They're waiting for you, Newt."
The woman's voice said it first.
Newt stood up and found himself face-to-face with Leta Lestrange.
Leta was beautiful, smiling faintly. Newt hurriedly stuffed the button and Pickett into his pocket.
This Newt was still very young, with that awkward, shy smile still on his face.
And the older Newt stared at them in a daze, his eyes shining with a light that had not appeared in a very long time.
A black cat rested on his shoulder, watching the two of them without blinking.
"Leta… what are you doing here?"
the younger Newt asked.
"Theseus thought it would be nice if I joined the Ministry family too,"
Leta replied.
"Did he really say 'the Ministry family'?"
Newt asked, trying to sound casual.
Leta let out a soft laugh.
Then, as if by silent agreement, they walked down the corridor together.
The atmosphere gradually turned tense. There was clearly a great deal of history between them.
"You haven't come to a single dinner. Theseus was a little disappointed. We invited you, but you never came."
Leta said.
"Well… I've been busy."
Newt replied.
"He's your brother, Newt. He wants to spend more time with you. So do I."
Leta said.
At that moment, Newt noticed Pickett climbing onto his collar and pulling open the breast pocket of his jacket.
"Get in there, Pick."
Newt whispered.
Pickett wriggled inside quite comfortably.
"Why do strange creatures always love you so much?"
Leta said with a smile.
"There's nothing strange about creatures—"
Newt said seriously.
"—only narrow-minded people."
Newt and Leta said it almost at the same time.
They both smiled again.
"Do you remember the last time you said that to Prendergast? How long you got detention afterward?"
"I think it was about a month."
"I had to set off a dungbomb under his desk so I could come keep you company, remember?"
As they talked, they were already close enough to see the two grim, forbidding doors that led into the meeting hall.
"I don't remember that."
That was the last thing young Newt said.
"She was my best friend. Maybe I once…"
Old Newt had completely lost control of his emotions by then. He looked like a child—helpless and full of sorrow.
"You loved her once."
The black cat finished the words he could not say.
"Maybe I did…"
Old Newt said, his face filled with longing.
"Her mother died giving birth to her, and her father didn't love her, so her childhood was not a happy one.
I once saw her boggart… it was a baby sinking deeper and deeper underwater.
Later I learned that it was her baby brother, who died because of her. She could never get free of the guilt and self-loathing after that.
Deep down, she believed she had killed her brother, and that she was some kind of evil monster.
But even so, she was always gentle and considerate.
Well… because neither of us really fit in at school, we…"
The black cat already understood.
That was how they had formed such a deep friendship.
It was a friendship that made the Hufflepuff senior willing to take the blame and risk expulsion for Leta—and one that later made Leta go to her death without hesitation.
…The memory shifted again.
Now they were in something like a graveyard. Fifty Aurors stood outside it.
Their faces showed tension—even fear. A few of them clearly burned with the urge to fight and take revenge.
Inside the graveyard, a white-haired wizard was delivering a powerful speech. His voice held a strange magic of its own, one that made people want to believe him.
"It is time for everyone to see the future I have foreseen. If we do not rise up and reclaim our rightful place, this is what awaits us."
He was about to go on, but the memory warped again. The black cat turned to look at Newt. It seemed the Hufflepuff senior did not want him to see that part.
A few seconds later, the scene changed violently. The wizards were already fighting.
The white-haired wizard commanded fire the way a conductor commands an orchestra, with the Elder Wand as his baton. Tongues of flame lashed at the Aurors trying to Apparate or flee.
Six or seven Aurors broke ranks and ran through the fire toward him in panic.
The result was death.
"Mr. Scamander, do you think Dumbledore would mourn you?"
the white-haired wizard asked Newt and Theseus.
He hurled a great wave of black fire at them, and Theseus and Newt could only defend themselves desperately.
Just as they were about to fail, Leta appeared.
"Grindelwald! Stop!"
she shouted.
"I think I know this one,"
Grindelwald said, and stopped.
He walked through the flames toward Leta. Theseus and Newt struggled frantically to reach her, but they were powerless to get to her side.
"Leta Lestrange… scorned by all wizards, unloved, mistreated… and yet brave. Very brave.
It's time to come home."
He held out one hand to her.
Leta suddenly looked toward Theseus and Newt.
"I love you."
After that, the colors exploded into chaos. The black cat could only tell that Leta cast some kind of spell that made the skulls explode, disrupting Grindelwald.
That gave Newt and Theseus just enough time to Apparate away.
"I hate Paris,"
was the last thing the black cat heard Grindelwald say.
"Is that enough…"
The black cat heard old Newt's voice, hoarse and broken. He looked at the black cat with something close to pleading in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Scamander."
The black cat lowered its eyes.
A moment later, they were standing once more on that endless white ground.
"Bastet, this is war,"
Newt murmured.
"It destroys everything, tears everything apart… What's the point of standing against the most terrifying wizard in the world? To save innocent lives.
To leave fewer families shattered, fewer tears, fewer sorrows. That's something that has to be done, no matter what."
He fell silent, watching as the black cat turned the black stone at its neck three times, like it was some kind of game piece.
"Come with me, Mr. Scamander."
The black cat jumped down from Newt's shoulder.
The Resurrection Stone was summoning Miss Leta, but she seemed too far away—or perhaps the connection between Sean and her was still filtered through Senior Newt, so she did not appear immediately.
The black cat suspected that if it were summoning Helena instead, she would probably arrive much sooner.
So all it could do was lead Newt through the mist-filled Borderland. It could feel her drawing nearer and nearer.
"Am I going to see her?"
Newt seemed to sense it too, and he was starting to grow anxious.
"Isn't that what you wanted?"
the black cat asked, confused.
"Dear Bastet… you don't understand. She—she makes my heart explode like fireworks.
Stammering, losing my words—that's the price of being near her."
Newt spoke like an old storyteller.
And unlike other wizards, he seemed to believe he was telling a story to a god.
If a god understood a wizard's story, then perhaps it could also spare the wizard some of his pain.
~~~
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