October 1930

They wed beneath a blue October sky.

Tina insists on a canopy and Newt can think of no reasonable objection. He ensures she has whatever is required to make her happy, despite the challenges of the unstable economy, and it's worth every cent when his bride beams at him upon her approach.

They share their vows beneath blue brocade, the precise shade of the jacket that had started it all. His hands tremble as he pushes the ring onto her finger. Pickett acts as ring bearer, and he fulfills his duty with a series of happy clicks. Newt thanks him in a murmur, luminous eyes never wavering as he swears himself to her.

Their wedding is a fusion of traditional Jewish vows, wizarding ceremony and American pomp, which somehow fits them perfectly. Newt gamely steps on a glass to end the vows, and their guests lift them onto chairs and dance them around while they hold opposing ends of a handkerchief.

They are returned breathlessly to earth to dance slowly, spinning around and around the floor as people talk, laugh and eat beside them. They hold each other close to the end, and the day closes with them being seen off on a tide of rice and well-wishes.

Their honeymoon is a short affair, three days in a hotel in New York. They don't make love, their wedding night—Tina nerves are frayed and Newt senses the tension she carries. Instead, they spend the evening comfortably tangled, touching, teasing, pleasing, sipping champagne and making plans for their new life together.

Newt fetches her breakfast in the morning, and feeds her strawberries dipped in chocolate at noon, and rubs her back, her shoulders, her arms in the evening.

Tina welcomes the secret parts of him into herself that night, and later she thinks that, in the long and storied history of humanity, the expression of love has never been so pure, and no woman has ever felt so wanted.

They return to their apartment to discover that little has changed. She stumbles over her new signature and laughs with every magical correction. He forgets about his new, simple ring, and she sees his surprise every time it clinks against his glass or the doorknob. They cook, they clean, they revise and take notes—they fall into sweet domesticity. At night, he sometimes tucks her into sleep and sometimes tucks himself into her, and every act of intimacy brings them closer and closer still until she can no longer discern where she ends and he begins.

Seven weeks into their marriage, when the season has tipped over to winter, she hears the front door open and close from down in the case, and before long he's standing beside her. His smile splits his face in two, as it always does, and his eyes shine at her, green-gold and joyous. There's a fine parchment bundle in his hands, two steamer tickets poking out.

"How does Eastern Europe sound?" Newt asks without preamble. Tina sets aside a beaker to hide the shaking in her hands. She reaches out to take his wrist and he captures her fingers. He's wonderfully earnest as he awaits her response, and Tina can't contain her smile.

"Sounds good, Mr. Scamander," she declares, and he firms his smile. His eyes crinkle at the corners, and Tina is sure she not imagining the moisture there. She reaches up to brush it away and he presses his cheek into her hand, making a content noise in the back of his throat. He sets down the envelope to embrace her entirely, speaking softly into her hair.

"Then, Mrs. Scamander, I suggest you pack a bag. We have a ship to catch."

Author's note: You can find me on Tumblr (username: katiehavok) if that's your thing. I would recommend seeking me out there—it's the best place to find me if you wish to keep track of my works, and I always accept prompts and requests for Newt/Tina and Newt/Queenie. Thanks, as always, to Kemara for beta-reading and general encouragements.