Your apartment was certainly not glamorous. Working at the Daily Prophet didn't pay as well as people thought, and being a woman didn't exactly qualify you for many raises. It was a small one bedroom old enough to be dilapidated, but not old enough to have any notable history. You had turned the living room into an office, setting up a small wooden desk in the center of the room. On it sat an old, beat-up typewriter you'd got second hand at the shop down the street and an ash tray. You had piled up old newspapers around it, using the mountains as impromptu side tables to set your drinks on when the night went on a bit too long. Your kitchen had a coldbox and a small, virtually unused stovetop. The wallpaper was a pale green, and patches of it had begun to peel off over the years. A large crack ran up one of the walls, jagged and angry. Your bedroom was the most furnished of all with both a bed and a wardrobe. Both had been left by the previous occupant. It wasn't much, but it had been home for you. And now, after losing your job, you'd probably lose it, too.

Mr. Black had not listened to your pleas when you went to see him to get your job back. He wasn't a bad guy, but, like most men, was about the bottom line. The cost of firing you was worth the newspaper's reputation. You felt your stomach lurch as you looked around your apartment again, and you felt an intense need to self-medicate. At least you still had enough in your coin purse for a drink.

The bar around the corner was almost a second home to you by now. You nodded at the bartender as you sat, smiling as he poured you your usual.

"Tough day, sweetheart?" He handed you the Firewhiskey as you lit a cigarette.

"You've no idea…" You kicked back your drink, setting the empty glass down on the bar and sighing. "You ever feel like you've had the rug pulled from under you, then been kicked while you're still down?"

He chuckled, pouring you another glass. "Love will do that to you." You grimaced and waved your hand.

"That's not it."

"Isn't it?" He leaned on the counter and smiled. "I seen you in here too many times, doll. I know you."

You shook your head. "I lost my job. The only thing I've ever been good at is chasing stories, Red. I don't know who I am without the papers." You took a swig of whiskey and grimaced. "I don't know who I am."

Red looked at you for a moment, thinking. "When's the last time you were really happy, huh?" You immediately thought of Newt and smiled. He hummed. "See? Bet it wasn't chasing one of your stories, was it?"

You sighed. "Writing is all I know."

"That don't mean it's all you're meant to do." His eyes softened as he searched your face. "You're a good kid, you know that? You deserve more than this place. If you got something that makes you smile like that, that's where you need to be." You bit your lip.

"I'm scared, Red."

"That's cause you're used to knowing, ain't ya?" He shook his head and smiled. "You ain't ever gonna grow, sweetheart, if you only stick to what you know."

You felt the truth of his words and stood suddenly. "What time is it?"

Red looked at his watch. "Quarter to eight." You beamed at him.

"Thank you, Red."

"Don't mention it," he said, but you were already gone.

The cool air of the country washed over you as you landed in front of the Scamander manor, making your skin break out in goosebumps. The house was ablaze with light and music, Theseus' party already well underway. You hesitated for a brief moment before stealing your nerves and making your way to the entrance.

The great room was absolutely dripping with fancy gowns and laughing faces. You craned your neck looking for a shock of familiar red hair when you felt someone grab your upper arm.

"Miss Littlewood?" Your turned at Theseus' voice and beamed.

"Oh, I never thought I'd be so happy to see you!" You hugged him, and he briefly stiffened beneath you before relaxing into the embrace.

"Gee, thanks." He smiled down at you as you leaned back, eyes soft.

"Where is he?"

Theseus shrugged. "He's never been one for parties…" He winked at you as you smiled.

"Thank you," you said, turning. "Oh, I almost forgot." You leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Congratulations, hero." Theseus chuckled and nudged you away.

"Hurry to him," he said lightly. "I can't take anymore of his moping around."

You left the great room, heading down the hall and towards the office. The door was ajar and you let yourself in and smiled at the suitcase lying in the center of the room. No longer a stranger to his world, you slipped in and down the ladder.

You made your way through his shed carefully, careful not to make a sound as you exited and made your way through the different habitats and enclosures. You found Newt sitting on the grass overlooking the lake, humming softly. He hadn't heard you approach, and as you drew nearer you could make out the words he was singing to himself. You smiled as you listened.

"Bedelia, I'd like to steal you. Bedelia, I love you so. Oh say, my dear Bedelia, may I be your beau…" You felt your body warm as you recognized your mother's song.

"She would have loved it down here," you said, smiling as he snapped his head towards your voice.

"Scarlett…" He watched you with wide eyes as you joined him on the grass.

"She always said she wanted to see the world." You turned your head to meet his gaze and smiled. "Maybe, somehow, she'll see it through me, now."

Newt's eyes softened and he smiled. "I think she will. We'll make sure she does, together." He reached up and cupped your face.

"Together," you agreed, turning your head and kissing his palm. Newt leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours and exhaling.

In the distance green and gold lights flickered across the sky, but you and Newt hardly noticed.