Chapter Text
There she was again, stood with back pressed against the door tears hot tears streaming down wind chilled cheeks. She’d heard other women speak of their broken hearts and shrugged it off as yet another female inclination of which she was bereft. When Queenie lost Jacob she witnessed first hand the toll it took on her sister, protecting Queenie from pain had been her motivation much of her life, the fact that she couldn’t actually relate had no bearing. Squeezing closed her eyes the ache in her chest grew heavier with each passing moment, no wonder Queenie had run off if this was even a fraction of what she had been feeling.
Sliding down the door the full weight of what had recently transpired echoed in her head over and over like some horrible twisted spell designed to drive her mad. “...you couldn’t possibly understand....really this has nothing to do you with you.” Hugging her arms Tina indulged in the one luxury that had been placed off limits, she collapsed fully under the weight of despair. Gasping for air her trembling sobs seemed to fill the space yet at the same time provide proof of its utter emptiness. Pain fused with anger, resentment, and self deprecation tore through her chest with each agonizing wail.
Why had she permitted herself to devolve into this pitiful state? She had allowed herself hope, allowed that dangerous thing to shine into those recesses that had long been sealed to protect, to safeguard. Through her life she was the embodiment of strength, sadness and disappointment crept in on occasion but those instances would pass with silent tears before she’d harden once more. Cracks in her shell could be managed, repaired, but she had naively lowered her guard and opened herself to be destroyed.
Newt Scamander, the awkwardly sweet magizoologist with his shy manner and gentle predisposition had cut her down, what’s worse he didn’t seem to realize or care. Tina understood then, taking in the passionate expression as he dressed her down, just how little she actually knew about him. In that moment he was not the man she’d built him up to be: soft green eyes peeking from beneath ginger curls, a work roughened hand stroking her cheek gently, words penned from a world away arriving weekly to cast a ray of light into her otherwise dull existence. These, she realized, were cruel imaginings created by her own mind.
Try as she might to blame him for all the anger, betrayal, and hurt, it inevitably rebounded to fall squarely upon her own shoulders. It was a blind trust that ran contrary to everything that defined her, the betrayal was to her own self and it angered her all the more as she cursed her own foolishness. Of the emotions that had overcome her, the jealousy at witnessing Leta Lestrange and her obvious closeness to Newt all but consumed her normally sound and logical brain. The sting of her picture in his shed was nothing compared with witnessing their physical proximity, beyond which was an unspoken intimacy built over years. What was she next to that? Some silly, silly, woman he’d met briefly and tried to escape from, even if he did promise.
Newt did promise, and he wrote, clutching her chest dejectedly Tina folded into herself. He stopped writing back months ago, shortly after she discovered his book had been published; Likely, she despaired, it was when he became engaged. The ‘Daily Prophet’s’ society page announcing their engagement haunted her memory. The inner auror is never silenced for long, it is her job after all to piece together a bigger picture and look for deception. It hurt all the more that she never expected such lies from him.
“I’m not sure what Leta likes these days, because people change, I’ve changed...I think, maybe a little.”
Pulling herself up, Tina wiped the moisture from her eyes steeling her heart against the tide of emotion that swept through her.
“I think, maybe, a little”
“Porpentina Goldstein, pull yourself together, you are stronger than this!” Standing she took a deep shuttering breath as her eyes began to sting painfully, walking to the looking glass she stared while palming the tears from her eyes. “You are no Leta Lestrange, no Queenie, you aren’t beautiful, but you ARE strong!” A single droplet escaped to trace the contour of her face, straightening her form she pursed her lips, “That is the last tear you’ll shed over Newton Scamander, you have a mission and you will not fail!”
Tomorrow would be a fresh start, she would not falter until she had located Queenie, rescued Credence from that horrible circus, and recaptured Grindelwald. She had a job to do. Her heart would be impervious to injury as it was hardened, no matter how she secretly wished it otherwise, Tina would be sure to never cross paths with Newt Scamander again. Hopefully she would soon forget all about him, “maybe a little.”