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Theseus Scamander and Leta Lestrange are in love.
“Gosh, I wish I had what you two did.”
“You guys are so lucky.”
“You take one look at ‘em, you know they’re in love. Real love.”
What makes people say that?
Maybe it’s the way they hold hands.
They thread their fingers and Theseus rubs his thumb on Leta’s hand.
And she’ll squeeze his hand.
He’ll do it too, but twice.
They’ll share a sweet glance.
A cheeky smile on his lips.
Maybe it’s the way they’re always touching.
Standing close.
His arm around her.
Her hand on his shoulder.
Linked arms.
Holding hands.
Maybe it’s the way they comfort each other.
When Leta has nightmares about babies.
And white fabric.
And terrible storms.
The unforgiving ocean.
His arms hold her tightly and he whispers to her and kisses her shoulder.
When Theseus gets worked up because his job at the Ministry is so demanding.
His boss is so demanding.
But her gentle, cold hands touch his jaw.
Her words melt away his stress.
Maybe it’s when Theseus is in meetings and bounces his leg like wild.
And the moment he and Leta get home he covers her face in kisses.
Showers her in praise and affection.
Of course, nobody sees that part.
But it’s hidden in every glance.
Every smile while they look at their hands.
Every silly note left on Leta’s desk.
Maybe it’s even the naughty things.
The scratches on Theseus’ back.
The lipstick on his collar.
The lightest love bite on Leta’s neck.
The little wobble in her walk.
The pink on his cheeks when he sees her walk by.
Maybe it’s the way he looks at her.
When they go to parties and she’s the most beautiful woman in the room.
He takes her hand and kisses it like it’s a precious jewel.
Like she’s royalty.
Not Lestrange, the bastard child.
Not Lestrange, the freak.
But Leta.
His Leta.
Leta, darling.
Leta, my love.
Leta from Heaven.
And Leta who loves him.
Not because he’s Theseus Scamander the war hero.
Scamander the Auror.
Theseus.
Her Theseus.
He’s Theseus who’s kind and gentle.
Theseus who loves her.
Maybe it’s all that.
Maybe it’s just the ring on her finger.
But maybe-
Maybe for that second.
The way Theseus loses himself in her eyes.
Maybe love is real.
”Real love.”
Maybe.