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Tina was–slightly confused.
Look, she'd taken Care of Magical Creatures class at Ilvermory, but that had been purely theoretical, and mostly focused on how to contain them.
And who even knew what a–what had he called it?–a Hippogriff, was in her country?
But yet it was hard not to get entranced by Newt, as he continued speaking about these creatures. It was all she could do to nod along smile, and yes Newt, their coats are gorgeous, I agree.
"Tina? Tina." Newt's voice called her name, snapping her out of her reverie.
"Um, yes?" She called.
He gave her his shy smile, like she was amusing him.
"You haven't heard a word I've said, have you." It wasn't really question, he knew exactly what was going on.
"No no, I–" She laughed. "Okay, okay. I'm actually rather lost. But they are gorgeous."
Newt smiled, and Tina saw the mischief hiding behind that shy façade. "I was just asking if you'd like to come here and pet him."
"Mercy Lewis, no." Was her immediate reaction.
Newt grinned at her, full on this time. "Come on Tina. He's quite harmless, really, so long as you'd insult him."
"I would never." Tina muttered, eyeing the beast. It stared right back, its orange eyes gleaming.
She climbed down from they fence where she'd been sitting, slowly walked around to the gate, and carefully unlatched it.
"Careful. Now, maintain eye contact." Newt instructed.
The gleaming eyes of the beast bore into her.
"His eyes are beautiful, Newt." She mumbles.
The beast draws himself up, as if it understands her, and it preens slightly.
"Good Tina. Now, bow, slowly." Newt's voice came.
She followed his instructions, and bowed low.
For a few beats, nothing happened.
"Tina–" Newt began, but cut himself off, as the beast returned her bow.
"Oh good." He smiled. "Now, come on then, you can get closer."
She approached warily, coming up next to Newt.
The beast cocked its head at her curiously.
She moved her hand forward to pet it, mesmerized.
Suddenly, as if startled, the creature knocked its head against her shoulder, and she grabbed Newt's hand, and instinctive gesture.
Newt reaches out with his free hand, and strokes it on he neck. "Hey, shhh. She's a friend, she won't hurt you."
He squeezed her hand, and slowly placed it on the beast's neck.
He stroked her hand down the smooth, silken feathers, felt them smoothly change into soft fur at the base of gathering neck.
Newt's arm is cautious, as it slowly comes around her waist.
He's warm, and gentle.
And this moment, when the world and all its troubles had melted away, when all she knew was the soft light filtering through the trees, the feel of the smooth feathers under her hand, the warmth of Newt's arm around her, this moment, if she could capture it, live it over and over again, she would.
If she had the choice to live out the rest of her life in that moment, she would.