Peculiar [Newt Scamander x Reader]

Yule Ball.

  Not canonically correct, and it is not supposed to be tied in with the plotline of Peculiar, but I wanted to write it anyway. Just think of it as an AU or something...either way, happy late holidays! <3  

It had taken all of his courage, despite the two of you now being together, to make those words spill from his mouth. It was a big jumble of incoherent meek murmurs but you most certainly understood what Newt Scamander had in mind when in a heated breath he mumbled, "this—Yule-I...maybe, you...have..." his hands then jittered in the air as if it would be easier to convey his point, "...please?" the look in his magnificent green eyes was hopeful and strained with cracking nerves. The tension in the air – one he was imagining, no doubt – was deflated along with his tensed shoulders as a brilliant smile bloomed on your face with a small tint of a blush on your cheeks.

"Oh! I'd love to go with you!" Without much though, and blinded by the new found joy, you leaned in and gave his flaming hot cheek a quick peck, your grin never dimming, even when you pulled away and noted him being uncomfortably stiff. Waving the small package in your hands perhaps only then did you notice the disapproving hooks of owls seated where the two of you were – the Owelry. Newt's fingers came to graze where your lips just moments ago touched. "I..." his reaction prompted an awkward sort of chill to shake your spine and you faltered, glancing away, "I, uhm- I have to—" now you were making as little sense as he was. Finally you tapped the box wrapped in blank parchment as a distraction, before adding, "Have to send this...For Christmas..." Your explanation, though vague, was clear enough and he nodded.

"I-I will wait for you on the steps, then." Newt blurred; despite the Owelry being so big it now felt almost suffocating, and he knew that if he were to stay he would not resist in pulling you into an embrace. Which was highly inappropriate.

"Careful!" you called after him, "They are slippery!"

Fast forward a couple of days and you find yourself at the same situation, though this one wasn't nearly as pleasant as the first. You had dealt your third rejection that day – two Ravenclaw's and a Gryffindor had asked you to attend the Yule Ball, all confident that you would agree. With a harsh slap of reality and a friendly, though lame, smile and sweet words of 'No, sorry, someone already asked me and I said yes.' they hurriedly shuffled away to collect their pride. What you found yourself in then was much more complicated, a situation a smile and a robotic rejection could not fix.

Kevin Quill stood hopeful, his eyes trying to catch yours but you were avoiding his gaze as much as you were avoiding answering his, although playfully executed, serious request. You could feel the weight behind his simple "Go to the Yule Ball with me", and felt at a loss on how to reply. Your fingers hooked together and you fiddled with them for a moment, taking in a deep breath to calm your racing heart and with a sad flare in your iris you finally managed to look up at him.

"Oh, Kevin, I'm really sorry." You told carefully, making sure to lace each word with honest feeling. "But someone already asked me out and...and I said yes."

And finally, the night was here.

You felt light on your feet as hurriedly they carried you through the dimmed castle hallways. You were late, big surprise there, and before you fell into the Grand Staircase you took out your wand and waved it by your hair, making sure it's threads were curled to perfection just like Eveline had told. Your dress was dashing – your mother once hearing of such an event was more than delighted to find you something eye catching in the Muggle market, whilst later on Sonna Day had carefully charmed it to sparkle, not profusely mind you, as you knew that if you were to attempt such a spell you would most likely set the dress on fire. You tugged on the corners of it, lifting it up as not to trip – the fabric, so velvety and soft, tickled your fingers.