oblivioni traditæ

Dispar

Tina woke up to see a figure moving around her bed. She blinked rapidly until her vision had cleared and she could see that the figure was Gallagher. Tina frowned, wondering why she was here, then she remembered . . . she had forgotten everything.

Tina struggled into a sitting position, raising her hands to feel the bandage around her head.

"Good morning, Miss Goldstein," Gallagher said. "How are you feeling?"

"I've got a headache," Tina mumbled.

"Right, I've got something that should help." 

Gallagher moved picked up a bottle, pouring some of the thick green liquid into a tiny cup and handing it to Tina.

"What is this?" she asked suspiciously.

"You should know," Gallagher said. "You went to Ilvermorny, you took potions."

Tina frowned and looked at the potion. "It's just Wiggenweld?" she asked.

"Of course."

"It's just, I know that the Wiggenweld Potion is a relatively strong healing spell but I thought you'd be giving me something stronger," Tina explained with a scowl.

Gallagher shook her head. "I don't want to give you too much help. That's why you're taking so little of it. Now, drink it up."

Wrinkling her nose, Tina raised the cup to her lips and swallowed the contents, gagging at the taste.

"When can I go home?" she asked.

"Soon. Your sister should be here to pick you up." She paused. "Do you remember what happened yesterday?"

Tina scowled. She hated being treated like she couldn't remember anything. "Of course I do," she snapped. "I woke up here and you all told me it was 1928 even though I think it's 1925 and no one explained exactly what happened to me, what's information I've lost, or who the two men in the room were."

Gallagher smiled slightly. "Things will be explained eventually."

Just then there was a tap on the door. It opened to reveal a young man.

"Miss Goldstein and Mr. Scamander are here," he announced.

"Excellent," Gallagher replied. "They can come in."

The young man stepped aside and Queenie entered, followed by the British man. Tina studied them intently.

"Do you remember who they are?" Gallagher asked.

"I know my sister," Tina said. "But no one's told me who the Brit is."

Queenie nudged the man and he looked at her, a surprised expression on his face. She tilted her head towards Tina, indicating that he introduce himself. He glanced at her then hesitantly took a step forward.

"I'm, uh -- I'm Newt Scamander," he said offering her his hand. 

She glared at it then up at him. He lowered his hand awkwardly. "Who are you?" she demanded.

Newt started, taking a stumbling step backward.

"I'm sorry?" he said automatically. Her choice of words had startled him. Those words had been the first thing she had said to him, and she had said them the same way she had them then. He had responded the way he had then too, though he hadn't done it on purpose. Part of him hoped that this exchange would awaken some hidden memory of him . . . but it didn't. 

"Who are you?" Tina repeated. "You know, in relation to me. Do I know you?"

"Teenie, Honey," Queenie interrupted. "Newt is our friend. We met him in December '26."