Chapter 22: Protego

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Newt was standing on a platform. He'd been here before.

Some kind of platform and...

And Tina.


Several thoughts smashed through his head at once.

This was the MACUSA death chamber. He'd been here before. Tina looked up at him, panic written on her face.

Newt's Swooping Evil dived and twirled in circles around the room, ready to aid him in any situation.

But it was too late.


She leaped unsteadily from the chair, the Swooping Evil acting as a springboard just before she landed on the platform.

Newt desperately grappled for her, trying to catch her, but one cursed second was all it took for his hand to leave hers, and Tina slipped on the edge of the platform.


Newt could only watch, watch and watch as the bubbling silver liquid swallowed her up in a blink, fear and hatred visible so clearly on her face.



His eyes burst open, flashing with pain and guilt.

He was... he was...

On a couch. In someone's living room.

Right! Now he remembered!

Newt readjusted his position on the couch, sweat gleaming on his face. His gaze travelled to the maroon armchair next to him.

Tina lay curled up on the seat, relaxed and smiling lightly in her sleep.

Newt blinked several times, just to make sure that his brain wasn't mocking him and that he wasn't dreaming again.

He wasn't.

This was real.


Newt let himself appreciate the reality he was living in for a moment before getting up to make some breakfast, needing to distract himself from his harrowing nightmare.

Tina awoke ten minutes later and wordlessly started setting the table. She placed the last plate down and entered the kitchen, making to prepare toast.

When Newt finished the tea, Tina leaned against the bench and crossed her arms.


"I think you should probably know what happened last night," she started.

He looked up.

"You don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable with it," he said quietly.

Tina hesitated. Then she continued.

"It's fine. And you should probably know. Since I almost tried to kill you," She finished.

Newt went still.


Then he turned to face her, crossed his arms, and leaned back against the benchtop.

"Alright," He said, both a question and an answer.

She took a deep breath and started, not quite looking at him.


"I was... very clearly having a nightmare. And... it was about... the ministry. I was- I was going to work."

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