《 Skip a Beat 》

Can't get ya outta my head

"Okay, Newt, come on... relax. Let's take a break..." soothed Tina to an unhealthily pale-looking Newt.

"No, I'm fine. Do it again, I can do it this time," he protested, sitting up straighter and yanking the sleeves of his white shirt down.

Jacob, who'd been witnessing the entire time from the chair adjacent to the bed, wet his lips and spoke up.

"Newt, you're not looking so good. Maybe you should stop for a bit."

"No, really. Do it again. Please." He indicated Tina, who didn't move from the foot of the bed.

"No."

"Please, Tina?" He cocked his head to the side. Tina loosened a breath. With a sense that she'd rather have been doing anything else, she squinted, lifted Newt's wand, and uttered, "Legilimens."

Nothing happened.

"Mercy Lewis, I need to get a new wand soon," she muttered irritably, then, with a twinge more aggression, "Legilimens."

Instantaneously, the hospital room swam before Newt's eyes, melting into something else entirely.

He was sixteen. Leta was by his side, watching with interest as a weedy bowtruckle clambered out of a tree and onto his wrist...

His surroundings blew away like mist, and Newt was suddenly perched on the edge of a wooden bench, his suitcase closed on his lap as the HMS Temeresi pulled into the New York harbour...

"Clear your mind... try and block me out..." came Tina's echoing voice from the middle of nowhere. So distant... so quiet... Newt couldn't think, couldn't control it... he was standing on a greying platform. Tina was in front of him, panic rippling across her face... silver-black waves peaked around her...

He couldn't breathe. The crests from the death potion were coming faster and faster, higher and higher as Tina called his name in anguish. He was losing sight of her, the waves were closing in...

With a sharp gasp, he tumbled back into the hospital ward, head spinning and throbbing terribly. At the foot of his bed, Tina was doubled-over, hands on knees, but quickly straightened after a moment and swallowed hard.

Newt found himself shaking feverishly- for the third time that day- and he felt hot and cold all over. The worst part, though, was that he knew it wasn't entirely from the occlumency training.

Tina stalked over and pointedly placed his wand on the wooden bedside.

"Enough," she murmured. Jacob immediately vacated Tina's usual chair in favour of the one on the opposite side of the bed. The witch, blatantly missing Jacob's swift exit, sank into her usual cushioned seat.

"It's harder to do this when you're not well," Tina told him finally. "Look, you're shaking, and-" She pressed a hand to Newt's forehead, ignoring his noise of protest. "- You're hot. Temperature-wise," she hastily added at the end.

For once, to his credit, Newt didn't argue. Didn't say anything beyond, "Did it work?"

Tina pursed her lips.

"No. The spell broke off on its own- neither of us touched it."

Newt cast an accusative glance at the wand in question- his wand, laying on the table.

"You need a new one," he murmured absently. Tina hummed in agreement.

Although the spell hadn't lasted long, she'd seen enough of his memories to know that they still needed to keep working on occlumency. If Grindelwald had a prophecy about Newt, the chances of him coming in close contact with the dark wizard- sometime in the near future- were unnervingly high. If Grindelwald just happened to be a legilimens, and Newt hadn't mastered occlumency by that time... they really didn't stand a chance.