The Underground

Chapter 2 - Fog

When father and daughter were discharged from the hospital, Newt faced a new sort of challenge, sleepless nights. 

The first was expected. He had been told not to expect much sleep, as Elizabeth would wake at seemingly random times in the night and need to be fed, or freshened up, or burped, or held. 

In the morning he came downstairs disheveled, still in his dressing gown, and handed Elizabeth to a sympathetic Queenie, who took up her role of substitute mother gladly. 

During breakfast, all was quiet. Elizabeth had fallen asleep, and it looked like her father would gladly do the same. Queenie and Jacob sat, one on either end of the table, with William and Thomas between them on one side , Newt sat by himself on the other, slowly moving the scrambled eggs around with his fork. William, who was five, and old enough to understand what had happened, was crying into his father's arm while Jacob gently rubbed his back and spoke softly to him. Thomas, who was two, and oblivious to the situation, was grinning cheekily at his mother while pushing the eggs over the side of his plate and onto the wood of the table. Queenie gently but firmly told him "No, the eggs stay on your plate." 

After breakfast was over, and the dishes done, Newt went to see Dumbledore. His feelings about needing his sympathy had dissipated, and he now felt empty. A void had opened in his heart where Tina had been. Stealing the happiness he should have felt at Elizabeth's birth, and left him with pain. 

He chose not to apperate, it would only make him more disoriented then he already was, and walked through London to King's Cross. He rarely went to platform 9 3/4 since he had been expelled. It had hurt too much. But now, it was merely another place where he could take his misery. It was like a fog, and he hid inside it from the world. 

Even though the school year had already begun, and the students had travailed to Hogwarts a month ago, the Hogwarts Express was still running back and forth. He boarded the train, finding it mostly empty, with only one compartment full. He went to the back, and sat down on a no-longer cushy seat. He fell asleep when it began to move, and slept soundly all the way to the school, lulled by the motion and noise.

He woke to the sound of brakes squealing. Rousing himself, he got up and tightened his coat, waiting for the train to stop completely. When it did, he got off and rushed up to the castle. The caretaker, a man named Apollyon Pringle, let him in. The entrance was deserted, almost, ghosts drifted in and out through the walls, speaking in low voices to each other. Just as he was leaving a voice called out, "Scamander?" 

He turned to see the Fat Friar gliding toward him, "Yes?"

"Newton right? I'm so bad with names."

"Y-yes."

"What are you doing these days Newton? Let out any more beasts?"

"Um, actually no, I..." he trailed off, hurrying to the stairs. "I haven't been doing much lately." 

"Great! neither have I!" The ghost replied, following Newt up the first flight of stairs. "You are certainly in a hurry. Where are you heading?"

"I need to see Dumbledore." Saying it made it him feel a little better. Though not much.

They rounded a corner and ran into a swam of students making their way out of a classroom, Dumbledore's classroom. The Fat Friar recognized someone in the crowd and glided away to talk, bidding goodbye to Newt in his jolly voice. Students continued to crowd the hallway and Newt began to feel the usual discomfort of being in a crowd settle on him, pushing him against the wall. The sudden impulse to hide seemed overwhelming, but before he had a chance to act on it, a voice drifted out from the classroom. "You can come in Newt." 

Newt went in and saw Dumbledore cleaning up, his wand aloft, making papers fly into desks and leftover matches into their boxes. One student was still there, a girl who looked like she was in her third year, she was cradling a large tortoiseshell tomcat in her arms and she was crying. 

"Newt, I'd like you to meet Joanna Dawson," He turned to the girl, "Joanna, Newt Scamander, a friend of mine." She nodded and stroked the cat who seemed to be holding its paw inward, like it was in pain.

"Can I look at your cat?" Newt asked cautiously, aware that his hand was trembling as he held it out. 

"Yes," she sniffed, "Blake Bellingham hurt him somehow, he doesn't like me very much, and he thinks that hurting Lucas is a good way to make me upset." She wiped away a tear, "He was right. I only really care about my pets."

"Oh, um, well it looks like this Blake Bellingham person has twisted his paw, nothing major, but I'd feel the same way, I think." She looked at him with glowing eyes and he looked away self-consciously, retreating into the fog as a shield from her gaze. Muttering a healing spell he slowly drew his wand over the cat's paw and it uncurled, healed and ready for use. 

"Thank you!" she cried happily, as the cat purred in her arms.

"It, It was nothing. Really." He wanted to melt into the floor. 

Dumbledore seemed to recognize this and shooing her away, took Newt into his office where they both sat down at his polished oak desk. Dumbledore waited for Newt to begin, he waited, and waited, but Newt was staring at the floor like he had never seen it before in his life. He cleared his throat, making Newt jump. "Well?"

"I,- Dumbledore, I need your help."

"Ask away."

Silence.

Dumbledore shook his head. "If you can't tell me what you need help with, then I can't help you. It's as simple as that." 

A lump formed in Newt's throat, choking his response. He had meant to say that he needed to borrow his pensive so that he could have his full attention on Elizabeth, and his responsibility as a father, but the enormity of the request, combined with his shyness and the lump in his throat blocked all the words but three. "Dumbledore , I, I need t-t-to." 

"Yes?" 

But the words were gone, and he was crying, burying his face in his hands and drawing the fog around him like a blanket on a cold day. Nothing, not even Dumbledore coming over to him and putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, could reach him. He was in his own world now, only he could make himself himself leave it. He remembered feeling this way when his mother had died, It had lasted weeks. Weeks of solitude and isolation, as he had cut himself off from the world. Tina had eventually dragged him out of it, through stories of her parents, and steaming mugs of tea. But now she wasn't there to lead him out. He would be lost to the fog until he found a way to dissipate it, that could take months, years perhaps. 

"Newt!" It was Dumbledore, his voice cutting through the darkness of the fog. He saw Dumbledore's face through blurry eyes, a face that resembled his own at times, worry written in every feature. "can I get you something? Tea? Cocoa?"

"No," He choked out, not willing to look him in the eyes. He was repeating Tina's words exactly, and it made him angry that he was trying to take her place. No one could fill her place in his heart. "Can I be alone? Please Dumbledore."

Dumbledore was looking away, out the window at the grounds and Newt saw only his back. But he also saw the nod. "Yes, but not for long, I need to have a quick talk with professor Dippit." He left the room and shut the door behind him, leaving Newt alone with the fog.