The Tribrid and Her Prison {Book One - Complete}

BONUS SCENE 44.5

Red liquid sloshed into the glass as Albus carefully poured himself and Newt a bit of wine. He pursed his lips, glancing at him, and forced a small smile. He was sitting by the fire, looking glumly into the flames.

"I know it isn't ideal," Albus murmured, moving to sit in the chair across from him, offering him the glass, "but it won't be long now."

Newt nodded his thanks, took the glass, and swallowed a generous sip. "I just feel terrible. We're up here, and she's locked away like some kind of animal, and it's Valentine's Day, and she was so excited..." he trailed off, shaking his head and looking at him. "Thomas is behind this. I know he is."

The spitting fire became the only sound momentarily before Albus moved his chair a little closer. "I know this isn't the night anyone planned, but we could do something to make up for it?"

Glancing up, Newt sipped more wine. "What do you mean?"

Albus smiled then and nodded. "Well, she didn't get to have the Valentine's Day ball. What if we throw her a ball just for her. In a special place...a secret place." He gave him a knowing look.

He raised his eyebrows and couldn't help but smile a little. "You know, I think she'd like that. She's been telling me how much she loved the dresses she'd picked out, it would be a shame for her not to wear it."

They grinned in agreement just as the clock tolled two. It would be a long night of waiting; neither felt inclined to sleep while Hope was chained to a dungeon wall.

Albus relaxed in his chair, his gaze straying around the room. He didn't quite want to read, but he wasn't sure if Newt wanted to sit in silence either. He couldn't help but let his eyes settle on him, watching him sip the wine as shadows danced across the angles of his face.

"We never properly discussed what happened at the Three Broomsticks." Albus offered then, watching his face for any discomfort with the topic.

Newt looked up from his glass and swallowed harshly, meeting his eyes.

"I supposed we haven't," Newt nodded in agreement, biting his lower lip, "what would you like to discuss?"

Chuckling, Albus ran his palm over his beard. "Well," he leaned forward a little, clasping his hands together, "I think I would like to know if it was something you wanted or if it was something you'd prefer I never do again."

Silence.

Newt cleared his throat. "I find it difficult," he stammered, "to explain how it made me feel."

With a tilt of his head, he moved a little closer, moving to his knees to sit right in front of Newt's chair.

"You can tell me, you know," Albus eyed him a moment, not wanting to push too hard, "be honest with me, Newt." He furrowed his brows, looking at him with sincerity. If it was too much for Newt, he would back off. However, if he felt as he did, perhaps there was more they could build from.

Newt nodded and took a shaky breath. "I liked it," he finally admitted in a low voice, "a lot..." his green eyes flashed up to meet his gaze. "I just don't know if I'm supposed to."

"Why's that?" Albus murmured, though he was sure he already knew the answer.

Newt managed a smile, then shrugged. "I'm sure you can assume the obvious reasons. You were my Professor, and now you're my Headmaster. What would..." Newt couldn't finish his sentence, so Albus did it for him.

"People think?" He asked with a nod. "Hm, yes, it did cross my mind how it might look from the outside looking in, but you and I both know it isn't the case. I didn't start developing feelings until a few months ago. After Hope arrived. I've always had a soft spot for you, but nothing more than as a student. Then, as a colleague, when you accepted your position here. I don't ever look at you and see the past; I only see what's in front of me now. Does it make you feel uncomfortable?" Albus asked.

Newt slowly shook his head. "No, I almost feel indifferent to the past. I left Hogwarts over a decade ago. Time passes, and I don't think there's anything wrong with what life has offered us now, but would it be something you want?" He asked, making Albus frown.

"This wouldn't be something we'd likely ever go public with. Prehistoric notions of same-sex relations and the number allowed for those relationships. Either of us could be with Hope and live a public life, but the three of us never could. Do you want that? To live in secret?"

Albus nodded slowly, watching him, waiting for the wild panic in his eyes to calm before speaking. "I am perfectly content to live in the shadows if it means I can be who I want to be. I will never be ashamed of love, but I will always respect whatever boundaries you want to keep. If one day you decide you'd like to tell the world about us, then I will be by your side," he smiled crookedly, "and if you decide you'd rather spend our days quietly sitting with only us to know, then I will take that secret passion to the grave."

Reaching forward, Albus stroked a bit of moisture near Newt's bottom lashline and offered a small smile. To his surprise, Newt leaned forward a little, closing the tiny gap between them.

A hum filled Albus' ears as he returned the gentle pressure, closing his eyes as he rested his hands on his thighs. The soft whine in Newt's throat only urged Albus on, taking hold of his waist and pulling him to practically straddle his lap.

Newt's hands gripped his shoulders as Albus licked into his mouth, their tongues dancing before he pulled away to start kissing down the length of Newt's throat. The soft noises of approval sent tingles along his spine.

Hope tried to fight back with her dominance while Newt was putty in his hands. His grip on his biceps tightened as he sucked a particularly sensitive spot just above his collarbone. It had to be a sort of weakness because, in the next moment, something hardened against Albus's thigh.

"I'm going to have fun learning what makes you tick." Albus chuckled lightly against his shoulder.

Newt shuddered against him but smiled.

Their clothes stayed on, but Albus and Newt lay before the fire. It didn't feel right to go too far, knowing Hope was somewhere cold and clammy. Instead, they waited for morning. Talking and laughing. Sipping wine and learning that Newt's leg twitched every time Albus would stroke his knee. Learning he'd visited every continent, including Antarctica. A place even Albus questioned if the adventure was worth the temperature.

Albus snuck a quick look at Newt as the sun began to peak over the treeline but was met with closed eyes and slightly parted lips. His head rested against Albus' hip, mop of hair disheveled, but his face looked so peaceful he didn't have it in him to disturb him.

Smiling, Albus stroked absentmindedly through Newt's hair as he watched the sunrise.

A new dawn- a new day.

A new them.