Imagines and Preferences: Book 1

It Could've Gone Worse | Newt Scamander

Fantastic Beasts was my evERYTHING.

Summary: You and Newt are students at Hogwarts (Year Six), and it's Christmas. Luckily, nearly all of the kids in your House went home, so you and Newt were practically alone in your common room. Cuteness ensues.

QOTP: Which creature from Fantastic Beasts was your favorite?

Word Count: 768

You're the only one in your dorm, tossing and turning. You just aren't tired. Who would be? It's Christmas Eve, and you're all alone and-

Wait.

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"Hey," you chide, shaking Newt's arm. He stirs, so you continue until his bright, blue eyes are looking up at you, seemingly lighting up the darkness of the Hufflepuff boys' dormitories.

"Y/N?" Newt asks a little too loudly. You quickly shush him by putting a finger to his lips and wait a few seconds to see if the other boy in the room was waken. Thankfully, he wasn't.

"What are you doing here?" you boyfriend whispers, sitting up. You take his hand and attempt to pull him up and out of bed.

He resists. "How did you get in here?"

"The door, you dolt. Come on."

"How did you get in here? In the common room? How-?"

"'Tap on the barrel two from the bottom, middle of the second row in the rhythm of "Helga Hufflepuff".' I know how get in all the common rooms; I make the first years tell me."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Are you coming or not?"

"Where?"

"To the Y/H common room. Keep up."

He sighs and climbs out of bed, straightening his clothes and brushing his hair with his fingers. You waste no time in grabbing his hand and dragging him through the yellow and black, rounded, cozy common room. "Hurry, hurry. I've got a few things to get from the kitchens."

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Okay, yes - you're sneaking around Hogwarts with Newt Scamander, at high risk of getting in trouble. However, what good is a boyfriend if he's gonna let you be lonely? On Christmas Eve?

"Love, I don't think this is a good idea," Newt whispers warily. You're pulling him along the halls, trying not to get caught. His hand, which is sweating, is still clasped in yours as he trails behind you. In his other arm is a large stash of pumpkin pasties.

You give a light scoff. "Live a little, Scamander. This'll be fun."

"What-What if one of the other Hufflepuffs saw? What if we get caught, huh? What then?"

"We're going to get caught if you don't shut your trap."

He groans, but continues to follow anyway, watching cautiously. A few times, he nearly drops the pumpkin pasties, but he manages. Soon, you make it to your own common room and enter as quietly as possible.

"See?" you say. "We made it. No harm, no foul."

"That was incredibly stupid and irresponsible, and we could've-" You cut off his lecture by kissing him sweetly, and when you pull away his eyes are still closed. A goofy, half-smile is plastered on his lips. "I mean," he says, "it could've gone worse, I guess."

It's then you notice he dropped the pumpkin pasties on the common room floor.

He watches as you gather all the pillows and blankets from your bed and around the common room. "What are you doing?" he asks, mouth half full of pumpkin pasty. You begin arranging them on the couch, taking a few minutes to answer him.

"Nest," you say.

"Nest?"

"Nest."

You promptly flop down in the middle of the sea of blankets and gesture for him to join you. With a small smirk, he does.

For two hours or so you eat and talk in the warmth of blankets, Newt forgetting about the fact that this could get the both of you in trouble.

You begin to get drowsy, laying on top of him, your back to his stomach and your head on his chest. His arms are around you and his steady breathing is succeeding in putting you to sleep. You yawn. "Newt?"

"Hmm?" He's roused, nearly asleep himself.

"Are you awake?"

"Well, now I am."

You crane your neck to look up at him, and he down at you. A lazy smile on your lips, you say, "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," he replies, kissing your forehead.

You fall asleep like that, light snores coming from Newt. The house elves find you that way, and they tiptoe around, picking up your discarded pumpkin pasties and leaving you be. They left your presents on the table in front of the couch, giving a silent promise not to tell a soul.