Hey again loves,
Comment me some suggestions for more Newt based stories? I'd love to hear your ideas! For now, here is "my second"
- Jess :))
You sighed as you looked up from your work, boredom written clearly all over your face. The clock ahead of you was ticking rather loudly and seemed to be growing more annoying as each second struck. It was as if the entire world was a working mechanism. Seconds matching the minutes, matching the hours, matching the days, matching the weeks, matching the months, matching the years and so on. And then there was just you. Sitting at a desk in a cramped room and wishing that the next second would be yours to finally break free from the barrier that is work. Only to sigh again when you realised it wasn't.
You rose from your seat, eventually sick of staring at the words that you had scruffily scribbled down onto the sheet of paper that was your 'history of magic' homework. It was by far your least favourite subject. And, in honesty, you hated the professor and most of the students. Sure your best friend Newt helped you through it, but you still couldn't help but hate it as a whole. Speaking of Newt, he too was currently completing his homework. Only he wasn't sighing and rolling his eyes at it. Nor was he childishly growing agitated that he wasn't part of the time mechanism.
"I need to go, Newt. I'll see you later" You sighed, throwing your books into your bag and quickly walking away. You gathered everything except your homework, which you found the need to restart because of how terrible it was. But for the time being, you decided to go somewhere in which had the capability to erase your discomfort. Somewhere away from Hogwarts.
You knew you strictly weren't supposed to leave the school unless of holidays, emergency or worst... being expelled. But you couldn't help but crave leaving it. Even if it were only for a few minutes. Besides, there were too many feelings around each corner of the castle at the moment. And no, not just the 'History of Magic' homework. You see, You had fallen completely and utterly in love with your best friend. So much so that seeing his clueless face hurt you when it didn't give you the glance of love that you dreamed of having for many years. To solve this hurt, you decided to disregard the Hogwarts rules and apparate away from your troubles.
You landed with a thud onto the cobbles of New York, slightly shocked at how different your apparation had just felt. Usually it was fluent and ended with a soft landing on foot. This time it was rough and felt as though you weren't alone. You subconsciously glared around, checking that you had no company except that of solitary, and gave a relieved sigh when you realised that you were in fact by yourself. You figured the tough transition must've been because of your pained mood.
Standing in the cold rain of the city, you decided to take shelter somewhere. However, you were completely clueless as to where you could find it. So, you simply just walked down the alleyway beside you and crouched onto a curb.
You watched around you and analysed every single passer by. Some made you laugh because of the way they would hectically run to their homes, newspapers covering their already soaked hair. Others made you smirk when they'd slip on the wet surface of the earth. But most would make you cry. Those ones tended to be the couples just coming out of a bar, lovingly holding one another's hand. Or the spouses pecking each over on the cheek after a series of loving glances were exchanged. For those were the people that reminded you of everything that you'd never have. In summary, they reminded you of your non existent relationship with the one person you loved so insanely. Newton Artemis Fido Scamander.
You were now crying uncontrollably as you tucked your legs up to your chest. You felt as though you couldn't bear to return to Hogwarts and see Newt again. But then you also felt as though you couldn't bare to loose Newt, someone who wasn't even yours to loose in the first place. It was like your mind was having a debate with itself.
