Fandomweekly Challenge 73 - Moving on

[m_findlow]

Title: Moving on
Fandom: Fantastic Beasts
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG.
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 73 - Burning bridges at fandomweekly
Summary: Some endings are merely beginnings for something else.

Newt stared forlornly around the room, trying to see if there was anything left to pack, since he wouldn't ever be returning. Even what he had packed scarcely filled the battered and worn trunk with its fraying edges and scratched leather. A whole life was packed into that trunk, books and quills, rolls of parchment and bottles of ink, a chocolate frog he'd saved since Christmas and a bundle of school uniforms he'd never wear again. At least they'd let him keep his wand. He hadn't asked if the law against underage use still applied if you were expelled. No doubt he'd find out soon enough.

There was a knock at the door. He turned around, surprised to see who was standing there. 'Professor Dumbledore, sir.'

'I thought I would come and see how you were getting on. And to extend my deepest apologies once again. The Ministry are, at times, wont to overreact.'

Newt didn't attempt to defend either argument. Expulsion was expulsion. He couldn't change that now.

'Almost done?' Dumbledore asked, sitting back on the edge of the poster bed.

Newt nodded sadly, gazing once again at the half empty trunk.

'It is hard to leave behind everything we know. Harder still to leave behind friends.'

'Professor, I don't think I have quite as many as you must think.' He'd always been considered strange, even by Hogwarts standards. People misunderstood him, just as they misunderstood most of the magical creatures he'd discovered inhabiting this world with them. They would be the friends he'd be leaving behind.

Dumbledore shrugged, as if being incorrect was of no real consequence. 'Perhaps not, however I believe there is one who is waiting outside. Ostensibly waiting for an old man like me to leave.'

'You're not old.' If anything Dumbledore was full of that charming spark of youth that some of the Hogwarts professors had left behind them long ago. Newt had enjoyed his lessons, always left with a feeling that he was becoming closer to being a proper wizard. He was grateful for the professor having argued the case against Newt's expulsion for an incident that had ended up harming no one.

'There are great forces of good that come into this world, Newt. They are not always the bravest Griffindor nor the wisest Ravenclaw. They are not even always who we expect them to be.'

'And what of those who are expelled from Hogwarts, Professor? What becomes of them?'

Dumbledore's expression was curious. 'Divination was never my strong suit. But do not be disheartened. Hogwarts never forgets a student. Headmasters come and go, but Hogwarts itself remains, a testament to every witch and wizard that has wandered its great halls. Now,' he flicked his wand and items that Newt had lost or forgotten all swept up into his trunk, packed themselves and the lid thumped shut, its clasps clicking into place. 'Come.'

The common room fire burned steadily in its hearth, crackling logs casting a warm glow around the red and gold bedecked furnishings. It was empty of students, all attending to their potion making, charm casting and scribing away their long reams of parchment. All except one, whose emerald-lined cloak clashed with the colour scheme. She started, seeing Dumbledore lead Newt out from the dorm. She bowed her head at being caught out of class, long black curls falling either side of her face, obscuring it from view.

'Miss L'estrange,' Dumbledore greeted. 'I shan't ask you how you came upon the Griffindor common room password, nor how you convinced the Fat Lady to permit you entry even with the password. It may in fact be the first time in all of Hogwarts long history that any Slytherin has been granted access. I fear that such things are beyond even my great magical understanding.'

'Professor, I… I only wanted to say goodbye.'

'As should any true friend,' Dumbledore agreed. 'I shall leave the two of you to make your goodbyes. I myself have an appointment and a very long conversation with a sorting hat.' He held out his hand out to Newt in a gesture of manly respect. 'My best wishes to you, Mr Scamander. This will not be the last time we meet, I can promise you that. If ever you should need me, I'm never more than an owl away.'

Leta raised her eyes to meet Newt's. They were red-rimmed from earlier tears shed. I'm so sorry, Newt. He knew there was no way of expressing how deeply she regretted her actions. He'd shouldered the blame for her prank, sparing her his own fate.

'It's quite alright, Leta. If I could make the choice again, I would. I was never really one for school anyway.' His charms were okay but his potions were terrible. He was certainly never going to get the necessary OWLS to become an auror like his brother Theseus. 'At least I'll never have to live up to those expectations.' He was forever being compared to his brother whose achievements far outstripped his own. He had no interest in being an achiever. He was happiest down by the lake, learning the ways of the creatures who lived by its shores. And one, a tiny Bowtruckle he'd named Pickett, would be accompanying him, so it wasn't like he was leaving Hogwarts with nothing. He still had one friend - perhaps two now - who would be there for him.

'What will you do?'

What indeed? He wanted to travel. To see the world and learn everything there was to know about magical creatures. It was his passion, his calling. But travel necessitated money. For a time at least he would need to work. 'I'm sure I'll find something.'

Leta reached out and touched his arm. It gave him a strange tingling sensation deep inside. 'Promise you'll write to me? I don't know how I'll bear this place without you. You are the only true friend I've ever had.'

Newt placed his hand over hers. 'Every week,' Newt promised.