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Tell Me About the Yonkers


NEWT'S STORY CONTINUES...


Newt Scamander held the wolf pup, staring into it’s tiny grey face. His muzzle was capped in black fur, the rest of him a dingy grey colour, with tiny pointed ears and the littlest spindles of teeth that nipped and snapped at Newt’s dragon-hide covered fingers. He made tiny little growling sounds in the back of his throat that sounded more like a rattle than a ferocious beast. Newt turned the pup in his hand so that all four of the pup’s legs hung from his wrist and palm and he kept the pup’s little head still between two fingers. The pup snarled in a tiny little voice, trying to wriggle out of the grip Newt had on him, but Newt kept him still and clutched the pup to his chest, neutralizing him, though keeping him safe, and staggered to his feet back over to where Tina lay, still gasping for breath.

“Teeny,” he knelt down and grabbed her hand in his. “You’ll be alright. We’ll - we’ll get you out of here.”

Tina’s eyes were closed but her chest was heaving up and down with the inhale and exhale of oxygen, her heart was still beating.

Newt bit his wand in his teeth and tucked the pup deep into the pocket of his coat. He could feel the pup wriggling about in there and he looked down to see the pup chewing his own leg. “You stop that… stop that, I say.” He stuck his hand in to pull the foot out of the pup’s mouth. “No.” The pup bit onto the glove, so Newt slid his hand out of it and let the pup have the glove… and he started gnawing ruthlessly at the fingers on the glove, his paws wrapped about it, holding it still as he tore at it, his little teeth sinking into the dragon hide.

Carefully, Newt raised his wand and levitated Ned Veigler up from the ground and he looked over at Tina and he said, “Love, I’ll be right back. I - I’ll be right back and I’ll get you out of here. I’ll get you out of here. And - and well again. I’ll get the - the stitching kit. I’ll fix you. I’ll fix it.” He hurriedly swept Ned Veigler into the briefcase and followed after, the wolf pup still squirming and growling away in his pocket.

Once Ned Veigler was carefully secured into the observation room, he scrambled through the cupboards, knocking things over and spilling potions. The children that were still awake stared at him with wide, nervous eyes, unsure about this strange man who had kidnapped them away from their kidnappers, and watched as he leaped about, collecting the things he needed to save Tina. He climbed back out of the case, leaving them there.

Quirinus Quirrell watched with wide eyes as he went. And then a girl behind him let out a cry and he turned to see there was a funny creature tugging at the buckle on her shoes - a black furry thing with a long snout. It looked up at the girl when she cried out and ran off, snuffling and snorting and slinging itself into a wide nest, which was filled with shiny things - jewelry and coins and buttons and bottlecaps and a great big pocket watch and rings and a compact mirror… Quirinius stared at the nest in awe of it, and then all around himself and he wondered at what sort of place this was he’d been taken away to.

Meanwhile, outside of the case, Newt was kneeling beside Tina and he pulled out the stitching kit and folded back the torn bits of her blouse. “Teeny, I’m here… I’m here, love… I - I’m here.” He pulled out a bottle of potion and he turned her face, his hand folded so that his fingertips brushed her skin gently, lovingly… He bit the stopper off the bottle and tilted her head up with his other palm and said softly, “This - this will taste quite nasty, but you’ve got to - to drink it all. Very important.”

He poured the sanguine into her mouth, the red potion thick and blood-like as it went down and she gagged, sputtering. But gagging and sputtering were better than the silence that had preceded it. Newt carefully poured every last drop of the liquid into her mouth. When every drop had gone in, he was delighted to find that she opened her eyes and his heart soared with hope. Now to just fix her up… and all would be well…

He whispered, “Alright, love, I need to be moving you into the case, my love.”

She blinked up at him.

“Gentle now,” he whispered, and he waved his wand at the case to expand the opening. Satisfied they’d fit through, he stuck the wand between his teeth, and he slid his arms beneath her, one arm under her legs, the other bracing her back. Newt Scamander was stronger than he looked like he ought to be. In his pocket, the wolf pup continued chewing on the glove, even as he lifted Tina up from the ground. He pulled her into him and felt the weight of her against his chest. He closed his eyes and carried her to the briefcase and stepped carefully down the ladder and into the laboratory.

Quirinus Quirrell turned to look as Newt came in the case and he hurried over, clearing off the laboratory table, instinctively knowing that’s where Newt was headed with Tina. “What happened to her?” Quirinus asked, looking her over with wide eyes.

“Werewolf… scratches, I don’t believe she’s been bitten, can’t - can’t tell just yet…” Newt answered, having put Tina down and taken his wand from his mouth. He hurried to get the stitching kit from the shelf where he’d pulled it down before going out to collect her. He waved his wand at the lid of the case, closing it, locking it from the inside so that no one could join them. It was the safest he could make them all until he could leave the case again to move it. He shivered at the thought of all of the werewolves surrounding the case - probably even at that very moment. The shield charm would not last forever.

But he’d gotten them all into the case, at least.

Thirty-seven children, Ned Viegler, Bradley Baker, and Tina.

All in the case.

He turned to Tina and Quirinus hovered, nervous, looking over Newt’s shoulder, “Can I help?” he boy asked.

Newt said, “Get me out a - a, uh, a needle and the thread from that kit.”

Quirinus turned to do as he’d been told.

Newt turned to Tina, his eyes gentle, voice a bit quavery from nervousness. “Teeny, love, t-tell me about - about the Yonkers again.”

“Yankees,” she whispered, correcting him.

He breathed in relief to hear her voice. “Yes, yes the Yankees. Tell me about, uh, the - the Yankees.”

“You h-hate baseball, Newt…” she whispered.

“Yes, yes - it’s not like quidditch.”

“Not at all.”

Quirinus was back with the needle and thread and he thrust them into Newt’s hands, “Here, sir,” he said and Newt took them and started unspooling the thread carefully.

“I just don’t, uh, understand how it works. There’s loads of chasers, loads.”

“T-they’re field… players…”

He was lacing the needle with the thread, biting his tongue. “But there’s a beater.”

“Batter.”

“And they wear funny clothes.”

“Uni..forms..”

“Tell me about - about your dad and the Yankees, love.” Newt bent forward, breathing on the needle to warm it, his hands shaking.

Tina shivered against the table she was laying on. “Newt I’m so - so cold.”

“I’m sorry Teeny, I’m so sorry.” He turned to Quirinus. “In the cupboard back there, find a bottle with - with red potion. Deep, deep red. Blood red.”

Quirinus turned to the cupboard, fumbling about through the contents. There were loads of potions ingredients, loads of potions, all in tiny bottles with no labels, only stoppers. He brushed through the bottles hurriedly, with a good deal of clinking glass.

Newt looked down at Tina’s pale face, “Teeny, tell me about your Yankees, love.”

“They’re… magic,” she whispered. “Daddy loved them.”

“Yes, yes, and - and he took you and Queenie?”

Tina nodded. “Took us… every year… for his… his birthday…”

“Tell me about the, the whole rum ball.”

“Home… homerun ball,” murmured Tina, “Its - its a homerun…”

“Tell me about it.” He lowered the needle to her skin and took a deep breath as he pushed it through, trying not to think about what he was doing too much because if he did he would be sick with nervousness. Keeping Tina talking was as much to distract himself as it was to keep her awake.

“Frank… Homerun Baker… he… was up… Queenie said he… he would hit the ball because he was thinking real… real hard on it… he wanted it, too much not to hit it, she said… said she could… could see it in his mind…”

Newt was shaking too hard to get the needle to move through, tears stinging his eyes as she spoke. He was trying so very, very hard not to think about it. Stop, he thought to himself, Stop being so nervous, you can’t be nervous, she needs you not to be nervous.

“Is this it?” asked Quirinus, appearing at Newt’s shoulder with a small bottle of sanguine.

“Y-Yes,” Newt said, grabbing it from Quirinus’s hand quickly. Newt put down the needle, gently weaving it through a bit of her blouse so he wouldn’t lose it, so he could give her the sanguine. “Was there more?” Newt asked Quirinus. The blood was still coming from Teeny’s wound quite profusely.

“Two others. Is she dying, sir?” Quirinus asked.

Newt looked up at him. “No,” he snapped the word very harshly. “No. Go check on the children. Go.” He waved Quirinus away. Then he turned back to Teeny. “And was - was Queenie right, love?” he asked, tears in his eyes.

“Queenie’s always right,” murmured Tina.

Newt nodded and he pulled the cork off the bottle. “Teeny, more sanguine.”

“No… no more,” she pleaded.

“I know it tastes quite nasty but you need it.” He poured it into her mouth gently and she gagged on it again, the coppery smell of it filled his nostrils and he nearly gagged for her at the scent of it.

When he’d poured it all in, he tried to take the needle back up, but Quirinus’s question had shaken him up so badly that he couldn’t even begin to hold his hand steady any longer and he didn’t dare to push the needle through her skin again and he covered his eyes with his palms.

“We caught it…” Tina whispered, “The ball… When Frank… Frank Baker… hit the home run… we… caught it… Buried the ball with daddy… when he died…”

Two more bottles of sanguine. Just two.

He’d already gone through two.

It wasn’t enough.

But he needed something to keep her until he could get her help… He thought of Poppy Pomfrey at Hogwarts, the healer he truly trusted to understand that Ned Veigler had not meant to do what he’d done. If they went to Mungo’s, surely they’d have to turn Ned in and then what? But Poppy, Poppy would understand…

Newt was crying. He was failing her. He felt horribly.

He hastened to the cupboard to get a syringe from his box of muggle medical tools. He’d studied a bit of muggle medical work for a time when he’d stayed with Tina in New York for a year. He’d found it very useful over the time since, whenever there were magical injuries that spell work couldn’t heal… a splinching, for example, he’d been able to mend it up right quick. One of the things he’d learned of was a blood bank, a place where healthy people went and gave their blood to give to people who needed more blood. And he thought he would give all of his blood to Tina if he had to.

So he quickly drew his own blood from his veins, siphoning it into vials that he lined up on the counter until he felt a wee bit dizzy and thought he ought to stop.

Perhaps this would be enough, with the sanguine, to keep her until he could get help. And if it wasn’t, Merlin’s beard, he’d draw more.

Tina’s eyes flickered open and she looked up at him, her hands trembling. “N-Newt?”

“Teeny.” He lowered his palms from his face, large tears rolling softly over his nose.

“Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t. I won’t leave you,” he choked the words out. “Never.”

She grabbed his hand.

In his pocket the tiny werewolf pup whimpered and she turned her head weakly, “What… what was that?”

Newt said, “N-nothing.”

“Newt.”

Hesitantly, he reached into his pocket, sliding his hand into the glove he’d left in there as he did and scooped Bradley up from the depths. He held the tiny pup up for Tina to see. “I - I tried to stop - stop it, but, I uh, I couldn’t… and… but I got him before… before he could be killed.”

Tina’s eyes were dim, but she stared at the pup as he wriggled in Newt’s hand, trying to get away, his little tail wagging in annoyance.

“Can we keep him?”

Newt looked down at her and he laughed breathily, “Teeny - usually it’s me asking if we can keep things, love.”

“Please?” she asked.

He thought of the little boy staring up at him - asking where his mummy and daddy were - of the fact that this tiny werewolf pup was, indeed, an orphan… and he nodded, “I - I suppose we can.”

Tina closed her eyes.