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The Hunter and the Harp

Oven. Tina felt like she was baking in an oven, and random side jokes and puns aside about the bun baking in her oven, this was exactly what she expected it to feel like being roasted alive.

“Are you alright, love?” He looked up to her from his field journal and illuminated wand, eyes soft for her even in her obvious state of discomfort. But in her current position, the way she looked back at him could burn him in his spot. He didn't need much light to see her glare.

“I think if you leave me in this heat much longer, I may actually go into labor right here.”

Newt’s eyes went wide in startlement. “Are you-” but she didn't even let him ask such a question.

“ It's hot,” her tongue bit the air bitterly. “For this supposedly being paradise , the heat may actually kill me before I even get the chance to give birth to your child.” Her eyes burned fiery red in the dying light as she spat the less pleasant language of her gaze.

Newt felt himself growing stranded between his wife’s discomfort and his task at hand and knew his options were quickly dwindling down. He glanced at the bejeweled crabs to his right once before finally settling on making the mother of his soon-to-be child happy. The crabs could wait.

He made haste wrapping up his things. A flick of his wrist and his notes and journals all neatly gathered into his dragonhide satchel and stowed themselves away. Tina watched him heave the heavy bag onto his shoulder before looking back down to her and holding out both arms to help her stand. She made a displeased noise but swallowed any ill-intended words as she accepted his assistance and let him carefully heave her to her feet before taking his arm as they navigated down the rocky surface and sandy hill towards their temporary housing.

With a balance that challenged her coordination and an uneven surface to navigate, the Scamander’s walk home was slow and much more tenuous than the magical couple were accustomed to. Tina longed for the days in which she could safely apparate from destination to destination, because the “muggle way” of travel was not befitting to her. By the time they reached the summit of the hill, still a few yards from the house they called a temporary home, the daylight had faded to darkness of the night and Tina felt her swollen feet and limbs aching with the effort of her walk. She looked up at the house and felt the Earth give an unease twirl beneath her feet as her head spun with the effort, and her stomach give an uneasy lurch. Tina swayed to the side as she attempted to regain her bearings but Newt had immediately reacted to her side step, arms almost instantly going around her.

“I’m fine,” she repeated twice uneasily as he frantically circled her while examining for injury. She tried to stand straight and felt the ground begin to fall to the left. Her body stumbled as her hand went to her forehead in a feeble attempt to stabilize herself. Newt intervened instantaneously, sliding his arms beneath hers to support her weight.

Tina swallowed thickly at the nausea in her stomach and finally gave into the weight pressing her down. “Maybe I should sit for a minute.”

He helped her take a seat on the warm summer grass carefully, strong arms steadying her as he lowered her to the ground. Tina mumbled incoherently as she stretched her aching legs forward and welcomed Newt’s arms around her as he sat behind her with knees bent at either side and let her recline against his strong chest. Tina closed her eyes and let herself take several slow breaths.

The warm air seemed to still around them, and by the time she reopened her dark eyes in the low light of the moon and stars, there was a settled peace of the hilltop.

Newt laced her fingers with his, and let her shift slightly from between her knees until she could recline slightly on her side and press her ear into his chest. “Do you want to go inside?” His voice was warm and liquid like a thick honey mixing into hot tea.

“In a minute.” She let her eyes close once more while she took a deep inhale. “I just need a minute.”

So he gave her a minute. And then he gave her several more. The longer they sat silently on the sweet summer grass, the brighter the stars seemed to shine in the black abyss of the night sky.

When she reopened her eyes, Newt had his chin pressed against the top of her head with a soft hum in his throat. She glanced at the stars and felt his thumb absently drawing soft circles in the tender skin of her wrist.

Tina laughed and Newt let his ticklish ministrations fall away as he tilted his neck to kiss her forehead. She made a happy noise that echoed on his smile.

“What?” Newt asked her with tenderness in his voice.

She smiled with another kiss to her forehead and opened her eyes to the glittering jewels overhead.

“You can see so many stars here.” Tina felt her stomach flip and a powerful tug swim across her swollen middle. Newt felt the movement as well and adjusted his position until he could watch her stomach and press a warm palm to her belly.

“We haven't chosen a name for him yet.” Tina’s voice was soft as if the unborn child within her womb could hear her voice and wake if they spoke too loudly.

Newt thought about it for a moment and then glanced up at the stardusted sky above them.

“Orion.”

Tina smiled and covered his hand with hers on her stomach. “After the constellation?”

“Why not?” He thought for a moment. “Orion if it's a son and Lyra for a daughter.”

“The hunter and the harp. You don't think it's too much to name our child after constellations?”

He leaned into her and pressed his lips to the side of her neck. “I think it would fit our child perfectly .”