all_the_gifts | (no subject)

January 1st, 2018:

Part of Melanie is sad to miss the New Year's festivities. But she's seen the tree lighting ceremony, and doesn't really think she'll be missing too much. Besides, she doesn't want Newt or James to have to bespell her just so the crowds won't get too overwhelming.

That it's cold makes a difference, too. She doesn't really feel it, but when it gets very cold, like it is now, she's noticed that she starts to slow down a little. She isn't sure what hungries do in regions where it gets this cold, but she knows if anyone saw her slowing down too much, they'd just fret and bring her back inside, anyway.

It's not as if she doesn't like spending time in the Nook. The holiday decorations are still up, and they still look marvelous. She's perfectly happy to just snuggle up with a pile of books.

The books are so absorbing that she completely forgets to mark the official passing of the year. She doesn't watch the clock, she doesn't count down. But midnight still ends up being impossible to miss, because everything changes, all in a rush.

It feels a little like magic, the way her senses are suddenly muted. It's not that she can't smell, or hear, just that she can't smell or hear as much as before. She has to take a few deep breaths just to confirm that she can still smell anything at all, but the sharp pine scent of the tree is still there, and the lingering smells from Newt and James's dinner. To her considerable surprise, those scents, though faint, are more tempting than they've ever been before.

Melanie gets to her feet, frowning as she does so. She feels... heavy. Or heavier, anyway. She shifts her weight experimentally, then takes a few slow steps towards the kitchen. Her body still seems to be working like it should, but it also feels different in myriad ways she finds difficult to place. It isn't until she sets her hand on her own belly, patting herself as if to make sure she's all there, that she realizes she feels warm. Not safe-inside warm, but warmer-than-the-room warm.

She starts to get an inkling, then, of what this might mean, but it's so hard to believe that she shakes her head in automatic denial. Even Newt and James, with all their magic, can't fix her. They can make a broom fly, but they can't make her what she's not.

She's still standing there, bewildered, when someone finally walks into the room. "I think something's wrong with me," she says.

Threaded | Flat

Newt's exhausted and covered in debris by the time he makes it back to the Nook. He means to return to where the giant Hatchimal is still wreaking havoc on Darrow's shores, but first, in the midst of all the chaos, he needs to check on Melanie and make sure she's safe. He also needs a large glass of Butterbeer, and a chance to catch his breath. He's used up a lot of energy in trying to contain this latest crisis, and he needs to restore some of it before he can continue helping.

He staggers into the Nook, aiming for one of the chairs in the living room. Which is when Melanie turns to him, telling him something's wrong.

"Is it?" He asks, suddenly alert again as he makes his way over to her, glancing at her up and down. "What's wrong Melanie? Are you alright? Are you sick?" She looks perfectly fine to him. And then it hits him. She looks perfectly fine. "Melanie?"

He doesn't like leaving Melanie alone for long periods of time, despite the fact that he knows the Nook is heavily warded. Without Lily or Harry to ring in the New Year with, he'd been perfectly content to remain at home and watch over Melanie.

She's had her nose in a book for most of the night, but it's just past twelve and James thinks she might appreciate a midnight snack and a cup of tea. It's New Year's Eve after all, and he's sure he can whip up something for both of them, bearing in mind Melanie's particular eating habits.

When he goes to flick the kettle on with his wand however, nothing happens at all. He tries again, but there's still nothing, and worse than that he feels... off. It's not the same as when his magic had gone haywire a few months ago. This time he can't feel it at all, and his wand feels like a plain old lump of wood in his hands, refusing to respond to his touch at all.

It's all so wrong, and James is still staring at his wand with a mix of confusion and horror on his face when Melanie walks in the room and announces that something is wrong.

"What is it?" he asks, glancing up quickly and trying to shake off the horrible feeling that's just come over him. Whatever is going on with his own magic, Melanie comes first.