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The fire crackled brightly, and the cat on the table curiously buried its whiskers in a glass bottle. The foam of the butterbeer was breaking, and the snow on the ground was accumulating.
"You look so old," Leta said, raising her butterbeer mug, the pale yellow liquid obscuring Newt's face.
"Mm," Newt replied, still not looking directly at Leta.
He seemed to want to say something, but when the moment truly arrived, the words he had hidden for years couldn't come out.
"You should be angry with me," Leta said, gazing at the hazy white outline of the distant mountains.
"I've never been angry with you," Newt's tone sounded exceptionally stiff.
The two fell silent, making the black cat feel as if they spoke different languages.
It tilted its head slightly, roughly understanding the whole story.
The old Hufflepuff senior had once taken the blame for Leta, which led to his expulsion from Hogwarts.
But Leta didn't have the courage to tell everyone the truth at that time.
Even years later, Leta still believed Newt should hate her; she had caused him to be expelled from Hogwarts and made it impossible for him to find a decent job.
If the Transfiguration professor at the time, Dumbledore, hadn't opposed the school's punishment, Newt might not have even been able to keep his wand, just like Hagrid.
And the fate of a wizard without a wand was imaginable.
This easily explained why the old Hufflepuff senior's life had once been so difficult.
According to him, one of the reasons he wrote Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them was:
"Augustus Worme of Obscurus Books commissioned me to write an authoritative compendium of magical creatures. I was then but a lowly Ministry of Magic employee and leapt at the chance both to augment my weekly wage of two Sickles and to spend my holidays travelling the globe in search of new magical species."
Two Sickles a week was absolutely insufficient for a wizard living in the magical world.
Not to mention the old Hufflepuff senior's lifelong dream of traveling the world and exploring magical creatures.
Snow drifted onto the window of the wooden house. Melted by the heat from the fireplace, it turned into water droplets falling onto the white flowers.
Leta went to the kitchen.
Newt hesitated to speak, finally only looking at the cat.
The black cat was drinking butterbeer in an exceptionally amusing posture: mouth wide open, letting the butterbeer flow from the tilted cup into its mouth, unlike a normal cat.
Newt smiled involuntarily and just watched the cat.
"If you want to say something to Ms. Leta, please say it," the black cat put down the glass.
Newt fell silent. Facing the black cat's question, he realized he didn't know how to start.
"You don't have much time left."
The black cat watched the mist gradually thicken. Unknowingly, it was rising on the coast, in the garden, and amidst the roaring fire in the house.
The Borderland was evicting people.
The black cat counted the time and found that it had stayed in the Borderland a bit longer.
It understood that it was likely due to that sudden legend in the Borderland.
Strange, though. It seemed too easy for a wizard's soul to fall in love with something in the Borderland.
Like an ethereal rumor, a rumored cat.
The black cat gazed at Newt with emerald vertical pupils, and Newt felt seen through.
He felt he could resist, but he was always honest.
"You should tell her."
"W-What?"
"You don't tell the truth in your heart either."
"What?"
"Mr. Scamander..."
"Dear Bastet, please stop making me go in circles."
"I mean, your heart is truly complicated."
"Wizards' hearts are all complicated."
"Ms. Leta feels very guilty."
"Why?"
"You are..."
The black cat understood. The old Hufflepuff senior was too upright and kind. He willingly accepted the consequences of his choice and never resented anyone.
But Leta didn't think so.
In other words, the old Hufflepuff senior could only realize there must be a misunderstanding, but he didn't know the key point.
And Leta naturally was too ashamed to bring it up.
What made the black cat suddenly realize was that this might be a conversation that was a lifetime late.
No wonder Mr. Scamander was so persistent.
Clanging sounds came from the kitchen; Leta was carefully preparing something.
The black cat gave Newt a look he couldn't understand. While Newt stared blankly and confusedly at the black cat, it had already darted into the kitchen.
"Dear Bastet, or should I call you the black cat who governs luck and dreams?"
Leta paused her hand directing the pots and bowls and asked it.
The black cat shook its head, not knowing which title it was denying.
"What are you sizing me up for? When did such a bad wizard come to the Borderland?"
Leta manipulated the pots and bowls. Only then did the black cat notice that this place seemed to have been damaged; some bowls were broken, and some cupboards were missing doors.
This was the first time the black cat had found traces of soul conflict in the Borderland.
What it didn't understand was, what else could hurt a soul?
"Contrary to your description," the black cat jumped onto the table.
"Nobody here likes me either; maybe you haven't liked me either."
Leta was still busy; she opened the battered oven.
"That's not right. I never thought you were bad," the black cat said.
"Then you're an exception. Everyone else thinks I'm bad; they're right, I'm evil," Leta's voice was very soft.
"Ms. Lestrange, there is no one who shouldn't be forgiven, including yourself. Even if you have sinned," the black cat said.
"Are you comforting me?" Leta smiled.
The black cat neither admitted nor denied it. It just jumped onto Leta's shoulder and watched the snow on the window melt in the heat with her.
"No wonder people like you," Leta sighed.
The black cat raised its tail in confusion.
"But you can never understand wizards, dear Bastet. Unless you are like me, exactly like me."
Leta never thought she would discuss these things with a wizard, but now standing on her shoulder was a cat.
Her gaze became somewhat unfocused.
For so many years, those past events repeatedly appeared in her nightmares.
It was a night in 1901.
In the cabin. Child Leta was awake in the lower bunk, while her brother, baby Corvus, was screaming in the crib.
The lights suddenly flickered on and off—Child Leta didn't move; she kept watching the screaming baby Corvus.
Figures ran past in the corridor outside the door. Child Leta walked towards the ceaselessly crying baby Corvus. She noticed the door of the opposite cabin was slightly ajar. Baby Credence was sleeping soundly inside.
Child Leta sneaked in and swapped the two babies.
"I never meant to hurt him. I just wanted to get rid of him for a little while, just a moment..."
The black cat opened its vertical pupils possessing Legilimency abilities and heard Leta's mature voice.
The ship in 1901 suddenly began to rock. Child Leta's mother snatched up baby Credence, not realizing in the chaos that the baby had been swapped.
The cabin door was suddenly burst open again. Outside was a young woman with black hair, wearing pajamas and a life jacket.
Credence's mother burst in. She dodged into her own cabin, picked up baby Corvus, and also failed to discover the baby had been swapped.
Child Leta, Irma, and baby Credence were in a lifeboat.
Credence's mother and Leta's brother, baby Corvus, were in another lifeboat.
A huge wave surged. Child Leta watched helplessly as the lifeboat with Credence's mother and baby Corvus was overturned.
Several survivors surfaced, including Credence's mother, but no baby Corvus...
Credence's mother took off her life jacket and let herself sink into the water too...
She never surfaced again.
Child Leta's gaze penetrated the sea surface, passing the drowned woman, revealing the black silhouette of a drowned baby.
The drowned baby fell in the green seawater, finally suspended in a mausoleum.
Leta conjured this illusion. It had entangled Leta for a lifetime, and at this moment, she showed it to the black cat.
"This is not your fault," the black cat said.
"Then whose fault is it?" Leta asked.
"No one is at fault in the face of disaster."
The black cat fell silent.
"I am a monster, dear Bastet. What Newt encountered was a monster he couldn't love."
Leta seemed to have no intention of going out. She placed a dried fish in front of the black cat and looked at it just like that.
"Thank you, but I am not a cat," the black cat said, pushing the dried fish away with its paw.
"Oh, alright, great Ruler of Dreams, Messenger of Good Luck, Bastet symbolizing War and Family, would you like to enjoy my offering?" Leta smiled, eyes crinkling.
And the black cat suddenly realized they were in love.
Leta and Newt, in those hazy, obscure moments they passed together at Hogwarts, love grew.
"Grandma Milan said..." the black cat began, and Leta involuntarily focused her attention on it.
"When she was young, she didn't understand how contradictory human nature is. She didn't know how much affectation is in sincerity, how much baseness is hidden in nobility, or perhaps, virtue can also be found in evil.
"Some people see evil, and some see virtue."
Leta fell silent. She tilted her head slightly so her cheek could touch the black cat's whiskers.
"You've learned many principles of wizards. Some people know many principles but can't be good wizards," Leta sighed after the silence.
"You should tell him," the black cat said.
"Tell him what?" Leta asked.
"Tell him you feel very guilty," the black cat said.
"But he should hate me," Leta was somewhat distracted.
"He never hated you."
The black cat realized the two had gone in a big circle.
"I am very grateful to you, we all are, but you don't have to comfort me," Leta obviously didn't believe it.
This made the black cat silent for a while.
Mr. Scamander chose silence at that time, and Leta chose to escape because of her cowardice and guilt at that time.
Two sixteen-year-old wizards could only leave behind a regret that could never be spoken again.
Let it be buried with the love that never had a chance to grow.