Deerington Inbox

[newtralize]

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Ah. Er, hello? Oh, uhm. This is rather weird...right! T-This is Newt Scamander. Well, actually, this is a pre recorded message for Newt Scamander. I'm quite busy, so I may have missed you. Do please leave a message and I'll get back to you. Apologies.

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[creidim]

[ Luna goes quiet, her lips pursed but expression otherwise frozen for a moment before she swallows thickly and nods. Her face shifts into a more quieter sorrow. She's mortified, more than anything. How could she not have checked it? How could she have thought for one moment that her peers wouldn't destroy something so precious?

A tear or two slip from her eyes and she moves to wipe them with a trembling hand, nodding silently at Newt's words. ]

I'm sorry, too. [ She wrings her hand, nodding again. ] I didn't quite think they'd— stealing is one thing. But, you know—

[ She tries to smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes. ]

It was important, you know? Showing you this.

[newtralize]

[Focusing on Luna is a double-edged sword, he's finding. He doesn't want to see the ruins of a well loved book, but he's remembering why he hadn't tried to focus on her too long. Her injured hand had been, well, distracting.

So he finally pulls away from Greg. At the very least, he has dittany. He'll nip that in the bud before he does something stupid.]

I'm glad you showed it to me, Luna. [He offers a twitch of a smile.] I mean- Knowing how much that book, my work, meant to you. Knowing that, uhm, people care about what I've done years later. It gives me hope that there are others. [Because there certainly weren't many during his time.] That kind of passion is something that can't be contained in a book and the importance, your worth and intellect, can not be contained in the margins of one.