"Ní mhaireann solas na maidine don lá." // "No morning sun lasts all day."

“I don’t like the idea of running and hiding.” Tara grumbled as she shoved more clothes into her suitcase.

Leta sighed from where she was waiting in the doorway of Tara’s bedroom.

“You’re not hiding. Or running.” she attempted to reason. “You’re just taking precautions. Precautions that are necessary. If that wizard had only aimed a little bit higher-”

“I know, Leta. I know.” Tara interrupted, snapping her suitcase shut with a heavy sigh. She flattened her palms against the lid, pressing down on it slightly. “I just feel like he’s winning somehow.” she eventually admitted in a whisper.

Leta’s expression fell into a more serious one, walking over to place a supportive hand in between her friend’s shoulder blades.

“You will never let him win.” the witch stated confidently. “I know enough about my best friend to know that.”

Tara slowly glanced back at her, eventually managing the smallest of smiles. One that Leta quickly returned.

“Come on.” she beckoned. “Theseus is waiting.”

Immediately, Tara let out an annoyed groan, tugging her case off of her bed.

“You know, we were actually having a really nice moment there, and you just had to go and ruin it by bringing up the oaf.” she grumbled.

Leta snickered.

“Hey- that ‘oaf’ is about to be your roommate for the foreseeable future. So, behave yourself.”

“No promises.”

The two of them left behind the flat that had been their home for close to a decade by that point, and crossed the street to meet up with the Auror that was patiently waiting for them at the corner.

Theseus pushed himself off of the lamp post that he had been leaning on.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

Leta glanced over at Tara, noting that the girl was still sporting a heavy frown.

“As we’ll ever be I guess.” she answered for them both.

Theseus shook his head, instinctively reaching over to grab Tara’s suitcase from her hands.

She was quick to snatch it back.

“I can manage. Thanks.”

Theseus clenched his jaw for just a moment before forcing a smile onto his face. 

Leta had to force down her own laughter.

The group arrived at Theseus’ house about twenty minutes later. He had offered the witches the two bedrooms on the second floor, stating that he would take the couch for the time being. 

As Tara pushed open the door of what was now to be her room, she had to push aside the sickening sense of deja vu that had tried to creep up her spine. Shaking her head, she simply threw her bags down onto the bed and began to unpack.

Dinner wasn’t nearly as awkward as the last time the three of them had eaten together. They were smart and avoided all talk of Grindelwald, and by extension the Ministry, completely. Instead, they took turns swapping stories about their times at Hogwarts, stories that included either each other, professors they knew, or even the absent youngest Scamander brother.

It was the most normal Tara had felt in a long, long time.

But when night inevitably fell, she had terrible trouble falling asleep. And when she did manage to do so, she was plagued by frightening images of the entire city of London on fire. People all around her were bleeding out, screaming, or just lying motionless in the street. She saw Leta amongst a pile of rubble, and had tried to reach out for her but was promptly thrown aside by a force that she could not see. She eventually found herself collapsing down at the side of a second body, this one much larger. And when she reached out to roll it over, she was looking down at the bloodied and battered face of Theseus Scamander.

Tara sputtered back awake, gasping for air. It took her a while longer to settle her breathing in the darkness of the otherwise empty bedroom. She then promptly shoved the blanket off of her legs, slipping out of the bed completely. She could feel her head pounding against her skull, her breathing still fairly shallow. Reaching up, she ran the back of her hand along her forehead to clear it of the slight sheen of sweat that had appeared there during the night terror.

After taking a few more moments to remember how to properly fill her lungs with oxygen, she crossed the floor and threw open the door with a purpose.

Padding down the staircase, she walked through the dark house with a familiarity that she all but refused to acknowledge. Emerging out into the kitchen, she immediately began to rifle through the cabinets. Upon finding what she was looking for, she stood up on the very tips of her toes, wrapping her hands around the neck of a large bottle of Fire Whiskey. Bringing it down onto the counter, she made quick work of twisting off the cap. 

She had been just about to bring it to her lips, when a voice from behind her stopped her in her tracks.

“You’ve lived in my house for one day, and you’re already stealing my alcohol?” Theseus piped up from the entryway of the kitchen.

Tara winced, pulling the bottle away from her face and placing it back down on the countertop. She braced her hands on the surface to either side of it, but did not turn around.

“Couldn’t sleep.” she muttered in response.

Theseus took a few steps further into the room.

“Well, that’s not gonna help.”

“Exactly.”

Theseus didn’t, or couldn’t, respond to that one.

“Did I wake you?” Tara managed to ask.

“Nah.” the Auror whispered. “Couldn’t sleep well either.”

Finally, Tara tilted her head to look over at him through the darkness. She couldn’t exactly make out his expression, only the brief glint of his eyes as he moved towards the counter, eventually taking the bottle from her hands and opening one of the other cabinets up above their heads.

“How about I pour us some glasses, you know, like civilized people do, and we talk about it?” he suggested, already beginning to complete the first action.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” she muttered.

Theseus hummed in response.

“Right…Just the drinks then.” he said, offering her a glass.

Tara took it with a slight raise of her eyebrow.

“Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

Theseus shrugged his shoulders.

“Just don’t challenge me to another drinking contest and I think we’ll be alright.”

Tara scoffed.

“Funny how you keep misremembering that.” she muttered as she shuffled over to the kitchen table, pulling out a chair for herself.

Theseus kept his promise. They didn’t talk much at all initially, and when they did it was only to make remarks on the beverage and other trivial things about the house.

“You know this place hardly looks like a home.” Tara said in between swigs of whiskey.

“What do you mean?” Theseus asked.

Tara briefly gestured around with her hands.

“It’s so…bleak. Empty. You didn’t even have a stock of food the last time I was here. It was hard to believe this was the place you were actually living in.”

Theseus swallowed his drink with what seemed to be some difficulty, briefly glancing down at the table, his hands winding a bit tighter around the glass itself.

“Yeah well…I don’t really end up spending a ton of time here if I’m being honest.”

“Why?” Tara quickly pressed.

“It’s just…it’s like you said. It’s hardly a home.” he admitted.

Tara’s glass paused inches from her lips. The sound of his voice was so quiet. Vulnerable. Almost broken. And it might have been because of the alcohol, but hearing it…made her sad.

After downing the rest of her drink, Tara placed the empty glass back down onto the table.

“It was a nightmare.” 

Theseus picked his head up, looking over at her quizzically.

“The reason I’m awake.” she clarified.

The Auror’s expression immediately softened, though she still couldn’t make out much of it within the dim light of the kitchen.

“We said you didn’t have to talk about it.” he reminded her.

“I know.” she replied, lazily dragging her finger around the edges of her glass.

Another silence befell them as Theseus continued to nurse the rest of his own drink, having fallen behind as per usual. Back across the table from him, Tara took a moment to bite down hard on the inside of her cheek.

“I saw the Ministry on fire.” she blurted out, causing Theseus’ head to tilt up again. “I saw Leta dead on the ground. Countless others too. Buildings in pieces…just like back in Dublin-”

“Tara-”

“And I saw you.”

That made the Auror fall still, his mouth parting in surprise.

Tara was gripping her glass tightly now.

“I don’t know why I’m dreaming about these things. But I swear if anything happens to anyone else because of me…” her voice trailed off as she quickly shook her head. The feeling of hot tears had begun to burn at the edges of her eyes. 

Theseus reached across the table, carefully taking the glass from her hands. His fingers briefly brushed against hers as he did so, snapping her back to reality. Her eyes somehow found his in the darkness.

“We won’t let that happen.” he said boldly.

Tara stared back at him for a moment before eventually letting out a quiet huff of laughter.

“You’re really good at making bullshit promises, Scamander.” she mumbled. “I almost believe you there.”

Theseus stared back at her sadly, quite unsure of what to do at that moment. Half of the words or acts of comfort that had immediately flashed into his mind would surely have been met with either a chastising comment, or even a potential slap.

So, he opted to remain silent.

He gathered the glasses to deposit them into the sink, telling himself he would deal with them tomorrow.

Tara rose from her chair, frowning slightly as she felt the effects of the alcohol already fading from her system. She had begun to make her way back towards the staircase, sending Theseus a mock salute as she passed him by. 

“Try to get some sleep.” he called out after her.

Tara only hummed in response before disappearing from his sight.

When she was gone, Theseus let out a long, quiet sigh before heading back over to the couch in the living room. Only to lay on his back and stare dejectedly up at the ceiling.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡☆ﾟ.･ ───

Surprisingly enough for both of them, nightly drinks around the kitchen table became routine. 

Whenever a nightmare struck, or when sleep was simply alluding either of them, they would slink down into the kitchen together, pour out some fire whiskey, and just…talk.

Theseus had never been someone that Tara pegged for a particularly great conversationalist. As his nature was much like hers in a very blunt and abrasive sort of way. But her perception quickly changed over the following month. He was almost akin to a springboard, her words and anxieties bouncing off of him with little to no apparent consequence.

“I just wish I could stop.” she admitted quietly to him one night in particular.

“Stop what?”

“Caring so much. About the world. About other people. I think it would make everything…hurt less.”

Theseus hummed thoughtfully.

“I think that’s what makes us different from him though.” he countered wisely. “Our capacity for empathy. For compassion. It’s what we have that he doesn’t.”

Tara bit down on her bottom lip.

“But is it making us weaker?”

Theseus stared back at her with a light seriousness, his palms resting flat on the table in front of him.

“I don’t think so.” he eventually said. “Maybe in the moment. But when we finally see this thing through, I think that’s how we’ll win.”

“How so?”

“Because at the end of the day, without the manipulated followers, Grindelwald has no one. He has no friends. He has no family. Nobody who truly cares about him…ultimately, he’s standing alone.”

The corner of Tara’s mouth had twitched ever so slightly, the sentiment nearly drawing a smile out of her.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡☆ﾟ.･ ───