"...Oh, yes," Newt remembers now, flushing at the memory. The corners of his lips twitch up, both embarrassed and amused all at once. "Right. I do recall telling you I have the middle name of a dog."

Newt lacks any shame for delighting in Tina's presence here with him. If he can't be back home, publishing his book and continuing his studies, he's glad, at least, to be stuck in the same place as Tina once again.

"Indeed," he agrees when they part. It feels terribly improper, kissing Tina in his bed. And he finds he likes it all the more for that.