Perhaps it was the swig of wine that warned her. While Tilda herself had never been much of a nervous drinker, she certainly recognized that trait in other people.

Even with the visual clues that Mr. Scamander gave her - the drink of wine, the nervousness radiating off of him, the fact that he’d sat down - nothing could have prepared her for such a confession.

It all sunk in with the effect of lead in water. He'd warned her it would be a shock, and he was right. The smile that had just recently danced across her lips faded, and faded quickly as she processed what he'd just told her. The blanket in her hands dropped to the floor, his words playing over in her head. I am currently married. "You're...married?" She echoed softly, letting the words stumble off her tongue.

He was married. With a son, no less!

Tilda stared at the floor, stricken and unable to form the proper words. It was as if a great cavern had just opened at the base of the hearth and he'd pushed her in. But...but then why had he paid her so much attention this past summer? Why hadn't he told her about his wife? Her gaze went back to him, suddenly horrified. Did his wife know about me?

"I don't..." Tilda tried, but the words died in her throat. "I don't understand..."

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