In The Circus Of The Mind

Disclaimer: All Fantastic Beasts names, characters and locations belong to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing that you recognize.


Chapter 1 - Control

A gentle murmur of conversation filled the tent, their warm words and occasional laughter mingling with scrape of cutlery against plates. The noise was constant throughout the day, droning on and on like a splinter in Credence's mind. Listening to it made him anxious, a muscle twitching over his left eye as he sat with his head down, staring at the plate that had been placed in front of him.

He felt certain these people were talking about him, their hushed tones and staring eyes following him wherever he went.

Credence shook his head, trying to rid his mind of such thoughts. This was his home now. Surely they cared about him more than his previous family. And yet they still felt distant, separated from himself and his "condition", as he chose to call it. The only one who seemed to understand was the young lady seated next to him, her eyes moving from one face to the next, watching their lips move as they spoke and laughed.

He reached beneath the table and withdrew a length of wood from his pocket, his dinner forgotten as he turned the wand over in his hands. Having this meant that he was expected to exhibit some control over his magic. But control wasn't so easy. Not with the remnants of his Obscurus coiling in his chest, its dark tendrils writhing beneath his skin, threatening to escape. He didn't even realize that he was shaking.

This wand was freedom and repression all in one. It was sin and salvation enshrined within a singular structure, beautifully carved, ornately designed with a raised diamond pattern on the handle. And at its center was a star, a circle enclosing the symbol of his ancestry. There were nights he lay awake, running his fingers over the patterns and textures, incredulous that this was really happening, that he'd finally become part of the wizarding world.

And still the people chattered pleasantly and smiled. Sometimes it felt as though their voices were everywhere, each one making a mockery of the horror he'd become.

'They're laughing at me,' Credence thought, twitching and glancing at the people across from him.

He'd gone from being a freak, standing on the street corner handing out leaflets for his mother's church, to a circus freak performing for the general public. He knew what he was and that he deserved all that he got. And yet there was indignation and fury buried beneath a growing desire to silence them once and for all.

"Credence?"

A snarl formed on his lips, darkness seeping from his pores and clinging to the bench. It flowed effortlessly over the cracks in the wood, reminding him of how easy it was to let go.

"Credence, no," a frightened voice whispered. "Not here."

He had risen halfway from his seat when he realized that she was squeezing his arm, holding on in an attempt to keep him from lashing out at his fellow performers.

She told him that he wasn't the monster people paid to see, leaping and plunging and clinging to the fabric of the tent. Credence had difficulty believing that was true. And yet every time he looked at her, seeing that familiar blend of fear and affection, it was enough to pull him back, the gentle murmur of conversation resuming once he'd taken his seat.

"I'm sorry," Credence whispered, bowing his head as she snuggled up close, draping her arm around his shoulder. He was trembling, fearing that he might lose control, and for a moment he felt ashamed of himself for causing such a scene.

"It's alright," she gently murmured. "I don't think anyone really noticed."

'Of course not,' he thought sadly, glancing at them before looking back at her. 'No one ever notices me.'