Author's note: Hi everybody! Thanks for reading. A lot is happening in this chapter, and I hope you like the theories I've come up with. You'll find my explanations on my theories at the end of the chapter.
Let's get to it!
~..~..~..~..
Queenie practically bounced up the steps of the brownstone apartment after her work day, already thinking of the letter she was going to send to Newt, regarding the best way to go about moving to England in the future. Neither of the sisters had yet to hear from the Magizoologist, but as far as they were aware, he would only just be arriving in England by now, and as Newt didn't seem to have his own owl, (strange, considering he appeared to have every other animal possible,) they figured they wouldn't hear from him for at least another week or so.
So focused was Queenie in her own mind, that she didn't register Tina's thoughts until she was right outside their door.
'What was Tina doing home so early?' She wondered, entering their apartment, only to be bombarded by such a surge of mixed emotions, it almost made her head spin.
"Teenie?" The blond rushed over to sit beside her sister on the couch in concern. The brunette appeared frozen, but her mind was a swirl of images and feelings, it was difficult to sort through.
"Tina, what's wrong?" Queenie asked as she saw tears flowing silently down her sister's face, falling on what appeared to be a letter unfolded in her hand. Wordlessly, Tina handed it over.
Dear Tina, Queenie read.
I'm able to send this letter to you a lot sooner than expected, as I believe that what has transpired is far too important, especially for you, and I felt you should know as soon as possible. I borrowed an owl for the purpose, thankfully my professor wrote back to me quickly, and I hope he doesn't mind if I send his owl on a detour to you before I reply to him.
But perhaps I should start at the beginning:
Credence is alive.
He's alive, Tina. He's here with me on the ship, making the crossing to England. I met him after I came aboard.
Apparently, when the aurors attacked him in the subway, he was able to survive due to being in obscurus form. He was able to escape and find a safe place to recover. He said he was able to return to human form after a day or so. Knowing he was presumed dead, he provided what he could for his younger sister, who remains in New York, got himself a passport and bought a ticket on the first ship leaving America which, incidentally, was the same ship I was booked on.
He clearly still has powerful magic within him, Tina, and I believe, if he could be taught how to harness it, the obscurus could be drained away.
Credence is currently helping me care for my creatures, and is doing particularly well with making friends with the mooncalves and the diricawls, not to mention the niffler. I get the impression Credence hasn't had many opportunities to smile, growing up with the Second Salemers. There are times when I correct him on something, and he flinches, as if expecting to be hit. I've seen abused creatures behaving in a similar way, and it breaks my heart, Tina, to see Credence shrink away one moment and then appear to crave contact the next. Dougal is often walking around, holding Credence's hand whenever he comes down to the case and they both seem to enjoy the company. I've been so happy to see the effect my creatures are having on him. Slowly, he appears to be relaxing.
But he still needs proper training with his magic, and while he appears an eager student, I believe he needs more in-depth schooling than I can provide. I've written to my old school professors for help, and thankfully, they've agreed to meet Credence to see if he can be taught.
There has never been an obscurial live long enough to even be of age to attend school, let alone reach adulthood. I'm not sure how much Credence will be able to learn, or whether the training will weaken the obscurus or strengthen it.
But I know, if we don't try something, Credence will suffer the fate every other obscurial before him has suffered, and I can't let that happen, Tina.
I know how much you care about Credence, Tina and so I know you will be worried about him. But I promise that I will do everything I can to protect him, and will keep you updated on his progress.
He remembers you helping him, Tina, and wanted me to ask if it would be alright for him to write to you. He said you were one of the few people he's ever known to do something nice for him without asking anything in return, and would like to see you again.
I admit, I'd like to see you again as well. Perhaps you could come to England in the near future? Once I hand in my manuscript, I'll be forced to attend many public events to promote my book, and I would love to have your support. Queenie is invited too, of course and I'm sure you'd both love to see how Credence is doing.
I know, as an auror, you may be struggling with whether or not to tell Madam Piquery of Credence's survival, but by the time you read this, Tina, we should have reached England, out of reach of MACUSA laws and jurisdiction. Therefore, you will not be doing anything wrong if you wanted to keep Credence a secret. My own brother, Theseus, is the head of the Auror department here in England, so I do understand your struggle, Tina. However, if you truly feel it is the right thing to do, please know I wouldn't blame you for anything.
I do hope this letter finds you and Queenie well, and I hope to hear from you soon.
Yours truly,
Newt Scamander.
"Oh, Tina," Queenie breathed.
"He's alive," Tina whispered, a hand reaching up to her chest as she tried to slow down her heart. "Credence is alive, and Newt is taking care of him."
"Oh, how wonderful," Queenie smiled. "Who better to take care of him than Newt?"
Tina smiled, and Queenie felt her sister's mind calm down as she thought of the caring, British magizoologist.
"You know," Queenie put forward. "He did say he'd love to have you in England."
"Queenie," Tina cautioned, trying to use occlumency to block her train of thought, but she'd never been good at it, not against her sister.
"Oh, Tina," Queenie held her sister close. "Not even aurors can be strong all the time. And he likes you too."
"Really?" Tina had never had the courage to ask Queenie to look into Newts mind for her. She felt that it wasn't her place to know, and besides, what if she didn't like the answer?
"Of course, he does. Write back to him," Queenie encouraged. "And to Credence. Quickly," she added, "that's not Newt's owl, after all."
Smiling, Tina stood up to find some stationary, when her eyes fell on the paper bag in her sister's hand.
"What's that?" She asked, but her suspicions were clear in her mind.
Queenie clutched the bag closer to her.
"I found Jacob's bakery," she confessed.
Tina froze.
"And?"
Hesitantly, Queenie brought the little demiguise pastry out of the paper bag to show her sister.
"He remembers?" Tina assumed, staring at the little creature shaped creation.
"Bits and pieces," Queenie admitted. "But they're all disjointed. Like dream fragments. Nothing links them."
"If anyone at MACUSA saw those pastries," Tina's mind filled with fear as she imagined her sister being arrested and taken away.
"It's a nomaj bakery, Tina, no one from MACUSA knows. I'd know if they did," Queenie assured her sister. "Jacob's no threat to us."
"I know that, Queenie," Tina tried to keep her voice calm. "But it's still illegal."
"I'm going to help him get his memory back," Queenie said in determination. "He knows he's forgetting something and wants to remember, I know it. I saw it in his head."
"And then what?" Tina asked in trepidation.
Queenie pursed her lips as she approached her sister, as she'd never actually had the courage to tell her the next part.
"We'll leave America," she stated and watched as grief filled her sister's face.
"Where will you go?" Tina asked, and Queenie felt a rush of relief. Her sister wasn't going to stop her, she was just going to miss her terribly.
Throwing her arms around her big sister in a hug, she kissed Tina's cheek.
"We'll go to England," Queenie spoke up as she held her sister close. "They don't have the same laws as here. Jacob and I could be together and we could be accepted."
Taking a shaky breath, Tina had to admit it was a plan. She wouldn't have to fear her sister would get arrested if she went to England.
But England was so far away…
"So, come with us," Queenie stepped back in excitement, already planning it in her mind. "Without me here, the only thing keeping you in New York is your work, and you would be accepted as an auror anywhere."
Tina frowned. But she only just got her job back-
"Newt said his brother was head of the auror department in England," Queenie pressed. "I'm sure, if you applied, you'd be guaranteed a job offer!"
Tina was starting to get overwhelmed, so Queenie felt it best to back off a little. The idea had been planted, though.
"Just think about it, please Teenie," Queenie beseeched her sister. "It'll take time for Jacob's memory to come back fully."
"Okay," Tina nodded. "I'll consider the idea. But don't go getting ahead of yourself, Queenie," she cautioned.
"Right," Queenie nodded. "Perspective."
Suddenly, she shoved a piece of parchment and a quill from the desk into her sister's hands.
"You get started on your letters to Newt and Credence," she instructed. "I'll start on dinner."
~..~..~..~..
"Come on Credence," Newt led the younger man up the stairs of the ship to the viewing deck, jostling past others eager to reach land. "We're nearly there."
Newt approached the railing and while it was true, that he still missed New York (or more specifically, the people he'd met in New York- and perhaps, even more specifically, a certain dark haired auror), he couldn't stop the fond smile spreading across his face as he beheld his beloved England.
A thump sounded from within his suitcase.
Credence knelt down on the deck, making as if he were tying his shoelace.
"It's alright Dougal," he told the case gently. "We're nearly in England. And I'll come down and see you as soon as I can, okay?" A softer 'thump' was his reply.
Credence stood back up, searching Newt's face for approval, and Newt smiled at him proudly.
"Dougal's become quite attached to you, Credence," he told him. "We'll make a magizoologist out of you, yet."
Credence allowed himself a small smile before he ducked his head.
"Do you think your old teachers will want to teach me?"
"Professor Dumbledore has already agreed to do so, even without Headmaster Dippet's permission if needs be." Newt reminded him of the letter he'd received a week ago. "Though I doubt that would be a problem. I remember Headmaster Dippet being very fair. As you're not a child though, I doubt you'd be able to join in the classes with the other students," Newt considered aloud, "but night classes and weekends are always an option."
Credence's began to shrink on himself, as he considered the real reason he wouldn't be allowed to attend classes with the other students would have nothing to do with his age.
"Well, let's cross that bridge when we come to it," Newt quickly moved on. "Professor Dumbledore is most eager to meet you, Credence. He said he'd be waiting for us at the docks."
~..~..~..~..
"Welcome home, Sir," the customs officer stamped Newt's passport before handing it back.
"Thank you," Newt said before moving off to the side, to wait for Credence. The customs agent found it strange that an American travelling to England would carry so little luggage, and asked him to open his bag. Not finding anything more suspicious than a change of clothes, a single notebook, Credence's adoption papers and some American money, he let him through.
"Welcome to England, Sir," he said as he stamped his passport.
"Thank you," Credence said before hurrying to catch up with Newt, who guided him through the throng of people eagerly.
Exiting the large customs building, Newt breathed in the crisp winter air, relishing the feeling of being back in more familiar surroundings.
"Newt!" A voice called, and the magizoologist turned to spy a man making his way toward them, smiling in welcome.
"Professor Dumbledore, Sir," Newt reached out and took the older man's hand gladly.
"So good to see you, Newt," Professor Dumbledore greeted. He was a slender man in his late forties, possibly early fifties, with auburn hair, lightly flecked with grey, that reached his shoulders and he sported a short beard. Accustomed as Newt was to seeing his school professor in wizard's robes, he had to admit, Dumbledore looked very different in the tailored purple suit he'd worn for this muggle environment. The shade of fabric brought out the red in his hair brilliantly and made his blue eyes seem to shine even brighter.
"Good to see you too, Sir," Newt replied with a smile. "Thank you for meeting us."
"Oh, my pleasure," Dumbledore smiled before turning his gaze to the young dark-haired man standing just behind Newt.
"And you must be Credence," Dumbledore smiled warmly as he extended a hand, though there seemed to be a hint of sadness to his eyes.
Slowly, Credence shook Dumbledore's hand as he nodded.
"Nice to meet you," he said quietly.
"Wonderful to meet you too, my boy," Dumbledore studied Credence thoughtfully before seeming to nod.
"Now," he announced with a twinkle in his eye. "Let's get you to Hogwarts. The Christmas holidays have just started, so the school should be relatively empty."
Christmas. Newt hadn't realised the holiday was so close. As they walked, he found himself thinking he really ought to get something for Tina. He'd never really been one for presents, but he wanted to get something for the raven-haired auror. Her last smile to him at the docks filled his mind and he felt his heart rate increase.
'Stop it, Newt,' he told himself. 'She's just a friend.'
But friends still give each other Christmas gifts, right?
Casting his eyes aside to Credence, Newt thought he should get something for him as well. The single small bag, mostly filled with papers, told Newt that there would be many things Credence would need, if he were to start a new life here in England.
And Newt found himself wondering if Credence had ever really received anything heartfelt in his life. Judging again by the small bag, and also the way Credence continued to walk with his head lowered, Newt doubted it, and promised himself he would do everything he could to help Credence start anew, here in England.
Leading the way down the streets, Dumbledore headed down an ally way, where he took a glass bottle from his pocket and placed it on the ground.
Credence watched with fascination as Dumbledore took out his wand and pointed at the bottle.
"Portus," he said, and the bottle glowed blue for a moment before returning to its former state.
"Do you have a permit for that?" Newt asked.
"Do you have a permit for that?" Dumbledore nodded at Newt's case.
Newt cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact and Dumbledore smiled knowingly.
"So, Credence," Dumbledore turned to the young man standing uncertainly at Newt's side. "Has Newt told you about portkeys?"
Credence shook his head.
"Well, it's basically an enchanted object that, when touched, will transport you to a predetermined destination," Dumbledore explained, gesturing to the bottle on the ground. "I have now enchanted this bottle, so that when we all touch it, we will appear outside Hogwarts school." Kneeling, he placed his hand on the glass, inviting the other two to join him.
Newt quickly knelt down, gripping his case tightly with one hand while placing his other on the portkey. Hesitantly, Credence followed suit.
"Now, this may feel a bit jarring," Dumbledore cautioned. "Three…two…one."
Newt felt the classic jolt behind his navel, then it was the feeling like he was being thrown into a tornado, and he had to close his eyes, gripping his case tightly so as to avoid losing it. Moments later, the three men were standing outside a pair of wrought iron gates.
Or at least, two of them were standing, Credence, like many first timers, stumbled and fell to the ground, breathless.
"Are you alright?" Newt was quick to help him up. "Don't worry," he assured him, "everyone stumbles the first time."
"I think you did rather well, Credence," Dumbledore assured him as he approached the gates. "I actually vomited the first time I used a portkey."
"I thought you said you vomited the first time you apparated?" Newt queried.
"Both, I'm afraid," Dumbledore answered casually. "Unfortunately, I've never been good with motion sickness. Ah," he called out. "Professor Imamu!"
Newt looked up to see an African woman in rich robes of patterned blue fabric approaching the gates.
"Hello, Professor Dumbledore," the woman greeted as she opened the gates with a flick of her hand. "You are right on time."
"Professor Imamu," Dumbledore did the introductions, "may I introduce Newt Scamander, and Credence Barebone. Gentlemen, this is our newest faculty member: Professor Batini Imamu. She arrived from Africa earlier this year to become our new defence against the dark arts teacher."
"Welcome Credence," the woman smiled warmly to the younger man, wrapping her arms around him in a hug, which was a pleasant surprise to Credence. "And welcome back Mr Scamander. I've heard much about you." She gestured to his case. "Do you have a nundu in there?"
"Yes," Newt answered, stammering slightly.
Professor Imamu smiled.
"There was a family group of nundu that lived near my village when I was growing up," she explained. "Since coming to England, I admit, I have missed my homeland very much. If you could spare the time, I would love to see your nundu, and it's living area."
"Certainly," Newt said eagerly. "And if you have any ideas on improving the habitat, please tell me. I want my creatures to be as comfortable as possible."
"Thank you. I'd be happy to help you in your knowledge where I can. Now," she gestured to the school. "Shall we?"
As they walked up the path, it wasn't until they crested a small hill that Credence got his first view of the castle, and he felt his jaw drop.
"Welcome to Hogwarts, Credence," Newt smiled.
~..~..~..~..
As Professor Dumbledore and Professor Imamu led the pair through the castle, Newt couldn't help the feeling of nostalgia, as the memories of his school days flooded past him, and he eagerly acted as tour guide for an attentive Credence, pointing out the corridor that would lead to the kitchens and the Hufflepuff common room. Further on, saying if Credence went up another hallway, he'd reach the charms classroom. "And I remember, in my fourth year," Newt was saying as they walked, "finding a secret storage room on the corridor just down that way," he pointed as they passed. "I used to keep a small menagerie in that room, but had to clear them all out when I got expelled."
Being the Christmas break, most of the students were gone for the holidays and the halls were empty as they made their way through the castle. Credence couldn't stop gaping and was startled several times by a painting or suit of armour moving unexpectedly.
"You have truly lived away from the wizarding world your whole life?" Dumbledore asked curiously, seeming very interested in their unique guest.
Credence took his gaze from the Grey Lady, who was drifting demurely past to focus his attention on the Hogwarts professor.
"Yes Sir," Credence answered quietly.
"So, if you don't mind me asking," Dumbledore prodded gently, "how is it you came to learn you were a wizard, if you never received a letter for school?"
Credence ducked his head, and Newt quickly turned to study his young friend's face.
"You don't have to answer if you're not comfortable," Newt told him.
"I'm so sorry," Dumbledore was quick to apologise. "Have I overstepped?"
"No, it's okay," Credence spoke up. "My Ma," he answered Dumbledore's question. "She adopted me… to 'save me from an unnatural upbringing', she told me." Credence swallowed and ducked his head as everyone stopped in shock at his words. "She was the head of the 'New Salem Philanthropic Society' in New York," he explained to the two professors. "And when I started showing signs of being different… of doing anything she disapproved of, I would be disciplined. She said she thought she could stop me from becoming wicked…because she said I was born wicked."
A pregnant pause filled the hall and Dumbledore brought a hand to his mouth, blinking rapidly.
"Credence, listen to me carefully," Newt stepped forward to grip the younger man's shoulder. "You are not wicked. You never have been. And now that you've escaped America, you can live a new life. One where you make the choices, not your mother."
"But if I can't be taught…" Fear once again filled Credence's voice and Newt was quick to cut him off.
"And that's why we're here," he reminded him. "So that you can learn to control your magic, as you were always meant to."
"This way, then," Professor Dumbledore led them down the corridor at a brisk pace, eager to reach the headmaster's office.
But as far as Dumbledore was concerned, this boy was going to be schooled whether professor Dippet conceded or not.
~..~..~..~..
The Headmaster's office was large and circular, and Newt felt that it hadn't changed much, as he looked around the room. The portraits of previous headmasters still adorned the walls, and as Professor Dippet came from behind his desk, he suddenly felt as he did when he was fifteen, and about to be reprimanded for setting another creature loose in the castle.
"Batini, Albus, thank you," Professor Dippet acknowledged then in greeting. "Newt, welcome back."
"Thank you, Sir," Newt greeted, a little uncomfortable. After all, the last time he spoke to Professor Dippet was regarding his expulsion.
"I heard you and your creatures caused quite a stir in New York," Dippet continued, eying Newt carefully.
"Everything got sorted," Newt was quick to assure him. "Nothing to worry about."
Credence tried to breathe deeply as Professor Dippet turned his eyes on him. The man was much older than Professor Dumbledore, his hair a pale white and receding heavily and his blue eyes, though appearing tired, fell on him kindly.
This was the man who would decide if he could be accepted here, Credence knew, and he was anxious to make a good impression.
"And this must be the young man himself," Dippet finished.
"Credence Barebone," Credence held out his hand in greeting, swallowing nervously. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir."
Credence practically sighed with relief as Professor Dippet accepted his hand.
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Credence," Professor Dippet replied. "And I'm sorry for whatever you've been through that has caused you to feel the need to repress your magic. I must confess, I know very little about obscurials," he continued, "but we will help you however we can."
It appeared to take a moment for Dippet's words to register in Credence's mind.
"You mean, you'll teach me?" He stammered, hardly daring to believe it. Could he have been accepted so easily?
"Well, therein lies the rub," Professor Dippet frowned slightly. "You are unprecedented, Credence." He frowned slightly, studying Credence's face. "How old are you?" He asked curiously.
"Twenty-five," Credence answered softly, and Newt raised his eyebrows in surprise. He was a little older than Newt had guessed. Although, he considered, Credence's immense shyness did give the impression of a much younger person. And while he may always be shy, perhaps, with time, and some guidance, Credence will come out of his shell.
"Extraordinary," Dippet mused. "Never has there ever been record of an obscurial older than ten."
Dumbledore lowered his gaze, appearing almost guiltily, though no one appeared to notice, for all other eyes were on Credence.
"The obscurus within you may have changed how your magic is triggered, how it's channelled," Professor Dippet continued. "And as, from what I hear, you seem to have control over it, perhaps now, the only way you may be able to tap into your magic is through your obscurus. You may not even be able to use a wand, we have no idea."
"What are you saying?" Credence, asked, fear filling his voice again.
"What we're saying, Credence," Professor Imamu spoke up, gently, "is that we need to find out how your magic is different, if at all, and how you channel your power. If we can identify those things, then we can teach you ways for you to harness your magic."
"We are actually very fortunate to have Professor Imamu with us," Dumbledore spoke up quickly. "The wizards of Africa specialise in wandless magic. Batini doesn't even own a wand."
"A wand is used to help focus, direct and magnify a wizard's power," Professor Imamu explained to Credence. "As powerful as you are, Credence, there is a high chance you will not need one. So, professor Dumbledore and I will be your primary instructors here, and as you have never used a wand, yet still have some control, I will be teaching you in wandless magic. If it is discovered that a wand would be more helpful, you will be provided one."
"But first, we have to discover how his magic works," Professor Dippet reminded them.
"No," Professor Imamu countered, studying Credence carefully. "First, it is Credence who must understand how his magic works. Only then can he learn to truly control it." She clapped her hands twice solemnly before pressing them together in front of her.
"Let's move to an empty classroom," she suggested. "Time for your first lesson."
"Wait," Newt told them all, spotting something in the corner of the room. "There's something else we have to do for Credence first."
Newt walked over and carefully took the Sorting Hat down from its pedestal.
"No one, can be a student at Hogwarts without being sorted into a house," Newt stated firmly.
"Oh, of course," Dumbledore agreed with a smile.
"Is that really necessary?" Professor Dippet asked with a sigh.
"Yes, it is," Newt answered. He believed that for Credence to feel comfortable with himself, he needed to truly feel he was accepted, that he was a truly a part of the wizarding world. And for most of the wizarding community in Britain, that meant going to Hogwarts. Even now, Newt proudly wore his Hufflepuff scarf, and still, a common question when meeting a wizard was: 'what Hogwarts house were you in?'
Now, Credence could be a part of all of that.
"Even I was sorted into a house when I arrived here," Professor Imamu reminded Professor Dippet.
"Really? What house did you get?" Newt queried.
"Ravenclaw," Batini gestured to her blue robes proudly.
"Now, Credence," Newt stood before his young friend, who couldn't take his eyes off the hat in his hands, "do you remember me telling you about this?"
"The sorting hat," Credence nodded. "It belonged to Godric Griffindor himself. And Salazar Slytherin enchanted it so that it could sort students into houses, seeing where they would best belong."
"Very good," Newt smiled proudly. "And can you remember the four houses and their qualities?"
"Hufflepuff," Credence began, glancing at Newt's scarf. "It's the house for people who are hard-working, fair minded and loyal. Ravenclaw, is for people who are intelligent, quick witted and insightful. Griffindor: for people who are brave, chivalrous and daring. And Slytherin: for people who are ambitious, resourceful and cunning."
"Well remembered," Newt congratulated.
"But I don't know if I'm any of those things," Credence admitted.
"Everyone belongs somewhere, Credence," Newt assured him. "Now, shall we see where the sorting hat puts you?"
Nodding eagerly, Credence allowed Newt to place the sorting hat over his head.
Everyone in the room waited with baited breath…
"Slytherin!" The sorting hat announced grandly, and Credence removed the hat from his head as everyone clapped.
"Congratulations," Newt smiled, and his initial surprise at the sorting choice faded away as he began to think of what he knew of Credence: For an obscurus as powerful as him to survive for so long, they would need a highly focused mind, a strong will, as well as a strong sense of survival. Credence had also tried to enter the wizarding world by helping the man he thought to be Percival Graves, knowing that it was going against his adoptive mother's wishes, her beliefs and everything he'd been raised to believe, growing up with the Second Salemers. And as 'Graves' had asked for a child, Credence had tried to satisfy that request, while in full knowledge that he was, in fact, the obscurial, in order to gain acceptance from 'Graves' to enter the wizarding world and learn magic.
Ambition, resourcefulness and cunning.
"Yes," Newt nodded as he returned the sorting hat to Professor Dippet. "Slytherin seems the perfect house for you, Credence."
~..~..~..~..
Leaving professor Dippet in his study, the group moved to an empty classroom in a disused part of the school, to avoid being disturbed. Newt sat down at an old desk, his case at his feet, looking forward to observing the coming lesson, while Credence stood before Professors Imamu and Dumbledore, ready and hungry to learn.
"To perform wandless magic, you need more than just the incantation in your mind." Professor Batini Imamu began. "Magic, in essence is about using your emotions to tap into your power, and using your mind to direct your magic to change your reality at will." She nodded to Professor Dumbledore, who sent a jinx flying towards her. Professor Imamu simply raised a hand and sent the spell flying sideways into the wall, where it left a singed mark.
"What emotion do you think I used?" The woman asked, turning her dark eyes to Credence.
"Fear?" He guessed. "Fear of being hit?"
"A logical guess," Professor Imamu granted with a nod. "But no, not quite. The reason, when we are children, that our magic erupts from us when we are angry or afraid, is because those emotions are not simply powerful, but erratic." She explained. "Purely based on survival and usually devoid of logic, the magic is released but has no true direction, and so lashes at any and all within reach. It's a survival mechanism," she concluded. "It's how our magic first came to be. It was the edge we had, over predators, and non-magical people, in ancient times."
"So, we use magic through emotion?" Credence wondered.
"Magic has its root in our emotions, this is true," Professor Imamu impressed on Credence, "but without our mentality to guide our emotions, to direct our magic, the magic will, in turn, become uncontrollable. So, to control your magic, you must control your emotions. But suppression and control are too very different things." She met Credence's eyes seriously, but with compassion.
"When have you found you are most likely to lose control of the obscurus within you?" Professor Imaru asked.
"When I'm scared or angry," Credence admitted. "I always end up hurting people."
"Which makes you more afraid of your power," the woman's voice was sympathetic as Credence nodded. "Which makes you try to supress it further," she continued, "which makes your magic burst out more ferociously as it seeks an outlet. It's a terrible cycle."
Credence lowered his eyes, nodding. Does this mean they weren't going to teach him? Did they see him as too uncontrollable?
"Still, we must start somewhere," Professor Imamu became more business- like as she took her place in the centre of the room. "Your magic bursts forth when you are angry or afraid, so we will use that as a starting point. Then, as we continue to control and direct your emotions in a more constructive way, your obscurus will, hopefully, be drained away as your magic will no longer be supressed but have a proper outlet."
Credence's head shot up and Newt smiled as his eyes darted between Dumbledore and Imamu.
"You mean, you're going to teach me?" He asked, as if barely able to believe it.
"Of course, haven't we already said as much?" Professor Imamu smiled at Credence's shock. "But you should know, Credence: what we are doing is unprecedented. There has been no known record of an obscurial reaching schooling age, let alone adulthood. What we are doing is entirely experimental. But if you are willing to work," she told him, gesturing to everyone in the room, "I think I can speak for all of us, when I say: we are willing to teach you."
Credence felt himself shaking with relief.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"To start off with, perhaps Credence could come here for lessons maybe four nights a week?" Dumbledore suggested. "And, apart from us, Credence can also learn a lot about the magical natural world, by continuing to help Newt with his creatures?"
"Absolutely," Newt agreed. "Credence has been doing well with them so far, and I've enjoyed having the help." He turned to the young man in question.
"If you have no objection, Credence?"
Credence gazed in shock at these people who had agreed to help him. All, for seemingly no other reason than, they wanted to help him.
"When do we start?" He asked, gratitude seeming to emanate from him in waves.
"Right now, if you wish," Dumbledore smiled as Credence nodded eagerly.
"Alright," Professor Imamu nodded, her mind racing to find a good place to start from. "We must build on what you have already…" She encouraged Credence to stand in front of her. "Your obscurus, comes forth when you are trying to defend yourself, yes?"
Credence nodded.
"Have you been able to call on your obscurus in any other circumstance?" Imamu pressed.
"I've never tried to," Credence admitted.
"Very well," Professor Imamu nodded. "Then we'll start by teaching you a protection spell. And you were raised as a muggle," she added pensively, "so you would be less familiar with deflecting magic." Looking around, she gestured to a wooden stool near the old blackboard.
"Albus, could you-"
"Certainly." Dumbledore raised his wand, and the chair rose of the ground to hover by his side.
"Now Credence," Batini came to stand beside him. "The incantation for a basic shield spell is 'protego'."
"Protego,' he repeated.
"Yes," Imamu nodded, "so feel free to use that, whether out loud, or in your mind, to help focus the intent behind your magic. Now, your emotions will automatically help activate your magic, as you feel you must protect yourself. The trick is ensuring your mind is focused on the result that you want to achieve, and you use your body, through gestures, to direct where you want your magic to go."
Nodding to Dumbledore, he sent the chair flying in her direction.
Raising her hands defensively, palms out, professor Imamu muttered a "protego" for emphasis and the chair hit, what appeared to be, a bubble of magic that appeared around herself and Credence, before falling at their feet.
Marvelling, Credence cautiously reached out a hand, trying to find the protective bubble. But while his hand touched only air, he could feel an almost tingling sensation flit across his skin.
"The shield has done its work, and is now no longer needed," Professor Imamu explained.
"But you see?" She continued. "Your emotions activate your magic," she repeated, placing a hand on her heart. "Your mind focuses your intent," she touched her forehead. "Your body directs it," she made a shield motion with her hands.
"Now, it's your turn," she invited and Professor Dumbledore recalled the chair to him.
"Are you ready Credence?" He asked.
Credence nodded, steeling himself.
"I'm right here beside you, Credence," Batini assured him. "Just focus your mind."
"Come on, Credence," Newt encouraged.
Credence met Professor Dumbledore's gaze as he tried to feel the magic within him. He could feel the obscurus swirling in his chest and felt a flash of fear.
What if he killed everyone in here? He wondered before screwing his eyes shut.
'No,' he told his obscurus as much as himself. He was here, he was at Hogwarts School, he was at his first real lesson on magic. He would do this right.
He opened his eyes just as Dumbledore sent the chair flying towards him.
Reflexively, Credence flinched, closing his eyes once more. But he remembered to raise his hands, and as he did, he felt a rush, like a strong breeze, move through him, leaving his palms tingling.
But he felt no impact from the chair.
He also didn't hear any wood falling to the ground.
Oh, God, he hadn't hurt anyone, had he?
Cautiously, Credence opened his eyes to find he still had his hands raised defensively in front of him. Straightening up, he looked around to see the other three were all staring at the floor, slightly stunned.
Credence looked down to see nothing more than a pile of blackened sawdust on the ground before him.
"A reducto curse," Dumbledore observed. "Interesting."
"Not the shield charm we'd intended," Professor Imamu granted with a nod, "but effective, nonetheless."
"And you were in control Credence," Newt spoke up, breathing a small sigh of relief. "Look," he gestured around the room. "No obscurus. You called the magic to protect you in that one instance, and it followed you to the letter. If, in a slightly unintended way," he granted, gesturing to the pile of sawdust on the floor.
"Well done Credence," Professor Imamu praised him. "For your very first attempt, that was very impressive."
"Was that the first time you'd done magic without the obscurus appearing completely?" Dumbledore asked eagerly.
"Yes," Credence nodded, slightly stunned. He raised his eyes to his three teachers and finally felt a feeling of confidence building in his chest. "I can do this," he mumbled.
Newt smiled. "I think this deserves a round of applause," he announced before clapping his hands together, Albus and Batini quickly following suit.
Credence smiled, unused to the praise, but for the first time in his life, he felt his long-held fear recede slightly in his mind.
He was in the wizarding world. He was at Hogwarts. He was being taught magic.
And he'd proven he could control it.
~..~..~..~..
Tina headed into MACUSA early the next day, feeling a little light-headed. Her sister was helping a nomaj baker regain his memory of magic so they could start a new life together in England. Credence, the poor boy she had tried to protect from the beatings of his cruel mother, as well as the manipulation of the most evil wizard alive today, only to seemingly fail due to the order of Madam Piquery and the actions of her fellow aurors, has been discovered, by some miracle, to be alive and well, now far out of reach of the American laws that could once again order his death.
And Newt Scamander had written, saying he wanted her to come to England to see him…
"Goldstein!"
Tina turned to see another Auror, Charles Bennet, approaching her urgently.
"All aurors to the major investigation department," he informed her. "We're all to be at the briefing."
"What briefing?" Tina asked, hurrying to catch up.
"Don't know," Charles called over his shoulder, and soon, the pair were in the elevator and climbing.
Upon exiting, Tina was surprised to see the room so full. Aurors of all ranks were present, and Tina had just reached a seat when Madam Piquery entered and a hush fell over the room.
"Thank you all for coming at such short notice," the president began. "I have an important announcement to make. Rest assured, it is good news, especially after recent events."
Everyone cast curious glances around the room, but stayed quiet, waiting for the president to continue.
"Thanks to the use of veritiserum, Grindlewald has given us some highly valuable information, not all of which can be divulged at this time. However," she continued, "while Grindlewald did indeed use transfiguration to impersonate our Auror Head, Percival Graves, he informed us that he kept him alive, in order to question him on his background and habits so as to better impersonate him."
A ripple went through the hall, and Tina sat up straighter in her chair.
"Now, I'm delighted to inform everyone," Madan Piquery began to smile, "that at five fifteen this morning, Percival Graves has been found alive, having been hidden in a secret location for the past six months, and is currently seeing healers to aid him in his recovery. We hope that someday soon, he will be well enough to re-join our team."
Cheering and applause broke out at the news, and Tina felt herself smile in relief, before turning into a frown.
Grindlewald had been impersonating Percival Graves for six months? She couldn't imagine what the real Graves has been enduring throughout his abduction…
The aurors began to disperse back to their work, talking in relief and excitement that their superior was alive and well.
Or maybe, not so well, Tina thought.
"Madam Piquery," Tina called, getting to her feet.
"Auror Goldstein?" The president paused in acknowledgement.
"How is Mr Graves doing?" She asked in concern. "I imagine being abducted for six months would have no small effect."
Madam Piquery sighed, considering.
"He will need time to recover," she conceded carefully. "And I plan for him to take some time off before returning to work, even though he said he was ready to start interrogating Grindlewald himself, straight away." She smiled at the man's determination and Tina couldn't help admiring the gumption as well.
"However, he will also need time to catch up on current events," Madam Piquery added, resting her eyes on Tina. "And, as you were one of the people that led us to the capture of Grindlewald, and so led to Graves' rescue, he has requested an audience with you."
"What?" Tina asked slowly.
"I think it would be a good idea," Madam Piquery continued. "After all, you worked under Graves for a long time, and you can give a first-hand account of the events leading up to Grindlewald's capture, able to answer any questions Graves has." She looked at Tina pointedly. "There are a few areas that still need clearing up."
Tina gulped, suddenly feeling like, rather than helping Mr Graves recover, she was being asked to give a testimony.
"I'll do my best to help where I can, Madam President," Tina said evenly.
~..~..~..~..
Jacob had just opened his bakery for the day, when he saw the beautiful blonde, Queenie, waving delightedly to him from outside his store front window.
Smiling broadly, Jacob beckoned her inside. He still couldn't understand why a bombshell like her would want to spend time with him, but the baker had quickly realised that her smile definitely made his heart beat faster.
And he still couldn't help the feeling that he knew her from somewhere, he racked his brain as the beautiful woman entered his shop and he felt his breath leave him as she smiled at him.
He'd dreamed about her again last night. He'd dreamt they'd been eating dinner at a square table, and while Jacob had felt there had been others in the room, his eyes could only focus on Queenie. She had prepared the meal, and Jacob was complimenting her on her cooking.
"Oh, you slay me," Queenie had smiled before resting her chin on her hand. "I've never really talked to a nomaj before." Her gaze was adoring, curious, and Jacob could have stared into those eyes forever.
And now she was here, in the flesh, walking into his bakery with that same, radiant smile from his dream.
"Hello Jacob, honey," Queenie greeted fondly.
"Hi, Queenie, great to see you," Jacob smiled, feeling a little flustered as he walked around the counter to greet his new favourite customer. "How are you?"
"Great, thanks," she answered breathlessly. "How are you?"
"Fantastic," Jacob smiled and it was only then he realised that she'd been calling him by his first name. He cast his mind back to the previous day, and while she'd initially greeted him as 'Mr Kowalski,' Jacob realised he had never actually told her his first name.
Yet he was sure Queenie had called him 'Jacob' yesterday.
"Yeah, I know," Queenie began, lowering her eyes, a little guilty. "I should have just stuck with calling you 'Mr Kowalski', 'cause that's the name of your bakery, but I couldn't help it." She smiled shyly. "I like calling you Jacob," she admitted.
"Don't get me wrong," he assured her quickly, "I love it."
Wait. What? He paused, as he went over what was just said. How had she known what he was thinking?
Jacob suddenly saw Queenie in his mind again, sitting across from him at the dinner table.
"Could you stop reading my mind for a second, please?" He asked her, and Queenie lowered her eyes guiltily.
"Don't get me wrong," he assured her quickly, "I love it." And Queenie giggled in relief.
Breathing quickly, Jacob eyed the woman standing in front of him in wonder.
'No', he thought, 'it's got to be my imagination running away with me.'
But Queenie bit her lip, seeming to be wrestling with something in her mind.
"No," she told him quietly. "It's not your imagination, Jacob."
Jacob stared, his heart beginning to pound.
'No..'
Swallowing, Queenie nodded, biting her lip nervously again.
"Yeah," she whispered, raising her eyes apprehensively.
Jacob simply stared in wonder, thankful it was still early, so there were no customers yet.
"I do know you from somewhere," he realised. "Don't I?"
"Yeah," Queenie smiled in relief as she nodded again. "But you forgot."
"How?" Jacob asked. "How could I forget someone like you?"
"Long story," Queenie told him. "But don't worry, Jacob," she assured him, cupping his face with her hand. "I promise, I'll help you remember."
Leaning forward, she kissed him gently.
As their lips touched, Jacob remembered the feeling of rain…
Flashes, like a movie reel, began playing in his mind:
A man offering him a small, snakelike bird…
"Your occamy," he explained and Jacob heard his name in his mind.
Newt.
"I know I'm not dreaming," Jacob's eyes travelled over the extraordinary environment he was in. "I ain't got the brains to make this up."
Queenie took step back, her eyes wide as she regarded Jacob in shock. He was blinking rapidly as more scenes played in his mind.
"…they'll obliviate you in a heartbeat." Newt was saying.
"What does 'bliviate mean?" Jacob asked.
"It means you'll wake up," Newt explained. "And all memory of magic is gone."
"Queenie," Jacob's voice was shaky as he stared, his eyes far away as he focused inward.
"Yes," the blond encouraged, nodding.
"Newt," Jacob stammered as he began to shake.
"That's right," Queenie said softly, stroking his face to reassure him.
Jacob was at the dinner table again, sitting opposite Queenie. This time he was aware that Newt was sitting on his right, and a dark-haired woman, Tina, sat on his left.
Queenie straightened up primly, glancing at her sister.
"I am not flirting," she stated.
Tina looked apologetic.
"Just don't go getting attached, is all," she said gently. "He's gonna have to be obliviated." She turned to Jacob. "It's nothing personal," she assured him.
"Tina," Jacob breathed.
"Very good, honey," Queenie's heart was racing, now.
Stepping back in shock, Jacob's mind reeled before his gaze fell on his creature pastries.
"Dougal," Jacob muttered, reaching out to the demiguse shaped pastry.
Queenie began to smile as Jacob continued to turn, his eyes searching.
"The niffler," Jacob exclaimed, examining the pastry he'd made, seeing the little scamp in his mind, running around a jewellery store as Newt tried to wrangle him.
Then, his eyes landed on the erumpent shaped pastries and he simply burst out laughing at the memory of watching Newt doing a strange mating dance…
"Oh, Jacob, honey," Queenie felt the man becoming overwhelmed as he stood there, hands coming to his mouth as he gazed around he shop with changed eyes before coming to rest on her.
"I remember," the baker mumbled, and his eyes widened as he remembered the case filled with those strange, silver eggshells.
'A well-wisher' the note had been signed.
Newt helped him get his bakery, he realised.
Queenie began to giggle with happiness before her laughter suddenly faded when she realised what she'd just done, and the consequences of it.
"Oh, this happened a lot faster than I thought it would," she whispered.
~..~..~..~..
Author's note: So, what do you think?
I'm really curious to see Dumbledore in this timeline. In the books, Dumbledore is approximately one hundred and fifty years old, so, we're assuming he'd be maybe in his early fifties or so, but still, only about a third of the way through his life. He is still just a transfiguration teacher, and not yet the wise, old Headmaster we've come to know in the Harry Potter Universe.
Dumbledore is often described as having a 'twinkle in his eye' and has proven on more than one occasion to have a bit of an 'up yours' attitude towards the law if he feels it is unjustified, such as when he escapes arrest in 'Order of the Phoenix' when confronted by Umbridge and Fudge.
As such, I felt a younger Dumbledore, while knowledgeable and highly skilled, wouldn't yet have the same level of perception and wisdom we've become familiar with him having. He's a bit cheeky and cock-sure (he's a Griffindor, after all) and I wanted him to develop his wisdom and understanding throughout this story.
Enter my new character: Batini Imamu:
(Batini means 'inner voice' and Imamu means 'Spiritual leader' in Swahili- got it off the internet, so don't know how accurate it is, but- it sounded like a good name for the one to teach Credence how to control his magic.)
I read on Pottermore, that wizards in Africa are among the most powerful the world, and are the only nation that never uses wands in their schooling. Wandless magic is said to be the most difficult to master, and considering how powerful Credence is, I thought he would need someone of equal strength, with a deeper understanding of magic, to guide him through his own journey, along with Dumbledore and Newt.
Then I began to wonder: how does magic actually work? How did magic begin in human history? How did it evolve?
I could go on for pages regarding the theories in my head, but I tried to keep professor Imamu's lesson clear and simple, as well as realistic. But I'll try to give more detail, as succinctly as possible, here:
We know that wizarding children often use magic when they're angry or scared, such as when Harry found himself on a school roof top after being chased by Dudley.
Why would magic be so attached, and so triggered, by these emotions? My theory is that, as we humans evolved, it was often these emotions that helped us survive, by either driving us to continue, or alerting us to danger. I could imagine that magic evolved first as a survival mechanism to help the earliest wizards escape danger or to protect themselves and those they loved. This form of magic, fuelled by pure emotion, is what I believe is known as 'ancient' or 'old' magic, as described in the stories. Such as the protection spell Lily gave Harry, when she gave her life to protect her son.
This ancient magic, I believe, would be the most powerful form of magic. And that's why the most powerful spells, appear to be fueled by emotion, such as the Patronus charm, which needs a powerful, happy memory in order to be created.
As Credence has repressed himself in more ways than just his magic, I believe that not only giving his magic an outlet, but becoming more accepting of his emotions, and giving them a chance to develop, will also help him improve his ability to overcome his obscurus.
I could keep on going, but I think I've summed my idea up as best as I can.
Now, as to the sorting…
I see Newt perhaps not being a 'teacher' to Credence, so much as a 'mentor', helping him to accept who he is and teaching him more about how to be a good person, as opposed to simply a good magician. Being a Hufflepuff, Newt understands the value of acceptance, and he'll understand Credence's need to fell accepted, like he belongs somewhere.
And, as he said- no one can go to Hogwarts without being sorted. Newt understands that knowing you belong to a house at the school is the first experience most students have, and the first step in giving themselves an identity at the school. Wanting Credence to have the same experience, to feel like he belongs, I was sure Newt would insist on Credence being given a house, despite him being past schooling age.
I was at a bit of a loss as to what house Credence would be in, until I began looking at his actions throughout 'Fantastic Beasts.' His ambition to try to enter the wizarding world, despite going against his mother, and everything she stood for (and, presumably, everything he'd been raised to stand for also) made me think he had distinctly Slytherin qualities, and so that's why I placed him in that house.
I think part of me also wanted to have a 'nice' Slytherin portrayed in the stories for a change. I know three people who are Slytherins (I'm a Ravenclaw myself) and they are among the kindest people I know. Unafraid to put someone in their place, if needed, they'll often go above and beyond to help someone, simply because they love the challenge of finding all the different ways possible to achieve a goal. I think, once you have truly gained the trust and friendship of a Slytherin, they will actually be a fiercely loyal friend: happy to overcome any obstacle, by any means necessary, to help you out.
But I also believe, that while a Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw may forgive, or move on, if their trust is broken, if you back-stab a Slytherin, you'll get one hell of a backlash.
And considering Credence was trying to help 'Grindle-Graves' find an obscurial child, so that he could join the wizarding world, then attacked ferociously once 'Graves' dismissed him…
Yeah, I think Credence would be a Slytherin.
Now, for Percival Graves himself…
I know the popular theory is that Grindlewald used Polyjuice potion to impersonate Graves, but as we never see him drink anything throughout the movie, I doubt that was actually the case. Besides, I don't think a simple 'revelio' spell would remove the effects of Polyjuice potion. Dumbledore and Harry had to wait for Barty Crouch Jnr to transform back to normal at the end of book four. Surely, if a simple 'revelio' would have done the job, Dumbledore would have done it?
So, I figured transfiguration was Grindlewald's chosen method. As powerful as he is, it would have been easy. However, I doubt you'd need the person alive to do so, and I really wanted Graves to still be alive (I love Colin Farrell, and hope he comes back in the sequel). So, I felt, to really impersonate someone for a long period of time without arousing suspicion, he would need to know the person he's impersonating very thoroughly. So, I figured Grindlewad would want Graves alive to question him.
As for Jacob…
I confess, I wanted Jacob to get his memory back as soon as possible. And, as Queenie's kiss was possibly the last thing he experienced before his memory was wiped, I felt it would be fitting to have her kiss be the key to returning his memory.
'True love's kiss will break any curse,' after all.
And as, I believe, emotionally powered magic is the strongest of all, I thought it was the most likely scenario.
But now, Queenie and Jacob are in the position of having thoroughly broken the International Statute of Secrecy, as well as the American law regarding relationships with non-wizarding people…
Okay, I think that explains my theories surrounding the main events presented in this chapter. I hope they helped to clarify why these events occurred.
Please leave a review, telling me what you think. I'm happy to answer any questions you have.
Thanks for reading,
Celino.
