I fear that most of the Niffler's fans were devoured by the Obscurus named "******mas Planning." Here's to the lucky few survivors. ;)

Previous Chapter

He jumped and cowered against Tina when a loud BANG! erupted in the room and a dark shape furled out with a billowing cloak. Tina launched to her feet and Credence imagined Graves and Mother all at once, while Jacob stood in front of him as though a No-Maj could impede anything that could hurt a wizard.

"Merlin's beard, put down your wands."

Tina sobbed and Credence clued into the fatigued, gravelly voice.

"Theseus," Tina choked, running towards him. "Tell me you – "

Her voice faded into an anguished plea.

"No….."

Shivering in the dark room, Newt shrank against his brother and stared ahead with muted eyes. His filthy coat swamped him, more grey than blue, and his knees clocked together when Tina raised a hand.

"Newt?" she whispered. Inching forward, she brushed a hand against his hair, sweeping it from his eyes.

He flinched.

Credence lurched to his feet.

Fresh tracks gleamed on Tina's cheeks as she fidgeted uncertainly, finally folding her hands without a word. Theseus waved her aside as he maneuvered Newt into a lumpy chair.

"It's the shock. It'll pass; sooner than you think." He then beckoned for Tina, gesturing for her to sit across from Newt, nestling tremulous hands between her own. "I've looked after him for years, Porpentina. He's stronger than he looks."

Such lies weren't even kind.

Credence wouldn't listen to any more.

"Y-You're lying!" he choked, dragging one foot forward and clenching his fists. He concentrated within, feeling the anger curl into black flames. He only had to look at Newt – bedraggled, shivering, too crushed to save himself from the stomping heel – and he channeled himself with more vehemence than he had ever felt against Graves.

He would crush this one, and he would never repent.

Theseus' hand casually fell to his robes. He watched Credence dispassionately, refusing to cower.

It took an awkward cough from Jacob for Credence to realize nothing was happening. He choked, thrusting out his fingers, willing himself to dissipate into wrath.

The floor didn't even tremble.

"Credence, I think you need to sit down," Jacob said quietly.

Looking over his shoulder, Credence paled. Queenie hovered close to Jacob, forefinger pressed anxiously beneath her lip, the gold handle of a wand gleaming in her lowered hand. He swiveled to face Tina. Poised in front of Newt, hand on his shoulder, pleading and protecting and trusting that Credence wouldn't do it again – wouldn't hurt, wouldn't kill, wouldn't expose them all.

Wouldn't thrust Newt into Azkaban all over again.

Credence hunched into himself. Hands limp at his sides, fury spent. Theseus stalked past him, a brush of cold dismissal, and Credence kept his eyes lowered.

After all, he was the motive for Newt's arrest in the first place.

He was the reason Theseus' brother had almost died.

Wearily he plopped back into the chair and hoped they would forget him.

He watched Newt out of the corner of his eye. Green flurried past as Queenie rushed to kneel beside the mousey wizard, mute tears reiterating whatever hurt she seemed to be reading in his expression. Credence clawed his hands into his hair, remembering a snarling kitten defending him from a serpent, and he wondered if this was how Modesty would spend the rest of her childhood.

Forlorn, distant eyes that flickered, lingering in fear whenever a shadow moved. Shallow breaths exasperated by gravelly coughs. Unsteady hands clutching a brown stick, as if a child was playing at magical beasts and needed a bowtruckle.

"Take these."

Credence was forced out of his thoughts as Theseus thrust a black folder at Jacob. "Letters of clemency, and enough galleons for you to settle comfortably in London. The Ministry has agreed: we need peacekeepers between Muggles and Wizards, and you were the first to perceive magic in America and not be Obliviated. We need your advocacy at this time."

"Whoah, wait a second," Jacob said, eyeing the folder as though it was a decomposing tripe. "I'm not staying in London. Newt goes into exile, we go with him. That was the agreement."

"The offer is for you and Miss Goldstein," Theseus said with some frustration. "You've been offered a chance to influence the world, Mister Kowalski. Europe is only the beginning. Soon every continent will be aware that magic exists, and unless we can convince muggles that wizards can only bring good, then war shall destroy us all."

"Only good?" Jacob daringly raised one eyebrow. "You mean to say Azkaban's a good thing? 'Cause I can name any American prison that wouldn't bring a man that low."

Something indiscernible darkened Theseus' eyes. "It was not my choice, Mister Kowalski."

"Sure." Jacob nodded curtly. "He's only your little brother. I got that impression from MACUSA already."

Theseus' hand clenched and Credence cringed into himself, certain the wizard would strike Jacob with the folder. With forced control, Theseus set the papers beside Jacob.

"This is your one chance," he said, turning away. "But there will be more who see his fate, if we do not find peace. The muggles easily turn on their own. How many more of us will be locked into their cruelty?" He looked at Credence, and for an instant there might have been compassion in his stern expression. "There will be more children in hiding, if the muggles should rise against us. More unreliable magic that will only cause them to hate us more. It will be like the ancient days, save for the ingenuity in their killing machines."

He spat the word and Queenie's horrified gaze lanced away from Newt, as though she was discerning far more in Theseus' words. "We have spells," she said in a small voice. "We could protect ourselves."

"From machine guns, yeah," Jacob said edgily. "Bombs and poisonous gases, too? How well protected was Hogwarts from the Obscurus?" He glanced back apologetically at Credence and sighed.

"This doesn't have to end in war," Tina spoke up. "Theseus. There has to be another way."

The wizard only bowed his head. Faintly Credence heard the whisper. "I couldn't even protect him."

Grave silence followed his admission. Tina squeezed her eyes shut, gripping Newt's chapped fingers. Queenie and Jacob looked at one another in that strange, unspoken way, and slowly Queenie nodded.

"Tina, he's right."

"What?" Tina exclaimed.

"We can't hide forever," Queenie said, avoiding her sister's eyes. "Sooner or later they'll track us down. They'll find you… and…." She breathed deeply, face set. "I can't protect you in Australia. You'll have to go on alone."

"Queenie, we said we'd stick together!" Tina said, rising to her feet. "No matter what happens – "

"I know what I said," Queenie said jarringly. "Tina, don't make this harder. Jacob and I will be of more help to you here. We'll – we'll work with the No-Maj's; build a safer community. Sooner or later MACUSA will have to admit they were wrong. They'll have to welcome you back."

"Did he tell you this?" Tina accused, glaring at Theseus.

"I offered a solution," Theseus denounced. "The choice is yours."

"Tina." Queenie pattered forward and took her sister's hands. "We can't make Newt hide forever. This is the best for him. For all of us. We'll force the Ministry to reconsider."

"Does this mean we're staying in London?" Jacob said uneasily, beginning to flip through the papers.

"Only if you think it's best," Queenie rushed to add.

Flapping the portfolio against his hand, Jacob considered. His gaze diverted to the bowed, mousey wizard, then to Queenie. He glanced sidelong at Credence, back to Queenie, and then he nodded.

"Yeah, I guess she's right. We're all wanted criminals, anyways. If two of us can clear the path for the rest… well, maybe that's where we're needed most." His confidence soothed even Theseus' restless strides. "This isn't forever, Tina."

Closing her eyes, Tina exhaled slowly and murmured, "I know."

"It's settled then," Theseus declared. "We cannot delay any longer. The Ministry has eyes everywhere, and Azkaban will be missing its prisoner."

Newt's head snapped up at the word, and Credence wished he was still dangerous.

"Tina, we'll see you as far as the boat," Queenie assured. She grabbed the suitcase and handed it to Jacob, looping "Ruby's" purse over Tina's wrist. "Just in case you need anything…"

Her smile broke. Gritting her teeth, she gripped her sister fiercely. Credence looked away. He'd heard every note of sorrow in Modesty's voice when her brother turned into her nightmare.

The foreignness of two siblings parting in love was cruelly acknowledged.

Theseus swept up the papers and swept past him, clapping a hand around Newt's shoulder. The younger didn't respond. Tina and Queenie's arms were linked as the one took Credence, the other Jacob.

Dust-laden walls vanished around them, and Credence wondered idly if this would be the last time he flew.

He remembered how his magic, however destructive, had once been beautiful.

"Newt'll love Australia," Jacob said with false cheer. "I've heard stories. People say it's full of untamable beasts."

"The stories are not untrue," Theseus muttered.

The docks were cold and flecked with sea spray. Credence leaned over the lapping, grey oblivion and breathed deeply. He could almost see himself in the water, fathomless and powerful, concealing his magic from everyone he feared most.

But that was before, and now the ocean was infinitely more powerful than he would ever become.

"Do they have to take the long route?" Jacob wondered. "Can't we use another portkey?"

Theseus rolled his eyes. "Do you realize how difficult those are to obtain? No." He shook his head. "Any form of magic can be traced back to its wielder. A simpleton could track them down." He snatched up Newt's suitcase, cautiously approaching the scrawny figure leaning against a pole.

"Newt." When no answer camecame , Theseus set the suitcase by his brother's feet. He gently gripped the younger's arm. "Look after yourself."

His eyes searched Tina's, and the young witch nodded. "We'll be fine," she whispered.

"I can't give him his wand," Theseus said as he rejoined her. "I've taken too many chances. If he's arrested again, he won't stand trial."

"I understand." Tina's voice cracked as she slowly withdrew her own and laid it in Theseus' hand. "Keep it with his, until this is over." She cut off his objection. "It's my exile, too, Theseus. I promised him that he wouldn't be alone."

Theseus opened his mouth, hesitated, and then clasped her hand. "You may be the only kindness he's ever seen, Porpentina. I could not trust anyone else with my brother."

She flushed at the praise.

Glancing at Credence, Theseus beckoned him forward. Scuffed black shoes grated on the docks. Head ducked, awaiting a rebuke, Credence halted just shy of a slap's reach. He waited for the strike.

"You're the only one who will take care of him," Theseus said to Tina. "Heaven knows, Newt deserves you."

A horn blared, thrumming and curdling as a subway train pulsing underground. Credence clapped his hands over his ears.

"You must leave now," Theseus said, urgency replacing his somber admiration. He pulled Newt away from the dock's edge, shoving the suitcase into his hand.

"Come on, Tina," Queenie said, leading her to the platform. She paused at the ramp and flung her arms around her sister. "I can't send owls. You'll write to me the No-Maj way, won't you? Credence can show you how. Jacob's already gotten me my own set of stationary. We'll keep in touch."

"Every day!" Tina gushed, clinging tightly.

Regret leaded Credence's footsteps, and he was the only one who lingered far enough behind to witness the sudden jagged, terrified plea as Theseus clutched Newt in a fierce embrace.

"Don't force me to watch your execution," the elder whispered.

He let go just as quickly, pushing Newt onto the ramp. Tina took the mousey wizard's arm, and for an instant clarity to returned as Newt searched for his brother.

Nostalgia. Longing. A scared younger sibling asking if he would ever see the other again.

Deliberately Theseus braced his shoulders and walked away.

Hazel eyes shuttered into blankness.

"Hurry, Credence," Queenie insisted, brushing him forward. He followed woodenly. It was over so quickly. Happiness had knit these people together, and now everything was broken glass.

"Oh no…." Sincerity eased Queenie's voice as she stroked his cheek. "Credence, Newt did it for you. We all wanted to help you." She looked down with a bittersweet smile. "We Goldsteins stick together, you know. Every one of us." She touched his face again, warm and accepting and understanding, though he had never spoken a word. "It's okay, 's what family is for."

"I hate to break up the party, but he's gotta go," Jacob said gently. He plucked off his hat and nestled it on Credence's head. "It's not over, Kid."

Not over.

Perplexed, Credence turned the words over in his mind as his hand closed over the ship's railing. As the dock grew smaller. As Tina waved and brushed away tears until she could only peer into the distance in hopes that maybe she would see something over the next wave. As grey waters streamed into deep blue touched by the sun.

Not over.

What did he mean?

The war with the ministry….? The wizards hunting us….? The last time we'll see them….? My magic….?

A soft-spoken, sensible part in his mind told him that something profound had been said, but Credence couldn't make it out. Everything was jumbled in his head these days.

So he did what he knew best. He sat on the bow, knees drawn in, head bowed, and rocked. Gently to and fro, timing it with the ship's waves. It felt peaceful, and somehow sad. Like he was back to the beginning again.

All thoughts, peaceful or otherwise, were rudely discorded as Newt startled back into himself and lunged, spewing bile over the ship's railing. Credence jumped and Tina said something that made a posh lady clap her hand over her breast.

"Newt! Oh, on top of everything…." She rubbed the wizard's back, wincing every time Newt dry-heaved. There wasn't much to lose, but his face was ashen and strained.

"Downstairs," Tina ordered, slipping the suitcase from his lax fingers. She looked back insistently. "Credence, help me."

Dazed, Credence did as he was told. He followed her down the steps, feeling oddly like he had done this exactly so before.

Back when it was a serpent and a mouse.

Back when he was only the victim, and not the monster.

"Can I come over there?"

Credence felt like he was the one asking this time, but Newt would never accept. Who could soothe the comforter? Surely not the one who had betrayed him?

He should have stayed behind, locked in MACUSA's cell. Tina was the only one worthy of Newt, just like Theseus said.

The cabin Tina led them to was cramped and dim. The floor lurched as much as it did above, and Newt was soon wracked again, coughing between heaves. Tina groaned.

"You had to give him your wand," she berated herself."

Carefully Credence set the suitcase on the bed.

"We need to get him inside without losing the creatures," Tina said. "Can you manage that?"

Panicked, Credence froze. They couldn't trust him in there. Not yet. He hadn't proved himself. He hadn't followed the rules. He was dangerous.

"Credence?" Tina pleaded as Newt convulsed into shivers.

Rapidly he flipped the bolts.

"Come on, Newt." Tina hushed, leading him to the suitcase. "You'll feel better inside. It's okay. No one's going to hurt your creatures. Credence is here. No one's been Obliviated."

She kept up the litany of unrelated reassurances, guiding Newt so that he wouldn't miss a rung on the ladder, keeping him in sight until he was securely entrenched in his own world. She didn't follow straight away, but beckoned for Credence to enter next. He faltered.

Tina sighed. "I don't have time to argue. Please, Credence. Don't make me beg."

The thought lashed more cruelly than a belt across his palm. Nodding jerkily, Credence lowered himself inside. He heard the suitcase close as Tina entered behind him.

Newt hovered in the entrance, face turned to the sun, eyelids flickering as though caught up in a turbulent dream. Credence wondered what his nightmare was – the memory of Azkaban, or fear that he would wake up and discover that his freedom was the illusion.

Tina tiptoed closer and brushed his shoulder. "Newt?"

When there was no response, she drew him onto the grass and sat him down. "They're all here, Newt. Your creatures. They're safe."

Edgily Credence sat a short distance away. Glazed, hazel eyes roved unseeingly over the flourishing plains and the beasts which romped closer as they recognized a familiar face. Sighing, Newt closed his eyes. His head dropped and rose, fell again, until Tina pulled his shoulders into her lap, settling his right hand into the spongy grass.

"It's all here, Newt," she murmured, combing long tangles out of his face. "You're home."

The only sign that he might have heard was the stilling of his eyelids as he fell asleep. Sobbing quietly, Tina bent over the threadbare coat and gripped his other hand. "What are we doing here, Newt? What have I done?"

Credence knew he had overstayed.

He slipped away unnoticed, as lowly and unwanted as the beetles and their dung. He strayed further, hiding himself away, until he settled close to the cabin, beneath the picture of a dark-haired woman. She looked nothing like Tina, with Chastity's insensitive eyes and secretive grin, but in that, perhaps, she and Credence were not so unalike. They were both unworthy.

He wrapped himself in such gloomy thoughts until nightfall.

His dreams were full of black flames and Newt's empty, lifeless eyes.

The dawn was still laced with stars when Credence snapped away, sensing a presence. He gasped. Why was still in bed at this hour? Mother would be displeased for his slothfulness, and Chastity would simper as….

But they were both dead.

Rolling over, Credence braced himself. An upraised hand, a kind word, a coarse holler, a whisper of hope… he didn't know what to expect anymore.

So he flinched expectantly, waiting for good or evil to catch him in the dark.

The onlooker startled just as violently. A coat collar fluttered in the wind.

Credence winced and then curled upright, tucking his arms around his legs. Hoping there would be a censure; someone else rebuking his acrimonious heart.

He was so tired of kind lies.

Newt swayed in the early cobalt light, left knee quaking. Unsteady, inept. Looking for Credence.

Credence's mouth went dry. He felt wretched; afraid; shaking without need. Would the wizard ask for a belt? Would he finally resort to punishment, now that Credence had done the unforgiveable?

"I'm sorry," Credence garbled. Tried to make it sound genuine, but he could only weep. "I didn't mean to."

He braced himself, holding out his hands. He could count the scars; every failure etched in a white line.

He hoped this one would cut deeper than all the rest.

Shuddering a sigh, Newt crouched beside him. Credence focused on his hands, just like Mother had taught him. Ready to count each strike.

Wriggling, warm fur puddled into his palms. Credence gasped, instinctively grabbing before the creature could fall out of his hands. Fear-stricken eyes looked to Newt.

What do you expect me to do?

Newt's eyes crinkled. "Don't let 'im run off," he rasped.

The niffler scrambled, already rebelling against its caretaker, and Credence clutched it to his chest. He stared, disbelieving, searching hazel eyes for the lie.

The faintest, hardiest smile tugged at the corner of Newt's mouth. He heaved himself to his feet, dispirited, wounded, yet somehow reassuring in the same inconspicuous, unassuming manner of the courageous mouse.

And Credence could find none.

Instead there was a sense of empathy that he had never seen before. Protectiveness for a creature who had the same bad habits as a niffler addicted to coins. In such a light, Credence saw the bequest he had always begged for, and never earned.

Forgiveness.

He bowed his head, and heard cloth rustle before a tender hand mussed his hair.

"You'll always be welcome here," Newt whispered.

Then Credence finally knew for certain.

He had nothing to offer. No Obscurus. No magic. He had cost Newt everything. And yet somehow – in some stupid, senseless form of affirmation – Newt had reached out and taken him under his wing.

Perhaps he, too, was a lost creature. Perhaps that had been Newt's objective all along.

Trust quelled Mother's voice in his mind, along with his doubts.

"This isn't over, Kid," Jacob had said.

Finally he understood. Whatever his lot, he wasn't wholly condemned. His choices remained.

And Credence knew that, even though he had jeopardized Newt's future and his own, this was a gift that would not be taken away.

He didn't need a family to soothe his tears and teach him magic. He didn't need to have control.

He already belonged.

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End

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Whew! That is over! Done! Concluded! Not to be continued! Consider it "complete."

Soooo, what happens to the wizarding world? Does the Magical Realm come to terms with the No-Maj's? Can muggles accept wizards and their magic and live in semi-harmony? Will Newt, Tina, and Credence finally be welcome in their home countr(ies)?

I'm not going to give you an answer on this one.

Dun dun dun.

The truth is, this story was originally going to have a fluffy ending - something along the lines of Newt and Credence staying at Hogwarts, Queenie and Jacob co-owning a bakery/tailor shop, and Tina advocating Wizards and Muggles United or something like that. Reality busted my plot, because life just doesn't work out that way, despite all the peace/love/harmony expressions that spread good feelings and prettily wrapped lies. Point is, choices in life have consequences. But there is always another chance. Always.

The final conclusion of this story is your playground, depending on how you think events could play out. Can wizards and muggles unite peacefully, without concerns over the fairness of special abilities vs. ordinary folk? If you have any thoughts, let me know in the comments. I'm always interested in hearing different perspectives.

(And yes, you can still feed this story to an Obscurus. It has mangling-worthy material, methinks.)