Oblivious
Written for the Character Of The Month event
Prompt: Credence Barebone
Shadows fell across his face, a sense of urgency building in his chest as he ducked into the alley. He saw Percival Graves, waiting, as he always did, with the same slew of questions he always asked.
"Have you any news?" Graves queried, and Credence clenched his fists at his sides.
"I can't," said Credence, frustration boiling over as he lifted his head and made eye contact with the older wizard. "Mr. Graves, do you have any idea who or what you're talking to?"
Graves looked at him with a blank stare. Then slowly a wide grin spread across his face.
Of course he knew who he was talking to. Credence was a squib, plain and simple. But that didn't mean the boy couldn't be useful in his search for the Obscurial.
"My boy, I believe you are holding on to a wealth of information," Graves crooned, keeping his persuasive tone as pleasant as possible.
"You don't know the half of it," said Credence, his eyes flashing dangerously.
"Now, when last we spoke, the Obscurus had been sighted in the vicinity of the bank," Graves continued, ignoring the warning signs that were all around him. "I witnessed a dark mass heading west. Perhaps it was returning to its place of origin."
Unable to tolerate this ceaseless rambling, Credence shuddered violently, dissolving into smoke just as Graves turned to the west, searching the skies for any sign of the wayward Obscurus.
"It frequently travels the same path," said Graves, lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun. A black, billowing cloud somersaulted across his field of vision, and the wizard opened his umbrella. "Looks like a storm is on the way," he muttered.
The Obscurus, furious at being ignored, slashed at the umbrella and turned it inside out, the force of its tantrum knocking Graves off his feet.
Startled by this sudden upheaval, Graves dropped his umbrella and gasped, the wind whipping his coat in all directions.
"Credence!" he called out suddenly. "I don't think your mother would want you outside in a storm like this."
The roar of the wind was getting stronger, and Graves was unable to stand. Crawling across the ground, he managed to grab onto a street lamp, clinging to it as a pair of overturned trash cans were sent hurtling through the nearest building.
"I really need to pay closer attention to the weather report." Graves was silenced a moment later when a flying newspaper struck him in the face.
The Obscurus gave one last bellowing roar before returning to its host, the Obscurial turning and walking down the street.
"Forget it," Credence said sadly, not bothering to look back. "No one ever listens to me anyway."