I'm happy with the beginning.
I'm not as happy with the middle.
I'm happy with the end.

The day of a writer.

I'm sorry that I take so long to update, but that's just how I write.
I just hope I get the Christmas chapter done in time for December. It's getting cold over here, which really puts me in the mood of writing :)
(NaNoWriMo 2018 is coming up though, which may or may not cause a problem depending if I decide to write the PJO fic I was planning...)

And I didn't forget Graves is a Director rather than a Minister, and have written it all over the previous chapters! *cough cough* You can't prove that...!

When he woke up Percival Graves had completely forgotten about the previous night's ordeal. So you can imagine his surprise when he tried stretching in a yawn and realising that something was restraining his arm.

His eyes flew open in alarm, though he immediately calmed down again as he looked down and recognized the top of a familiar bowl cut resting against him.

The boy was, remarkably, still sound asleep.

It was still early in the morning and the curtains were thick, but there was enough light for the Director to tell that Credence had moved closer to him during the night. He was practically laying flush against him, his cheek mushed up against his chest; smelling faintly of bathing soap.

Last night…

The appearance of the Obscurus…

It was hard to believe that someone sleeping so peacefully in his arms held such a dark, corrupt manifestation of magic inside of them.

He shifted a little to get comfortable, and had another surprise. If he wasn't mistaken there were a pair of small feet nestled underneath his pyjama shirt to meet the bare skin of his stomach. Obviously to steal some warmth.

It was a miracle how those had gotten there without waking him up. (Not that anyone besides his siblings knew he was ticklish.) He'd have to get the boy some socks if it was cold though. And slippers perhaps.

Slippers would surely be nice in the mornings.

He looked at his alarm clock and saw that he had about twenty minutes before it went off.

Apparently he was supposed to 'sleep in' the days he wasn't working. He hadn't done that since he was a teenager with the exception of long holidays (though he rarely got to actually go on vacation for those anyway) and he wasn't planning to start either.

But today he didn't think he would mind staying in bed for a little longer. With a flick of his hand the alarm clock was temporarily disabled.

As he laid there waiting for Credence to wake up he thought about Iggy. This time a day she would already have had collected the day's newspaper from the corner store - where she would pick up on some gossip from the other house-elves of New York - to then sharpen his shaving knifes and prepare hot towels, iron his clothes and polish his cufflinks and other silver accessories. Then she's start on the breakfast while he prepared himself in the bathroom.

Since it was a Saturday she'd make something special. Bacon muffins with poached eggs, grit porridge with butter or Belgian waffles with powdered sugar... Whatever it was there was always fruit on the side depending on the season.

He nodded ever so subtly against the pillow.

Yes.

That's how she would have liked him to remember her by: Her diligent servitude. Not her tragic and abrupt end.

At least he hoped it had been abrupt, rather than-

Stop it Percival!, he scolded himself with a curt sigh.

Suddenly someone whined.

That someone was Credence.

At first Credence's eyes scrunched up into a frown at the rude disruption of his head-rest, but soon he was blinking to try and orient himself. As he moved around, stretching and whining gently, Graves noticed that the boy had something on his cheek. It took him a second to realize it was an imprint from one of his shirt buttons.

He scoffed.

"Good morning", he said. He kept his voiced hushed to not rouse the child too much.

Credence sleepily rubbed the salt crust out of his eyes. He yawned, then sluggishly opened his eyes to meet the wizards'.

There they froze and processed what he was seeing.

And suddenly Credence was very awake.

His eyes darted around, confirming that he was inside a bedroom that wasn't the one he had been shown last night, and he quickly sat up getting some space in between them.

"M-mr Grav-!" He started, but gulped and corrected himself to:"Percival". Which was quite the feat for first thing in the morning.

"Credence...", the Director dittoed. Though his tone was nowhere as riled up.

"Did… did I fall asleep here?", Credence wondered looking around again.

The wizard shook his head.

"No, you fell asleep in the office. I carried you in here. I wanted to make sure you slept well", he said answering the unsaid question.

He then furrowed his brow in pretend concern as he prompted himself up on one elbow.
"Because you did sleep well, right?"

Credence blushed, but nodded.

"Good", Graves said and patted him on the head, silencing any more questions.

"I'm going to take a shower. You can stay in bed if you want to, then we'll have breakfast when I'm done", Graves said.

"How's that?"

Credence nodded again, then hesitantly laid down beneath the still-warm covers.

When Graves emerged from the bathroom again the boy was tangled up in the duvet, fast asleep again. He looked even smaller in the bed, surrounded by all that bedding. And very cute.

As much as it pained him to disturb his sleep again he gently shook the boy awake and ushered him to his room to get dressed. Meanwhile he went into the kitchen to start preparing the food; a chore he wasn't very used to doing.

He used his wand along with plenty of Accio spells to bring out the frying pan, toaster and a pot for porridge along with the food from the ice box and cabinets. He did all this from a comfortable position by the table while skimming through the morning headlines.

(The paper had arrived via the fireplace.)

Credence soon joined him, wearing a clean button up and the vest from yesterday and they started cooking together.

Or rather: Credence kept watch over the toaster while the Director did everything else. The boy wasn't able to do much else, but the small contribution was very welcomed in the otherwise empty and quiet kitchen.

And there were other things that brought a completely different joy to the task.

The voice tentatively calling for his attention when the bread turned brown on one side and were ready to be flipped.

The small expectation in the brown eyes when the Wizard turned, waved his wand and the pieces of bread obediently flipped themselves.

The hands eager to help pouring juice.

It was unfamiliar, but pleasant.

While they ate Graves tried to explain different headlines Credence kept glancing at. Like, why there was an astronomy forecast. And, why bowtruckles would be defensive of their Christmas trees. And more importantly: What was a bowtruckle.

While he talked Credence reached for his glass and brought it to his lips, being very careful to support the weight of it with his little hands.

He sipped it.

Then promptly spat it back out.

This, as you can imagine, caused some scrambling around the table in search for a napkin.

"Mr Percival…", he had said very quietly.

"Yes, my boy?", Graves had said as he wiped off the orange liquid from the boy's chin.

"I think your juice has expired..."

Graves furrowed his brow and waved for the bottle, which floated to his hand, then turned it over to look at the print. It furrowed deeper at this and he had unscrewed it and smelled it. Then he had tasted it just to be sure.

"I can't find anything wrong with this...", he said.

Credence didn't protest. But he didn't look convinced either.

"Give it another try", the Director said.

Credence glanced at the glass, then back at the man. Perhaps contemplating what sort of society he had been brought into where people drank spoiled juice.

"Go on. I'll get you some milk if you still don't like it."

Being too timid to put up a fuss Credence complied. He sipped it again and held it in his mouth for a moment. He frowned at first, then, to Graves' slight relief, the little eyebrows lifted in surprise rather than to contort in disgust.

He swallowed and said:
"This tastes like pumpkin pie!"

"I'd hope it does", the wizard nodded and glanced at the bottle. It did say pumpkin juice, didn't it?

"Do you like pumpkin pie?", he wondered.

Credence nodded.

"We'd buy a slice sometimes during Thanksgiving at the café by the station." Then he sipped his juice again.

The Director had no idea which café he was referring to.

What he did know was that he'd had to remember to order more juice.

They finished up without further disruption and this time Credence was allowed to watch the entire animated clean-up of the kitchen, which he seemed very content with doing. When it was done and the last plate was tucked back into the cabinet Graves grabbed the newspaper then waved for Credence to follow.

"Come, let me show you how floo powder works."

He started off easy, composing a brief letter to his tailor concerning when they would be able to perform a measuring.

"Watch", he said and took down the container from the mantelpiece.

It had the shape of an urn with a pattern of silver birch trees. Small snowflakes fleeted between them as the season demanded. He didn't use it often, as he prefered apparition over the floo network for short distances. For all the reports and memos he sent back and forth to the office the mantelpiece was enchanted to drop a small amount of floo powder when the pieces of paper was sent into it. Their designated destination being the mail room on MACUSA.

He opened the lid, took a pinch of green powder and threw it into the fire, which immediately blazed with green tinted flames.

Credence looked on in wonder on a safe distance behind the wizard's legs.

"I'm going to throw in the letter, then say the destination. After that we'll just have to wait for a reply."

Credence looked at the fire. His brow creasing slightly.

"But won't it burn?", he asked.

"No. It's magic fire", the man assured as he combed his fingers through the boy's hair.

"Excellent question though", he noted.

"You ready?"

Credence nodded.

The wizard threw in the letter and said, clearly:
"The Nimble Thimble, New York City." And with a light crack the letter went up in smoke. The fire turned orange again.

The boy walked up to the fireplace and peered into the flame, as if he could tell letter-ashes from normal ashes.

"Is it gone?"

"Yes, dear boy. Now, careful...", Percival chuckled nervously as he reeled the boy back a few feet by pulling the back of his vest; as his bangs were every close to singeing. - And he did not want to know what Goldstien would do if he let that happen. -

The reply soon came fluttering out of the fireplace. It read that the two were very welcomed later that day if it suited them.

"What do you say about that, Credence? Mind going out for a bit? We could have lunch out."

The boy hadn't objected. Graves sent a reply that they gladly accepted the offer.

They arrived to the tailor almost an hour later.

Who would have thought anyone would be reluctant when you told them to walk into a fire!

Graves had thought his demonstration with the paper was plenty enough to show that it was perfectly safe for humans to travel via the floo network.

It had taken a great deal of coaxing to convince Credence. He had protested. He had even held onto the couch! The wizard had insisted and Credence had frowned and for a while Graves had been worried he'd end up making the boy cry.

But, eventually, Credence let himself be picked up and carried into the green flames.

Graves took the safety measure to cover Credence in a heat repelling charm, just in case he'd start panicking inside the chimney. He didn't want to imagine what an upset obscurial would be like while travelling.

When he stepped out on the cobblestones of the shopping street the boy had his arms wrapped around his neck so tightly that he almost had trouble breathing. Still, it went excellent for a first time trip.

"Look Credence", the wizard had said. A pair of brown eyes had delicately looked up from hiding in the fabric of his scarf.

"We survived."

Credence turned his head and gasped gently.

Not from the fact that they survived but at the sight of the few shops across from the floo station.

He probably hadn't seen anything like it in his entire life.

Blending antique wizarding architecture and modern New York boutiques the line of shops were something on their own right. Some sported large windows showing up the goods for the Holidays shoppers while others were just as dark and gloomy as they had been two hundred years ago. All with varying degrees of Christmas spirit.

The domestic craft store's window was lined with spruce adorned with colorful christmas balls and tiny bells. The display shelf was filled with gift boxes with embroidered pillows, home knitted socks, mittens and scarfs, potted plants and small toys, all covered in small bows and decorative snow. Everything in a colorscheme of red, white, green and brown with little snowmen and reindeer running around the patterns and prints.

The apothecary on the other hand only sported a lone, dried up mistletoe in the window. Which was impressive compared to their usual decoration standards.

Credence took all of this in with a look of perplexity. Then he sneezed.

"Bless you", Graves said as he moved away from the floo station. Then, after making sure they were out of the way of the arrivals, he set the boy down and made him blow his nose from any lingering soot or ash.

Then he took the boy by the hand and headed towards the Nimble Thimble.

The underground passage was moderately crowded with wizards and witches doing their holiday shopping. They carried boxes and shopping bags, some being daring enough to have them levitating behind them (as much as a hazard that could prove to be). Some had even brought their house-elves along to carry everything for them, judging by the towers of boxes trailing behind certain witches.

This didn't bring down their pace too much though, and Credence had plenty of time to see more of the stores they passed by.

Eventually they did reach the steps outside the Nimble Thimble and Graves pushed open the door to enter the warm and comfortable studio (because even though it was underground and constantly smelled of cinder from the floo station the temperature still managed to be a bit chilly (just like how there were snow piling up against the house walls even though it didn't make sense for snow to fall there)).

It didn't take long before a: "Graves!", was called from within the shop. Soon an older wizard came out from the atelier Graves knew to lie within.

The wizard was thin and with long limbs (which is just a nicer way of saying he was lanky), and Graves had always thought him as agile for his age. Today he wore a dark green shirt underneath a maroon vest. On his elbow sat a strap-on pin cushion that he had either forgotten to remove or proved that he had been busy working just now. His white hair was, as every time Graves had seen him, kept back in a low ponytail.
He was also one of the few wizards of his generation Graves knew to keep his beard trimmed short. He had been told that it was because long beards was such a hassle to keep out of the needle work.

On his nose rested a pair of gold rimmed glasses. They had monocle like watchglasses on either side of the frames he used for tiny details when he worked.

"Needle." Graves moved Credence over to his left hand so that he could give the tailor a proper handshake.

"We didn't expect you here again so soon, Graves", the tailor said.

"You make it sound like you don't want me here", Graves chuckled.

"As if you're not going to give me a large order to get ready before the holidays", Needle tutted in fake annoyance.

"Because you have brought a new customer for us, yes?", Needle inquired and curiously followed the length of Graves' coat, where Credence was quietly regarding both adults.

"Yes, Credence here is in need of some clothes", Graves said.
"Aren't you, Credence?"

To his surprise the boy didn't answer. Instead he retreated behind Graves' leg where his long coat hid him from view.

"Shy is he?", Needle asked, though not unkindly.

"Yes...", Graves replied, though slightly unsure. Having known the boy for such a short amount of time he couldn't tell if the boy was merely shy or bothered in another way.

He rubbed a circle with his thumb atop Credence' hand.

Needle must have heard the uncertainty in his client's voice because he quickly assured:
"I doubt it'll be a problem. Mauve's the one who'll pin him, she's great with kids."

Graves knew Mauve. She was the co-owner of the studio. However, he had never had any direct involvement with her other than being asked on the opinion of the embroidery design of his family crest.

She worked more with details and usually sat in the back with some kind of handwork in her lap; it being anything from embroidery, to lacework or an arrangement of decorative crystals. He was pretty sure she was the one behind most of the designs shown in the formal robes collection.

He supposed children's clothing also required that sort of attention to fine detail.

"Let's get to it shall we?", the tailor suggested.

The two were ushered to a pair of sofas around a coffee table further into the studio. Mauve soon joined them, bringing with her some patterns and design mags to look at.

She was a short witch with long dark grey hair and big lively eyes. She wore a traditional long sleeved witch robe, and looking closely Graves noticed that the hems of her wide sleeves were lined with an assortment of pins. How she managed to move around without piercing herself was beyond him.

Perhaps some kind of anti-pricking spell.

Credence must have noticed this too because he cautiously leaned away from the witch when she sat down next to them. Still, she seemed to make him more curious than scared; which was always a good thing.

This was always the Director's favorite part; next to actually wearing the finished clothes. With Needle one could tweak and combine any number of designs to your will. The shape of a collar, a specific detail on the hemline, the arrangement of the buttons. It was pick and choose. The only limit being what Needle still deemed to be fashionable.

Mauve wasn't very different. She was just more pushy when it came to what materials they should use.

Doing the same for Credence opened a whole new world of fashion.

For example, he didn't know how irresistible tiny sailor uniforms were before he saw a whole page filled with them.

Credence of course was allowed an opinion in all of it; but he seemed more interested in the fact that the designs were moving - with miniature boys and girls running and dancing around across the page - than in the actual designs and sat quietly in the Director's lap.

Eventually they decided on a few outfits and color combinations that would match Graves' own wardrobe so that people understood they were a pair, but not straightly ripped of the adult's clothes that Credence merely looked like a mini Director.

Most of it was everyday clothes, but they included some outerwear and playclothes, as Mauve described them. That it was 'important for growing children to be able to run around without worrying about ruining their clothes'. Or, being scolded for it at least.

Then it was time for the actual measuring.

Credence was made to stand on top of a tall, cushioned footstool in the middle of the fitting area while Mauve took his measurements with a few animated measuring tapes. Graves remained within eyeshot by the sofas while Needle tried talking him into doing 'a quick fitting' for a new formal robe that would be perfect for MACUSA's New Year's Eve party.

He admitted he was tempted but he politely declined. This was Credence's fitting. And Needle had been right, Mauve was great with kids. The boy stood completely still, although relaxed, while letting the witch pin different pieces of fabric together on his arms and waist with flying pins and measuring tapes directed by her wand. She talked to him about what and how she was going to make his clothes, and praised him for his patience (making him stand a little straighter every time), and how he was going to be the most well dressed boy in all of New York City.

"I think you should go buy this darling some bonbons for being such a good boy", Mauve said as the two put on their coats. Credence immediately leaned back into the protection of Graves' long coat; his blushing face showing between the drapes of black fabric. Though there was no mistake about the small smile on his face.

Obviously in a much better mood than when they arrived.

"That does sound like a good idea", the wizard mused.

With a flick of his hand, as if yanking a string, his checkbook came out of his inner pocket.

"Now, let's put a number on this so we can go have some lunch."

"Certainly, sir."

She got out a notebook she and Needle had made notes in earlier.

"Is everything in order?"

The Director quickly checked off the items. It was a long list concerning dress shirts, vests, shorts, slacks, cotton pyjamas, rompers among many other things. He had also made sure to add a few more handkerchiefs since they seemed to be working through clean ones at a much brisker pace than before.

He nodded and returned the book.

The witch' quill wrote down a few numbers, then summed them up at the bottom of the page.

"And it runs up to six hundred and forty seven Dragots and thirty two Sprinks. And should be ready for delivery on Wednesday after Christmas...", she read out loud.

"But I'm sure I can get at least two outfits ready before Christmas so he has something nice to wear for the holiday", she said and winked at the two of them.

"That would be greatly appreciated, ma'am", the Director said.

He wrote down the necessary numbers and signatures on the check. He then tore it out, handed it to the witch, exchanged some pleasantries about the upcoming holiday; then took Credence by the hand and walked out onto the busy underground shopping street.

He hadn't walked far before Credence tugged gently at his hand.

"Mr Percival?"

"Yes, my boy?"

"How much is a dragon?"

"You mean a dragot?"

The boy nodded.

He had to think for a moment. The no-maj currency was a funny thing. They were constantly investing, their stock market constantly on the rise. The dollar changed from one thing in the morning and to another in the evening most days.

And the no-majs celebrated it for some reason.

He clicked his tongue.

"Well, it's about... four dollars I think…"

And then he couldn't walk any further. Because Credence had dug his heels into the cobblestones and was holding the wizard's arm back.

Graves looked back in confusion.

Credence little mouth was hanging open.

"F-four dollars?!"

Passerby witches and wizards glanced their way at the loud shriek of the no-maj currency. The Director sent an apologetic smile in their general direction, then turned back to the boy.

"T-that means… you spent almost th-three thousand dollars!"

The Director must say, how Credence managed to calculate that in such a short notice was remarkable. Though he didn't actually say that.

"Yeah, that sounds about right", the wizard nodded again.

Credence' cheek suddenly turned pink. He looked back and forth between the man and the ground.

"Mr Percival… I-I don't want you to spent that much money on me…"

The Director wasn't stupid. He was fully aware that he had just spent a lot of money. Money someone with Credence' class background might not deem to be suited for clothes shopping.

Still, he wasn't going to let Credence refuse a proper wardrobe.

"Think of it like this...", the wizard said, trying to be reasonable,"It's expensive because it's good quality", he told him.

"We've bought enough to last you 'til summer, and then you'll probably just need a couple of polos and shorts."

"And besides Tina would put me on the stake if I got you anything but the best."

The corners of Credence' lips tugged momentarily in the shape of a smile at the exaggeration (and Graves sent the witch a fond thought). But it was only for a moment, because then he frowned.

"But I probably won't be able to pay you back...", he said meekly.

"And I'm not asking you to", the Director said and stroked Credence's little hand with his thumb.

Credence looked back in the direction of The Nimble Thimble, as if trying to come up with another argument to go cancel at least parts of the order. Though he must have come up empty handed because he didn't resist when the Director resumed towing him down the street.

"And just so you know, Credence", he added as a side note.
"If I report the cost to MACUSA they'll cover the expenses anyway. So it's not even my money." Then he winked at the boy.

They walked to a nice restaurant and got a table for two. Graves ordered the chicken dish from the lunch menu for both of them. Credence, being the orderly boy he was, put his napkin in his lap and watched how the silverware and food was brought in. When they had eaten Graves ordered a cup of coffee and the waiter even gave Credence a biscuit.

The Director paid the bill then the two left again and headed south.

"Where are we going now?", Credence wondered.

"Are you getting tired?"
Graves wasn't sure how much children were allowed to walk before you were considered a bad caregiver.

The boy shook his head.

"No, I was just wondering..."

"Is there anything you'd like before we leave?", the wizard asked.

The boy shook his head in an urgent no.

"Then we only have one last stop at the confection store, then I was thinking we'd go home."

It took a moment for Credence to catch the meaning of that.

"But Mr Percival, I don't need any candy...", Credence said.

"Credence", Graves said, actually starting to get slightly tired of his protests. "You needed clothes, now I think you need a treat."

Credence didn't protest further, but his steps did become more trudgey.

It was easy to spot the confection boutique, The caramel crystal. He could smell it before he saw it. Crystallized sugars and chocolate. It would make his mouth water if he hadn't eaten just now.

The shop window was equally as promising. Though it was a little hard to tell with all the children and couples flocking in front of it.

"Mommy, mommy please…!"

"Not today dear."

"Should we take a look?"

"Look at that one! How do you think they made it?"

"Oh, I wish I could taste it..."

Credence, counter his previous reluctance, started craning his neck to see; though he was far too short to actually distinguish anything apart from colors shining through the gaps between the wizards and witches.

Graves didn't linger by the window though. After all, they weren't there to window-shop.

A bell pinged as he pushed open the door and he was immediately hit by an even stronger - but luckily not overwhelming - smell of sweets. Being less than a week before Christmas on a weekend the store was quite filled with wizards and witches strolling between the shelves.

Quite a few standing in line for the self-assemble pralin-box station.

A great number of wizarding children surrounded a stand showcasing something called Chocolate Frog Cards.

The Director had never seen them before in his life, though he wasn't surprised, considering there was a small, but glowing, arrow on top of it saying:"Brand new!" that changed to "Start your collection today!"

What you were supposed to collect was a bit unclear.

Next to his leg Credence stood with his mouth hanging open.

"Welcome sir", the witch behind the cashier beamed as the two of them came inside and stomped off some snow on the rug in front of the door.

"Thank you, ma'am", the Director greeted back as he moved away from the door to let a wizard carrying a pile of wrapped boxes exit.

"And hello darling", she added when Credence continued to stare, wide eyed at the shelves upon shelves of homemade candies and confections. Though he quickly snapped out of his daze and shut his mouth at her words and tentatively clung closer to Graves' long coat.

The witch chuckled warmly.

"First time here?", she asked the wizard, giving the child a nod.

He confirmed this with a nod.

"Are you here to stock up for the Holidays, or perhaps to get a gift?", she wondered.

He shook his head.

"No. Just a little reward for this one", he replied and let his hand pat Credence's bowl cut.

The witch smiled. Then, giving Credence a bewildered look, said:
"Well, what are you waiting for, love? Go have a look." As she flicked her head inwards the shop with a smirk on her lips.

The boy looked up at Graves, obviously asking for permission. His big brown eyes so large and unknowingly pleading.

"Go on, my boy", Graves said and sent him off with a gentle push.

Credence didn't need anymore encouragement. He went straight to the nearest shelf, stood on his tippy toes and started reading the different labels.

It took awhile for Credence to go through the whole boutique - and for Graves to explain that the Sugared Butterfly Wings were, in fact, made out of actual butterflies while the chocolate frogs (supposedly) weren't made of actual frogs - but eventually he settled on a box of marzipans shaped in various winter motives. The wizard added a package of pumpkin pastries to have something to eat at home before dinner.

When Percival went to pay the witch behind the cashier waved her wand and a little paper bag tied with a bow from the shelf behind her floated down to stand on the counter. It said Chocolate covered nuts.

Having a weakness for everything containing peanuts he picked up the neat little bag to read the table of contents. And he was pleased.

"How much will it be?", he asked returning it to the counter while he reached for his wallet.

"Thirty sprinks, sir", she replied.

His brow furrowed slightly.

"But that can't be right…", he said as he ran through the numbers in his head. It was the exact same as before he had joined to line to pay.

"Oh, this one is on the boutique, sir", she said and patted the package of nuts.

"As a first-time customer", she explained.

"It isn't my first time though, ma'am", he told her having bought a gift for his sister there the year before.

"But it is his." She nodded at Credence who was eyeing this new bag of treats.

"I can still pay for it, ma'am", he tried one last time.

"See it as a gesture in the spirit of Christmas", she had said firmly.

And so the Director of Magical Security left The Caramell Crystal; one hand holding a shopping bag while the other was busy steering Credence towards the floo station. Which was of utmost importance since the boy was paying more attention to the shops than where he was going, his box of marzipans clutched securely to his chest.

They only had to stand in line for a few minutes. Credence actually seemed to relax as he got to see various witches and wizards casually use the fireplaces to return home from their shopping; and he was nowhere as uneasy this time around. Graves added the necessary sprinks to a coin slot in the mantel (which was necessary to apply to floo powder), picked up the boy and stepped into the fireplace saying:
"Graves apartment, New York City!"

And after just a few spinning moments he stepped out onto the rug in front of the fireplace at home.

As he did Credence gasped by his shoulder.

He looked at him, slightly bewildered. This was the boy's second time of travel, right? So why did he look so shocked?

He didn't have to wait long for an elaboration, however.

"That fire was much warmer than yours, Mr Percival!", Credence said.

The wizard suddenly had to clear his throat.

"Really?", the wizard remarked.

It wasn't like he had forgotten to put the heat repelling charm on the boy on the way back.

Don't be silly.

"You sure it wasn't just because you were out in the cold before we stepped in this time?", he wondered innocently as he carried the boy to the tambour where they could take of their outdoor coats.

"It could be...", the boy pondered.

He didn't dwell on it long though and seemed to have forgotten all about it by the time Graves had brought out the pumpkin pastries in the sitting room, along with a cup of coffee for himself and a glass of milk for the boy.

"Come Credence ", Graves said and patted the sofa.

"I've got something to show you."

He had waved over a book from the living room bookcase. It was gift he, amongst most attendants, had received on the ten year anniversary of the Woolworth building. It was merely a photo collection of aerial shots of New York City following the years throughout the construction and use of the building; but Graves figured it would be perfect for some light education.

He scooped up Credence to sit in his lap and opened the book.

"Do you know where we are now?", he asked after letting Credence gawk at the moving traffic and pedestrians.

The boy thought for a while, probably trying to remember the route they took yesterday. Graves let him flip the pages back and forth to look at the pictures of Lower Manhattan and Central park.

"Here?" He pointed at the neighboring street and looked up at Graves with his big brown eyes.

"Almost", the wizard says.

When Credence looked back to the page a golden circle had appeared on the black and white picture, circling the roof of the apartment.

"We went from here", Graves said,"To here with Floo powder."

As he spoke the golden marking made an arrow stretching across the buildings and Central park to Harlem; where it gathered in a line resembling Cinder street.

"Wow", the boy breathed.

The page turned by itself to a few shots of the shopping street (showing what it looked like back in 1913). The Nimble Thimble was there, as well as the Caramel crystal. The potion ingredient shop looked the same as ever.

Opened 1562, the gold spelled out.

Then: Renamed in 1733

And again in 1857 with the changed ownership.

They continued like this, Graves pointing out different locations of interest, the golden lines spelling out small notes while Credence listened. He kept the questions at a minimal but it was clear he found it interesting; while eating his pumpkin pastry.

Which was probably why Graves didn't notice that the boy dozed off until he was leaning completely against him.

He had obviously been more tired than he had let on.

Graves continued reading on his own in quiet while waiting for the boy to be enough asleep so that he wouldn't rouse when he moved him. Because as cozy as it was he had other things to do.

As he sat there he noticed Credence had orange crumbles on his cheek.

He brushed them off.

He also realized that Credence would need another bath tonight because he smelled of ashes.

He wondered how often children were supposed to bathe.

He wondered what would happen if they bathed too often…

The fact that he didn't know the answers concerned him.

When Credence's breaths were deep enough he carried him into the boy's own room and tucked him in with a blanket on top of the covers.

Then he left the child to nap and brought some work out into the living room from the office.

Just as he picked up the first report he let himself glance at the ajar bedroom door.

He wondered how long children were supposed to nap...

You bet your cute bubble butt that Credence is going to collect Chocolate Frog Cards X)

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Thanks for reading 3