For hours, Credence knew nothing as he rampaged all over New York. He hated. He hated everyone. Hated Mary Lou, for being an atrocious excuse of a mother. Hated Chastity, for becoming more and more similar to Mary Lou as she grew up. He hated the No-Majs for being cruel to him, and the wizards and witches for ignoring and abandoning him. He hated Modesty- although it was no fault of her own- for being a decoy who drew Mr. Graves's attention away from him. And of course, he hated Mr. Graves, with a searing, burning passion that made him want to burn the world: for lying to him, using him, manipulating him, drawing him close, allowing him to bask in his shadow, before casting him aside like a piece of trash.
But above all, he hated himself. He utterly loathed himself, and wished that he could tear himself apart, the same way that he tore the buildings and streets apart. Tear himself apart to pieces, until he would know nothing no more. Stupid, useless Credence, a voice whispered to him. Idiot, foolish, naïve Credence. Actually believing that someone cared about you. Actually thinking that someone liked you, that you were worth something. You're nothing, and you'll always be nothing, so at least make them suffer like you.
Only after he dove into a subway tunnel did he find that he'd exhausted himself out. Slowly, gradually, he slipped lower and lower, pooling by the floor.
"Credence, I know you're there." The voice that once would have awakened delight now stiffened him, and he drew his black mass together, preparing to attack.
"I've made a terrible mistake. You're right to be angry." The familiar figure of the auror appeared before him. He lowered his wand, then tucked it away, spreading his empty arms to the sides. "There, Credence. You can have my life if you wish it. Attack me. Kill me if that'll make you feel better. I promise not to fight back."
Credence swelled out, breaking walls, shattering columns and bending the rails out of shape. But he was tired. So tired. His rage had nearly burned itself out. For some reason, he found that he couldn't harm Mr. Graves. Hatred was not enough to overwhelm his old feelings of devotion, now wounded with pain and betrayal.
"It was a test, Credence," Mr. Graves said soothingly, slowly advancing forward. "A terrible mistake, but I had to know for certain. I suspected the truth, yet it seemed impossible. An adult Obscurial? I thought myself mad for even considering it. I had to push you to the brink, to make you reveal yourself. I also wanted to know how far I could trust you. If I pretended to never care about you, would you try to kill me?" A pause. "I guess we both now know the answer."
Credence felt himself fading, shrinking. He held on to the remnants of his rage tightly. Don't believe him, he whispered to himself. He's trying to trick you again. He's lying.
Yet still, the truth was that while he'd unflinchingly killed Mary Lou, the woman he'd called mother for most of his life, and Chastity, his younger adopted sister that had grown up beside him, he still wanted to believe that someone cared. That someone would try to redeem him.
"You don't know if to believe me," said Mr. Graves. "You're right. You can't know. But I'll tell you a secret, so that you can hold my life in your hands."
He pulled out his wand and pointed it at himself. "Revelio."
Mr. Graves transformed. Credence felt his black mass swell, startled and wary. The man he'd known turned into a different man. Tall and slim, with sharp, beautiful features, blond hair and cool blue eyes. He looked to be about Mr. Graves's age, but there was a youthful, playful air about him, contrasting Mr. Graves's seriousness. Simultaneously, there was another quality to him, a dark poise that made him almost feel ancient.
"You're wondering who I am." Even his voice was different: slightly accented, silky, refined. So different from Mr. Graves's warm tones. "Gellert Grindelwald. Percival Graves is one of my followers, who quite kindly agreed to let me borrow his identity for the last few months. You never knew the man. You've always been speaking to me. But now... You should know the truth. I'm sorry I had to deceive you."
Credence didn't know what to think. It was hard to hold on to his anger and hatred when he felt so confused. He faded more, then felt himself wither back into his human form. Sad, lonely, worthless. He almost wished to return immediately to the raging monster. At least then he'd been powerful.
"Don't look so broken, my dear boy," Mr. Grindelwald murmured, and now Credence could see the similarity to the Mr. Graves he'd known. Not in the voice, but in the words. Not in his movements, which were more fluid and less purposeful than Mr. Graves's, but in the piercing, mesmerizing quality of his eyes.
"Grindelwald!" a shout came. Three aurors rushed through the wreckage, throwing wild spells. "Bleeker, contact Graves! Tell him we found Grindelwald!"
"We're out of time, I'm afraid." Mr. Grindelwald parryed their attacks almost lazily. "They desire to kill you, the fools. I must leave. Will you come with me?"
It didn't take much debating on Credence's part. The aurors certainly looked murderous. He rushed over to Mr. Grindelwald and grabbed his arm. Then they were surrounded by oppresive blackness and were gone.
They appeared in a garden beside a mansion. An ornate fountain gurgled in the center, surrounded by wintergreen and lobelias. There were statues spread out in the garden, of dragons, centaurs, unicorns and giants.
"Come." Mr. Grindelwald led him along the paved path and up the steps. The large oak doors opened silently before him.
"Welcome home, Lord Grindelwald," chirped a house-elf as they walked in. He was a short, sharp nosed creature, dressed in a clean white sheet.
The house was richly decorated, a plush red carpet covering the floor, classical-style paintings hanging from the walls and a golden chandelier dangling from the ceiling. A winding marble staircase led to the second floor. Credence's attention was caught by one of the paintings. The lady beside the harp daintily raised her hand to cover a yawn. She noticed Credence staring and grinned.
"How is Percy doing, Nory?" Mr. Grindelwald was asking as he shrugged off his coat.
Nory's ears fell. "The master has refused to eat anything this morning, my lord. He seems quite dejected."
Mr. Grindelwald hummed in response. "Well, I have someone to cheer him up. This is Credence Barebone. He'll be staying with Percy for a while, I believe, and will be in charge of the house. Follow me, Credence."
Credence followed, bewildered and overwhelmed by his surroundings, as they climbed up the flight of stairs and entered a living room. A man sat by the fireplace, chained to the armchair, his mouth gagged with a handkerchief, bearing a black eye. It was Mr. Graves.
His hair was long and messy, his clothing rumpled, and he looked exhausted and miserable. Nothing like the well dressed, immaculate man Credence had known.
"I thought- I thought he was one of your followers," Credence blurted out in shock.
"Oh, he is," Mr. Grindelwald said, eyes gleaming. "Aren't you, Percy?" He waved his wand, and the handkerchief fell away.
"You bastard, I'll kill you!" snarled the real Mr. Graves.
"Now, Percy, don't say anything you'll regret later." Mr. Grindelwald took the other armchair, settling down in a languid motion.
There were no other seats in the room, so Credence remained standing.
"You told me it would take two weeks! I've been locked up in this damn house for three months!"
Mr. Grindelwald raised a slender eyebrow. "You do recall that was an estimate. And you can only blame yourself for being locked in the house, after breaking the terms of our agreement multiple times. But now, I have good news. Credence." He motioned with a finger, and Credence found himself coming forward, obeying the imperious gesture before he could think.
"This is the Obscurial," Mr. Grindelwald said. "I've finally found him."
"Him?! He's one of the Second Salemers. An adult Obscurial?" Graves huffed, disbelief intermingling with contempt. "Impossible!"
Mr. Grindelwald clucked, disapproving. "You're making the same mistake I did. Judging a book by its cover. Assuming that if something's improbable, then it can't happen." He glanced at Credence. "Show him."
Credence shook his head. He had some limited amount of control that allowed him to suppress the Obscurus, but call on it intentionally? It terrified him. Only in moments of terrible rage had he allowed it to emerge. Besides, he disliked being ordered to preform like a circus animal.
In one flowing motion, Mr. Grindelwald had risen to his feet and was beside him.
"Credence," he murmured in his ear. "I understand this is difficult, but we must show this man your real nature. You might not remember this, but there was a witch who tried to protect you, Porpentina Goldstein. She attacked Mary Lou when she saw her beating you."
Credence clenched his fists. He somehow knew that Mr. Grindelwald was speaking the truth, with the same certainty that he knew his own name. But... "Why don't I remember this?"
"You were obliviated, my boy." Mr. Grindelwald no longer bothered to keep his voice low. "All of you were. And Miss Goldstein was punished for the crime of trying to protect a No-Maj. He's the man who ordered her to be punished for helping you." He pointed at Graves.
Sudden rage filled Credence, and black smoke began billowing from his skin. Graves stared at him with pure horror.
"Impossible..."
"You ought to rot here forever," Credence spat.
Mr. Grindelwald shushed him, arm wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him aside. "He's suffered quite a bit in the last months, as you can see, though mostly through his own doing. I understand your thirst for revenge, Credence. But you must set your sights higher. For all his flaws, Percy was just a bureaucrat following twisted laws. It's not the individual actors that carry the majority of the blame here; it's the unjust system that governs them."
The murky shadows gradually faded, receding under Credence's skin, while he trembled and struggled to contain himself.
"What do you mean?"
"The International Statute of Secrecy." Mr. Grindelwald spoke as if the words themselves had a vile taste. "It means we have voluntarily rendered ourselves helpless, cruelly ignoring anyone who needs our help. We allow the No-Majs to run rampant, killing themselves and our own people in needless wars, developing ever deadlier weapons of mass destruction. Rappaport's Law, the American law, is even worse. It means that wizards and witches wouldn't even be allowed to talk to you, let alone rescue you, so long as they believed you to be a No-Maj."
"You're oversimplifying the whole issue-" objected Graves from behind them.
Mr. Grindelwald turned. "Am I?" he responded chillingly, placing his hand on Credence's shoulder. "Please do justify leaving this boy in the care of that abusive woman, Percy."
Credence allowed the black storm to seep out of him, this time intentionally, and felt a thrill of spiteful triumph when Graves cowered in his chair.
"So you found yourself a weapon, Grindelwald," he said bitterly, flinching away from the thick, living shadows that drew closer and closer. "He's using you, boy. You'll be discarded as soon as you're no longer useful."
Credence hesitated, his Obscurus stretching out wide in uncertainty, but Mr. Grindelwald only laughed. It was dark, lovely sound that sent a shot of pleasure through Credence's body.
"What are you trying to do, Percy? Turn him against me with such crude lies? You underestimate his intelligence."
With every word, the Obscurus quieted and dimmed, until it disappeared completely. Mr. Grindelwald waved his wand and the chains around Graves fell away.
"Come now, try to behave for just a little while. I must go clean up that mess before MACUSA start suspecting too much. Credence, please keep Percy company while I'm gone. He's been alone in the house for far too long."
He turned, then paused and drew Credence close, murmuring in his ear. "You can ask the house-elf for food or anything else you'd like. Under the terms of our agreement, Nory obeys my orders. Also, you can treat Percy any way you desire. I only ask that you keep him alive and unharmed. But remember, this is your house now as much as it's his."
Credence stared. His house? This mansion?
Then he recalled something. "Modesty, my sister-"
"Ah, yes. That must be taken care of. Thank you for reminding me." Mr. Grindelwald smiled drily. "You understand that by contacting her, we'll be committing a crime, breaching Rappaport's Law?"
Credence bit his lip. It was ridiculous, infuriating, sick. "It's a terrible law."
"You're perfectly right, my boy. And that is why we'll overturn it," he added lightly, heading for the door.
"Wait!" Credence hurried after him, grabbing a sleeve.
"Yes?" Just the slightest hint of impatience colored his tone.
"What if Mr. Graves is angry and tries to hurt me when I'm alone with him?" he whispered, a sudden fear rising in him. The truth was that he was lost in this new, strange world that he'd long dreamed of joining.
"Credence," said Mr. Grindelwald, sounding fond and exasperated in equal measures. "If he does, then he's the greatest fool I've ever met. You have my full permission to kill him in such a situation, of course." He tucked a strand of hair behind Credence's ear. "He may have a terrible temper, but believe me, he's far more afraid of you than you are of him."
Credence swallowed and let go of the sleeve, far less confident than Mr. Grindelwald, but sensing that the man wasn't interested in being detained any longer.
Then he was left alone with Graves.
"Has you completely wrapped around his little finger, doesn't he?" grunted the older man as he stood up and stretched his limbs.
Credence frowned. "What do you mean?"
"It's his method. Never met a fella with such a talent for manipulation. Even people who know of his reputation fall for it."
"Aren't you following him too?" Credence pointed out. He wasn't entirely sure what the relationship between Graves and Mr. Grindelwald was, at this point.
Graves snorted. "I'm different. I have my own reasons for doing what I do. I'm not one of his fanatics. The man's clearly insane, but he's the only one who can get me what I want."
"And what is that?"
Graves narrowed his eyes, suspicious. "Why should I tell you?"
"You don't have to," said Credence nervously. He decided he'd had enough of the hostile conversation. He walked over to the door, intending to explore the house.
"My sister got locked in jail because of me."
Credence froze and turned.
"I asked to borrow her identity. I had to do something... Illegal, but it's a stupid law, and it looked far less suspicious if I pretended to be her. Some witnesses saw me doing it, while wearing her face." He spoke very rapidly, as though he hadn't had anyone to talk to in a long time. "She got sentenced for three years. I have to get her out."
"You let her stand trial instead of you?" Credence didn't bother to hide his disgust.
Graves looked halfway between embarrassed and stubborn. "There were complications. I can't explain. Besides, I have the means to try and release her. She would've been helpless to free me."
"You're a coward," said Credence and walked out of the room without another word.