Chapter Text
Credence couldn't stand this yelling. When Skender went on whipping another freak, trying to beat obedience into them, the boy with the mop tried to hum under his breath to phase out the noise. All of them were freaks, otherwise, they didn't have names. For the audiences, they had their circus names: the Bonfire Woman, the Wicked Twins, the Snake Woman. None of them ever said these titles out loud, none felt like artists. He, Credence, not being the one on the stage, was less than a freak; he was a nobody. It served him just well at the time. Skender would usually call him 'boy', or 'hey, you'.
There was also a serving house-elf who got the same portion of Skender love as everybody else. He didn't have a name at all, and everybody called him 'elf'.
There was noise. Sometimes his bones would burn, and his joints felt like they were about to be torn out. Credence didn't know whether he was screaming then, or the noise of the circus just became louder.
He only had one thing to do.
Unlike the freaks, he was relatively free to move around, and that and only that helped him to witness a new object being brought. The noise she created was almost insurmountable. Credence hid behind the curtain, his eyelids heavy from the lack of sleep. The smells of the circus were itchy in his nostrils; sweat, wet rags everybody wore, scat, sour smell of rotten food. The smell of burning flesh from the Zouwu cage.
Skender servants were whipping the horses, hurrying with the big cage mounted on the carriage. The girl inside was sputtering curses so quickly Credence couldn't process half of them. She was all golden and young, she looked like a hostage. But she wasn't a freak. Her long braided bronze hair was discheveled, she was definitely a witch. On her wrists, and her feet, there were thin but hot-looking golden chains. As she swirled around in her cage, jumping at the bars like mad, Credence noticed the same type of chain on her neck, locked so tight it must hurt her. Her eyes were bizarre, mad, like she was not all there.
He had the wonderful ability to hide so well Skender couldn't catch him even when he stood next to him behind a shelf with potions and medications. In the commotion of the newcomer, nobody noticed him.
The new freak was kept in a bird-like huge cage that was lowered from the roof of the tent; three people were needed to keep her in place with long poles while the cage was being put in place. Not because she would catch flames or turn into a cougar; but because she was so wild all the time.
The bars of her cage lit red-hot everytime one touched them; it was done not to let her move too much. There was just enough place for her to lay down in fetus position. Credence knew all that because he cleaned, and could hide like a ghost. To kill the time somehow in here, until he could come up with a plan, he hid around the corners, behind the curtains, below the desks, among the empty cages, and listened to everything. He was like a spirit, more than a man; and like an annoying poltergeist, he was treated.
As the dust settled, after her hectic arrival, Skender had the honors of listening to her interminable flow of curses and threats; all too rude and self-confident to Credence's taste. He would cram himself in between the clothing rag and the row of shelves standing behind the tent wall, and peek out with one eye to take a look.
"When I get out, and believe me, I will", she hissed with an accent Credence would place somewhere between Europe and north of England, "you will regret ever seeing me with your two eyes".
Skender laughed, his face almost hidden behind his uncombed, lush beard, his dirty face with little pig eyes glistening with sweat.
"You're now in this cage with the chains, little monster".
She tried to grab onto the bar, and it sizzled with the piece of skin from her palm. She yelped with pain and jumped back, cradling her hand. Skender started laughing again. Dull music of bells flowed into the tent in narrow torrents. Her face was almost covered with her hair, but big, golden hoops were glimmering through it in her ears; she looked like a jinn.
The girl crawled back and took the bars with her two hands, as if the scorching iron didn't hurt her at all. The movement was quick, sharp; Skender twitched with his whole body and held his breath for a second. For some time, the only sound in there was the bubbling skin on her hands as she held the bars.
"I will make you eat your own two eyeballs, poacher. Remember that".
Skender grabbed a walking stick placed against a box further away, and took two steps towards the cage. The girl slowly let go of the bars and sat down at the sharp sound of the strike.
"Sit back, and be quiet".
The man left, and Credence stepped deeper into the shadows. As the sound of Skender's steps faded away, he heard the girl moan with pain. He peeked out again: she crouched on the ground, trying not to scream.
"Mesdames et Messieurs! Come closer, see tonight, at the Circus Arcanus, for your pleasure! The ancient creature of magic! Yes, you heard it right! The old hag looks like a young girl but let it not mislead you! For this creature was caught in the darkest forests of Scotland doing ancient magic!"
The crowd gasped. The girl sat in the middle of the scene, on the ground, seemingly unbothered by the dozens of pairs of eyes watching her. Her gold glimmered in the light of candles.
"These chains on her ankles, her wrists, her neck, and around her waist" - Skender banged his stick on the bars of the stage, and nothing happened. "These chains", he repeated again, louder. Of course, she wouldn't perform for him. Her body was shaking with rage. Skender bared his teeth, motioning to the servants to move into the stage and kick her. Nobody would volunteer. Finally, the house elf stepped into the little arena, trembling with fear.
"The chains you're about to see keep her magic at bay. These mind-boggling locks have been forged by Tubal-cain himself, and present another wonder of the world, recovered five hundred years ago in Jerusalem. Only a fine feature of blacksmith art can really contain power like this".
The elf approached the girl carefully and she lifted her face towards him. Surprisingly, she didn't attack him, but even let him get her up to her feet and lift the hem of her chemise a little, where the chain was seen. Having completed this little task, the elf ran back out of the cage quickly. She stayed standing, observing the audience like a wolf, with no human recognition whatsoever.
How old was she, Credence wondered. And does ancient magic really still exist?
"Now, if you will, ladies and gentlemen, on the sides of the cage, we need a little space", elated Skender continued. The spectators shifted and moved, chattering quietly. On both sides of the scene, two magicians appeared, with their wands ready.
"To prove to you how strong the hag is, we will set her on fire. And believe me", Skender grinned with his showman's sneer, "no hair on her head will be harmed".
Credence caught himself holding his breath. As the two servants shouted, Incendio!, simultaneously, the long fiery tails flew out of the tips of their wands, rushing towards her. The last the audience saw of her was her unmoving position, her face with absolutely no expression. For several moments, she was burning, standing, like a straw figure they destroy at the end of winter. After the fire ceased, the viewers gasped once again: the witch was still there, not a sign of injury on her; her clothes, her hair, her whole body unharmed.
"The next time you levitate", Skender said. After the show, she was dragged and thrown back to her narrow cage, but didn't lose her spirits. Now was the time for her to laugh.
"Miserable fool. I don't levitate by command".
He waved his fist in the air as if he could do something with it. Credence had witnessed her jump on one of the servants with her feet and her fingers spread, trying to gouge his eyes out. She used no magic, but her anger alone gave her a little headstart.
"You will! You will do as I say".
"It doesn't work like that!" she shouted.
"Next time, you levitate like a fairy, or I will start torturing the elf".
The smile didn't quite leave her face, but her eyes hardened.
"You remember what I told you, Skender? Once I get out of here..."
"It won't happen", Skender spat on the floor in front of him. "You talk big, but you won't get out of the chains. You do as I say, bitch, and stop jumping if you don't want your face burnt like your hands".
Credence later interloped the elf as he was bringing her food, and gave him the ointment, for her palms. It wouldn't rid her of scars at once, but should take away the pain.
Credence loved no one; Nagini loved him. Because he was braver than he seemed, and cared more than he showed. He was nice to her, he talked to her while everybody else, even the freaks, tried to keep their distance. In this little torture prison, the victims even formed alliances and the closest to Skender, put down the outcasts. Credence was not like them, and he was the only one who treated her with decency.
Only through him did she get any news of, if not the world, but at least the enclosed space of their circus. Who perfromed what, who Skender beat up, who left, who came. About the new freak, the ancient witch, she proposed to get closer to her. Maybe she would help them escape; she clearly desires that. Maybe, if they gave her what she wanted - Skender, - and free her of chains, she would liberate them together with her. Credence agreed, but he didn't know how to handle her.
"Be nice to her, like you are with me", said Nagini. Credence was looking down at his shoes on the dirty floor. He was, in fact, not the best for cleaning.
She did not levitate, the next time. As she said, the owner's requirements were unreasonable. There was no way she would levitate. The next performance was a disaster. She just stood there, disinterested, looking at the people outside like she wanted to crunch on their bones. No matter what Skender did; he poked her with his stick and lambasted her with curses, and screamed at her; she wouldn't leviate. Eventually, the servants were called to repeat the same trick with the fire. Credence asked himself, why she bled when stroke with a slicing curse, but wouldn't burn.
After the show, almost as it ended, he raced through the circus. He didn't know why the witch treated the elf so well, but there was talk of her killing poachers in dozens at a time, before she had been caught. He found the elf in the kitchen, mopping half-heartedly, and, with all the magic he possibly had in him, locked him in a huge locket in his little room at the end of the tent, next to the petty, where he slept. He threw some cheese and bread inside, and swore him to be quiet, and listened, as Skender ravaged through the circus, looking for him. He sat on the locket, shivering. Magically, no less than in a sway of miracle, Skender never made it to his little hole. After several hours of beating, screaming and bludgeoning everyone who crossed his path, Skender finally have gone quiet. Maybe he even left the tent to go to the city and buy a new elf; Credence opened the locket and begged with the old one to stay there for a while. The elf didn't much care and didn't fight back as he shoved him deeper.
She was yelling for Skender. Her voice was shrill and angry and made Credence hold on to his head as he approached her cage. The sharp pain in his temples razored him so deep he couldn't see for several seconds.
He sneaked into the place they were holding her and finally stood in front of the cage and not outside, hiding.
She was sitting with her back to the entrance, cursing.
"You should try to comply", he said, interrupting the torrent of crying.
"You should do what he says, for your own sake, and those around you".
He bowed his head a little out of habit. He was still a little intimidated of her, even though she was in the cage.
The witch turned to him, silenced at once. First, she was frowning, but, as she looked at him, her face lit up with a strange expression. He saw the recognition in her eyes, and it took him by surprise. For some time she was even quiet, and then, in a voice no one has heard her use here before, she called,
"Credence?"
She stood oh ner knees and reached her hand through the bars, careful not to touch them. Credence didn't move, uncertain what it meant.
"You know me?"
"Yes", her hand was reaching for him. The gold bracelet on her thin wrist glimmering. Credence wouldn't budge.
"How do you know my name?"
"It's a long story..." she appeared to be pondering something. Then scowled with horror.
"What year is it?"
She had a very young face; not older than eighteen, maybe. It was difficult to say. Her eyes knew something, there were dark shadows around them. But her face was the face of a maiden. And she asked him what year it was?
"Nineteen twenty seven", he said, observing her. She retreived her hand back, touching her head absently, trying to comb her long hair.
"Oh, no", she looked back at him, "we need to leave this place, Credence".
"Is it true that you have ancient magic? That you're old?" he asked, deciding to leave empty politeness aside.
"Yes, but these chains contain it", she said, looking at her wrists. "This one on the neck barely lets me breathe. And to think that I was back at Hogwarts, poachers' doom! That's what they called me! But I completely lost the track of time. I should've understood, when Dumbledore came to teach... I was away for too long..."
Credence blinked several times, frustrated at her empty muttering.
"How do we get them off?"
For a second she thought, then her face lit up. She was so different, so gentle, Credence noticed, when she wasn't screaming profanities at people.
"You could do it". The way she said it was meaningful.
"You... know what I am?" he asked. Familiar itch in the back of his head made him stoop, trying to contain terror tearing out of him. Suddenly he was expecting a strike, but it didn't come.
"Yes", she said tenderly, like someone who really knew him. Credence made himself look up and examined her face again. He was sure they've never met before.
"How? Is it because you're a... an ancient witch?"
"I am not ancient, Skender just invented it for the sake of effect..." she gasped, "the elf! What is with him? Is he alive??"
Credence watch her almost grab on the hot bars again and hurried to answer,
"I hid him. He's okay".
"Oh, thank you, thank you Credence. How many animals are in this circus?"
"Only Zouwu and a kappu. And, well, the elf", Credence shrugged. It felt secondary to him, but clearly, that's what she was most concerned about. "There also used to be a hippogriff and a couple of half-goblins, but Skender got rid of them".
Credence saw she was about to cry.
"What do you mean, got rid of them?"
He tried to actually pull the memory of them from his head; the months at the circus were blurry, like one big, loud, horrible carnival with constant bashing noise and the mixture of color.
"Look. Will you help us if I release you?"
"Who is with you?"
"A friend. Have you seen the snake woman?"
"Nagini?" she asked. Credence decided not to amaze at her knowing them all. He just nodded.
"We should get her out. And the elf. And kappa, and the Zouwu, very important".
He got agitated at her energy, seeing as the plan was suddenly being pulled at the seams. It wasn't their plan to rescue the whole circus.
"No, listen-"
"Bring me the biggest knife you can find, and a bell, alright?"
Credence listened to the outside, making sure nobody was listening to them like he used to.
"Alright..."
She outstretched her hand again.
"Give me your hand, Credence".
Maybe she was about to read destiny on his palm. He saw the scars on her skin, looking very similar to his own. As he touched her slender hand, he felt the surge of magic, and warmth, at the touch of a human. Strange thoughts howled in his mind. He wanted to slide his fingers up and tear the chain from her wrist away.
"We will get out of here. Believe my rage, friend".
As he returned to Nagini to give her the news, he was still pondering on the touch. It seemed he got a glimpse of what his magic could be; as if he touched something equally strong, and equally dangerous as himself, but more golden.
"The next time she's brought to performance, we escape", he said.
The circus was readying for the evening show. The fire breather was brushing her hair; she gave Credence a glance of resentment as he passed her room. The twins were arguing about something, and the beasts were nervously pacing in their cages. He was overwhelmed with worry; he was sure the witch was going to complicate everything once she's out. It occurred to him in one of those moments, that he never asked her name; while she knew his and Nagini's. In his mind, she was the golden witch. The hoops in her ears, the bracelets around her wrists, and ankles, and neck, all vaguely symbolic, of what, he didn't know. As they gleamed in the bright candlelight, the flashes were as bright as the sun, almost white and iridescent.
Skender's workers poked her with sticks as she walked calmly towards the arena; she did listen to Credence, and became agreeable, convincing Skender he managed to break her down after all. Nagini had been picking a hole in her own cage, in the narrow, thin bars that kept her even in her snake form. At the right hour, she turned and slid quietly, concealing in the shadows of the drapes, while everybody was busy preparing for the show. The look of her empty room was the signal Credence had been waiting for.
He picked up a kinfe from Skender's empty room - he had been hiding the elf in his room, feeding him; he had to get him on a chain not to let him run back to his master. It was for his own good. He made a mental note to release the elf once the tumult begins. He had gone to see the lock on the Zouwu cage and realized it would be useless to battle with it without magic. The sight of the beast, contained in a small cage, stirred anger in him. He decided that he agreed at least on this with the witch. Zouwu had to be set free.
As she was being led through the corridors, happy Skender walking in front of her, Credence peeked from one of the sections of the tent, sending her a nod. She barely moved her eyes but formed fists of her hands. Credence ran. As he was running, he tore the hat from a clown's head, because it had bells. Nagini sliding beside him, his greatest weapon so far. He sneaked behind the back of the worker, and gave him a jab in the back of the neck. Nagini stroke, and the man fell on the ground.
The fuss began. Skender turned around, alarmed by the shrill scream of pain. Nagini slid between their legs, attacking the next guardian, while the witch kicked the third one. She jumped again - like a monkey, her limbs coarse from all the sitting, and started bashing his head on the ground. The horrified worker screamed. Credence watched as Nagini turned back into human and thought it a mistake; she would be far safer if she just crawled away from the path of the witch to let her deal with Skender. He didn't know why she did that. Behind her back, the witch was making her way towards Credence with her hand outstretched. He ran forward, handing her the knife. A spell whistled just above her ear, hitting Credence in the shoulder. He caught himself on the wall, sharp pain in his limb crawling down to his fingers. He felt the black whirlwind inside grumbling with rage; he would lose control soon, and then the whole circus, together with his two accomplices, would be buried. He clenched his teeth, looked into her eyes. The witch turned around and ducked, missing another spell. She was quite good.
Nagini attacked Skender with nothing but her short, sharp blade; and a green flash lit the narrow corridor for a split second. Credence heard himself scream as Nagini fell. The witch yelped with rage and threw the knife. As Nagini's body hit the ground, the weapon cut the air silently, and lounged in the middle of Skender's chest. He already put up his wand again, but didn't have the chance to yell a curse. The witch followed the knife, a golden lightning, and launched on him as he, too, crashed on the ground.
There were inhuman screams as she bent above him. Credence could feel the salt in his throat, while crawling towards Nagini. She was dead.
"What did I tell you, Skender?"
Skender shrieked with pain as she plunged her sharp fingers in his eyesockets. Then, gurgling sound, in Credence's head it sounded like music. He was half-way turned now, having forgotten about the elf, or anything else, for that matter. The world around him was already in shambles; the other freaks ran towards the noise, and now were scattering in all directions at the sight of what the witch was doing to their master. There was roar, and shrieking, and laughter, and terrified screams; wondering yelling from the spectators already at the arena, waiting for the show that would never begin.
She pulled on his shoulders with force, but was still unable to get him up if he didn't cooperate.
"Credence".
He lifted his eyes on her. Her gold touched her cheeks; long locks flying around her head.
"Please don't come undone; not now. You will kill us all".
He made it to his feet, and only then realized he was clutching her hand. She looked down at Nagini, horrified.
"This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to live... what have I done..."
He bit his lip until his teeth hurt. He split his lip in two.
"Skender killed her".
She pleaded with him to go release the animals. The circus workers were already gathering, unsure what to do. There was no explicit need to fight them for they were unguided without the showman who was now lying on the ground, with his squelched eyes in his open mouth. Credence looked at her hands, covered in blood.
"I'll release the elf".
"Wait", she ran back to the body and recovered Skender's wand.
"I can't do any magic at all, but you can".
"I've never had a wand in my life", Credence mumbled. Her face was in front of him, her hands took his head, covering his ears.
"Magic is in you. You're a natural. You can do a simple Alohomora. Meet me at the Zouwu cage outside".
Credence thought of taking Nagini with them, but couldn't think of any possible way to carry her. The best he could do was, taking her to his hole - yes, it was tiny, and smelly. But he slept there, and there was no other remotely acceptable place for her. Feeling his face twitching with crying, he put her into his bed and touched her face.
He then cut the chains off the elf.
"I'll tell master Skender!" he yelled.
"Skender's dead. The witch killed him", Credence replied coldly, "you can come with us if you want".
The elf glanced at the body in his bed and shook his head. Then he walked slowly away, and Credence followed him into the corridor. As he walked, he watched the ravaged rooms and freaks running away. Kappa's aquarium was now empty; his travelling water bag was gone together with him. As Credence turned to exit the tent, he found the river vampire sitting on Skender's chest and sucking the blood out of a big cut on his face. Credence slithered between them and the wall and ran outside.
The witch was standing next to the cage of Zouwu. It was visibly nervous. The cage wasn't even big enough to pace, so it just rocked from side to side, puffing. Some servants were also outside, trying to get her with spells, but she was hiding behind the stands with colorful costumes.
Credence looked at the wand in his hand and realized he didn't know any offense spells. When he heard someone use them, he didn't pay attention, not even a thought in his head that he, one day, would wield a wand. The flashes were raining on the side of the tent, trying to get her, as she crouched on the ground, yelling at them. It seemed, she had lost her mind completely and was just trying to defeat them with verbal damnations. Credence pointed Skender's wand towards two men and thought, 'go away'.
A powerful surge of air picked up the rags, clothes and garbage from the ground, eventually reaching them. It held them in the air like toys, and then they were pulled with force, thrown away, against the nearby market buildings, like glass figurines. The other two made themselves scarce instantly.
The witch reappeared, a bit dowdyish but in one piece, and, suddenly, there was a big, big smile on her face, making her look like a girl again. She gave him two thumbs up. Credence swayed and ran towards the cage. There was a crowd gathering on the square already; people were concerned, someone yelled something about the aurors.
He ordered, Alohomora!, and the lock cracked, and fell from the bars. The witch made him step back as she opened the door and let the beast out.
"Where's the bell?"
He pulled the clown's hat from behind his belt and handed it to her.
She shook the hat in front of the huge beast. It was big, like all the circus itself; bright-red and fiery yellow, it had two gigantic amber eyes that now followed the tiny clown bell attentively.
"Get his collar off", she whispered. Credence didn't even register it until she pushed him lightly on the shoulder. She continued to shake the bell in front of the monster; Credence was getting angry. He wasn't some spell-ready machine, he didn't know how to get the collar off without hurting the Zouwu. He voiced that.
"Credence", she said assertively, tugging on his collar. Finally, a gesture familiar to him, brought him back to his senses. "Credence, my friend, listen to me. Focus on the collar, and say Evanesco. Can you do that?"
He stummered.
"I-I guess".
"Go on my boy. There are people gathering already, and soon, the fighters of Ministry will be here, and I don't trust them much".
He pointed his wand at the tight iron collar, barely visible in the beast's lush orange fur.
"Evanesco!"
Instead of quietly vanishing, the collar first narrowed, choking the Zouwu, and then broadened, and exploded.
The beast roared and moved its enourmous body in all directions. People around them shouted and rushed away, but Credence decided to fix it immediately. He tugged on the creature's fur, trying to run behind its moving face. He could hear the witch calling his name, and the sound of bells. A strong push bounced off of his hurt shoulder, and Credence was in the air for a couple of seconds. The Zouwu, and the square, turned upside down, and he crashed onto a pile of rags at the circus entrance. As the whistling in his ears calmed down, he regrouped, and saw the witch trying to calm the beast down. She was just like a little squirrel in front of its face. It didn't pay attention to bells anymore, it was snapping its huge jaws, trying to swallow her.
He couldn't control the obscurial anymore. He could feel, rather than understand, as it lifted him up, tearing his body apart. Black smoke lifted him above the ground and pulled forward, towards her. He only just managed to catch her reaching hand as he soared up, into the sky, losing his consciousness in the roaring vortex of the wind.
When he woke up, the freshness of the air almost lulled him back to sleep. He saw the stars, glimmering silver, winking at him. The smell of fire near him made his stomach suck its guts with hunger.
He sat up, trying to adjust his eyes to the dark, and the fire, scared. Has he killed her?
"Good evening", he heard. She sat on the other side of the bonfire, comfortably leaned against a stack of hay. Credence looked around. They were far away from Paris; the spaciousness around, and the quiet of the night told him they were outside of the city.
Her face was only lit by the bonfire, and she looked like a fiery ghost.
"How long have I been out?" he asked, his voice rusty.
"Oh, not much. Maybe an hour. You're strong", she said, with a hint of strange admiration in her voice. She was pulling her hair, playing with it, finally relaxed. It was obvious she had been preoccupied.
"I- I never asked your name", Credence said.
"Orlaith Peverell", she replied, simply.
"Oh".
She grinned.
"Did you expect something else?"
He was embarrassed at his reaction.
"No, I just... just thought about you as 'the witch'", he said, bowing his head.
"Oohh, I like it. The Witch. The poachers used to call me the Cutter, but the Witch is much more noble and insidious, I think".
Across the fire, her smile glistened like lightning.
"The Cutter?" he wondered.
"I used to use Sectumsempra on them", she motioned in the air, as if she was slicing the fire diagonally. "It's a slicing curse. It opens up numerous little cuts on the body of the enemy. With time, I mastered it so well I could chop them into pieces with one spell".
"Why did you hunt... the poachers?"
"Well, when I was at Hogwarts, the Forest was swarming with them. I would walk through it to meet my peers, and there would be voices in the woods. I decided to clean the forest. You should've seen what they did to the animals they caught", her face changed into the grimace of hatred.
The names didn't make any sense to him but he gathered he could ask later.
"And how did you get caught?" Credence felt like he was treading on top of a thread, asking her further, as if she could snap. He rubbed his neck which was a little sore after turning. In fact, he realized, his whole body ached, but now it was this warm ache of relaxing muscles.
"Oh, it was so simple. I was not being careful. Dumbledore told me to be discreet, but I was so arrogant. I have ancient magic, Credence. I could turn the earth. I could move mountains, almost. I thought I could take on twenty, thirty men at once. And I could. But, well, I hunted poachers, and they knew the strings to pull. They caught me up in between two flames. They said they wanted to put me in chains and one of them, he held this baby deer in his hands, threatening to slice its throat".
Credence frowned,
"Not even a magic beast?"
"Does it make any difference? As I let them put the chains on me, they let it go. I didn't know these were so powerful", she tugged on her wrist. "Can you try to take them off?"
She was, herself, like a magical chained beast.
He shook his head.
"If I tear them off, I tear you apart with them".
"I am useless", she sighed. "If I weren't useless, Nagini wouldn't have died. This wasn't her fate. She was supposed to live on".
Credence felt the knot in his chest, and concealed his face for a moment.
"Who will take her place now?" she mused quietly.
"What do you mean?"
Orlaith gave him a look of significance, as if she was seeing him for the first time. She even stood up and circled the bonfire to sit next to him.
"How are you after the flight?"
He was taken by surprise by her question. Very rarely, maybe once or twice in his life, has somebody asked him how he was. How he felt, whether he hurt. She was visibly unsure whether to touch him or not, and halfway through, Credence wished she did. She touched his hand quickly.
"I'm alright".
"Can I see your arms?"
A vomit-inducing feeling snaked into his stomach. No way, there are these cracks on his skin, through which the black core is seen. His core. He was dying.
He shook his head slowly and moved away a little.
"I asked you", he repeated, a bit colder, "what you were talking about, about the fate".
She sighed and turned towards the fire. Only now Credence noticed that the witch wasn't wearing any shoes. Her feet must be hurting.
"I know things. Like, your name, and what you are. And I know some of the future, although it's uneven. I can't tell you everything now, it's too sad for me. But... I know that, because I was there at the circus, Nagini died".
He was trying to place this kind of magical ability somewhere on the spectrum of what he knew.
"Are you clairvoyant?"
"Not quite. I just... know how the story goes. It's rather useless now, because I've already been changing the course of time. It seems I've bothered everything".
"Do you know who my mother is?" he asked quickly.
Orlaith was expecting this question. Her voice was filled with sorrow,
"No, I'm sorry. I know that you are an obscurial. Or, rather, there is an obscurial inside you. But your family..." she narrowed her eyes.
"You know, I can tell you this. You are the first - and the only - person in the history who hasn't only survived the first years with obscurial, but lived to see adulthood. You know what that means?"
Credence was silent, thinking, how many times he has reflected upon that. It wasn't something to be proud of, or amazed. Clearly, Orlaith thought that. That he was that special, strong, chosen one. She looked at him like that; like he was something.
"Come on, Credence".
"I don't know. I've thought about it. I can contain it now, control it a little. But I don't know what it means".
She rubbed her foot unconstrainedly. The chain on her ankle winked at him.
"I think... well. When you think about it like that... you must really be very strong to fight and even tame an obscurial like that, for so long. You must have some very old blood. Maybe you're one of the very powerful trees, Credence. I've only heard of several warlocks who could theoretically have that much of magical control".
"What's it good for?"
"It narrows the search greatly".
He shook himself up. Cope, he thought. She makes a lot of sense.
"And... who do you think..."
"I don't know American wizard families, I'm sorry. See", an upset laughter shook her body, "I know so many things, but none of them are useful for you".
In the morning the first light woke him up. A foggy new day was rising above the countryside; Credence had no idea where they were. Chances were, he would need to turn and fly again, only to find out where to move on. While Orlaith slept, snuggled in the hay, he went searching for any houses at all; clutching Skender's wand, he was ready to use it to get some food for breakfast, and shoes, for her.
The remnants of a village were situated not far away, but no people. There was no food; he only found a couple of old, shattered houses, and a big, empty barn. Inside, he found a pair of beaten down boots, small enough for her feet. And a little brown chick, no bigger than a sparrow, peeping softly. He picked up the baby bird in his hand, feeling strangely hollow.
"There aren't even any scraps to give you, little one", he murmured. Together, a chick on his palm, and boots in his hand, they walked across the huge barn. He did manage to find a very old, half-empty bag of crops; but no human food.
As he came back, the witch was already awake, sitting there at the cold bonfire, like someone struck her on her head.
"Sorry, I'm not an early bird", she greeted him. He showed her the shoes, and the chick he found, sure she would love her.
Orlaith was amazed at the little baby like it was the most fantastic thing she'd ever seen in her life. She let it sit on the skirt of her dress, and then handed it back to Credence.
"I think she likes you more".
She was very grateful for the boots, too. Although they were still slightly big for her, she put them on at once, smiling.
The question of breakfast never came up. As they started discussing what to do next, it turned out they had very different plans of action.
"We need to go back to Paris and somehow hop on a train to London. From there, we-"
"No", Credence refused, "I have an address. There is a chance it's my mother's place. That's why I came to Paris in the first place. I have information. I need to go see her".
Orlaith shook her head assertively.
"No, Grinderlwald is looking for you. You won'd find anything in France, Credence. Your best chance is with Dumbledore. We need to seek him. Him, or Newt".
Just the name he recognized stopped him from shaking with anger.
"Newt? Scamander?"
"Yes, you've met him. He has connection to Dumbledore. He'll help you. At Hogwarts, with Albus, you'll be safe".
"I don't need to be safe. I'm looking for my parents", he pressed. Orlaith looked at him with her almost golden eyes. In the light of day she looked more tired, but still mysterious, sparkling. Like a fairy. It was a surprise she couldn't actually levitate; with all her wavy hair, and long dress, and round rings. She was all the light Credence lacked, in his appearance. He knew he was black, bloody and heavy.
"If Grindelwald gets you, you may get the answers, but then you'll die".
"That's what I want".
She stood up, towering above him. Credence was forced to look up upon her. Her face was concerned, unreadable otherwise.
"Don't say that again, Credence", she said quietly. "You will have a better life, without this curse. You will heal, and with healing, you will cast the obscurial out. Hasn't Nagini ever told you it doesn't matter what you were born?"
The sound of her name made him jump out.
"Don't use her like that".
"She was right", Orlaith continued, "you will find your family, but you shall find them not through the alliance with Gellert Grindelwald".
"Is that also a story you know?" he asked with his fists clenched.
"I'm much like you, but my destiny was more gentle with me. I don't know why I have ancient magic; my name only gives me so much to ponder on. But it doesn't matter how I came here, who sent me, why I know what's going to happen. I learnt to control it, it doesn't matter to me anymore. What matters to me is to keep the people I love, safe".
Credence turned away, away from her gaze, that made his spine twitch. He ignored the word she said, it didn't apply to him. Obviosuly didn't apply.
"I thought you only cared about animals".
He heard her chuckle. Her hand laid on his shoulder, and he felt the magic again. They were like two parts of a mechanism, vibrating off of each other. Two sources of infinite magic. It was surprising she didn't feel that, or didn't show. He put the little chick into his pocket.
"I need to go back to Hogwarts. They must be looking for me. They're looking for you, too".
"You go then". Credence hadn't mentioned still that he had no idea what 'Hogwarts' was.
"You don't understand..."
Credence turned back to her and clutched her narrow shoulders. He hadn't touched anyone in years, at all. He could feel the bones under his fingers, and her flesh, warm. He could almost feel her bloodflow, that's how vivid it was. And her slightly open mouth, her flaring nostrils, and her golden earrings, all of it, opened up a gap he didn't know existed in the world. Connection to someone else. She didn't retaliate, didn't scream at him; she didn't get angry or scared. The obscurial inside of him lingered obediently without raising its head. He let go of her, ashamed.
"You don't understand", he managed to utter, "I've been living, without a name, for twenty-seven years. I don't know anything about Grindelwald, and I don't think I care. I can't care".
She put her hands up, with her palms, scarred but much, much healthier than before the ointment; she never got to know that it had been Credence who sent it to her. The elf didn't actually like her that much at all.
She didn't get the chance to say anything, as her eyes enlarged with fear.
The sound of the wind was too swift behind his back, and the smell of someone's presence hit his nose.
Orlaith clutched his shoulder, digging her nails into his flesh, right where the spell hit him yesterday. She held him like she wouldn't let go even if they chopped off her arm. He stood next to her, looking at one man, who had apparated silently and was waiting for their attention.
How much had he heard? Shouldn't be too much, since Orlaith noticed him almost at once. But what if he had been creeping before?
His white face, a face of an old falcon with one glass eye, observed them with quiet contentment.
"My boy", he said softly. His skin crawled. He remembered this person, from before. His suggestive hands on Credence's neck, not warm, but dry and cool, the need to freeze and just comply that always overcame him when this man was beside him. Even when he looked different, Credence was awashed with the sense of importance, and doom, and inevitability. He did care, he thought, deciding the things were much simpler a second ago. Seeing Grindelwald quietly eyeing Orlaith, as he was ruminating. He now got the idea of urgency all of a sudden. A person like this, who had manipulated him to find an obscurial, only to use it, like a weapon. If he got a creature that wielded ancient magic into his arsenal, there would be horrifying things happening.
Her voice echoed strangely in his head. Sure, she would have these chains broken, but then she'll die.
Orlaith just clung onto his shoulder, trying to shove him behind, as the wizard examined them.
"Finally, I found you. Good that you're spending time outside of the city, Paris is so dirty. Who is your friend?"
"She's a freak from the circus. We escaped yesterday", Credence said, which came as a shock to himself. Without a stutter. He knew he could destroy Grindelwald if he really wanted. If he had time to practice, to use this creature inside of him. If he really tried.
As the wizard made a polite step forward, Orlaith barked,
"Don't touch him!"
Gellert's mouth formed an 'oh'. He was entertained.
"A freak, from the circus? And what little tricks do you do, mademoiselle?"
She was about to open her dirty mouth and flood him with everything she could come up with, but Credence took her hand and pulled it away from his shoulder.
"Nothing. She could barely levitate. Why are you here?"
"I have come for you, Credence", Grindelwald cooed quietly, his eyes still on the witch. Credence saw how the old wizard was contemplating her golden collar.
"But should I take her, as well?"
Orlaith tried to grab him again, but Credence shook her off. He didn't even have space to give her a look.
"You need me? Let's go", he said.
"Credence!"
He closed his eyes and formed a storm. In a second, he turned, letting the obscurial out, and it was so easy, almost painless this time. Encircling her, sheltering her from the wizard, he whispered, hoping that she would hear,
"He can't know what you are".
He couldn't see her face, engulfed in the black and orange vortex of himself. The fractions of his soul were tearing at his eyes, ice cold. Then he moved towards Grindelwald where he knew the man was standing, and they flew, together, like two black swarms, towards the skies.
She kept calling his name.
Dumbledore was most puzzled, happy, relieved and worried all at the same time. She begged him to go at once, but the blood pact weighed on him. As he worked on the chains, he was thinking.
"You know, Orlaith", he said, musingly, "that chick Credence found in the barn. What was it like again?"
The chains were almost choking her now. In presence of someone who could break them, they started killing her slowly, squeezing her throat.
"Well", she hissed, "it was small. Smaller than a chicken baby. Dark brown, with some spots. Interesting, green eyes, very uneven green".
"And the spots - golden?"
Something snapped. Orlaith already thought it was her own artery. The lack of oxygen made her dizzy, two Dumbledores floating in front of her. As she saw one golden little snake on the floor, she took a deep breath of air.
Albus was shaking his hand, like it burnt.
"Yes, pale golden", she said, touching her neck and feeling a scar with her fingers. "Why?"
The next chain, feeling its sister defeated, started crushing her ribs, and Professor rushed to disenchant it.
"Um... well... I'm thinking. You're right about Credence being uncharacteristically strong to whithstand an obscurial for so many years and even stay sane. It does mean very old and powerful blood".
"Don't tell me he's a Peverell", she squealed. One of her ribs cracked, and Dumbledore cursed the chain several times.
"Ow, ow, ow, ow ow ow ow!"
Finally, it fell down, as well. She could feel magic running through her veins, bright purple, and blue, and red. All her body was shot through with the warmth of it - a feeling she hadn't appreciated before. Albus mended her rib.
"Why?" there was a curious smile on Dumbledore's face.
"Why what?" she panted.
"Not a Peverell", Albus smiled wider.
"Oh, you know. Wouldn't want to find out that I fell for my cousin".
He was gentle with her wrist chains, smirking.
"Oh, no. See, I think this wasn't a usual chick. I'm not sure though - but", it was obvious Albus was uncertain. He gave her a long look.
He was fussing with the third chain, muttering.
"What was it then?"
"If it has pale golden spots, and unevenly green eyes, it might just be a phoenix, and coincidentally, my brother had confided in me, not earlier than three months ago, that he had had a son".
Orlaith let the magic shoot down her limbs, busking in its welcoming tingle. The rest of the chains broke and fell off her. Dumbledore stood up, content that he had no need to kneel down now.
"Professor, you think he's a Dumbledore?"
"Not sure, but he might be. He's the right age. And you can stop calling me Professor".
She looked outside, where spring light glinted on the surface of the great lake. How the boy would have loved the sight of these peaceful mountains.
"My brother met this muggle-born girl in summer of 1899. He only decided to tell me now, because, well, Fawkes left him, all the while Newt brought news of an orphaned boy with obscurial. You know there had already been an obscurial in our family".
She nodded.
"And Aberfot thinks his son ended up in America? How did he become orphaned if he has a living father? How did you not know of his existence these twenty-seven years?"
He laid his firm but reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"All of those are good questions, Orlaith. But do answers really matter right now? If Aurelius Dumbledore is in Grindelwald's hands, we should throw all forces to get him out".
She nodded again, now, in agreement. She rememebered Credence wasn't big on all this philosophy. Aurelius wasn't.
"He only went because he was afraid that Grindelwald will figure out I have ancient magic".
Behind her, Albus sighed with his kind, wise sigh, and it sounded like a smile. Aurelius, she thought. Golden, like her.