Having spent three months imprisoned by an insane and evil wizard, Percival had had worse starts to the day than this one. But he woke with a headache, his body aching from phantom pains - the cruciatus curse left its mark long past when it might be expected to ease. It took a moment to recall where he was, and a look to his door showed that last night he had been even more enthusiastic with the warding than normal. As he stood from the bed he remembered the reason why.

The No-Maj rent boy from last night. If he had any luck, the boy would have taken the silverware and scarpered. He dressed, and then found the spare wallet he kept in his desk, full of No-Maj money so that he could buy food and other essentials. He took out all of the notes. There was enough there to pay for a good room for a month, and enough left over for the boy to get himself some much needed warm clothing and new shoes. He put the money in his pocket - it would be gauche to walk out holding the notes.

Then he opened the door, and froze. The damn boy was still there.

Not only that, but there was a plate of food at the table, and he was kneeling beside the chair. Only one plate of food. Percival walked out of the room, wondering if he should dismiss the boy.
"Thank you for breakfast." He said simply, trying to decide how to ask the boy to leave.
"You're welcome Mister Graves." The No-Maj answered. "I hope... I hope you like it."

"You didn't make yourself any."
"I can eat once you've gone to work sir." The No-Maj said, and Percival inwardly cursed at the thought of Grindelwald having hired the boy for more than the night. Unless he meant when they left the house. That would be the safer option. He nodded, taking his seat, and casting a few quick charms over the food to ensure it wasn't poisoned. He paused.
"Do you want to take the other chair?"

The boy didn't answer or move, and Percival reached out to stroke his hair for a second, running his fingers through the frankly hideous haircut before coming to his senses and moving his hand away. He began to eat. The food was good at least. He put a rasher of bacon and one piece of toast onto the bread plate, then passed it down to the young man.

"Thank you Mister Graves." He said, and he sounded so worshipful that it made Percival's skin crawl.
"How much?" He asked. The sooner he paid and got rid of the boy, the better.

The boy didn't answer for a moment, devouring his food as though he hadn't eaten for a week. When the plate was empty and still no answer came, he repeated the question.
"How much?"

"I'm sorry Mister Graves. I don't understand."
"How much do I owe you?"
"You already gave Ma the contribution for the care of the children sir." The boy said.

"What's your name?" Percival asked. There was something wrong, and it was bothering him that this No-Maj knew more about him and what his money had been spent on than he did.
"Credence sir. Credence Graves." The No-Maj said, and he sounded so broken as he said it that Percival froze, his breakfast threatening to make a sudden reappearance. The No-Maj shuddered and cowered, dipping his head lower, curling into himself. "I... I left the certificate on your chair sir."

Percival turned to his favourite arm chair by the fire, and saw a piece of parchment resting innocently on the seat. He picked it up, and stared in horror. Not only had the man stolen his face and name, he had done this... pure fury bubbled up inside of him, and he only just fought down the urge to scream or punch something. He picked the certificate up and turned to him.
"I have to go to work." He said, fighting to keep his voice level. It wasn't the No-Maj boy's fault. He could deal with this, get rid of him and they could forget. He left the house and disapparated on the doorstep.

***

Credence watched his husband storm from the room in horror. He had been so hopeful. The morning had been going well. He had cooked better than he had expected for his first attempt in this new kitchen, and his husband had even given him a little to eat, something he was grateful for after being starved on the man's own orders. He had not been expecting toast and bacon to be his first meal, but he was glad for it, and his husband had smiled at the food.

Then something had gone wrong. He didn't know what it was, couldn't understand why the man had reacted so angrily to him reminding him the account was already settled. But he had done something terrible. He tried to remember what he had been told. Ma had only allowed him glimpses of the list his husband had provided, not wanting him to be too reliant on the paper when he should have it memorised. But he had sinned. His husband had left the house in anger, and when he returned Credence would be punished.

He was exhausted by the fear that had begun the previous night. When his husband returned, he knew he would be punished. His husband had been clear that serious infractions would merit serious pain. For now, he would try and play the part of an obedient and submissive husband, clean the house, tidy things away and make everything acceptable for Mister Graves' return. He didn't know how severely he would be beaten afterwards, and he didn't want to fall behind on the housework if he was too injured to stand.

He started by washing the plates and breakfast things, leaving them to dry before he started to wash the kitchen surfaces, then explored the rest of the house to prioritise jobs. He didn't step into his husband's bedroom, but the rest of it he looked through to see what he would need to do. There were a lot of books, and his husband had an office, but that door was locked and gave him a static shock when he touched it.

"Sorry." He whispered to the door, then decided his first priority would be to clean the bathroom. He wouldn't have his husband thinking he was lazy while he was away. Maybe if he did enough, it would mitigate whatever sin he had committed at breakfast.