By the time Newt returned, sorry hyppogriff in tow, with enough bruises on his skin to make him look nearly as frightful, Credence had become quite comfortable exploring all the environments of the suitcase. He seemed to be most drawn to the obscurial, which worried Newt a bit. He didn’t want Credence returning back to that state of chaotic, groundless emotion. But thankfully Credence remained human and the obscurial seemed almost soothed by his presence.
“Well,” he said, watching the obscurial waft and the human hunker in silent communion. “I see you two are getting along fine.”
“This is what I looked like?” asked Credence, more curious than disturbed. Without the fringe over his eyes, Newt could see they were quite soulful and expressive. “It’s not too bad.”
“No, or well, yes it rather is.” Newt rubbed the curls on his head. “Actually, you are the first person I’ve heard of ever to come back from such a state. It’s usually quite fatal. Which is why I’d prefer you to resist the temptation to return to it so much as you can.”
Credence looked thoughtful. “Mr. Graves said that only small children become them and that they died young soon after if they weren’t helped. He said that they were powerful wizards and witches who rejected their magic. I didn’t think that it was me. It couldn’t have been. I thought maybe I was daydreaming that I was special, magical, powerful. If that were so, maybe he’d … want me.”
Newt shuddered. Having a person like Grindelwald want you was not something he’d consider desirable, but he refrained in saying that because Credence looked horribly heartsick. So he deflected: “I can say with utter confidence you were meant to be an extremely powerful wizard.”
“Can I still become one?” Credence asked, he looked painfully hopeful. “Mr. Graves said that I was a squib.”
Newt snorted. “You definitely aren’t a squib. And yes, you will have to. I suppose I’ll need to find you a tutor, sooner rather than later.” The last was spoken more to himself than the Credence. For the first time, Newt felt a sickly wave of worry come over him. He couldn’t keep Credence hidden forever in his case. But who would teach an impossibility like Credence?
“Can’t you teach me?” asked Credence, confused.
Newt stared at him, horrified. “Me? I didn’t make it though school myself. I’d be a horrible teacher.”
“You seem really good at spells.”
“Well, yes — the ones I use and the ones I find important. But I’m not so good with theory or figures or tests. Or homework. Or following other peoples schedules. Or mornings. I’m positively terrible at mornings.”
Credence looked down at his shoes again. “Mother said that school put sinful ideas in peoples heads. That what I needed was to work hard and God would take care of me.”
“Your mother sounds positively dreadful,” said Newt without thinking.
“She was. That’s why I killed her.”
He said it so flatly, like he might have described throwing out a broken item, but Newt could see the shock in his eyes. Some horrors simply couldn’t be taken in at once, lest it push one over the edge of sanity. Newt knew better than to push at it. In time Credence would have to find some way to live with himself and what he’d done. From past experience Newt knew that was a whole lot harder once the numbness wore off.
Impulsively Newt grabbed Credence about the shoulders and pulled him into a quick hug. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure things out. “I won’t let you down.”
Re: newt/credence, credence accompanies newt- FILL 4/?
“Well,” he said, watching the obscurial waft and the human hunker in silent communion. “I see you two are getting along fine.”
“This is what I looked like?” asked Credence, more curious than disturbed. Without the fringe over his eyes, Newt could see they were quite soulful and expressive. “It’s not too bad.”
“No, or well, yes it rather is.” Newt rubbed the curls on his head. “Actually, you are the first person I’ve heard of ever to come back from such a state. It’s usually quite fatal. Which is why I’d prefer you to resist the temptation to return to it so much as you can.”
Credence looked thoughtful. “Mr. Graves said that only small children become them and that they died young soon after if they weren’t helped. He said that they were powerful wizards and witches who rejected their magic. I didn’t think that it was me. It couldn’t have been. I thought maybe I was daydreaming that I was special, magical, powerful. If that were so, maybe he’d … want me.”
Newt shuddered. Having a person like Grindelwald want you was not something he’d consider desirable, but he refrained in saying that because Credence looked horribly heartsick. So he deflected: “I can say with utter confidence you were meant to be an extremely powerful wizard.”
“Can I still become one?” Credence asked, he looked painfully hopeful. “Mr. Graves said that I was a squib.”
Newt snorted. “You definitely aren’t a squib. And yes, you will have to. I suppose I’ll need to find you a tutor, sooner rather than later.” The last was spoken more to himself than the Credence. For the first time, Newt felt a sickly wave of worry come over him. He couldn’t keep Credence hidden forever in his case. But who would teach an impossibility like Credence?
“Can’t you teach me?” asked Credence, confused.
Newt stared at him, horrified. “Me? I didn’t make it though school myself. I’d be a horrible teacher.”
“You seem really good at spells.”
“Well, yes — the ones I use and the ones I find important. But I’m not so good with theory or figures or tests. Or homework. Or following other peoples schedules. Or mornings. I’m positively terrible at mornings.”
Credence looked down at his shoes again. “Mother said that school put sinful ideas in peoples heads. That what I needed was to work hard and God would take care of me.”
“Your mother sounds positively dreadful,” said Newt without thinking.
“She was. That’s why I killed her.”
He said it so flatly, like he might have described throwing out a broken item, but Newt could see the shock in his eyes. Some horrors simply couldn’t be taken in at once, lest it push one over the edge of sanity. Newt knew better than to push at it. In time Credence would have to find some way to live with himself and what he’d done. From past experience Newt knew that was a whole lot harder once the numbness wore off.
Impulsively Newt grabbed Credence about the shoulders and pulled him into a quick hug. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure things out. “I won’t let you down.”