#grindelwald x credence

[donniexv]

☆ FANTASTIC BEASTS ; Will we die? Just a little

NEWT SCAMANDER ;

" My philosophy is that worrying means you suffer twice. "

⥼ ✖

THESEUS SCAMANDER ;

" Well, of course. Now everythingg makes sense. "

⥼ ✖

LETA LESTRANGE ;

" You never met a monster you couldn't love. "

⥼ ✖

PORPENTINA GOLDSTEIN ;

" I know that you've suffered.. "

⥼ ✖

QUEENIE GOLDSTEIN ;

" People are easiest to read when they're hurting, "

⥼ ✖

JACOB KOWALSKI ;

" I don't think I'm dreaming... I ain't got the brains to make this up.. "

⥼ ✖

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE ;

" Funny how historic days seem so ordinary when you're living them. "

⥼ ✖

GELLERT GRINDELWALD ;

" Who does this law protect? Us? Or them? "

⥼ ✖

AURELIUS DUMBLEDORE ;

" Do you know what its like to have no one? To always be alone. "

⥼ ✖

NAGINI ;

" He knows what you were born as, not who you are "

⥼ ✖

[princess-of-thebes-1995]

"My poor baby wants a baby inside of her?" Grindelwald teasingly cooed to you as if he was speaking to a child. He read your thoughts when you saw a woman and her newborn son while walking at the park with Grindelwald. 

The older man seemed to get an idea and was thrilled. He acted more like a brute when he pounced inside of you. The quiet room echoed his skin slapping against your thigh skin. You were mad that you cannot even think! You lost all freedom thanks to your kidnapper.

An elderly man from a magical world kidnapped you and raped you then told you he will marry you. A stranger. 

…………

"Sir, she is still not pregnant." A healer checked your womb. Grindelwald clicked his teeth in annoyance. He dismissed the healer. You flinched when you saw Grindelwald throw items across and punch the wall.

"I think you're sterile." That caused the elderly man to tense and he spun around to face you. He chokes you hard. He didn't say anything but stared at you down. 

He then removed his belt. 

Grindelwald clutched his face. He was in his study alone. He is in his late fifties. He wants kids now. He knew you want babies later since you are only nineteen. But, he is not as young as you. Even if he gets babies later with you. He will die of old age when they are new adults. He wants to see at least one grandchild. 

Grindelwald ran a hand through his Gray streaked hair. Is he old and senile?

Grindelwald had to leave. Another damn auror tried to arrest his men. While you were alone, you saw Credence come in. Your lover. He wasted no time to run to you and kiss you. You gently clutched his hair and he grabbed your face to kiss you hard. 

"I heard the master wants a baby." 

You rolled your eyes. But, Credence painfully parted from you.

"He is not young to produce." Your lover stroked your legs. "I can help."

Your eyes widened.

"I  will die soon from my illness anyway. I want you to always remember me."

You gasped. You did everything either Credence but intercourse. Are you willing to endanger your life for his happiness? Credence has done so much for you. Will you pay him back for his kindness?

[gulnarsultan]

Reader being yandere aberforth dumbledores wife and mother of Yandere!Credence Barebone /Aurelius Dumbledore .

This request excited me. Feel free to write requests for more HP and Fantastic Beats. I hope you will like it.

~ You may have met Aberforth during school. Or maybe your paths crossed somehow. Whatever the case, your destiny is sealed with Aberforth.

~ It won't be long before you stay with Aeborforth as a lover. He will propose marriage in a short time. She insists that you become a housewife after marriage.

~ Aberforth is an overprotective man towards his family. He has lost his family once and cannot lose a second time. Aberforth doesn't really let you leave the house. You are allowed to leave the house with you.

~ Aberforth does no physical harm to you. Will use psychological and emotional manipulation. Guilt is the biggest weapon. His children will use you to keep you obedient. He never harms his children. He tries to be the best father for them.

~ You have two children with Aebrforth. Your first child is your son Aurelies / Credence and your daughter Airanna. Your children are the pride and joy of your life.

~ Aberforth is reluctant to send children to Hogwarts. Especially about your son Aurelies /Credence. He will choose to train him at home so that no one finds out that he is an Obscurus.

~ Dumbledore doesn't come as a guest often. Maybe he doesn't know about you. Even if he knows about it, Aberforth won't let him see you much.

~ Aberforth will enable your son to develop yandere tendencies towards you . It will support your son's inclinations to fill his place when you are not at home.

~ Your son is very afraid of you leaving them. He thinks that one day you will think he is a freak. That's why it's your important duty to reassure and support him.

~ You love your children very much. You love your husband too. You choose to remain silent even if you disapprove of your husband and son's inclinations. You would never think of leaving them.

~ Your son is as protective of you and his sister as his father. He doesn't want any harm to come to you. He is bluffing to prevent you from going out and communicating with others.

~ If Dumbledore or anyone else points out these trends and says something about them being stopped, they'll be furious. Both will prevent them from approaching you again. They don't want them to cloud your mind.

~ Your son doesn't believe anyone else in his family, especially you, would really love him. She doesn't want to lose her only mother. He can't stand to have his family taken away.

~ Your son always comes to you for reassurance, love, affection and attention. You are his indestructible stronghold on which he leans. When he is afraid or sad, he finds solace in your arms.

~ Aberforth and your son will not hesitate to torture and kill for you. They are not afraid to cross boundaries for their families.

[herwold]

Nagini (fantastic beasts) - moodboard

[keepmeinmind-01]

which of these fantastic beasts ships do you think would actually work out pretty well

[werezmastarbucks]

black

part one - Golden

part two - Silver

part four - Green

credence barebone x fem!OC

Then he said to me: "The greatest thing you'll ever learn is to love and be loved in return"

warnings: language

word count: 9056

music: awakening the forest by everrune, fireproof by the national, strange birds by birdy, this will make you love again by iamx, the spirit dragon by mordela morana, ocean rose by tim janis

She mostly spent her days crying and nights, hunting. As she watched the baby run around in vivarium, she realized that the better Qilin felt, the less of Credence there was. Still, this was an exchange on a different plane of reality for her. She couldn't imagine betraying this creature, not even for Credence. This didn't mean he didn't matter. Orlaith needed everything to fall right into place.

Since their last meeting two months have flown by, and Dumbledore's promise of changes within a month might have been just a ploy after all. Grindelwald's acolytes didn't have it easy in the woods. They died in such numbers that it was time for the Lord to get concerned, but apparently, he had other business to attend to, and never showed up. Orlaith was ready to fight him, messy or not; the earth was on her side. As May came, the powers returned to the nature, and it woke up. She was teaching animals to fight back. She was training defense spells on whoever she happened to meet at the Forest in the wrong hour. Speaking of criminals, of course.

Orlaith decided, while she was obediently waiting to Dumbledore's attack! to get the matters in order. Especially she wanted to apologize to Matilda something-porne for her unfriendly demeanor.

She's been to the castle more or less reguralry, with all the baby walks, but rarely in the daylight. As the warm May wind dried everything up, and healed some of her soul, the road to Hogwarts also was made better, without deep pools of water and heaps of dirty leaves. One day, as the baby still slept, Orlaith escaped the house and flew for the castle. On a broom; it was finally warm enough. She flew fast, like she used to; watching the glimmering water below her, rippling with the glimpses of sunlight. The castle stood in front of her an unpenetrable mass. She even flew around it a couple of times, feeling the wind in her hair, trying to stop herself from thinking she could pull quidditch. The field stood, undisturbed, with its flags, bannerols and tabards fluttering in the wind. The world was laughing happily, again for the coming summer. The summer that awaited everyone, no matter where. She had no idea that even at Nurmengard, where the severe weather always held, the ice broke off from the rocks, and the winds ceased just a little, letting the warm air gather. Which made the Lord incredibly concerned at last.

She flew through the hallways of the castle like she was a fifth-year student; gathering surprised looks with her bright hair, and the flowers in it, and with her colorful dress. The poor pupils had still to wear the black uniform, and she looked like a ghost in flesh, unhinged. Children were preoccupied with the exams, drawing near, inevitable. That was one of the things she missed about studying.

She actually encountered the Headmaster himself, as he was pondering at the portrait of a naked hag on a broomstick, flying over a village at night. The moon was yellow in that painting, the witch's hair was obsidian black. She smiled coyly at everyone who looked at her.

"Oh, greetings, Peverell".

Orlaith sometimes couldn't express how proud, refreshed and excited it made her feel, when someone called her that.

"I'm thinking about removing Bella from this corridor".

She gave a look to the witch, who waved in return.

"Are the boys getting too agitated?"

"You have no idea. Always sheer commotion at this exact spot", he turned to her, adjusting his little reading glasses and examining her appearance.

"Isn't this whole summer look too immodest for studies?"

"I have graduated, Headmaster. Under Black".

"Headmaster Black. But didn't he make it known on your graduation certificate, that your results were satisfactory at best, and you ought to still catch up even after?"

"My results were excellent, Headmaster", she forced herself not to laugh, "Black just hated me because I didn't call him Headmaster".

"Headmaster Black".

He shook his head, closing his eyes.

"So, are you still studying, or not?"

"Not anymore, Headmaster".

"But I hear you've been practicing in the woods. Again".

His stern stare made her rise on her tiptoes.

"Uh... yes?"

"Without supervision? A witch of your abilities would act unwisely if she elected to train her duelling skills against the actual criminal, pugnacious enemy".

"Would you like to join me, Headmaster? I think I've located a specific hollow where they think it's absolutely comfortable to plot invisibly. Have you got my owl, by the way? Was Professor Dumbledore made aware of Grindelwald's alliance present so near the school?"

Dippet brushed her off.

"No Grindelwald acolytes have been to Hogwarts yet, thanks to you. Why bother anybody else with it?"

She bid goodbye to him, leaving the wizard next to Bella. If he is so sinile now, she thought, what happens in thirty years' time?

She reached North Tower without other adventure and found the rope ladder hanging suggestively. She shoved her head into the class and looked around.

"Professor?" she didn't want to let her know that she didn't remember her last name.

There was shuffling behind the door, then, Matilda showed up, in a purple trapezoid dress with long, light sleeves.

"Hello?"

"Do you remember me? I'm a Peverell you'd been looking for. We met at Hogsmeade and you gave me a prophecy, and I was rude to you".

Her eyes lit up with recognition.

"Ah, yes! Come in".

She climbed up and found herself in the Divinations class. Of course, with every new teacher the interior always changed, but this time, little to nothing seemed different. There were still crystal balls and books neatly placed on the shelves. The flying candles were now without fire, sleeping. Some empty cages were on the tops, aimless. Maybe it was more purple, understandably.

Matilda offered her a coffee, and they sat at the round table in the middle of the room.

"Were you any good at this subject while you studied?" Professor asked curiously as they made it half through their drinks.

"Complicated. I happen to be a kind of a prophet", she confessed, "but in all the wrong places. Very often, when I needed to glance into the crystal ball, I saw instead what I already knew would happen".

Matilda looked at her knowingly.

"Where have you travelled from?"

"Far away", she nodded. She suddenly felt warm, she realized, she'd underestimated this woman. Matilda didn't ask too many questions, but was politely inquisitive.

"Was it in the form of dreams, or visions?"

"Books", she replied. Matilda was impressed, although, Orlaith always felt sad when she needed to talk about it. The sight of an empty house on the autumn street flooded her head every time. The house she'd left, without saying goodbye.

"So, Professor", she decided to lead the conversation away while it was comfortable, "you told me not to prevent the tree from growing. Have you, maybe, got any more insight into that?"

The soothsayer clicked her bracelets on both hands.

"I'm sorry, but no. The initial message, too, was very foggy, uneven. It looked like something that could be changed, or, on the opposite, set in stone".

"Future can't be set in stone", she argued, "I've already changed it".

"Well. Do you want to try for yourself? If we ask the right questions, maybe you'll understand more".

She nodded. They put away the cups: luckily, Matilda didn't suggest reading the future on coffee grains. She draped the windows quickly and moved one of the crystal balls towards them.

"This is the one where I saw it first. I'm sorry, only I can use it".

"That's fine", Orlaith consented. Matilda touched the ball tenderly, like it was a baby calf. Orlaith thought of her own, sleeping at home. She might have already awaken. But she never got scared when she was alone; she just waited for her in the kitchen, where it smelt the best.

"What do you want to ask?" Matilda offered, looking inside. To Orlaith, the ball looked absolutely transparent.

"Don't prevent the tree from growing. What did it mean?"

There was silence as Matilda peered inside.

"A boy. Dark-haired, thin, very pale, he looks lost. He's alone... do you know him?"

"Credence. What about him?"

Matilda shrugged.

"It's just him. I'm sorry. You know the spirits won't just explain everything to you in detail. The veil is heavy, and it's not easy to hear through".

"I understand", she mused. Matilda looked at her with compassion.

"You look like a person who's had a lot of fights to carry these flowers in your hair".

"I'm about to have more".

Something caught Professor's eye as she moved back to the ball.

"Oh. Oh!" she gave Orlaith a look of amazement, "why are you keeping a Qilin at home?"

Ice-cold fear touched the back of her neck.

"What about it?"

"Someone wants to take it".

She all but stumbled down from the rope-ladder. Damn forbidden zone of the castle, she needed to run so much to even get to the territory where she could fly, to say nothing about apparating! Her breath in her throat, Orlaith told herself that prophecies weren't immediate; and that, in fact, of course anybody would want to take Qilin away. If they knew it existed. Newt made sure nobody, but them four, knew about it. Stairs after stairs she flew, knocking off students and rubbing against the corners; finally, she was in the yard.

"Accio broom!" she screamed, and soon, her broomstick was racing to her with pleasant whooshing through the air. Jumping up, she only made it as far as the field outside, and she disapparated immediately. Then, another course of running through Hogsmeade. Nobody could know where it was, no one, if only Aberfort hasn't lost the match. As she reached the house, her chest was stabbing with pain, knees giving in. She turned the key in the lock and threw the door open.

Qilin was lying on the sofa at the back of the kitchen. Upon seeing her, the baby got down and trotted towards her, happy.

She fell on the floor, hugging the creature. She was trembling.

"I love you. I love you so much, baby, you know I love you".

Just to be sure, she checked the second floor and the wardrobe, and used revealing charms. Nothing came of it which was good. The feeling of unease wouldn't let go though. She felt paranoid. She didn't know what, something still hovered above her. She tried to think what Matilda told her, and made no more of it.

The rest of the day she was just cleaning, letting the birds in, to play with the baby, and feeding cats outside. It was a good day, and she dreamed to take the Qilin to the field, but it was impossible. Evening came, and she decided to go at least to vivarium, the one where she had the ocean, to let the baby play in the water. She put on her evening cloak and made it upstairs to pick up the Invisibility Cloak. Qilin looked a bit tired, so, she was in two minds.

Then someone knocked on the door.

That was not normal. Even understanding it was Aberfort, she felt unhappy. What might have happened that he came himself instead of sending an owl?

Orlaith came downstairs with her wand in her hand, just in case. Waited for another knock, but it didn't come.

She walked up to the door and listened. One time. They knocked just once, scaring her.

She said to herself, you. You, Orlaith, are the Cutter, the Witch. Are you going to be afraid of a guest at your door?

She opened it and stepped back to have better swinging ability.

It was Credence.

Something felt heavy and tragic. Against the homely fire and the light of the house, he looked like a ghost. Still the same face, but white, with blacker eyes than ever. Without a smile, it was mocking her. Orlaith thought he really was a ghost, sent by Grindelwald to break her, and it meant that Credence was dead. He looked like he was resurrected with the Stone.

He stepped into the house quietly, closing the door behind him.

"Hello Orlaith", he said gently.

"What are you doing here?"

It was really him, but very, very barely.

She noticed he had his wand out, too. She instinctively stood her back against the set of stairs where, above, in the bedroom, the baby was already lying in her little bed.

He looked up through the ceiling.

"How did you find my house?"

"Just like I penetrated the dome at the pond", he replied, "I seem to sniff you out easily, even when you try to stay hidden".

She swallowed a scream.

"Credence..."

"I know what you have here. I need it".

She put out her hand and stopped him from coming closer.

"You can't have her".

"When Grindelwald found that another Qilin survived, he was very unhappy with me".

There was something very off with the way Credence spoke; maybe it was already difficult for him. Orlaith felt her ugly helplessness in her throat.

"He told me if I don't get this baby, he'll kill me".

She had to bend her arm because he was now standing closer already. She clutched his shoulder.

"I can't", she whispered, "I'm so sorry. I can't let you have her".

Credence lowered his head to meet her eyes.

"You said you wouldn't give up on me".

And nothing more. If he shouted, blamed her, that would be easier. Credence took the first step of the stairs, moving her with his body. Orlaith clutched on the banister, trying to push on his shoulder, but he was surprisingly strong. There was feverish glint in his eyes. He only looked whithered; in reality, although the obscurial already shone through him, in temples, cheekbones and knuckles, Credence stood is ground very firmly.

"You'll need to kill me, my love", she said. Her head was bowed, his breath on her forehead. She tried to push him as hard as she could, but there was no strength in her limbs.

"I will".

She felt his arm going down with his wand, and their fists touched.

"Look at me".

She raised her eyes.

"Trust my rage".

In a moment something struck her. His eyes expressed nothing, could not. She realised, if Credence has discovered her location, Grindelwald must know it, too. His wand crisscrossed with hers, giving it a light shove. Then he jumped back to the door, and they pointed at each other.

A couple of non-verbal spells met in the air, exploding in fiery flashes. She stepped up to have a better aim and shot, trying to get him; but every spell, Credence broke mid-air, sending one in return. Orlaith ducked, allowing an orange curse bash a hole in the wall behind her. Credence stepped closer, and she forced him to retreive, showering him with superficial blinding curses. He ran deeper into the kitchen, and she followed. Wondering what she is supposed to do next. One, two, three, five, ten curses, bouncing off of each other. They fought symmetrically, guessing each other's movements as they went.

"You'll need to kill me", Credence said, standing in the destroyed kitchen, among the shreds of wood.

"No!"

Credence tilted his head like he was annoyed. She recognized the mist appearing around him, and jumped back as he started to turn into a black cloud of shadow and fire.

"No!"

She ran upstairs. Qilin was trembling in her bed, looking up at her for help as she stumbled next to it.

"You'll be alright, baby, you'll be fine".

She could feel the floor vibrating under her feet as the cloud grew. The obscurial moved with a howl that sounded like a thousand tortured voices. All of those voices belonged to Credence.

She reached for the Invisibility Cloak lying on the bed, holding the baby with the other hand. She just managed to grab it with the tips of her fingers when the swirl of chaos crashed the floor and sucked her inside.

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Aberfort ran like he has never run in his life. He ran and ran through the valley, forgetting he could apparate closer to the gates of Hogwarts. He has completely forgotten he was a wizard, for the first time in his life. He was just human now, running through the heavily scented fields of lupins, skimmias and rapseeds; towards the castle that shone brilliantly above the dark sleeping lake. In the middle of May, Hogwarts celebrated almost every day to prepare students to the rough season of exams. By the time Aberfort finally made it to the gates, it was almost midnight; many teachers have already gone to bed, to say nothing about students. He thundered into the hall, then made it towards the stairs. He was looking for his brother.

He was lucky and knew it as Albus usually went to sleep extremely late. At ten minutes past midnight, he was still in his office, not a sign of exhaustion on his face, in his white and silver jacket, writing something at his desk. However, as he heard heavy steps from the outer class, he was ready for the visitor.

If Aberfort was a horse, he'd be covered in foam.

"She's gone", he panted with a wheeze. Albus got up to his feet.

"They're gone. Aurelius... he found them".

They apparated right to the bridge leading into Hogsmeade. It was even faster than taking the secret tunnel into the Honeydukes. As they ran through the streets, Albus held his brother by the forearm, not to let him fall. Finally, the eastern side of the village was less lit than the center. That's why they chose this house for her. From the distance, Albus could already see the shambles of the dwelling, in the place where the house used to be.

"No, it's not supposed to look like that..." he uttered. They approached hurriedly and Albus sent several Lumos light balls to hover above. The breath was caught in his throat. Something wasn't adding up. Someone betrayed them. He turned to his brother, grabbing him by the collars.

"Where's the match, Aberfort?" he shook him well to stop his eyes from rolling around in their sockets.

"It's here!" Aberfort roared. As he reached for his pocket to demonstrate it. "Here!"

"Did you tell him? Through the mirror?"

"No! He doesn't speak to me, almost never!"

He was gasping for air, thinking, intensely. Something wasn't adding up.

He used the revealing charm to try to peek into what happened here, but the house had been protected too well. It meant, Credence managed to get inside even while the dome still stood. How? If even a Dumbledore spell did not let him see what was transpiring here in the last moments before the explosion.

"Go, send an owl to Newt, gather everyone immediately", he said. Aberfort was panting like a dog. He wasn't tired anymore, but tearing apart. Albus barely thought about how he must be feeling, knowing that his son is in the middle of this.

He stood there for a couple of minutes, deliberating. Then he turned and walked back, towards the bridge.

In fifteen minutes' time everybody was gathered at his office. Newt was the most panicked, understandably. His old ticks were coming out as he paced around. Albus wished Theseus supported his brother a little, even just to stop him from being a moving target. Eulalie was intently watching something on his desk, as she always did when thinking. Her lips moved a little as ideas rushed through her brain. Bunty was staring at Albus, completely lost. She also looked like she blamed him. Jacob collapsed into the chair with red draping, gazing in front of himself, mouth slightly agape. Albus wondered if the muggle had lost his mind.

"Alright", he clapped his hands, and Bunty jumped with surprise.

"Let us not deviate from hope".

"How?!" Theseus exclaimed. "We've just lost both our magical creature and our most powerful asset".

Newt sighed like all life left him.

"Bunty, will you please, give Newt a chair", Albus asked softly. She hurriedly took the zoologist by the arm and led him to sit him down next to the desk.

"How could he have done that", Jacob murmured. "I thought he was... on our side".

"He had joined Grindelwald last year", Eulalie reminded.

"He only did that to protect Orlaith", Newt replied slowly. His eyes were teary.

"Here's the thing I don't understand", Albus said. "There are no bodies and no blood".

Aberfort shrugged.

"He obviously turned. He might have just dissolved them both completely. And died, too".

Theseus was rocking in place.

"The question is", Eulalie said suddenly, "what we do right now. Election is in a week". She looked at Albus intently. He nodded.

"We do what we planned. Everything stays the same.

"But we don't have the Qilin", Newt squealed. Finally, Theseus approached him, and patted him on the shoulder, his hand stiff. That was an endearing gesture from him.

"Grindelwald might not know it. If he had sent Credence to pick up the second baby, and Credence died on the spot, he never gets it, either. We go with the suitcases anyway and see what happens".

"That's barely a plan, Dumbledore".

"The plan was not to have a plan at all", Albus retorted.

"And when we're up there?" Theseus asked. "And we don't have the second Qilin to show people that Grindelwald had been lying?"

"We fight. We do our best to shower him and his acolytes, and we move on as we can".

There was a collective sigh.

The room was sad, divided. The candlelight was dying slowly below the ceiling. Something didn't add up.

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The morning of election was cloudy, a bit cold for a June. The clouds swarmed the sky, promising a storm that would rock the land. Cold winds stabbed the earth and the village, and people, dressed too lightly for this uncharacteristic weather, were bundling themselves tighter in their colorful cloaks. In the middle of the square, where the stairs were leading up towards the Election Podium, was much hotter, the wind unnoticed. People hurdled, crowded, pushed and pulled, paced and yelled their happy slogans, chanting, organizing in separate, orange, red and green groups. Then, on the stairs, the wind ferociously attacked again, tearing the hats from the heads, flapping skirts around the legs, slapping magicians on the faces. A butterfly was struggling to fly up. In this howling vortex of cold air, it flapped its wings with fading strength, thrown around by the gusts of it; the desperate attempts almost paid off as it managed to fly up and up slowly, gradually, while there, on the top of the stairs, the dramatic revelation has already begun. Someone managed to catch it carefully in unclosed fist, and put the butterfly just behind the layer of their black and white striped blanket serving as a coat against the wind. Inside, finally in the warmth, the butterfly landed on a wet, little nose and looked around. A strange creature looked at it back and cooed soflty.

Up there, on the wide round place, Albus Dumbledore locked his eyes with Gellert Grindelwald. The green fireworks were exploding in the air, shattering the sky, as Gellert's face was being translated into all the magical sanctuaries where people watched. He was now the new leader of the magical world.

Newt was wriggling in Mr Pewdence's hands, trying to liberate his working hand. He looked at Eulalie quickly, asking, now what? She stood not far from him, equally guarded, but she wouldn't let them grab her shoulders. Jacob laid on the ground, his face white like snow, a thin trickle of blood dripping from his nose.

There was a soft snap characteristic for apparition. A couple of gasps later, people divided, and a figure stepped up from the last higher steps, towards Grindelwald. He was frail, dressed in all black, his hair covering his face almost completely.

He locked eyes with Grindelwald whose nostrils flared from how livid he became.

"So", he said quietly, "you're alive".

Aberfort shook in his place, his feet scratching the stone, but Albus garbbed him.

Credence said nothing but looked at the wizard for a couple of seconds. Then he raised his wand, slowly, and gently moved it in the air. From the tip of the wand, streams of red smoke flew up towards the wizard and formed a huge word, visible enough for the translation, above his head.

L I A R

Gellert dismissed it with an impatient twitch on his hand.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

"He's lying to you!" Newt screamed. "This Qilin is dead! It's been resurrected through necromancy, it's corrupted!"

Rumble moved through the crowd, people swayed like one liquid body.

"Bring him here!" Grindelwald snapped. Newt was dragged in front of him, Dumbledore aware of every movement.

"Credence", he asked, as gently as he could. Credence turned his face towards his uncle, pale, with eyes full of hatred.

"Where's Orlaith?"

The boy smiled but said nothing.

Before getting to the zoologist, Grindelwald moved his attention to Credence again.

"You haven't only failed me, but also betrayed? You, who had been thrown out like garbage, a circus freak. I took you in. I gave you what you desired the most, your history. I gave you your name, Aurelius. I gave you a home. And now you're dying, and looking at me, for what? You dare to raise your eyes at me".

Credence was smiling. Not a single time either Newt, nor Albus has seen him smile. Gellert's spell was so quick that no one was in time to react; even Albus. He's been too preoccupied with the unrealistic oddness of this appearance. Credence himself fended it, with a wide movement, sending the red flash away, above people's heads. Albus noticed something extremely curious, familiar, about this movement, the hand outstretched recklessly. And the wand - he's seen this wand before. He's seen this wand, dragon core, seven inches, extremely stiff, red wood. A smile of disbelief curved his lips as he raised his own wand to protect.

"Where's the second Qilin?" he yelled, in the high, shrill voice, to raise the wave in the crowd. He stood a little behind Aberfort, who stared at him curiously.

"Show us the second one!"

"Yeah! Show us the second one!" someone picked up. Several voices demanded the same. Grindelwald smiled like a knife.

"There is no second Qilin. You see the only one, the real one, in front of you. All this", he motioned towards Scamander, kneeled before him, "is just a distraction".

Credence sat on the steps, supporting himself with one hand.

"Excuse me! Goddammit! Will you- hey, thank you!" there was another high-pitched voice, as if from someone very small - a child, or a female house elf. Crowd grumbled, preoccupied, and people were finally making a narrow corridor, to let them through. Another person, covered in a striped back and white blanket, was stumbling upwards on the stairs.

"Oh, the-" Orlaith's hand caught herself on the steps, "these stairs, fuck", she mumbled under her breath, her voice unusually high with exhaustion. From the blanket, a butterly flew out and disappeared in the milky sky.

"Are there... two hundred thousand of them, or something?"

"What is this?" thundered Grindelwald. He was losing patience. She threw the blanket off her shoulders. Orlaith held the Qilin baby in her hands, snuggled against her chest. She was wearing a black shirt, not unlike Credence's, and dark trousers. In all black, which Dumbledore hasn't seen her quite often, she looked ever more menacing. Her long ginger hair flew in the furious wind, like golden Celtic song. She stood straight for a second, but then bent forward, putting her free hand to her knees, panting from the running. Credence watched her attentively. She waved her hand, motioning them to wait.

"These fucking stairs!" she yelled in thin voice, but it cracked. She's never cursed that much, in front of people.

"This is precarious", Grindelwald said with finality. "This is a ploy".

Orlaith let the Qilin jump off her arms, and it trotted joyfully around, paying little to no attention to the chosen leader. It ran around in circles, enjoying the weather, as Newt looked at her with tears in her eyes. Albus, without breaking the gaze from Grindelwald, walked up to Orlaith and helped her to get up. She jerked, suddenly, as if she didn't expect his help.

"How are you holding up?" he whispered. Her gaze was stern as she only allowed him to take her by the shoulder and raise to her feet. She immediately stepped away, closer to Credence. He met her halfway.

Qilin, meanwhile, was making her way through the crowd, towards Santos. The noble witch kneeled before the animal, bowing her head low. People started forming a circle around Grindelwald as his face hardened. He saw that the Qilin had chosen, and his own, barely alive, infernally blue, was now wandering aimlessly at the edge of the platform, unused. He opened his mouth to say something poisonous at the wands ponting at him, but was interrupted.

"Ow! Ah!" Credence talked for the first time. His face was bubbling and he grabbed on it, searching support in Orlaith. She, too, was shaking, grimacing. In front of the amazed crowd, the two seemingly changed places, and Orlaith was now holding onto Credence, and Credence stood where she had stood before. He was the one who had saved the butterfly.

"Ha! The most amazing thing I'd seen in a long time!" Albus laughed. He was so relieved. Meanwhile, Gellert finally recognized the girl.

"You. I knew the chains had meant something".

"Oh", she grimaced, "shut up!"

There was a swirl of spells. Green, blue, orange flashes flew towards Gellert, and he fended them all. Orlaith pulled Credence a little at the side, seeing that he was on his last leg. He was very pale, although visibly holding on. She searched for Aberfot with her eyes. He was making his way to them, but with the pushing crowd, it wasn't easy. She noticed Credence was, although he stood on one knee, looking closely at Albus.

There was a pause in the shootout, as Gellert tried to voice towards the wizards. Albus was impatient, clutching his wand, but he could only fight the servants, not the lord. The chain was choking him.

"You know, I wish I had broken your chains", Credence muttered. Orlaith followed his gaze.

"Accio!" he screamed, in the last burst of energy. Everything seemed to slow down. She felt that, together, they were something more. In between the moving bodies, preparing to attack Grindelwald again, she could see the long silver chain with the blood-red-hearted vile sprung in the air. Dumbledore was pulled along with it, barely keeping himself on his feet. She aimed as well as she could, which was relatively new to her; she just usually shot in wide bursts, hoping to shatter as much as possible.

"Reducto".

Golden lightning flashed out of her wand for she was the Golden Witch. Credence felt her shining next to him, keeping him warm, as he let her lean on his shoulder for support. The spell, released by her, wasn't just a breaking curse. It was her ancient magic that made it incredibly strong. It was so strong that it could destroy the heartbreak, the betrayal, the sorrow. It crashed into the vile, and the little glass bottle exploded in the air.

Dumbledore was free.

Aberfort finally grabbed Credence and carried him ten steps away, holding him in his arms. Their fingers unclutched, and Orlaith moved her wand towards the dark wizard. Dumbledore's blue, and her golden curses flew towards him, as he twisted as best as he could to avoid being hit, dancing like a fencer. She saw some familiar faces, the faces that visited Hogwarts, fall, and stepped closer. Credence's shirt was far too big for her, so, she rolled her sleeves very quickly. That second she spent on it cost her a would on her neck, burning like hell. She rubbed the spot and focused again. Let the surge of magic of the earth itself thunder down on him. She put her wand up, and people stepped back, watching. Gellert locked eyes with her. She threw her hand down, and the pillar or purple fire engulfed him.

"Dumbledore!" she screamed, holding the trap. He wasn't easy to keep, actually. She could feel his pushback, and was horrified. Albus shot through the purple, curse after curse, and soon, the others joined. The howling mass of the pillar held Grindelwald as he was forced to his knees inside. He managed to break the curse with Protego Diabolica, from the third try, no less; by this moment Orlaith had redefined all she knew about her skills. She had never, she realized, met a wizard of such power, and her careless, insinctive use of ancient magic was only good with crooks. Otherwise, focus just wasn't enough to defeat someone so masterful. But the ring of fire grew, fighting the blue flames. She was getting exhausted quickly, feeling the supportive curses around, but the magic drained her for energy. Blue dragon was growing, consuming the purple fire, and her anger was the last thing that still held up. She thought of Credence. Credence, the boy she refused to let go of, dying ten steps away from her. Someone who never knew love and yet, sacrificed his little freedom for her, twice. His sculpted pale face with heavy, dark, intelligent eyes. The way he made her feel as his hand touched her neck softly, almost with fright. She screamed and pushed, she didn't even put any words to the blow. She just pushed Grindelwald as hard as she could, like a child would push another child on the playground. He flew up, picked up by the purple flash, and was thrown off the edge.

Suddenly, it was all quiet. People rushed towards the end of the platform to see, but he was gone. Maybe disintegrated in the fire, or maybe, disapparated in the air.

She bent and held onto her knees, like Credence, while he was parodying her. All was quiet for some time. Someone was scratching their head. Orlaith panted, looked up at the stormy skies, felt the June cold on her face.

"Alright, you were right. And Black was right, I need to learn more", she admitted to approaching Albus. He smiled like she knew he would always smile at children he protected.

"That was quite a spectacle".

"Is he gone?"

"Gone, yes, dead - unlikely".

He patted her on the shoulder lightly. His hand was scarred from the chain.

"Thank you for that, by the way. That was the most exquisit job from you two".

She turned around to look for Credence.

"They had disapparated. To Hogsmeade, I presume".

People were slowly gathering around her, dozens of curious eyes, which she didn't like. She realized the translation into sanctuaries and places of viewership was still happening.

"Can I... also go, please?" she asked, huddling closer to Professor. He embraced her by the shoulder, and she clutched on Newt, too, to shield herself. They both held her.

"Yes, let's go. And you'll need to tell me where the hell you have been".

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

A week ago, Credence landed himself, and Orlaith, with the Qilin, on top of the Astronomy Tower where she guided him. He swayed and fell on one knee because his head spun for a second. Orlaith collapsed, too, but managed to keep the baby in her outstretched arms. She quickly stood up and unfolded the Cloak.

"Are you alright? Credence?"

He took her hand and pulled himself up.

"Yes".

He was not. All his body was being bitten off by frost from his bones. The monster inside of him was raging, knapping. He couldn't lift his right arm. He let the night air soothe him a little, and then Orlaith threw the mantle over him. She stepped so close that he could see every freckle on her nose.

"What's that?"

"A family heirloom. You remember when Grindelwald - Graves - gave you that necklace? Doesn't matter. It's the Cloak of Invisibility".

He didn't ask where they were going, just looked around. He had to hold her around her waist not to let the Cloak slip off of his head. He found it uncomfortable and inappropriately fantastic. He couldn't even think while she was in his arms. In fact, the pain ceased just a little, and it became easier to breathe. He was staring around curiously as they sneaked down the winding stairs.

"Oh, so good it's the nighttime" she whispered, tickling his face with her hair. "No students".

He obeyed her motions, stopping when she stopped, and whispering to the baby when it made noises. Slowly, because they were both adults, and with a baby dragon deer, while the Cloak was designed for only one person - made their way to the lower level. Suddenly, Credence heard conversation. They stepped to the wall, the Qilin between them, two of their palms covering its mouth carefully and gently.

Two students in green ties were treading down the hallway. They stood still while the two boys passed, and then, after a while, Orlaith grumbled,

"Of course it's Slytherin".

And pulled him further.

Finally, they were standing in front of an empty, flat wall. She took the Cloak off and rolled in under her arm.

"What is it?" he asked.

She couldn't hide how excited she was all of a sudden.

"This, Credence, is the Room of Requirement. One of the most tremendous places in Hogwarts. Take my hand".

He complied happily. A rare bird, ghostly bird of freedom was flapping its wings in his chest. Excitement for magic, something unfamiliar to him before, contageously, travelled to him from her. For a moment, he wasn't aching, or tired, or on the run. He was just a boy, looking impatiently, in wonder, at the wall which was changing, transforming, into a door.

She pushed the door, and they entered a huge, light, spacious room with thick red carpet on the floor, with high, tall windows in the ceiling, through which the impossible daylight was flowing; the walls were covered in portraits of witches and banners of birds, and animals, and statues of incredible beasts were in every corner. It was warm here, safe, quiet. Something bubbled peacefully on the intricatly ornamented purple potion desk at the wall; it was an amazing place. In front of him, across the room, there was what looked like a greenhouse entrance, which glowed with white light. As Orlaith let the Qilin go, the baby immediately raced towards the entrance and, in the soft pearl glow, she disappeared inside.

"We're safe here. Not even Grindelwald can find us here, the Room is hidden deep inside the castle, and no one can acess it, who hadn't been inside before".

There were steps leading up onto a little balcony. On either side of it, on the platform, were doors. The left one had the same ethereal glow, but it was somehow bluer. On the other side, the door was most usual, but with a sign of a fairy on it.

"You can stay here. Hey, I'll go pick up dinner".

He drew a breath, still looking around.

"Is this all yours?"

"Well, the Room provides me with what I need. But I designed some of it", she nodded towards potion tabel and two botanic desks with some sort of yellow flowers growing.

"Can I... can I sit?" Credence motioned towards a big, dark-red armchair standing next to a bookcase.

"Of course. Of course, hey, do what you want here. This is going to be our home for the next week, I suppose. Are you hungry?"

He wasn't hungry, he was awashed with the feeling he couldn't put to words. Most likely it was savage, reckless hope. As Orlaith disappeared under the Cloak and left the room, he changed his mind against the armchair. He wanted to see what the gates were, and followed the Qilin.

When Orlaith returned, she found Credence in the vivarium, watching the baby play. She brought her dinner, too, and the beast started stuffing her face. She was growing, and ate all the time now. Orlaith munched on banana bread and had left some food for him in the room. She pulled on his hand, breaking his sunbathing in the field.

"Leave her be", she panted, with a smile, "I want to show you the ocean".

They left the first vivarium and took the stairs onto the balcony. Credence awed at how many books there were here. They entered the second glowing gate, and at first, he thought, he had another episode for there was noise in his head. Blinking in the white sunlight, he realized that it was the noise of the ocean. Grumbling pleasantly, licking on the sharp grey rocks, it was reaching its waves towards him. Orlaith was already running towards the water while he stood, and watched her. She threw herself in the water in her clothes like she was suffocating without it.

The sun did not recognize his white, paperthin skin. He felt out of place here, a black ink spot on this harmonious beach. But he walked on, he removed his shoes and felt the sand under his feet, and then walked into the water to make sure it felt real. It was amazing how he had been kept in a dark tower in the land of eternal winter, where iron bit him, and only ravens circled above the chasm below his windows, and suddenly he was saved. He was utterly saved, he was happy, his shoulders bending forwards, as his knees caved in. He sat in the sand and was silent, tasting the salt of the ocean. Orlaith joined him soon, water dripping from her.

"It looks and feels absolutely real, doesn't it?"

He asked himself if it has all been a dream.

"Does anybody leave here? Any animals?" he wondered.

"Only fish and very small crustaceans. And there, in the field, tiny beetles". She smiled. Her eyes were concerned, palpating his face. She gathered her hair into a bun. Credence looked at her neck and the sunbeams from her earrings on her skin.

She laid her head onto his shoulder, and they watched the waves until the sun started to roll across the water. The ocean was quietening, stepping back lightly, the shining changing from white to gold.

Several days have passed, and each day he was coming to the beach. There were cracks on his arms that wouldn't heal, the general weakness which he felt every day right in the morning. He knew what it meant, the boneache and the black visible through his skin. His body was only going to hold on long enough to go through with the plan which they now could finally discuss in detail.

In the bedroom, behind the door with the fairy sign, Orlaith slept in the bed to the left, with the baby curled at her side; and Credence slept in the right. In the evenings, days and mornings, they discussed what they would do. He watched Orlaith cutting the yellow and red flowers off the bushes with thin silver scissors; they dined in the next room where the narrow corridor led. In the oval shaped hall, the knight armour was displayed at the wall, and the banners: red, green, yellow, and blue. She explained that those were the four houses of Hogwarts, but Credence had already known about it. Grindelwald had told him a lot about Hogwarts, the place that Dumbledore had chosen over him. Still, he liked to listen to her as she spoke of Gryffindor. Most of the things in her Room were noble wine-red and orange, in the colors of her house. She said he would make the first Dumbledore who's destined for Slytherin. He asked why. She smiled like it was obvious. Your bravery is quiet, she said, and you're dark. You were right about it, you are dark, but your darkness is the darkness of the room where treasures are hidden. And you're smart, since you're reading my thoughts. In your pursuit of your name you almost turned over the mountains, and nothing could stop you. That makes you a Slytherin, the quiet menace, the undiscovered hero.

"And you're so dark-haired, you look like one", she shrugged. Credence found this playful categorisation entertaining.

"And what exactly makes you a Gryffindor?" he asked.

"Well, I'm super powerful".

He snorted right in his tea and apologized. Her smile turned into a laugh.

"You have- do you have any ancient magic by any chance?" he asked. "I don't think you've ever mentioned".

"That's what makes me a Gryffindor", she nodded, still laughing. "Dumbledore constantly tells me I'm too self-reliant and reckless. But it's really hard not to be, whent he earth itself helps you. Also, I'm a Peverell. All Peverells historically are Gryffindors, and they descend from the Gryffindor himself".

"The founder?"

"Uh-huh".

"But did you ever find who you were?" he remembered suddenly. He saw this question ruined her mood in an instance. She gave him an uneasy, doubtful glance. He got frightened.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

Instead, she moved closer to him as if she wanted protection.

"I never did, no. I'm occupying the name, the body of an Orlaith Peverell who lived in the sixteenth century. She was, it seems, a lot like me, so I guess, I grew into the persona. But..."

She looked at Credence with trusting eyes.

"I have come into this world after I died. But I was born elsewhere". She put her palms up on the table and observed them. Credence, out of habit, dared to touch them, and she didn't pull away.

"I was born in the world with no magic, no magic at all. Just the planet full of... muggles".

She said the last word almost with disgust.

"I don't remember what it is".

"A no-maj. As a child, I used to read books about magic, but it was so painfully unreal. I grew up with these stories about this magical child who defeated the dark wizard. He was born just like me, thinking he was usual, and then found that he was a powerful warlock. That was the most amazing thing that happened to me. As I was growing up, I got so hung on these stories, that I spent all my time in the countryside, in the woods, looking for the special door leading to the world of magic. And I couldn't find it". She was grim as she spoke, as if she was old. What if she was old?

"Then I became an adult and realized it had all been just a story. Just a product of imagination of a writer. In our world, Credence, we didn't have dragons, and broomsticks, and prophecies, no purple enchantments, no elves, no wizarding schools. Just.... work, buses, taxes, relationships. You get up every day and go to work, and then come back and watch TV... and then go to sleep at night and listen to the traffic".

Credence thought of this world as almost amazing. If he had been born to a place where magic didn't exist, perhaprs he wouldn't have been abandoned. He wouldn't have turned out like he did, he would be normal.

"So... that's how you know the future? You read about... us... in the books?"

"Yes. But everything is differen already. Because I didn't use to be in them".

He thought of the concept.

"The worst thing is that I started a family there".

He was taken aback.

"You... had a husband?"

Something like a thorn stung him in the stomach, phantom. Not the obscurial. Other type of pain.

"Yes. But the thing is, that life almost seems like a dream to me now. I forgot my name, or his, and I barely remember anymore... I think, with time, I'll start thinking that that muggle world was no more than a bad dream. A dream".

She looked at him.

"What if it was?" He mused, "just a long dream?"

She shrugged.

"Maybe. The view of the house doesn't seem to leave me. It was autumn, I died in September. I know I left them behind, and I feel... so awful".

He was shaken to his core. He wasn't sure even Grindelwald heard about things like that. There had to be some meaning to her having ancient magic now. She didn't look like a muggle at all, not even in her previous life. He witnessed her lower her shoulders.

"I'm sorry".

"I would not go back", she said quietly, "even if the hellhounds dragged me by my ankles".

They let the thought soar onto the soft carpet.

"Well", she let her hand snake onto his chest and felt for his watch in the pocket. Credence was still getting used to that. He would stay in place, not a muscle move in his body, in concern that she could be scared off. All the while sweat breaking onto his neck from expecting a blow.

"It's late, and tomorrow's the Day", she clicked the watch closed and gave it back to him, "I'll go wash in the river". He nodded, strange feeling of readiness in him. He knew this could be very well the last evening of his life.

Orlaith was thinking about the next morning. They had already decided how they would apparate, how they could avoid being tracked while travelling. And what they would do. Late evening light in her impeccably realistic vivarium made the air relatively cold for the skin straight out of the river. As she walked out onto the grass and picked up he robe, she saw Credence at the gate. She jumped, putting the robe around herself quicky. She called his name, and he started moving. Something eerie was in the way he walked, without the usual stoop, planting his feet firmly into the ground. Unpleasant paranoic feeling crawled onto her skin as she found the baby with her eyes, grazing hundred steps away. She didn't have her wand, she wouldn't think of it. She trusted Credence completely, she knew him. As they approached each other, she decided there was something different. His face was ready and meaningful. He towered over her.

"I was in the river, Credence", she reproached him. He didn't stoop his eyes like he always did, but on the opposite, made them travel onto her neck and then back to her face.

"You need to be ready for tomorrow".

"I am".

"You need to be ready for my death".

He caught her hands which flew to his head.

"Credence, I told you-"

"I know, I know. You won't accept it, and you need me to fight".

In the silence between them his white hand let go of hers, and she touched the side of his face.

"But no matter how long I'm fighting, the obscurial is eating me. And I'm quite tired of fighting it".

Orlaith didn't know what to say. She was childishly opposed. She wanted to shake her head and stomp her foot. He held her wrist so softly, like she was an artifact.

"I want you to know something", he added. Taking her hand, he opened her palm.

"The elf wouldn't think of bringing you the ointment. I made it myself, for burns, from the slug-dragons we used to have at the circus. I sent it with him because I had been listening to your conversations with Skender".

Her throat was caught in a spasm.

"You took care of me".

He kissed her palm like he did before. He kept it to his face as if he was trying to hide. He used to have nothing, he thought. And now he knew who he was, and he had love. He had felt love, he had felt loved. And he was happy.

As his name left her lips again, he touched her neck, traced the invisible line to her shoulder, and back. They kissed, his darkness dissipating a little, with the warm summer fog. The powerful feeling of hope left him through the pores in his skin, for he didn't need hope anymore.

The light was leaving the sky. The need shoved them close to each other, and they held on, watching each others' eyes in the twilight. Now Orlaith didn't know what to say because she had said it many times. She needed him. She wouldn't let him go. She was stubborn, and selfish, and he just watched as she clung on his cooling hand.

"We go tomorrow", he said finally. "Don't be upset".

"I'm not upset", she argued. "Are you upset?"

"No".

The play of words made him smile a little.

"I was thinking. Do you have a Change-Up potion?"

Orlaith frowned.

"What's a Change-up potion?" there was again a spark of fun in her eyes. Maybe he made her drunk a little.

"It's the potion which makes you look like the other person".

"Aaahh. The Polyjuice potion".

"The Poly... juice", he chuckled, kissing her face.

"I don't. You know it takes a month to preapre it, right?"

She thought.

"But I can steal it from Sharp. He must have some in the Potions class".

"Do you need help?"

She looked sheepish but in the end, managed to get it together.

"No, you better stay here. Grindelwald must be looking for you. I'll be quick".

He let her hand slide off his shoulder, and traced her arm with his fingers. What if in a dream, he thought, watching her leave the vivarium, they were both very boring, non-magical? And there would be a lifetime of this, of him being able to hold her like that?

She shoved her head back suddenly.

"Oi! Why do we need Polyjuice potion again?"

"Well, to confuse everybody even further".

"But we'll need to be silent, because voices don't change".

"I know".

"And you'll need to act like me, you know?"

"So, a lot of cursing?"

She nodded energetically,

"A lot!"

[ao3feed-scorbus]

Harry Potter Ocs (and short stories)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/aWhRsQ2 by Canis_Major73 I own all of these characters hence OC's but I do not own the HP franchise. -Star Words: 1265, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter - Fandom Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi Characters: Regulus Black, Sirius Black, James Potter, Lily Evans Potter, Marlene McKinnon, Dorcas Meadowes, Remus Lupin, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Pandora Lovegood, Xenophilius Lovegood, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Percy Weasley, Bill Weasley, Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Rubeus Hagrid Relationships: OC X OC, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Rodolphus Lestrange, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Cedric Diggory/Harry Potter, Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes, Alice Longbottom/Frank Longbottom, Regulus Black/Original Female Character(s), Credence Barebone/Newt Scamander, Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter, Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald, Tina Goldstein/Newt Scamander read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/61311826

[unsettledreads]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Credence Barebone/Percival Graves | Gellert Grindelwald, Credence Barebone/Original Percival Graves Characters: Credence Barebone, Original Percival Graves, Percival Graves | Gellert Grindelwald, Newt Scamander, Tina Goldstein, Queenie Goldstein, Jacob Kowalski, Mary Lou Barebone, Chastity Barebone, Modesty Barebone Additional Tags: Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Unhealthy Relationships, Age Difference, Emotional Manipulation, Trauma, Religious Guilt, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies Summary:

His mother had always said that soulmates are something that only happen to those, who are cursed by a witch. Credence has known for years that the name on his skin is only there to pull him away from the light and into a life full of witchcraft and misery. But when he meets Mr Graves, it isn't at all like his mother told him. Instead, there is something odd about the connection between them. Something that doesn't feel right.

[ravenclawbiologist-blog]

A WONDERFUL THING

[Credence Barebone x fem!Reader]

Parinings: Credence Barebone / Fem!Reader

Warnings/tags: Smut, mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, vaginal sex, NSFW, minors DNI.

It was not as if you could have a nice, normal relationship with him. You knew about him and he knew about you. You were a muggle. Him, an Obscurial. 

When you decided to move to the US for a better life, Jacob and Queenie didn’t hesitate to welcome you in their new home for a while, long enough for you to find a decent apartment. You had always known about the wizarding world, so different and intriguing from your non-magical one. In fact, you were a close friend of both Queenie and Tina and, when one day you found Queenie's wand in her drawer, you promised to not say a word about it to anybody. So, you did. You kept the promise. 

But finding out such a secret was very different from discovering that the man you fell madly in love with was an Obscurial. He never expressly told you that, mostly because he was perfectly aware of the fact that you already knew. Besides, you were a bright woman and you knew way too much of the magic world already. It didn't take you much time to find out the truth about him. 

Although, this didn’t cause you to run away from him like most did; on the contrary, you liked to take good care of the dark-haired man, to ease his pain and replace it with love, hoping that one day his Obscurus would just disappear. You would often have him for dinner in your own apartment, pepper the scars on his hands with soft kisses and constantly tell him how beautiful you thought he was. You would often smile at the cute way he sighed whenever you gave him a massage on your couch, enjoying the way his sore muscles instantly relaxed under your gentle touch. 

That night he came over to watch a movie with you. Needless to say, having spent so much time with you, he was pretty familiar with muggle technology and, although he didn't even know how to switch channel with the remote, he enjoyed spending some quality time with you. So he was there, sitting on the couch next to you, his head resting comfortably on your breasts and your right hand gently stroking his onyx, long hair. 

Your nails tenderly scratched his scalp, earning a soft hum from the slender man, and his hand timidly found its way to your thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb over your clothed leg. 

"Feeling good, love?" You whispered, prompting Credence to nod and let a bashful smile curve his thin lips. 

"Far too good." 

You let out a silent giggle, your chest rising as you took in a deep breath of air. You let your hand travel downward, your fingers slightly grazing his neck, his shoulder, his waist… his thigh. When you teasingly played with the leather of his belt, where his shirt had come untucked, his breath hitched and, as soon as he directed his gaze to your eyes, your face flooded with heath. It was not as if you never did it with him. You experienced the most carnal and passionate love with him every time you had the chance. But every time seemed like the first time, made of furtive looks, shy, gentle touches, that only led to an almost desperate desire that could only be filled by your two naked bodies perfectly molded together. 

"Do you want to feel better than that?" You cooed and your eyes never left his as your hand went to cup the tent that formed in Credence's trousers. You knew what he liked and what he didn’t like. And seeing you take the lead and guide him through sex was something that never failed to make his body shiver with anticipation.

His face flushed red with embarrassment, but at the same time he couldn’t find even a little piece of him that didn't enjoy the feeling of your hand where it was, so he simply nodded. He was getting harder every second your hand rubbed against his shaft, his hips bucking just slightly to gain more friction from your touch. 

You slid him under you so that you were atop him. As soon as you undid his pants and gently pulled his boxers down, his member flew out of his pants, hard and ready for you, the tip already dripping with a delicious stripe of precum. You licked your lips at the sight of that, at the sight of your man so deliciously undone under you, his cheeks rosy and sexual desire evident on his flushed face. You were usually the one to take the lead, to initiate your nights of passion, and you knew he enjoyed that. But that time was different. You found yourself to be taken by surprise when you felt Credence's slender fingers snake under your skirt and find your already dripping, naked core. 

"You're not wearing underwear…" he murmured and this time you couldn’t hold your gaze. 

Your face flushed red and a whimper escaped from your lips when you felt one of his fingers rubbing up and down your slit, spreading the wetness he found there, only to slip inside you a few seconds later. Between every ecstatic moan his boney fingers pulled out of you, your hand wrapped around his hard cock, giving a few, experimental pumps before picking up your pace and trying your best to not let that magical moment end too soon just by looking at the blissful expression on his face. His fingers arched, only to find the spot that never failed to drive you crazy, and repeatedly pressed there, sending you dangerously near the edge. The moment your eyes fell onto his hand, the one hidden under your skirt, you realised you couldn’t hold your gaze any longer. The sight of his wrist tensing and relaxing rhythmically, his fingers pumping inside of you and your juices already dripping down his hand, soaking it, sent an electric jolt straight to your core. 

"Rub me…" you breathed. "Rub me here…" 

You knew he needed guidance. You liked to help him understand what made you feel good and he liked it back, so you placed your hand on top of his, moving his thumb to your sensitive clit while another finger dipped inside of you, pumping in your wetness at an almost agonizingly slow pace. 

"Yes, like that…" you moaned as his thumb started rubbing against your sensitive bundle of nerves, his fingers arching just slightly to hit that spot inside your walls that never failed to make you come. "Credence…" 

As soon as his fingers picked up their pace, smothering your whole cunt with juices, you almost forgot about your hand stroking his hard manhood. His fingers thrusted into you almost desperately, mimicking a real penetration, spreading your folds and filling you up with pleasure. You rested your forehead against Credence's shoulder, your lips slightly parted in elated bliss as you moaned his name, your hips bucking desperately against his hands to get even more friction, chasing your release. 

"You've been so good to me…" Credence whispered in your ear and a shiver ran down your spine. "Now I want to make you feel good too."

That was enough to push you over the edge and a freight of pleasure collapsed over you, making your body quiver and squirm under his touch as you rode out your orgasm, jolts of electricity shooting straight to your core. 

It only took you a few seconds to come down from your height, your eyes meeting once again his deep, dark ones, your cheeks flushing and a long, distant buzz ringing in your ears. You didn’t give him time to speak: your lips collided, teeth clashing in a desperate attempt to assert dominance over each other, like it always happened every time you experienced love together. 

You both frantically took each other’s clothes off, tossing them to the ground and not even minding to close the curtains of the window. In less than a second you were atop of him, his hard shaft lining up at your wet entrance, and your lips gently grazed his, his breath hot against your skin. 

"I want to feel you come inside me…"

That was enough to make Credence throw his head back and pound into you so hard you almost screamed, not leaving you time to adjust to the full and stretched-out feeling. One of your hands gripped his shoulder hard, your nails almost scratching his skin, while the other found its way to the hair on the nape of his neck, pulling it just slightly. He stayed still for just a second, enjoying the way your silky walls clenched so comfortably around his cock, and a hand flew to your breast, cupping it gently and flicking your hardened nipple with a finger, only to cause you to whimper desperately under his velvety touch. 

You started rocking your hips against his, your movements synchronised with the way he thrusted deep and desperately in you, like his own life depended on you. You bounced your hips quicker and took him deeper with each stroke, pulling soft moans from the man who was coming undone in front of you. He was close, you could tell by the way he was clenching his eyes shut, by how still his shaft felt against your silky walls. The usually tender touch of his hands on your skin was replaced by him grabbing a handful of flesh from your thighs, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he moaned your name hoarsely, doubling down on his efforts to chase his release. 

"Yes, baby, yes! Yes, Credence!" 

You couldn’t help but scream his name when his cock repeatedly hit that sweet spot inside of you, sending you over the edge and pushing you into the never-ending abyss of your orgasm. You clenched around him, walls twitching and pulsing as you whispered his name into his ear between every moan. 

It didn't take long for him to do the same. He whispered your name hoarsely, his head thrown back as you milked out his seed, spurts of hot cum coating your walls as he rode out his orgasm until he was empty and you were full. You felt him twitching inside you many times, his legs almost shaking from the intensity of his orgasm. 

You were both panting, your face nuzzled into his shoulder as you both tried to catch your breath. His hand flew to your hair and started stroking it gently, earning a low groan of contentment from your tired body. He was getting soft inside of you, but you didn’t get off him; that feeling of fullness made you feel so good, so peaceful that you never wanted it to end. You were sure that, if he hadn't broken that comfortable silence between you two, you would have just fallen asleep like that. 

"You are the most wonderful thing that happened in my life…" 

It was barely a whisper, an almost inaudible praise. But it was loud enough to make your lips curve into a loving smile, your hand resting on the left side of his naked chest, just where his heart was thumping hard against his ribcage. 

"The feeling's mutual…" you replied. 

Your gaze wasn't fixed on him, but you knew he was smiling. And his smile was one of the most beautiful things you got to experience every day. 

[incorrect-grindeldore]

Gellert, thinking: Albus…I wonder what he’s doing now? Is he thinking about me? Does he wear the blood troth? I bet he looks good. I want to kiss him. He’s so strong and powerful and clever.

Queenie: *walks in*

Gellert, thinking: OH BOY I CAN’T WAIT FOR CREDENCE TO KILL DUMBLEDORE I JUST HATE HIM SO MUCH SUCH A THORN IN MY SIDE HE’S THE WORST

[facettenherz]

You can think what you want about the teaser, but the hottest part is simply that we were triggered over 4 years that Credence is this powerful obscurus and all lead’s to this epic fight…. and then Albus is not giving a fuck about it

This powerful gay wizard.

[princess-of-thebes-1995]

Random One Shot

Yandere! Gellert Grindelwald x Muggle! Female Reader

Gellert Grindelwald looked at the magical creature that could look into the future. He liked what he saw. Handsome mini versions of himself with your eye color and plump lips. Then finally, a little girl. His mother's hair color with one silver and hazel eyes like him. But she has your face shape and neck length. By Merlin. He will make it come true.

Suddenly, he halted when he heard thunder.

He remembered the first time he officially met you. You moved out of your parent's house to study in a dorm for college in America.

He magically broke in and you screamed for help. No one heard your blocked cries. Gellert decided to play with you. He let you run out of the dorm and into the pouring rain.

You ran in the middle of the night and tripped on your own feet at the cemetery across the dorms. The fog and half lidded moon with owls hooting made everything more terrifying for you. The opposite for Grindelwald. He felt powerful and you were his prey. A wolf and a rabbit

He mockingly and slowly walked up to you as you tried to crawl away backwards.

Your back hit against a tombstone.

Gellert stared at your beautiful wet face and clothes. His lust was growing more rapid. He decided to strip you by hand and not magic.

Here you were. Chained to his master bedroom. His fiancee. After the election, he will propose publicly.

Grindelwald used to hate getting wet in the rain and would use magic to stay dry. Now, it brings pleasant memories. It never gets old. Fucking you senseless with your stupid expression in ecstasy. You tried to not enjoy it. But, Grindelwald was no fool.

He felt proud of himself. Soon, you will make him proud after getting fat with his children

Before he could walk to your shared room with him, Credence declared there was a visitor.

Curious, it was a friend of Dumbledore. Maybe another henchman to protect you would do him good.

But, first thing is first. Better safe than sorry. Let's erase his memories of his sister.

Au. For ID-91. I feel bad for quitting lowly desires. But, bipolar makes me passionate one moment and bored and quit easily. I hope when the new fantastic beast movie comes. I will rewrite lowly desires and more yandere Grindelwald stories

Also, it sprinkled where I live and the sky is a beautiful shade of blue and gray like the mood from the horror movie, the ring with Naomi watts. Please enjoy

[threeimagineryboys]

My predictions for Fantastic Beasts 4:

Credence dies, duh (hence Aberforth still holding grudges against Albus in the 90s) *and probably at the beginning due to Ezra’s legal troubles and we know how Warner Bros deals with that

Dumbledore going rogue (still in love with Grindelwald, probably tries to change his mind; tragic)

Queenie pregnant.

Newt and Tina make it official.

Flashbacks to summer 1899 (manifesting)

[herwold]

Aurelius Dumbledore - moodboard

[keepmeinmind-01]

mini ramble about fic stuff

*smacks self on the head with a baseball bat* i have to finish smoke signals before i start this shiny new fic (day of the jackal-inspired, tina and newt get justice/revenge for credence, grindelwald replaces percival while theseus and percival are engaged, newt is framed), and i have to finish the leta-centric chapters of 'every you, every me', no matter how much research they take, before i start this theseus x albus fic set during cog

[also i hope that i can get the next 'keep me in mind' chapter out in the next two weeks, as i have actually nearly finished the outline and just need to think of a few good clues and reveals and then i am DONE finally]

[werezmastarbucks]

silver

part one - Golden

part three - Black

part four - Green

As the time passes, and weeks turn into months, Orlaith feels that even the Dumbledores don't much care about finding and helping Credence.

credence barebone x fem!OC

warnings: Credence is dying, cursing, violence, Hogwarts legacy spoilers

fantastic beasts x hogwarts legacy crossover

word count: 8980

author's note: I decided to butcher the timeline. Heck, Orlaith's supposed to be looking for Credence for six years? And everybody's just sitting, doing nothing meanwhile? Plus, I am ready to fight filmmakers on the plotholes they created, so I don't care. That boy didn't have six years, no matter how strong he was.

music: my sweet prince by placebo, various storms and saints by florence+the machine, wer bin ich by lafee, alleine zu zweit by lacrimosa, woods by askii

He landed in the freezing yard, his palms stung with the snowflakes thrown forth by the ferocious wind. The fortress looked like a ship behind the sea mist. It was hard to keep his face up, but the snow was at least making it numb. He heard himself breathe, with a little bit of wheez. His back ached, and something was crawling on the inside of his spine; Credence felt tired. He leaned against the ice-cold stone of the gate, lifted his collar against the wind, and listened a little.

He knew that there, deep in the forest below the castle that stood on the edge of the mountain, huge spiders cracked their dry legs while climbing the rocks; snow horses ran through the moors, and meak, black birds snuggled in tight flocks, trying to withstand the neverending winter. It always snowed. It was always black.

He entered the gate and walked towards the small opening which he usually got into the castle through. Nurmengard was a grim but imposing place, reeking of old. Its square towers constantly faced the northern winds that sometimes flew with the power of furious gods. Nothing could break through; magic buckled in each corner, each little window, cloaked it tight, like desperate mothers roll their newborn babies into the blankets.

He walked these hallways, bleak and slightly bronze in the light of the evening, and cold, blue during the day, with his head down. Very often he didn't wish to see Vinda, peeking out from around the corners, following him. Other times, he would just close his eyes and wish everything away, wish the time ran faster, to the inevitable end.

He would go up into his room in one of the towers, where the entrance gave uncomfortable view of the bed, so everyone who came to see him could catch him off guard.

He now wore a long black coat that hid his crooking body. The spasms and pains came ever more often now, when the winter night never ended and kept curling behind the window with thick, ornamented glass. Credence thought that sometimes he saw some prophecies, some silhouettes in the dancing snow, but could never make them speak to him.

What spoke to him was the mirror.

One of those evenings a message had been waiting for him, which he wiped away, furious. Rather, it wasn't a message, but a name, his name, as though his father was trying desperately to get him to talk.

He constantly was thinking about the castle and why the mirror in his room connected to mirror his father had. Grindelwald didn't like talking of Dumbledore; when he did, his face took on that disgusting expression, as if it hurt him. Credence knew it was an act. He saw the wizard through and through; all his pretence, and quiet rage, the way he was trying to make all of his scheming work. How the vein under his left eye twitched every time somebody spoke to him at the wrong time. The little snaking smile Gellert had for him, like the superficial warm greeting, made him want to turn and break himself apart.

But he still kept the mirror. Or did he forget about its existence? Did all the mirrors connect to Hogsmeade or one of Dumbledores? Was he reading the messages his father has been sending him, and what he was replying?

Credence used this mirror to look at himself past the foggy words. His skin was getting paler, especially in contrast with the long black hair. He thought, this couldn't be good. The way his black inner was now almost shining through his skin. His eyelids heavy all the time. Very often he felt no strength in his hands, and only when it was time to kill, a surge of anger was articulating his limbs. And he killed. To kill, was the only thing Grindelwald wanted him to do. Of course, it would be silly even to think that the madman would notice Credence whither away right in front of him. When he took his shoulder, with his dry and cool hand, he never wished him to be better, but reminded him to stay alive just long enough to be able to kill his uncle. Credence imagined that afterwards, freedom was awaiting, and maybe he could see the golden witch once again. Right before he would die.

Grindelwald asked about her once. It was lucky that there were other things on his mind at the time; he was looking for a Qilin, working with Vogel, building a plan. More than anything, he was preoccupied with the Deathly Hallows, a symbol of which Credence still had. Mystical, mythological, far-fetching legend for those who seek immortality. Why one would want to be immortal, Credence didn't know. One short life was unbearable enough. He thought of her golden earrings and purple sparkles of her magic under her skin. There were now such distances between them that, when Gellert asked him, pretending to be indifferent, just curious, just to upheave a conversation, Credence managed to stay calm.

"Remember the girl who was with you last year, when I picked you up? Who was she?"

"I told you she was a freak from the circus", Credence was looking at the swirling, dark-purple liquid in his cup. It smelt of black current and cholocate and was steaming.

"Yes, but see, I don't think you've told me the truth. The chains on her, I thought they looked familiar..."

Credence looked at him. Between 'Credence' and 'Aurelius', Grindelwald decided not to choose, and didn't call him anything anymore.

"I don't know what they were. She'd been brought to the circus and never performed. The owner couldn't get her to do any tricks. Eventually, two weeks in, we just escaped together, but I never got the chance to ask her why she was there".

Grindelwald hummed in agreement, looking above his shoulder. At any given time in Nurmengard, Queenie was somewhere not far away from him, just lingering, like a ghost. Like he used to be. Credence turned around and gave her a stern look. Queenie always held onto the doorframes or the backs of the chairs for support.

"He's telling the truth. He remembers her golden earrings, and..." she broke off, seeing his eyes. Somehow she betrayed Orlaith, mentioning it.

"Oh", said Grindelwald quietly.

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In the summerland, where the warmth was, opposite to the weather in the mountains of Austria, the air was flickering with the tiny bodies of flying bugs. Orlaith put a bandlet in her hair to get the locks away from her face, as she fished. She didn't fish in the normal sense, but for the research. The Bluetails were extremely rare. She's been hearing about them for years, and they were even mentioned in Newt's fantastic book. Even there - only once; for he hadn't encountered them very often. The beauty of those little fishes was all in their long, birdlike tails, that glowed when in the water, therefore, always. During the day, they just seemed to gleam a little, but at night, sensing the blue light of the moon, Bluetails made the whole pond glow with all shades from turquoise to deep marine blue. During her search of Grindelwald, she found herself in Northern Ireland, where the whole little town of Helen's Bay was humming with the talk of Bluetails. They have had these stories for ages now, the magic folk, of course, and Orlaith, frustrated and tired, decided to go check and bring her mind in order. The wood anemones and bluebells were scattered around the deep and hidden forest pool, and the small butterflies fluttered around her head, seeing the bright guilded decoration on her hair.

Orlaith released a Bluetail back into the water and looked at the faded, pale powder left on her palms. The burnscars have almost gone, but the skin wasn't smooth anymore. It's been almost exactly a year since Grindelwald has taken away Credence, and she was afraid he'd regretted going instead of her. There were probably very few places in the magical world now sadder than wherever Grindelwald was; the worry about obscurial slowly killing him constantly made her fidget with impatience. She had been all throughout Europe and found nothing, but then again, she had no help, and didn't really know how to search for them properly. Many times she thought to herself that she had enough power to just raze whatever hiding place the mage chose to, the ground. She had enough fury for that. The thought that, of all people, Credence Barebone, whether he felt like Aurelius or not, had to go through that, made her blood boil.

What a beautiful place this was; well-hidden deep in the woods, where any person, even very quick-footed, would have to search for a whole day. Passages were tangled with cobwebs and old, strong branches and new, stubborn saplings; throns, briar, and tall elder bushes were barricading the way. And here, in the circle of ancient trees, this small pond was protected with everything nature had, just to admire at these little fishes, giving the night its ethereal glowing. Now it was about to be protected by Orlaith's magic, too, so that no one would ever discover Bluetails. Let them be the stuff of tales.

She decided to rest just a little more, drowning in lush moss, her head heavy, but it was not to be. She could hear the flapping of the ghostly wings. She put her hand to her forehead to protect eyes from the sun; a barely visible patronus flew up and was floating three steps away, right above the water. The sunrays of the evening were shooting through it, making parts of its body invisible. It was a phoenix.

"Professor?" she said.

The non-verbal message in her head sounded like Dumbledore's voice.

it's time to come back home.

Even is she hadn't lost guidance and wasn't out of ideas, she wouldn't have been able to disobey. The message was just a tiny bit concerned. As the phoenix threw its silvery wings and flew up, disappearing in the evening light, she clutched on the moss. Just five more minutes here, in her dreams, with the sound and smell of the forest. Then she started making the protective spells.

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August at Hogwarts was one of the best months; to say nothing about the cheerful and warm view of the castle, strong, huge and greyish-pale in the orange sun, the animals and insects - insects most of all - were doing the last summer dances. The squid was a frequent guest at the picnics near the lake, and Hogsmeade was already full of people. The dread with which the vendors and the house elves were expecting students every year, was endearingly comical. First rogue leaves left their trees and now were making their great travel across the huge territory, flying all the way from the Quidditch field to the forest in the northern side. Across there, the big lake laid glistening, bubbling, ringing with life underneath water. The almost dissipating waterfalls were being filled again with the rains, running happily and with noise; only May could be better. When Dumbledore called it home, it wasn't only for Orlaith, but for many other people who clung on to it.

She came back on the last day of August, while the castle was all but vibrating with preparations. As usual, rare early students who had some extra cause were already there, wandering aimlessly across the green and stone yards. The Headmaster Dippet was at all the places at once. The air of the castle, by the way, with its green hallways, and very strictly ornated Big Hall, still had a very faded feeling of Black being there. As she returned to Hogwarts, every time, because she couldn't stay away, she contemplated on the repetitiveness of time, and thought of other Blacks that were to come, and the one Black she wanted to save very much, in fact. But the future was so dim, so uneven now.

A year was the longest she's been away, in all her time in the wizarding world.

"Peverell!" was the first thing she heard as she entered the huge doors of the castle. Her light, happy pondering was smashed with a ball of water immediately, shaking her awake at once.

"Pevees!" she yelled, then took out her wand.

"Where have you been!"

Another water bomb flew past her as she ducked in time.

"Away!"

She pointed her wand at the poltergeist.

"I'm all wet now, Peeves!"

He laughed with the most disgusting laughter.

"That's for leaving me alone for a year!"

"I'm not your nanny, Peeves", she grumbled, shaking her hair and unbraiding it. The water started dripping down her collar. But she removed the wand.

Poltergeist let her be somewhere on the fourth floor already. She headed for the DADA class, sensing no presence of Dumbledore anywhere else.

Orlaith knocked like she used to, and pushed the door open. The light class, complete with empty (for now) aquariums, iron traps on the walls as if it was an exhibition of torture; and rows of empty decanters, bottles and viles; the pictures, although it looked like some of them haven't been buttoned to the wall properly, of various creatures and wizards, looking very threatening, with their teeth bare, wands pointed. And her favorite: the golden ornament on the wall, giving the class a feeling of never-setting sun.

The little door at the top of the stairs opened, and Albus stood there for a second. She smiled and almost ran to him;

"Come up!" he called, "I have guests".

He was waiting for her at the top of the stairs; bright blue eyes smiling, and the golden chain on his pocket. Always with a straight back, soft in his movements, welcoming. He laid his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it lightly. Orlaith would hug him but she was almost dripping with water; the water balls Peeves has been shooting at people weren't fist-sized.

"Has Peeves proclaimed his undying love for you?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Oh, as usual. Nothing changed at all".

"How did you travel?" he asked, as they entered the inner office.

"Okay, apparating here and there, then I took a train for a little, because I don't know inner Ireland too well. Quite comfortably".

At Dumbeldore's office, a boyish man with his ravaged ginger hair, in his unchanging blue coat, was sitting at the table, bowing his head above something. As he turned, Orlaith threw her hands open.

"Orlaith!"

"Newt!"

They almost hugged.

"Ow. Why are you wet?"

Dumbledore sent a drying spell from behind her back, and she felt warm again.

"Tea?" Professor asked after they all greeted each other, and hugged, and shook hands.

"I would prefer coffee, actually", Orlaith nodded with gratitude. She liked Professor's office, because it was spacious and very cosy at all times. It was a Dumbledore thing, she thought. Of course, it was extremely interesting to look at all the curious mechanisms and instruments that were hung under the ceiling or laid on the shelves behind his desk; she always tried to riddle herself with various strange symbols and undecipherable writings on the little chalkboard he had at the door, a twin of one in the main class. Why was the blue globe constantly spinning by itself? And why did the windows in his office glimmer with some pearl shining in the evening, and the glass appeared to become soft? There were a lot of curious things in Dumbledore's office, but the best part was himself. Always welcoming, with a secret smile in his eyes. For now, he was still young, she thought, very handsome. His sleeves always rolled up to his elbows, and a grin hidden in his beard, he looked at people with a kind tilt of the head. After she's been thrown into this world, she's been waiting for Dumbledore to come to Hogwarts; it's been some time ago. The first nine years she wasn't adjusted, hadn't had anybody to rely on, except for Fig. Sebastian? Sebastian was a cunning bastard, that's who he was.

She sat comfortably in one of the tall chairs draped with red (the colour of her house) together with Newt as Dumbledore brought her steaming coffee in a little blue porcelain cup. It smelt like black current.

"Well, you must be wondering why we've summoned you", he said, getting into his place across the desk.

"Because I couldn't find anything and you wanted me to stop running myself into a grave?" she asked.

"Oh. That, as well, of course, but, also", Dumbledore gestured towards Newt, who was, as usual, clutching on his magical suitcase. Pick was sitting on the desk in front of him, she noticed, and stared at her intently.

"What is it, Pickett?"

"Don't mind him", Newt mumbled, as he stood up to let himself open the case on the floor, "this morning, he fell into a pot of Scheming potion. He's been plotting against everybody the whole day today. Attacked Dumbledore already".

She raised her eyebrows. Dumbledore demonstrated a missing button on his sleeve.

"Vile", she laughed. Pick narrowed his tiny, tiny eyes.

"Doesn't it bother you, Newt, that when he falls into a Scheming potion, he's not overcome with the plans on world peace, but with murderous intent?"

"Oh, no", he giggled, "he's always been a vindictive little fellow".

Finally, the case snapped, and Newt recovered an animal from it. For several seconds there was silence and the zoologist held the little deer-like creature with scaly skin in his hands. Dumbledore was thinking about something.

"What is it?" she asked. "It looks familiar".

Newt let it on the floor, and the creature trotted towards her carefully. Orlaith gave her hand out of habit, and felt the wet little nose touching the tips of her fingers.

"Extremely rare, almost extinct. It's a baby Qilin, Orlaith".

She slid down from the chair and sat on the floor as the little Qilin sniffed and examined her. It let her hand caress it on its head.

"Wonderful", Dumbledore mumbled. It felt like he had been holding his breath. "She likes you".

"Why wouldn't she?" Orlaith wondered.

Newt shrugged,

"Well, Qilins are very gentle creatures, very sensitive. They prefer pure and soft people, and you're... not to be mistaken, you're very kind, but you're just so, so angry most of the time".

She scoffed. The Qilin baby was scuttling around her in circles.

"We are going to need you to take care of her", Dumbledore said. Orlaith looked up. From where he sat, only a part of her face, forehead and her two eyes were seen.

"I need to go back to Europe, you know that. I'm searching for him".

"Orlaith", Newt said quietly, his face already sorry. He always looked like he was about to cry, it was just his eyes, surrounded by freckles, but now he really did look very sad.

"Credence killed her mother. I only managed to save one of the two babies".

She took the baby into her arms, and it folded its thin legs, cooeing softly. For several seconds the two men were watching her intently.

She turned to Dumbledore again.

"And now what, we give up on him? Because Grindelwald has him in the iron clutch?"

"We don't", Albus replied carefully, "can you get up? I can't see you".

She sat back on the chair, with Qilin in her arms. The little weight of her small body, the feeling of her breathing, soft, warm scales on the sides of her tiny body, made her feel almost like a mother. But the thought of Credence, his name said aloud, stung her temples like a needle.

"He's in too deep, and he's with Grindelwald, you're right. And we won't give up on him".

"Strange, all this past year I was the only one looking for him".

"Because I've been preoccupied with other matters", Dumbledore retorted calmly. "And now I need you to join me".

"Is this a part of a plan?" she meant the Qilin.

Newt swayed uncertainly.

"How long am I supposed to stay here then?"

Albus frowned.

"I don't know, Orlaith".

"He's there because of me. He has only joined him to save me, and now he's killing rare animals? Grindelwald has done something to him".

"Credence has had a very tough upbringing. I don't think a lot was needed to harden him".

"I don't care".

Newt caressed Qilin's head carefully.

"Orlaith, I think that this baby now is your best chance at saving him", he said, peacefully.

"I know you want to find them", Dumbledore added, "and turn the ground upside down, and strike them with lightnings. But remember what happened the last time you underestimated your enemies".

Nasty, smart Dumbledore, she wanted to say. You always know better, and you always will, but it's so exasperating. She gave the Professor a long look, then, Newt.

"You don't trust me?"

"I trust you, Professor. But I know you're always calculating. Don't think I don't suspect there's more to this favour than what meets the eye".

Dumbledore shrugged helplessly.

"Orlaith, it's instrumental that this baby is undiscovered and unharmed", Newt pointed. "She is absolutely the most important thing we have against Grindelwald".

Picket jumped at her, launching himself into her hair, and started jabbing at her head. It felt like light scratching on her scalp because he was, after all, a very good-natured bowtruckle. Newt rushed to pick him up, trying not to tear too much of her hair, awkwardly. She tilted her head, paying no attention to the attempt of assassination.

"Why me, exactly? To keep me from looking for Credence?"

"Orlaith", Dumbledore uttered, used to her complaining.

Newt smiled knowingly. He sat back, keeping the Pickett in his hand firmly.

"Oh, no, because, I think, you will protect her with your life, because you will love her very much".

She finished her coffee, silent, as the two men discussed the matters. She watched the light dying above the castle, as the golden rays started shooting on the walls through the windows. What's the use of this ancient magic, she thought, if she couldn't destroy people like Grindelwald with it? If she wasn't able to save people she loved? It felt like her battling days were now behind, and nowadays she's been sitting, gathering flies, and watching the seasons. There were no poachers nearby anymore.

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She had the Cloak of Invisibility that Dumbledore discovered in the empty Peverell manison in the Godric's Hollow. She thought it funny how the artefact travelled from Dumbledores to Potters, and back again. She did not disclose to him just yet the nature of the cloak, but kept an eye on it so that it would make it to James eventually. Now, it was exceptionally useful because she could hide the Qilin under it in the evening as she travelled to the castle. Together, the two of them, occupied a little house in the eastern part of Hogsmeade, with the windows looking out on the Potions and Lotions shop and the field beyond it. But the baby had to move a lot, so, in the evenings, Orlaith would take her with, and, invisible, go to the castle to the Room of Requirement where she released the little young beast to run around in the vivarium. Otherwise it was empty, save for little bugs; so the Qilin was in no danger. She decided not to give her any name because Orlaith didn't know what was bound to happen. So, she just called her 'baby'.

At night, she would return home with the tired baby in her arms, and the youngster slept in her bedroom on the second floor. For many months, it was a nice, quiet, exhausting life of obscurity, until commotion finally began.

There were spiders again, and dugbogs started appearing along the rivers in the Forest. It's been twenty years since she last saw any of them; the spiders were now cast out into the deepest caves only, and the dugbogs, she personally saw to them.

But that autumn, there was talk of them again, and several teachers had to inspect the Forest. Orlaith was agitated to spring into action again. She hoped, just a little bit, that poachers would return. Not that she wished any animals harmed, but she missed the practice, and the clean sweep of offensive magic as it made the forest glow in the dead on winter night; the perfectionistic feeling of cleaning the woods of them, seeing hares, owls and mooncalves return again to the places that had been scorched of life because of those killers. She was a killer, herself, she had no delusions of that. That was one thing Dumbledore and her never spoke about. He seemed to be unsure about her lust for destruction when she came upon those criminals.

She didn't get out much, still, because she was keeping an eye on the baby. Sometimes she would go to the castle to hang around and be unhelpful at something; desperately strained in between the professors, the students and the bypassers. She had no job, she was not studying anymore. She was almost invisible, unapplied. The teachers brought news of the armies of dark creatures breeding in the forest, meaning some threat brewing. Orlaith sometimes went out at night. The house was protected by invisibility spells, and only her and Dumbledore had the special magic matches that allowed them to see it. While she was outside, no soul could penetrate the dwelling, it became unreachable. She would leave the baby sleeping, with the milk next to her bed, and the fire just slumbering downstairs, and go to the forest, in her old blue cloak she used to wear before.

She remembered the forest very well. As the winter drew nearer, and the first November snow made the old paths more visible again, she spent more time hunting the reasons for this insidious activities. She didn't like killing even the dark creatures; she never hunted Mongrels, actively avoiding them and launching them deeper into the forest, further from the castle. She searched for humans; those who could tell her what's going on, and maybe carry the word from Grindelwald himself.

They used to be washed up, untidy, careless, dirty poachers, easy to kill. They cursed, and scattered at the sight of her sky-blue cloak, they were disorganised and unskilled. The people she started meeting now, looked different. Those were dark acolytes of the wizard whose name it was still allowed to say out loud. And they were way more treacherous.

Now, Orlaith had to make sure none of them actually escaped, not to let Grindelwald hear even a whiff of her existence. Once or twice they managed to hurt her well, wounding her, but every time the instinct, and the force that supported her actually did the rest as she was bleeding. One of the nights in December she got caught up in a group way bigger that she'd anticipated. After a quick but exhausting fight, her wand jumped out of her hand with a snap, and she was blinded by a red flash. The well-frozen earth was hard beneath her, and the sky, uneven. The sky was still pregnant with real snowstorms and couldn't show the stars to navigate by. Higher, above the trees, the wind was moving the masses of snow chaotically. Orlaith took a deep breath, waiting until the pain in her chest would cease. She wasn't even thinking of the prospect of death; that would be stupid. She was way too proud to speculate on the possibility of being defeated by a gang of outlaws, be they even Grindelwald's slick dark wizards with style, somewhere in the Forest. Laughable. And, she had been in these circumstances before. She recalled that the first time she actually got scared, because a witch without a wand feels like a cook without their arms. Her fear surged out of her, as if the earth itself heard her cry for help, and she managed to attack them without it. The second time, centaurs saved her, by that time already aware what kind of activities she's been conducting in the woods. The third time was now.

"Zabini!" she heard, "tie her up. The Lord will want to hear about this. This is probably the..."

"Zabini?!" she raised her head from the ground, although the world was still spinning. Indignation pressed on her chest.

"How dare you, you absolute laughing stock! You're the dirtiest, the unfixable boar-"

The running steps lifted snow off the ground as she sat up. She put the cloak around her, because it was getting cold.

"Shut up!"

"No, you shut up!" she yelled. She didn't know Zabini's face or even whether this one was a man or a woman. But the familiar name was so funny, so absurd.

"Which one of you is Zabini?!"

One more spell landed almost next to her hand on the ground. Orlaith tried to stand up, but was still weak.

"She's moving", and arrogant female voice said, "get her, quicker".

She rolled over and stood on her fours, feeling for her wand. That is the only time I can stop thinking about Credence, she thought. The only time I'm having fun. The wand was somewhere out of reach while the feet of the... Grindelwalders? were approaching. Someone even kicked her on her ribs, and she nearly threw up.

"Okay, enough", she whispered, gatherting the focus in her hands. She could see her own fists glowing lightly, as the whirlwind of magic roared inside of her. I might be arrogant, of course, she was thinking. But I am so bloody strong.

The umbrella of power opened up above her, knocking the closest ones off their feet. Several of their curses flew up in the sky like fireworks. Night birds, bothered by the noise, took off and flew away.

"Where's my wand?!" she screamed. She stepped up to the nearest body and found their wand. One by one, with a little disobedient wand in her hand, she got rid of them. Her side was surely bleeding, she felt that, but for now, the adrenaline gave her energy, even zest. Finally, she found her own wand and changed them, approaching the last living witness.

He was crouching on the ground, with a bloody nose. She kicked his wand away.

"Which one are you?"

In the Lumos light his face looked completely white, like a square cube of ice, his eyes reflecting flashes.

"Za-Zabini".

"Oh, you're ugly", she lingered, "I don't recognize you. Where's Grindelwald?"

"I would rather die than tell you".

"Come on. Don't you want to satisfy the Cutter?"

His face frowned with confusion.

"Who?"

Orlaith was jabbed with the arrow of reality.

"Alright. Alright. Anyway, I need to know about Credence. The obscurial boy. Where is he? Is he with him?"

Zabini was dying. He sighed, weakly. She poked him with her wand.

"Tell me. Where are they? Why are you so close to Hogwarts?"

Zabini kicked on the ground because his body refused to die.

"Imperio".

The wizard stiffened up, looking in front of himself. His eyes were filled with fog.

"Where is the obscurial?"

"With Grindelwald".

"Where is it?"

"I don't know. They are on the move".

She shivered a bit with biting cold. She started jumping on one place.

"Alright, have you seen him?"

"Who?" he asked, dumbly.

"Obscurial! Obscurial!"

"Long ago".

"How was he?"

"Dark", Zabini whispered. "Like the death himself. Half-shadow and deadly. He doesn't speak much".

She let go of him, allowing him to die. She wished there was a hippogriff nearby that could carry her home.

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She usually sang while she walked outside Hogsmeade. The spring was drawing near, and the Qilin was growing. This little girl has grown no less than ten inches since August. She ran around on strong, sure legs now, and could jump almost the height of a human.

Orlaith sang to take her mind off things. She was picking the first flowers to make the vitamin potion for the baby. Lily of the valley, while it was very young, lacked any poison but was rich with the spring water that was instrumental for growth of even-toed animals; magical and non-magical alike.

Thawing made the world ring softly, along with her song. There was a lot of water closer to the east side of Hogsmeade; she was careful not to step into a deep puddle of grass and ice.

"Orlaith!" someone called her. From distance, she didn't even recognize him. Limping, grey, hurrying, it was Aberfort, but she only understood it when he was close. Orlaith avoided meeting him; she didn't know why. Perhaps she didn't want to see shadows on his already disappointed face. She felt uncomfortable in his presence; he was always grumpy, unfriendly and uneasy. This, now, was the fastest she'd ever seen him move.

"Albus, wants to talk to you".

"Why didn't he send an owl?" she asked, picking up the basket with flowers. Aberfort, without a warning, made the basket levitate and pushed it in front of him.

"He's in Berlin, would take too long. He's in the mirror. Let's go".

"In the mirro- oh, the mirrors" she gasped.

They ran down the slippery hill, their feet squishing the melted snow, wet through and through. Still violent, the air was swishing in her ears, but refreshing. Her mind wandered off to the baby as they passed the place where she knew her house was. Not even Aberfort knew where she lived and what she hid there.

They finally made it to the Hog's Head Inn, through the narrow, snaking streets of higher Hogsmeade. The basket landed on the table inside with a boom, and Aberfort showed her the way to the mirror that hung above the bar.

She saw the head and the shoulders of Albus. He was preoccupied, snow on the soles of his hat.

"Orlaith", he said, with relief, "how is the baby?"

"She's fine, she's growing really fast".

"Good". He looked somewhere beyond. Behind him, Orlaith saw the snowy alleyway, narrow and empty. It looked like Dumbledore was standing in a dead end and peeking to see if any people watched him.

"I saw Credence", he said quickly. Her heart boomed right into her head with a hammer.

"In Berlin?"

"Yes. Grindelwald sent him to kill me. I have to admit, he got to the task rather half-heartedly".

"And how is he?"

"Angry, and very strong. It looks like he's using the obscurial masterfully already. Listen, you need to be ready the next month with the baby".

"For what?"

Aberfort was busying himself behind her back, between the tables. He just walked there, from chair to chair, throwing looks at the window.

"Can't tell you. Grindelwald found a way to see the nearest future, and he's always one step ahead of us. We can't know what each of us is doing".

"But now he'll know what I'm doing".

"He won't", Dumbledore shook his head negatively. "You're protected. Just be ready and... are you practicing?"

She nodded.

"You tend to be very messy in the heat of fight, Orlaith. With Grindelwald, even if one spell hits you, you die", he warned.

She nodded, acknowledging his rightfulness in worrying.

"You can give Aberfort a match, how do you think?" he suggested. "Just in case?"

Aberfort, upon hearing his name, stopped fidgeting and listened. Orlaith looked in her pouch that she wore on her belt.

"I won't even ask what case it is, Professor", she sighed. Aberfort approached her and took the simple looking match from her.

"What's it for?" he asked, without much interest. It looked like everything his brother did, Aberfort met with incredulity.

"You won't find my house without it", she clarified. That didn't help him much as he gave her the same sceptical look.

"Do not lose it", she said, firmly.

"Orlaith", Albus called, after short silence, "you need to know two things. He asked about you".

She felt like crying. How did she go from 'I need to protect this boy' to feeling her heart long for him? She didn't even consider him at first, thinking that then, last year, she was enfatuated with his bravery, with his sudden appearance, a familiar face in dire need. He took her by surprise by being so fairytaleishly noble, and their meeting was so quick. Now, she felt his absence every day, and the guilt weighed on her.

"And he is dying". Albus was grave. His eyes switched to his brother.

"No", she said. No, I refuse that. "You said he was angry and strong".

"Not in a good way".

"You said he was using the obscurial masterfully, not the other way round..."

"Orlaith... it's agony".

She sniffed through her nose.

"I'm sorry, but he doesn't have long. He's thinning, the obscurial is eating him alive".

She clenched her fists.

"No".

Albus opened his mouth, closed it. Aberfort was silent next to her. She noticed that he looked at his brother with eyes full of disappointment.

How come, she wanted to say, that I am more upset with the death of your son? Ah yes, you didn't want him.

"You told me obscurials can be healed out", she muttered instead, "you told me that if there are people who'll care about him, we can do it".

Dumbledore sighed.

"He's been alone too long".

"That's because..." she stopped herself. "Dumbledore, I have ancient magic. I can help".

"Do not make the mistake Isidora Morganach made, thinking that this kind of magic can solve everything", he reminded.

She didn't know what to say. There were so many untapped opportunities. There were wizards from other countries, obscurial specialists, there was Newt, after all. Albus could almost read her mind, saying,

"I'm sorry. He is my nephew. If there was something I could do for him, I'd be in the middle of it already".

She turned to Aberfort.

"Why are you so quiet? He is your son".

He didn't dare to look back. Just started at the match in his fingers, and walked away silently.

"This is ridiculous", she puffed, "don't expect me to give up on him".

Albus nodded.

"Would never. But don't have hope, Orlaith. It will destroy you".

That evening, she took a slow walk home, thinking. The flowers in the basket looked tired. It was raining a little, and wet, the wind was doing its last winter deeds, bringing pebbles, leaves and someone's kerchieves from place to place like it was autumn. Orlaith decided to stop at Honeydukes to get something for tea, and realized she didn't have any friends. No one to send an owl asking how she was, or call her for a coffee downtown. Exiting the shop with her hands full, she collided with a lady in a pale purple raincoat, with braids neatly laid upon her head. The woman looked distraught, a little confused. She is most curious, Orlaith thought, looking at how her eyes were running all over the place.

"Sorry", Orlaith said, "balance not good with my hands full".

"Oh, no, I'm sorry, I'm afraid I wasn't seeing where I was walking at all".

Suddenly, the woman grabbed her by the sleeve and pulled under the light of a streetlamp. Orlaith saw her face, long and petite, with big teeth but a very nice nose that somehow correlated with her composition.

"Are you a Peverell by any chance?" she asked.

She doubted a little. She was a Peverell on the paper, on the portrait that's been found at the mansion. But she wasn't sure.

"I think..."

"I have a message for you. Hi, I'm Matilda, Matilda Crockleporne", the woman gave her hand, not realizing there was no way Orlaith could shake it.

"I'm going to be teaching Divinations at Hogwarts, starting next year", she smiled.

"Oooh", it made sense now. Orlaith smiled without enthusiasm. She wanted to be at home, crying her stomach out and holding her baby.

"But I came to Hogsmeade beforehand, because I felt that I needed to give a message to a Peverell. So, are you?"

"I'm the only one around, for sure", she shrugged.

"Great. I need to tell you - "don't prevent the tree from growing".

Orlaith bit her lip, utterly annoyed. They stood there, both, silent.

"Does it mean anything to you?"

Orlaith hummed.

"Well, I love trees. wouldn't prevent them from growing, but... I don't know".

Matilda appeared ruminating.

"No, that's all. I don't have any context".

"Do you ever. Thank you, nice to meet you, I need to go now", Orlaith bowed to her awkwardly and made her way back into the street. She knew she was being rude, but she couldn't take it. This feeling of irritation was eerily familiar: when you're feeling the most ignominious, there is going to be a foreteller in your face, giving you nothing but confusion.

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Credence was lying in his bed. Mara, the night demon, had just sprung from his chest as he woke up. He's been seeing only bad dreams for weeks. And when he woke up, another nightmare welcomed him in the shape of dark-red drape over the bed. Casting out any light. He didn't know what time it was, but through the window, pale dust was entering the room. His back hurt, so he got up slowly, not to sprain a muscle. His skin was cold, no matter how long he rubbed his shoulders.

He thought he knew what he was doing when he joined Grindelwald. Then he thought he had things to do, to kill time, as he was given various grim, soulless tasks. Kill this and that. Then, he realized why Grindelwald couldn't take on Dumbledore by himself. He felt like a tool. But it wasn't the worst thing he could be. He used to be an abomination and an object. So, instrument at least had a function. And then, when he saw his uncle in Berlin, he realized he didn't care. He thought he was angry with the Hogwarts professor in his brand new clean coat and with his perfect trimmed personality. But he didn't feel real hatred towards him. He was just tired. Dumbledore's voice echoed in his head ever since he's come back, and he was sure that Quieenie was tired of listening the same thing again and again, on repeat. When she looked at him, her little pale face twisted like she was about to wail. He was sure she wanted to tell him how sorry she was.

She's searching for you

He was sitting on his bed, freezing to death. His toes barely moved on the stone floor. Outside, below the edge of rocks, snowstorm fell down deep into the abyss. Phoenix was circling through the gusts of it. As he noticed the bird, Credence stood up and walked towards the window, opened the lock. The air stung him in the chest, for several seconds he couldn't breathe. Phoenix flew towards him, and he stepped away. He watched the beautiful, mirthless bird fly through the room.

"Why are you here?"

It didn't say anything but sat on his shoulder, little steady paws pricking his skin.

"I know".

It was hard to stand. There were better and worse days; on the better ones he felt the waves of strength that made him overwhelmed with desire to move and fight. Today was one of the worse days. He felt his illness very clearly, he could hear the obscurial devouring his bones. It thought it was silent, but Credence heard it; the snapping, clicking sound coming from the inside. He went to the mirror, sent the bird to the door. In the fog where his face was usually reflected, he wrote with his finger,

I want to see her

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An owl was clicking on the window gently. But Orlaith was sleeping, and seeing a dream about a giant spider, one from the forest, with a hair brush in one leg, and a wand in another, and a mirror in the third, and a brick in the forth. As it snapped its jaws at her, cornering her between a sharp rock and a broad cobweb placed there specifically to trap her. Her wand was missing. Click-click-click the jaws said. She was calling for Sirius Black, who wouldn't be born for good twenty-five years yet. She just had the idea that his dog form would be a tremendous companion on her forest raids.

She woke up when the spider jumped, and saw the baby standing beside the bed. It was looking at the window.

She patted it on the head and opened the window. The little grey owl gave her her leg, and Orlaith untied the note.

"Do you guys want breakfast?" she asked, but then she read it.

The three of them ran downstairs, the Qilin baby happier than the two others. She raced for her plate and started drinking immediately. Orlaith took the owl on her arm and put on her coat; took some treats for the bird and ran out of the house.

It was raining; March was almost over, and it was crying heavily, like a capricious child. There were few people in the streets, everybody was warming to the fire inside. She ran through Hogsmeade, and the owl eventually took off from her hand after munching on biscuits a little. She watched its gliding flight above her head, as they both headed for the Inn.

Orlaith didn't knock on the back door through which they usually entered the Inn. Aberfort was sitting, waiting at one of the ever-empty tables. The season was over, and the next one hasn't begun yet. In the misty, humid space of the house, she smelt his sweat and the old wood.

"Where is he?"

"In Austria", Aberfort replied, unaffected. Orlaith froze in place.

"What? Wh- why did you send..."

He motioned towards the mirror.

"He wrote to me".

"You talk to him through the mirror?" she wondered. The anger was brewing inside of her silently. How funny it was. By the mundane tone he said it, it was obvious he had access to Credence all this time. And nobody bothered to let her know.

"Yes. He said he needs to meet you. Give me the location and the time".

"Do you still have the match?"

"Yes. When and where?"

She rubbed her forehead, sweating under the coat from running.

"There's this place in Northern Ireland. It's very well protected. I'll draw you a map".

As she was leaving, she wondered if the mirror messaging has been corrupted and whether Grindelwald could write messages instead of Credence. But she wouldn't care. She trusted her own rage, forgetting about what Dumbledore said.

"Orlaith", Aberfort called when she was at the door. Her name sounded so rough, foreign in his mouth.

"Do you think he can forgive me?"

She pressed her jaws.

"I wouldn't. But I'm not him".

She really didn't know.

At night, she made sure the baby fell asleep, and the house was protected. She checked it three times. There were many variants now. It could have been a plot to lure her out of the house and seize the Qilin, or Aberfort in the morning could have not been Aberfort. Maybe Grindelwald already knew about everything. She was blinded. As she dressed and did her hair, she put on her hoop rings she wore at the time she was at the circus. The road out of Hogsmeade was shorter if one went straight from the back of the house, past Potions and Lotions, up the hill to the woods. She disapparated from there and spent the next three hours walking through the wet Irish forest. She cut the branches and cleared the bushes where she could. Worry was tearing her ribcage apart. But it felt just like a tale from the book. In the moonlight, as the restless day strom had quietened, the woods stood vigilant and wet; the birds cooed gently from the distance, and her steps were softened by the damp, awakening earth. Soon, this will be paradise again, with ladybugs occupying one tree trunk in thousands; with diagonal rays of sunlight on the webs, and small animals racing in the tall, thick moss. She was quite tired whe she finally realized that she was at the edge of her own protective dome. She needed to eliminate all protection for Credence to be able to find her. But first, she decided to enter and check if everything was alright. Approaching the pond in almost complete darkness, she was guided by the glow from the water. The moon was hidden behind the clouds. Her heart was beating so loudly it was obvious to anybody who could be there.

There was someone watching her, next to the big stone that stood above the water. Her eyes adjusted to the enchanted light, and she saw it was Credence.

They shouted at once, simultaneously,

Revelio!

Nothing happened. So, he had somehow found her well-hidden pond. She had no doubts the protection still stood, as she, herself, had to trace the edge of it with magic. But he had already been waiting for her, and the spell didn't disclose any charms. She ran towards him, whispering his name. Credence was taller, it seemed, although she knew it was impossible. His pale face was absolutely infernal in this aquamarine light. But his eyes were the same, cautious, distinctly dark. His hair was long and messy, as if he was trying to hide his face in it. She took his hand and he clenched it.

A little smile cut his face and warmed it up.

"What are those?" he asked, instead of greeting.

"Bluetails. They're very rare. They glow in water".

"But it's fish. They're always in water".

"Exactly", she smiled, realizing that she's crying. She embraced him, and Credence didn't push back but accepted it. His hand laid on her back, fingers light like a kiss from the gust of wind.

They sat on the stone where it was the lightest. Orlaith was examining his face.

"How are you?"

Credence made himself look normal.

"Alright".

"Let me see your arms".

"No", he stopped her hand, catching her fingers and lightly stroking them. "I'm fine".

"Dumbledore said..."

He chuckled.

"Dumbledore says so many things I can't believe half of them".

"What do you mean?"

"I guess, nothing".

It didn't feel like a place to talk about their mentors. But there was nothing else to talk about it. Orlaith asked him where he was kept; and how to get him out; and how he got out this time. He mentioned that Queenie was invasively miserable but supportive, and that he, actually, owed her a lot.

"I'm sorry you had to do it", Orlaith said, meaning his capitulation to the Lord.

"I don't regret it".

"I bet you do".

He looked at her hair and the glimmering earring. She could feel his smile with her skin.

"I don't".

Orlaith was looking at his palm when he turned her own and touched the old burn scars.

"They're almost gone".

"Yes, the medicine the elf gave me was good. I kept it. It really removes the scars pretty quickly".

Credence raised her hand to his face and kissed her palm.

Bluetails scurried in the water, gathering closer to them, curious to look back.

"Don't go back", she said, after a while. Credence shook his head slowly.

"He'll know where I am. Now I need to be there".

"What for?"

Credence didn't reply. Instead, it felt like he was gathering strength to say something else.

It was strange. She knew he was Aurelius by birth, but he didn't look that at all. The other name felt so natural on him. She was going to ask about it, but Credence said,

"I brought him a Qilin. I killed his mother and stole it. Almost killed Scamander in the process".

His eyes were now waiting. She had known about that, but was still taken aback by his firm tone. She looked at his face, whithered, sick. It was agonizing.

"You should hate me for that", he helped. "He killed the baby".

His stare was empty, the sharpened features of his face making him look like one of the statues in the basement levels of Hogwarts, the ones surrounding the Slytherin main room entrance.

"Why did he need the Qilin only to kill it?"

"Yesterday he resurrected it with necromancy".

She wished Dumbledore was here to help her think.

"Why?"

Credence shrugged.

"Why aren't you mad?"

"All of you Dumbledores are trying to make me give up on you. I won't do that. Think, Credence".

She said it the same way she said to him, Credence, my friend, listen to me. Taking him by the neck and making him get himself together. A matter-of-fact tone she used, to tell him he still mattered, was lovely. He felt warm first time in a long time. He felt the chthonic power of obscurial ease up a little.

"There will be election for the new leader of magical world soon", he said. Apparently, they both thought about the same thing, but not quite identical. Credence's eyes narrowed, as Orlaith's, in turn, widened.

"He sees the future. We can't have a plan".

She shook her head in agreement.

"Just go with it. And hold on until we meet".

Credence looked at their interlocked fingers.

"I don't think we will. What Dumbledore told you is true. I'm more obscurial now than a human".

Orlaith forced herself onto his shoulders, grabbing him, hugging, burying him in the wave of her hair, her fingers stroking his head.

"No, I need you".

He closed his eyes. The concept of that was unclear to him, but he made himself believe.

"Alright", he pressed his forehead against hers. "Then, when we meet, what?"

"Don't have any plan", her smile flashed in the blue light. "But improvise".

"Trust your rage?" he smirked.

She couldn't speak, as if she was the weaker one. Credence knew he had to go, but alternatively, dying right at that moment was a good enough compensation for his life.