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“Newt.” Newt raised his head at the sound and couldn’t help the smile that broke over his face. The creature he’d been holding nipped his fingers.
“Yes,” he hissed. “Yes. I know. I’ll be back to you soon.”
Then he slipped the creature back into it’s den and turned just in time for Credence to reach him. Credence was clutching his wand, like he always did when he came down into the case after his lessons. Newt kept telling himself that he came down here to give Credence and Albus space but he knew that it also had something to do with this moment. The moment where Credence would come in, full of pride, to show what he’d learnt that day.
“Credence,” he said, stepping closer to grasp the other man’s shoulder. “How was it?”
“I think I did well,” Credence said, smiling and ducking his head in a way that was frankly adorable. “Albus seemed impressed, anyway.”
“Well, show me then,” Newt said. He couldn’t help the slight bounce in his step as he moved back to give Credence space.
“I’m not so good yet,” Credence said, but he moved to pick up a rock and place it in the middle of the room. Newt hopped up onto a desk to watch him. Credence bit his bottom lip when he concentrated and Newt found it very hard not to focus his attention there.
The rock began to move. It began to re-shape and form itself. It lengthened, then bulged at the top before splitting. It’s very nature changed and when Credence finally stood back with a small smile, a crystal wine glass sat where the rock had been.
“It’s not perfect yet,” Credence said, softly. “I know there’s a more efficient method. Albus said he’d lend me a book and that we’d work on vanishing tomorrow. But…”
“It’s wonderful,” Newt says, stepping forward to pick the glass reverently from the floor. Olivander had said that Credence’s wand would lend itself to transfiguration but this was extraordinary. “Credence, this is amazing. I couldn’t do this.”
“You don’t have to say that. It’s only been a little over a month. I know…”
“I’m not lying. You would never lie to you,” Newt said, rolling the glass between his fingers. It was perfectly balanced. “But Credence, this is wonderful. I’d be the first to admit that I’m not the most talented wizard when it comes to transfiguration but this glass, only someone with an extreme level of skill could have created it.”
“It’s not that impressive.”
“This is easily 6th year work. And vanishing is some of the hardest work in 5th year. Albus must think very highly of you if he’s teaching you this.”
“He didn’t, really,” Credence muttered, blushing attractively. “I read some of the books he left for me. He was a little surprised. I think I went further than he intended for me to go. I probably shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”
“Credence,” Newt said. He took the time to set the glass down safely before stepping forward and taking Credence’s face in his hands. Gredence dared to glance up at him, to lean into the touch a little. “Never appologise for being brilliant. I knew you’d be an amazing wizard, this just proves it.”
“Thank you,” Credence said, flushing again. Newt could feel the heat against his palms so withdrew his hands before he did something inadvisable.
“You are very welcome. Now, come along, I waited for you to feed the puffskeins.”
***
Newt wasn’t very surprised when he emerged from the case to find a note from Albus requesting the pleasure of his company for a glass of firewhiskey. Credence’s eyes were already wandering to his textbooks so Newt excused himself easily.
Albus was waiting for him when he came into the other man’s rooms.
“Albus,” he said, taking a seat.
“Newt.” Albus smiled like he had a secret, but one that was weighing on him. Newt couldn’t help but think he was probably the source of that worry and couldn’t help feeling contrite about it.
“I presume this is about Credence.”
Albus nodded. “He’s a very bright young man.”
“A genius, one might say,” Newt said. Albus nodded. Stood and strolled over to the cabinet to retrieve a bottle of firewhiskey and poured them both a measure. Newt took the glass, glad for something to do with his hands. I took a quick sip then rolled it back and forth between his palms.
“He has a connection with Grindelwald?”
“Yes,” Newt admitted. “Though I haven’t told him about it yet. I don’t want to worry him.”
Albus nodded. Credence had been gone when they unmasked Grindelwald, of course. Newt didn’t like maintaining the fiction he seemed to have inadvertently stumbled into. At first, he’d been worried how Credence would react. The first few days, he’d been unhinged. The smoke had wisped around him at the slightest provocations.
And then Credence began to warm to him, but the longer he let the lie sit, the harder it was to face.
“You’re sure there’s no contact now?”
“I’m sure,” Newt said. “I’m with Credence almost all of the time, I’d notice. Nobody even knows he survived, there’s no way.”
“I worry,” Albus said, softly. “That’s all. You know that I have a particular history with Grindelwald, yes?”
“You were friends?”
“Friends,” Albus said, but with a quirk of his lip that told Newt all he needed to know about the kind of friendship they’d had. “He was, is, a master when it comes to manipulating people. That’s why I worry, Newt. Credence, he’s far too powerful to fall to Grindelwald.”
“He won’t,” Newt said. “Graves, Grindelwald, wasn’t kind to him. Not really. Now he has me. Us. Things are better.”
“But Grindelwald was kind to him once, and he listened. I just need you to be aware that it could happen again, my friend. Grindelwald is a hard influence to break. If anything happens, you must promise to tell me immediately.”
“I wouldn’t try to hide it from you,” Newt said, but there was a twist in his gut that said he just might. If it were Credence, he just might.
“Thank you, my friend. You ease my mind,” Albus said, but he didn’t look much eased. Newt, for his part, finished his drink as quickly as was polite and let himself out.
He had things to think about.
***
When he let himself into the bedroom, Credence was already asleep. He slept curled up on his side, his knees drawn to his chest. It was a position that almost invited Newt to wrap around him. To pull him close and press a kiss to his brow and hold him. Credence wanted to much to be held.
It was worrying.
He’d changed in the bathroom but found that he didn’t want to slip under his covers just yet. Instead he perched on his mattress, on the edge of his bed. Credence stirred a little in his sleep, but he didn’t wake.
There was a time when if he’d so much as stepped into the room, Credence would had been awake instantly.
He was so young. So skilled. He so obviously needed protecting. It was a struggle not to feel inferior to the task. But it was his task. From the moment he’d picked Credence up in the street and made the decision to bring him to England, he’d taken on the task. He could, should, have handed him over to the authorities. But what would they do with a boy like Credence? The boy Credence had been? They’d never understand him. Never nurture him. They’d kill him or break him. Drive him right back to Grindelwald’s arms.
Someone boiled in Newt at that. At the thought of Credence turning back to Grindelwald. Of him bestowing his sweet smiles and touches on someone to undeserving.
No, Newt had made the right choice.
And he was going to carry on making the right choice. Whatever it took to keep Credence safe. His book was shaping up. He’d finish it and sell it and then he’d take them away. Away from Grindelwald and war and pain.
He didn’t know where, he’d work that out later.
All he knew, with deep certainty, was that he’d never let anyone hurt Credence. Not again.