Chapter Text
Everyone knew of Mr. Ash. A mysterious man who specialized in being able to obtain almost anything you needed...for a price. He always had a cigar of some kind that didn't smell like normal cigars.
What made him different was that he had a habit of hiring children from under privileged families to do minor, legal errands in exchange for a tenth of what he normally paid the adult workers. Families that had been struggling to put food on the table found their situations reversed in short order, and were thus almost singing the praises of Mr. Ash.
He even provided free childcare for single mothers, which was practically unheard of.
Credence knew his mother didn't really approve of the man, but even she had to admit the orphanage needed money. The leaflets she insisted on passing out decrying the 'evils' of magic were costly, and they were running low on food for the children.
So he followed the directions of one of the orphans who worked for Mr. Ash, and found himself at the door of the mysterious benefactor.
Mr. Ash had vibrant almost ginger hair, piercing green eyes. He wore a crisp white outfit accented with black and red. There was a simple, yet elegant cane near their desk as they worked on their paperwork.
Something about the way Mr. Ash looked at him felt like the older man was peering into his very soul.
“You're a bit too underfed to do the harder labor,” said Mr. Ash. Credence flinched at that. “We'll fix that soon enough. Until then you'll be an apprentice runner for the docks bringing messages. You'll work under one of the senior runners for now.”
Credence nodded, stunned he had gotten the job so easily.
Mr. Ash did...something...under the desk and an older boy about fifteen or so appeared.
“Yes, Boss?”
“Bring Credence with you to the mess hall,” said Mr. Ash. “Make sure he eats at least two full plates before he meets the runners.”
“Yes boss,” said the runner.
Credence quietly followed the older runner.
“Just got hired?” he asked knowingly.
Credence nodded.
“Mr. Ash takes his workers health seriously. If you're havin' trouble putting food on the table, he make sure you eat somethin' fillin' before he puts you to work. And he don't skimp out on the pay. So long as you do the work, you'll get your coin,” said the runner.
It was why the dock workers loved the guy. He wasn't union technically, but he treated those who were with proper respect and didn't try to cut corners.
The fact he was helping their families and friends put food on the table didn't hurt either. Sure he was a bit odd for hiring dames, but it was honest work and meant they could add a bit of extra money to the household budget. Besides, it was just paperwork and doing communal child care.
Credence looked at the full plate and had trouble believing it was all for him.
He felt incredibly guilty, knowing his mother and the orphans were all going without but he was so very hungry.
The day was rather exhausting, but Credence had to stare at the moderately sized sack of potatoes in his hands.
“Payday don't come till Friday,” said Adrian, the runner he was assigned to. “But the boss lets people take home food that got too damaged to sell.”
More like he knew most families didn't like to rely on charity, but sending the children home with 'extras' that were 'too damaged' to sell was a compromise everyone could agree to. It kept their pride from accepting free food.
His mother was displeased, but said nothing when she accepted the slightly bruised potatoes. Credence accepted his soup without a word, despite being rather full from the mess hall.
He felt only relief when his mother reluctantly allowed him to continue his extra work with Mr. Ash after he brought home a small chicken, some potatoes and carrots. And that was after he handed over the modest pay the Boss had given him for a week's work.
At least he didn't have to hand out those leaflets and see people's nasty stares.
~*~*~*~*
Credence sat patiently as Mrs. Rogers examined him. She was really nice and her son Steve was sweet.
“A bit thin, but otherwise healthy,” she announced.
“Thank you. I was worried when one of my hardest workers almost had a rather nasty accident,” said Mr. Ash. He was also holding little Steve, as the boy was rambunctious despite being a bit sickly.
Credence ducked his head embarrassed at the praise.
Sarah Rogers was a widow who lost her husband due to complications from the massive war a few years prior. She had Steve shortly after her husband died, but there were few places willing to hire a single mother when there were so many soldiers and new families who needed jobs.
Mr. Ash had taken one look at her credentials and hired her on the spot to act as the on-call nurse for his men...and as an unofficial pediatrician for the communal daycare he had created for the women.
It was steady pay and she would forever be grateful to the strange Boss who took such good care of his people.
Mrs. Rogers left with her son, who was more interested in drawing and playing with his best friend Bucky than important grown up talk.
Mr. Ash looked at Credence seriously. He had been steadily moving up among the runners and would soon be given a chance to get an apprenticeship. It was one of the reasons why so many families happily accepted Mr. Ash sending their children on random errands for such low pay.
“Credence...is there anything you'd like to explain?” Mr. Ash asked gently.
Credence began to tremble, terrified Mr. Ash or someone else would mention this incident to his mother. He knew he had done a bad thing, and that his mother would punish him again.
However there was only empathy in Mr. Ash's eyes as he stared down the preteen before him.
“Credence, you can be honest. Whatever you say now will not get back to your mother,” said Mr. Ash quietly.
“She'll hit me again,” said Credence, holding back tears. Mostly from the memory of all the other times she had hit him.
“Why will she hit you?”
“Because I did it again. I did the bad thing.”
Credence almost couldn't take the kindness in Mr. Ash's eyes. There was a strange sort of empathy...and recognition in them.
Mr. Ash reached into the pouch he always had on him...and pulled out a strange crystal. He handed it to Credence, and it lit up without any warning. Credence very nearly dropped the crystal.
“I had a feeling,” sighed Mr. Ash. “Though why they haven't picked up on your ability is a bit puzzling.”
“Boss?”
“You have magic. A good bit, enough to qualify for magical training at any of the main schools,” said Mr. Ash.
Credence flinched at the very word. Mr. Ash gave him a knowing look.
“Let me guess. Someone did pick up on the fact you're a wizard and came to the house, but your mother reacted badly to the knowledge that magic exists.”
Credence remained silent, as he did vaguely recall a stranger visiting before being firmly kicked out by his mother a few months back. Come to think of it, she only started proclaiming magic was real and that wands were evil around that time.
“That explains quite a bit,” said Mr. Ash sourly.
“Boss?” said Credence, looking small.
“Magic isn't evil. I had wondered why your mother specifically started up that Second Salem group with a portrait of a snapped wand when she's completely mundane, but this explains everything. I swear, the people responsible for insuring magic stays secret are incompetent,” said Mr. Ash, reaching for a new cigar.
Credence looked confused, but he had come to trust Mr. Ash. The man was stern, but kind and fair. And he treated his workers like family.
Quite a few people had said that if Mr. Ash had run for mayor that he would win by a landslide.
Mr. Ash took a deep inhale of his odd cigars.
“Credence, I'm going to offer you a choice. You don't have to accept it right away,” Mr. Ash said slowly.
“A choice, sir?”
“I can teach you magic. Real magic, enough to pass the exams and be considered a proper wizard. It won't be easy, and you'll likely have to hide this from your mother until you're of age.”
Credence stared at his boss, eyes wide.
“I...I can learn magic?”
“I know about the situation you're in at home. However I kept quiet because I know that pressing you on the issue would likely make things worse for you short term. If you agree, I can help do something about the scarring on your back and help slowly ease you out of that place,” said Mr. Ash quietly.
“Why?”
“Because no one ever paid attention to the fact I was being raised in a household that hated something that was as much a part of me as being able to breathe for ten long years, and even then I had to return to that place for reasons I still have doubts about,” said Mr. Ash bluntly. “I know what it's like being in a house that hates magic and anything to do with it.”
Credence knew his boss was telling the truth. Mr. Ash hated liars above anything and was bluntly honest to his people. Which was another reason why those who worked under him or for him loved the man. If he gave you his word he would do something, or that he would keep a secret, he meant it.
Mr. Ash gave him a slight smile.
“Would you like to see what you'll be walking into, at least?”
One look at the magical side of the business had Credence hooked. He stared in amazement at the wondrous creatures, plants and even the non-human workers who worked under the Boss.
He almost thought it was a dream until Mr. Ash had him enter the 'special' office where he took care of the magical side of things.
“Shall we begin?”
~*~*~*~*~
Credence kept looking at the strange crystal Mr. Ash had given him. Considering the situation he was in, it wasn't safe to give him a proper wand just yet.
Besides, he had to work on learning the basics before he would be allowed to cast any spells, since they had to go to a special area to cast anything.
Mr. Ash didn't want the magical government to know about his operation, as they took a dim view of “muggles” using magical artifacts to get around customs and border control. Suddenly the little things about the 'special export business' made a lot more sense about how Mr. Ash was able to move so much without having to pay out the nose for it.
Credence clutched the crystal like a life line. It would help to absorb the extra bits of magic so that he wouldn't be noticed by his mother again, and had a minor effect of making her look away from her son if anything strange happened.
He had already seen it work, as her eyes had glazed over slightly when she went to berate him for being out so late with little to show for it.
Mr. Ash had calmly explained that the effect would not harm or hinder his mother. She would still be the same person...it just made him invisible to her for the most part if she wanted to hurt him for being a little different.
If it meant not being beaten anymore, he was okay with that.
~*~*~*~*
Ash looked at the scroll on their desk, mostly in disbelief.
“How the bloody hell did that old bastard misplace his own nephew?” Ash muttered.
If any of the workers had walked into the office, they would have been in for a rather large shock.
Most of them knew the boss as “Mr. Ash”, a strange but fair Boss who took care of them.
Ash Potter looked at the scroll in her hands, her neck-length red hair flowing down her back as it was no longer constrained by the spell in her special hat. She hated wearing that thing, but it was easier to get things done if people believed she was a man. No one respected women as equals among the mundane population during the roaring twenties. The magical side was only slightly better, but they still expected witches to settle down young and pop out as many magical babies as possible.
She had taken Credence to a muggleborn healer to get a full magical work-up, if only to avoid surprises. He hadn't questioned her borrowing a bit of blood during the exam.
She had no idea her former headmaster even had a nephew.
The scroll in her hands was rather clear on Credence's lineage. Or rather Aurelius Dumbledore, son of Aberworth Dumbledore.
From what she could tell, Mary Lou Barebone was not even Credence's actual mother. How she came into possession of him was a mystery, but not one she was ready to solve just yet.
This was such a mess.