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Chapter Text

Cold.

That’s all Credence Barebone can think of as his hands tremble and yet another passerby refuses to take a pamphlet from him. He’d been standing on the corner two blocks from the second salmeners church for the better part of four hours. But Ma told him not to come home till the either the pamphlets were all handed out or the sun set. And he hoped the pamphlets were all gone before the sun set.

He would be beaten for the sunset.

At least his new friend was with him again. At first he thought maybe he was hallucinating it from the cold when he saw his friend for the first time. A black fox in the middle of New York City was unheard and credence had never seen a fox in person so when he told his mother about the odd little fox that he saw over a dinner of thin soup. His mother simply said,

“Those rich folk are always bringing in exotic pets from god forsaken places. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was someone’s pet that got loose.” That seemed like a reasonable explanation to Credence and he even told the fox that one day.

“Ma says you’re some rich person’s pet who got loose, is that true?” he asked rubbing his hands to keep warm. He had ducked into the alley way after the wind suddenly picked up one evening to stay warm as best he could. The fox of course didn’t respond, rather its response was a solitary ear twitch. And when Credence held out his hand for the fox to sniff hoping it would at least let him feel its breath, the fox leapt from the trashcans it sat on sending them tumbling with a crash and darted down the alley way and away from Credence.  

That was weeks ago and Credence didn’t dare approach the fox again for fear of scaring it off permanently this time. He now contented himself with gazing at it from afar and wishing he had a thick coat of fur to ward off the cold like the fox did.

After another hour, the sun finally set and Credence with a sigh resigned himself to returning to the church and his punishment his mother had no doubt planned for him. As he made his way back pulling his coat tighter around himself he couldn’t help but feel that he was being followed. He quickened his pace and didn’t look back as the feeling grew stronger, whatever was following him had also awakened the thing that lived inside Credence.

 Fight it whispered to him making his head pound and his blood roar in his ears. So lost in his internal agony, Credence stumbled and fell. He gasped as his knees hit the cold concrete, the pain momentarily overriding the thing inside him. He turned and stopped breathing, a creature dressed in rags glided towards him. Boney hands outstretched making to grab him, the thing inside him shrieked in rage and in challenge and it felt like Credence was being torn from the inside out as the thing tried to escape, tried to fight.

Credence heard someone yelling but barely registered it as he stared at what was to be his end. A burst of light came from behind him suddenly.  It caused the creature to emit a horrible shriek and it recoiled as if in pain. Credence watched as ghostly bloodhound bounded in front of him baying as it the light seemed to emit from the dog. And as the dog approached the creature the light grew brighter. Credence gasped as the thing inside him recoiled in fear from the dog as if it was afraid of it as well. And as soon as it had appeared the creature fled the alley, darting into the sky and vanishing. The spectral bloodhound turned to look at Credence its tail wagging slowly and Credence did what any rational person would do.

He fainted.

Percival Graves wasn’t thinking as he shifted from fox to man. He wasn’t thinking as he pulled out his wand and roared the spell calling his patronus forth. He only started thinking as he stood over the boy he had been watching for weeks laying on the cold pavement and snow began to lightly fall.

“Shit.” Was all he could think of.

Chapter Text

He woke up in his own bed.

What woke him was the sudden sharpness in his lower back as a spring from the mattress finally tore through its cloth prison and into his back. He sat up with a hiss and covered the spot where the dull pulse of pain was coming from with his hand. As he rubbed the spot he looked out the window and saw night had fallen and the snow had started to fall in earnest now.  He didn’t remember going to bed and the candle that his mother let him burn for a few short hours at night was unlit for the evening which meant it must not have been long.

His stomach growled and he couldn’t help but sigh.  It was not an unusual noise for Credence, He was always hungry. He hoped his mother left some dinner for him since it was the middle of the week after all and that’s when mother resigned herself to feeding her own children. The rest of the week’s meals of course depended on whether they earned it or not.

He got out of bed and made his way out onto the hallway. There he found his two sisters, Modesty and Chasity peaking over the staircase banner and into the church pews below. Credence was going to reprimand them about spying when suddenly he heard his mother speak. So, he crouched down with them instead not meeting his sisters questioning gazes.

“I’m sure when my dear son wakes up he’ll be more than happy to escort you home for saving him from the dreadful cold.” He heard his mother say sweetly.

“That won’t be necessary, I am more than capable of seeing myself home.” Came a

 gruff response. It was then Credence remembered what had happened, some creature had appeared in the alley way he had been walking through. He remembered the bitter cold as the creature seemed to suck the life out of him and the intense heat he felt threatening to tear him apart in response. The sparkling dog that charged the creature shielding Credence with a powerful light that made his bones sing, and the powerful voice that was now speaking to his mother in the church.

Modesty turned to look at his older brother who was by now three shades whiter than he was just moments ago and pointed at the stairs mouthing the word ‘go’ to him. That must have meant his mother had heard the floorboards creak and knew he was awake. Credence couldn’t help but clench his hands to stop from shaking and after a few moments with his hands now barely trembling. He made his way downstairs trying to make as little noise as possible.

“Ah and here he is!  Now come down here Credence and meet the man who found and saved you in the alley way.” His mother said smiling towards him, her smile was warm but her eyes promised a punishment later for being so careless and forcing someone to help him. Credence focused himself on the man who was standing in the center aisle looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here. The man was tall and wore an expensive black winter coat and blue scarf. His hair was impossibly black slicked back with both sides shaved as was the fashion for men of his age. It was eyes that unnerved Credence the most though, a plain brown they seemed almost feral as the bore into him as if some animal was behind the man’s eyes.

“Percival Graves.” The man said suddenly holding out his hand, it took an embarrassingly long time for Credence to realize this man, Percival was waiting for him to take his hand.

“Credence Barebone.” He said softly, cheeks hot with embarrassment as he grabbed Percival’s callused hand.  “Thank you for saving me.” He continued letting his hand drop and his eyes as well.

“It was no trouble; I wouldn’t have found you if it wasn’t for my dog taking off so suddenly.” Mr. Graves said gesturing to the bloodhound that was laying at his feet watching the conversation between them with droopy eyes. Credence couldn’t help but think that the dog looked nothing like the dog he saw jump in front of the creature that he had seen in the alley way but he brushed the thought aside.

Don’t be stupid Credence. He reprimanded, there was no creature, you fainted because it was cold anything before that was a hallucination.

“Are you sure you don’t need to be escorted home? I will be more than happy to lend Credence to you to help you home.” Credence couldn’t help but think Mr. Graves was suppressing the urge to rolls his eyes at his mother as she spoke.

“I have Roger with me, I’ll be fine.” He said dismissively. At the mention of his name the bloodhound stood up and shook himself before making his way to the church doors, scratching them as if begging to be let out. They regarded the dog for a moment in an uneasy silence before Mr. Graves spoke again.

“Well I believe that is my cue to head home, goodnight Ms. Barebone and to you as well Credence.” Not waiting for a response, Mr. Graves turned on his heel and walked down the aisle his coat billowing slightly as he did. He paused at the donation box before he left, there seemed to be an internal struggle within him before he fished into his coat pocket and pulled out a few coins.

“For a new winter coat.” He said dropping the coins into the box “So no one has faint from the cold again.” And with that he left the church, Roger close at his heels. There were a few moments after the door shut that Credence had hope. Hope that his mother wasn’t mad at him for fainting. Hope that he would have dinner tonight. And hope that he would see Mr. Graves again. But that hope dimmed as his mother clucked her tongue at him and dropped her sweet smile and held out her hand. Credence turned towards her, already undoing his belt as he did. A small part of him howled to defy her but he squashed the idea and handed her the belt.  

There would be no dinner tonight either he supposed.

Percival walked three blocks with Roger at his heels before Roger the dog became Roger the man with light brown hair and hazel eyes.

“I owe you one.” Percival said offering a cigarette after already lighting his own. Rogers declined the offer with a shrugged,

“After all you’ve done for me, posing as your trusted bloodhound patronus look alike was no problem.” he said. They walked in easy silence for a while, Percival puffing away on his cigarette and Roger trying to resist the urge to sniff everyone that walked by.

“But why was it so important to keep up the charade? You could have easily altered his memories and casted a warmth charm to last till he woke up.” Rogers suddenly questioned as they stopped on a street corner where they were to go their separate ways. “Why go through all this trouble for a No-Maj?” Percival took a drag of his cigarette and held his breath.

He should have told Rogers the truth. That when he did try to alter the memories, something wouldn’t let him even touch the boys mind, something dark and seething that was begging to be let out.  That he had a premonition several nights ago, about some dark creature that promised death and destruction. The dream had woken him up in a cold sweat and a protection spell half formed in the air. And the realization as his patronus faded away and he stood over the boy who looked half-starved with snow falling lightly all around him, that this was not a coincidence that the darkness surrounding the boy felt a lot like the one in his dream because there were no coincidences in Percival’s life. 

“Felt bad for the kid,” was what he said instead exhaling as he spoke. “Plus you know I’m crap at charms.” He continued and Rogers laughed

“right probably would have turned him into a newt or something.” Rogers still laughing said. “But it is odd, isn’t it? That a Dementor would target a No-Maj like that.”

“Yes odd indeed.” Percival mused dropping his cigarette and grinding it down with his shoe. “Well you better get on home; your missus is probably missing you already.” Percival held his hand which Roger grasped in return and firmly shook that.

“Nah she would have sent a howler if she did.” And with that Rogers walked a few paces and apparated away leaving Percival to his thoughts.  Percival huffed a breath and started walking down the street towards his empty and possibly cold apartment. The thought of an empty apartment was enough to make Percival take his sweet time home. He wondered if he could possibly have called up that blonde that had come to bed with him a few nights before. But the man was probably busy with other clients and it Percival never liked appearing without any warning. He sighed and reached into his coat pocket for another cigarette but hesitated, that Barebone woman hadn’t looked happy when he had appeared half dragging Credence into the church and up the stairs to the abysmal room that was supposedly his.

The kid is probably getting the life beaten out of him again. He thought finally pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, cupping the flame with his hand to protect it from the wind.  Percival had seen the beatings that woman unleashed upon her adoptive son, they were brutal and often extensive and it always had Percival growling softly to himself and his fur bristling as he watched and restrained himself from stopping her.

Can’t get involved, not yet he would tell himself as he watched this poor boy never beg for mercy knowing it would enrage his mother. Figure out what’s going on first.  But the fox in him howled for justice and often he was forced to flee the scene and shift into his human form just to bring back rational thought.

Now the mere thought of Credence getting a beating because of what Percival did had him making his second stupid decision of the night. With a sigh, he tossed the half-used cigarette into a snow bank and casting a see me not charm and shifted into his fox form and darted up the street back to the blackened church of the Barebones.

Chapter Text

The church was silent when Percival skidded to a stop in front of it, panting a little from the run. He sniffed the air hesitantly before padding softly up the stairs and to the front door. He tested the door with a paw and found it snugly shut against the cold. Percival let out a growl of frustration and bounded back down the steps. He paced for a moment before deciding to check for a way in from the back of the church. He trotted around the corner of the church looking up as he did and spotted a light coming out of the second story window. It was faint but almost nonexistent but his keen fox eyes picked it up as if it was a burning beacon. That must be Credence’s room. He thought to himself, He must still be awake.

            His nostrils flared and the smell that was present at the Dementor attack was back but this time it was faint like it was being smothered, but it was the same. The smell of fear with a metallic tinge that smelled like blood. But what perplexed him was the faint tang of copper which Percival remembers from school meant there was some magic present in the area. The smell perplexed him because it shouldn’t be present in the church of second salemeners, a church that was all for burning witches and destroying magic.

            Percival sat down and wrapped his tail neatly around his paws and started to think. He could shift and simply apparat into Credence’s room under an invisibility spell and check on him. But he may not apparat in the right spot or worse yet mess up the charm of invisibility thus making it a horrible and somewhat awkward idea. He could even just send in a wisp to confirm that Credence was alive but all those ideas weren’t going to confirm Percival that the smell was tied to Credence. So, Percival sat until the snow stopped falling and the light in the window disappeared which was only an hour after he had arrived.

             He let out a puff of breath that sounded very much like a human sigh and stood up and shook himself free of snow. Stretching himself he felt his joints pop and creak reminding him that he was getting too old for these kinds of things. He regarded the woodpile that leaned against the church and to the window that was slightly ajar above it.  Bunching himself up he leapt onto the pile.

            As soon as he landed on the pile he felt himself start to lose his balance on a log. He couldn’t help but let out a sharp bark of surprise as he started to tumble back off the pile. He leapt away from the logs as they fell and he went crashing into the trash bins sending those falling over as well. There was a resounding crash that echoed in the still night air and every instinct in Percival screamed at him to run into the night and abandon his plan. But he stopped himself from sprinting all the way back to his apartment and forced himself to crouch low in the shadows of the alley way.  

            But as the seconds ticked by with no lights being turned on or the back door swinging open to reveal Mary Lou Barebone with a shotgun.  Percival felt himself relax and he stood up and shook himself to settle his bristled fur. He let huffed of annoyance at himself for being so stupid and clumsy and decided it was time to go home to his apartment for the night.

He turned to walk away but hesitated as he heard a movement from within the church. He spun around as the back door slowly swung open and saw a familiar shape peering from behind the half open door. 

            Credence’s face was collage of bruises and swelling, one of his eyes was swollen shut and already turning dark purple, his lip was split and one of his cheek had a deep gash running down the side. Percival somehow knew that a belt buckle had done that damage to Credence’s face and couldn’t contain the rage that rose within him causing his fur to stand on end and the blood to roar in his ears.

            Credence was shivering, clad in only a dirty white undershirt and pants. With his good eye, he scanned the back alley searching for whatever had made the noise. He spotted the trashcans and logs scattered about and his eyes went wide in panic.  Not bothering to grab a coat, he stepped out of the church and into the snow and quickly picked up the logs and started putting them back on the pile. When the logs where back in place, he began picking up the trash but paused and looked down at something bright red. Percival cursed his stupidity again at the realization at what he was looking at.

A blood trail leading from the trash straight into the alley way, straight to Percival.

Credence didn’t breathe.

The blood trail led straight to a shape in the alley way. It’s the creature from before his mind supplied unhelpfully. But Credence knew it wasn’t.  there wasn’t that overwhelming feeling of dread like before and the shape was much too small for it to be it. probably an animal of some sort. He thought.  He debated whether to resume picking up the trash and leaving the animal to do whatever it was doing before he came out to investigate the noise. But some part of him felt bad for it. Obviously, it was hurt from the tumble it more than likely took from the log pile and didn’t seem inclined to leave with Credence there.  It’s hurting just like I am he thought as he stared at the shape in the alley way. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness in his chest at the thought of the creature in pain and suffering like he was. 

“Come here.” Credence whispered, slowly crouching down even though his ribs screamed in protest. “I won’t hurt you.” He said holding out his palm, he had the put his other hand onto the snow covered ground to support himself as he crouched. The bitter cold biting his fingers kept him from focused on not passing out. And there they stayed for a few moments, the mass in the alley way unmoving and Credence crouched in the snow slowly starting to lose feeling in his feet and hand. At last it was Credence who broke the silence that was starting to suffocate him as it always did. “Please” he whispered almost brokenly “Let me help you at least.” He said mostly to himself. But the animal must have heard him because there was movement in the alley way and at last Credence got a good look at what was hiding in the shadows.

It was the black fox from the other day. It was carrying its front leg gingerly, blood dripping from the leg sluggishly making bright red dots in the snow. The fox regarded him warily as it hobbled closer to Credence. It stopped just shy of Credence’s hand, sniffing the air when it did.

“It’s cold out, isn’t it?” Credence asked biting his bottom lip to keep from chattering. The ear flick was the only response Credence once again received. “Why don’t you let me take care of your leg? I’m really good at wrapping wounds like that.” He cringed at the thought of the last time he had to wrap a wound like that. It was when Modesty had upset mother by talking back to her in a fit of rebellion. She had been dragged into the kitchen and mother had held her arm down onto the stovetop. Credence can still hear how his sister struggled against her mother’s iron grip but never once screaming or uttering a sound. That night Credence had ripped up his nicest shirt and bound his sister wound all the while wishing he was the one who had been burned.

            Credence shook his head and refocused himself in the present and stood up quickly grabbing the hem of his shirt and tearing a large strip off the bottom. The sudden noise caused the fox to leap back from him, its ears pressing back against its skull.

“Sorry this is all I have right now.” Credence said crouching back down and holding his make shift bandage out towards the fox so the fox could see it for himself. The fox approached slowly and sniffed the rag. After a few seconds the fox seemed to decide that Credence was going to help, it sat down and held out his injure leg to Credence as if to say, “go ahead.”  Credence sighed in relief and gingerly took the fox’s leg into his hand.

            He was surprised how soft the fox’s fur was. It was the softest thing he had ever felt and he couldn’t help but marvel at how it felt against his own skin. But as Credence held the fox’s paw and applied the makeshift bandage, the creature that lived inside him began to stir. It began to whisper to him that he needed to leave or worse yet kill the fox and how easy it would be to snap its neck and leave it in the snow. Just when the voice was threatening to overwhelm him, there was a breath of hot air against his palm as the fox knelt his head closer to see what Credence was doing to his leg.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I’m not very fast at this, or good at it for that matter.” The fox looked up at him for a moment before looking back at his leg. The gash had stopped bleeding by the time he had wrapped it and Credence hope that it wouldn’t need stitches.

“There all done. Now you are free to run on home without leaving a trail.” He said standing up and dusting his hands off trying to rewarm his hands. The fox sniffed the wrap on his leg before gingerly setting it down. The fox stood there and seemed to be waiting for him to do something else.

“Do you want to come inside?” he asked without thinking. The fox titled its head to the side in question. “I mean, its warmer inside. Not much warmer but it’s something.” Credence briefly wondered how his mother would react to a fox sleeping in Credence’s bed.  But right now, Credence didn’t care, he would suffer the consequences if he was caught. The fox had seemed to make the decision anyways as it shook itself once and limped towards the backdoors of the church.

Chapter Text

Percival woke up slowly. He started with moving his hands and feet slowly and to his relief they were still paws. Sometimes the magic is released when you sleep in your animagus form. He remembers his transfiguration teacher telling him once You must make sure some part of you is holding onto your form or else you may find yourself in awkward situations. Percival had made a lewd comment about exactly what kind of situation one could find themselves in when the teacher had said that but now he was just glad he held the form seeing as he was coiled around head of the Barebone boy.

            It wasn’t on purpose Percival told himself, as he slowly opened his eyes and regarded the room around him. It was just after slowly climbing the stairs and Credence silently slipping into bed and gesturing for Percival to join him, that he realized just how tired he was from the events of that night.  So, Percival had started at the foot of the bed, wrapped tightly around himself and as far from Credence as he could put himself. Credence had instantly dropped off into sleep, his breathing evening out almost instantly like he had flicked a switch. But Percival despite his tiredness, stayed awake. He let the sights and smells of the room was over him as he laid there. He smelt the cooper tang of magic faintly, it had made its appearance again when Credence started wrapping his leg and left no doubt in his Percival’s mind that somehow Credence had some type of magic. Obviously not healing magic Percival thought mentally cataloguing the various injuries he had seen on the boy. But something is going on with him, but just what exactly I’m not sure. Magic usually made its appearance before puberty for wizards and witches. Sure, there are late bloomers at thirteen, fourteen but twenty? Something wasn’t adding up.

            Maybe he’s just a no maj with a side of magic. Those weren’t unusual but Credence shouldn’t have enough magic in him then to attract a Dementor. With questions Percival couldn’t answer, he watched the boy sleep. It was then that he noticed the slight tremble from Credence who was only wrapped in a thread bare blanket. If anyone were to ask Percival why he got up from the end of the bed and plopped down onto Credence’s pillow and buried his face into the boy’s hair breathing in the scent of him. He would first tell you where you could put your question and then he would say it was the fox part of him instinctually looking for the warmest spot to sleep on.

            Now Percival regretted his decision as he let out a yawn and licked his chops and looked out the window to see early morning light beginning to peak through the buildings. Not only was he on Credence’s head, making it almost impossible for him to leave without waking him up. He was also very content not to leave. It had been awhile since he had been in bed with anyone, not since his last partner left claiming the hours Percival held were too erratic and he mentioned a few other things about Percival that were better left not thought about. So, lying in bed with another human was comforting to him regardless that he was in his animagus form. He was also enjoying the smell of Credence. When Credence wasn’t cowering in fear or covered in the scent of magic, he smelled like river water and orchids. Both things Percival was now finding himself liking intensely. He was just about resettle himself back to sleep when a shadow flew past the window.

            Mr. Graves. A feminine voice chirped in his mind and Percival let out a soft growl.

            Tina.  He said curtly, now without a doubt he had to get up. He slowly rose from his spot careful not to let himself touch Credence for fear of waking him and leapt down softly onto the floor with a soft thud and stretched himself, letting his claws dig into the floorboards as he did.

            You have a meeting with the President this morning. Tina said as she settled herself on the window ledge. Fox regarded hawk for a moment, before Tina stretched a wing out and began preening herself

            I don’t have to meet with her for another two hours and you know that Percival said watching her preen.

            Yes, I know but when I went to your apartment this morning with the reports from last night and you weren’t home I began to worry that you had been caught and made into a hat finally.

            Well as you can see I’m not a fashionable hat now go back to the offices and we’ll discuss the difference between personal and work boundaries. Again.

            I think you need to have that discussion with yourself sir and before Percival could respond, Tina launched herself off the window and flew off. Percival couldn’t help but growl to himself in annoyance as he made his way to the bedroom door.  To his dismay, he found the door locked thus trapping him in the room. He debated shifting and opening the door himself but he worried that the sudden weight change on the floorboards would make too much noise. He whined softly and pawed at the door uselessly. Maybe he should wake up Credence, he thought to himself as he stared at the door.

            But there was a movement from behind him and he whirled around to see Modesty and Chasity, Credence’s sisters staring at him from the bed across from Credence’s. Percival pressed his ears against the base of his skull and hunkered low to the ground trying to seem as defenseless as possible. The sisters regarded him for a moment before Modesty quietly slipped out of bed and walked towards Percival. Percival wagged his tail slightly as she approached to seem friendly. But Modesty walked right past him and quietly opened the door for him without making any sound.

            “Mother keeps the kitchen window open slightly.” Chasity whispered from the bed, “But watch the third step, it creaks when you step on it.” And with that Chasity rolled back over and Modesty slipped past him and back into the shared bed. Stunned Percival turned around and without looking back slipped out the now open door and down the stairs.

Credence had dreamed of foxes, it was a nice dream for once. He had dreamt that the black fox leapt and seemed to dance in a field of wild flowers with other foxes. Credence was himself an observer in the dream, but he didn’t mind. He just didn’t want the dream to end.

            So, he couldn’t help but be disappointed when he woke up he found to find that the black fox was gone. And one look from his sisters over their meager and albeit watery oatmeal that morning told him that they had seen the fox and it had safety left. So, Credence happily clung to the dream like a lifeline the rest of the day. He thought of it as his mother held a rally in front of a bank. He thought he could smell the flowers as he attempted to hand out flyers with his sisters. He thought he saw the black fox that morning but it had turned out to be a black cat but Credence didn’t mind. That meant the fox was somewhere healing safe and warm and not out in the bitter cold like he was. He was day dreaming when someone took a flyer from him and stopped to read it.

            “Do you believe in all of this?” the voice asked and Credence snapped out of his thoughts as he recognized the voice. Mr. Graves stood in front of him holding the flyer in his gloved hand and scanning it as he spoke.

            “I mean witches can’t be this bad.” He continued, “I don’t think they actively lure children from their homes to eat them.”

            “They’re a sin against god!” Credence blurted out, “They are creatures made by the devil to lure god’s children from his side.” The lie felt foul on his tongue but he saw his mother watching from across the street as she spoke with a group of men.

            “Well why does god allow them to exist then? Why doesn’t he just destroy them and be done with it?” Mr. Graves asked lowering the flyer to look at him.

            “Because they are also here to test our faith,” Credence said averting his eyes from the man. “It helps us prove that if we can ride ourselves of them without his help it means we are worthy of him.” Mr. Graves didn’t say anything but handed the flyer back to Credence who accepted it back meekly.

            “That’s a good story your mom is spinning for the crowd, but what do you believe?” He asked, tugging on his gloves to readjust them.

            “I believe the same thing my mother does sir.” Was all Credence said still avoiding eye contact.

            “Maybe you should do a little digging yourself. Who knows, the salemeners have been wrong before maybe they’re wrong again.” Credence looked at Mr. Graves finally and saw that him fiddling with a bandage on his left arm.

            “Did you hurt yourself sir?” Credence asked as Mr. Graves pulled down his coat to cover it before speaking.

            Mr. Graves shrugged, “Roger jumped on me this morning in his excitement over breakfast, nothing to worry about it will heal in a few days.”

“Oh.” Was all Credence said looking away again. He could feel Mr. Graves staring at him, but Credence couldn’t look into those eyes again.

            “Can we discuss your mother’s teachings over coffee? My treat of course.” Mr. Graves said suddenly. Credence’s head snapped up and he was ready to blurt out an excuse but when he looked at Mr. Graves again, the words died on his tongue. He had seen those eyes before he suddenly realized, they had been the eyes of the fox. Credence’s mind reeled, as he realized the bandage on Mr. Graves’s arm matched the same spot on the fox and though that it may be a mere coincidence, Credence couldn’t help but think it was odd. But how could Mr. Graves be the fox? Credence knew werewolves weren’t real, that was a story you told children to keep them in at night. But werefoxes maybe? Could those be real?

            He isn’t human, we should kill him…won’t mother be so proud? The voice purred in the Credence’s mind. Think of how she’d reward you for such a feat.

             But Mr. Graves is a nice man and the eyes could just be a coincidence, Credence thought. And before Credence could do anything the creature took him over. He dropped the flyers and grabbed Mr. Graves bandaged arm and squeezed making his own bones ache from the force. Credence bit back a scream as he tried to regain control but the creature had been waiting for this moment of doubt and wasn’t willing to let go. Mr. Graves on the other hand was in control of his body and attempted to pull away from Credence speaking quickly as he did, but Credence couldn’t hear him over the blood pounding in his ears. Mr. Graves reached into his coat pocket suddenly and the creature raged.

            He’s got a gun, the voice roared He’s gonna kill us if we don’t kill him first! The creature forced Credence to lunge for Mr. Graves other hand but Mr. Graves spoke once more he could grab it.

“Crucio” was all he said and suddenly Credence was in complete agony, his bones had been set on fire and the creature released control of his body with a howl and Credence let go of Mr. Graves. He started to see spots in his vision and felt himself begin to fall but Mr. Graves caught him before he could hit the pavement.

            “It’s okay, I got you. It will pass, deep breaths now.” Credence clung to Mr. Graves as the pain subsided, leaving him trembling and tears in his eyes. 

            “I’m going to let you go now okay?” Mr. Graves said slowly releasing his hold on Credence. Credence was still shaking; the pain was gone but the feeling of it was still there.  How had Mr. Graves done that? Or was it the creature who caused him so much pain? Maybe it was god helping him control the creature inside of him. Whatever it was Credence didn’t want to experience it again.

            “I’m sorry Mr. Graves…” he stammered “I don’t kn-know what came over me.”  He looked at Mr. Graves who was very pale and seemed to be debating whether to leave or call the police.

            “It’s okay, the cold does things to you when you’ve been out in it for too long.” It was a lie, Credence knew it but he didn’t care. He grabbed onto it and made it the truth.

            “Maybe now you’ll accept my offer for a hot cup of coffee?” Mr. Graves said and Credence couldn’t help but nod meekly.

            “I’ll go talk to your mother, you stay right here.” Mr. Graves had cupped Credence’s face forcing him to look at him and Credence couldn’t help but feel a warmth pooling in his stomach at the touch. Mr. Graves regarded him and whispered a word and Credence felt a strange static over him and Mr. Graves frowned before dropping his hands from Credence’s face and walking towards his mother across the way.

Chapter Text

Percival lit a cigarette and savored the sweet smoke that mixed with the snow cold air taking in the view of New York from his fire balcony outside his apartment.

He hated himself.

No not hate, despised himself for what he had done.

 I used an unforgivable curse on a no-maj He thought stirring sugar into his black coffee. Might as well turn in my wand and go live in the woods after this. He brought the cigarette to his lips and let it rest there as he thought back to earlier this evening.

Credence had not moved an inch and looked very shell shocked to say the least when Percival had come back to get him after paying his mother ten dollars. Mrs. Barebone gave Percival a warning of keeping the bruising under the clothes which almost made him use the curse again this time on Credence’s mother. But he shook the idea out of his head and grabbed Credence by the arm and all but dragged him to the nearest diner. Surrounded by other no-majs and some wizards who nodded at Percival in recognition as they made it to a booth in the far back is when it seemed that Credence had come back to himself, well Percival thought he did until he reached over to grab the sugar bowl next to Credence and Credence all but launched himself out of the booth to get away from Percival.

Percival froze, his hand poised over the bowl and Credence half out of the booth his eyes wide and blown wide waiting for what happened next. Percival sighed and slowly withdrew his hand back over to his side.

“I’m not gonna hurt you kid.” He sighed, shifting so he leaned back slightly forcing himself to seem nonchalant. Credence slowly took his seat back on the booth and started pinching his skin on his wrist, a nervous tick Percival mused.

“You did something…to me.” Credence all but whispered.

“I didn’t do anything to you.” Percival said slowly, spinning his coffee cup by the handle. Credence stopped pulling at his skin and looked up at him. As soon as they locked eyes Percival felt it, a primal magic that charged the air around them and caused the fox inside him to bristle and an involuntary shiver to travel down his spine.

“You said something and suddenly I couldn’t move or breath.” Credence challenged, the fear must have worn off replaced by anger.

“Well unless you’re a vampire the word Crucifix shouldn’t affect you that much.” Percival lied easily. “When you grabbed me I said, ‘Jesus on a crucifix’ because you surprised me that’s all.” He took a sip of his coffee as he watched Credence process his response. 

“Then you surprised me again when you collapsed onto the ground…does that happen often?” He continued sipping his bitter coffee.

“Sometimes when I don’t eat enough.” Credence whispered slowly sitting back up on the booth.

“Your mother seems well fed as well the same with your sisters.” At the mention of his sisters Credence clenched his fists, that strange energy come off him again.

“My sisters need more than I do so I take less than I need so they can have enough.” Which wasn’t a lie.  Percival thought thinking back to last night in the bedroom and how the sisters had several blankets and were situated next to the chimney pipe to keep warm while Credence took one blanket and slept next to the window.

“You’re very protective of your sisters, aren’t you?”

“Wouldn’t you be?”

“I was.” Percival said taking another sip of coffee, he made a face at the bitterness hoping to hide the flash of sadness that he felt.  Credence though it seemed had caught the look and with a grim determination but a shaky hand pushed the sugar bowl towards him.

“Sorry.” He murmured as Percival added a spoonful of sugar to his coffee.

“Don’t worry about it, it was a long time ago anyways.” Percival said, refusing to let the memories make their way to the surface. They sat for a while in silence, Credence staring at the table as if it could tell him what to say next and Percival staring out the window and sipping his coffee.

“Have you seen a fox around?” Credence asked suddenly to the table. Percival raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“A fox has been following me around lately and last night it knocked over the trashcans behind the church and hurt itself.” Credence was looking at him now “It was in the same spot your injury is on your hand.” His eyes flicked to Percival’s injured hand

Smart boy Percival thought to himself as he covered the injured hand with his other hand. “That would be what some would call a coincidence. I obviously can’t turn into a fox at will.” The lie felt bad but Percival wanted to see if Credence bought it.

Credence wasn’t buying it…well the thing inside Credence wasn’t buying it. It was pacing furiously in the back of his mind, like an injured wolf trapped in a cage

He knows magic!  You felt it on the streets!

You don’t know that Credence pleaded with it. I could have just been cold.

Pah! It snarled Let me ask questions then! I’ll figure it out and then rip his throat out!

Credence whimpered but willed himself back into the present with Mr. Graves.

“I suppose your right but…what if it was possible for someone to do that?” He asked.

“Then that would take magic, which you hate.” Mr. Graves replied finally setting his coffee down. Credence eyed the coffee mug as a waitress came by to refill it and the man across from him added another spoonful of sugar.

“I don’t hate magic...”

“Your mother would have a heart attack if she knew that.” Graves commented.

“I just think that it’s a sin.” Credence finished. Graves rolled his eyes.

“Look kid, for the sake of this conversation let’s say magic was real.” Graves was leaning forward now and Credence couldn’t help but smell the scent of cloves and pine but he kept his gaze locked onto the table.

“Do you think it would all be bad?” Graves questioned.

“Well in the bible the devil uses...”

“Forget the bible for thirty seconds.” He interrupted. “What do YOU think?” Credence looked up at Graves, he took in well-cut suit and the blue scarf and when Credence finally looked at the man’s face he couldn’t help but shiver.

“I think…magic would be god’s creation and we would misuse it for our own gain.” Credence admitted. “But I also think that it would be used for good.”

“But you said it’s a sin doesn’t that defeat your argument in itself?” Graves questioned.

“It is a sin but just because it is doesn’t mean people wouldn’t do it. A man still lies with a man knowing it’s a….” Credence clamped his mouth shut, blood rushing to his face. Graves leaned back and sighed head tilted to the ceiling, “Well a good thing magic isn’t real, then isn’t it?”

“I think it’s real.” Credence whispered. Graves dropped his eyes from the ceiling and looked at Credence who was staring wide eyed at the coffee mug, where a spoon slowly stirred itself around in lazy circles.

Chapter Text

Credence was staring at the impeccably clean ceiling. He wasn’t used to staring at a ceiling that had no holes or mold growing across it. He had tried sleeping at first but when he laid himself on the soft sheets and even softer pillow he felt wrong. It felt wrong to be enjoying such luxuries while his sisters were sleeping on an old cot under a roof with holes punched through it.

But it couldn’t be helped. After Mr. Graves realized what had happened, he had slid out of the booth they were seated at, paid for the coffees at the till. He then came back to the booth and took Credence by the upper arm and hauled him out of the diner and back onto the streets.

Credence too stunned to do anything merely follow as Mr. Graves steered them away from the bustling down town to more quieter section of the town. There Mr. Graves climbed the steps of an apartment complex and with a word spoken quietly to the door he ushered Credence into the building and straight into an elevator.  After a short uncomfortable elevator ride, Credence found himself in a rather large apartment and Mr. Graves yanking a window open and fumbling for his pack of cigarettes. 

              “Second mistake I’ve made today” Graves mumbled as he lit a cigarette and inhaled. Credence didn’t offer a response but merely looked around the room.

The room they stood in must have been a living room, there was a couch and a coffee table and very nice bookshelf filled with books. The only problem was that it didn’t feel lived in at all. Everything was immaculate and untouched almost like Graves never set foot in this room. As credence looked around a thought came to mind.

“Where’s Roger?” Credence whispered looking around to see if there was any sign of Graves bloodhound.

Graves regarded him in silence, feral eyes searching. For what Credence didn’t know.

“The neighbors watch him while I’m at work.” Graves finally said. Credence could help but a little dismayed. Having the dog around may have diffused the tension if only just a little.

“Oh.”

“Oh? That’s all you have to say?” Graves snapped flicking the half-spent cigarette out the window.

“I..uh I..” Credence stammered unsure what else he should say.

“You just saw someone use magic and all you can think about is the dog?”

The creature in Credence was rising to the service again sensing the tension in the room, ready to fight. But instead of giving way to the creature, Credence forced it back. He shoved the creature into the back of his mind and exhaled.

“No, I have questions, but I think…you aren’t gonna answer them.” Credence said calmly. Graves raised an eyebrow at that, and surprisingly let out a low chuckle.

“You’re right my boy, I’m probably not going to answer most of your questions.” He turned away from the window and headed towards what Credence thought was the kitchen.

Credence was right, it was in fact was a rather spotless kitchen. Again, the kitchen felt unused and sterile, but Graves seemed to know where everything. He pulled a glass from the cupboard and turned the tap on and filled the glass with water. He handed it to Credence who accepted it with a mumble of thanks.  

Graves leaned against the kitchen counter while Credence set the glass down untouched. They stayed like for what Credence felt like for hours. Graves staring at him as if Credence was going to suddenly bolt for the door.  And as much as he would have liked too, Credence stayed where he was albeit not making eye contact with Graves, instead focusing on the marble counter in front of him.

Graves sighed causing Credence flinch at the sudden noise.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Graves said aloud. He drew a small stick from his vest. He then placed the stick down onto the counter top near Credence.  Credence felt a strange vibration from the stick almost as if it was alive and the thing inside Credence stirred again. Graves unwound his bandaged hand revealing a large gash across from his pinky to thumb, he picked up the stick again and with a single word waved the stick over his palm. Credence couldn’t help but let out a small squeak of surprise as the wound on Mr. Graves hand slowly began to knit back together. After a few moments it looked as if the wound had never been there in the first place.

Credence passed almost immediately after.

Percival was on his apartment roof, he was pacing in his fox form growling to himself softly. It was easier to think with a fox mind than with a human mind when it came to these kinds of things.

He needed to figure out what to do with Credence. Several ideas came across as he paced. He could send him off to the circus, no one would believe him, and he could even make some money as a tent raiser a far better life than the one back at the old church. Percival snorted at the image his mind produced of Credence doing hard labor. The work alone would probably kill him.

You could always teach him a voice whispered. Percival whipped around and spotted a white cat walking towards him. Percival flattened his ears,

I can’t teach a no-maj. He wouldn’t even begin to understand our world.  The white cat was closer now, Percival knew from experience that this cat would have no scent that he could perceive.

Do you really believe he’s a no-maj? You’ve felt the thing inside him. The cat purred rubbing itself against Percival and flicking its tail under his snout.

Even if he had some type of power it would take years of training and time that I do not have. Percival growled stepping back from the cat trying to distance himself.  Brown eyes much like his own regarded him for a moment.

I think you’ll find that you will have plenty of time to teach the boy.

Is that a prediction or a guess?  Percival asked.

It is whatever it should be. The boy is important for what is to come, and you know that as well as I do.  The cat responded. Percival knew it was right, he had felt the sense of rightness in being with Credence and the visions he had been having stopped as soon as he had met the boy.

I’ll teach him what I can but no promises.  Percival said shaking some snow off his fur and trotting to the fire escape he had climbed up. He looked back at the cat before he jumped down, but the cat was already fading away with the falling snow.

Good bye sister. Percival whispered dipping his head towards the cat as he did. Percival jumped down onto the fire escape and made his way to his own bedroom window intent on getting a little sleep before the morning.