~ Control ~ {Credence Barebone}

~ Colors ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Chapter Two~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Did Mr. Graves tell you what he wanted to do with the obscurus, once he found it?"

I shook my head.

I decided that, while on the topic of backstabbing, lying traitors, I would try and apologize for what had happened earlier. "I wasn't trying to kill you—back at the subway. You were just—"

"In your way?"

I nodded slowly, unsure of my answer.

"Why were you trying to attack Mr. Graves, if he said he was going to teach you magic?"

It took me a moment to decide what to say. I wasn't used to being asked all these questions. "He lied to me. After he thought he found what he wanted, he—he told me that I was unteachable." I stopped talking once I saw the black fog (obscurus, I guess it was called) wisp around my hands. Luckily, Mr. Scamander wasn't looking at me, and I was able to get it under control before he noticed. "I'm sorry—can we stop talking about this?"

"Of course, Credence." He unraveled the worn black and yellow scarf from his neck. Without saying a word, he wrapped it around me, his fingers lightly brushing the back of my neck.

To stunned to properly form words anymore, I muttered a stutter-y version of "thank you."

"Well, it is cold up there." He pointed up, but all I could see was the top of the case.

It's a lot nicer down here. I wanted to say, but, as I said, my brain refused to work properly, so I just nodded instead.

I couldn't stop running my hands over the material of the scarf. Despite looking years old, it was still soft and warm, and it smelt faintly of smoke and maybe lemon salt, but I don't think that Mr. Scamander was the type to smoke. Maybe it was from a fire of some sorts, or just from old age; either way, it didn't actually smell unpleasant. I wonder if he would want it back, or if this was him giving it to me. I decided not to ask for the time being.

"Why were you out at this time of night?" I asked after I got a handle on myself. It was a dumb question, and he could've easily asked me that, too.

"My niffler. He got loose again."

"Your...what?" I'm pretty sure I heard him wrong.

"Niffler. They're sort of like a platypus." He walked over to an opened shelf and gently took what I'm guessing was the creature out. "They're attracted to shiny things. You can hold him, if you'd like." He held it out to me, and I took it, trying to be as gentle with it as he was. At first, the creature just sat in my hands stared at me with its huge eyes, then it climbed up my body and made itself comfortable in my—Mr. Scamander's—scarf.

"I think he likes you. Either that or he's trying to rob you." He laughed, as if getting mugged by a creature less than one-tenth of your size was the funniest thing he's heard all week. I guess the thought was pretty laughable.

"I don't have anything for him to take, really." I held out my hands, as if to prove that I really wasn't worth stealing from, then remembered my many scars and quickly shoved them into my pockets.

I did sort of wish I still had Mr. Graves necklace. I would've given it to the creature. I suppose it's too late for that now.

"Then I think he likes you." I grinned lightly at the thought.

"How exactly could he get out of a place like this?"