“C–Credence…” Comes the soft hoarse whisper from the cavity in the wall. “Th–That you?”
The floorboards creak and she curls up tighter, whimpering her fear into the physical world, the blonde haired child hides her face in her arms and knees. Shrieking softly when a shaking hand curls lightly over her shoulder. “Modesty.”
Head whipping around, she finds herself staring into her big brother’s stormy eyes, something swirling in the orbs she can’t name. The eight year old couldn’t care any less then she already does, crawling out of her hiding spot with stumbling coordination and a heart wrenching sob, throwing herself at her brother. “Oh, Cre! It was so scary!” Modesty pulls back only just and gasps. “You’re hurt!”
“I know.” Credence curls a shaking hand around the back of her head to pull her into another embrace. Closing his eyes to the feeling of stray soaked hairs tickling his face when he bows his head into the top of hers. “I had to find you. You–You are my family.” She slowly curls her arms around his shivering frame, whether it be from the cold or injury she doesn’t know, but the little one is definitely shivering from the cold. “I know…A man with…Do you trust me?”
Nodding without any hint of hesitation, Modesty slowly climbs to her feet as her brother does, biting her lip in silent protest when he holds his hands out. Not wanting to cause more injury from him holding her, but the comfort the contact would offer, what little warmth would be there, and not wanting to cause tension she steps forward. Biting her lip harsher when she hears him groan as he lifts her into his arms. “Modesty.” She turns blue eyes to meet his. “Blue coat. He’s safe.”
Without a word, she bows into his shoulder, tightening her arms around his neck. He inhales deeply.
And nothing remains but the ghosts of a whispered whimper of some origin.
….
Waking with a start, a blonde child lifts her head from her pillows with haste, eyes wide and alert. Immediate thoughts are to search for the other subject in the night terror that has her set on a fine edge.
The side of the bed is empty. He’s not there. No. No, he came home.
Frantically, she kicks her blankets away, his side of the bed untouched. Cold. Too cold. She doesn’t like it.
Little feet hit the floor with a soft thump, forgoing the slippers to keep them warm, she scurries across the empty room she usually shares with–
Modesty tears the door to their bedroom open with teary panicked eyes, wide and alert in the haze of ‘flight or fight’, the little blonde girl runs down the hall for the door at the other end. “Newt!” Throwing her little hands out, she throws the door open with haste, darting into the abode without so much as an inquiry for permission and shoves at the slumbering man until he hums into awareness. “Newt! He’s gone! Gone!”
“Little one?” Newt Scamander brushes sleep from his eyes with the fingers of one hand as he helps the little thing climb into bed with him with the others, Modesty is a warm little girl but her tiny feet are freezing to the touch. “What’s got you so worked up, love?”
“Newt, he’s not here!”
It takes a moment, sleep slows the brain a certain degree, before it dawns on the red haired man. “Modesty, Credence is merely staying with Leta and Theseus. You know that, darling.” Gingerly he readjusts their position, deciding it was far too cool to allow the little girl to return to the room she shared with her only living sibling, a little blonde head nestles in the crook of his shoulder and the magizoologist sighs when she settles nicely. Little fingers clutching at the front of his nightshirt still, but the pressure has lessened, and he breathes a near silent sigh of relief when the small girl settles completely. “Was only a bad dream, little one, nothing more.”
“Just a bad dream.”
“Quite right, only a dream.” Newt rests his chin on the top of her head as he feels comforted enough that he may once more close his eyes. “You and your brother are perhaps among the safest children in the wizarding world. No one would dare come after one of my cubs.”
…
“Not you.” Tina Goldstien can say that the glare from such young eyes is quite terrifying. “You made it worse.” Modesty Barebone may only be eight years young but a force to be reckoned with when it was desired. “Don’t touch.” Her hand smacked away and the ensuing noise of alarm has the rest of the occupants converging. “Credence,” wide eyes stare at the young man as the little one turns to gaze up at him, hand slipping into his, fingers clutching tight to draw him in once more. “Don’t see no blue coat man.”
“Blue coat–” Queenie’s eyes widened in understanding. “Mr. Scamander! Sweetie, you just missed him, he’s left for–”
“Then we’ll wait.” She eyes the rest of them nervously. “Out here.”
….
“Newt,” the little one’s legs stop their absent kicking as she addresses the man at her side softly. “Do you ever wish you’d only found Credence?”
“And be without my darling little Niffler enabler?” At her side, the ginger haired man continues with his notes, elbowing her thigh lightly. “Never.” It goes without saying that it was the little girl’s presence that kept her much adored older brother from losing control. “I wouldn’t have brought you with me if I had been upset that you’d been found together.”
Newt Scamander had never considered himself much of a parent material, preferring time spent with his creatures known and yet to meet then that of spending his time with humans, that’s not to say he was doing things the right way. His lifestyle was by whim, thus his rearing was done by whim, some may say unorthodox, but they could never find reason to accuse of mistreatment.
It took time to garner the childrens trust, he won’t kid, perhaps what drew him to the youngest Barebone child hadn’t simply been her ability to control her oldest sibling and better yet control the obscurus living within him but her own mannerisms.
Felines express their emotions through their eyes. The manner in which this child had stared into his soul with all the intensity of a kitten as he aided her older brother.
When Modesty had blinked, it took time, but the first time their staring match was broken by her. A lightness had filled the Magizoologist in that moment, he blinked back, she blinked again. That was that. All there was to it.
Rising out of his bent position, the man stretches for a moment, and turns with a smile. “Just you and me, love, Thee sent word that your brother wishes to spend another night.” Dusting his hands over his trousers to brush away any residual dirt or the like he holds his hands out in offering. “What shall we do next, hmm?”
The little American smiles as she raises her arms, to the feeling of strong but gentle fingers curling around her middle, lifting her from the workbench in the shack within the Case. Curling an arm around the man’s neck as he settles her on his hip and turns, making for the exit, only pausing once. “My watch is still in my pocket, isn’t it?” She giggles and nods. “Good girl.”
“Can we go swimming, Newt?” Little eyes watch carefully as he pauses once more, head turning to meet her gaze, they watch each other for a long moment before he returns her smile. “Please?”
“Of course, love.” Newt nuzzles his little one for a brief spell of a moment. “Up for friendly competition?”
“What’s the prize?”
“First pick at the bakery down the lane?”
Modesty Scamander grins. “Deal!”
…
Credence folds himself around his youngest sister as much as he can, pulling her up into his lap as they sit on the stoop of the sisters home, the heat of the inside inviting against his back, he dare not move. He’s learned many times over, best not move, not with someone to protect. To move is to be noticed.
His pain was their fault, according to Modesty, everyone was at fault for what happened to him. His sister was too forgiving in his opinion but he keeps it to himself as always. So he kept quiet, hugging his sister to give as much of his warmth as he can.
It wasn’t good enough.
“Pardon me?” A hand over his shoulder causes the boy to nearly jump out of his skin, nearly drop his youngest sister, and for a moment the beast inside of him shifts. Blue coat. The man in the blue coat. “I was told you were awaiting my arrival?”
Newt isn’t good with people, it would be a far cry to say he’s good at emotions, but he knew his creatures and at the end of the day people were far more like creatures then they even thought themselves to be. Keeping his elation at the sight of the young man, living and breathing, is careful and maintained. Not when he’s shivering due to an unknown multitude of origins. Any creature injured and frightened backed into a corner was a dangerous one. Handle with care.
“Help her.” Slowly, the boy uncurls ever so slightly, allowing the man a glimpse of the precious treasure this particular cub was holding close and tight. A pale little face is revealed, long blonde hairs sticking to pasty skin, frost already crawling over her lashes. “I can’t anymore. I don’t know how.”
“It looks like hypothermia, a dangerous ordeal, to help her I need to take her.” Perhaps he’s crossing a line, but from the looks of things there’s no choice, if the boy wanted to protect his sister he’d have to let her go. “You come with us, of course, but we must act fast. I know we met very briefly but–”
“I trust you.” Credence appears to be just as surprised by the declaration as Mr. Scamander was himself if acknowledged by the way both of their eyes widened. He hated to let his sister go, but out of them all, it was the man with the blue coat he trusted most. “Help her.”
Uncurling ever so slightly, the obscurial watches the man lean forward carefully, mindful to keep his movements and intentions open to be seen. Watching closely as he lifts her into his arms, away from his, her pale cheek pressing against the blue material of his coat sleeve. “Come, I promised to keep you close too, didn’t I?”
….
“I will only ask once more.” Giggling is the child resting so very carefully in the magizoologist’s lap, long legs stretched out to rest crossed at the ankle on a chair across from them in their American friend’s sitting room. Visiting the Goldstien Sisters in the States was a holiday they didn’t get to experience often. But it was one that came around every once in a while. “What, my little Niffler Enabler, has become of my watch?”
Modesty has not necessarily an extensive wardrobe these days, but more than she had when Ma was their ‘parent’, but still she preferred the trousers and shirt she’d been given when her and Credence had found their way to Newt Scamander’s side all those months ago.
Sure she liked her dresses.
But her favorite outfit was the one gifted to her at the first meeting.
They allow her more freedom than a dress would and makes their travels easier too. Because where Newt went so too did Modesty and Credence. Really wherever Modesty went so too did Credence and Modesty really followed Newt around so it ended up the right way in the end.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Squealing a laugh when fingers twitch against her lower belly, muscles in the ginger haired man’s forearms twitch with the action, the eight year old pushes at the older wizard’s hands desperately as she twists and turns under his fingers. “Wahahahait! Nehehehewt!”
“I said I was only going to ask once more.” He’s not inhibited by those little fingers in any capacity. “Face the consequences my dear little Niffler Enabler.”
“Sorry,” her older brother leans over the man’s shoulder with the pocket watch in question. Credence will never admit that it was indeed his sister who stole said pocket watch and gave it to Dory (her baby Niffler) who turned it over to him when asked, if only to save his baby sister from their unofficially adopted parent’s vindictive side. “I borrowed it.”
“Likely story.” Newt playfully snags his stolen item back from the boy, rubbing a hand over the little one’s belly, eyes shining despite his attempt at a stern front. “I thank you for returning it, my other Enabler.”
….
“Oh dear, let me get a bath ready!” Queenie had kept herself close while her sister had kept her distance, she hadn’t seen what the Obscurus was truly capable of but Tina had, and not wanting to incite the anger of one by disobeying the order of the one thing keeping it at bay, the sisters did their best. “I can–”
“Thank you, Queenie, much appreciated.” The tightness in the magizoologist’s tone is expected, the girl cradled in his arms, her older brother just over the man’s left shoulder, fingers curled tight into his coat sleeve as piercing gray eyes dared her to draw closer. “We’ve got to get her warmed.”
It went without saying that she was not welcome to remain after she made up the bath for the little one. Credence was only allowing Mr. Scamander to be near his sister enough to carry her by a thin thread of trust. Best not to snap that thread.
She’d told him of course, as soon as he was close enough, this was new territory for all of them. An Obscurial living freely without having been taken over by the inner beast was a rarity. “Right, right, I’ll be right outside if you need me!”
“What if she doesn’t wake up?”
“She will.” He keeps his words very carefully picked over. “If she’s like her brother she’ll pull through in no time.”
Credence holds his breath. “She’s only my adopted sister though.”
“Family is more than blood, Credence.” Newt spares the boy a glance. “She is family in your heart and that is more than enough.” Next comes the hard part. “I need to undress her. Keeping her in her nightgown will do more harm than good.”
He waits for any sort of reaction, it is one thing to trust someone to assist someone you love and something else entirely to have them undressing that person you love so very much.
“I’m not leaving.”
Newt smiles at the boy. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
….
“Newt!” Bunty never took her employer as fatherly material and she means not to discredit his character, perhaps it was the idea of children still so new to the world of magic being around creatures too dangerous that had her head spinning with concerns. “No fair!” She has little time to react as the two blur shaped children come forward, at speeds one could marvel at, watching her boss laugh softly as he hunches over in preparation dripping water from the Kelpie’s vast lake where he stands.
The boy is the one who truly sends them both over the edge, but the girl plowing into his knees most certainly aids in the endeavor, and the three of them all go careening back into the water. Their splash is magnificent.
Sometimes she likes to sit back and observe, Mr. Scamander never scolds for such actions like any other parent might, laughing as they resurface. Throwing the youngest over her brother’s head.
That’s not to say that there hasn’t been times where she’s caught him scolding them, as a pair or individually, doing so now after all the care he put into garnering their trust and allowance to accept his care. It was an interesting sight to behold, poor little Modesty had shed many tears the first time, she’d come in to complete her duties to Mr. Scamander going about his business with the young child asleep on his shoulder.
A prime example of the trust between them was the fact that the Avenue was still in one piece. Credence had undoubtedly seen the tears that spilt from his beloved sister’s eyes, in any other circumstance had it been the result of any other individual, there would be nothing but ruble left in the wake of his rage. Instead he allowed their caretaker to take his most upset baby sister up into his arms to offer comfort, watching even still of course, and turned to go about his own chores when the little one had fallen asleep.
Would she have parented the children in the same manner, perhaps not, but in the same thought process perhaps that was the type of parenting the children needed. Mr. Scamander was not required to inform her of any specifics, those who needed them were himself and his brother, Theseus was needed to garner them visas pertaining to endangered magical children.
She didn’t need to know the dirty details why they’d flinch away from anyone and everyone but Newt Scamander for the first month he brought them home.
So perhaps his method of parenting was what was needed for those poor children, knowing nothing but pain for as long as they can remember, it was soft scoldings that were all that was needed to truly reprimand. Loss of sweets. Early to bed. No playing with certain creatures they were known to have befriended.
Little Modesty had formed an unusual bond with the Kelpie. How the little girl had befriended the water spirited creature when she wasn’t even permitted close enough to touch the lake was a mystery to the lot of them. But there she had been, sitting cross-legged at the appropriate distance Newt had shown her, holding “conversation” with a creature who was to be handled with the utmost care. Completely slack jawed she’d been, Bunty, when she’d found the girl feeding the Kelpie with ease.
Kinship.
Was all her boss had stated one evening upon happening to come across the duo one night. It was then that he also announced he intended to help his youngest charge learn how to swim. She couldn’t very well be a true friend without being able to spend proper time together, now could they, like she said–Newt Scamander was an odd choice for a parent even more for abused children but he was perhaps the best one for these two in particular.
One very important aspect to note. He never raised a hand to those children. Bunty’s seen the disappointment when they’re found doing something naughty. That is more than enough.
….
“Modesty!”
The little one stirs a few days later. Tucked safely in the bed in the man’s room, Mr. Scamander had properly introduced himself while watching over his sister with him, he’s been told to call him Newt. If he was okay with that.
“Is she waking up?” A gentle hand curls over his shoulder as the man leans over to feel her temple and cheeks. “Little one?”
Credence holds his breath up until the point her eyes flutter open for the first time in days. He did not trust easily, but he trusted Modesty, his sister was everything, he trusted Newt which is not something given freely. He did so because he was so kind and gentle with Modesty and if anyone deserved such care it was her.
“There we are, that’s it.” Newt leans over his head to help her move, clearly the strong willed youth wanted to be able to hold her brother’s hand and would stop at nothing to curl her fingers around his palm. “Let’s be gentle now. You’re still in a bit of a tough spot yet.” He watches the man help her adjust her position.
Once his mission is accomplished, the magizoologist sits back, watching the pair interact in the background. He was only there if something outside of what they could do for each other was needed, but these were children who learned to care for themselves and each other, Newt knew his place in this sudden relationship. It would take time to integrate. He was an intruder into a pack of traumatized cubs and it would take time to learn his place. As it was, at the moment, he was at lowest in the pack.
“This is him, Modesty.” Newt blinks into the present at the unexpected introduction. “The man in the blue coat.”
Leaning forward, he smiles, her eyes are wide and unblinking. Untrusting. Like a kitten. “Newt Scamander, pleasure to meet you, little one.”
…..
“Don’t you think it’s time to send them to bed?” It was a simple inquiry, a simple unrequested insight into the manner he cared for the children he’d taken into his care, Newt did not take to people telling him how to care for his creatures. He did not take others telling him how to care for his children. “They’re both practically asleep.”
Indeed, as if hearing the unspoken words, Credence tightens his grip around his calf from where he’d dozed off huddled between his legs on the floor. Head resting lightly against the side of his left knee. And little Modesty shifts closer, enough so that he’s forced to adjust his hold on her, finishes reading what parchment was holding his attention captive the Magizoologist raises an eyebrow at the others curious stares. “What?”
“Well, little brother,” Theseus turns his head to hide an amused smile. “You’re quite….protective.”
“The state you’d left that poor assistant in after she merely scolded your beloved ‘little one’ for crawling into your lap for a nap while you were working on your book–” Leta Lestrange smacks her husband's arm at his snort of laughter. “The poor woman was terrified.”
“Modesty has always napped in my lap. I see no issue.”
“No, sweetie, it’s not that.” The blonde woman leans forward if only to curl the man’s coat around his youngest charge a bit more. “You’re like a mama bear.” Queenie shoots her sister a certain glance. “Teenie, Newt’s been doing a grand job with them, leave him alone. Obviously this is far from a position that’s new to them.”
“Very true,” his older brother is a dirty traitor. “The number of times–”
“Don’t you dare.”
….
“Newt, I don’t know.” The eight year old sits on the edge, little lets dangling in the cool water, her brother just a mere call away ready and will to rain hell down on anyone if she so asked him to. “I’m scared.”
“That’s alright, darling.” Bobbing in the water of the Kelpie’s lake, knowing full well that if for some unforeseen reason that Newt lost his grip that the water horse themself would be there to see to her safety. “Being frightened of something new is to be expected.” Still the desire is in her eyes. “We can start slow. I know how much you truly wish to play with the Kelpie. Do you trust me, little one?”
For a moment, a clear moment, she thinks it over before nodding. Modesty trusts Newt because Credence trusts Newt. He’s so nice, treats them well, never yells or anything when he gets angry at them. The wizard never gets angry when she has a bad dream and creeps into his room to ask if she can sleep with him through the night, he merely raises his blankets as an invitation and lets her cuddle in close, never gets mad at Credence when he loses control. He’s just there to talk him down and see that he’s alright when he comes back to himself again.
Modesty reaches out tentatively for the gentle hand that reaches out for her, gasping when she slides off the edge, panic barely setting in when an arm curls under her and pulls her close. Keeping her head above the water, the red haired man holds her perhaps a tad more firm then is necessary, but the physical pressure is enough to keep the internal panic of floating freely in the water from garnering any true hold on her small form.
“You’re alright, love.” He calls for her attention, wide frightened eyes turn to meet his, and the magizoologist smiles soothingly. “I’ve got you.”
Fingers squeeze her side lightly and the little girl returns his smile. “Promise?”
“Cross my heart.” Slowly the tension in her small body dissipates. “We’ll simply float here for a while. Nothing more until you say you’re ready.”
That’s the best part, she ponders as she curls her arms around his neck lightly, still too frightened to break eye contact. Newt never pushes. He knows they went through something bad. Something horrible. Things they obviously need to talk about to heal. But he doesn’t push. Letting them come to him, and when they do, he sets aside what he’s doing to listen. It doesn’t matter what that might be, she’d hang off his back simply chattering about something to do with Ma as he’s going through feeding their creatures breakfast-lunch-dinner more times then she can even remember to count. Credence whispers when they're in the shack, watching him write his notes, Newt listens even then. Even when he appears busy he’s ready and willing to listen.
He never forces them to do anything unless they're ready to.
….
“Newt.” By the tone of voice it’s very obvious that this inquiry is going to be very specific and very heavy. “Why did Ma do the bad things?” Even Credence turns his attention to the man being questioned. Clearly wanting an answer without demanding one.
How the Magizoologist did answer had to be done very delicately and very precise.
“I can’t say for sure why people do the things that they do, little one.” And very carefully he thinks out his words. “I find myself asking the same question more than I’d like to. I think for some it’s done out of what they assume to be the greater good and not out of ill intention.”
Modesty presses. “But what about those like Ma.”
“Modesty, I hate to think so, but there are some who I think simply harm people because they have the power to do so.” Newt decides the best course of action is to be direct and open but not too much so. “Your mother harmed you all because she could.” It doesn’t seem to get through. “Remember the Arctic Wolf we found in Canada last month?”
“Mhmm, the little one.” Credence nods in response to her words. “You said it was hurt because it was….”
“The weak link.” Not how he’d phrased it but the meaning doesn’t differ. “He was injured because it was easy for the opposing pack to do so, born sickly, they took advantage of his weakness and used that to their gain.”
The dark haired boy knocks shoulders with his sister. “And that’s what Ma did?”
“Exactly.” Nodding, the man looks between the pair carefully. “She took advantage of the power she had over you. To her, you were like that wolf, easy to harm. Now, that doesn’t mean what she did was right. Just as it doesn’t mean what happened to that poor hound was right.” Newt tilts his head for a moment. “Sometimes, there are bad people, who do bad things, because they simply can.”
“But it’s not right, the way Ma was, because you’re kinda like our dad now and you don’t act like that.” Their youngest human present leans forward on her palms as she kicks her legs slightly over the edge of the work bench. “You’re nice and kind and funny. You never do the stuff Ma did. Not even when we make you really mad and I know we have.”
“I’m honored to know you consider me in such regard.” Lifting the girl with ease, he settles her on his hip, one scarred hand curled around her outer thigh firmly and directs the boy around with an arm around his shoulders. “There are far more people in this world with kindness in their heart than such as the bitterness that was in that woman’s own. No parent, no matter how they came to be, has any excuse for the things your mother did to you both.”
The little girl rests their heads together. “We like living with you, Newt.”
“And I adore having you two here with me as well.” Now is the time for tea and biscuits. “I have something very important to ask both of you over tea and biscuits. Don’t feel as if you have to say–”
“Yea,” sometimes it’s easy to forget that despite her age and lack of display that little Modesty is so similar to Queenie Goldstien. “We’d like that. It’d mean no one can take us away, right?”
Smiling, Newt bows his head slightly as they step up into the kitchen through the basement door. “Yes, me adopting you as my own would mean that no one could take you away.”
A rough cool hand brushes against his calling his attention to the boy at his side. “We want to stay.”
“Alright then, and you’re both quite sure?” The man gains two nods. “Well, let me send an owl to your Uncle then, he can get the paperwork streamlined.”
“Uncle Thee knows people.”
“Uncle Thee most certainly does.”