Chapter 16
Chapter 16
It was a very satisfied Graves that apparated from the Canadian Magical Parliament to the alley behind the New Salem Society. The crack of his apparition echoed loudly off the surrounding buildings. He didn’t care. Not anymore.
He was so close. He just needed to figure out which of the waifs and strays that hung around this dump seeking meagre scraps to fill their bellies was his. His weapon. His key to hurting Albus Dumbledore once and for all, and the linchpin in his plan for world domination.
He could not have imagined a better turn of events. By now, Scamander and Goldstein were dead, the muggle obliviated, Meyers occupied with the French Ambassador the rest of the evening, and Graves’s loyal aurors wouldn’t even think to question what happened...not until it was far too late.
He only needed his obscurial.
He strode up to the door, and opened it with a wave of his hand. Mary Lou Barebone was overseeing Modesty, Credence and Chastity as they served soup to the street children.
“What do you want?” she asked Graves sharply.
“I need to speak with your son, Miss Barebone.”
Credence froze, ladle halfway between the pot and the bowl of the child before him.
“What do you want with him? He and Chastity already identified my poor cousin for you people,” she said angrily.
“Calm yourself woman! We have further questions for him. Mr. Barebone?”
Credence carefully put the ladle back into the pot, then looked desperately at Mr. Graves. He glanced over at Ma who was watching him particularly viciously. Credence hesitated, realizing that no good would come of this moment, but Mr. Graves grabbed Credence roughly by the arm and dragged him outside to the alley. Ma followed to the door.
Credence looked over his shoulder at Ma’s murderous look.
They stepped outside into the balmy night air. Graves led him further up the alley, away from Miss Barebone’s prying eyes, then he cornered him, trapping him against the wall of the alley.
“Well, Credence, my dear boy. What have you for me? Have you found the poor child yet?”
“N-n-no, Sir,” he whispered. “I haven’t been able to find them yet.”
He saw a dark expression pass behind Graves’s intense eyes and felt himself shudder.
“Credence, I am disappointed...I thought you believed in me, I thought you wanted to come away with me…”
“I do, Sir. I really, really do.”
“And yet, I ask you for something so simple, so small, and you fail to do it...it makes me think that you don’t care, that you’d rather stay here with your mother.”
“She’s not my mother,” said Credence, his eyes tightly closed as he felt the panic, fear, and rage all warring inside him, threatening to bubble out. He tried to breathe, tried to think.
“You say she’s not, and yet, you seem to want to stay here with her…I wanted to make you great, Credence, to make you my special boy, my son, my protégé. Yet, it’s very easy for me to leave you here if it is what you so desperately wish. I only wanted what is best for you, but I want you to be happy Credence...if you wish to stay here...” the man who called himself Graves pulled away from Credence as if to walk away. Credence began to cry.
“I don’t! Please, Sir. I want to come with you. Please, take me away from this place.”
Graves grinned predatorially. He strode right up to Credence, who flinched away. Graves laughed. "There is no need to fear me, my boy." He extended a hand and cradled Credence’s face. Credence leaned into the physical contact, having never been shown any affection in his life. He was delirious with it.
“My boy, time is running out. The child is dying.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Sir. Please. Give me another chance.”
The man who called himself Graves pulled Credence into an embrace, and Credence sobbed.
“My boy, the sooner we find the child, the sooner we can leave this pain behind. I have a gift for you, my boy.” He pulled away from the boy who stared at him wide-eyed. No one had ever given him a gift before.
The man reached into a pocket and pulled out a strange symbol on a silver chain. The symbol was cool to the touch, and unlike anything the boy had ever seen before - a triangle with a circle inside of it, bisected by a vertical line.
“This is a very special talisman, my boy. I would trust very few with it...but you, you are special.”
He slipped the chain over Credence’s head, then tucked the chain under his collar, and rested his hand over Credence’s heart, directly over where the symbol hung against his chest.
“Keep it hidden away from sight. When you find the child, touch this symbol with your hand, and I will know. I will come to you and rescue you both from this place. Do not forget what I said, my special boy. We are looking for a child of immense power, younger than twelve years of age. Suffering immensely. Secretive. Afraid. Prone to attacks of magic...The faster you find the child, the faster your suffering will be over.”
“I will, Sir.”
Graves smiled again, then kissed Credence on the top of the head. Then he walked away up the alley and vanished from sight.
With renewed determination, Credence returned to the New Salem Society, for what he hoped would be the last time.
* * * * * * *
Despite the seriousness of the situation, the mood in Newt’s case was celebratory. It’s inevitable, when one faces near certain death, to be overwhelmed with joy to be alive.
After Queenie’s confrontation with Graves, she apparated back to the small flat that she and Tina shared. When she rejoined them in the case, she was met with uproarious applause and cheers. George took her hand grinning madly, and Queenie took the opportunity to kiss him fiercely.
Murdoch raised an eyebrow. Julia whistled, and they broke apart sheepishly.
Newt quickly checked on his creatures to make sure none had been harmed by Graves and his aurors.
Queenie and Tina were rather fascinated by Newt’s creatures, and George and Julia were happy to revisit them with the sisters. Murdoch, having finally gotten over his shock, was actually able to appreciate the wonders of the case this time around.
Llewellyn found his gaze returning to Newt constantly - a subconscious need to reassure himself that Newt was alive.
With the others distractedly playing with the diriclaws, Llewellyn took the opportunity to slip next to Newt. Standing side by side, he allowed his hand to fall to his side, and he gently brushed his knuckles against Newt’s.
Newt looked into his warm brown eyes and smiled. He longed to rest his head on Llewellyn's shoulder, to embrace him. To reassure them both that they were alive and well. Instead he contented himself with reciprocating the gesture.
“Newt,” said Llewellyn gently, in a voice barely audible. Newt look at Llewellyn. Llewellynswallowed the lump that was forming in his throat.
“I’m so very happy that you’re alive.”
Newt beamed, as he felt his heart melt. For someone who claimed to not really understand human behaviour, he appeared to have gotten the message loud and clear.
“Llewellyn, I’m so very happy that you’re still you,” his voice cracked. He cleared his throat, and opened his mouth to say more, but closed it again. He looked into Llewellyn's eyes sheepishly.
Llewellyn glanced around, then decided to risk giving Newt’s hand a quick squeeze. Newt squeezed his hand back, Newt grinned shyly then looked away.
Llewellyn smiled to himself.
Queenie shot them a knowing grin. Newt blushed and shot her a dirty look. Queenie’s expression was one of pure innocence.
Newt sighed, shaking his head, “We best be going...Tina, your informant, Mr. Fletcher mentioned something called Eton ?”
“Eaton’s Department Store, in Muggle Toronto. Right near City Hall, on Queen and Yonge,” said Queenie, smiling brightly... “No better place to shop, they truly have everything. Including, it would seem, your invisible creature.”
Murdoch spoke up, “But at this time of night, surely, it must be closed?”
“I think that’s the point, Sir.” said George.
“Are we to burgle the department store?” asked Julia with a laugh.
“I’d consider it more of a rescue mission,” said Newt with a grin, "Away from prying eyes."
* * * * * * *
In almost no time at all, they rounded the corner around City Hall, and they found themselves staring up at the soaring brick complex that was Eaton’s store, factory and mail-order distribution center.
"Sir, do you remember when we investigated the murder or the floor manager here a few years ago? That was when we first met Eva Pearce" said George to Murdoch.
"Yes, George. How could we forget?" responded Murdoch.
“When you said ‘department store’ I was imagining something large...but not this large,” said Newt, slightly put off. “It’s difficult enough finding a creature that can go invisible - this place is massive.”
“It’ll be like trying to find a needle in a haystack,” agreed George sadly.
“I once found a needle in a haystack,” said Llewellyn sympathetically, “It was not easy.”
“Hopefully we’ll be able to put your finding skills to use,” replied George, he made to walk towards the store, but Murdoch pulled him back.
“We can’t just walk up to the door and break in…” said Murdoch, “People will notice!”
Newt nodded, pensively. He looked to Queenie and Tina, “Disillusionment charms?”
“You read my mind,” said Tina. In unison, they pulled out their wands and cast the charm. The muggles gasped, as one would at the curious sensation the Disillusionment charm causes...the feeling of having an egg smashed against one’s head and the slow trickle of cold yolk dribbling down one’s neck and back tends to leave one rather startled. Equally surprising to the Muggles was the fact that they were now all - not invisible per se, but perfectly camouflaged with their surroundings.
“Wow!” said George excitedly as he waved about his hands. He held them up against the brick façade of the building, and beamed as they changed color to match.
“This should allow us to slip in unnoticed. We’ll cancel the charm once we’re inside. It’ll be hard enough looking for one invisible creature without all of us also being invisible,” said Tina.
They made their way to the main entrance without incident. Tina waved her wand and with a quick alohomora she unlocked the doors and disabled the alarm system. They slipped in one at a time and paused in the elegant entry with its towering marble art deco columns. Usually, it was bustling with activity as shoppers passed from display case to display, like honey bees collecting nectar in a garden. Now it was silent as a grave.
“Where do we begin?” asked Murdoch, looking around, as Tina and Newt cancelled the charm.
“We'll have to try to be unpredictable. I’m really surprised that he ran off in the first place. He’s normally so dependable and nurturing, especially with the occamy Hatchlings I-”
Newt stopped mid-sentence. Eyes wide.
“Oh dear.”
“What? What now?” asked Tina, frustration going from zero to one hundred in an instant.
“What if he wasn’t so much running away from, but chasing after...Oh BUGGER. DOUGAL!!” Shouted Newt and he took off at a sprint, “Dougal! Where are you, love?”
“Newt? What’s happening?” asked George as they chased after him.
“Food! Is there food here?”
“Is now the time to be thinking of food?” asked Murdoch, exasperated.
But Queenie, three steps ahead as always, grabbed Newt by the sleeve and yanked him in the opposite direction towards the Gourmet Market and Cakes department.
“Demiguises are fundamentally peaceful...at worst, they’ll give you a nip if provoked. But they’re incredibly loving and caring creatures. I think Dougal might be babysitting.”
“What?! What do you mean?” asked Tina.
Halfway through the handbag section, he stopped dead in his tracks, and Queenie and Llewellyn collided into him. Newt held up his hand at the others, then pointed at a bright red handbag floating along the floor. “What in the world?” asked Murdoch.
“Dougal,” and he grinned, “Try very hard not to be predictable. Demiguises’ sight operates on probability - it can foresee the most likely immediate future...makes them incredibly difficult to catch.”
The handbag stopped mid-aisle, and Dougal the demiguise dissolved into view.
Dougal was positively adorable: a primate-looking creature with brilliant kind eyes, and cascading white fur. Dougal hugged the red handbag to his chest and scampered over to Newt happily. He tugged on Newt’s trousers in greeting. Newt bent forward and lovingly petted Dougal’s head.
“Dougal, you brilliant, kind, utterly wonderful soul.”
Dougal took Newt’s hand, and pulled him along urgently.
“It’s my fault. I must have miscounted. It’s so hard to count when they’re so wriggly,” said Newt softly as he allowed Dougal to lead him up a series of staircases to the offices and storage rooms on the upper floors. The others followed, rather confused.
“I don’t understand, we have your creature...what are we still doing here?” asked Tina.
Just then a roar was heard directly above them.
“What was that?!” asked Murdoch nervously.
“That’s why Dougal is here. Like I said...Babysitting.”
They reached the landing before the largest storeroom. It was a maze of crates and boxes, dimly lit by the light of street lamps filtering in through the tall windows.
Tina looked at Newt disbelieving, but Newt was in his element. Another whimpering roar was heard from the storeroom. George, Murdoch, Julia and Llewellyn exchanged nervous looks. Newt calmly and quietly slipped into the room, moving slowly so as to not startle its inhabitant.
“That’s alright, Love, Mummy’s here,” said Newt in the tone one would use to comfort a beloved colicky infant, as he gently placed his case on the floor, and flipped it open as he did with the leucrotta. His companions looked about the seemingly devoid-of-magical-beasts room in confusion, until they noticed where Newt was staring…
Up.
Newt tuned out the collective gasps and panicked cries behind him. He looked lovingly down at Dougal, who cautiously made his way forward and spilled the contents of the red handbag in the middle of the room. Out rolled apples, cheeses, breads, tiny cakes and biscuits wrapped in elegant wax paper. Dougal chittered gently like a doting parent at the gigantic winged serpent perched along the beams of the ceiling.
“One of the occamy hatchlings got loose. He’s only a baby, barely days old. Poor old Dougal took it upon himself to watch over him,” said Newt gently.
“Hatchling? That thing is HUGE!” hissed Tina, disbelievingly.
“Occamies are choranaptyxic...they can grow to fill available space. Like goldfish.”
“Goldfish, definitely the first thing to pop to mind when faced with...that…” said George weakly as they watched Dougal hold up a block of cheese to the creature. It craned its giant feathered head down to sniff the cheese warily before ever-so-gently grabbing it from Dougal’s outstretched hand. Throwing its head back, it swallowed it, rind and all with a tremendous gulp.
“What do we do?” asked Julia.
“We need an insect. The juicer the better!” said Newt as unbeknownst to any of them, Dougal’s eyes suddenly glowed blue, “...and a teapot. Just try, very hard-”
The occamy burped, and Queenie startled, accidentally bumping into a stacked crate, sending it tumbling to the floor with a resounding crash. Dougal groaned and vanished.
“-not to startle him.” finished Newt with a wince as the occamy roared and began to wriggle in a panic. The storage room was soon filled with waves of undulating blue scales and feathers as the occamy flopped about, spooked.
“TEAPOT! INSECT!” shouted Newt over the din.
It was utter chaos. The friends were battered around like leaves in a hurricane.
Llewellyn found himself very nearly crushed under the occamy’s tail as he struggled to cross the room to Newt.
Newt was furiously digging in his case, and called out triumphantly as he pulled out a rather chipped teapot decorated with dainty floral patterns.
“TEAPOT!” He roared holding it aloft.
He glanced around him in horror as he saw Dr. Ogden, Murdoch and George caught up in the creature’s coils, Llewellyn, winded and battered, struggling to get up from the floor, and Tina and Queenie furiously scrambling in the corners, desperately searching for an-
“INSECT!” shouted Queenie as she stood, holding an unfortunate cockroach triumphantly in her fist.
It was as if a switch had been flipped. Everything froze as they were suddenly engulfed in deafening silence. Dougal rematerialised beside Llewellyn, scampered up his leg, and clutched him in a vice-like grip around his midsection as he hid his face against Llewellyn's chest.
“Queenie,” said Newt, evenly yet urgently, “Please, don’t panic...very important. No quick movements.” Tina gasped in horror as the occamy drew closer to Queenie, its electric blue eyes fixed resolutely on her outstretched hand. It licked its beak-like mouth with a bright pink tongue. Its nostrils flared.
Queenie gulped audibly, but did not move.
“That’s it, Queenie, just like that, you’re doing marvelously. Next step, insect in teapot, right? When I say “now” fling it at me as hard as you can.”
Llewellyn could see where this was going. It truly was the leucrotta all over again. He winced weakly, his ribs sore. The demiguise cuddled closer.
“Ready?” asked Newt gently.
Queenie nodded, terrified-yet-determined.
“NOW!” shouted Newt.
Queenie flung the cockroach and recoiled back. It sailed through the air as if in slow motion. No one spoke, no one hardly breathed...all eyes stared transfixed as the insect arched through the space. Then, Newt sprung into action. He dove forward, teapot firmly grasped in his outstretched arm. He crashed to the floor, but his aim was true, and with a delicate, crunchy clunk, the roach landed squarely in the teapot.
Newt quickly covered his head with his other arm, as the occamy inhaled sharply. For an instant, it seemed to expand, to take up every last bit of space in that dusty storeroom. Then with a roaring whoosh it charged downwards at Newt.
“Newt!” cried Llewellyn, horrified. Newt would surely be crushed under the newborn’s clumsy bulk.
As it approached the terrifying moment of impact, however, the occamy began to shrink, first its head, then its body, like a deflating balloon, till it was smaller than a common garden snake. And with a not-so-delicate plunk, it landed directly in the teapot.
Newt instantly jumped to knees, slamming the teapot’s lid down firmly in place. The sharp clink of ceramic not nearly loud enough to drown out the crunching, chomping and slurping noises emanating from the teapot as the baby occamy devoured its supper.
"Eww," said Tina. George looked vaguely nauseous.
Newt got to his feet, and his friends gathered around cautiously. He cracked open the lid a hair to peek inside. The occamy hatching coiled happily inside the teapot, and now satiated, it drifted off to sleep. Its teeny serpentine nostrils flaring as it snored softly.
Newt chucked, “They’re choranaptyxic...they can also shrink to fill available space.”
Llewellyn looked at the mad genius disbelievingly before laughing weakly.
Newt smiled at Llewellyn and Dougal who was still firmly cradled against his chest.
"I thought you said 'nothing with more than an XXX rating,'" said Tina weakly.
Newt smiled sheepishly.
“Mr. Scamander,” said Murdoch weakly, “Please answer me honestly - is this the last of your creatures?”
“Yes, Detective, that’s all of them.”
He turned to Llewellyn and said “Let’s get these two back home.”
* * * * * * *
Dougal seemed to take quite a liking to Llewellyn. Newt reckoned it was because of Llewellyn's unpredictable and unorthodox methodologies. Back in Newt’s case, Dougal happily lead Llewellyn from enclosure to enclosure, pointing at different things of note and chattering happily. Llewellyn responded in kind.
“That is a lovely tree, my dear Dougal, most majestic,” he said as they passed the bowtruckle nest. Newt stopped at the tree again and had another chat with Pickett.
“My friend,” he said affectionately to the brave little bowtruckle, “You’ve gone above and beyond today. Tina and I owe you our lives. I’m afraid my next adventure might be a bit of a dangerous one. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
The bowtruckle blew a raspberry affectionately, and crawled up Newt’s arm, back to his breast pocket.
“Thank you, Pickett. I’m glad to have you with me,” Newt smiled sadly, then continued on to the occamy enclosure. Once there, ever-so-gently, so as not to disturb the sleeping baby occamy, slipped it out of the teapot and into the nest with its dozing siblings.
Dougal sighed in relief, then let go of Llewellyn's hand and scampered over to a hammock strung between two of the bamboo trees in the occamy enclosure.
“Thank you, Dougal,” said Newt, and he patted the demiguise affectionately.
He turned back to his human friends gathered, and said awkwardly, “Well, I best be getting on to the obscurial,” glancing down at the teapot in his hands, he continued, “Unless you’d like a spot of tea first?”
George laughed, “Cockroach and occamy infused oolong is it? I think we’ll pass.”
Newt grinned sadly, “The same applies to you all as well, you know. What I said to Pickett. I’m so incredibly grateful for your assistance, your companionship. But I cannot ask you to come along. It can get dangerous…it likely will get dangerous.”
“Mr. Scamander, as George said earlier to Miss Goldstein, we are no strangers to danger,” said Murdoch, “We’ve started this mad caper with you. I’d certainly like to see it through.”
“You’re one of us now, Bunny,” said Queenie brightly, “We protect our own.”
“Quite frankly, if taking on a rampaging leucrotta makes one friendly, certainly taking on an occamy makes us...practically family,” said George seriously.
“Yes, it’s in The Bible,” said Llewellyn with a grin.
“One of the Psalms if I remember correctly,” said George beaming.
Murdoch, Julia, Tina and Queenie looked rather lost, as George, Newt and Llewellyn laughed heartily. And if they sounded a bit hysterical no one mentioned a thing. And if Newt got a little weepy and needed to stare at the floor a bit, blinking away tears furiously, until he could collect himself, they pretended not to notice.
Then, the newly christened family departed Newt's case to search for the obscurial together.
* * * * * * *