Chapter Text
Credence knew that he was stupid. It was something that had been drummed into him with such certainty that he never thought of doubting it. That certainty was enhanced by the way he clawed at a pen, fingers twisting awkwardly as he fought to use his right hand. Using your left hand meant you were listening to the devil, and Ma had tried to teach him not to be so sinful. She had taught him by beating his left hand until the blood dripped from his fingers and any pressure made him cringe. Any time she caught him using his left hand, that lesson was repeated. Using his right hand was painful. But it wasn’t as painful as disappointing Ma.
He wanted to make her happy. So he listened to what she said, and tried to learn from it. He practiced his writing when he could to try and disguise the ugliness of his scrawl, copying out her lessons so that he would remember what she had taught him. He had hidden a misprinted leaflet and a pen under his mattress, and practiced writing until the paper was so covered no more was readable.
***
Newt sat on a bench, watching the other people on the boat crowding forwards to see the Statue of Liberty. The city stretched before them, but Newt knew he still had a long way to go. He could hear his creatures rattling slightly in his case, and crouched down to pat it gently.
“Settle down please. It won’t be long.” He murmured. He knew that they were getting impatient, and he was grateful that Theseus had insisted he fix the case before he left Britain. It would be a potential disaster if any of the creatures were able to get out. They would cause chaos.
He breezed through Muggle customs thanks to his passport and the muggle worthy setting on the case, and stepped out into a remarkable city – buildings stretching into the air higher than he had ever seen, and without the help of magic. The crowds rushed around, a swarm of people each with their own purpose and thoughts, and that was remarkable to him. There was a sense of business and focus in each person racing past, and Newt closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in. There was meat cooking nearby, and onions frying. Newt felt slight hunger, but he was too busy looking around to stop for food.
Opening his eyes, he noticed a crowd had formed in front of an impressive looking building. A woman was captivating them, and as Newt walked closer he saw the banner that they were displaying – hands holding a broken stick above flames. The stick looked familiar – it looked like a wand. That was enough to slow Newt, draw him closer.
“You, friend! What drew you to our meeting today?”
“I was just passing.” Newt mumbled, feeling the eyes of the surrounding crowd focus in on him. He tried to hide within his coat.
“Are you a seeker? A seeker of truth?”
Newt shrugged slightly.
“More of a chaser really.” He knew that the Quidditch pun would go over the head of the surrounding crowd, but he was also being honest. Truth, like the truth about his creatures, wouldn’t come unless you were willing to chase after it. Luckily, the woman continued to speak, and Newt looked past her, seeing the others on the steps – a boy who was cowed and shaking, and two girls. All of them handing out leaflets.
“Heed my words and heed my warning: Witches live among us!”
The boy stepped forwards, holding out his leaflet. Newt took one, staring at the image of burning witches on the cover. He knew there were accusations like this in a lot of cultures, but something about this made him hesitate. The boy looked so afraid.
***
Mary Lou watched as the man took an interest in her son. There was something odd about him – his coat looked unusual, and his accent was strange. She saw the expression when he looked at the leaflet – he wasn’t looking with derision or surprise, but instead fear. It was the expression of a man who knew that the flames waited for him. She smiled, walking down the steps towards him.
“Mister-“
“Scamander.”
“Mister Scamander, it would be lovely of you to join us for dinner tonight, if you want to learn more.”
“Thank you.”
“We’re at the New Salem Preservation Society church. It isn’t hard to find.”
She watched the man walk way, certain that there was something unnatural about him.
“That concludes today’s meeting!” She called to the assembled crowds, and hurried her children home.
“Children.” She gathered them around her. “I need the three of you to do something very special for me. It’s dangerous, I want you to know that. But there are some very bad people out there, and you can help me save a lot of people. Will you do that for me?”
Modesty nodded quickly.
“Is it a witch momma?”
“Yes. That man in the blue coat.” She told them, seeing looks of horror pass across the children’s faces. She explained what she wanted them to do – Credence was to wait outside, to act as bait. It was clear that the witch had been interested in her son, and that thought made her skin crawl. She set Modesty and Chastity to work painting the symbols that she had been taught. That was what his mother had told her. That she needed to learn how to do this in case Credence ever misbehaved and allowed his wicked nature out.
Her parenting had kept Credence from causing such difficulties, aside from the occasional unfortunate situation which she had been able to control with a firm hand. She had never had to use those symbols, or the herbs she had prescribed, or the leather strip to wrap around his wrist and cut off his access to magic. But she kept them all, just in case.
When Credence brought the young man in she was all smiles, showing him to the table.
“Mister Scamander-“ She greeted him. He smiled brightly.
“Call me Newt.”
“Like a snake?” Modesty asked, moving closer. Newt shook his head.
“Newts are more like frogs than snakes. They’re amphibians. And my name is Newton but my big brother always hated that. He couldn’t say it.”
Soup was served in bowls for all five of them, and it was Chastity who said grace. Newt glanced around the room, his eyes uncertain. As though he didn’t know how to say grace, what to do. When he took a mouthful of the soup he frowned while Mary Lou’s own children devoured it. Credence’s mother had said that it would only weaken witches, that only witches would notice it was tainted. That appeared to be true. Newt stumbled to his feet, and Mary Lou stood up, pointing at the symbols painted on the door.
“You are a witch!” She spat.
***
Newt looked in horror at the symbols drawn onto the floor, signs that tapped into ancient magic to slow him – and there was something strange about the food. A taste that wasn’t right. He started to walk forwards, ignoring the dizziness that threatened to topple him, but the woman approached. She was holding out what looked like a leather bracelet, but it hummed with magic. She grabbed his hand and fastened the bracelet closed, and Newt felt his own magic dim.
She turned towards his case, but Newt moved faster. He had to keep the creatures safe, no matter what the cost. There was a button on his case that would send the creatures home to Theseus, home to safety. He fumbled, pressing it rapidly, and watched as it vanished from view. Giving up his creatures was terrifying, but he had to hope Theseus would come to find him.
The woman looked at him coldly, and then smirked.
“Credence, search him…” She ordered, and then smirked. Credence’s hands ran over Newt’s arms, freezing when he felt the wand that was in Newt’s sleeve. Newt was unable to fight as Credence pulled it from him, throwing it to his mother’s feet as though it were a snake. She bent down and snapped it, sparks flying through the air.
“Take him to the cellar.” She commanded.
The boy cringed as he stepped forwards, looking uncertain. Newt could see him shaking, but when the boy walked Newt followed. He didn’t want to get him into trouble. Whatever was happening, he refused to make it worse for these children. It was clear that Newt was already at the mercy of this woman. She walked with the two of them, stopping Newt from having the opportunity to speak to the younger man, to comfort him.
The cellar door was opened, and Newt took a step forwards. For a moment he caught sight of dark stains on the walls and floor of a small room, with no furniture other than some chains which hung from the ceiling. Newt still felt dazed, unable to fight as she forced his hands up above his head and trapped them there. Her hand slapped the side of his face, and she smirked before walking away.
Newt hung there helplessly, trying to twist his fingers so he could reach the leather band around his wrist, but there was no luck at all.
***
Unable to remove the bitter taste from his mouth, Credence headed to his bed. He picked up the leaflet he had hidden, and slowly wrote out three words using his right hand.
WITCHES EXIST – TRUE