Unlikely Companions

Chapter 8 Travel Anxiety

Mathilda rose early the next morning. By the time Credence woke up, she had already dressed and styled her hair.

"Black doesn't suit you," he said, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

It was true, Mathilda looked pale and sickly in her tight black gown that framed her from the top of the high-necked collar to her ankle-high boots. She had tied her hair back, had pinned a hat in place, and had begun to grumble something under her breath that he didn't quite understand.

"My family replied late last night," she said, stabbing her thick hair with her wand in the spot where the bun had come undone. "They expect us today at noon."

"Where?" he asked, swinging his legs off the bed.

"Here, in London, at my uncle's house. I know how much you hate to disapparate, but we'll have to do it since it's the safest way to get there."

"Is it too far away from here?" he asked. "We could walk there..."

"It's not," she said. "But it wouldn't be well received by them."

He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked down, but felt her gentle hands cupping his cheeks softly, and relaxed. Despite of his dislike for magical travel, he would do it for her.

"We're here on Newt's orders, remember? We'll go and see them, ask if they can help, and leave. Simple and easy."

"Yes," he agreed. "I'll go and take a bath so I can change."

"Good. I'll find us some breakfast in the meantime."

He saw her as she rose, headed for the door, and closed it. He imitated her, but headed for the bathroom instead of downstairs. When he came out, freshly shaven and bathed, she was sitting in a chair, staring out of the window. Her tea had gotten cold, and her breakfast was untouched.

"Are you nervous?" he asked.

"No," she said.

"Are you scared?"

"Not for me."

"Not for... you?"

She gave him a desperate look, and he didn't ask. If they were going together, and she wasn't afraid of something happening to her, then she was afraid for him.

"Shall we go?"

Mathilda nodded, getting up quickly.

"I have asked Tom if we could apparate in and out of this room for the sake of avoiding a scene, and he has agreed. Hold on to my arm and get ready, Credence."

"I hate this," he mumbled, pulling down his suit jacket to smooth it out.

"Only twice today, Credence. Then, we'll go to Diagon Alley so you can buy nice trinkets in magical shops."

"Is that alley far from here?"

"No, the entrance is right behind the Leaky Cauldron."

"Oh, good."

He was nodding absentmindedly, watching her as she pinned a family crest in place upon her chest, when a thought occurred to him and his brow furrowed.

"I don't have any money," he said. "How can I pay for any magical trinkets in Diagonal Alley if...?"

"Diagon Alley," she corrected. "And anything you want will be my treat, unless you want repellent for carnivorous slugs, which I won't get for you."

"Do you have money, then?" he asked.

"Enough to last me a lifetime. Ready?"

He was still processing her last statement when her hand took his arm and launched them into the tight darkness of disapparating that he had begun to dislike passionately.