Unlikely Companions

Chapter 13 Bad Omens

Their room at the Leaky Cauldron was a disaster when Mathilda returned. The table by the window had been upturned, her mattress had been slashed by something, and his lay in a crumpled heap in a corner. She dropped the book from her hands, letting it fall clattering to the ground.

"Credence?!" she yelled.

There was no answer.

The bathroom door was open, hanging from its hinges, and there was a massive water puddle from the exploded sink. Everything else was in a similar state of disarray – and there was still no sign of Credence.

Mathilda ran out of the room, heading straight for the bar. Tom, the bartender, was busy swiping the counter, but looked up with a smile when he saw her.

"Miss Burke, what –"

"Has anyone gone up to my room?" she asked, breathless.

"Well, no," the man said. "Only your friend, about 30 minutes ago."

She felt her heart stop in her chest. If Credence had gone up to their room at least 30 minutes before then, who knew where he'd be right now?

"Did you hear anything unusual?" she asked.

"Miss, is everything alright?"

"No, it isn't, Tom! He's gone, Credence is... gone."

The words hit her like a hippogriff flying at full speed. It was one thing to think about it, but to actually say it felt much worse.

"Tom," she said, trying to remain calm. "My friend is missing. He's not in our room."

"He hasn't come down."

"I know, he must have been taken... The room is in shambles so he probably refused... Don't worry, I'll pay for it," she added, seeing his desperate face.

"What can I do?"

"Find me an owl," she said. "I need to send a message. And..."

She stopped, remembering the room upstairs. There had to be something there, a clue or a mark, anything that could give away his location.

"I'll be upstairs, Tom," she finished, nodding distractedly.

The room was just as she had left it, messy and broken. She kneeled down on the ground, letting the rough wood of the floors bring her back to reality. Credence was gone and she needed to act, fast. Sending an owl to Newt was in order, so he could come to help her. But where would they go?

"Revelio," she whispered, foregoing her wand.

A trail appeared on the ground, the work of black magic – drag marks, probably belonging to Credence. They led to his mattress, which was still a shapeless mound in the corner of the room.

"Accio," she said, standing in front of it.

A necklace flew to her hand. It was small, silver, and clearly Grindelwald's symbol – the triangle crossed by a vertical line and with a circle in the middle.

She didn't realize she had fallen until much later, when Tom came with the owl she asked him. He stood, shocked, as she wiped the dry tear tracts from her face. She wanted to say that she was fine, but the words didn't form in her throat. He helped her up, keeping a strong grip on her shoulders even after she was on her feet again.

"Are you going to be alright, miss?"

"Yes," she said, nodding weakly. Because I'm going to find Credence, even if it's the last thing that I do.

---

She was getting changed, methodically and slowly. Comfortable shoes, she thought, I should take those.

The owl to Newt had been sent about an hour earlier, and she had continued to look for clues while he arrived. The room was messier, if that was even possible, but she had managed to find a particular leaf that belonged to a magical tree that was hiding in plain sight in a muggle forest – even better, it wasn't too far away from London.

She had replaced her fancy purple dress by one of her more modest ones – a brown checkered piece – and had put on an open sweater just in case. Her ankle high boots were secured, and everything she needed was hiding in the purse she carried at her side.

Mathilda had waited for Newt for what she considered to be enough time. She grabbed a quill, some parchment, and wrote him a letter. She ran out of the room, leaving the door open, went downstairs, and found Tom cleaning candle wax from one of the tables.

"Give this to Newton Scamander," she said, placing the letter in Tom's hands. "And here's this, for the inconveniences."

She dropped several golden galleons next to her letter, leaving the poor Tom shocked with the amount.

"Miss Burke, I can't accept this," he said. "It's more than twice of what I needed to charge you."

"It doesn't matter," she said. "Keep it. Thank you, Tom."

Mathilda tried giving him a weak smile, but she couldn't manage it. She turned around, held on tighter to her bag, and went in the back to enter Diagon Alley. Her feet hadn't completely touched the cobblestone street when she spun onto herself, vanishing into thin air – and wishing with all her strength that she would find Credence alive.