obscurial | ✔

Newt followed Credence underground.

He Apparated to the foot of the stairs leading to the train platform—strange Americans and their underground railways, he thought, wand at the ready. He prowled in, senses alert. Credence was down here—but Graves would be too, soon.

A writhing mass of shadows and tendrils of something decidedly magic seethed between two archways maybe a dozen meters down the tracks. Newt moved to the edge of the platform. "Credence," he called softly to the Obscurus.

The mass moved in response, light flickering deep inside it.

"Credence," Newt said again, pitching his voice toward the boy but keeping it low, gentle. "You're okay, Credence. You're all right. You're safe now, Credence." He tried to repeat his name was much as possible—keep him grounded, bring him back to himself. "Do you mind if I come closer?"

BAM! Graves appeared on the tracks barely two meters from Newt, a spell already launched from his wand. Newt didn't have time to shield, instead Apparating a few meters to the left to avoid the spell. He had a shield up the moment his feet were back on solid ground. The stone above the staircase exploded, struck by Graves' spell. Chunks of marble rained against Newt's shield; he flinched back instinctively, peering through the dust to try to see Graves' next move. He didn't dare move for fear his shield would buckle.

The rocks stopped hitting his shield, dust settling on the tiled floor. The stairway was completely blocked by fallen marble.

They were alone.

Graves was moving along the platform toward Credence, wand out. Ready to harm. Newt couldn't defeat him in a duel but if he caught him by surprise . . . He grabbed a good sized chunk of marble off the floor. Graves wouldn't know what hit him.

He Apparated to Graves, landing just behind him, and dashed the rock against the base of the auror's skull. Graves collapsed instantly. Newt tossed the marble behind him and snatched up Graves' wand. Get back on track. He called, "Credence? Credence, can I come closer?"

He waited a beat, then slowly let himself down onto the tracks, taking slow steps along the ties. One every five seconds. "Credence, I don't know what Graves has told you, but he wants to use you. He wants to weaponize your pain. I . . ." Newt swallowed, pushing down memories of the Sudanese girl. "I can help you. I can make the pain go away."

As he spoke, the mass calmed bit by bit, compressing a little. Newt stopped a few meters away, giving the boy some space. Credence was frightened, injured. Getting too close would make him nervous.

"Credence, you're something called an Obscurial." Even tone, even breaths. "An obscurial is a child with magical powers who consciously suppresses them, mostly because they fear persecution. Because they've been taught or told that magic is bad. Does that make sense?"

The Obscurus was shrinking, faster now.

"Because they suppress a natural part of themselves," Newt said, "the magic becomes a dark, parasitic force, instead of something that can be nurtured and used. That's what happened with you." He paused, swirling words in his mouth. "I . . . I know you're frightened, and angry, and sad. I know you're hurting. If you want, I can remove the Obscurus from you. It won't be painless, and you won't have any magic, but you won't explode like this anymore. Is that something you want? Do you want me to help?"

Before he could observe even the beginning of a shift in the Obscurus' behavior, something drove into him from behind—someone. His head hit the metal rail so hard his vision went dark for a moment. Graves rolled off him, and Newt scrambled up, dizzy, realizing he'd dropped Graves' wand. The other man had it now, but he didn't use it—not yet. His fist slammed into Newt's face, sending Newt stumbling back, dazed, and before he could even think to shield—