Obscure Occurrences |C. BAREBONE|

☛ Thirty-One ☚

• December, 1926 •

Grindlewald had called for Genevieve once again, he needed her after he had seen into Credence's mind. He witnessed a hurt... Vulnerability. It was a perfect opportunity for him to manipulate the boy further; he obviously couldn't tell this to Genevieve though. Grindlewald wanted Genevieve to find her own way with Credence.

Moments after her meeting with Grindlewald, Genevieve had appeared on a nearby street where Credence quietly gave out leaflets, his open arm avoided by the people passing by.

How she regretted not taking him to England.

From afar, in the night's, street lamp light, Genevieve saw his features clearly. They were hauntingly beautiful yet haggard and pained. Right until the point he saw her. Within seconds, his expression lit up, causing him to forget the white heat plaguing his palms. Credence cast it out of his mind as he witnessed Genevieve disappear down into an alley.

Credence didn't hesitate to follow closely behind with a haste in his step. Reaching her was like reaching his own, personal heaven. He would drown in Genevieve; she would be thick, intoxicating honey.

When he caught Genevieve, it was by the cuff of her coat. At first he feared her reaction as she whipped around into his chest. But there was no need for worry. When Genevieve's eyes met his own, a smile curled against her pink lips. She was genuinely happy to see him.

"And I thought you didn't notice me" Genevieve giggled as her hands rested against his chest, her fingers caressing his inexpensive, threadbare jacket.

"I'll a-always notice you" He said, gaining confidence as her heat mingled with his.

"Me too" Genevieve agreed before pressing an innocent kiss to the top of Credence's nose. At first, he wriggled it at the the unfamiliar sensation until he reciprocated the gesture.

For half-an-hour straight after, Genevieve remained cuddled against Credence. She basked in the intimacy forcing her to push her body closer to him. Genevieve missed this. Only once did they touch like this and so brazenly but that once was enough to make Genevieve lust after the feeling. She craved it whole-heartedly while in England.

However, the moment was soon broken when Credence pulled back to reveal a sudden, sullen expression.

"Genevieve?" He asked, waiting for the witch to give permission to speak.

"Yes",

"Do you think I'm a freak?".

Genevieve's body seized up, her mind already fuming at the question.

"No, who said such a thing?" She went on to gasp, her features flushing red until Credence held her tighter.

"The man at the News agency...".

"Forget about him Credence-" Genevieve huffed, "- I think you're a special young man. Otherwise, Graves and I wouldn't have requested your help....
Have you any news?".

"I'm still looking" he whispered as Genevieve caressed his cheeks with her thumbs.
"I-If I knew whether it was a girl or a boy-".

"Remember Credence, Graves only saw a child with immense power-" Genevieve smoothed down his hair, "- no older than ten" she proceeded to coo.

"That could be any one of hundred" Credence sighed.

Genevieve gulped down her feelings in this moment. She needed to do this... To lie.

"There's something Graves hasn't told you. And I should keep this secret but I'm telling you now... I saw you beside me in New York, Credence. You're the one who gains this child's trust, you are the key-" she whispered in false delight, "- Graves saw this and told me personally. And I'm taking a risk telling you... You want to join the Wizarding world, yes? I want those things too; for me and for you especially. So find the child and we'll all be free. You and me, Credence and Genevieve: Together forever".

Credence nodded in agreement, his lips curling with a new-found joy as Genevieve reluctantly raised to her tippy toes and brought her lips to his own. Once they touched, there was a real electricity which coursed through her body. Never had she felt such a thing from anyone else. It was just him.

Genevieve knew he wouldn't be part of the Wizarding world. Genevieve knew he was only a Muggle but in moments like these she forgot and refused to believe it. She wanted so badly for him to be like her: a late-bloomer. Genevieve just wanted to stop lying. Because her mind couldn't take the deceit while Credence's arms curled around her and hesitantly walked her against a wall.

The Barebone boy was absorbing every spec of warmth Genevieve emitted, desiring to sponge it up for himself and keep it hidden forever in his protection. Even if he wasn't the best fighter or trained in magic, Credence would shield that heat, tooth and nail until it was again safe in his arms.