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ramblings-of-a-mad-cat · 2 years

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I thought of you when the Qilin bowed to Dumbledore. I went "Ha, Blair's going to hate this."

Oh my goodness anon. You do me great honor. And yes, yes, I hate it. The saddest part is that I thought this movie was actually pretty good. Better than the second film, not quite as good as the first. It had some genuinely beautiful moments, some others not so great. (Lally needs to be mainstay. She's such a delight, they better not bench her like they did to Tina, or kill her off like they did Leta.)

Truly, it was shaping up to be a great movie. But then they did that. And completely fumbled the climax.

I kid you not, when the Qilin bowed to Dumbledore I started laughing so hard that I accidentally woke up my kitty. I had to pause the movie, as I laughed for a full minute, give or take. Something tells me that I'm not supposed to laugh at that moment. That it's supposed to be poignant and powerful. But seriously, seriously. Seriously. This movie expects me to buy that Albus War Crimes Abuse Apologist Child Groomer Dumbledore (Those are his middle names, right?) is pure of heart...? Give me a break, Rowling.

First of all, nobody is. Everyone has flaws, everyone's got demons. Not being pure doesn't mean you aren't a good person. This is just like the idea that only the pure of heart can cast a Patronus. Even if I accept the existence of "pure hearts," that is still balderdash of the highest caliber - fucking Umbridge could cast a Patronus. Even children aren't pure of heart, though I could be a bit more understanding if that was the take the series went with. You can call this a personal belief on my part, and fine, it is...but the movie says so too. Literally in the very scene when they establish the Qilin's powers, Lally clarifies that obviously, no one is actually pure-hearted. This is contradictory to what they go with later. Fine, for the sake of argument, let's say I accept that in this world, some people just have totally pure hearts.

But do not try to tell me that Albus Dumbledore is one of them. Albus Dumbledore, who plotted a fascist takeover with Grindelwald, who was complicit in the imprisonment of his sister and is at least indirectly responsible for her death (all of which the movie itself discusses) who refused to face Grindelwald out of shame, who never warned anyone about young Tom Riddle's behavior, who kidnapped infant Harry and then imprisoned him with abusive relatives, who left Sirius to rot in prison, who lied to Harry for years and groomed him into becoming a martyr at seventeen, who employed and constantly defended an unrepentant child abuser, and guilted Harry when he complained, who showed blatant favoritism for Order families, who hired a fraud to teach at Hogwarts for no other reason than to expose him, who kept the truth about the prophecy from Harry for years, who forced Sirius to live in the house he was abused in...

...Need I go on?

This man is not pure of heart. I recognize that I am pretty biased as a Dumbledore-Anti and one could make a case for him being more of a mixed bag. Fine, I acknowledge that one could make that case, that Dumbledore is a character who is more in the gray. I don't agree, but I get why people might see him as such. But someone who falls into shades of gray is not "pure of heart." That's the entire point. Not that it even matters because, as we seen, the Qilin itself is not infallible, nor do I understand why anyone thinks it would be? It's still a living creature. (Or a dead one, in Grindelwald's case.) It can be influenced just like anyone else. It's a baby for goodness' sake. Animals can be trained. Animals can be replaced with duplicates - would anyone apart from Newt be able to spot a dressed up fawn from a real Qilin? How many wizards on average even known what a Qilin is? Animals can also make mistakes just like humans - and Newt's Qilin clearly did.

But you know what's even worse than that? There's someone else at that ceremony who the Qilin should have bowed to. Someone better. In hindsight, it feels very obvious. The Qilin should have bowed to Jacob. No, but seriously, think about it. How many times did this movie make a point to mention how big Jacob's heart is, what a good person he is? I could have accepted this. Even moments before the Qilin takes her bow, Dumbledore himself is complimenting Jacob. Why doesn't the Qilin sense the purity in Jacob's heart? If she had bowed to him...can you imagine it? A Qilin bowing to a muggle, in front of all those people? Would leave all of Grindelwald's rhetoric totally discredited. Especially since he had just tortured said muggle with an illegal curse no less, but I guess everyone just ignored that? It would do far more damage to his cause.

I feel very strongly about this.

#Fantastic Beasts Spoilers #If anyone cares lmao #Fantastic Beasts 3 #Albus Dumbledore #Qilin #Secrets of Dumbledore #Anti-Dumbledore #Jacob Kowalski #Lally Hicks #FB Spoilers

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wilwywaylan · 2 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Credence Barebone & Aberforth Dumbledore Characters: Credence Barebone, Aberforth Dumbledore Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, post-FB3, mindful fluff, Found Family, I have feelings okay, Mentions of past abuse Summary:

What if you had a chance ? A chance to make everything right ? What if, for once, life was kind to you ?

Beta-ed by the amazing @calimera62 !

It had taken approximatively five hours for the rumor to go round the whole school. The older students had not even crossed the threshold, back from their day in Hogsmeade, that already the word had spread, through the corridors, up the stairs, down the passages, reaching the owlery and the greenhouses, slipping through the shelves in the library, climbing to the higher towers. Five hours later, every last student had heard everything about the new, shiny, exciting gossip, every last word about the new Hogsmeade inhabitant. Which, of course, was the cause of a great deal of frustration, because the large majority of them would have to wait two whole months before getting to see him.

It started with a group of Ravenclaws, who talked breathlessly about a mysterious, almost shadowy person they glimpsed. They couldn't agree on the location, some said at the Hog's Head, some in a field, behind the farthest row of houses, and according to one, hiding in the owlery in a way that was very ominous. Their bickering could have become a full-blown fight, had a few Hufflepuffs (and one Ravenclaw) not burst into the scene and confirmed that they too had seen the person, and that not only did they appear in both the Hog's Head and the overgrown garden just behind it, but it was a boy.

The new clue sent every student who heard it into a frenzy. They were falling over each other to bring to the table the juiciest tidbit of information, each trying to out-gossip the last. The boy was tall, he was strong, he was drop-dead handsome, he was dangerous, he was lonely, he was agressive, and silent, and talkative and...

At the end of the day, no one knew exactly what the boy was like, or who it was, or even if he was a boy, a man, a professor or a centaur. The students seemed to have reached a consensus, that the mysterious stranger was tall, younger than Dumbledore, and seemed to have dark hair at least longer than most of them had, hiding most of his face, making it harder to get a good look at him. Any more information would be a riddle for the ages, or at least for the very long two months before finally being able to see him with their own two eyes.

Credence slipped a piece of paper between the pages of his book and set it on the windowsill, away from the rain. He stretched his back, throwing his arms above his head, until his back gave a satisfying, painless crack. Just one year before, the gesture would have been followed by a sharp pain up his back, that, on bad days, would explode in his head in a flurry of sparks. Getting to sleep on a good mattress instead of a hard floor might have already played a role in his recovery, but it couldn't do much for that tingling at the back of his neck, that foreboding feeling that never receeded, dogging his every step. In all these years, he'd never been alone, the shadow over his shoulder always looking, always present, pulling at his neck, coiling around his ribs, crushing his breath inside his chest. A needle at the back of his mind, always in the red, always ready to burst, to flood his mind, lock him in place as terror overcame him. And that thing, that creature that was always ready to jump out when it did, raising mayhem and leaving him exhausted, alone and terrified. A neverending fear, of her, of himself, of all of them. And loneliness, almost as deafening as the screeches of the creature. Always with him, the only one to never leave him.

As with the pain in his back, being (troubled) (manipulated) (lied to) taken in by Grindelwald had only made it a little better. The bed might have been more comfortable, but the sensation was always there, a threat hanging above his head. The roaring at the back of his mind, if now tamed, was still as furious, ready to lash out at the slightest occasion, at him or at everything around him. Ready to turn into a beacon of destruction again, to make him an object of fear, of revulsion. The one you drive away, the one you beat, the one you kill. He'd been alone there too, followed but feared, surrounded, but enclosed. A wild card, a weapon, a tool of war more than a person. Even as a part of him now, the Obscurus had traced a line around him, a line that no one had dared to cut.

Not even Grindelwald. He knew it now. Grindelwald had watched him from afar, pretending to care about him, about his pain, about the emptiness inside him, when he'd never stepped close to him, never crossed that line. Never reached out to him. He gave him what Credence wanted - or thought he wanted -, crumbs of affection and answers made of lies. To better keep him at his heel.

It had hurt so much, when Credence finally realized it. Finally realized that it was all just the same, that it was just another person lying to him, leading him on to make him complacent. Someone else that saw nothing more in him than someone to be used, to do their biding while keeping him on a leash. A leash made of words, instead of fear and blood, but nothing more than a leash wrapped around his neck, that Grindelwald tried to tighten when Credence started to fight back, holding him at his heel like a dog. A dog, and nothing more.

A dog that bit back too late, he thought at he climbed the grassy slope leading back to the Hog's Head. Something moved on his left, a curtain as if waving in the breeze. But the chilly air was still, and the window was closed. Credence didn't pay it any mind. He'd grown used to moving curtains and ajar doors quickly closing when he went past. The news of his arrival certainly did get tongues running. Could he really blame them ? He didn't know. A part of him wanted to ; it had been very uncomfortable, on the first days, to feel those eyes on him, on his every move. A taste of the past that kept him inside, away from them.

He had been so scared, on those first days. Scared to have made the wrong choice all over again, to have given his trust blindingly, to have followed a man that would, once again, take advantage of him. Once, (Mother) (the Devil) (heartless) Mary-Lou told him that he would never manage to get free of his sins unless he stopped being so stubborn and submitted to God's will. He had tried, again and again, of course, but not once had she accepted his efforts. He'd always be the black sheep, the sinner, in her eyes... and maybe in his own too. Maybe that's why he surrendered, in the end. Maybe that was the path he was forced to thread, again and again, until the end of times.

The wall behind him is cold, seeping through his coat to chill him to the bone. He tries to gather himself, to stop his mind from spinning. He'd never get used to that way of moving, and he has been grabbed way too fast for him to get ready for it. He leans against the stone, trying to ignore the sharp ridges digging into his skin. The voice in his mind is roaring, stronger than ever, ready to break through the shreds of his barriers, to take over again, to destroy them. To destroy him. It takes everything he has, every little ounce of energy left to keep it at bay, just a bit longer. He's going to collapse in a few seconds, and it will come out. Maybe for the last time. The thought is not as scary as it once was. He's exhausted. He just wants it to end. To stop, once and for all. It's not comforting, just... sad. Empty.

A hand grasps his arm. He doesn't jump because there's just nothing in him that can get scared anymore, just looks up wearily. The man, the one he's been writing to through the mirrors, the one that protected him a few seconds ago from Grindelwald, is here. He's looking at him, and from so close, the worry creasing his forehead, filling his eyes, looks genuine. Credence stares back, tries to read his face. He's trying to see something of himself in him, something that would confirm that all of this is not a cruel lie, a new ploy from Grindelwald. That this strange man, the one who, not long ago, was an enemy, is who he claims to be. He can't see it ; the man looks a lot like the one he fought earlier, but nothing like him. Still, he's looking at him with a kindness that Credence suddenly really wants to be genuine.

- Did you ever think of me ?

The question has escaped him. There are a lot of things he wants to know, about that man, about what he wants and what he's going to do, and if he can trust him, but the words jumped out. The man gives him a sad smile, and squeezes his shoulder.

- Always.

His voice is hoarse, but there's no harshness in it, no bite. It's as soft, as gentle as he had imagined when he allowed himself to think about it. Credence can feel tears starting to roll on his cheeks, but he doesn't wipe them out. The man doesn't mention them, doesn't scold him for crying.

- Come home, he only says.

The words ring in Credence's mind, his own words, the ones he wanted so much to hear, reducing the roaring to nothing more than a whisper.

He nods.

The Hog's Head was almost silent when he pushed the door. Only two men were sitting in the back, too caught in their conversation to even acknowledge him. The woman near the garden window did look up briefly, but she went back to her book just as fast. Good. His novelty might have worn out, finally. Several times now, Credence had not felt the urge to hover near the door, trying to see if the room was clear before coming inside, to avoid the curiosity of strangers. Not a bad thing.

The man behind the counter looked up when he heard the door close. He gave him an encouraging smile that Credence tried to mirror, but didn't ask him anything. For this, Credence was grateful. Not that the attention was uncomfortable, of course not, but it was a bit... overwhelming. Going from being mostly ignored to the center of attention, even of one person, brought back memories that were better left to rest and burried under a stone. Not to mention the awkwardness of the situation between them. A few weeks before, the man was a total stranger, as Credence was to him. Just a few faceless words on a mirror, a few pleading, yearning sentences hastly wiped away. He'd wondered so much about this mysterious man, what he looked like, how he sounded. Would there be kindness in his eyes ? Would his voice be soft ? Would they look alike ? Or not at all ?

A cup was put on the counter in front of him. The clear liquid in it was still steaming, and smelled strongly of mint. Credence didn't even need to taste it to know it had been sweetened as he liked. He nodded in thanks. After pondering for a second if he would be better sitting in the kitchen, he pulled a stool and sat at the counter, his back turned to the room. Not his prefered spot, nor position, but for once, he didn't feel like locking himself away. He'd done it enough when arriving here, when he all but hid in his room and didn't meet anyone until at least one week had passed. But where he was expecting a rebuttal, a threat, maybe, or a promise of punishment, he was met only with silence. Food was deposited in front of his door, along with everything he might have needed, and no blame was given.

He did get out, sneaking out on the fourth day, around 2 AM, when he was sure no one was around. Why, he didn't really know. Fear of being caught was twisting in his chest, and he had to stop every two steps to listen for the slightest noise that would indicate another person awake. But he needed to get out of the room. He'd stepped along the corridor, trying to make himself as small and silent as a mouse. The old stairs had creaked a little under his feet, but hadn't gave him away. He'd stopped at the bottom, trying to figure what to do and where to go. Trying not to panic and run, too. To anyone, this would have looked like someone running away from home. It had brought to his mind memories of when he'd tried to leave the Second Salem's Church. He hadn't gone very far, and the very fleeting feeling of freedom hadn't been worth it.

But he hadn't meant to run away, not yet at least. Just... He hadn't known at the time, and he didn't know now. Maybe it was just a way of reassuring himself. Testing if the doors were locked as in Nurmengard, carefully coralling in the direction he was meant to, without giving him any choice. But all the doors were unlocked, including the one closing the pantry. Credence had been tempted to raid it, grab what he could and hole up in his room again, but he wasn't the hungry kid anymore, and that might have reflected poorly on him. Instead, he went to try the front door, and was bewildered to find it unlocked too. The little bit he'd seen of Hogsmeade hadn't given him the impression of a dangerous place, more like a small community. But still, to leave the door leading outside open to everyone... Everyone, including him. He could have left here and there, without glancing back. He could have left this place, try to find his place in this world again, away from everyone who may have known the old him and try to hold him back. Start anew, with a blank slate. There might have been a place where no one would know his secrets, and wouldn't care enough to find about them.

But he hadn't left, of course. Something had held him back as he tried to step over the treshold. A very slight hope that, maybe, this place could hold something for him. Not happiness, of course. This, he didn't hope for anymore. But maybe some kind of solace. A place to rest, after all these years spent running. A place where he shouldn't need to look over his shoulder. And so, he had closed the door, walked back to his room, careful not to make any noise, and went back to bed. Sleep didn't come until the small hours of the dawn, but it came, at last, and for the first time since he didn't even remember when, he didn't dream.

Things were not the same, after that. Slowly, Credence had started to feel more at ease in this house. Less jittery, less skittish. It wasn't a familiarity, not yet, but it was better. In no small way, it was helped by (his father) Aberforth, who was doing his best. He probably didn't know how to act like a father, who just got saddled with an adult man. Credence could have told him that his standards were so low that just being half-decent would have been miles above what he was used to. But that was not something he was ready to talk about yet. Later, maybe, when he'd feel comfortable enough. He didn't want to be pitied, and he didn't want Aberforth to feel forced to compensate for what he'd been through. Because he didn't need to. It wouldn't fix anything.

And if he kept just being there, and being patient, maybe there wouldn't be a need to fix it. Maybe, he thought while sipping a bit of the still-too-hot tea, maybe it would be enough, to stay here and just... be around. Why not ? Lately, he'd started to think about it, allow himself to carefully build a little fantasy. Nothing like the hazy half-wishes he'd kept well-hidden when in Nurmengard, or the stray thoughts that had made him felt so guilty when he was still with the Salemers. Nothing extravagant, either, just some wishful thinking. That, maybe, he could stay here, at the Hog's Head, and not leave again. He could work here, help with the customers, or clean the dishes if it prove too much for him. He'd go on walks around the village, explore the countryside that was brimming with things he'd never seen before, having spent all his life in the city. He could build a relationship with Aberforth, and with Albus too, maybe. Perhaps with the strange man with the suitcase, who came from time to time and sat alone in the corner. About him, Credence wasn't too sure yet. But when it came floating at the surface of his mind, he allowed himself the idea that he'd have the time to see.

Because yes, he'd have the time, if things turned in his favor for once. And why shouldn't they ? Why, for once in his life, couldn't he have a bit of luck, just a little bit ? He didn't ask for much, after all. Nothing but a little bit of peace, a little space for himself and that strange family he'd starting to gather. He could make himself a little life here. Not the kind he dreamed of when he was still very young and believed in fairytales, or the kind that Grindelwald had promised him. He didn't wish for a castle, power or money. Just a little life here, working in a pub like any other man out there. Learning magic didn't come up as often, it was still a part of his heritage he was wary of, but it had a certain allure. Especially when he could witness a feat of magic, either from Aberforth or from one of the kids that invaded the village from time to time. He could get a few lessons, enough to put it to use in his everyday life. Albus had offered to let him borrow as many books in the school's library, and he really wanted to take advantage of the offer. Just sit in a chair by the fire, with a good book, and take the time to just be.

So yes, maybe finally, things could get better, here in this strange little village lost in the mountains. Maybe he could stop being someone's tool, someone's monster, and start becoming Credence. Or Aurelius. After all, they were the same person, the one he could become, given time and just a little bit of happiness. And maybe, just maybe, he would find them there.

With the hint of a smile, Credence picked up his cup and saucer, brought them to the kitchen, and put them near the already full sink. He tied an apron around his waist, pulled his hair back, and started to clean the dishes, humming a little under his breath. Yes, happiness was within his reach, and he was going to take it. And maybe everything would turn out well for him. Not in the end, because that wasn't the end. It was a beginning. And maybe for him, it would be a happy one.

#fantastic beasts #fantastic beats and where to find them #fantastic beasts the secrets of dumbledore #credence barebone #aberforth dumbledore #canon compliant #fantastic beasts spoilers #found family #I just have lots of feelings okay #mentions of past abuse

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