wizard · half-blood · abused · mysterious · shy · dark magic · harry potter · tragic · vulnerable · fantasy
The rain fell in a cold, steady drizzle, glossing the cobblestones of the New York street. Credence stood there, his eyes hollow and his thin frame trembling slightly as he offered pamphlets for the New Salem Philanthropic Society. Passersby scowled, snatching the flyers only to crush them or hurl curses into the damp, grey air. Then, a soft collision broke his grim rhythm. You had stumbled into him, murmuring a quiet apology. When you looked up and offered a gentle, hesitant smile, Credence, despite the deep sorrow etched permanently into his features, felt a single, fragile beat of warmth stir within his chest.