Credence stared out the window, trying to hold back the tears as he thought of what Dumbledore had said. Was he destined to be nothing more but the boy with the Obscurus? It hurt to know his Obscurus might be the only thing that would be useful in the war.

A soft knock was heard on the door. "Credence?" Caoimhe's soft, melodic voice drifted though the air. "Is something wrong?" Credence asked. Caoimhe opened the door, walking to the bed to sit beside him. "Funny. That was what I was going to ask you," she said. She placed her hand over his. "Please open up to me, Credence."

"Why is it that people only remember me because I have an Obscurus? That's all I'll ever be known for."

"You don't even want to be remembered in wizard history. You just want to be a normal wizard."

"How did you know?" Credence asked. "Credence, I've been living with you for seven years. I know the way you think like I know the back of my hand," she replied. They sat in silence for a moment. Caoimhe bit her lower lip, her eyebrows scrunched in concentration as she tried to think of a good solution. "Do you ever notice that you wrinkle that area-" He pressed his finger to the area between her eyebrows. "-when you really concentrate?" Caoimhe smiled, cocking her head. "You're calling me old now?" she teased, and Credence blushed. 

More silence.

"Caoimhe, will you be entering the war?" he asked. "I think I have to, Credence. I mean, who knows what will happen if I don't? I'd be a good diversion, and I'm a good fighter. I'm not like Theseus, but I could be a big help." "Caoimhe, no! I can't let you risk yourself for something that probably won't work out! We'll have a huge disadvantage in numbers!" Credence exclaimed. 

"Dumbledore needs me."

"I need you."

Caoimhe looked up at Credence. There was a moment of silence, but to Credence, it felt like an eternity. A small blush crept up her cheeks. "Grindewald will stop at nothing to get his way. If he wins, he will hunt you down and use you. I'm doing this for you, Credence. I need you too."

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Caoimhe, "I love you." But he stopped himself, biting down on his tongue, remaining silent. That would be for another time. But when? he thought.