AN: Sorry for the long wait! But here it is; hope you enjoy!
Thanks for those of you who wrote me reviews. Please know that I read them and take them into consideration, even when I don't use them instantly. I keep them in mind while writing.
With love,
Cornelia Spring
Chapter Four
Spencer felt the nerves fluttering as butterflies in his stomach as he looked at a book without actually seeing it. He'd seen a few young wizards and witches pushing trolleys full of schoolstuff, chatting excitedly to their siblings and parents. They were heading for the platform, of course, just as he was, but he'd suddenly felt the need to go into hiding and this little bookstore here at King's Cross station seemed like a safe haven. He told himself he was spending his last muggle cash so it wouldn't be lingering around and wouldn't mingle with the coins he would be using more from now on. Although it was something Spencer would do and spending it on books also wasn't something he was unaccustomed to, the sole reason was to take a deep breath before throwing himself into the deep. At least, that's what it felt like. He didn't know exactly why. Figuring out his feelings and the reasons behind them was definitely not his expertise. A lot was, but not that. Most of the time he would just let it pass before he could think about it too much. Sometimes a friend would notice his behaviour and help him sort it out. He would have to do that on his own now.
He laid the book onto the pile again as he realised he'd read it already last month. Maybe some informative books about the scenery in Scotland would ease the feeling of having insects on the inside of his belly.
Eventually he ended up with eight books, some about Scotland and some poetry and fiction. Just to have something at hand for his journey to the north. The shopkeeper eyed him with impatience as he tried to reach the last pound in his wallet, but he accidentally pushed too hard and out of his hands, dropping it onto the floor, throwing around every coin in it.
"Whoops, sorry," he mumbled while lowering to the floor to keep all the money from going everywhere and to keep the wizard money from being seen too much. When he reached up again with red cheeks he tried to stuff all his newly bought goods in his shoulder bag, but they wouldn't fit. He looked up to see the man behind the counter sighing with his arms crossed. Spencer looked around and found there were two people waiting in line, looking bored and impatient as well. He just grabbed all the books and hold them in his right arm, mumbling his apologies again before quickly exiting the shop, pulling his suitcase after him.
Bad idea, Spence. How is it possible you achieve to make a mess and piss people off everywhere you go? He thought to himself. Spencer Reid didn't mind being different, he had known all along that he was, but being noticed because of that had never become easy. His mom always told him that he was special, of course, and when he was younger it was what had kept him going, but when he got older… he noticed the glances people took at him more. Why would this super smart guy, who knew almost everything, be so freaking clumsy? Doesn't he know how to deal with this or that? Clearly, being a genius isn't everything.
He shook his head. Those were the things his mind always came up with after such a thing happened. Not that people hadn't said it to him, in fact, they had a lot. But you shouldn't let that get you down. You don't even know for sure people are thinking that. Don't go putting those thoughts into their minds without convincing evidence that they actually have them. The only thing you'll accomplish is torturing yourself and taking away people's free will. Well, in your mind only then. A lesson he'd learned from JJ, actually an expert on people's feelings. He still didn't know what he did to deserve her friendship, but he cherished it every day. He had a small crush on her when he first got to work with the BAU, but it had turned out to be nothing more than friendship. Spencer was fine with that. He loved her, but only as a close friend now. Almost as the big sister he never had.
He had reached the stone pillar with the barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. He looked around and waited for a young couple to pass him. When their backs was all he could see he tried to take a casual stand against the barrier, stumbling into the world which took up half of his life but which he had ignored for a while. He took a moment to watch the steam escaping the darkness of the smoke stack, making small grey clouds in the air, getting higher and higher. His insides jumped in excitement now. He was really going back.
He pulled his suitcase with him as he started towards the end of the train. A conductor helped him up the steps, into a compartment and put his belongings into the rack. It was still early and not very crowded yet, which Spencer was glad of. He liked to have some space and was therefore always on time for something such as this. He took a seat near the window, enjoying for a while watching platform 9 3/4 harbouring more and more children with relatives. There weren't as many students as there had been when he was one himself, but here were still a lot. He smiled when he watched a couple of eleven year olds talking animatedly to each other, making large hand gestures, while their parents watched them from the corners of their eyes, knowing they were up to something. His smile faded when he noticed a mother hugging her son in silence, tears slowly dripping from her eyes. The son couldn't be much older than fourteen or fifteen, but he was returning the hug quite firmly. It gave Spencer a sad feeling. Not that the boy couldn't be hugging his mother goodbye this way and that she wouldn't let a tear fall because of it, but the sight just screamed the loss of a family member. It was the reality this world had to deal with now.
He couldn't bear to look at it any longer and turned his eyes to his hands. Guilt flowed in waves over him, like the sea on the beach. He hadn't been there.
He hadn't been here when they had needed him; when they could have used him, as they needed every possible person on their side. Not that anybody had pointed this out to him, had accused him of forgetting them, leaving them be while they needed every help they could get. But he felt it, deep in his person. Guilt is a powerful thing. It has the tendency to swallow you. That's what Spencer felt like at that moment. If he were just ten years younger, it could have been him or someone he knew to hug his mother like that. Saying goodbye to a parent who needed him. Having to take care of himself, emotionally broken or no.
But he didn't go. Instead, he stayed where he was, safe in America. Fighting the evils he deemed bigger than the one in England at the time. Why? What had made him think it wasn't as serious as it definitely had been? He was supposed to detect evil. It was even his fucking job!
When it turned out to be this bad in England and the rest of the wizard population slowly seemed to realise this too, it had haunted Spencer's mind. He had had dreams about the terrible deaths of people, the angst of being a muggleborn in a country where there was no tolerance, the fear to stand up for what was right and seeing people you know choose the wrong side because of dreading their fates.
He stretched his fingers when he realised his knuckles turned white as he clenched them. This terrible feeling of guilt which he couldn't fight within himself was part of the reason why he was going back. Helping the people he neglected in time of need. His people. His job.
He jumped in surprise when his compartment door opened and two male students appeared. They were discussing something fiercely - Spencer thought he heard one of them mentioning a specific kind of broomstick - as they stepped into the almost empty space, but they stopped abruptly as they noticed him. He smiled faintly at them. They had interrupted his dark thoughts and therefore was in no mood to be social, but one thing that came with the guilt was the determination to do the right thing now. A good teacher would try to make his pupils comfortable, even if they didn't know who he was at that point.
"Oops, sorry," said the tallest of them - Spencer thought he was a second or third year -, "are these seats taken?"
"No," Spencer sounded hoarse and cleared his throat. "Sorry. No. You can sit here if you like."
"Thanks."
They sat down at the other end of the compartment, slowly continuing their conversation. It was indeed about Quidditch. Spencer sighed. He'd never liked the sport. Despite his knowing all the rules, of course, he wasn't athletic at all. So he looked out of the window again.
There weren't many children left on the platform, as it was close to eleven now. He watched the long clock hand of the large clock move closer to the XII. He loved Roman numerals. They are never what they seem to be - letters, but for counting; numbers, but not used in maths. They are paradoxes. Like a good poem.
The last daring persons hopped onto the train, as it slowly began to move. More and more clouds of steam were drifting along the small window frames as the steam engine started moving with a small jolt. People waved, laughed and cried; some called a few last words to their family. Spencer smiled again despite himself. Even though his mother wouldn't see him off this time, there were a lot of children being waved at. They were having that particular feeling of going to this magical place again. Of going to their second home. And he was as well.
Spencer had just finished his third book when he felt the eyes of one of the boys he shared a compartment with on him. He looked up and the boy instantly glanced away, trying to look innocent. Spencer returned his gaze upon his book, even though there was no more to be read. Was it because of his reading speed or because he looked too old to be on the train with them? Not every teacher chose to travel to Hogwarts by train; they were entitled to get there whichever way they wanted, so they mostly didn't feel the need to waste all that time. But he felt he needed to do it the right way and this way he had some time to get used to being among magical people again. Besides, he had secretly wanted to postpone his first encounter with his old teachers. It would be weird for him to be a colleague to them. Not that he never had the same feeling before, but with everything combined… it was a good place to start.
He closed the book and laid it on the pile on the seat next to him. Picking up his shoulder bag - he took it with him everywhere he went - he shuffled slowly out of the compartment, giving the boys a small nod. It would probably look weird if he finished his eight books before it was even dark, so he had decided to take a stroll in the train. There was a possibility of another professor settled somewhere in the front and a talk with the driver was never a bad idea.
He moved along the compartments, catching glimpses of students talking, laughing, playing games and trying some magic with each other. He passed the trolley lady who offered him a warm smile and a chocolate frog for free. Apparently she knew he was teaching this year. Then again, she had always been fond of him, as he was sort of an outcast but had manners, unlike many of his fellow students.
Putting his new Harry Potter-card in his bag - he'd read it in three seconds - and quickly biting of the head of the frog before it could get away, he reached the end. He had not seen another teacher, not even Horace Slughorn, who had always been inclined to kick the new year off with his small group of particular interesting pupils. He probably thought it best to see who was even coming this year before making favourites.
After some smalltalk with the driver, who celebrated the start of another normal year with colourful decorations in his cockpit, he decided to head back to his seat. The corridors were getting more crowded now the sun had started to set and they were getting closer and closer to Hogwarts. Chattering sounded from the groups of people standing in the hallways or sitting in their compartments with their doors open.
Spencer felt somewhat in a hurry as he wanted to watch the sunset from his own window. As he passed some giggling fourth year girls who were bowing over some box in which something plopped every five seconds, spreading a puff of pink glitter in the air, hovering above their heads for a moment or two, he was distracted and accidentally ran into another person. He extended his hands and grabbed the person's arms as to make sure they both didn't take a fall. The quick reflex amazed even himself and he looked down into a female face surrounded by a big bush of brown hair.
His heart stopped.
The hair, small posture, big round eyes with the colour of chocolate, filled with surprise as well, looking up at him as she was standing a head shorter than he did. He recognised her immediately from the papers, even though the pictures had been in black and white.
He had ran into none other than Hermione Granger.
