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A/N: The number of plagiarist profiles in the Harry Potter Fandom is getting out of hand again. I urge all readers before they read a story from an author they haven't known for more than six months to check out their profile to see how long they've existed and to check out the reviews. There are a lot of members out there sick of this issue and are posting reviews that a work has been stolen and where to find the originals.
Friday 9/7/90
Dear Harry
Before I get side-tracked, I enclose my new address.
Spencer Reid
Dabney House, Room 47
Caltech
1200 E. California Blvd.
Pasadena CA 91126
I'm sorry it took so long, they don't assign permanent housing for the first week, usually two. In my case it was quicker than normal because only a few of the houses were willing to have a student so underaged.
Caltech is wonderful. I've survived my first week of classes without being injured and I've even made a friend. His name is Ethan he's just over two years older than me having just turned fifteen, and he says we should stick together because we're the only two underage freshmen in STEM courses this year. He's my roommate for that reason too. He's intelligent and I deduce that he will be very competitive about grades, but he hasn't said anything negative about me being younger, smaller or weirder than he is. Our dorm room is comfortable with two desks and bookshelves so we don't have to share, and two beds and wardrobes and stuff as well. The other students on our floor have been friendly enough so far though they're not making much effort to get to know us, which to be fair I haven't made much effort to interact with them either. Distant tolerance is all I hoped for from them and I have that, I don't want to risk it by trying for more and letting them see how weird I am.
Classes are fantastic, I'm learning so much and it's so great not having the teacher have to stop midway through an idea to discipline the class and lose their train of thought. The professors are all so knowledgeable and seem to enjoy teaching their subject and so far they've been happy for me to ask questions too, instead of getting irritated at me. I'm not the only one asking intelligent questions either, and the other students listen to my questions and a lot of them write down the answers which makes me feel safe asking. Even the humanities class I'm only taking to meet the requirements for my degree is interesting. I'm cheating a bit taking psychology which is more of a soft science than a humanity subject, though the university counts it as meeting one of the humanities requirements. Ethan chose to take musical history for his humanity, he plays several instruments and thought it would suit him. I must admit I picked up his readings for class for this month the other day and it was quite interesting, about the historical and political influences on the most famous composers through the eighteenth century.
I still miss Mom, especially in the evenings. I have to admit though it's nice to get home from classes and not have to prepare myself for whatever I'm walking into, or worried about my things being destroyed. I tried to call her midweek bit she wouldn't come to the phone, she's never trusted telephones. Luckily Aunt Ethel was there and able to tell me she was okay and has been taking her medications and getting up and dressed every day. I write to her every day but she hasn't yet written back. Hopefully she will soon. I'm on the train home to visit her as I write, Ethan thinks I'm mad going home to visit so soon and I don't want to explain to him why. I feel guilty about keeping Mom a secret. I'm not ashamed of her but life is easier when people don't know, it's bad enough being the perpetual baby of the class without being the kid with the crazy mother. Does that make me a bad son?
I am ashamed to admit, even to you that already knows my trick how to cheat the casinos out of free food, that I am continuing with my petty criminal activities. I overheard one of the girls at school talking about how easy it is to catch a train without buying a ticket if you look like a kid. Then if the conductor does catch you, you tell them you were running late for the train and ask to buy a ticket telling them you got on at the most recent stop. I was a bit hesitant because the train ticket costs more than the bus and it would blow my budget if I had to purchase a ticket too early but she was right I'm already nearly half way home and I haven't been caught yet and the train is much more comfortable than the bus and I've been able to get a lot more work done on it too. I expect it will only work if there's a different conductor Sunday night, because if I get caught today they'll remember where I got off on Friday. I know that' it is sort of stealing a ride but it's not costing the train company anything for me to be here, and it's not like I'm depriving them of the fare because I wouldn't have caught the train at all if I had to pay and there's plenty of other empty seats. There's a school group about my age and I'm sitting near enough to look like I'm with them. Ethan's talking about buying a motorbike and a full face helmet, he said that would be a good way to get around the fact we both look too young to drive a car. He says he'll teach me to ride but I can barely even ride a bicycle so I'm more than a little apprehensive about the idea and getting caught riding on the road without a licence would be a lot more serious than getting caught without a ticket on the train.
Part of me wishes I could somehow move Mom to California so I could go to school here and live with her and look after her but it isn't possible. She doesn't like to be away from home and her familiar things. Not to mention how much trouble we had trying to find a doctor she would trust and how hard it was while she was refusing to take her medications during that time. The other part of me feels guilty that I'm glad she isn't here, that I can make friends without wondering what they'd think of her, and concentrate on my studies without being worried that I'll get home and find she's destroyed my computer because she thought the government was using it to spy on her. I still worry that she's not eating properly or going to hurt herself or burn down the house. But then I remind myself that it's not my responsibility at the moment and there's nothing I can do about it from California, even if I went to UNLV she could still do those things while I'm away attending class or sleeping. I feel selfish not being there. I know you're right when you say that my relatives should have been helping all along and that I'm not even thirteen yet and it's not selfish to want to be a kid for a while longer, but it still feels like I'm letting Mom down.
Sorry this letter has been all about me, I hope I haven't bored you, I just had so many good things and worries I wanted to share with you. Writing to you always makes me feel better. I hope things are still going well for you.
Your friend
Spencer
A/N2: Thank you to all those who reviewed followed or favourited this story for your support.