~ Control ~ {Credence Barebone}

~ I Don't Know Why ~

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Chapter Six~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

December, 1930

The teacup shattered on the table as the spell hit it. The spell was supposed to make it float, but it's clear that's not what happened.

I swore, slamming my wand on the table.

"Relax, Credence," Newt pleaded. "You'll get it."

I ran my hands through my hair. I had let it grow out, it now falling down to my chin. "I've been trying for years and I still haven't got it. Is there just something wrong with me?" For the past few years I've been living with Mr. Scamander, and he's been sort of my "magic-mentor". Unfortunately, I seemed to be unteachable, the more of my spells failing completely. Every time I mess one up, Percival-Graves's voice rings in the back of my mind, telling me I was incapable of magic. I hated myself for it—hated the fact that he still had an effect on me.

At least I had one thing in control: my obscures. In between magic lessons and taking care of Newt's creatures, I had learned to take complete control over it. Now it only comes out when I allow it to. No amount of emotional-vulnerability can change that.

Well, I really wasn't sure that was actually true. I haven't been quite as "emotionally-vulnerable" as I was when I lived in New York.

"There's nothing wrong with you," Newt said matter-of-factly. "Magic can be hard for some people, especially those who haven't grown up around it."

I sighed, picking my wand back up. I tried a quick repair spell on the teacup. It did nothing. I shoved my jacket on and pocketed the wand. "I think I'm gonna take a walk. I'll be back soon."

~

When I'm stressed—which, admittedly, is pretty often—I liked to walk through the streets of muggle-London. There were fewer people on the streets due to the cold, but I wouldn't exactly call it dead. There were cars racing past, couples holding hands, friends laughing. I even saw some people walking their dogs.

There was this one shop in particular that always caught my eye, but never went into. It was this small little bookstore on the corner of the street. It never looked very busy, and it was clear it wasn't some sort of big business. The outside was a lighter shade of yellow. A blackboard read "escape the cold (and reality) with a good book and a cup of tea!", in a smaller font: "*tea not included*" along with a drawing of both the aforementioned items. The sign was usually different every time I passed by, but was always written in the same cursive.

I decided to take a small risk, entering the shop. A little bell rang, signaling my entrance.

A young women looked over at me from behind the counter and smiled. "Alexander!" she called out, "we got one!"

From behind one of the shelves, a man appeared.

His skin was dusted a very light brown, his hair black and curly. His eyes were as gray as the moon. My gaze shifted between him and the women and I realized how similar their features were. Siblings, probably.

"Hello!" He greeted, the smile on his face causing dimples to appear. "Welcome to Landers' Bookstore! As you can see, business is booming." He gestured to the store, empty aside from the three of us. "And yes, my name is Alexander Landers. Because my life is a joke."

"You're gonna scare our only costumer away, Xander," the girl pouted, leaning on the counter. She was very pretty, I noted, and young looking. They both looked about my age, maybe a little older.