~ Control ~ {Credence Barebone}

~ Fools ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Chapter Seven~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I returned to Landers' Bookstore the following week, I made sure to bring enough money for more than one book. It was a little hard to acquire, since the Wizarding World has its own separate currency, but I managed.

I didn't get the same greeting as last time. In fact, Alexander and Helen were nowhere to be found. Instead behind the counter was a burly man who looked uninterested in my arrival. I quickly disappeared into the bookshelves.

It wasn't until I was in the last row of shelves I saw Alexander appear from a door in the back. He was carrying a stack of books so high he had to tilt his chin to see.

"Do you need any help?" I asked. At the sound of my voice, he jerked his head up, causing the stack to shake. I rushed up to him and straightened them before any could topple to the ground. "Sorry."

"You're good." He placed the books gently on a nearby cart, and began sorting through them. "You came back," he noted, back turned to me. I thought I could hear a slight lift in his voice, but I was probably just imagining it.

"I did." I suddenly felt very self conscious. What was I even doing here? Why was I trying so hard to impress this stranger? Was my tie on straight? Why do I even care?

Alexander turned around, leaning on the cart until it started to roll backwards, in which case he resorted to standing up straight with his hands in his coat-pockets. "You're from the States, are you?" He asked.

It took me a moment to realize he meant America. "Yes. How did you know?" I only thought about how dumb that question was until after I had asked it.

"Your accent," he said, confirming my post-dumb-question thoughts, "very American." Before I had the chance to say something else, he spoke again, "What part are you from?"

"New York."

"New York?" His eyes seemed to light up. "Hell, what are you doing here, then?"

Despite the negative memories from the first eighteen years of my life pushing their way from the back of my mind, I couldn't help but smile at his sudden enthusiasm. "I needed a fresh start."

"Man of mystery," he smiled back, "I like that."

~
I found myself at the bookstore more and more often, leaving after my lessons with Newt and coming home in time to check on the creatures before bed. When Alexander wasn't at the store, Helen was, and vise-versa. Sometimes there would be a couple of other people browsing, but usually it was just me. The burly man's name was Tom, and the only words he's ever spoken to me were my total at the checkout. I didn't particularly mind, but I could see how his less than enthusiastic attitude could negatively affect the store's sales.

"Not many people are willing to work here," Helen said about him one time, "we kind of take what we can get." I didn't ask her what she meant by that. I didn't want to pry.

It was clear Alexander was the more friendly of the pair. He greeted me and any other customers they may have had with a hello and a smile. Sometimes he would chat with me while I was browsing. Today he was talking—well, ranting—about Shakespeare. This was in part because they got a shipment full of copies of Romeo and Juliet.

"I don't see how this is his most famous play," he was saying, "it's about a teenage boy who can't keep it his trousers—both his swords," he looked quite proud of that joke, "and a girl who so hooked on this average boy that it's honestly kind of sad."

"I think the point of the story was that they were from feuding families."

"Sure, I get that, but they didn't have to kill themselves over it. The whole ending could have been avoided if Romeo just waited one bloody minute before taking that poison."

"Then it wouldn't be The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet." Honestly, I never read Romeo and Juliet. I've read a couple Shakespeare plays, but never that one. I just liked hearing Alexander talk so passionately.

"The only tragedy is the fact that people actually call this the greatest romance story of all time." He took a deep breath. "Anyway, how has your week been, Credence?" He shot me a smile that told me he had moved on from ranting about Romeo and Juliet.

"Pretty good." Something I couldn't tell him: I've been getting better at magic. Slowly, I was doing the spells that I could never seem to get before. Even Newt seemed surprised when I finally cast the Repairo charm this morning. I didn't even get how it happened; I did all the studying, I knew the words and how to move my wand, but the spells never worked. But now, suddenly, they did! I was curious as of why, but mostly I was just happy. "How about you?"

"Better now that I get to see you." He took a sharp breath in and became very invested in restocking the shelf. "I just mean that...it's good to see a friendly face." In the couple of months I have been coming here, I had never seen Alexander act nervous when talking to me. If anything, he acted overly friendly. I wasn't sure of the reason for this change, but it made me feel...weird.

"It's good to see you, too."

His smile came back. "Hey! I was wondering: would you like to come to my apartment for dinner tomorrow night?"

Just a second ago he was acting shy, but now he's confidently inviting me to dinner at his apartment? I really couldn't get him sometimes. "Dinner?"

"Yeah! Helen will be there, too."

"Oh."

His face fell just barely enough for me to notice. "It's okay if you don't want to."

"No, it's—"

"Is tomorrow night not a good time for you? We can reschedule, if you want."

"Tomorrow's fine." I've never been invited to someone's house for dinner before. I didn't know what I should wear or how I should act. Did Alexander really care about that? He didn't seem like someone who would. "I don't have your address, though."

"Hm." He rummaged through his pockets, before pulling out a pen attached to his jacket. "Give me your hand."

I did so, albeit reluctantly. His thumb brushed over one of the scars and I think I visibly jumped. His eyes caught mine for a moment, his face oddly serious. Then he remembered himself and wrote the address down on my hand. "Let's say tomorrow afternoon at...seventeen thirty?"

I had to do the math in my head. I still haven't gotten used to England. "Five thirty?"

He chuckled. "Oh, you want the American time." He wrote "1730 = 5:30" on my hand. "I should stop before I become mad with power and write everything wrong with Romeo and Juliet on your hand." He let go of my hand. Part of me was relieved, another part of me didn't want him to let go.

"Are you still on that?"

"I'm always on that, Credence."

After all this time,,,,I still can't properly end a chapter.

I don't have much to say here, and I'm probably going to start doing author's notes less, but I wanted to thank you guys for nearly 800 reads on this story!

Also I caved and saw Crimes of Grindelwald and.....I sort of wish I hadn't

It was,,,,,,,not good

This story will very likely have little to no details from the new movie, expect for a few things I liked (like Newt's basement being full of creatures). But the main plot (if there even was one) of the movie won't make an appearance in this story.

Also J.K. Rowling can rip queer Credence out of my cold, dead hands.

Anyway, I hoped you guys enjoyed this chapter, and, as always, thanks for reading!

~All_The_Single_Hades ❤️