CIRCUS BOY (sisforsmith) wrote in from_the_ashes, @ 2009-10-11 18:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | char: joe, char: spencer, plot: bindrunes |
Who: Spencer & anyone
Where: Staff lounge
When: Monday afternoon
What: Free day, free day.
The key to not sleeping, Spencer had discovered, was to stay in motion as much as possible. This was a little difficult when you were so tired you couldn't move very well without tripping over things, so Spencer had developed a foolproof method of moving from place to place, and then lying somewhere quiet for a while, until sleep threatened again and he had to get up and move around once more.
The cancellation of classes on Monday came as a gift, as Spencer was getting a little desperate when it got to classes. He felt especially guilty with the NEWT students -- they had their final exams coming up this year, they needed him to be able to teach them, but he was having trouble linking things together in his head, let alone out loud. Questions were too often met with tired stares, and he was using a couple of battered textbooks William had unearthed for him at the beginning of the year shared between the students as a means of teaching. They were hopelessly outdated, but they were still better than incoherent mumbling, which Spencer had an awful feeling was the best he could manage these days.
A couple of hours after lunch, Spencer almost nodded off sprawled under a tree by the lake, even with roots digging into his back, so he picked himself up off the ground, brushed off excess grass, and headed for the castle. The corridors were mostly empty, which was a little frightening. Study day or not, Spencer would have expected kids to be racing around and making the most of a day without classes. Instead, the castle felt too silent. Most of the paintings acted as though it was the middle of the night, drowsing contentedly in their frames. Spencer tried not to hate them.
The staffroom was empty when he got there, and he made a beeline for the couch, sprawling out on it. It was just a little too small to fit his legs, which was good, and he propped his neck up in a way sure to give himself a crick. Then he closed his eyes, and started reciting Latin names for plants in his head. No sleep, he thought, firmly, and then, small even in his own mind, I wish my mum was here.