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One would think, being a wizard, life would be simpler. Cameron had certainly had this idea when his Auntie first told him that he was magical. His first thought was ‘life is going to be so much easier now’. How incredibly wrong he was. The more he learned, the more complicated things got and now. Now he found himself huddled in a corner trying to figure out yet another ministry document. Pages upon pages that just made his head spin. He was born here, there shouldn’t be an issue of him overstaying his welcome. Except, in some forms, it seemed he still didn’t exist. How that lawyer was able to track him down in South Carolina when certain ministry departments didn't know he was alive.

A small tremor raced down his hand to his fingers as the chair across from him pulled out. And then French. He could not deal with trying to convey he just needed some space to someone who didn’t speak English. And he didn’t know any French outside of Bon jour and Bon appetit.

“Sorry, I just--” he shuffled all the parchment he had strewn across the table back towards him. The place was small, maybe there were no other tables. He pressed his hands flat on top of all his documents when he realized the small shake was growing. He should just go home. Except that thought was always quickly followed by to what, and that seemed to have him paralyzed.

Looking up to the witch who sat across from him, Cameron hoped that she hadn’t noticed that he had been on the verge of pulling out his hair just moments before. “Sorry. I can make space.”