He moves the joystick of his wheelchair forward a little, peaking into every room he passes on his way to the kitchen. He is thirsty for a drink of some iced lemon tea right now, he spoke a lot in during his booster class for the students that are sort of lagging behind.

"Good afternoon Professor!" Samantha, the mutant with the ability to breathe under water eternally, greets her favourite tutor happily. The Professor smiles back at her, reminding her that she needs to hand in her overdue paper about molecular bonds soon.

"Jason!" The Professor grins widely, stopping at the bedroom door, "How are you today young man?" The fourteen year old,with powers that can liquify any solids, shrugs his shoulders and frowns.

The Professor frowns along with him and asks, "Why the long face?"

"I just... I don't have that many friends here. Can't I just go home?" He questions,making the Professor smile with sympathy.

"You could do that, or you could learn and become a brilliant professor like me one day," He chuckles, "Jason we are lucky to have you here. Your powers are phenomenal and with the right training you could be a worthy fighter if you wanted to."

"You think so?"

"Of course! Why would I say it then?" The Professor winks at the boy and leans closer to him in his seat., "And I don't say this to everyone, mind you."

The Professor wheels his chair closer towards his room, smiling at the prospect that he could relax and enjoy the rest of the day without any-

His wheelchair stops all of a sudden, with a jerk. Normally, he would have been alarmed but is the Professor a normal individual? No... No he isn't.

"Jenna, you're back!" He turns his chair around and the twelve year old hugs him. That gesture was something that surprised him.

"Hi Professor Xavier! Where are you going?" She asks with furrowed eyebrows, making the Professor chuckle.

"It's the weekend sweetheart, no classes today. I'm heading to my study," He explains, "How was your camping trip? Tell me all about it!"

She smiles brightly, "Well my dad took us to a lake and I showed him what I can do. He was so surprised and my mother started asking me to do things with it! I could tell that my brother was jealous."

Charles laughs wholeheartedly, "And you kept your powers in control? You didn't make the birds attack your brother correct?"

She shakes her head and he smiles. "Good work! I'm happy you're back Jenna, ask your friends about what you missed in class. Remember I'm always here to help, just knock on my room," He says and opens his arms for another hug, which the girl accepts happily.

The Professor watches her run off, a friend of hers grabbing her arm and taking her to the game room.

He loves the weekends. Though his students are still on the campus, and he adores them like they all were his own children even when he is not teaching them, he doesn't say no to time all by himself.

This year, he feels rather pleased. Usually he's quite nervous when new batches of students join in. He becomes so close to his past students who then leave after they successfully know the ins and outs of their gifts. But this year... He's happy to get right into his job of helping one understand that what they have is a gift rather than a curse.

The Professor is proud to be part of the mutant community. He wouldn't ever think of trading his powers for something else, for a normal life.

"Forget the ones that judge, they have no purpose at all," He mumbles to himself then opens the door to his study. He wheels his chair to his table and starts reading the papers scattered across the wooden surface. There are bills for running costs and written assignments from students. He decides that he'll go through it all later.

The Professor takes a deep breath then-

KNOCK! KNOCK!

"C-Come in!" He calls out after being startled. Moments follow and he finds Hank McCoy peeking into the room.

"Hi Professor," He greets, "Resting for the rest of the day?"

"Yeah that's my plan Hank," The Professor replies and places his elbow on the arm rest, and on which he puts his chin on top of his palm, "Anything you need?"

"Nothing really, you told me you wanted to clear up your office," He glances ariund the room, analysing the mess it is in with boxes half open and unloaded, furniture shifted around and books piled up on the floor in places.

Though the Professor enjoys clarity and organisation, with his minor OCD, he just doesn't put 'clean workspace, clean mind' under his priority list.

He sighs then rubs his forehead, "Yes that is a task still pending Hank. I'll get back to you about it."

Hank nods his head in agreement and shows himself out of the room but he Professor calls out his name before he had exited.

"Wait Hank!" He exclaims and the young man looks back over his shoulder. After a second to rethink his decision, he says, "If you're not doing anything right now, please help me finish this task once and for all."

"Of course Professor, where should I begin?"

"Anywhere, just dump anything in the bin that you feel is out-dated and of no further use. Honestly, half of this stuff is crap taking up my free space for no bloody reason."

Hank raises an eyebrow at the Professor's tone of voice though decides not to question it.

The Professor starts rummagining through the drawers of his table and the cupboard behind it, with nothing but papers and books filled. He starts to scoff, surprised at how much useless, hard-copy data he has stored.

If I haven't noticed it in the last three months, to the bin it is, He thinks then breathes heavily.

He might as well throw his office away and start all over.

The Professor coughs a bit after receiving a dusty, maroon and hard-covered book that has on it engraved:

'PROPERTY OF Prof. X'

He smirks then opens it up and rests back in his chair, reading mentally the first page:

'Property of Professor Charles Xavier, head of the School for Gifted Youngsters, or known to some as the Institute for Mutant Education and Outreach.

For contact, please check your local phonebook though you can always stop by our facility at:

1407 Graymalkin Lane, Salem Center, located in Westchester County, New York.

'MUTATIS MUTANDIS' '

The professor turns to the next page with a bright outlook on his face. For the first time, he's finding his interaction with his diary pleasing. He starts to mumble the written words on the page dated '01/11/1962':

'I have no idea why I even agreed to do this but they told me it would help with my loneliness... I am NOT lonely. Hank tells me that because of close friends dispersing and the loss of my legs...

Anyways, apparently I'm supposed to, and I quote:

'Record my schedule and anything that happens during the day. You don't need to have an entry for every day but if you want you could. It's your diary so... go crazy!'

I honestly have no clue about the purpose of such a concept. I, of all people, should be an expert on the mind, which I am without a shadow of a doubt, but Hank insisted in such a system to be integrated into my daily routine.

I'm writing this before I prepare for bed here at the hospital, though I'll probably write bits throughout the day. I've been in this room for the past four days since the 28th of October, when I got shot in the spine by Erik. It was a mistake... No, I really don't think so. I didn't get to read his mind while I was in pure agony.

It was so unexpected. Never in my life would I have imagined something like it to occur. I just... I wish I could walk again. Now I need to depend on someone to aid me when I need it.

Please don't expect to read a lot. I'll write a few entries to make Hank happy, I don't think I have the patience to do such an... absurd task.

So without further ado-'

"Professor?"

He jerks in sudden fright at the voice of his companion, and almost drops the book in his hands. "Y-Yeah Hank?" The Professor asks and runs a hand through his conditioned hair.

"Sorry, were you busy?"

"No, it's... alright. What's up?"

Hank picks up a a cardboard box and brings it over to the Professor. "This is a box I'm unsure about. I thought you should look through before I put anything away," Hank explains.

The Professor glances at the diary one last before closing it and placing it into his desk drawer.