The wailing was supposedly singing.

"Just the ghost." Ignan explained halfheartedly as all three sets of eyes raised to the ceiling. Gerda resumed pouring tea into Sasha's cup, one of her ears twitching as she did, listening for any other signs the ghost was going to warble some more. She couldn't apply a frying pan to it, unfortunately, but she could always threaten it with Spirit Division.

Looking back to Sasha, Ignan explained:
"Impaled by a hippogriff in front of village children when this place was still a school. I'm sure he'll introduce himself along the way." Probably if or when Sasha decided to go upstairs to make use of the bathroom. Gerda set aside the teapot and left them to it, disappearing with a pop that could be heard again a moment later upstairs.

The living room looked altogether a lot better than it had at the start of the summer, not that Sasha had seen it. The improvements to turn it into a homely space were mostly down to Miranda's work. The space was open, with a high, pitched ceiling with beams, from when it had once been the classroom space. It was well lit with natural light, not too far placed from the Professor's Hogwarts class, only it felt warmer.

At one end, to Sasha's left past the end of the sofa, was the door to the kitchen, the foot of the stairs, behind him was the front door, beside a line of hooks full of cloaks and a rack of boots. To the eagle-eyed, it wasn't just Ignan's coats, Mira's were amongst them, and although it wasn't visible from where they sat, there was one of Johann's buried beneath one of Ignan's cloaks. The other side of the low coffee table Ignan sat in his preferred armchair in shirt and trousers, as the weather wasn't bad in the West Country that day - but a little breezy to sit out. Although it was clear Gerda had cleaned up, there was still a stack of journals and books sat on the floor on Ignan's right.

Mira had no idea Sasha was about, Ignan still hadn't come clean about having any children, not that the two of them had even reached considering it to be like that. She was on shift at St Mungo's until at least the evening. In return, Ignan was banking that Sasha hadn't heard about his new relationship, it had joined the list of awkward conversation topics.

"You appears to have been having quite the summer," Ignan remarked, "Sorry it wasn't possible to let you visit before you went to Asia." He gestured to the plate of cakes between them. "Do have one, Gerda baked them, so they're edible."

"Impaled?"  Sasha's nose wrinkled in an expression that wavered, briefly, between horror, confusion and distaste.  "What end did..."  His voice trailed off as he came to the conclusion he probably didn't want to know what part of the Hippogriff's body was responsible for the impalement. 

Sasha was quite confident he didn't feel the need to meet this ghost.  He could understand (sort of) and respect (again, sort of) an individual's desire to remain in this world but he was familiar with how easily recognizable the Hogwarts ghosts' cause of death were.  Even ghosted, the after effects of very-large-raptor/equine impalement had to be unsettling to look at.  From what he understood, ghosts didn't usually have an opportunity to change clothing between cause of death and death.  "That seems very unfortunate."

He shivered and shook his head, picking up the cup of tea to hold it between his hands.

The Ravenclaw nodded in acknowledgement of the cakes and offered a polite Thank You, but kept his fingers wrapped around the teacup.  Offering sweets must be a part of Hogwarts staff training or something.  They all seemed to do it, with Headmistress McGonagall being one of the worst.  She'd almost taken to ordering Sasha to eat biscuits the last time he'd been in her office.  All those empty calories.  "I've got one more week to rack up competition points before disappearing to Hogwarts.  Wouldn't want to lose points because of an extra stone." 

"No, sir, I understand," Sasha offered, dismissing Professor Storm's apology.  "To be honest, it has been one of the quieter and more relaxing summers I can remember.  Asia aside.  Spent most of it back home in Germany, visiting my grandmother and just ... not doing much.  It was kind of weird."  Not so weird that he'd actively tried to change it.  "But nice to get away from it all.  You know?"

He suspected Professor Storm did, especially given the current evidence.  He glanced up at the vaulted ceiling overhead and grinned.  "So, you went with a school?  Was that on purpose?  I'd assume at the end of the school year, the last place you'd want to be is another school."

"… nice to get away from it all. You know?" Ignan nodded, appreciative of how a summer to oneself was all that was required after being forced to spend months in close quarters with hundreds of people. It had been his plan for summer to - with just the house elf for company. However, he felt it inappropriate to even mention Mira's presence here at that time, especially as he had not mentioned any ties with Sasha to her in return.

"So, you went with a school? Was that on purpose? I'd assume at the end of the school year, the last place you'd want to be is another school." The older wizard gave a slight heh of amusement to that observation.

"I did think that at the time I came to see it, yes. It seems I cannot escape it one way or the other - quite in the way I came into teaching late in my years." He shrugged a little and sat back, following Sasha's gaze upwards a moment.
"Was near considering not setting up in the country at all. Blowing a gale when we came to view - brought along our family's moonlighting estate agent…" He glanced to Sasha, familiar with the story of how Sasha and Johann had first met, but not aware of the finer details of the deception, "But well, one can drive the price down when the ghost is trying to put off potential buyers, and the place needed work. This is a great improvement from the start of the year." He gestured around them, and then reached for his cup of tea again.

"How are things with your own estate?" He asked, "Still looking to sell it on, as you were considering at Christmas?" He recalled a strange conversation about legal ages on Tapendra's back doorstep.

"I did think that at the time I came to see it, yes. It seems I cannot escape it one way or the other - quite in the way I came into teaching late in my years.”

Sasha opened his mouth to speak, as if to speak, before closing it, again.  Even with Professor Trishna, it had taken several months for Sasha to open himself up to dynamics that were more casual than traditional student-teacher roles.  He suspected Professor Storm would not have extended an invitation to visit if he’d wanted to maintain professional distance, but Sasha did not want to risk inadvertently offending Professor Storm by being too presumptive. 

“It’s nice that it has history,” Sasha admitted.  Especially in the muggle world, there was an overabundance of nice, clean and story-less buildings.  Ghosts aside, older buildings had the benefit of character.  “Do you ever catch him trying to teach?”

"This is a great improvement from the start of the year.”

Sasha’s gaze followed Professor Storm’s gesture around the room and, slowly, his brow furrowed in thought.  “When did you have time for home improvements?”  Sasha asked, his voice wavering between dubious and impressed.  “I mean, between teaching and, you know, trying to keep kids from killing themselves, when did you even find time?”  Not that Sasha could point fingers when it came to fitting too much in a day.  “And, I mean no offense, but I wouldn’t have guessed you for the home decor type.” 

Sasha gave a slight shrug.  “Our- My lawyers are drafting everything up to sell the place.  Once I turn 18, they’ll be ready to go with it.  The closer we get, though, the more I’m not sure.  I don’t think I could actually live there again.  I’m sure that sounds stupid or weak, but waking up in that empty house is horrible.  I just really don’t like the idea of someone else living there.  I don’t want to think of strangers having Sunday tea and watching movies like it’s no big deal.” 

Again, his shoulders hitched up in a shrug.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sure that was more information than you wanted.” 

"I'm sorry. I'm sure that was more information than you wanted."

For half a second, Ignan paused, not quite sure what to reply to that comment with. His face attempted to form a sort of gentle smile, though it wasn't very accustomed to it. Either way the disclosure didn't make him feel uncomfortable. It had just come at a slight surprise, as the two of them were never quite sure how to tackle conversation in private since last October. Should the boundaries stay, should it blur?

"It's not weak." He managed to confirm, though his gaze was off-centre as he spoke. "What happened there was a significant event in your recent history, and the years before that, hold many memories." He raised his cup of tea to his lips and drank, looking thoughtful.

"I would sell it, if I were in your position. No question." He looked directly to Sasha again and nodded once.

He put aside his cup a moment and folded one hand over the other, sitting back in his armchair.
"Where would you move to, given you've the whole world to consider once you sell?"

For a moment, habit kicked in and Sasha eyed Professor Storm cautiously for any indication the man was being sarcastic.  Or feigning agreement to lure Sasha into into committing fully to whatever mistake he might have made.  It was a tactic his step-father had used on more than one occasion and Sasha had learned to watch for any potential falling hammers. 

As far as Sasha could tell, there was no obvious pending hammer.  And, he’d seen Professor Storm lay traps for classmates who’d submitted late or incomplete assignments.  Even in full spider-net trap mode, he couldn’t remember a smile, fake or otherwise, being part of the routine. 

The Ravenclaw nodded and shrugged.  Despite the hesitation, he knew selling the house was probably the right choice.  “I imagine it’ll be a lot like studying for exams.  Or, pulling off a bandage.  The lead up and anticipation is always worse then the actual exam.  And, a relief when it’s over.” 

“I don’t know,” Sasha admitted.  “Depends on where I go to school, I suppose.  Gerhard always intended me to go back to Germany.  He didn’t want us to be stuck here.  But, I don’t really have any connections there anymore, and I can't really see myself moving back full time.  I've thought about just starting fresh and going to Canada or, even, the US.  But, I don’t know how much of that would be running away.”  He took a sip of his tea and wrapped fingers around the warm teacup. 

"Running away doesn't usually involve buying property," Ignan replied, raising his eyebrows. "Quite the opposite." His eyes lightly glanced around the living room. The house in Godric's Hollow was Ignan's commitment to staying in Britain for the foreseeable future. Anyone he half cared about was here, and the tiny few hew did care about were particularly here.

"Much as property is a good investment, you could always do as many have done before you, and use some to fund your way around the world. Much more fun when you're your age." He reached forward and retrieved one of Gerda's cakes, unable to resist.

"But that could be perceived as running away, if perception preoccupies you."

"Running away doesn't usually involve buying property.”

Sasha grinned and chuckled, shaking his head.  “Shows how little you know of my family’s history.  That’s the very reason we’re even in Britain.”  The Ravenclaw lifted the teacup and cradled it in his hands, enjoying the warmth as it seeped into his hands. 

“I had considered asking Johann if he had connections through the DoIMC,” Sasha admitted.  “People I could do internships with in other Ministries or consulates or … whatever magical offices they have elsewhere.  It would mean putting off returning to school by a year - and I’m already going to be a year behind my contemporaries.  I’m already looking at another six years or more.”  Though, again, if one considered long-term goals, “it never hurts to build connections, though.” 

That didn’t negate the need of someplace to live.  Or to keep stuff.  “Do you mean, just … let a flat?  It seems so pedestrian.” 

"Shows how little you know of my family's history…" Sasha responded, and Ignan tried not to show any reaction to the correction. It was true he knew very little of the family Sasha had grown up in, so he couldn't comment, unless to generalise like that.

"It never hurts to build connections, though."
"No, never does. Monopolise his." Ignan advised.

"Do you mean, just… let a flat? It seems so pedestrian."

"No, I more meant to fund the travel. It can be very liberating and informative to go about the world with only what you can carry as your worldly belongings. If you like a place, then by all means rent a flat and stay a while." Ignan elaborated. "All the opportunities, but make sure you do choose one and don't stay put."

He leaned forward to tend to the teapot, rather than wait for Gerda.
"But there are NEWTs to sit before then." He added, with an edge to his voice that if Sasha considered leaving Hogwarts before those were done, he might well have something to say to his biological son. Storms were many things, but they all finished their education. Whatever the horrific results.

End