Alex had received the summons to Professor Trisna's office with surprise. The only two reasons she could think of for her summons were either trouble or praise, and as she hadn't done anything especially praise- worthy since the start of the year, she was probably in trouble- although she wasn't sure what for. She had been talking in class, true, but that was hardly a summoning offence, so what had she done wrong?

She blew out an exasperated sigh, wishing that at least she knew what she had done. It was so much easier to think up plausible excuses and alibis when you had a reasonable stretch of time in which to do so. Although making it up on the spot required a level of skill that calculating in advance did not, Alex considered that she had sufficient skill to be able to think of something. And if all else failed, she could just stare at her shoes and look contrite, although that was, of course, a last resort.

Pausing outside the door, she rapped on the door twice, hoping that, whatever it was that she had done, it wasn't too serious. But then again, she would know if it was, surely. One could hardly sneak out of bed after hours or attempt to blow up the potions classroom without noticing- and, although she had been planning on doing the first, she hadn't put her plans into action yet. And, depending on the results of this meeting, maybe she would have to delay them, as, irritating as it may be to obey the rules, she had no desire to incur serious punishment.

So maybe she had done something else? But what? Deciding that procrastination was useless, and that she would find out soon enough, she pushed the door open. "Sir?" she said, "You wanted to see me?"

The heavy thud of a book hitting the floor answered Alexandra's call. The office was clearly being unpacked, and was an utter disaster; paper was everywhere, boxes strewn around and their contents on the floor around them. Books, open and shut, covered everything else.

After a moment Tapendra's head appeared, and he sat up from behind his desk, where he'd been repairing a drawer. "Miss Carstairs?" He asked, clearly confused; then he looked at the watch around his wrist and flushed red, scrambling to his feet.

He was, as usual, barefoot; his teaching attire gone in favor of a white button-down and a pair of jeans. This casual appearance - though much better than, say, a t-shirt with a slogan on it -  was not aided by the dust on his knees and shirt. He was patting himself down, trying to get it off, and finally he grabbed his wand from the desk and magicked most of it off.

A small stack of letters took this moment to slide off his desk. He sighed and glared at it for a fleeting moment before he looked to Alexandra, face red with embarrassment.

"I'm terribly sorry, I lost track of time," he explained in an awkward sort of mumble, running a hand through his hair and trying to remember what he'd wanted to talk to her about. He remember after a few moments and cleared his throat. "Um - go ahead and have a seat," he said, waving to the couch, which had a place to sit among piles of paper and boxes - and what appeared to be a pile of large garment bags. This single open spot was currently occupied by Tapendra's Kneazle, Kepler.

"Just - just shove him off," the professor said, waving at the cat. "You're, ah, not in trouble, I should add, just..."

He pointed his wand at the letters, which started to swirl and reform into a neat stack. "The reason I wanted to talk to you was to ask why you chose to drop Muggle Studies," he explained, in a more confident tone.

Alex, having observed the disarray of the office and Professor Trishna's informal clothes- which was just a little disconcerting- scooped the kneazle up, sitting down and placing him on her lap. Relaxing at the reassurance that she wasn't in trouble, she began to stroke the cat gently.

"The reason I wanted to talk to you was to ask why you chose to drop Muggle Studies."

She looked up at her head of house, freezing momentarily, before swallowing as imperceptibly as she could. The idea of telling him the truth was immediately squashed, her mind searching for other possibilities. Normally so efficient, her mind went blank, unable to think of anything except the argument that had lead to this conversation.

Only her Father had ever had that effect on her, to discover that others were capable of inducing it as well was only just short of terrifying.

She shrugged, stalling for time, "I just thought that I wouldn't be able to cope with the workload," she said eventually, the lie sounding false even to her own ears. "And as I won't need muggle studies, I decided that I should drop that." She looked down at the cat, and was slightly surprised to see that her hands had balled into fists. Stretching her fingers out, she began to stroke again, waiting to hear what her teacher would say. Hoping that he wouldn't pick up on the lie.

Tapendra hadn't quite been expecting the sort of reaction he got - usually students got defensive, or listed off a long and rambling set of excuses. Carstair's reasons were perfectly sound. Tapendra hadn't spent fruitless hours trying to get Sasha to lighten his class load only to turn up his nose at someone doing the same thing, after all.

He leaned on his desk, loosely crossing his arms and stroking his beard, watching her as she spoke. There was just enough shiftiness that he quirked an eyebrow; he got the feeling he wasn't getting the whole story.

"You haven't had an issue with workloads before," he said carefully, smiling reassuringly. "Do you have a schedule conflict - a club, or team? I'm sure we can work something out, if you'd like to keep going in the subject...?"

Alex stared at her fingers, wishing that her teacher wasn't being so, well, reasonable about everything. Or asking such difficult questions. "I- I know, sir," she said, her gaze locked on her hands, "I- I  just thought that with everything going on this year, and NEWTs being so- so hard and all."

Alex paused, realising that she was both stuttering and loosing her ability to form plausible lies. Not to mention starting to use the most awful colloquialisms. She could feel the nerves, she always could when she was confronted, but usually they were manageable, a buzz that made the entire experience that much more satisfying. Now, they were taking over, scattering her thoughts.

She looked up again, remembering that you were more likely to be believed if you kept eye contact. "My Father- "she froze again, furious with herself. Why had she mentioned him? Stupid, stupid, stupid. But stopping now would be worse than going on. "My Father and I had a discussion and he- we- decided that it would be best if I focused on my other subjects."

The girl was clearly nervous. Tapendra tried not to let his confusion show, and mostly succeeded; students dropping subjects was relatively routine, and her reason had been perfectly, well, reasonable. It seemed his instinct that something wasn't quite right might just have been right on the mark...

Still, he let her talk, clasping his hands together in front of him. His smile remained, even if her hesitation dimmed it somewhat, and he did his best to project an aura of calm reasonableness.

"I see," he said, when she'd fallen silent. "Does your father not approve of the subject?" He asked, carefully. It wasn't entirely unusual - though he wished it was unusual - for parents to want their children out of subjects they didn't like. Likewise it wasn't unusual for parents to be disapproving of Muggle Studies.

He really wished that subject was more obviously useful, but he couldn't do much about it at the moment...

Of course my Father doesn't approve of muggle studies, he's a purist, was Alex's first thought. Not one she was planning on voicing, for certain. Could she admit that her Father was a purist? It wasn't illegal, provided you didn't act on it, and although most people didn't agree with it, because they weren't arrogant fools, you weren't allowed to imprison anyone for disagreeing with you.

Still, she didn't want to say that he was. Only a few people knew about her Father's opinions, he would be livid if she told someone else. And he didn't think of Professor Trishna highly because he liked muggles, not that he had said so explicitly, but if she waited for her Father to actually tell her something she would never do anything. No, telling Professor Trishna was a bad idea.

Alex was finding it hard to keep looking at Professor Trishna, her gaze continually returning to her hands, but she forced herself to look at him when she told her next lie.

"N-no. He doesn't object to it." Always stick with your first story. "He- he doesn't want me to fail because I- because I have too much work," which could be true. No, she didn't believe that even in her head. Her Father had never shown interest in her grades except to voice disapproval when she picked up muggle studies. And now, of course.

"Hmm." It was an inquisitive sound; not a negative tone, exactly, but Tapendra was clearly considering her words carefully. His fingers found his beard, and he eyed her thoughtfully as he absently played with the red hair on his chin, bright blue eyes watching from over his glasses.

"I see," he said, after a pause. "That makes sense," he added, after a moment. Many student's parents took an active interest in their children's school schedules, after all, and telling someone to drop a useless subject wasn't out of line - he'd recommended Sasha drop the subject in question, after all.

Still, her hesitation and clear...upset? Was a flag that something was up.

"Do you agree with his assessment?" He asked, after the pause had stretched into a silence. "Are you concerned about having too much on your plate?"

Alex sat still, her hands clasped firmly in her lap to prevent them from tapping the desk, pulling her hair, anything that would betray her nervousness. Her face was carefully blank, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to look calm.

She looked at her hands, seeming to see through them, as she considered her next answer. Well, she was doing a lot of work, but truth be told, she didn't mind. School was interesting, and she didn't have to take anything that she didn't want to, so where would the problem lie? If she did have too much work to do, she would just drop a subject. Deciding that not lying would, for now, be the best course of action, she looked up again.

"N- no, sir," she admitted reluctantly. "I seem to be doing fine so far. But it is the start of the year, and we've only just settled down again, so, I suppose…" she broke off, staring intently at her lap.

He watched her again, considering his next words carefully. Technically what he wanted to say was the truth - students at Hogwarts were under no actual obligation to follow their parents' orders when it came to their schooling. While most did, it wasn't entirely unknown for kids not to take their parents' advice. Heck, he'd done it, not that his mother had paid any attention to what he was doing til he started going on about muggles and interconnecting webs.

"You don't have to do as he says, you know," he said, gently. "If you're enjoying the course and you wish to continue, then the school has no issue allowing you to do so."

Of course, the school's reaction was hardly the problem with these issues, from both his personal and profession experience. It was her father's reaction that'd be the issue, especially for her - and Tapendra wasn't sure if he wanted to encourage her to go against her parents.

"Do you want to continue to take Muggle Studies?"

Alex looked at Professor Trishna, a mixture of incredulity, bitterness, and amusement fighting to play across her face. Did he really think that she had a choice in this? That was laughable, to say the least. Not once, in her entire life, had Alex ever gone unpunished for misbehaviour by her Father. It was one of the reasons she didn't mind the punishments handed out at Hogwarts- who cared about an hour of time and a few points?

Yes, technically she could disobey her Father, but she had no intention of doing so. The consequences would be far worse than any benefits, as they always were when she disobeyed her Father. If that wasn't the case, she would still be taking muggle studies.

"No," Alex said quietly. Another lie, but what did it matter? There was no point. Saying yes would only convince Professor Trishna that thete was a problem, which would lead to unwanted interest. Her Father had won, she wouldn't take the subject. Anything beyond that was redundant, like trying to fight a battle after the war was over. Her Father always won.

Tapendra frowned slightly at her expression, but it told him more than her quiet dismissals were. Well, sort of; what it told him was that she wasn't going to talk about it willingly. And it didn't do to force students who didn't want to talk about their problems - they'd either open up under gentle questioning or not at all.

That didn't mean it didn't frustrate him, of course; things like this hit him with the desire to solve the problem. That instinct more often than not just got him in trouble, but it was still a hard one to set aside sometimes.

He nodded, though. "Alright then, Miss Carstairs," he said, circling around to sit at his desk again, hands cupped together in front of him. "If you have any questions - or change your mind later - just let me know." He smiled warmly.

A smile flickered briefly across Alex's face, the intended representative of gratitude fleeting, and she inclined her head slightly. "Of course, Professor," she replied, standing up. Tucking a strand of hair behind one ear, she nodded, "Thank you for your concern, sir," the words meaningless, a formality. At least she'd managed not to sound sarcastic, which would have been too obvious a statement of her attitude, as though her monosyllabic answers and stuttering hadn't.

Turning, she walked across to the door of the office, although the disarray made it seem more like a study, opening it and turning to give Professor Trishna a more lasting, if small, smile, "Have a nice evening, Sir." Shutting the door quietly behind her, Alex plodded down the stairs, walking back to the Ravenclaw Dormitories completely oblivious of her surroundings, focusing heavily on not thinking about the conversation she'd just had with her head of House.

Doubts swirled endlessly, and she found herself wondering if she should have continued Muggle Studies. Only fatigue could have lead to such a thought, and she reminded herself that Muggle Studies was useless in terms of her future, and that she would regret it more if she took it. Not to mention her workload already being stressful enough, she had an essay due in tomorrow that she'd barely started. No, she had made her choice, and there was no point regretting it.