It was starting to seem like nobility was oddly synonymous with suicidal.  As Sasha had explained to both Johann and Professor Trishna, if it was really that important to him to know the results of the genealogy test than he should be the one asking for it.  This was his quest and his challenge; he couldn't send anyone else in to face the dragon on his behalf.  If anyone was going to get scorched and smote on account of this, it was only right it was him. 

Of course, he hadn't explained it in quite those terms to Johann and Professor Trishna.   That just happened to be the image that was creeping into Sasha's head when Professor Storm called through his office door at the sound of Sasha's knock.  Sasha gave the two men a somber nod, and let himself into the office. 

As far as Sasha was aware, Professor Storm didn't have a clue what was up.  He didn't know both Johann and Professor Trishna were lurking just beyond the office door as reinforcements.  Though, he was bound to be suspicious by now.  Sasha had been feeling slightly awkward since that first test had revealed some level of relationship to Johann Storm but the awkwardness had only intensified after Johann reported his test with Jacoba had revealed no relation.  Sasha was certain Professor Storm knew he was withholding information every time the man looked at him.  But, after several weeks of thorough, owl-based evaluations of the situation between Sasha and Johann, Sasha had come to conclusion he needed to know for sure. 

More importantly, he couldn't keep sitting there wondering, trying to guess while Professor Storm was completely oblivious. 

"Herr Storm?"  Sasha had already decided approaching the conversation in German was probably wise.  Between the ghosts, Peeves and portraits, there were far too many eavesdroppers for whom locked doors were no hindrance.  Speaking in German would help further limit the chances of being overheard.  It was a shame Professor Storm wasn't from Bavaria - speaking Bavarian dialect would effectively rule out any stray German speaking specters as well.

Anxiously, awkwardly, Sasha's hands smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles in his shirt and straightened his already straight tie.  "I ... can I have moment of your time?" Sasha continued, in German.  Sasha had to admit, he wouldn't be terribly disappointed of Professor Storm briskly said he was quite pressed for time and, despite his previous determination to do this, hesitated to give the man an opportunity to say just that. 

Besides, despite having had weeks to plan this, he still wasn't quite sure what, exactly, he was going to say. 

It was also so much easier to compliment a student four, five months after they had departed from the classroom. Memories of day to day irritations melded into the background and a completed mark book and examination list helped to clarify. His quill scratched thoughtfully over parchment as he wrote about one of his previous Hogwarts students, who had listed him as a reference to their most recent application. Not many dared, fearing he would write horrors about them, but the truth was he just rarely praised in person. It was uncomfortable.

Beside the parchment form he was completing was a letter that totalled several pages. His eyes rested upon it a moment, and he sighed. The recipient would never get to read it. They didn't take post as Azkaban, not that he was going to send it. He had been writing to Azorma ever since a month after her imprisonment. When he had been forced to blow out candles on a cake his family had provided last month on his birthday, his wish had been for her safe escape.

A knock at the door interrupted and he hastily folded the letter, tucking it into an envelope addressed with her name. He called to the person beyond to enter, and was slightly surprised to see Schlagenweit visiting. The Ravenclaw had been lingering as if he was going to ask something after lessons, but had always left before doing so, as if reconsidering his actions.

Further surprising, he spoke in German. This either meant Sasha wished to convey an odd kind of kinship between them over birthplace, or he did not want to be overheard. Neither was particularly pleasing.

"I won't get it back in any way." He responded to the sixth year, in English, sealing the envelope in his hands and placing it back down on the desk top.

"Take a seat." He added in German, deciding it was worth humouring the boy for once. Perhaps he'd leave soon and let him finish the reference.

Sasha flinched, not sure if Professor Storm's cryptic answer was positive or negative.  There was no mistaking the invitation to take a seat and, though Sasha really very much would have preferred to stand, he lowered himself to perch at the edge of his chair. 

His gut had securely tied itself into a knot that would impress the most seasoned of sailors.   The last time he remembered feeling this nervous was when Gerhard had sat him down for their first conversation about Sasha's secret pursuit of a magical education.  At least, this time, Sasha wasn't sitting there in a floor length, flamboyant, raven-feathered wizard robe.  He still missed that robe, even if he'd never admit it. 

Sasha was aware several moments had passed while he sat lost in his own memories and he still hadn't said a word.  He knew he should be saying something and he'd rehearsed it several times over with Baldur or Nagde's horse playing the part of Professor Storm. 

He just needed to start talking.  Testing Professor Storm's patience wasn't going to work in his favor, here. 

"I was ... I'm hoping I can ask a favor.  I know it's a bit ... fairly out of line, but ..."  He shook his head.  He knew Professor Storm disapproved of his habit of cutting sentences off, but the only way to avoid them in the current situation was to keep his sentences short. 

"To summarize, this wizard tried to claim relation for the inheritance and we ran a ... relations test to verify.  And, ran a test kit against someone in the office ... to make sure that batch was working.  It tested a positive relation.  With a sample from Johann.  And, Mr. Wolfgang Storm."  Sasha had deliberately kept it vague.  He was assuming...hoping that if Professor Storm remained oblivious to the exact nature of their curiosity, he might be more accommodating. 

"We're just ... we're trying to figure out where exactly things fit in?  And, you're ... I ..."  Already, he was starting to falter and he quickly blurted out the rest before he had a chance to second guess himself.  "It would help if we could test you." 

Schlagenweit finally spat out what he was trying to ask, and Ignan was surprised.

"Test me?" He asked, voice a little queer. He cleared his throat. "Has Johann put you up to this by chance?"

The Professor's eyes slid to the closed door, wondering what had brought this on, he could have sworn he heard someone outside. Was this what Sasha had been attempting to ask him for some time now? Why had he suddenly plucked up the courage this particular evening?

Why would he need courage? Ignan reasoned a moment, and then his conscious reminded him that he kept students in various states from nervous wreck to suspicious to keep their undivided attention, and Schlagenweit, however much he sandwiched his head in a book and attempted to over achieve, was included in this.

Perhaps there was an ulterior motive? If so, he should attempt to discover. Legilimency? No, too direct, and Schlagenweit was the sort he might be able to trip up without mental effort. The teenager already spoke in tumbling, incomplete sentences.

Explain then. He'd clearly done some background - Johann almost certainly the source. He doubted Sasha had met Wolfgang, one could hardly hold back on remarking about the unpleasant weasel.

"I am not in the same line as Johann and Wolfgang, so it may not do you any good to test. Our common ancestor is my grandfather, Johann's great grandfather."

Ignan studied Sasha even more intently, the lines shadowing on his face as his suspicion deepened.
"What do you hope to discover, exactly?" He enquired in all seriousness.

"Sort of.  But, not directly."  Sasha quickly insisted when Professor Storm asked about Johann's involvement and cast an unsettlingly knowing look towards the door. 

Sasha had no intentions of throwing Johann under the bus ... or, whatever the wizarding equivalent was.  Broom?  No.  Getting thrown under a broom wasn't, exactly, a bad thing.  Carriage?  Nowhere near as bad as a bus.  Perhaps ... Sasha had no intentions of tossing Johann into a den of nifflers with a freshly polished suit of armor. 

"This was my idea," he confirmed, shaking his head.  "I mean, he thought of it.  He presented the possibilities but, just as brainstorming.  Not ... I think he would have been happy leaving well enough alone.  We're ... being here was my idea."

The Ravenclaw cast his own glance towards the door before admitting, awkwardly, "he is here, though."  Was he supposed to confess Professor Trishna was there, too?  After all, Professor Trishna was supposed to be there.  At the school, at least.  Even if not lurking outside the door. 

So far, though, Professor Storm wasn't yelling.  And, Sasha hadn't been hexed back out the door.  He was even, as far as Sasha could tell, expressing interest in the logic of it.  Looking for more information.  Trying to find out what Sasha had already researched. 

The next step seemed obvious: turn in his homework and defend his thesis.  That, he could do.

"Well, we know it's not through my mother," Sasha confirmed, shifting to tug his 'homework' out from his pocket, in the form of the haphazard potential family tree[1] he and Johann had compiled.  "He, you know, tested himself against my sister.  There was no relation, so there's no connection through my mother's side." 

Sasha unfolded the tree and his gaze traced the now familiar lines.  Looking at the page, rather than Professor Storm, made continuing much easier.  "My father's side is a complete mystery.  All I know is the test showed I'm second cousins with Johann and first cousins with Mr. Wolfgang Storm.  If ... like with Johanna and Johann ... it shows no relation, then ... I'll know if my father's family is somewhere down their maternal line." 

He shrugged, chancing a glance up at the professor.  "That's all I'm wanting to discover.  If there's ... If I actually do have family out there I can find."  It wasn't actually a lie.  Just, an incomplete truth.

1.	The tree - presumably, it has been added on to and a few other tentative possibilities sketched out but the underlying idea is still quite obvious

"Well, we know it's not through my mother, he, you know, tested himself against my sister.  There was no relation, so there's no connection through my mother's side."

Did he now? How long had Johann been helping Sasha with this, without mentioning it to him? He could have warned him Sasha would turn up on his doorstep claiming to be a relation. Worse still, he was outside.   

"My father's side is a complete mystery.  All I know is the test showed I'm second cousins with Johann and first cousins with Mr. Wolfgang Storm.  If ... like with Johanna and Johann ... it shows no relation, then ... I'll know if my father's family is somewhere down their maternal line."

What? The Professor's mind was rapidly adding up the possibilities. Was Schlagenweit implying Ignan had a possibility of being found to be related rather more closely to Sasha? His stomach suddenly seemed unable to digest, and boiled.   

"That's all I'm wanting to discover.  If there's ... If I actually do have family out there I can find."

"I see." Professor Storm heard himself say. "Might I see this tree you're considering?" He raised a hand to take the parchment and recognised Johann's handwriting for the Storm family tree. Sasha did indeed seem to be suggesting Ignan's generation on his line could be a possibility for Sasha's unknown father.

He lifted his quill and added the missing upper generation that tied Merik, Ignan's father, to Medgar, Ignan's uncle. His wife, Imelda had been Hueber before marriage.

"There, the net widens if you consider you could also be a Hueber relation. I confess not to know too much detail about my grandmother." The Professor extended the parchment back to Sasha and sighed, looking at the boy intently, studying his features. They looked nothing alike, nothing.

"What does one need to do to test?" He eventually asked, hoping to Merlin it would prove they were no relation, as he'd have a lot of trouble explaining anything else.

So far, it had been the trend of everyone involved with this whole affair to assume that the most obvious answer was the least likely.  But, Professor Storm was no idiot.  Sasha could already see him putting the pieces of the puzzle together and noticeably tensed when Professor Storm reached for the family diagram, bracing himself for whatever reaction that might bring. 

"I ... it's ... I'm sorry," he quickly offered as the man opposite him studied the map.  "It's not...I know it's unlikely.  I know at that time you were-"  No.  Abort.  Sasha quickly reined that train of thought in and turned his attention to the lines that Professor Storm started adding to the tree. 

"I know there are other explanations.  It's just - knowing for sure would help me know which direction to go."

With just a few scratches of a quill, the mystery had widened and the pool of possibilities had deepened.  In some ways, it was a relief.  Those added details only further decreased the likelihood the man across from him was related to him.  Once this whole thing was cleared up, there would be a whole new path to follow and things could go back to normal. 

But, it was also a disappointment.  If the potion did, indeed, turn an inky black then Sasha would, again, be no closer to knowing the identity of his father.  And, if Professor Storm didn't know much about his grandmother and Johann hadn't even supplied her  for the tree and that was where the connection lay then Sasha's chances of finding his father were as slim as before this whole thing started. 

Sasha stared at Professor Storm a moment when the man asked about the test, still half expecting the other shoe to drop at any moment.  But, the man's interest appeared outwardly genuine and Sasha didn't hesitate to seize the opportunity.

"It's fairly simple," he assured, opening his bag and pulling out the test kit.  "There's a potion medium in the flask.  We add a drop of my blood and then a drop of yours and see what color the potion changes.  The color tells us if there is a relation and, if so, what type.  It just takes a few moments."  He opened the kit and set the flask on the table.

Ignan was vaguely familiar with the method, and motioned for Sasha to set it out, gathering his paperwork to one side out of the way.

He sat back in his chair and contemplated, eyes focusing just beyond where Sasha placed out the dishes and measured the potion. Of all things that he had expected this evening, this had not been one of them. He now faced two possibilities - Sasha would discover the link was not a branch from him directly, or he would discover that by some incredible coincidence, he was more directly related.

Catching sight of his letter to Azorma poking out from the pile of papers, he felt his stomach clench. He loved her unconditionally, and it had been accepted they both had pasts. She had Tapendra, and had been married to Prideaux. He'd never been married, never tied down. Reluctance, and a horrible suspicion what he most loved would leave him, unable to return if he insisted on chaining it.

No, he was worrying about theoretical consequences of a situation not about to occur. Plenty of wizarding families were related.

The potion set, Sasha was ready to put a drop of his blood before his into the potion. Then, if Ignan recalled, there was a process of warming and adding the parchment. It would be over in moments and he'd be able to send Sasha back to Johann to explore whatever genealogy they required.

Placing his wandtip to his finger he dropped his own after Sasha in silence, and then returned to his seat, sitting back and observing. His gaze again unfocused as he considered.

"What result are you hoping to discover?" He interrupted Sasha out of sheer curiosity, staring intently at the Ravenclaw, moments before the parchment would drop in and declare blood ties.

The man opposite him was sitting in near complete silence.  His expression was stoney and impassive; there was no hint of what the man was thinking. 

Watching the professor felt like what Sasha imagined bomb squad technicians felt as they watched an explosive device from the described safe distance that they were thoroughly convinced should have detonated by now.  The longer you sat, waiting and watching it do nothing the more anxious you were to go see what went wrong.  At the same time, you were convinced the thing would detonate the moment you moved into range.

But, there still was no explosion.  The Ravenclaw had, finally, tentatively, reached a hand over the table to let his blood fall into the dish. 

Sasha flinched when the man opposite drew his wand and reflexively shut his eyes.  He opened them, again, at the sound of the man's question and glanced down at the new blood droplets slowly swirling and dissipating into the potion. 

For such a seemingly simple question, the possible answers held some revealing, daunting implications.  Especially if the results came up contrary to whatever hope he voiced.  "I'm not sure, sir," he admitted - a vague, safe and partially truthful answer.  "I just want to know if I have other family out there.  I know it'd be simpler if it turned black and that's probably what you're, you know, hoping for." 

With a seemingly anti-climatic flutter, the slip of parchment landed on the surface of the potion.  The corners took up the potion first, the milky, blood-tinted stain seeping through the fabric until it soaked the entire strip. 

That's probably what you're hoping for.

Ignan looked up in surprise at Sasha's remark. Yes, he was quite right, Ignan did not need to discover that he was a father or close relation of any sort to a student this year. But, he wouldn't resent it entirely should something occur, he imagined.

Between them, the colour flooded through the parchment from the blood, and both of them stared intently. Ignan forgot to breathe as he inclined forward to see better as the colour changed.

Orange.

The look on Sasha's face was enough to confirm that this result was of particular significance. It clearly did not indicate they were of no relation at all but rather the opposite.

The instructions for the potion were beside the box, and gleefully and officially declared the colours to the relations. Numbly, Ignan snatched the instructions, getting to his feet and stepping towards the window in his office while reading them. The words seemed to bounce off the page past direct relation - parent or child.

A mistake, Schlagenweit had clearly not followed instructions. Turning back to the desk he roughly repeated the steps.
"Your hand." He hardly asked before attempting to seize Sasha's wrist.

Johann inclined his head to the office door, trying to hear what was being said within. He couldn't make out much, apart from the odd word or the noise of talking. He couldn't press his ear too firmly to the door - the sight of Professor Trishna stood outside Professor Storm's office with a tall, dark curly haired stranger with his ear pressed to the door.

He could make out that the two of them were speaking German, seemingly instigated by Sasha. Appealing to Ignan on cultural terms, or trying to prevent them understanding? It wasn't certain, but Johann felt that the choice was to try and prove a common link. Sasha was increasingly convinced Ignan did have something to do with his parentage. The worry was that Ignan did not want to have anything to do with it, and this was an invasion of his privacy.

"Its gone very quiet." Johann uttered to Tapendra in English as subtly as he could. He frowned and tried to listen more closely, his fingertips resting on the wood of the door and his ear almost entirely against the panel.

The scrape of a chair,
"Your hand." He heard Ignan's voice suddenly and clearly, still in German, and picked up an odd tone - was that irritation, or shock, or disbelief, or what? It was hard to tell through the door.

Lifting his head slightly he explained to Tapendra,
"Ignan's just asked Sasha for his hand, they're either getting married or he's agreed to test."

The slip of bright orange parchment wasn't exactly a surprise.  More, a confirmation of what everyone seemed to assume was the least likely possibility.  But, Sasha stared at the bright little slip, his lips pressed into thin lines.

Even while staring at the parchment, Sasha could see Professor Storm quickly snatch up the instructions and move off across the room with them.  Finally, after several moments, Sasha looked up and over at the professor, watching him as he read over he pamphlet. 

It was strange.  Eight years of mystery were drawing to an end.  Sasha had been telling the truth; he'd been so focused on the act of getting the results that he hadn't given much thought to the results themselves. Perhaps intentionally, he didn't really have any idea of what to expect.  And, despite all his various etiquette lessons, he had no idea what was appropriate in these circumstances. 

"I'm sorry, sir," Sasha offered, going for the standard default when Professor Storm turned back towards the desk.  "I ... it was done right."  By now, he was pretty familiar with the procedure.  Even so, he allowed the man to take his hand and draw a drop of blood to join his in the dish.  Just as before, in a few moments, the slip turned the same brilliant shade of orange as it floated on the top of the potion. 

The Ravenclaw held his hand out to Professor Storm, just in case the man was hoping a third attempt would offer a different result. 

"Look," he offered, shaking his head.  Not that he really knew what he was supposed to say.  "I'm sorry.  I ... thank you.  I can ... if you'd prefer I go, I can.  Or ... I ... I'm sorry."  Sasha didn't know what the man would be expecting.  "I don't ... I don't really know what's expected here."

"And you think I do?" Ignan asked loudly, and then turned away again, trying to work out how he might react.

"Merlin." He uttered under his breath and stared out of the window without seeing, trying to clear his mind. In a matter of moments Sasha had completely thrown the evening out of sorts. The test was consistent, that was one thing, but it could still be falsified, the potion could be wrong.

Rubbing his face with both hands, and feeling old, he looked round slightly to the student.
"You're quite sure this potion is correct?" He exhaled, shoulders drooping. "Of course. Short of asking Juliette, though the last thing one wants right now is to drag another into this." The Professor frowned at the prospect.

He settled back down in his chair, feeling a little unsteady as his head swirled and tried to work out what had just happened.
"Where did you get this potion?" He asked Sasha critically, gesturing to the polished wood box the set had been unpacked from. The orange slips of parchment spun lazily in the haze of the potion upon the desk.
"If Johann has put you up to this, then I shall deal with him, Schlagenweit. I fear there has been a dreadful mistake here." He gestured to the box.

Sasha's cheeks flushed when Professor Storm raised his voice and his gaze dropped back down to the potion still shimmering in the dish.  But, rather uncharacteristically, he did not apologize again. 

Professor Storm had every right to be frustrated.  Though Sasha had been no more sure about the results than the Defense professor until a few moments before, at least he'd had some forewarning.  He'd had weeks...months to, at least, acknowledge that this was possibility.  Unfortunately, there'd been no way to subtly warn the man standing by the window so the man had, undoubtedly, been completely blind sighted. 

The Ravenclaw nodded, at first wordlessly confirming that the potion had been correct.  It wasn't until Professor Storm started rattling off a variety of possibilities and directly accusing Johann of foul play that Sasha spoke up, again. 

"Why would he - or either of us - intentionally falsify this?" he asked in Johann's defense, gesturing towards the potion and finally looking back towards the professor.  "You think I would have gone along with this if it was just some trick?  Do you think this was easy?"  It wasn't like Sasha was looking for more complications and, while he'd heard the rumors of Johann's reputation - and he'd seen plenty of evidence of the man's more ... mischievous side - Johann had earned Sasha's trust and loyalty. 

"It's not a mistake," Sasha insisted, briefly surprised by his own forwardness.  "It's from the Ministry's own stock.  It's official and reliable enough for them to use it to verify legal rights of claim to estates.  Johann checked his blood against Wolfgang Storm's and my sister's.  It's ... that's ... I'm your son." 

Sasha let out a long, slow sigh.  After a moment, he shrugged slightly and offered, quietly, "but, if you really want to doubt it, you could always call Johann in here and test yourself against him.  Or, Professor Trishna.  Or, if you prefer, we could pretend the results came out different."  Sasha still wasn't sure how to digest the results but, even still, he knew the last recommendation had been a polite formality and little more.  It only seemed appropriate to offer though it didn't take a genus to recognize it wasn't his preferred choice.

"Stop talking like an absolute idiot, Schlagenweit!" Ignan snapped, glowering at him like an angry cat from the other side of the desk. "This is exactly the result you did want to find, is it not?" The question was rhetorical. "I daresay you almost implied it moments before!" What with the abandoned sentence about location.

"If you were expecting some warm family welcome, you are mistaken."

The feeling inside the office had become particularly volatile now. Ignan wasn't about to deny any of the results as Sasha had suggested as if to guilt trip him, but he had not wanted such a revelation thrust upon him at that moment. Especially not by a student - a stranger would be different, but he had known and witnessed Sasha for months now. The notion he was somehow related - directly related - was absurd - but somehow true.

"You should have not have come here this evening." He told Sasha in English, voice raised. Despite any protests from the younger man, he continued "Get out!"