Class came to an end, the lunch hour was upon them, and Gale was very ready for a bit of light after all the darkness. With a wave of his wand and a whisper of a few words the candles all returned to their shelves, the curtains were drawn back, and the books all lined. However, he himself had not moved.

Standing by the desk of the Schlagenweit child, the boy who suffered, he kept his distance, but waited closely by until Sasha started to leave. Pretending to worry over a few papers, Gale shuffled them in his hands, the age lines around his eyes growing deeper with fatigue, and his stomach protested at the delay. But this was important.

“Mister Schlagenweit.” The boy’s last name rolled from his lips, rich and inviting on a tongue of nations. Had Nightingale’s coloring been right, his hair would be black as night, and skin a rich deep olive color. However, standing before the empty class room now he appeared a wraith of the boy that once was, and the man he would never be.

“May I speak to you a moment? Perhaps we may walk together on our way to the Great Hall?” He extended his hand to show the young man out, and to guide him along the way.

Nightingale’s heart broke thinking of this child, this boy in his Sixth Year, and a Ravenclaw Perfect. But what he didn’t know was that they shared a deep and common love…muggles.

“Tell me, did you enjoy the class?” Gale asked pinning him with his good eye, and the silver sheet caught in the light. It flared with a truth that was as power as any spell, and somehow always brought the reality out of a situation.

With the usual, excited, anticipatory shuffling of papers and books into bags, charms class concluded for the day.  For those students who, like Sasha, also took Defense Against the Dark Arts, a single hour stretched between the classes.  Charms had only been the fourth class of the week but, already, Sasha's assignment list was getting daunting, quickly.  Despite the already impressive pile of work, Sasha did not rise from the seat with the rest of his classmates to hurry to the Great Hall. 

There were some classes that could be counted on to be at least slightly discomforting.  DADA could leave you wondering if worrying about monsters in the closet wasn't just child's play.  Divination's tendency to encourage students to search for inner or even hidden thoughts or personal histories in their classmates or themselves always left Sasha a little uneasy.  But Charms didn't have that effect under normal circumstances.  It was usually where the fun, non-combative spells were taught. 

Today had been a thorough exception. 

He'd waited for the main cluster of students to file through the door, taking a few moments to collect his own thoughts, before carefully placing his books and notes in his own bag.  The Ravenclaw jumped, slightly, when he heard his name and looked up at the professor. 

"Sir?"  Sasha hesitated in his seat, his bag still on his desk before the man's invitation and gesture confirmed this wasn't one of those stay in your seat, I'll dismiss you when I'm done conversations.  He rose to his feet, tugging his tin, muggle backpacking mess kit  from the bottom before slinging his bag over his shoulder. 

The Ravenclaw shifted, uncomfortably, under the man's careful consideration, his own gaze on the shiny surface of the food tin before turning and starting towards the door if only to escape the man's gaze.  Did he enjoy the class?

"I ... of course."  The answer was out of habit more than anything.  It would take more than a discomforting topic to get Sasha to tell a professor he didn't enjoy a class.  "It was just ... I don't know.  Heavier than I'm used to in Charms."  Besides, Kronos had recommended Sasha research the topic of bending people's minds in the restricted section of the library[1].  Of course, that had been in the context of how to deal with Professor Trishna knowing more than he should about Sasha's associations with Malvivicus and Sasha had opted to ignore that particular recommendation for the time being. 

"It just caught me off guard."

1.	If I Wrote You, You Would Know Me

Gale’s heart was a wild drum, of the type that hammered around fires well in woods at midnight and fueled the dances of his people. His was of the sort that could almost be seen beneath the pale coloring of his skin, the illusive way of his flesh as it warmed with every breath. However, when he studied the son of Schlagenweit, he thought of a memory of his own, and it brought his body to chill. The warmth didn’t fade from his smile, but a sense of dread passed over him like a wave to the shore.

“Heavy?” He worried as he watched the boy continue, and explain how it caught him off guard. Of what sort? The memories Sasha shared had been of an equestrian background, and though they shared a deep love of horses. Gale doubted very much that the blue ribbon winning stallions his student spoke of were much comparison to the paint splattered draft horses of his gypsy nation.

Where Church had expressed his fear of his memories by his facial expressions, or his discomfort in the topic by his words. Sasha’s silence had been daunting. The boy seemed to resign inside himself, and keep his thoughts to repressed. And that sort of thing, Gale knew to be the most deadly curse a man could ever cast on himself.

“I’d be interested to hear you thoughts on the whole thing, if you will walk with me?” The self doubt that plagued the professor flared to life with the fear of one of his students suffering as he thought Sasha might, and it took nearly every ounce of his self restrain not to pull the boy against his chest and whisper how sorry he was.

“Sasha,” Gale extended his hand to take the boy’s back, and to offer his hand as well to stand, “Come have lunch with me? By the old oak tree? I hate to eat inside.” In truth he hated the Great Hall, and all those that laughed so carelessly inside it.

A hint of color rose in Sasha's cheeks as Professor Kesali repeated his choice of descriptor.  One of these days, he was going to have to get better at this whole lying thing.  He was good at hiding things - he had considerable experience.  But, he was too honest; he wore his emotions a little too much on his sleeve to actively deceive someone when asked a pointed, direct question.  All too often, his attempts to be vaguely truthful worked against him; today was seeming to be no exception. 

Sasha caught a glimpse of the professor reaching for him as he got to his feet and the reflex was as subconscious and unavoidable as it was familiar.  He flinched and stiffened, his eyes flying shut.  The color on his cheeks deepened as he tried to pass off the movement as an awkward readjustment of his backpack. 

"I..yes, sir," Sasha quickly added, hoping to further distract from the reaction by directing the man's attention to the question he'd posed.  "I usually don't eat in the Great Hall, anyway.  It's a bit too busy; hard to study.  And, you know it's only a matter of time before someone spills their pumpkin juice on your essay."  Sasha barely had enough time for all of his classes; he certainly didn't have time to rewrite essays for stupid reasons like spilled juice.  "I ... just need to meet one of the first years at the stair landing."   

He started down the corridor towards the stairs, the professor next to him.  He took the first few steps in silence, unsure what, exactly, he was supposed to say or where he was supposed to start.  The class had raised so many questions and had touched on so many uncertainties.  And, there was only so much he could say without getting too personal. 

"I don't know, sir.  I just ... seems like such a hypocrisy.  You all make such a big deal about keeping memories at all costs and yet the Ministry modifies the memories of muggles on a regular basis, without much of a second thought."  Heinrich even spoke of memory modification being akin to unforgivables.  And, yet, they'd come very close to doing exactly that to Jacoba. 

Sasha caught a glimpse of the professor reaching for him as he got to his feet and the reflex was as subconscious and unavoidable as it was familiar.  He flinched and stiffened, his eyes flying shut.  The color on his cheeks deepened as he tried to pass off the movement as an awkward readjustment of his backpack. 

And in this his heart broke, and when the boy closed his eyes it was all Gale could do from reaching out to brush them back open again. Beautiful thing that he was, this prince of Ravenclaw, but he had to wonder what force would drive such a shining star into such fear. Making a mental note to ask around, he tucked the train of thought away while folding his own hands submissively behind his back as they walked.

“I think you are very right, and that is very much my point. What gives us the right to change such things like a memory or a man’s mind. I can understand wanting to keep our world a secret, keep it safe. People are afraid of what they do not understand, and I think that history has proven that time and time again. But who are we to say what is right and what is wrong? But…” When the halls opened up and Gale closed the door with a flick of his wand the light spilled over the winter prince in a curious fashion. He didn’t appear so old in the hall, not when standing before a crowd, and on a more familiar road there wasn’t too much he could do to try and hide.

“I want to apologize if I have brought any sort of trouble down on you, or upset you in any way. Mister Schlagenweit, you are a very looked after young man. With a great deal of promise, and I can’t…” He quieted when they passed a few on the stairs, “I can’t help but worry that I have offended you.” Gale waited for Sasha to finish his business, his stomach turning with the pains of hunger that he hadn’t thought existed until scents of the Great Hall carried over the stone. 

“I love the Muggle world too much to ever let it go, but at the same time. Think of how much easier it would be if we were never to be part of it? All the memories that would be preserved. But you see I come from a world Sasha, where fortunes are read on palms not in books, and magic is the world around you. Not the world you create. But the most important lesson I have ever learned, in all my life. Is to not hurry through it, and to build a trust in those that you surround yourself in.” Gale lowered his voice a little further,

“Does it not worry you that you are forgetting that you do not have to grow up right away? And that a lunch with your friends is in fact more valuable than any essay?”

Sasha took a few steps in silence before finally shaking his head.  "I'm not sure I do," Sasha admitted.  The separation of the worlds had always done him more harm than good.  "The Crusades are long over.  So are the witch trials.  Muggle culture has progressed considerably since then; wizarding culture is the one..."  Sasha blinked and caught himself.  He wasn't talking to Professor Trishna.  "I'm sorry, sir.  I didn't mean to speak out of turn." 

There was no first year at the stair landing when Sasha and Professor Kesali reached the end of the hall.  Sasha's brief delay in getting out of class must have been too much for the eleven-year-old's attention span and she must have hurried on her way down to the Great Hall.  But, dutiful as ever, Baldur[1]sat at the corner where the first year had left him, leash draped over his back and tail brushing over the stone floor at the sight of his master. 

Sasha slipped the lead off the dog and draped it over his shoulders, letting the Shepherd trot a few paces ahead of them down the stairs.  The color rose in the Ravenclaw's features again and he shrugged slightly.  Great deal of promise?  "I ... um ... no, sir.  I wasn't offended.  I just ..." 

But, the topic switched back to muggles and Sasha didn't hesitate to take advantage of it.  "I'm sorry, sir.  But, I'm not following," Sasha admitted as he tried to follow the man's train of thought.  "You're muggleborn, then?  But, your parents ... were muggle fortune tellers?"  Sasha immediately pictured those strangely dressed new-agey folks that lingered at card tables in the old squares of Prague and Krakow and Munich. 

Don't hurry through life.  Build trust in someone.  Sasha frowned slightly as he reached the bottom of the stairs but froze in his tracks when he heard the man's last comment. 

“Does it not worry you that you are forgetting that you do not have to grow up right away? And that a lunch with your friends is in fact more valuable than any essay?”

Sasha shifted uneasily, shrugging dismissively.  Of all the things he'd been worrying about, of all the things he'd been fighting to gain some sense of control over, 'not growing up right away' had never even registered.  He shook his head, struggling with what he could even say before resigning himself to the futility of it.  "I don't ... I don't know.  I don't really ... know how to ... I usually just have lunch...and dinner in the Astronomy tower."  And, sometimes breakfast.  Because, at this point, connecting with the Astronomy Professor was infinitely easier than with his classmates as a whole, with a very few exceptions.

1.	Baldur - 7 year old sable Alsatian

“Sasha,” Gale whispered his name, spoke it light enough that it didn’t sound too personal, but more of a way of pleading with the forgotten youth, “You won’t find me arguing too much about how Muggle and Wizard alike shouldn’t live side by side. I love everything about my muddy blood, and truly I could not tell you what I am. I am French, I am Italian. I am Romani, and I am magic. I am a boy who loves to laugh, but doesn’t remember how. My parents…they,” He pulled his lips into a crooked grin, “Where everything. They were farmers, they were homeless. They owned not a single bit of land, but possessed it all. I can’t tell you what they truly were before, and frankly I don’t think they knew.”

At the sight of the dog, Gale paused a moment as it all suddenly hit him. He remembered it brought up in a meeting once of the one who was allowed to keep him. And his reasons behind having him? Gale knew all too well. On first glance it was easy to see why the dog had such a reputation. The breed alone one of the most respected, and he could remember a time when such beasts broke into camp with the police not far behind.

“Oh he is beautiful,” He spoke first in English, but continued his praise of the animal in French. “May I?” He held out his fingers for the dog to sniff first, and if he didn’t show any signs of biting he might just scratch behind his ear.

’ "I don't ... I don't know.  I don't really ... know how to ... I usually just have lunch...and dinner in the Astronomy tower."

“The Astronomy tower huh? Only thing up there is the stars my boy, what about outside hmm? The air isn’t so cold yet. Want to have lunch with me on the grounds? This boy, looks like he could use a run no?” Oh, maybe he needed a dog. They were a lot cleaner than a lover, and far more loyal.

“Or maybe we can skip the rest of the day and go see a movie?” He laughed, and for a small second there was a hint of how willing he would have been.

"Of course," Sasha agreed, as the professor reached a hand out towards the dog and the dog accepted the invitation for affection with an excited wag of his tail.  Baldur's tongue flicked gently against the man's fingertips before the dog nudged the flat of his head against the man's palm. 

Like Professor Trishna's the man's situation was about as opposite of his own as Sasha could imagine.  Magic aside, there was little muddiness in his parentage.  Sasha even now knew for certain that his father's bloodline was almost as strongly German as his mother's.  Generations of noble ranking restricted his ancestors to a very small, distinct social class.  His mother had been a socialite; the man who raised him as his son had been a high level, international-level banking CEO.  His family...now he, himself, owned three parcels of land totaling almost 60,000 acres.  Even amidst the devastation in the years following the war, none of his family had ever experienced homelessness.  He understood the man's description but, for the life of him, it simply wasn't one he could understand. 

He'd been taught to view everything the man was describing as failures.  Gerhard Schlagenweit had never had kind words for those who sought their living in such precarious fashions.  With his sister's help, Sasha had learned to not take Gerhard's words too much to heart but it was still difficult to comfortably wrap his head around the notion. 

And, yet, the man sounded so proud.  "So, even though they were muggle, your parents supported your magical ability?  They understood it?" 

Sasha grinned slightly at the man's description of the Astronomy tower and shrugged.  "Well.  The stars aren't actually in the tower.  They're above it."  He blushed and shrugged again.  Humor was almost as much not his forte as casual social gathering.  "But, outside is fine.  The rain has let up for now so might as well take advantage of it." 

Skip the rest of the day and see a movie?  Watching the man closely, Sasha was almost convinced he was being at least partly serious.  "Sir?  I don't think there's a theater nearby.  And, I can't exactly leave campus"  Sasha wasn't even sure there was anything worth missing five classes to see. 

"Oh." Gale wanted to pull away when the dog's tongue licked over his fingers, but instead smiled. Hell, he'd even laugh a little as he found his way to the floor to properly greet the beast. "Oh goodness you are a big baby no? Huh? You like that?" He scratched the canine behind his ears and laughed again when he noticed how quickly his tail was wagging. Ok yeah. He wanted a dog.

"What a sweet companion, a loyal faithful friend hmm?" He asked Sasha looking up at him again, and realizing of what a fool he was making himself out to be. A child on his knees before well…a child, and Gale quickly stood though his fingers were slow to leave the fine fur of the pure bred. Like Sasha, he wondered, only the best of the best--bred to be the best. He had no doubt that a quick command from his master would have the beast at Gale's neck, and he'd be dead within seconds. Oh, how he wanted to ask, ask of the reasons for the dog, ask of the family to which Sasha belonged, but he doubted very much Sasha needed one more person to calf after him.

"My boy," Came Gale's reply after being asked of his parents once more, "My mother was a whore, a painted glittering whore, who came from the legs of an equally lose woman. My father a man, or many men, they are never certain couldn't lay claim to just one son. Our home was a traveling sanctuary for all sorts, and though not as glamorous the old days. It was still much the same. For generations and generations France met with Italy, England, America…Ireland, and even Russia. I am Arabic, I am Ukrainian, I am Welch. I am colored like the moon, but made of the sun." Openly, he started their walk, a slow careful path down the hall that would give them time to talk, "All Roma, are born with magic, son. Just I…well," He smiled a little, "I had a little owl come tell me I had just a little more."

With the ever changing light in the hall, and a little stretch of the imagination. One could see that if his coloring had been correct, he would have had dark black hair, and equally black eyes. His skin would have been a deep olive, and a little more tolerant of the sun.

At Sasha's counter of his description of the tower Nightingale laughed and shouldered him gently, "Oh is that so? Thank you Captain Obvious, but a tower is still a tower. Rapunzel. And there are theaters everywhere, you just need to know where to look." A nervous habit caused Gale to start to curl his fingers in the ends of his hair, twisting it around the tips as they made their way round the doors and the sights and smells of the Great Hall struck like a wave. The food was great, it always was, but the overwhelming aroma of today's selection made Gale's stomach turn. The roast was a classic, a comfort to many on days that it was cold, but just the iron content alone tainted the vegetables. He'd be sick for weeks if he ate this, and pondered a trip to the staff room to see if there was any fruit left from the card game. His eye traveled up to the ceiling as it always did, checking for fire, and to reassure himself that it wasn't falling in again.

Without thinking his hand fell to touch the dog's back, scratching again behind his ears as he turned to Sasha. "Why don't you go ahead and get your lunch, and I'll meet you outside? I'd like to go drop my bag off at my room, and grab my coat. By the old oak in five?" He didn't wait for a reply, but turned quickly on his heel and scurried up the grand staircase. He wouldn't take no for an answer, not when Sasha already agreed.

Baldur trailed briefly along behind the pale professor as the man retreated back towards his office, his nose lifted slightly above his head to follow the man's scent even after he'd stopped at the foot of the stairs.  Sasha was quickly growing accustomed to the variety of displays people would offer the dog.  Witches and wizards were far more familiar with their aloof, friendly-on-their-terms feline companions.  The open, honest friendliness of having a dog around seemed even more striking than usual in comparison. 

But, the man's overtly playful reaction to the dog was hardly what stood out the most in the last few moments.  Sasha stood, staring towards the stairs after the man for several seconds after he disappeared from sight.  Sasha wasn't sure if it was choice, habit or entirely unintentional but the Charms professor seemed strangely incapable of offering a straightforward answer.  Not unlike a particular cartoon butterfly[1].  On more than one occasion, his answers seemed to contain as much symbolism as fact.  Or, they just appeared to. 

Sasha was supposed to be fetching lunch and dinner.  The Ravenclaw snapped his fingers, drawing the dog's attention back to himself and continued down to the Great Hall.  Leaving the dog sitting in the entrance hall, Sasha ducked in to the closest table to the door and filled his backpacking tin with roasted potatoes, steamed broccoli, sliced cheese and brown rice.  After tossing a couple pieces of fruit and several rolls into his bag, he left the castle and started across the grounds towards the tree with Baldur once more at his heels.

True to his previous words, valuable study time was rarely wasted.  Once settled, Sasha pulled a stack of flashcards of the fifth group of elements on the periodic table and started flipping through them as he waited.  Baldur was flopped in the grass a short distance away, pressing his nose to the ground and sniffing deeply, presumably following the track of some subterranean creature or another. 

As usual, it was Baldur that noticed the professor's approach first.  Sasha looked up from his cards a moment after the dog looked towards the man's approach. 

"Sir," Sasha offered in greeting. 

1.	Singing Butterfly from The Last Unicorn

“Mister Schlagenweit, studying already?” He mused as he took a seat on the blanket he spread. The pretty little fabric looked more like a King’s Tartan than of a Gypsy’s retreat, but it was soft and warm; that was all that mattered to Nightingale.  In the short time they were apart Gale slipped on a heavier sweater, the sleeves too long for him, and the elbows were a bit warn. However, it reminded him of his years at Hogwarts, and his youthful expression played well to mask his age. He was much older than he looked, and on his arrival was often confused as one of the students.

“So tell me,” He spoke from the silence, settling his book on his lap, and leaning against the tree for support. “I didn’t upset you too greatly did I?” It hurt him to think so, and his self esteem was faulty when it came to the notion of letting his students down.

“Forgive me if I did. It wasn’t my intentions for the class to get out of hand as it did, but know that it won’t happen again. I just…” He looked over at the boy, “Didn’t realize who you were.” He knew Sasha wasn’t the only one to take his class hard, but the boy had been so silent about it. Unlike Church who voiced his disdain rather easily, Sasha sat in silence and suffered this alone.

“Next time, won’t you speak up?”

A bright blush spread across Sasha's cheeks and he quickly lowered the flashcards as the professor approached.  "I ... just quick review," he offered, setting the cards down but only after one last quick glance at the back of the tantalum card.  "I have a little bit of a busy schedule and I've got exams coming up in December.  So, just quick review."  But, only while he was waiting; Sasha did try to make a concerted effort not to study too much when others were around. 

The conversation topic swung back around to the class material and Sasha shrugged dismissively when the man asked for forgiveness.  "It actually happens pretty regularly, sir" he offered in response to the class getting out of hand.  "We have some interesting personalities in our year.  Not as bad as some of the younger years, though."  Compared to some of the younger years, their year was actually pretty restrained at times.  They were just very opinionated, many of them very passionate about their pursuits. 

"Didn't realize who I was?" Sasha repeated, glancing curiously towards the professor.  Did that mean the man knew now?  And, what, exactly, did he know? 

Sasha tugged his backpacking tin from his bag and flipped the latches off to retrieve the several slices of cheese.  "I ... it wasn't your fault.  I don't know.  It just took me by surprise.  I mean - I've seen it before.  Memory modification.  The Ministry used it on my parents and almost did so on my sister last year.  And-"  And, Kronos had made a not so subtle suggestion about the technique.  But that, of course, Sasha had no intentions of sharing.  "I just hadn't really thought about it recently - about loosing your own memories.  I guess, I just don't understand - if they can really change memories - not just take them away.  Why not ... why would it be so bad to fix memories.  Like you fix any other injury?"

Curling his feet beneath him he opened his little bit of a rag to reveal an apple spread spiced with cinnamon and the rolls he managed to keep from last night’s dinner, and smiled at Sasha.

“Son, listen. You have this. You can do this. I have so much faith in you, as well as this whole school that I bet right now I could quiz you and you’d answer everything perfectly. You don’t need those.” He pulled his wand from the insides of his jacket to tap the space between them, the banishing charm surging like a bolt of lightning as it made it’s way over to the deck.

“You. Being that of who you are, Sasha. The boy able to keep a pet.” He started quietly slipping a bit of bread between his thin lips, and tucking a few strands of his hair behind his decorated ears before continuing, “A therapist once told me,” He started in a whisper looking up to make sure they were alone, “That it could all be over if I just started over again, and cleaned it all away.” Sasha asked all the right questions, and in doing so it broke his own heart. He wanted to reach out and touch the boy, confirm in him that it all does get better.

"I just hadn't really thought about it recently - about loosing your own memories.  I guess, I just don't understand - if they can really change memories - not just take them away.  Why not ... why would it be so bad to fix memories.  Like you fix any other injury?" His point exactly, and only for a moment he remained quiet enough to try and gather the right words. However, they fell from his lips, rushing like a fire burning in his eyes, and the light of the flame flashed in his silver eye.

“Then what would you fight for? Sasha, life is about overcoming obstacles that are placed before us. Walking over a bed of coals. We are only born to die, so what really matters is the living in between. The right now, Sasha.” He turned a little more towards the Ravenclaw with such passion in his little hands that he worried a fire would ignite between them.

“Because half the battle is knowing how to not let the past matter anymore, and live for the now.” He exhaled puffing the shorter part of his hair from his face, “Trust me. I know.” And it wasn’t just the battle that plagued him, no. It was a boy. Wasn’t it always?

Sasha blinked in confusion and watched, uncertainly, as the man drew his wand.  "What are you-" he started to ask but the cards were gone before the boy could finish the sentence.  He stared at the spot where the small stack of four cards had been before looking back up.  The Ravenclaw wasn't upset - trying to recreate the cards later from memory would be good practice - but it was a bit unsettling to discover how uneasy, even naked, their absence made him feel. 

"I'm not so sure," Sasha admitted, despite the man's show of confidence.  He knew quite a few shared the man's certainty.  But, Sasha's expectations of himself were as unyielding as always.  "With that stuff, it's hard to gauge how I'm doing comparatively.  If I don't score well, that'll pretty much put an end to that side of things.  I need at least five high grades to move on to A-Levels."  Sasha didn't know precisely how much the Charms professor was aware of - or even if he was familiar enough with the muggle educational system to know what A-Levels were.  Just in case, he clarified: "and, I need strong A-Levels for the university."  Sasha was well aware there was a reason so few Hogwarts students went on to muggle university, besides the cultural stigma.  That was all on top of NEWTs. 

Sasha glanced, briefly, at the Shepherd when the man mentioned him keeping a pet and blushed, slightly but he shifted uneasily at the mention of a therapist.  Despite the momentary discomfort, he listened closely to the man's words, though his gaze continued to rest on the dog.  Several moments passed after the professor grew quiet before the Ravenclaw spoke. 

"But, I don't feel like I'm fighting, sir" he finally confessed.  "When I do, it just ... it feels like a fight I can't win.  I don't know how to fight it.  I tried, at first.  I did."  And, he had.  He'd tried to set things right.  To push through, to move on and refocus on what was important.  He'd tried to balance school and everything else.  He'd even tried to steer clear of Kronos.  "It just kept getting worse.  Whatever I did.  People kept getting hurt.  I -" 

He was terrified.  Almost all the time.  The only times he wasn't was when he was studying or around Kronos.  Studying distracted him and kept his mind focused and away from wandering.  With Kronos - it often felt a lot like being that rabbit that had been dropped in the enclosure of some massive venomous reptile at the pet store.  For whatever inexplicable reason, the snake had decided to befriend the rabbit rather than devour it.  The rabbit knew what the snake was - knew what the snake did - but it also knew nothing would get near it.  Despite the contradiction, the rabbit was safer nearer then snake than away from it.

"I know how that sounds," Sasha admitted, with a slight shrug.  "I know I'm supposed to be stronger.  Or, have it more together or whatever.  So far, staying distracted is the only thing that's worked."

Distraction. Was that what this was? Gale couldn’t help but wonder if Sasha was speaking the truth, but so far the boy had no reason to lie did he? And with a wave of his wand the cards returned, and he turned an apologetic look to the boy.

“But fighting is half the pleasure in life, Sasha. We start our lives fighting for our first breath of air, and go down trying to hold on to the same. For a very long time I had to fight to get out of bed, and now all I do is fight for it. You are much stronger than you give yourself credit for, honey.” Gale sat back against the tree watching Sasha’s dog with a very content glance, and continued,

“I don’t know your story, Sasha, nor will I pretend to. You have your secrets as we all do, but I can tell you from experience that you can’t live your life like this. I lost my love ten years ago and I’ve been a shadow of myself ever since. Looking back now, after meeting so many great people, and hoping that I am making some sort of impression on my students I realize how much of a mistake it was to grieve as I have. I’ve missed so much sitting here by myself, sitting in my apartments alone, and with all the Kings horses and all the Kings men trying to put me back together again.”

For a moment Gale studied Sasha, trying to imagine what sort of man he would be when he was grown. Besides handsome he could easily see Sasha as a great leader, perhaps a headmaster or even a Professor. He could be King if he wanted, a prince even, but he had to come out of his shadow first.

“I’m sure you get this a lot, but…” Gale took a deep breath, and curled his legs beneath him further, “You know you can talk to me right? Come to me if you ever need someone to vent, or…” He whispered, “Fight for you.” The double meaning one of his darkest secrets. He had deep connections that ran the length of the darkest woods, and came from a family that were as thick as thieves.