They'd gone seeking hydration during a break in the music.  As predicted, the formal waltzes had given way to more modern music a couple hours into the evening.  Sasha had been trying his best to keep up with odd assortment of dances that had accompanied the change in music, if one could call it that.  As far as he could tell, there seemed to be little rhyme or reason to the assortment of movements and dancing styles and Sasha wasn't convinced most people weren't just making it up as they went. 

It was gangly and awkward attempting to flop around pointlessly and, given Abby's general level of amusement, it was difficult to tell if he was doing a fantastic job or a miserable one.  Odds certainly favored the later option.  But, he was trying!

Either way, Sasha was more than willing to partake in hydration breaks when the opportunity arose.  At least, getting drinks had been the initial plan when Ravenclaw and squib had broken away from the dancing.  But, by the time Sasha had reached the table covered with glasses and punch bowls, Abby was no longer just behind him.  It wasn't the first time that evening a familiar face in the crowd had diverted the squib's attention and Sasha was fairly confident it wouldn't be the last. 

It was completely understandable and Sasha simply grinned and shook his head as he took a goblet of what he hoped was water.  And not that weird crystalline punch he'd encountered earlier.  Abby Reid could like count the number of times she'd be able to visit with her friends here at Hogwarts on one hand. 

The Ravenclaw took a tentative sip of his drink and, satisfied it was simple water, turned to find a place to sit.  His way, it appeared, was thwarted by one of the less ... proper members of the Slytherin house.  Assuming (hoping), the older student was on his way to do something questionable to the punch bowls, Sasha ducked his head and started heading in another direction. 

He was no longer a prefect, after all.  Such transgressions were no longer his responsibility.

"Sasha sweetums!" Deus, as he was wont to do, appeared quite out of nowhere to block the studious Ravenclaw's path to croon the affectionate greeting with unfeigned delight. He had a knack for it—popping up silently and quietly in places he really had no place being, and Godric knew where he'd be found once he got Apparating down. Well, he already did, but as he couldn’t do so from Hogwarts, there was no need to spread that bit around, and lessons would be starting soon anyway. There would be time enough to play slacker genius later. Tonight, despite what the professors would tell them about decorum and honor and tradition and other nonsense he did actually listen to despite outward appearances, was for fun.

And Sasha always did seem to need a little help with that, in Deus's opinion.

As evidenced from his rather abrupt change in direction.

Deus was having none of that.

The tall Slytherin, rather than frown, grinned wickedly  and strode confidently after the retreating figure, catching up and promptly  draping one arm lavishly over the shoulder of his fellow sixth year, the long limb dangling down his chest to tug aimlessly at the folds of his robes, while the other snatched flicked the glass of water with obvious disapproval, equally evidenced by the tsking cluck of his tongue. The boy—man now, technically speaking, if one were keeping strictly to wizard law—was in understated green dress robes, obviously not making their first appearance in the world. Deus didn't come from money. He didn't even come from middle class for that matter, which made him something of an oddity in the privileged ranks of Old Slytherin. But call it cunning, shrewd business sense, or outright petty theft, he still always seemed to have sickles to rub together when he needed them, and he didn't need fashion to have style.

Despite what that tailor Erin was related to may think.

He was wearing a hat, and because he was Deus, dangling from the end of it was a rather obscene amount of mistletoe, and Deus, leaning in as though to tell Sasha a secret, promptly slurped the boy from chin to ear before placing a cheerful peck on his forehead. There was no malice in Deus's teasing. A perpetual undertone of what could possibly be deemed sociopathy, but not-caring meant not caring enough to actually, truly be mean about anything when not provoked. "Darling, Ah'm offended. Runnin' tail from me like I'm the Grimm comin' tae hunt yer teacups. Were ye tryin' tae keep me a secret from yer pretty date?" He fluttered his eyelashes adoringly, as though in that moment, Sasha was his entire world. Which, for the moment and Deus's plans, he was.

It would have been hard to imagine two individuals any more different from each other than the Ravenclaw and the Slytherin.  Every aspect of the scene with the Slytherin draped over the Ravenclaw illustrated that fact.  Deus draped himself over Sasha's shoulder with a fluid looseness, mimicked by the irregular folds in his simple green robes.  In a world where tradition assumed money and social power followed blood status, Sasha's own wealth often went largely unnoticed.  However, this evening, he hadn't held back.  His robes were Darian Morgan customs, and not a detail had been missed in his grooming. 

Even as the Slytherin continued to drape over the Ravenclaw, scrunching the silver-threaded vest and shifting the drape of the carefully tailered shoulders, Sasha made a pointed attempt to smooth and tug his outfit back into it's former flawless fit. 

"If you don't mind," Sasha said, his usual politeness a little more forced than usual.  "I'd ... you're invading my personal space just a-"  But, the physical contact proved to be neither the last nor the worst of the Slytherin's transgressions.  Sasha froze and stiffened, too shocked by the slurping to initially react. 

"You're ... you're offended?" Sasha spluttered, staring at the Slytherin in disbelief.  "I...what...what did you do that for?  Are you mental?"  On some level, he half-hoped the answer was 'yes.'  Claiming some degree of mental instability would, at the very least, offer some logical explanation for the other young man's behavior.  Sasha tugged the silver handkerchief free from his pocket (who would have thought it would actually serve more than a decorative purpose?) and quickly wiped his face before carefully refolding it and stowing it back in his pocket. 

Sasha blinked and looked up at Deus.  "There's nothing to keep secret.  I'm not..."  It was possible the Slytherin's words were little more than the musings of a nutter but, just in case, Sasha wanted to make it clear.  He still didn't quite understand what that had been with Ferguson, and some days he still missed the other young man dearly.  He didn't know.  But, he didn't need Deus confusing things or giving any wrong impressions. 

"Is there something I can help you with?" Sasha asked, making an attempt to duck down out from under Deus' arm and gain himself just a little more personal space.  "Abby, I'm sure, we'll be catching up soon."  Just so they both understood this complication had an expiration date.

"Yes." Deus responded, terribly amused at the forced politeness. One of these days, really, he was going to break the boy of that. Shoving someone off was a perfectly acceptable response to the gross invasion of bubble he was enacting: there wasn't the least need to be polite about it. "Yes. Ah'm rather aware o' that dear. Really Sasha, I know yer smart, but there's nae need tae assume the rest o' us ain't capable o' basic reasoning, unless that's yer prissy way o' tellin' me tae shove it, in which case might tae be more direct about it. Try it wit' me. 'Sod off, Deres.'" The last was spoken in a surprisingly accurate departure from Deus's usually heavy brogue, though he was attempting to make a point rather than mock. Or maybe a bit of both. He shook his head, patting the boy on the shoulder with all the fondness of a slightly inebriated uncle.

Deus snorted, and yet simultaneously looked inordinately pleased at being called (or at least questioned to be) mental. (He'd been called worse, of course.) Rather than respond directly— Deus rarely did when it came to direct questions, whether they were rhetorical or not, generally preferring a slippery side-step simply to keep in the practice of it—he hummed, and murmured cheerfully. "Never imagine yerself nae tae be otherwise than what it might appear tae others that what ye were or might have been was not otherwise than what ye had been would have appeared tae them tae be otherwise." He said this with the breezy, confident air of someone who stood entirely behind his words, and he did of course. He suspected, if Sasha was paying attention— and if he wasn't, Deus was going to be terribly offended, again—he'd recognize the passage, because although Alice and Wonderland was hardly a textbook, it seemed ridiculous enough to qualify as 'legitimate literature' and therefore, to Deus's mind, was something Sasha probably had his nose shoved in at some point or another. If he hadn't, it was still an answer Deus enjoyed. Why he himself has memorized it was entirely another question all together, and not one he was likely to answer.

He did point to the mistletoe dangling from his hat as an explanation for the slurping—which wasn't precisely a kiss but he'd done that before and he did so like to keep people on their toes. His eyes sparkled in a wicked way that did not bode well, and added what could only be described as a terribly sinister undertone to the otherwise innocent voice he responded with. "Do ye wanna wear it fer a bit? I'll even give ye a stickin' charm." While he spoke, and while Sasha was busy scrubbing his face and focused on getting Deus slobber off. Deus's free hand answered Sasha's question rather more truthfully about what-he-had-done-that-for, and with fingers as light and quick as smoke, he relieved Sasha of his wand, which disappeared into the folds of the Slytherin's dressrobes with the barest flutter of fabric.[1] Distractions were lovely little things.

And he could not believe Sasha had a dang pocket hankie. He raised an eyebrow in complete silence as the other boy finished folding it and putting it back, and shook his head once more in a manner that could only be described as pitying. Eyes dancing like an imp, he sighed, long- suffering, and let Sasha escape the arm around his shoulders only to loop it 'round his elbow like a fashionable escort or like two gossiping witches might. He sounded so terribly distressed, or at least frustrated or flustered and possibly a bit annoyed, all of which amused Deus terribly. "Of course nae." He said comfortingly to the secret bit, and completely belying the hand he patted Sasha's with, with the air of someone playing along just to humor.

And then Sasha got to the point, and, eyes gleaming like a cat that had cornered a mouse, the final question had barely left Sasha's lips before Deus was responding with a prompt, "Aye, there is." He let Sasha free, but took a step so he was in front of him again, facing him with an expression that was both curious and intense and completely unreadable to any real further depth of meaning. "Ye can answer a question fer me." And then he smiled, and the boy who might be a (strange sort of) friend and might be an (extreme) annoyance and might just be a bit-too-cunning of a person paying rather more attention to his fellow classmate than he had any right to, was gone from his face, and the imp was back, and he wouldn't ask the question, not until Sasha gave him an affirmative, because the same oddity that had him sidestepping direct questions tended to keep him from asking them in turn without permission when they mattered, in a strange protection of anyone who wouldn't want to answer, for all they had to take a gamble on what it would wind up being or never know. "And I'll be on me way, and ye can find yer pretty date and have a nice snog behind a ficas tree. Which," He sighed again, predicting what Sasha's response to that would be, "Ye really ought tae consider, if she's  amenable."

1.	If this is god-modey. I will edit!

Sasha didn't shove.  Such acts of petty fighting were reserved for those who couldn't handle matters in more appropriate and sophisticated ways.  Maybe making faces and trying to weasel away weren't the best examples of those alternatives, but they were better than shoving.  Especially given the formal and public circumstances.  "Basic reasoning, yes," Sasha conceded.  He assumed Deus was capable of that.  His response pointedly didn't elaborate on whether or not he assumed the Slytherin was capable of more.  Needless to say, Sasha did not join Deus is saying 'sod off, Deres.'  Doing his best to ignore the warmth rising in his cheeks, Sasha waited for the Slytherin to fall quiet before trying to respond in his own brand of a more direct manner. 

"I would appreciate it if you'd, you know, respect my ..."  Even before saying it, Sasha was well aware saying 'personal bubble' wasn't going to help him.  Especially when the Slytherin started quoting Carroll. 

Sasha froze when the Slytherin threatened him with the Blake-appropriate hat, mistletoe and the sticking charm.  The next moment, completely unaware of the lad's roving hand, Sasha made another, stronger attempt to pull away.  "No," he said, firmly, shaking his head.  "I ... people would ..."  They might get the wrong impression.  Assume it was an invitation rather than the coerced form of amusement that it was.  "I don't ... I don't randomly kiss.  I only want...that's not...don't.  Please,"  Sasha insisted, a plea and desperation easing into his voice.  This evening had been going so well.  Something like that would only give the wrong impression to the wrong people in all the wrong ways. 

The Slytherin was no longer draped over the Ravenclaw like some drunken street walker but that didn't mean Sasha was completely free of him.  Sasha glanced suspiciously at the linked arms and then up at Deus when the young man stepped in front of him.  The look of suspicion grew as Sasha glanced around him and back at Deus.  What on earth could the Slytherin want to ask him?  And, did Sasha really want to know?  The Ravenclaw was fairly certain the answer was 'no.'  The only benefit he could see to the arrangement was, perhaps, answering the stupid question might satiate the Slytherin and send him slithering on his way to pester his next victim. 

"And I'll be on me way, and ye can find yer pretty date and have a nice snog behind a ficas tree. Which, ye really ought tae consider, if she's  amenable."

A bright blush bloomed on the Ravenclaw's face, sweeping quickly up past his hairline, and Sasha shifted uncomfortably, taking a large gulp of the water Deus had just disapproved of moments before.  "It's not like that," Sasha said, quietly, even though he knew he owed the Slytherin no explanation.  Even if it was something he'd occasionally caught himself thinking about since she'd talked about kissing boys over the summer.  Sometimes idly.  Sometimes less so.  But, suddenly, answering Deus' stupid question seemed considerably more inviting.  Especially if it diverted the Slytherin's attention from that unfortunate folly. 

"Fine.  What do you want to know." 

"Arrogant prick." Deus said affectionately at the implied insult, hand flying up to pinch Sasha's cheek in a way that wasn't quite as friendly as his tone. But he was rather delighted to see Sasha had it in him. There were times when manners were appropriate, but not where Deus was from.

"I would appreciate it if you'd, you know, respect my ..."

The only reason Deus didn't interrupt Sasha was because he was so absolutely horrified that Sasha thought that would work he couldn't get it out fast enough. Mercifully and to the Ravenclaw's credit, he thought better of it before finishing that particular sentence. Deus still groaned, hand covering his face in absolute despair. Sasha was hopeless. "Nope." He said simply. "Donnae feel like it." He left it at that, though he wondered what Sasha would do when they weren't in polite company, or if someone held him at wandpoint or such. Threatened a loved one. And there it was, really. While Deus's first suspicion was that, rather than risk any greater trouble, Sasha would hand over his galleons to a thief because he had plenty more (or that the possessions would be no doubt charmed to repel theft), he wasn't—not entirely—sure. After all, there was that thing he'd done during the First Challenge, the smoke, and there were rumors of more, and while Deus rather suspected Sasha's inability to produce a patronus had as much to do with him being a fun-sucking-sponge as anything, it made him start wondering again. And hence his perpetual need to pester until such a point in time where he could figure just which way Sasha was going to wind up facing when he finally stopped spinning.

"No, 1 ... people would ...I don't ... I don't randomly kiss. I only want...that's not...don't. Please,"

And there was the other problem, as far as Deus was concerned. Taking pity on the note of desperation clearly evident, Deus just snickered. "Yer like jello mate, it ain't helpin' yer cause. Deep breathes. Full sentences." But he rather notably made no movement to remove his hat or affix it to Sasha's person.

And when Sasha agreed to his game of QA, Deus's smile spread like the Cheshire Cat's. "Easy enough," Deus was, at the best of times, mercurial. He glided through moods like a one-man play, and they all seemed to settle on his shoulders as easily and comfortably as his robes.  The mischief-maker had been replaced, yet again, with another character just as familiar—the detached slacker, wry and observant, with his hands in his pockets and voice and eyes casual. "Here it is. What 'appens when ye got a potion, bubbling ahn boilin' it's little arse off, and ye clamp the lid down so tight nothing gets out, nae even a wee bit o' steam, and the more it bubbles, the more ye clamp?" He waggled a finger and added, "Consider, if ye will, that loosenin' control is sometimes the best way tae keep from losin' it." Eyes sparkling with mischief again, he took a step forward, fingers tweaking one of Sasha's lapels to straighten it--covering the movement of his other hand, surreptitiously slipping a sprig of mistletoe into the place the stolen wand had occupied, too delighted with the rather fascinating shade of red the other boy had turned at the thought of kissing his date to resist. "Start wit' that snog, eh?" And then he was abruptly stepping past and moving on with his night, mistletoe bobbling above the crowd as he went off, undoubtedly, to find someone else to bother.

For now. 

Abby had meant to follow Sasha. She was thirsty from all the dancing, and had been eying the refreshments from afar, when suddenly she glanced over just in time to steady herself for the hug a first-year launched at her. Then another first-year! The second youngster was a bit more subdued.

Yet it was not a random ambush of hugs! Abby recognized Rowena and Sophia, and just had to stop and talk to them. Sasha, thankfully, didn't seem to mind her many social detours tonight.

She focused her attention on the girls, complimenting them on their mad dancing skills, and laughing with Rowena at the state of her hair, which had already begun to poof up out of its updo. She was asking Sophia about what she was hoping to get over the holidays, when she glanced over at Sasha and found him talking to someone.

Oh good! Yay! He was being social on his own. Not that he didn't make an effort, but at least he was speaking to someone who didn't look like a Ravenclaw - likely a Slytherin, judging by the color of his robes. With the cutest disheveled hair! Abby smiled at them, until she saw Sasha backing away from the student's arm, hastily wiping his face with a handkerchief. Odd.

Kittens! Rowena and Sophia were talking about kittens. Abby's attention was successfully diverted. Cute little bundles of holiday joy!

After a minute, she glanced back at Sasha. The Slytherin's arm was at his side again, but they were still talking, and Sasha still seemed uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," Abby held up her hands and stopped Rowena mid-sentence about Quidditch. "I have to go check on my date. Yeah, laugh all you want!" She teased. "I promise to catch up with you two later!"

She bounded over to stand next to Sasha as the other student was walking away.

"What happened? Are you ok? You have something on your face," she leaned in a bit, pointing at her own cheek so he'd know where the shiny spot was.

There were some activities, like getting vaccinated or having ones wisdom teeth removed, that were inevitably unpleasant.  For the average person, there was really nothing that could be done to make them enjoyable.  All one could do was simple endure and hope it would be over as soon as possible.  Such was the case with the current interaction with Deus Deres.  All Sasha could hope to do was attempt to find a happy place in his head and wait for the Slytherin to grow bored and wander off. 

A wood fire blazing in stone fireplace in some alpine chalet while snow fell on the drifts outside.  That was his current happy place of choice.  Oblivious to the other curious musings in the Slytherin's head, Sasha half listened to the young man's words of advice and half envisioned sitting by the blazing fire up the middle of some unidentified mountains. 

Deus' question started out deceptively academic and Sasha's brows arched as he gave it the same due consideration that he gave most any academic query.  "Loosening control is the best way to keep from losing ..."  Sasha repeated,  slowly, quite clearly giving the question considerable thought but, at least for the time being, completely missing the point.  What kind of question was that?  Deus wanted to know what happened to a pot under steam pressure?  How did this have anything to do with a Yule Ball?  And, there was that suggestion, again.  Of, kissing...snogging Abby. 

If it were only that simple. 

Deus moved off into the crowd, leaving Sasha standing with that one last thought lingering in his head.  And, he couldn't help it.  Couldn't help standing there, feeling slightly stunned, thinking about just that.  Kissing her.  Was he supposed to?  Was she expecting it?  If he found the guts to, would it be so bad?  The answer to the first seemed obvious - of course not.  He'd asked her to the Ball but it wasn't really, officially considered a date.  And, she was meeting up with the boy her parents wanted her to marry, at some point.  As to the second question?  Speculating whether it was possible she was expecting it seemed unfair.  Especially given his own personal bias on the matter.  As to the third...

That thought was still lingering in his head when Abby bounded up next to him.  Sasha jumped and blinked, a new rush of color flooding his face as he quickly shook his head with the urgency of one who'd just been caught red-handed.  "I ... what?  No!  Nothing...nothing happened.  I'm sorry!  I ... I'm okay."  Think about gravity problems.  Or, the industrial revolution.

There was still left over Deres?  Sasha's nose wrinkled and he quickly tugged his handkerchief back out.  "It's ... it's spit," Sasha admitted, folding the silver cloth to expose a fresh, clean bit of the interior.  "He ... did something with his mouth.  It ... I'd rather pretend it didn't happen.  That was Deus Deres.  He's rather uncouth.  One of the many who think making me cringe is an official Hogwarts sport."

Abby blinked in surprise at his guilty, jumpy reaction. She hadn't actually thought anything too untoward had happened, or that he was a willing participant in whatever the student had subjected him to. Now she wondered what in the world she'd missed.

Kissing? Her mind leaped to that assumption, making her look utterly baffled.

"Huh?" It took her a few seconds. "He kissed you? Like randomly? What a weirdo!"

Right in the middle of a fancy yule ball! Well, that wasn't so surprising, considering the number of couples sneaking away to do just that. But that was the point. They sneaked away! Abby tilted her head, trying to reconcile his guilt with his unhappiness over it. Was he more embarrassed because a boy had done it?  Did he think she thought he wanted to?

She shook her head, focusing on what was important.

"You're sure you're alright? I noticed some octopus arms happening."

"I ... he- No!" 

Sasha was hardly an expect in the matter, but even he could see that that had not been a kiss.  "There...there was far too much tongue involved."  Whatever Deres had done was more akin to a camel marking its calf as its own.  Somehow, Sasha had to assume that Deres, of all people, was experienced enough to know the difference. 

Warmth still radiated from Sasha's cheeks as he fumbled with the handkerchief, trying to fold it back into careful squares.  This was so very humiliating!  He would have thought tonight, of all nights, he would have been spared of such things. 

The Ravenclaw shook his head, slightly, glancing around at the suddenly far too crowded Great Hall.  Of course, chances were everyone around them was too busy with their own festivities to notice but Sasha couldn't shake the feeling that everyone had been watching. 

"I ... no.  I don't know..."  Sasha said, still clearly flustered.  "I think I need some fresh air."  And, to get away from the center of the crowd.  "Do you want to step outside?" 

Octopus arms.  Was that an official term for being creepily hands on?  "I think he was offering some stupid advice - butting his nose in to things that are none of his business."  And, that he knew nothing about.  "Or, he wanted to discuss potions homework.  I'm not sure which.  And, I don't know, maybe he thought I wouldn't hear from arm's length.  But, I think ... I'll be fine..."  Not the most convincing assertion, Sasha's voice trailed off in a slightly disappointed, resigned sigh.

The mention of tongue only convinced her that it had been a kiss, but it didn't matter what Sasha called it. Deus was an ass. Abby looked sympathetic at Sasha's flushed face. She would not be happy either if some random bloke saw fit to slobber on her during a nice, elegant evening.

"Ok," Abby agreed quickly, looping her arm with his and leading him out of the hall. She paused. Ah right, this way to the courtyard.

Once outside, she found a spot away from the lanterns, by a tall bush decorated with ice crystals. There were not many students in the courtyard, but this should afford them some privacy.

"Has he bothered you before?" Abby wondered how many people were in the make-Sasha-cringe-club. "What did he say?"

Only a few moments later, Abby realized that perhaps this specific spot in the courtyard was not the best place to try and have a conversation. One, there were sound effects coming from a bush nearby, which told her the plant was either sentient or a couple had sneaked off to snog behind it. Two, it was colder away from the lanterns. Abby crossed her arms, then pursed her lips together to keep from giggling inappropriately. If she ignored it, perhaps Sasha wouldn't notice!

As they stepped through the doorway out into the courtyard, the rush of cold, winter air hit the young man's embarrassment-warmed cheeks.  His cheeks tingled, brightly, but the sudden change in temperature had been a relief and by the time Abby stopped, Sasha's thoughts had settled. 

It was quiet and more out of the way in the courtyard, but it was also considerably chillier.  Abby's arm was still looped with his own and Sasha shuffled a little closer in the cold, shrugging his shoulders as he shook his head. 

"He's done similar before," Sasha admitted.  Stray, uninvited kisses seemed to be the Slytherin's MOs.  He'd done something similar during the party after the first Tournament Task.  That time, at least, it had been a more traditional (less lick-y) in nature.  "It's not as bad as others, though.  I'm used to it." 

How was he supposed to answer the second question?  Was he supposed to be honest?  Was this one of those situations where honesty was really not the best idea?  Sasha glanced around, awkwardly, his moment's hesitation lasting just long enough for him to the telltale sounds coming from the nearby bush.  A fresh blush rose in the Ravenclaw's cheeks and Abby's expression did little to help avoid it. 

Bugger all. 

"I ... he ... it was ..."  Subconsciously, Sasha's gaze darted towards the bush before he cringed.  "It doesn't matter much - whatever he said wasn't very appropriate, anyway.  Just ... it really isn't worth worrying about.  Best to just, you know...um...who did you find?"

Hearing he was used to Slytherins randomly slobbering on him did not reassure her. She shook her head, looking baffled.

Abby knew what he was doing when he answered, following his gaze to the noisy shrubbery. He couldn't have been less subtle. But she let him divert attention for the moment, wanting to be considerate for once.

"Rowena and Sophia found me," she said with a sincere grin. "First-years! They're family, in a way. My cousin is the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot - I know right? Fancy, fancy. We don't get to see them much because my mother is ridiculous," Abby rolled her eyes. She was ridiculous about Aisling's lack of  blood purity.

"But his wife has been really nice to me at the Ministry," she commented, her tone growing less exuberant as she was reminded of Mr. Eleor's kidnapping. "We send each other letters. I think I caught her smile at us at one point when we were dancing."

She hunched her shoulders and leaned against his arm, unabashedly using his body heat.

"Aileen and I are going to see them over the holidays, I hope!"

Glancing at the hidden couple nearby, she widened her eyes slightly. Merlin, they were loud!

Perhaps she'd been taking pity on him, in light of having to endure the last few minutes.  That seemed considerably more likely than his not-so-subtle change in topic actually seeming completely, genuinely random.  Either way, Sasha was relieved.  If it weren't for the suggestive soundtrack coming from behind the bushes, Sasha might manage to push Deres' suggestion from his mind before it got him into trouble.  For better or worse. 

"First years," Sasha repeated, furrowing his brow for a moment.  "Sophia's a Ravenclaw, isn't she?  I remember the sorting."  He couldn't quite remember which house the other had been sorted into, though he knew it hadn't been Slytherin.  He tended to take note of Knights that ended up in Slytherin.  Beyond that, he couldn't remember if she was Gryffindor or Hufflepuff.  For her sake, though, he hoped it was Gryffindor. 

At first, Sasha didn't give the gesture much thought.  He placed his hand gently on Abby's exposed arm when she leaned against him, rubbing it gently against the cold. 

"She's ridiculous because he's the Chief Warlock?" Sasha asked.  "Or...oh.  It's ... nevermind."  The Ravenclaw didn't know much about those in the Ministry, personally, so it had taken a few moments for him to weed through the details he knew, academically.  But that particular union had been just high profile enough to get brought up in Prophet editorials and commentaries. 

He'd already wondered on a few occasions whether Abby's mother's ridiculousness would eventually be directed at him.  "She was smiling at us?" 

Abby glanced, again, towards the bushes and, habitually, Sasha followed suit but quickly looked forward.  "I'm sorry."  What he was apologizing for, Sasha didn't have a clue.  For suggesting going outside.  For his mind's insistence on returning to Deres' suggestion every time one of the bush-inhabitants giggled.  Just to say something since, by now, someone obviously had to say something.  He couldn't really pretend neither of them noticed without blatantly lying.  And, he already decided weeks ago he wasn't going to lie to Abby. 

Just strategically change subjects when absolutely necessary.  That was different than lying. 

Abby nodded at his questions, smiling gratefully at his gesture to keep her warm. It felt natural, and she didn’t think about it at first either. She was thinking that at least she didn’t have to explain that her parents were purists without actually calling them that, because it wasn’t the best term to call your family, even if those snogging in the bushes were likely too occupied to care. Sasha might be able to guess as much anyway, given her description of them in the past.

“It looked like it,” she commented on Aisling Knight. She’d caught a smile and nod in her direction, and preferred to imagine it were directed at the two of them rather than just her.

When Sasha apologized, Abby pursed her lips again. Then her shoulders started to shake. And she put a hand over her mouth to mask the giggles.

“Sorry!” She exclaimed, shaking her head at her own mirth, and finding it far too hilarious that she’d just apologized after he had apologized for no good reason. Deep breaths, Abby! The combination of giddiness and nervousness she was feeling was really not helping. She’d become more and more aware of his hand on her arm.

“There’s not much you can do about them, Sasha,” she said between giggles. “Unless you cast Silencio, or something.” Raising her eyebrows mischievously, she glanced in the direction of the couples.

Well, they could start kissing each other. The whole setting seemed to encourage the idea. Though for all her bravado and flirtatiousness, she hesitated to take that step.