"You probably think me a bit off."  Jacoba offered with a grin as she took a long, slow sip of her beer.  When set back down, the glass slid on its own puddle of condensation before the young woman lifted it again and placed a napkin down on top of the slick, worn wooden surface. 

Jacoba was well aware she might not have made the best of first impressions, though she assumed for understandable reasons.  Her path had crossed the professor's while she'd been hurrying back to help rearrange the stage between bands.  She'd caught a glimpse of Ignan Storm and, despite having never met the man, recognized him immediately.  It shouldn't have been surprising - she'd been expecting it, given the setting.  Despite that, it had still caught her off guard.  After staring in surprise several long moments, Jacoba had quickly introduced herself before continuing her hustle to the stage. 

Chances were good that, if he'd already developed that impression, there was little she could do to change it.  Not unless the man across from her was hoping, or expecting, her to ignore the obvious. 

Which, Jacoba had already considered, was entirely possible.  Given what little she'd heard from her brother. 

"You spend a good chunk of your life considering someone, almost to the point where you think you know them, knowing you'll never meet them.  Then, suddenly, they're there. It's a bit surreal.  Though, I apologize if I'm not supposed to be talking about it?  It's sometimes hard to tell such things with my brother."  She arched an eyebrow in the older man's direction, hoping for guidance or parameters, if they existed.

---

"You spend a good chunk of your life considering someone, almost to the point where you think you know them, knowing you'll never meet them.  Then, suddenly, they're there. It's a bit surreal.  Though, I apologize if I'm not supposed to be talking about it?  It's sometimes hard to tell such things with my brother."

"Talking about what?" Ignan replied, his pint of beer untouched as yet, sat nearby to hers. He gave the slightest of smirks. "I don't suppress the common knowledge of blood ties, I just think its simpler amongst all the stresses for things to be kept a little quieter, for him at least." He dropped his gaze from Jacoba's face a moment, reflecting that sometimes this wasn't the best option, but it almost couldn't be helped.

"I agree with the surreal, though." He flicked his gaze back to his son's half-sister's face and rolled his shoulders back, trying to relax about this conversation. "Wasn't my best night, when he confronted me and asked to compare our blood."[1]

He wasn't sure what to expect when meeting Jacoba either. He'd heard about her - seen her at a distance the night before and at events, but never spoken to her. Now they were drinking beer in Hogsmeade. If this was anything like the way he and Tapendra set out, he'd wake up next morning beside her in bed.

Dear Merlin he pushed that fleeting comparison out of his head with urgency. It wasn't that Jacoba wasn't a pretty girl, it was just that it wasn't how he did business any more. That was precisely the type of business that had earned him an unexpected son. Besides, this woman, Muggle or not, was now part of his life.

"It is good to finally meet you. I'm sure, like Sasha you have questions, and perhaps in return, you might be able to tell me a little more about your mother. It is with great regret I didn't know her better." He lifted his pint of beer and took a sip at last.

1.	Tis the Season of Black and Orange

For the briefest of moments, Jacoba scowled at Ignan in mildly panicked confusion.  Did he really not know what she was talking about?  Was she confused?  It was, of course, entirely possible.  What little information the young woman had was limited to her own thoughts and memories and what she'd gathered from Johann's visit.  But, the man across from her smirked and Jacoba sighed, shaking her head as she visibly relaxed.  "Given what I have heard, I wasn't really expecting a sense of humor." 

The man across from her didn't appear overly concerned about discretion but in the spirit of limiting the possibility of being overheard, when Jacoba spoke again, it was in German.  "So, he did end up asking you to do the test?  He didn't tell me."  Which wasn't a surprise.  Especially lately, any conversation she'd had with her brother were almost painfully superficial.  "I got the impression from Johann you wouldn't be thrilled.  He seemed legitimately terrified about asking.  All things considered, I'm not sure it could have been anyone's best moment." 

"I think he assumes it's supposed to be a secret.  I knew who you were from before.  I - "  Jacoba hesitated a moment and then rummaged in her bag for a leather pouch.  From between the pages of her passport, she pulled out a couple of warn photographs.  They were of a somewhat younger version of the man across from her- in each of them, the man seemed to not regard the camera at all.  It wasn't until very recently that Jacoba had pieced together why.  They'd likely been taken with a disposable camera - to one unfamiliar with the muggle world, the small cardboard box would have looked nothing like a camera. 

Jacoba handed them across the table.  "I don't even know if you knew she took these.  I found them years before I was kicked out.  I kept them, just in case my brother ever got curious.  Never had a name."  The younger version of the face across from her had already become familiar long before her brother even knew he was illegitimate.  "It is very good to finally meet you, too.  It has been at least twelve since I found those." 

Questions.  She had plenty.  And, why she felt a sudden spike of nerves, she couldn't say.  Uncharacteristically, it took her a moment to find her words.  "I don't want to pry too much.  I know this all has little to do with me."  Between the man across from her and his professor, her brother was getting a new and ever expanding chance at family.  One he needed and deserved but one that seemed to involve her less and less.  But, aside from being her brother's father, the man across from her was also her last connection to her mother. 

There were, of course, a plethora of questions that came to mind.  The first - the one that stood out the most was probably not what the man expected.  "Was she - my mother happy?"

It came with some surprise that Jacoba didn't know much about the events of October 15th. For whatever reason, he had thought that telling a sister, the last person you knew shared flesh and blood outside of recent discovery, would be an obvious move. Oh dear.

"I got the impression from Johann you wouldn't be thrilled.  He seemed legitimately terrified about asking.  All things considered, I'm not sure it could have been anyone's best moment."

Yes, that sounded like Johann. He had been skittish the night he'd been there in October. If Tapendra hadn't been there to intervene, he'd probably have smacked a fist into his cousin's face in revenge - he'd been so livid, that sort of physical jolt had been the kind of violence his hands had wanted to inflict at the moment his anger had peaked.

"I think he assumes it's supposed to be a secret.  I knew who you were from before.  I - "

Ignan put his pint down and peered with curiosity across at his drinking partner. Photographs! But, ones that didn't move. How quaint.

The wizard held out his hand gently to inspect them better, recognising with a jolt that it was a photograph of him[1].  

"These are Muggle photographs?" Ignan asked softly, his brow furrowed as he examined how they were put together. She'd taken photographs of him, and he'd not even realised.

"I don't even know if you knew she took these.  I found them years before I was kicked out.  I kept them, just in case my brother ever got curious.  Never had a name. It is very good to finally meet you, too.  It has been at least twelve since I found those."

He was surprised at that, that was for sure. Tilting them in the light of the pub he marvelled at how they didn't move. It was him, a decade and a half or so ago, trapped in film. He'd not even got many photos of himself at that age...

"I don't want to pry too much.  I know this all has little to do with me. Was she - my mother happy?"

Ignan's expression softened and his fingertips briefly touched his lips in surprise at the query.
"Happy?" Ignan asked, the feelings of guilt were running back to him for knowing her so little. If only he'd been there for longer - stayed there - but would it have made a difference? Would she have been able to contact him, being a Muggle? Would he have felt safe to go back there after finding out she was married?

"In the brief time I knew her…" He struggled to find the words in front of Jacoba. He'd planned so many different explanations, so many angles to explaining things. Really, there was nothing noble about the way it had occurred at all. Dragging it back up was difficult, especially since he'd managed to forget so much in the years. He hated himself for forgetting.

"I won't lie, Jacoba. I can't really say for sure if she was 'happy' in her life entirely. I didn't know she was married, if I had, I wouldn't have let the moment result in what did. I had great respect for her. I wasn't in the best of shapes when she came across me by chance, so I wasn't in a state to complain with her intervention. She seemed pleased, or duty bound to help." The Professor's gaze had slipped to staring somewhere between their two pint glasses.
"I like to think I made her happy, although briefly. Some different company, comfort that night. I .. I wish I knew more of her. I wish I could have been more thoughtful to ask things of her." 

1.	possible reference photo of age/rough appearance

The young woman watched with unconcealed curiosity as the older man regarded the pictures.  There was an odd sense of closure or, at least, a strange satisfaction in seeing the photos back where they started.  Much like the last scene in Cast Away where the shipwrecked fellow finally got the package home to where it was supposed to go. 

But, Jacoba's curious expression turned apologetic as Ignan seemed to stumble over her question.  In hindsight, perhaps, it had been an unfair one.  Especially as a first inquiry. 

"I'm sorry," she offered, wrapping her fingers around the glass of beer.  "That wasn't a fair question, was it?  And, given the evidence - happy wives don't usually have affairs, do they?"  Jacoba had always assumed that was the case.  If her mother had ever offered her own explanation, Sasha was the only possible living witness to it.  "I'm glad - relieved, even, that it sounds like she was happy then.  I wish-"  Jacoba shook her head and lifted her glass to take a drink.

After setting her glass back down on the napkin, Jacoba looked up across the table at the man, shaking her head sympathetically.  "You have nothing to be apologetic for.  At least to me," Jacoba insisted.  With a slight chuckle, she added: "I think most of us would have considerably different lives if we knew the results of our actions ahead of time.  But - as they say, hindsight is twenty twenty.  Or, maybe you don't have that saying." 

"I wasn't in the best of shapes when she came across me by chance, so I wasn't in a state to complain with her intervention. She seemed pleased, or duty bound to help."

"So, that's what happened?" Jacoba asked, steering her own questions back to ones Ignan was probably better prepared for.  "She saw you needed help and did so?   A complete stranger?  And, then, the obvious.  It's just so ... not like the person I knew.  It took me some time to even believe it happened in the first place." 

"So, that's what happened? She saw you needed help and did so?   A complete stranger?  And, then, the obvious.  It's just so ... not like the person I knew.  It took me some time to even believe it happened in the first place."

"Shall we put it this way, I agree with you about the 'believe it happened' part." Ignan replied quickly, fingers trailing around the edge of his pint. "Until you brother presented indisputable proof with the potion, I'd have considered it all completely irregular and far fetched." The Professor raised his drink again and sipped, contemplating how to explain more exactly the events.

"My understanding of the events, are this." He looked up to Jacoba and fixed her with a level stare, "I got into a fight, for reasons unrelated to your mother, disapparated, without much thought. It very lucky I didn't splinch myself in the process - er -"

He remembered Jacoba might not be familiar with the term, so he clarified, flipping a hand gently in gesture of batting away the minor explanation,
"Where one appears and disappears, but if not concentrating, parts of one can be severed in the process, having done that twice in a lifetime no less, I can confirm its bloody and painful."

"Anyhow," He spoke more firmly, "I was injured, and needed shelter to lie low for a while. I persuaded your mother to help when she discovered me by chance. I doubt she was out looking for a wizard covered in blood to appear out of nowhere. Initially, it was just to get me somewhere other than the street, and then get me to some sort of healer, but that would have caused complications over who I was, and I don't trust Muggle healers at the best of times."

Another sip of the pint, and he considered,
"I patched up - I might have had a hand in healing my own injuries when left alone. The blood was from a head injury, they always look worse for the quantity they produce." The older man gestured to the side of his head, where beneath his white hair there had once been a gash from that day. "I..." Ignan gave a look of disapproval. "I believe I must have seduced your mother. But not against her will, or with magic. At the time I had rather a habit of doing so, and because she was a Muggle, and I couldn't draw my wand, your brother apparently came about."

The Deputy Headmaster, shameful, put his head between his hands and rubbed the sides of his face by his temples. Colour had risen to his cheeks.
"Merlin, I feel awful for the circumstances. I am so very sorry, Jacoba."

"I'm sure it was quite a bit of a shock," Jacoba agreed with a soft smile.  Life, reality even, had a way of developing a sort of fixed state.  A way it was supposed to be.  The absence or presence of kids.  Or magic.  Or, a specific home.  Something so fundamental and basic that one didn't really give it much thought.  It was negligible background noise until it changed. 

As the story unfolded, Jacoba's gaze dropped slowly to her beer glass as a small, sad, though earnest, smile settled on her features.  It was an outward expression of the inner mixture of emotions.  Grief, relief and something a bit harder to identify.  "Go, mom," Jacoba said, quietly, her grin broadening, at one point when Ignan paused for a breath. 

She, otherwise, remained quiet until Ignan dropped his head between his hands and offered an apology. 

Again, Jacoba's initial impulse was to shrug off and dismiss the apology.  It wasn't as if the man had consciously done anything wrong - nothing that he could have known about, at least.  Especially not to her.  Besides, if the events hadn't resulted in what they had, they wouldn't be here today.  If her mother hadn't become pregnant, likely no one would have ever found out. 

The young woman reached out, resting a hand on Ignan's arm.  For a moment, she couldn't help but wonder how reminiscent this was of her mother.  At least it wasn't Anna - Jacoba's youngest sibling had been almost the spitting image of her mother. 

"I'm glad to have my brother," Jacoba pointed out, firmly.  "Without him, I would have been pretty lonely.  We were pretty close growing up."  More so than now, it seemed.  Jacoba still hadn't been able to put a finger on what the difference was - or what had caused it. 

"Besides, I'm not really the one to have any reason to be -"  Jacoba's voice trailed off.  No, the man wasn't her father but to say it hadn't impacted her life was a pretty big flat out lie.  It had, pretty significantly.  Jacoba sighed and dropped her hand, leaning back in her seat.  "At least, it means he still has something though.  I mean, a fallback family?  Given-I don't know.  I don't really know where things stand between you two."

It came as a bit of a surprise that Jacoba reached out and rested a hand on his arm, but Ignan's expression changed a little from uncomfortable apology to appreciation.

"I'm glad to have my brother," The woman across the table from him assured Ignan. "Without him, I would have been pretty lonely.  We were pretty close growing up." That was heartening to hear. He knew so very little of Sasha's family life, they had quite a lot to talk about, when, or if the time was ever right.

"Besides, I'm not really the one to have any reason to be -" She stopped, dropped her hand from him and sat back. Ignan sat up a little straighter and looked curious.

"At least, it means he still has something though.  I mean, a fallback family?  Given-I don't know.  I don't really know where things stand between you two."

"Neither do I, very well." Ignan confessed. "Reason to be what, sorry? Please don't feel the need to be polite, I anticipate this whole discovery hasn't been easy." He raised his pint and took a sip, thinking about what to say.

"Fallback family, yes, I suppose I can offer that. He's rather fond of my cousin, Johann, he's," Ignan narrowed his eyes a moment and hazarded a quick estimate, "probably closer to your age, but they knew each other before then through the Ministry." The Professor shuffled his pint slightly, holding the base of the glass between his fingertips, gliding it across the table top on its condensation.

"We're all finding our feet. I am cautious to announce things to the wider family. It'll only bring unwanted attention, and my relatives are the traditional sort. Not that I am afraid or ashamed, just that the situation between us is fragile, and I'll do what I can to protect it... Sasha and by extension, you too."

"Reason to be what, sorry? Please don't feel the need to be polite, I anticipate this whole discovery hasn't been easy."

The young woman lifted a hand, waved it vaguely as she considered how to formulate her thoughts into words.  "Reason to be bothered by the affair," Jacoba elaborated, lowering her hand to her glass, again.  "Which, I suppose, is only superficially true.  Or, simply, minimal in comparison - I wasn't around for most of it, when the secret got out.  Just the very beginning." 

Jacoba nodded, offering a sympathetic smile.  'Not knowing' and 'still finding their feet' seemed to be about on par for the situation.  Most people had years to figure out familial dynamics - the first few taking place during a convenient stretch when one of the individuals could neither talk nor walk. 

"He's rather fond of my cousin, Johann, he's probably closer to your age, but they knew each other before then through the Ministry."

The young woman grinned, nodding slightly.  "I've noticed.  I think it's good.  Until recently, the only male figures he's had have been my father and our barnhand.  No cousins to speak of and, obviously, no brothers.  I have to admit, from the outside, it has been tempting to try to spot the family resemblances.  See if I can spot all those little quirks that I know didn't come from our side of the family.  It has been interesting." 

"So, I've interrogated you a fair bit; I suppose turnaround is only fair.  You mentioned earlier you may have questions?"

"I've noticed.  I think it's good.  Until recently, the only male figures he's had have been my father and our barnhand.  No cousins to speak of and, obviously, no brothers.  I have to admit, from the outside, it has been tempting to try to spot the family resemblances.  See if I can spot all those little quirks that I know didn't come from our side of the family.  It has been interesting."

Ignan nodded at that thought, he'd wondered about family resemblances too.

"Of course, I quite forgot the two of you met, before this all unravelled." He added quietly but moved on. 

"So, I've interrogated you a fair bit; I suppose turnaround is only fair.  You mentioned earlier you may have questions?"

"Yes. In time I'll place to them to Sasha too, but I suspect most of the events around his arrival are not amongst his memories due to his age. What was life like, for you all? Childhood, what was he... like?" He sounded awkward in his phrasing and shook his head, "Apologies, its just, I suppose most fathers get to see all that, and I'm a rather late entry. I suppose I can't help but wonder, what if?" He shrugged and raised his pint rather glumly, listening.

"What if you'd known from the beginning?"  Jacoba finished the sentence in the direction she assumed he was going.  She regarded the man across from her, curiously, for a few moments.  She knew little about the man, apart from what little Sasha had told her and what she'd observed in the last few minutes.  Neither provided enough information to be able to guess what a man would have been like as a father but it was hard to imagine it could have been worse. 

"I don't really know how such matters work between the wizarding and muggle worlds."  Jacoba set her glass on her napkin and leaned back against her chair.  "But, there was no chance you would have been allowed in the picture; my brother was forbidden from telling anyone my father was not his father.  My grandparents didn't even know.  Unless you would have ... it would have made things worse.  Oh..."  Jacoba shook her head, trying to imagine it.  Her father would have fought desperately to continue to keep the affair secret and Sasha would have been stuck in the middle.  "It's probably for the best he found you after they were gone." 

Their childhood.  She shrugged, slightly.  "My father was the defining force in our family.  He was pretty unforgiving and impossible to please.  And, had a pretty significant anger streak.  It was all about reputation and if you did anything to potentially mar it then, God help you.  He kicked me out when I was thirteen." 

"To be honest, I didn't know my brother much growing up.  They sent us to different boarding school as soon as we were old enough.  I was off before Sasha was walking.  I only saw him at holidays, assuming he wasn't off with whatever my father had him scheduled to do.  But, from what I remember, he wasn't that different.  Reserved.  Careful.  Hiding.  But, he had to be."

Jacoba grimaced apologetically and shook her head.  "I'm sorry.  I know it's probably not what you were hoping to hear." 

He listened with widening eyes and a sinking heart. No wonder the boy was how he was.

"No, not quite as I anticipated." The Professor confirmed to the woman sat with him. "I suppose I hoped upon him a happier childhood, so I wouldn't feel so terrible for the mess." His eyes fell to his hand around the pint glass with dismay.

"You're right, I wouldn't have been able to be there, back then. Not only would it have torn apart a family, I wouldn't have been a very good father at that time in my life. I didn't have a permanent home, I moved about a lot, and the last thing on my mind would have been a child." Meeting Jacoba's gaze, he added, "Not like I can do anything about the past, anyhow, you just wonder about these things. Thank you for telling me, that cannot have been entirely pleasant to recount."

What to do? This was turning out rather more depressing than he had ever thought it would.
"What about you?" Ignan asked, suddenly, "You're without parents, he's the only near family you have, isn't he? Is there anything I might be able to help, to help you both?"

Jacoba shrugged and shook her head, apologetically.  The young woman leaned forward, again, and lifted her glass. 

"Like I said," she added between sips.  "I didn't see my brother a whole lot growing up.  And, he was a lot better at appeasing my father than I was.  It might not have been quite as bad.  I don't think..."  Her voice trailed off and she shook her head.  The sad truth was, she just didn't know.  They had been as close as they could be, given the circumstances growing up - closer, certainly, than Jacoba had been with her parents or younger sister. 

Jacoba cleared her throat and took another drink. 

What about her?  Jacoba blinked in obvious surprise as she set her glass back down.  She shrugged, not entirely sure what he was asking.  She still hadn't quite figured out where she fit into all the recent developments as far as her brother was concerned.  She was mostly trying to hold on, stubbornly, to whatever place she did have.

"Near or far, he's it," Jacoba corrected.  "Both of my parents were only children.  For me, there's just him." 

Slowly, Jacoba shrugged and shook her head.  "You're certainly not under any obligation, you know.  Especially not as far as I'm concerned.  I'm just ...  I'm just trying not to lose him to this world completely?  Though, lately, he's seemed more distant then before."  Which, Jacoba had always accepted was largely her doing - she just couldn't shake the feeling there was something more. 

"I feel like my brother needs ... I don't know.  I feel like I should be doing more, myself.  I think he needs help, but I don't know what."

Jacoba glanced curiously at the man across from her.  "Out of curiosity, what are you wanting in all of this?" 

Ignan nodded when she told him he was under no obligation, he knew this, but he still couldn't help feeling that he had to accept not only Sasha into his life, but his remaining relative, sat with him.

"I feel like my brother needs ... I don't know.  I feel like I should be doing more, myself.  I think he needs help, but I don't know what."

"Help?" Ignan queried. That sort of phrase was generally associated for him with the likes of Maiko, who talked to students of their feelings. He didn't deal with feelings, it wasn't what he was good at. He dealt with curses, dark magic, staying alive, immediate troubles.

"Out of curiosity, what are you wanting in all of this?"

The older man inhaled, his shoulders sinking, and for a moment he looked rather lost at sea. Perhaps best to speak openly with the woman, she was about the best person at present. Even if she professed to not knowing Sasha as well as she would like, she still knew him, and also shared his blood.

"I, I'm not sure. I don't expect anything out of it, if I'm honest. But, I feel I need to do right to address things, and acknowledge my role in his life." Ignan explained, "Its up to him how big a part I play, though its a concept we've both been struggling with. He feels obliged to allow me to dictate that, and vice-versa. If he decided he wanted nothing to do with me, I'd accept it, but perhaps, if I'm honest, it might hurt to know I had a part to play in bringing him into the world, and he travels it without wanting to know me." He rubbed the point of his chin thoughtfully.

"I'm not expecting him to call me Father and move in with me. For one, I don't actually own a home, and I don't think he could." He sighed and shook his head.

"I am sure we'll work it out along the way, but, when you say help, what do you mean?"

"He feels obliged to allow me to dictate that, and vice-versa. If he decided he wanted nothing to do with me, I'd accept it, but perhaps, if I'm honest, it might hurt to know I had a part to play in bringing him into the world, and he travels it without wanting to know me."

Despite the gravity of the conversation, Jacoba grinned slightly and chuckled.  Drumming the table with her fingers in thought, she shook her head and leaned on her arms against the table.  "I think you two are more alike than you realize.  I'm sure that's not helping matters much." 

As the muggle took a deep breath, her fingers came to a rest.  "I assume you're telling me this because you're looking for some advice?  If I were you, I'd tell him that.  I suspect he doesn't-"  Jacoba hesitated, well aware she wasn't sure how her brother would feel about this conversation.  She knew this was probably important for the man across from her to know and it was unlikely her brother would be as forthcoming.  "We had our roles pretty well dictated and questioning authority usually didn't go over well.  I wouldn't be surprised if it hasn't occurred to him he has a say in the matter.  But -"  Jacoba shrugged.     

"He didn't tell me the results of the test but he did talk to me about it over the summer.  After Johann had ruled me out of the genetic mix and he was trying to decide what to do next.  The way he'd talked about it, it sounded like he'd been hoping to find his father for some time.  And, in the end, it was important enough for him to risk coming to ask you.  Given his usual deference towards authority figures, I wouldn't underestimate the gesture." 

Jacoba sighed, frowning slightly in thought.  She shook her head.  "I don't recall him calling my father anything but Sir." 

"I am sure we'll work it out along the way, but, when you say help, what do you mean?"

Jacoba closed her eyes, trying to desperately find information that would be of any use but with a sigh and a shake of her head, she came up blank.  "I don't know," she admitted, shaking her head in frustration.  "I wish I could offer something more concrete.  For all I know, I'm seeing what's not there.  Growing up, it was hard to really be close but when we were together, we at least shared stuff.  He's never been a very expressive but, as of late he just seems more shut off.  Have you ever gotten the feeling someone's trying a bit too hard to seem fine?"