“Da' they HATE that brand! You can buy as much as you want but it won't change anything.” Angus McBoid was a very stubborn man, and his daughter was exactly like him in that aspect. He was insisting they change up the herd's feed a bit and while Moira didn't mind, she wasn't backing down from talking him into another choice. “All you'll be doing is wasting money we could use for bedding.”

Moira scowled up at her father as they rounded a corner. A large, tan satchel bag already have full rested on her left hip, supported by a strap on the opposite shoulder. Nothing about her, other than her age and the fact that she was Scottish and in Diagon Alley suggested she was a hogwarts student.

“Besides, aren't /you/ the one who's supposed to be teaching me on how to properly shop for needed supplies? You haven't even been looking at half the stuff you've bought, you just grab it and go expecting everything to be the same as when you shopped before.”

Needless to say she was too busy arguing with her father, who at this point had given up in even trying to argue his point, to notice the few people who were in the area, much less any possible fellow students.

It was a few days after Christmas, and a few days before the Merlin-damned Gala and its sodding meat market of a date auction. He hadn’t mentioned this terrible auction to any of the children, and had no plans to – but the sheer fact he’d been shoved towards it was enough to make every day where it grew closer weigh down on him a bit.

It was nice, then, to get out of the house and into Diagon for basic and mundane reasons – Cyhirae needed her school robes adjusted, they were out of some of the magical herbs and spices he liked using in cooking, and everyone needed new quills and notebooks. Even him.

Sasha seemed fine sticking close to him, which he didn’t mind – though after his talk with Aileen, he was slightly more conscious of how this could be interpreted, considering how public Diagon was. But there also wasn’t too much he could do at this point other than carefully ensure he was apparently only acting as an escort rather than some sort of caretaker. Cyhirae was in the robe shop, and he and Sasha had a few minutes as he looked for a shop that’d sell the herbs he needed.

As they passed by one of the many Creatures shops in the Alley, Tapendra paused, taking a step backwards. A girl and an older man stood within, the girl’s long brown hair rather easily recognizable. He looked at Sasha, tilting his head to gesture him inside.

“Miss McBoid,” he greeted, cheerfully and openly. “Good morning!” He looked up at the older man who stood next to her, eyebrow quirked politely.

Sasha trailed a half stride behind Professor Trishna, his nose already buried in the first chapter of the latest Samuel Seemore novel, The Wrath of the Labyrinth.  It was pure, 100% fluff that had no redeeming qualities what so ever.  At least, not beyond entertainment value.  Weaving through crowded Diagon Alley with his nose deep in a book only worked for one specific reason: Professor Trishna's height meant it was easy to see the man out of the corner of his eye over the edge of the book. 

Professor Trishna drew to a stop and Sasha followed suit, looking up from the book when he realized they couldn't have travelled far enough to reach the apothecary the man was looking for.  Glancing over head at the sign, Sasha scowled in confusion. 

"I don't think they have-" 

Even though this didn't seem the right place, Sasha followed Professor Trishna inside.  He followed the professor to where the man greeted another fellow and the younger Hufflepuff Sasha recognized from the lake front.  The one who'd cried against him. 

"Allo," Sasha offered to both the girl and the man, following up on Professor Trishna's greeting. 

Moira was still in the process of lecturing her father when a friendly, familiar voice called out to her. Turning to see Professor Trishna and Sasha her look of annoyed irritation smoothed out into an easy smile, an expression rarely seen on her at school and away from home. It was much better than the brooding, depressed expression she'd had for most of that month as well. "Hello."

Noting the curious looks on both men's faces she cleared her throat. "Professor, Sasha, this is my Da', Angus McBoid. Da', this is Professor Trishna, he teaches my Astronomy class. And Sasha is a fellow student at the school." What a surprise it was to meet them here, though by Sasha's expression she'd have to say he clearly didn't forget that awkward morning of the first. She couldn't blame him, it was a difficult morning for her to forget as well.

While Angus might have been stubborn, he was also very patient. Patient to wait people out anyway, and this was another of those times. Grudgingly he would admit his daughter had a point about the feed, and he'd have to try something else, but the rest of it... she'd pick it up alright. After all, look at how she lectured her dear old father about how he was shopping the 'wrong' way.

Moira seemed insistent on not stopping until a couple people walked in just to say hello it seemed. Lightly placing a hand on his daughter's shoulder he looked the two of them over. They seemed nice enough and he nodded when Moira introduced them, but she was still smiling at the two. Naturally his gaze focused on the younger of the two and narrowed just a fraction, "Is he now?"

Of course, that didn't go unnoticed by her as she was hitting and glaring at him again. Clearing his throat he reached a hand out towards Tapendra. "Pleasure to meet you." While his daughter's accent was notable, his accent was more pronounced and unquestionably Scottish.

Sasha followed him, which was good – Tapendra had been likewise keeping an eye on the boy from the corner of his eye, though Sasha was a bit easier to lose against the background of the Diagon crowds.

Moira’s almost cheerful expression surprised him – at Hogwarts the expressions he’d seen on the fourth year’s face had ranged mostly from ‘dour’ to ‘blank’ and any alternate expression had been more of a flicker than anything else.

“Good to meet you too, Mister McBoid,” he said, smiling broadly and shaking the man’s hand. He caught the slight glance the man sent at Sasha, and could understand it to a degree. There wasn’t much he could say, though, that wouldn’t seem terribly odd to just say. “Moira’s been a great student,” he added, instead, the sentence true – mostly when compared to the rest of her year. Disdainful Slytherins? Easily panicked Hufflepuffs?

He did glance at Sasha questioningly, having been unaware the two students knew each other.

Sasha let the book fall closed when Moira offered introductions.  When his turn came up, years of expectations and training kicked in and Sasha offered his own hand to the man. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Sasha offered with a polite and slightly formal dip of his head.  But, the Ravenclaw straightened, slightly, glancing questioningly in Professor Trishna's direction, when the man's gaze seemed to narrow in on him.  Prompting Moira to hit her father a few times for reasons that were completely lost on Sasha.  Did the man read the Daily Prophet?  Had Moira told him about the whole ... awkward sobbing against him thing at the lake.  Or, had rumors of Sasha leading random fourth years into the Forbidden Forest start trickling out?

Oh, how Sasha hoped not. 

But, Professor Trishna was looking at him with an expression that suggested the man knew as little as he did.  "We've met.  Briefly.  I- I'm in the NEWT level."  Pointing out he was older may or may not help. 

Everyone greeted each other, Sasha offered his hand and her dad shook it. A brief meeting wasn't fully accurate but she wasn't going to correct him because... honestly it was close enough. One session studying two-way mirrors (which she still had) and an embarrassing cry-on-his-shoulder interlude one morning out of the entire semester couldn't be called much else.

However, after he mentioned being in the NEWT level Angus bent down and whispered in her ear. For several seconds she stared slack-jawed before a strawberry colored blush began making it's way over her nose, cheeks, and even to her ears. "That's... It's... I..." Finding herself unable to form coherent words she fell back on her second best strategy. Glaring murderously at her dad.

Naturally when the boy offered his hand, Angus shook it without hesitation. He didn't care for gossip columns, true or not, as they didn't affect his life or his work. The only thing he read was market value papers, which was highly important for any kind of businessmen. Sell high, buy low. Not that everyone could afford to wait, but then others had enough money buying at an inflated rate didn't hurt them any.

Grinning when Sasha mentioned his class status he leaned down close to Moira's ear, how she ended up being shorter than her departed mother he didn't know, and whispered so only she could hear, "I didn't know you liked older boys." Seeing her reaction made it well worth it.

Laughing he shook his head and looked to the Professor as Moira continued to glare and likely plan on poisoning his dinner that night. "So what brings you to Diagon Alley? We're running low on feed and other things at the ranch so we're here to pick some up while the weather holds. Never know when it can turn nasty again."

Tapendra tried to avoid a smirk as Angus whispered to his daughter – recognizing the expressions on both of their faces far too well, even though he didn’t do that to his girls. Much. He preferred to embarrass them via his own awkwardness, which he was adept at doing unintentionally too.

The murderous glare was certainly familiar, anyway. He got it from Georgiana at least once a week.

He did look between Sasha and Moira, though. Perhaps it helped he knew both students, but he doubted Angus had anything to worry about, especially if Sasha’s crush on Abby said anything about the boy’s taste in girls. Moira could hardly have been more opposite to the chattery and extroverted Abigail.

“I’m escorting Schlagenweit here in fetching new books and supplies for the school year,” he lied easily, loosing crossing his arms in a casual manner. “And getting some grocery shopping done. Moira’s mentioned your ranch before. Are you terribly out of the way?” The fact they were in a hurry over the weather implied some distance, certainly.

This whole scene before them may have been familiar with Professor Trishna, but it certainly was not with Sasha.  For a moment, as he watched the interactions between Moira and her father, Sasha tried to imagine attempting to slap his stepfather, even in jest.  A very loud, red-faced and livid 'What in the Hell were you thinking?!' in return would have been the best case scenario and he would have considered himself lucky. 

As such, Sasha had no way of guessing the content behind the mini private conversation between daughter and father.  Though, if the glances in his direction were any indication, it obviously involved him. 

Entirely unsure what he'd done to prompt or promote the mild violence between family members, Sasha wasn't sure whether attempting to say anything would make matters better or worse.  Luckily, the man's question was directed at Professor Trishna, leaving Sasha to freely resort to tactics that had helped keep him out of conflict for years: be quiet, proper and speak only when spoken to. Why he'd abandoned that tactic in recent years, he couldn't say.  But, there was plenty of evidence that suggested it had been a mistake. 

Awkwardly, Sasha shifted the book to his other hand to free his right so it could straighten his tie and, needlessly, brush his blazer free of non-existent lint.

To give his daughter a bit of a reprieve he handed her the small leather purse with money in it and nudged her along to finish the shopping. Hearing her muttering darkly in Scottish-Gaelic had his lips twitching upwards again. He rarely got to pick on her about such things do to her antisocial behavior, though he hadn't helped much in that aspect, so he made do with what he had.

At the professor's question he had to grin. "Only as far as a fireplace can take us. We're located in the highlands of Scotland. Easiest way anywhere is apparition or flying." Along with some invisibility charms, just in case. One could never know when muggles might be wandering where they ought not to be and if they looked up to see someone riding a flying horse... well. That wouldn't end well at all.

Then, out of nowhere, Angus got an idea. "Say... if the two of you aren't busy later would you like to visit and see it? You can bring others along if you like, of course." They hardly ever got visitors. Paying customers, sure, they got some of them. But people actually visiting and looking around? It had been far too long for that.

He caught the flick of Sasha’s hand out of the corner of his eye, Tapendra’s gaze drawn to the movement. He offered Sasha a quick but assuring smile, unsure why the boy was uncomfortable but able to detect it easily enough. He had to hope Sasha and Moira’s encounter hadn’t been embarrassing or something.

Angus sent Moira away, and Tapendra’s curiosity as to the encounter between the girl and Sasha only grew when she seemed eager to depart as well. He avoided glancing at Sasha as Moira darted away, though his eyebrow did quirk in automatic response to his puzzlement.

Angus’s remark drew his attention, though, and he smiled quickly.

“Not far from Hogwarts, then. Magically speaking.” The Highlands were a big place, after all. He couldn’t help but imagine flying out there would be nippy, at best – even on the occasional broomride near Hogsmeade, the wind seemed to eat through any warming charms. Especially this time of year.

He smiled at the man’s suggestion, looking at Sasha. “The girls would like that, I’m sure,” he said. “You have a unicorn with you, don’t you? May be their only real chance to see one.”

Sasha watched as Moira moved off towards the shop counter and, then, returned his attention back towards the adults as they continued conversing.  He remembered Moira speaking of their farm back by the lake but, of course, the emotion surrounding the information and the cold had proven to overshadow the information itself.

But, Mr. McBoid was extending an invitation to visit? 

Sasha returned Professor Trishna's glance then turned to look towards Moira at the counter.  "If she, you know, wouldn't mind," Sasha offered, a little reluctantly.  They hadn't really spoken since that early morning; Sasha wasn't entirely sure what the Hufflepuff had come to think about their encounter.  Perhaps she'd appreciate the company.  Perhaps, she preferred to forget anything associated with that morning.  Her usual shy awkwardness wasn't helping clarify. 

"But ... I'm not very good at apparition," Sasha pointed out, looking again towards Professor Trishna with a shrug before grimacing apologetically towards Mr. McBoid.  "Side-along, obviously.  I - can we floo?" 

"Floo Powder transportation wouldn't be a problem, of course." Angus nodded to the younger man. "And yes, we do have a unicorn on the premises. Moira takes care of her when she's home, and I do when Moira's away at school. So anyone who wants ta see a unicorn is more than welcome."

Moira might not be too keen on the idea of so many people at the place right away but she'd come around quick enough he bet. She was always more comfortable at home. That girl knew more hiding places there than he did, and he was the one who started the ranch in the first place. "Don't worry about Moira. She's normal when she's at home, so she'll come around."

In fact, by the time Moira got back from purchasing the needed feed, she seemed to have calmed down again. At the very least she wasn't as red as a raspberry anymore.