Kohaku had always loved the snow. His ears were tucked under a dark blue winter cap and burgundy jacket to stay nice and warm. He was properly decked out to play in the snow with the dogs. Maslow loved the snow-- he liked to roll in it and chase snowballs even though they fell apart in his mouth every time. Crêpe, on the other hand, was a tiny little thing. They had picked her up yesterday afternoon, and she was adjusting to all the changes in her life.

His sister had stressed the importance of socializing the puppy early with other people and dogs. She also stressed the importance of making sure that he didn't let the puppy off the leash, as if he didn't know how to handle an untrained dog.

Crêpe whimpered and whined anytime her paws touched the snow. He felt like a complete idiot, with a shiba inu stuffed in a pink sweater tucked under his arm as he tried to throw snowballs for Maslow, who grunted and groaned anytime Kohaku wasn't throwing them fast enough. Crêpe was making little crying noises every time he jostled her in a way that she disapproved of-- which meant that the crying was a steady stream.

Between the two dogs, he couldn't win. Despite that, he was still having a good time.

Baldur trotted down the trail a few paces ahead, a stick he'd requisitioned a few miles back held firmly in his mouth.  He'd taken ownership of some unspoken duty to escort the stick through Hyde Park with his usual tenacity.  Sasha couldn't help but wonder if, in some way, the shepherd assumed they were all partnered in this task.  Did Baldur see Sasha and Wobias as some sort of mounted rear guard, whose noble sworn task was to see the stick safely to its destination? 

Whatever the dog's perspective of his world might be, it was Baldur's place in the vanguard that allowed him to be the first to hear the puppy's cries of dismay and notice the blundering mass of fur that bounded after unobtainable balls.  Those distractions seemed to be important enough to dismiss them from their current duty.  Baldur unceremoniously dropped the stick and started trotting towards the other young man and the puppy before changing tacks and bounded across the snow towards the larger, second dog.  It was only when Baldur play bowed in front of the other dog and flopped on his back that Sasha realized the other dog was familiar. 

"Maslow?"  Sasha called, drawing Wobias up to stand still.  He thought he saw a glimmer of name recognition before Baldur distracted the larger dog.  Sasha glanced around, looking for a familiar human to go along with the shaggy dog.  There were no obvious candidates.  Sasha turned back to the other young man.  "I apologize for the intrusion.  I think my dog believes he recognizes yours.  He looks a lot like one that ..."  Cue the ever awkward moment of discussing Hogwarts without discussing Hogwarts.  "...visits our school."  He urged Wobias to take a few more steps forward, but stopped him again when the puppy seemed torn between running away and towards the horse at the same time. 

Maslow had found a friend, a german shepherd. They were playing nicely-- or well, as nicely as two dogs played. It was clear by their interactions that they recognized each other. Strange-- Kohaku couldn't recall Maslow having any german shepherds as play dates. Perhaps it was a dog that Maslow met when Maiko took him out on walks. Crêpe whined, wanting to play with them-- but she was tiny and they were large dogs. He was worried that she would get hurt or that she would get distracted and run away. He had heard that Shiba Inus had a strong prey drive.

He heard someone call out his dog's name. Clearly, this was someone his sister must have known.

As much as his sister liked horses, Kohaku doubted that she knew any horse enthusiasts.

"I apologize for the intrusion.  I think my dog believes he recognizes yours.  He looks a lot like one that ..."


Kohaku waited.

"Visits our school."

Kohaku looked at Sasha carefully. "My sister takes her dog to work sometimes. When the holiday is over, she'll be bringing this one too." He shook the shiba a bit and she whimpered. "What's your name?" He didn't want to admit that Maiko worked at Hogwarts, unless he was certain this person did too. Maybe the name would be familiar to him. "My name is Kohaku Yukawa."

Sasha arched an eyebrow and pursed his lips.  All of the details were consistent.  Even the name sounded familiar.  Yukawa.  Wasn't that Ms. Biladeau's other name?  Well, not other name as if it was an alternative.  Other name as in the part of the name Sasha had a habit of ignoring.  When Sasha had first met the counselor, Biladeau had been so much easier for him to pronounce.  He was now regretting that laziness.

Not to mention, how likely was it there was another business out there that had a staff member who brought a dog that looked like Maslow? 

"My name's Sasha.  Sasha Schlagenweit.  And, that there's Baldur."  Sasha pointed in the direction of the German Shepherd, who seemed to have suddenly remembered the abandoned stick.  He bounded back towards the trail to retrieve the treasured tree limb before dashing back to present it, proudly, to the other dog. 

The Ravenclaw glanced at the wiggling puppy and grinned.  If that little wiggly thing was coming to Hogwarts, there were going to be some very dismayed cats.  If, indeed, this mysterious sister was Ms. Biladeau...wait.  Hadn't Abby mentioned something about meeting Ms. Biladeau's brother? 

"Do you happen to know an Abby Reid?"  Sasha asked, realizing that was the safer route to confirming identity.  "Abnormally peppy blond.  About so high."  Sasha bent over the saddle to try and indicate a height that came barely up to his horse's shoulder.  "Maybe with a recent fascination for social media?" 

Kohaku glanced at Baldur and Maslow before looking back at the other dog owner with a half-smile.

"Sasha." He wasn't even going to try to pronounce the last name. Shhhl. Shlog. Scholgen something. Kohaku shrugged. Why Sasha felt the need to introduce himself like some sort character from a movie was beyond him. Sasha Schloghenenwnet. Private Eye. Still, the ridiculous name was familiar. He could have sworn that his neighbor, Abby, had mentioned a Sasha.

"Do you happen to know an Abby Reid?

He nodded in confirmation, "She lives across the street from me. She sends me texts like, 'OMG EGGS FOR BREAKFAST' and 'LOOK FACES' followed by every emoji imaginable." Kohaku shook his head. That girl was so ridiculous sometimes. However, he grew up with Maiko and he knew just how to deal with ridiculous people.

"And, some made up ones," Sasha added, with a grin. Abby had taken to the "real", legitimate emojis right away - the ones with actual round yellow faces. The old-school ones, composed entirely of letters and punctuation marks, had take a little bit more explanation. But, once she'd figured them out, it was as if a whole new world had opened up and Sasha had started getting some very abstract and barely recognizable versions. Like 'the unicorn': <{B }∞.

Sasha also remembered Abby mentioning something about Ms. Biladeau moving in across the street; the other young man's mutual familiarity with the ever optimistic squib confirmed Sasha's suspicions.

"You're Ms. Biladeau's brother." It was a statement more than a question. And, that was Maslow frolicking with the German Shepherd. If dogs could talk, Baldur would probably be telling them I told you so. "I go to your sister's school. Though, I suspect you may have guessed that by now.  I didn’t realize she had a brother.”  And, he didn’t remember seeing Kohaku at Hogwarts, though that might have been due to age difference. 

He shook his head at the mention of made up emojis. Abby certainly was... Creative. That much was certain.

"I am Miss Biladeau's brother." The word felt foreign on his tongue, "She prefers Yukawa though, if you're going to choose one name over the other." Kohaku suggested, "She's too nice to tell you otherwise." There was some bad blood on the Biladeau side of the family, old wounds that he suspected would never heal. He wasn't a Biladeau-- that was part of the problem. There was more to it, but frankly he did not like that side of the family one bit.

"Really? You didn't realize?" Kohaku's eyebrows quirked up in surprise, "But I'm her favorite brother." Her only brother. And he knew that she was ridiculously proud of him. Could be because he was a squib. A very muggley squib. It was complicated, and he didn't feel like explaining it to a stranger who may or may not be... What was the word? Purist?  He also figured that Maiko probably didn't share much of her personal life with the students. Wasn't it a counselor's job to listen instead of spilling their own emotions?

"I'm sorry that you have been exposed to my sister and whatever she has traumatized you with." He teased, adjusting the dog in his arms so that she would be more comfortable.

Sasha thought back to his conversations with Ms. Bila…or, rather, Ms. Yukawa and shook his head.  Though he’d often been distracted during those conversations, he still didn’t remember her mentioning a brother.  Naturally, the conversations had generally steered clear of her personal life, so it wasn’t surprising. 

“She doesn’t seem like one to choose favorites,” he offered, grinning.  “You must have exceptional qualities as a brother to warrant such a title.  Other than constantly trying to feed me, there hasn’t been too much trauma.”  That was, of course, not entirely accurate but probably as much as Kohaku needed to know. 

Not to mention, at the moment, Sasha was more interested in the brother than the sister. 

“What do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?”  Sasha knew he hadn’t seen the young man around school, which could be due to age or magical ability. 

"Ah, you aren't special." Kohaku assured Sasha, "She tries to feed everyone. It's in her nature. It's how she shows that she cares. Just watch, if you upset her, suddenly you don't have pastries to eat anymore." She'd still make them of course-- and if they asked, Kohaku suspected she'd still give them a pastry... But it certainly wouldn't be offered.

Crepe screamed as soon as her feet touched the snow, so he quickly scrambled to pick her back up. Jesus Christ, the dog was annoying.

“What do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?

Kohaku grinned deviously. "Pretty men, mostly." He replied, "Sometimes not so pretty men." He scratched the pup behind her ears, "If you're asking what I do for work, I'm a year two student at Imperial." He said, "Studying medicine. Sometimes I coach football."

There were many who might say Sasha could be dense, especially when conversations turned to certain types of topics.  Sasha preferred to see it less as being dense and more as being less inclined to have his mind immediately go to those kinds of topics.  He'd call it an affinity towards more sophisticated material, if he was foolish enough to voice his opinions out loud.  Really, though, he was just dense.

"Pretty men, mostly.  Sometimes not so pretty men."

"You're an artist?"  Sasha asked with a surprise grin, his mind circumventing the obvious conclusion with the dexterity of a gazelle leaping over a log. 

"If you're asking what I do for work, I'm a year two student at Imperial.  Studying medicine. Sometimes I coach football."

Sasha blinked as he offered a confused, "Oh."  The confusion was followed swiftly by a suspicious, "oh?" before finally metamorphosing into a surprised "Oh!"  The warmth the spread across his cheeks was especially prominent against the cold, winter air and Sasha quickly dropped his gaze to his horse's neck to busy himself with settling the stallion.  An entirely unnecessary act, given the stallion had all but dozed off during the last few minutes. 

"You're-"  Sasha hesitated, the question he wanted to ask poised on the tip of his tongue.  "You play football?" came the safer question.  "I used to play all the time.  There's not as much opportunity at school, unfortunately.  I'm on the house team, but quidditch isn't the same.  And, few there really get that.  There was almost no one to talk world cup with." 

This Sasha guy was so beautifully oblivious. Innocent.

"No, I'm not an artist, not in the way you're thinking." He smirked.

Kohaku got the urge to destroy that innocence.

It took a while-- a little longer than it would take most men their age, but Sasha finally understood. And skirted the topic. In the closet? Or just a bit homophobic and uncomfortable? Both. Probably both. It was usually both. Now, how deep in the closet was Sasha? Was he up front, easy to find-- or was he so in the closet you'd have to uncover next year's Christmas presents?

"I play football." Kohaku confirmed, "Attacking midfielder. Or forward." A defender he was not. "Quidditch looks fun." He offered, "Quodpot too. I play in a fantasy league with a couple of my sister's friends." But football was something he could actually play.

"Of course there's opportunity to play football." Kohaku raised his eyebrows, "Just teach it. People can't play if they haven't been given the opportunity to learn." Getting them to watch the world cup, however, would be difficult. Technology and magic did not mix. There were seven broken microwaves that attested to that. "What position in quidditch do you play?" 

Sasha was more than a little relieved to have the conversation topic remain on football and the relief probably found its way to his expression.  Gradually, the color faded from his face and he stopped needlessly fidgeting with Wobias' reins. 

"I have tried to teach a few," Sasha admitted.  "A handful of us muggleborns would get together and scrimmage.  Occasionally, curious bystanders would try to join in."  Then, his fifth year had happened.  "Things get busy and they fall to the side.  Studies have pretty much taken over."  While studies had been a major contributing factor, they weren't the whole story.  Kohaku didn't need to know those details, of course.  Though, Kronos would likely approve of Kohaku. 

Not that ... why was he even thinking that?  Sasha quickly shook his head as he blushed, again, putting his mind back on football.

Yes.  Football.  "Who do you coach?" Sasha asked.

"In quidditch, I started out playing Keeper than moved into Chaser.  It's similar enough to polo positions that it was an easy fit.  Admittedly, I'm better at Keeper, though."  As a rule, positions that allowed for some degree of strategizing were always a better match.   

So he had tried. Judging by his tone, it wasn't something that continued. Sad. Kohaku wondered how often Muggleborns completely strayed away from their muggle upbringing. Maiko didn't. She still enjoyed plenty of normal things and could do without magic, except in the case of her health. Wizarding medicine seemed to be better for her. However, Kohaku believed that normal medicine had its place, and as long as the worlds remained separated, there would still be a need for those who were going into his profession.

"I coach children. Five to eight year olds, usually." Kids around the same age he was when he had started playing. He enjoyed watching them build their skills and become more creative with their approach when playing competitively.

He rubbed the back of his neck, it was beginning to get sore from having to look up to communicate. Is this how short people felt all the time?

"So, are you going to stay on that horse or..?"

Sasha grinned.  So, he liked kids.  Sasha wasn't sure why that surprised him, but it did.  In a good way, though.  "That sounds like fun," he admitted.  Maybe he should look into coaching kid's polo.  Or, something.  Riding lessons.  Riding lessons!  That was definitely something he could do, once he was back from Hogwarts and settled in.  Wherever that happened to be.

But, of course, he was being somewhat rude.  When the other young man pointed it out, Sasha glanced down at Wobias' back and grinned.  "Oh, no.  I'm sorry about that."  Sasha swung down off of the horse's back, his boots crunching in the thin layer of snow on the trail.  The cold bit through his leggings once they no longer had the horse's side for warmth. 

"How did you get into studying medicine?  I presume it's muggle medicine, unless St. Mungo's has a secret training wing at Imperial?"  Sasha grinned.  Of course, that was unlikely.  St. Mungo's typically didn't think enough of muggle medicine for something like that to be likely.  "Do you have a specialty in mind?"

Kohaku cocked his head at Sasha, better able to get a look at him from a completely different angle. Now, it felt like they could actually have a conversation.

"Well, I've always been interested in medicine, in how doctors help people." He explained. "My sister's been in and out of hospital for as long as I can remember, her mum too. Me, I've spent more than my fair share as well." He had leukemia as a child-- he had completed all the treatments (Muggle, of course) and was in remission. Still, he was constantly wary of suspicious bruises, aching joints. They were rare, but when he experienced them unexpectedly, it made him anxious.

"Clearly, my family is a portrait of perfect health." The laugh he let out was a brittle one.  "But, anyway... The specialty I have in mind is oncology." He paused, unsure of whether to share. Then he figured-- it was an accomplishment, why not share? "I've been in remission for eight years now." 

The pup made a whimpering sound, eager to join the bigger dogs. Kohaku wasn't so sure he wanted her to run off, in case she escaped.

"What about you? What are you going to do after... School?" What did wizards do, anyway? He was aware of several different occupations, it seemed that government jobs were common.