NEWTs were six weeks away.  The seventh years were, officially, in the final push to the finish line and the end was in sight.  As an added bonus, A Levels were over a week behind him which had alleviated a considerable amount of pressure.  Until he received his results, there was nothing more Sasha could to do for his muggle education.  Either he'd been successful and he'd be starting at Cambridge in the fall or he hadn't and he'd spend the next year preparing to retake them.  Now, for the first time since he'd arrived at Hogwarts, Sasha could focus solely on his Hogwarts classes.  All 12 of them.   

He'd even gone so far as to leave all his muggle textbooks behind in Germany.  The final push towards NEWTs would keep him plenty busy. 

It was a respectable trek from the Astronomy Tower to the Ravenclaw Tower and back down to the second floor only to clamber up the stairs behind the gargoyle.  However, the note from the Headmistress had emphasized starting promptly at four o'clock so Sasha had done his best to hurry without trampling too many second years. 

Had they really been that small once?

The Ravenclaw had managed to make excellent time right up until the point of knocking on those large wooden doors to the headmistress' office.  Sasha drew up on his heels and stared at the heavy metal work.  Despite the way things turned out, Sasha had had tried to avoid trouble, so trips to the Headmaster's office had been infrequent - but generally noteworthy.  He remembered standing in front of those very doors as a new First Year - a complete novice in the wizarding world, unprepared and out of his element - as he waited to meet Professor Greyfriar to discuss, precisely, how they would keep his magical education concealed from his parents.  And, in his fifth year, he remembered waiting for Professor Snark to decide whether to expel or suspend him. 

How many times had Sasha thought it would be a miracle if he made it to NEWTs?

But, enough nostalgia.  Professor McGonagall had a schedule to keep.  Sasha took a deep breath and knocked on the door.  He held up the bit of parchment as he stepped inside, as if it was a train ticket needing to be punched.  "You wanted to see me ma'am."  Obviously.  With a sheepish grin, he shrugged.  "Something about exam schedules?"  There was only a small matter involving how to fit twelve examinations in five days. 

It couldn't be that bad, could it?

The scene unfolding in the Headmaster's Office was one Minerva was quite familiar with. First: a stack of parchment on the desk with a quill furiously scrawling Minerva's signature on the bottom of  its own accord while the elder witch sat comfortably behind the ancient wooden desk, chatting quietly with her predecessors lining the walls. Most of them had an opinion, and few of them were in agreement with Minerva on those - which suited the Headmistress just fine. This was a daily routine, one that was normally hashed out in early morning and left those portraits with unfavorable views the entire day to skulk, giving Minerva a bit of much needed silence. Today was different simply because most days were different for Minerva since she'd taken on the mantle of Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. She'd risen early to deal with some issues in London, and had only been back in her office for a few minutes - long enough to start the quill moving, yet not long enough to have silenced all her naysayers.

Second, a knock at the door and a call to enter - this was less frequent than the arguments with long past heads, though with Sasha Schlagenweit, it was almost certainly a close second. Though quick to judge, none of the paintings around the office were foolish enough to speak once the door opened - even in disagreement, they would respect the current Headmaster of the school and one day she would join them. Once the door opened and Sasha stepped through, Minerva felt that pending fate on her shoulders heavier than ever. Though Minerva had been back as headmistress for less than two full years, the man standing before her was far older than the times they'd met in the past.

She supposed that the life that Sasha had lived, even viewing from the outside, must have been difficult - to say the least. Minerva couldn't help but feel a bit put out that Ignan hadn't told her himself that he had sired Sasha - but that was personal business and the Headmistress could not allow it to color her actions. A mental shake of her head cleared those thoughts away and a small, sympethetic smile matched Sasha's sheepish one, "Welcome Mr. Schlagenweit," She said, waving toward a chair opposite the desk for the Ravenclaw to sit.

She didn't have much time, the benefit for the arts at the Royal Opera House was that evening and though Minerva was loathe to go, it was necessary. She didn't have much time, but she would make time for one of the most intelligent individuals to pass through Hogwarts' halls in the near century that Minerva had been ensconced there. "Yes indeed," she answered Sasha's question. One hand reached over to touch the quill, causing the writing instrument to stop in place and fall softly upon the desk - signature unfinished. "But first, how are you, Mr. Schlagenweit? Confident on those muggle examinations you've been so worried about?" Minerva had an army of portraits at her disposal, she heard all the news well before most people deigned to bring it to her - that was just one of the perks of being Headmistress of one of the greatest wizarding institutions. Normally Minerva would offer refreshment with one on one conversations with students not in trouble, but Minerva truly was on a time crunch and Sasha would probably have declined in any case.

The Ravenclaw took the proffered seat, his gaze sliding unintentionally over the expanse of the older witch’s desk.  The quick (noninvasive) glance revealed two cursory observations.  First: there was the usual overabundance of work on the older witch’s desk.  That was to be expected, as it had been that way during every other occasion Sasha had had to be in this office.  Sasha felt a touch of guilt for occupying some of the Headmistress’ valuable time but reminded himself she’d requested to see him.  Two: there were no baked goods on the desk.  For this, he was immensely grateful.  He never understood why Hogwarts staff were so insistent on feeding studentsh.  One day, he’d have to start carrying around a copy of Hansel & Gretel and show it to any of the witch or wizard professors that tried to feed him.

It would be an interesting test of their senses of humor, at any rate. 

Maybe after NEWTs, he’d let himself eat a little cake.  He might be able to reasons that he’d earned experiencing a sugar coma.  And, he’d have time to jog it off the next day.  Because, he’d have time. 

He’d have time.  The thought was terrifying. 

"But first, how are you, Mr. Schlagenweit? Confident on those muggle examinations you've been so worried about?”

Sasha stared at the Headmistress in surprise before glancing quickly at the portraits behind him on the wall.  He was only slightly surprised that she knew of the pending A-Levels and more surprised that, well, she cared.  He watched Professor McGonagall for a second, trying to surmise whether the question had been actual curiosity or just a passing polite formality, like offering a ‘how are you’ as you pass on the street without really expecting an answer beyond ‘good, and you?’ 

But, she seemed earnestly interested and Sasha grinned.  Sasha had grown accustomed to Hogwarts Professors not giving much regard to his muggle education, with the obvious exception of Professor Trishna.  There were so very few left in his life that really understood his accomplishment last week.  After all, even Professor Trishna had faked his A-Level results. 

“I think they went well,” he admitted.  “I felt good about the Maths.  Those are relatively easy to study from here.”  All they took were writing implements.  Of course, having use of a calculator would have been nice but there was that whole Hogwarts-frying-microchips thing.  “I would have benefited from more labs ... hands on practice with the sciences.  It would be like trying to take an Transfiguration exam without use of a wand.  But, my summer classes helped.  We’ll see if it’s enough in August.  There’s nothing more I can do now.”  Except for NEWTs.

Which was all more than she probably wanted to know.  But, he was proud of his accomplishment! 

Minerva McGonagall, one of the most powerful witches of the age, was at a loss. She truly was interested in Sasha’s well-being, though she couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to put themselves through insane muggle examinations when NEWTs were difficult enough. She also couldn’t understand why Mr. Schlagenweit didn’t just falsify his results – muggles would never assume that magic caused someone to pass.

That didn’t mean that Minerva wasn’t proud – it would have been easy to cheat, but Sasha put in the hard work and made it happen. Maths the Headmistress could understand – it resembled arithmancy, but the muggle version of magic, science always confounded the elder witch. They sure were an ingenious group of people. Labs? Minerva assumed those were something like practical tests, rather than written ones. She could be completely wrong, but then again she wasn’t the one who decided to take the tests.

A nod followed Sasha’s response, “That is good news indeed,” She said – her sympathetic smile growing to a proud one. “And we can all use a bit of good news these days,” She finished, voice trailing off toward the end. She wanted to crest the topic of his relationship with Ignan, if only to figure out how her deputy head was faring. He wasn’t exactly one to speak unnecessarily and Minerva wasn’t exactly comfortable with breaching the topic with him. Then again, it wasn’t her place to bring it up with his son either, so she let it go.

“Speaking of Transfiguration examinations,” She began, switching the conversation back to areas she could grasp and understand more comfortably, “I’m sure you understand that your NEWT exams are going to be quite difficult, and you’ve made an old woman’s job even harder with trying to figure out how to fit all twelve classes in a five day span. You’ll have very little time to study between exams which will put you at a huge disadvantage – is that something you’re prepared for?”

The Ravenclaw nodded in agreement, though he wasn't entirely sure what prompted the Headmistress' remark.  It seems they were always in need of more good news and, as of late, there were many reasons to be grateful for them.  There were more than a few potential candidates; loosing his sister followed shortly by nearly loosing his father not to mention any of the recent broader events.  "Yes, we can," Sasha agreed.  "It has been another eventful year." 

Sasha offered the older witch an apologetic grimace and shrugged, slightly.  "I don't mean to make your job harder," he offered, sincerely.  He hadn't thought about the scheduling nightmare it might be until he'd received the message to come to the office.  "I know it's going to make for a busy exam schedule.  I remember my OWLs schedule.  But it's only five days.  It'll be worth it in the end.  The alternative is dropping a class." 

He couldn't think of any alternative to withdrawing from one of the exams.  He wasn't about to throw in the towel at the last minute after all the effort he'd put through so far.  "My goal is to be done studying before the week starts.  There will be time the night before for last minute revising but that should be minimal.  I generally don't put off things to the last minute."  He wouldn't have managed this far, if that was the case.  "I'll find a way to make it work."  At least on his end.  During the next two months, he'd be able to focus entirely on NEWTs with no extraneous distractions. 

That was assuming they'd be able to schedule the exams.  Which, they must be able to do, right?  "I will be able to take them, won't I?  I'm sure it has been done before.  It must be possible."  Even if no one else was taking all the same classes, there was enough variation in the schedule that no class could be mutually exclusive.  If there were any scheduling conflicts between any of the classes, someone would be effected by it. 

Minerva waved off Sasha’s apologies for making her life more difficult. It was the same every year, scheduling conflicts with OWLs and NEWTs caused quite a few raised voices and howlers to be exchanged between Minerva and the examination committee. They suggested, every year, that Minerva put a class cap on the amount of subjects students could take and Minerva would refuse. Headmistress Minerva McGonagall would never limit the amount one could learn within her school, thank you very much.

“Yes, Mr. Schlagenweit – you’ll be able to take all of your exams. Scheduling conflicts become an issue almost every year. This one is no different. I know you are a responsible young adult, but NEWTs are as far from OWLs as a Hippogriff is to a pigeon. Which is why I requested to see you instead of just letting your head of house hand you your schedule along with your classmates.” Minerva paused to smile kindly over her glasses at Sasha. It wasn’t often that Minerva had the pleasure of meeting with a student in her office for reasons other than discipline.

“They aren’t called nastily exhausting for no reason, we tend to name things pretty aptly in the magical world,” She said, before lifting the recently discarded quill and setting it atop a fresh piece of parchment. The quill began making a table in the witch’s handwriting, labeling out every class offered at Hogwarts along with dates and times, “You will be tested on every iota of magical knowledge you’ve gained here at Hogwarts, and with such a high amount of classes – you’ll be overworked and extremely tired at the end of each day.”

“I would never advise you on dropping a class,” She continued, “but you need to be warned so that you don’t take this too lightly. Students have ended up in St. Mungo’s because of these examinations before. Crude and outdated they may be, but this is the world in which we live,”

Once the quill fell back upon the desk of its own accord, Minerva lifted the newly inked parchment, looked over it quickly, and passed it across the desk toward the Ravenclaw. “If you need help studying or knowing what to expect – my time is limited, but I am here for you,”

If any of the seventh years weren’t anticipating difficult exams, it meant they haven’t been paying attention.  Ever since the start of their sixth year, Professors have been dropping hints and reminders about the difficulty of NEWTs that ranged in subtlety from ‘you will need to know this’ to ’how can you expect to pass NEWTs with that kind of work?’  Sasha also now had the benefit of some degree of perspective.  He’d experienced the difference between GCSEs and A-Levels just a few days before, even though he knew the experience wouldn't be anywhere near the same.

Despite forewarning coming in so many manifestations, it was a bit disconcerting that Professor McGonagall wanted to provide him his exam schedule in person. 

“I’ve got a plan in place,” Sasha explained.  He started to reach for his bag to pull out his study plan but reconsidered.  The Ravenclaw had already resigned himself to more than a few all-nighter study sessions and had integrated them into the schedule.  Professor McGonagall probably didn’t need to know the extent of their regularity.  “At least for getting prepared.  As far as the week of exams, I think it’s just a take it day-by-day type thing.  The house elves are already used to me stopping by and grabbing food on the run.  I really hope to have enough done before exams start that I can just crash at the end of each day.  Is there anything else I can do to ... survive the week?”

It all sounded easy enough, now.  He took the parchment with the exam schedule and looked it over, his eyes widening slightly at the sight.  “Oi.  Looks like fun.”  He looked up and grinned and then looked back down at the parchment.  Oh, wait.  There were thirteen exams scheduled.  That's right, he was taking thirteen classes, not twelve.  What exactly was he getting himself into?  Why did he think this was a good idea, again?  “Thank you, ma’am."

“When you say students have ended up in St. Mungo’s, do you mean from the workload?  Like, they overstressed themselves and ended up fainting or something?  Or, do you mean, from the actual exams.  That the tasks they give us are dangerous - or like the tournament my fifth year?”  That had been before Professor McGonogall had returned as Headmistress, but he assumed she’d heard of it.  “I think I’ve had enough of St. Mungo’s for a while.”  Between his sister and Professor Storm, he’d be happy if he didn’t see those bright halls for some time. 

“And, if an exam does land us in St. Mungo’s, what happens to the other exams on our schedule?  Are we able to take them at another time or…do we just fail?” 

The headmistress sat back after giving Sasha his examination schedule and breathed in a deep breath. Though she didn’t want to give off the impression that this would be an elongated visit, she wasn’t as young as she once was and a moment of respite was always welcome – small as it may be. She folded her hands across her lap as Sasha spoke, giving assurances and basically acting like the Ravenclaw he’d been sorted as. A small smile crossed her lips as Schlagenweit started asking questions about what would happen if he ended up in the hospital.

“That is always handed on a case by case basis,” Professor McGonagall began, “and it always depends on the situation. Yes, some students collapse from exhaustion – that normally counts as a fail. Students injured because of their casting – also a fail. I daresay nothing will be as dangerous as the tournament, these are controlled environments,” Minerva had returned to Hogwarts partway through the Tetrawizard Tournament, taking on the reigns of Hogwarts Headmistress once more. She had been an initial supporter – though the dangers imposed were higher than Minerva felt comfortable with.

“There have been cases of students gaining permission for a re-examination. Those cases are rare.” Minerva paused long enough to fix Sasha with a kind yet persistent stare, “I suggest you stick to your plan and steer clear of St. Mungo’s, Mr. Schlagenweit. I think you’ll do fine,”

“Now, is there anything else I can do for you? Anything to make your last months here a bit more bearable?”

Her explanation about reexaminations made sense but it was most reassuring to hear the exams wouldn't be as dangerous as the tournament.  He'd survived the first task of the tournament; he could survive NEWTs.  There would be nothing but time to sleep, relax and recuperate after the term was over. 

Admittedly, part of him was excited and looking forward to NEWTs.  They were going to be a good, solid, undeniable challenge and he felt like he would be ready to meet that challenge head-on.  They were, after all, what all of them had been working for these past seven years. 

“Now, is there anything else I can do for you? Anything to make your last months here a bit more bearable?”

Sasha shook his head, glancing down at his hands.  "Short of a time turner, I'm not sure there is.  And, I'm not sure that would even help.  It doesn't change the number of hours you have to slog through."  Perhaps, it was the natural progression of things, of growing up, but it felt more and more like his challenges lay beyond Hogwarts.  Exams were now just the final formality and the last couple months the remaining obstacle to get to them. 

"I just wish the rest of life was as easy as homework and exams.  It seems like there's a whole side of life classes just don't prepare you for." 

A soft peal of genuine laughter followed Sasha’s reply. Minerva was almost surprised by the sound herself – so unexpected it had been. The headmistress covered her mouth in a girlish manner and attempted to cover the sudden mirth with a cough – only partially succeeding. “Time-turners come with great responsibility, Mr. Schlagenweit – and though I’m sure you could handle it, I’m afraid we won’t be trusting the Department of Mysteries with the safety of our children for quite some time yet,” She said, thinking not of the kidnappings, which could be pinned down to a couple of insane individuals, but of the new head of the department.

 Jacqueline Devereux had been a professor at Hogwarts once upon a time. Minerva had been against her appointment then – as a member of the Hogwarts School Board of Governors, but that had been during the leadership of Headmistress Analiza Snark. Snark’s views differed severely from Minerva’s own, but she’d been a proper leader in her own right. That did not mean, however, that the current Headmistress would trust Devereux with a shoebox – much less the safety of one of her students.

“And I’m sure you’ll find, Mr. Schlagenweit, that life outside of Hogwarts can be quite refreshing,” She said, “Or so I’m told,” she finished with a wink. Though she’d lived some years away from the castle, Hogwarts had always been Minerva’s home.

“Though you needn’t worry,” Minerva continued, “You’re a scholar – I have a feeling you’re not quite finished learning yet,”

“And you won’t have spells tossed at you daily, monsters jumping out to prepare you for anything – you may not be prepared for some aspects of your future, but no one ever is. Even I haven’t the faintest idea of where life might take me. I just took on a political position,” The word was dropped with distaste, political. “Life is always a little scary,” perhaps telling a young adult that life was always unexpected wasn’t the best idea – but Minerva believed firmly in telling students the truth, even when said truth wasn’t always what they wanted to hear.

Despite himself, the Ravenclaw grinned in response to the Headmistress' laughter.  He knew who worked in the Department of Mysteries and suspected he had an idea of where the comment came from.  However, he was still a student and he couldn't shake the habit of showing a professor deference just because Professor Devereux no longer worked at the school.  For better or worse, it was a moot point; a time turner wouldn't actually help him with his predicament.  They didn't create time, they just allowed you to do more in the time you had. 

“And I’m sure you’ll find, Mr. Schlagenweit, that life outside of Hogwarts can be quite refreshing.  Or so I’m told.  Though you needn’t worry.  You’re a scholar – I have a feeling you’re not quite finished learning yet."

Sasha's grin faded and his shoulders drooped, slightly.  "So far, it's not seeming all that refreshing," Sasha admitted.  "It mostly seems complicated and-"  lonely was how he intended to end the sentence, but he stopped himself.  The Headmistress was surely not interested in the petty, convoluted dramas of students' lives.  But, the previous week's conversation had left him with just a hint of doubt. 

The Ravenclaw didn't mind the truth, even if it was a little scary.  He'd much rather adults be honest then comforting; he rather lacked the ability to recognize the social subtleties when people were lying. 

Sasha hesitated a moment, then shrugged.  "If I might, you know, offer a suggestion," he offered.  "From what I understand and have heard, things have improved for muggleborns.  But, I wouldn't say things are equal yet.  I just ..."  He hesitated, again.  "Hogwarts teaches us a lot.  But, it's mostly school stuff.  Schools often seem to defer the everyday life lessons to parents, letting them teach their kids.  Those of us that are muggleborn don't have that.  Things like opening bank accounts or buying property or ... even ... buying groceries.  We don't have a model.  In the end, this makes us the wizarding equivalent of cultural immigrants.  That leaves us at a disadvantage to our peers that are raised in the wizarding world." 

"I don't know but maybe there's more the school could do to help us integrate?  Home economic classes or fostering opportunities.  A big wizard brother or witch sister program for graduating seventh years.  Some sort of substitute for the absence of an adult role model in the wizarding world." 

Minerva had already begun to wrap up the meeting in her mind - the topic she'd called upon Sasha for had been discussed. He assured her that he would be fine and though Minerva was inclined to worry, she believed the Ravenclaw more than she would have most students in his position. There was at least one every few years - that one sponge of a student that couldn't help but absorb as much as they could in their limited time at school. Some handled that better than others and the Schlagenweit child had proven himself time and again that he was up to par.

Minerva felt like her guidance had been a help in shaping the young man into the adult he had become. Satisfied with that thought, the Headmistress had begun to reach forward to pull the never ending stack of documents toward her to sign when Sasha' words registered with her and the elder witch's heart sank.

His words rang true, Sasha was insightful and brilliant - but there was little Minerva felt like she could do to help in alleviating his concerns. Though Minerva cared for her students, she was not a parent. There were programs, outside of Hogwarts purview, that assisted with the things he'd mentioned. Students attended Hogwarts for their magical education - if the school began down the slippery slope of muddling the line between parental rights and educational necessity, things could only deteriorate for the greatest institution in the world. It had been almost an impossibility to get the Board of Governors to agree that a panel on sex education - pushing them for things like banking and real estate assistance would only encourage the Board to add more scrutiny to the way the school was run - and after recent events, Minerva couldn't allow that.

One slim finger tapped the Headmistress's lips thoughtfully while she contemplated what to say. "For some adults, change can be an almost impossible goal to achieve," She began, lowering her hand back to rest atop her lap, "but that does not mean that progress can't be made. I understand your frustrations - and can offer you personal assistance with anything you need, or you can talk to Counselor Biladeau-Yukawa about programs that can help you,"

When said like that, it almost sounded like a brush-off, and Minerva surely didn't want that - so she continued,"We are changing things - and equality is coming, it is simply a slow process. Traditionalist wizards and witches still fill prominent positions in our communities and those ideals are difficult to overcome,"

She drew a deep breath and gave Sasha a sad smile and an almost imperceptible shrug of her shoulders, "Perhaps you'd like to owl around to see if there's any traction for your ideas - when you have time,"

Sasha understood the headmistress’ point but it still didn’t sit well.  The parent-school divide worked, assuming the parent was able to fulfill their side of the educational coin.  That wasn’t always the case for muggleborns.  Or, at least, it hadn’t been the case for him.
 
Maybe in most situations, it was an easier transition.  Supportive parents of muggleborns probably remained invested in their children’s education and upbringing and maybe that made it easier for the student to integrate.  He’d had to find his way through this whole new world on his own.  Presumably, even among muggleborns, that wasn't a common occurrence.  Most probably had help in figuring out Gringott's and buying school supplies.  He'd managed to navigate that phase of integrating into the wizarding world - at least, Hogwarts. 

Integrating into the Wizarding World beyond Hogwarts was the next step.  Of course, he had his own assortment of anxieties regarding leaving the relative simplicity of school and, despite his general aversion to the counselor’s office, maybe it would be would be beneficial to talk to her.  And, maybe his unease about leaving was part of the motivation to go to muggle university?  Maybe he was just avoiding the uncomfortable newness. 
 
“Thank you, ma’am,” Sasha offered.  “There are, now, people I can ask.  Even if they come from places that were far closer than I would have guessed.”  Sasha grinned, slightly, and shrugged.  Professor Storm’s near brush with death the previous month had necessitated bringing Professor McGonagall into the new familial connection loop.  “Even if it still feels strange.”  And, awkward.  Though, awkward was Sasha’s thing.  Schooling, horses and awkward were the Schlagenweit specialties.
 
"We are changing things - and equality is coming, it is simply a slow process. Traditionalist wizards and witches still fill prominent positions in our communities and those ideals are difficult to overcome."
 
The Ravenclaw couldn’t resist chuckling and shaking his head.  “I’ve noticed.”  He answered simply, at first.  He was well aware of the divide between perspectives, both from his own experiences and watching Professor Trishna’s attempts to integrate muggle principles into Hogwarts’ curriculum. 

But, facing Mrs. Storm’s vehement disapproval had stirred some doubt.  “Do you think I’m making a mistake?”  Sasha asked, his grin faltering and fading.  “Pursuing muggle university?  Mrs. Storm implied I was, well, throwing away my life by pursuing it."  Actually, it had been a bit more than an implication.  She'd said as much, verbatim.  "I mean, you kept Professor Trishna on staff so … you must think there is some value in wizards understanding what muggles study.  Right?”