(Sasha's Outfit & OOC: This is the thread for compartment 2 in car 4 on the Hogwarts express.  Any and all are welcome to stop by, say hi, come take an empty seat for the journey / a few minutes, pass by the door and sneer, mock the inhabitants - whatever your heart desires.  The food trolley comes by at 12:30)

He only had a mundane, brass-ornamented suitcase in the luggage wrack overhead.  Just like the past three summers, Sasha's school trunk and quidditch broom were still sitting on his bunk with all his school supplies, uniforms, books and papers.  The suitcase over his head was filled with slacks and polo shirts, a random football uniform, a random school uniform (he had no idea what school it belonged to) and a few suits were folded neatly inside. His school pack was flopped open on the seat next to him with a chemistry textbook and a spiral bound notebook flopped open on top of it.  The page the notebook was open to was filled with a long list of equations, each scribbled out in turn. 

He'd been trying, since late last night, to get that equation to balance properly but still, for reasons he couldn't figure out, he was ending up with extra oxygen.  Thirteen times, he'd reworked the problem and he kept getting a single oxygen.  He'd, finally, abandoned in favor of plowing through the book in his lap but even that was leaving him frustrated and feeling slightly defeated. 

Die Verwandlung von Franz Kafka*, sat closed in Sasha's lap.  Even that book was failing to hold his attention for too long.  Or, rather, his attention was failing to remain affixed to the book.  He could think of nothing else but the text in his lap as he stared blankly at the scenery.  Next year, he'd be more careful to read a book before declaring to his family that they'd studied it that term.  He thought he could impress Gerhard by saying they'd studied The Metamorphosis in its original German.  He was certain that his step-father would want to discuss the pivotal piece of literature at great length. 

And, there in lay the problem.  After reading the text for the first time, Sasha had fixated on how utterly appropriate and relevant the book was.  The protagonist had turned, inexplicably, into a giant bug.  Gregor continues to change more and more and his family grows to be disgusted with him.  Finally, they decide he had changed so much, he was nothing more than a bug - and treat him as such.  Was Gregor a wizard?  Had he become an animagus without knowing it?  Was Kafka a wizard?  Was he a muggleborn who was shunned by his family?  The thought had stuck with him and, despite rereading the text three times, that was the only thing he could think of. 

The thought seemed strangely comforting but, simultaneously, terrifying.  If his suspicions were true, there had been those who understood his predicament for a long time.  But, regardless, how was he supposed to discuss this story with his step-father?  What was he supposed to say?  He couldn't think of anything else about it!  Sasha jumped as the compartment door slid open and glanced over towards the door. 

Outift.

Vienna was following close by somewhere. Atticus had already chosen a compartment in car five, and the two girls were making their way along from another Slytherin cabin in car two. Ava peered over he shoulder. No Vienna. She rolled her eyes. That girl really would stop and chat to just about anyone. Well, that was an exaggeration, there were some people she refused point blank to talk to, but she was seemingly less choosy than Ava herself.

As she walked through car four, a group of giggling Ravenclaw first year girls ran past her in the corridor almost knocking her over. "Less of the running!" Ava shouted as she backed up against the window of the corridor, her prefect status coming into full bloom. She shook her head as the girls slowed down to an almost stop and tip-toed through to car 3, then bolted off again.

Ava's eyes wandered into compartment two. They went from the boring suitcase on top of the luggage rack, down to a pile of books, then to the owner. Ava's lips curled up slightly. "Schlagenweit." She said quietly. She moved forward, placed her hand on the latch to the door and pulled it open in a smooth, fluid movement.

Leaning against the frame of the door, Ava's expression was hard to decipher. One of amusement and sly prowess, but not one of anger or distaste. "Schlagenweit." She said in greeting. "All on your own? How is that possible? Such a handsome Ravenclaw." She almost giggled at this last comment. Oh, how Vienna would love to be here right now. As it was, she was probably having the dullest conversation ever with someone else, and would kick herself when she saw what she was missing out on.

Sasha's eyes grew wide and he cast a hasty look around him.  No - he was still the only one sitting inside the train compartment.  No one that would prove to be more interesting or exciting to Slytherins such as Grosvenor had managed to sneak in undetected during his contemplation of Kafka.  He looked back towards the door and blinked as his eyebrows arched in confusion. 

"Allo," he said, hesitantly, glancing again around the compartment, just for good measure.  Normally, outside of quidditch games, the Slytherins seemed content to either ignore him or cast the occasional self-humoring comment in his direction.  What had caused that pattern to falter was entirely lost on Sasha.  "Grosvenor," he finally added, convinced the older Slytherin was there. 

He shifted a little straighter in his seat.  "Congratulations on game," he offered.  It seemed the appropriate, polite thing to do.  And, he played enough sports to know winning and loosing was just part of it.  "It was certainly ... interesting."  Color flooded his face and he quickly looked out the window at a passing tree, under the pretense that the tree had captured his attention. 

It had been an opportune motion - regardless of how obvious it was.  Grosvenor's question only deepened the color in his face.  "I - I don't ... I'm not ... it was empty when I got here."  And, he had so much to finish before the train got to London that he'd taken advantage of it.  The only ones, he'd assumed, that'd bother joining him were fellow Ravenclaws and all of them were familiar enough with the 'I'm-studying-let-me-be' look that they'd let him be.  Though, he wouldn't mind a reason to be distracted for the few hours before he returned home.  "Is there someone ... something you're looking for?" he asked, forcing himself to look back at Grosvenor, despite what he knew was a lingering pink tinge to his face.

Sasha's greeting was uneasy and one that exuded embarassment at actually being addressed by a Slytherin girl. Especially one who had kissed him only two days ago. He clearly wasn't sure on whether it was proper etiquette to address her by her surname, but did so anyway just for good measure. So maybe he wasn't the most confident of people, but it was cute. Ava cocked her head to one side, studying him as he congratulated her on the Slytherin win and commented on its interesting nature. Ava's hand automatically reached up to her sore shoulder and massaged it unconsciously. Ms. Tulojow had done a magnificent job with the shattered bone, but it still ached. Ava had been warned that it would do so for at least another week.

Through her aching though, Ava managed to grin at Sasha's furious blush. Evidently he was thinking about the kiss. She could imagine it took all of his might to forget it, nevermind remember it. He stuttered at her comment about how his handsomeness would surely prevent him being alone, and tried to veer the conversation off in a different direction.

He was obviously uneasy with her appearance in his empty compartment, as he asked her if she was looking for someone. She sighed and shook her head. "No, I'm wating for Vienna. We're going down to car five. We have a compartment waiting for us there." She smirked slightly as she watched him fumble with the book he was supposedly reading. "But..." She started, a sly glint in her eyes. "She won't mind if I wait in here for her." Ava entered the compartment and began to close the door. "She'll completely understand when she sees who I'm in here-"

The train suddenly jerked, and Ava stumbled forward letting go of the door in the process. The door moved on its roller and slammed shut just as Ava fell forward and landed across Sasha's lap, her body sprawled out over his knees. She erupted into hysterical laughter.

Vienna trailed after Ava and made her way through the narrow walkway of the Hogwarts Express. With every passing compartment occupied with jumpy first-years and harebrained Hufflepuffs, she grew irritated and morose. Their mindless chatter filtered through the doors and defiled her ears.  Vienna sorely missed the good old days when a single glance from an upper-year Slytherin would send youngsters and Hufflepuffs into a silent fit of terror. She sighed wistfully and walked on.

They had a compartment reserved in Car Five, one of the many perks that came with being “Big, bad, Slytherins”. It was common knowledge among Hogwarts students that Car Five was an exclusively Slytherin territory. Few outsiders have ever caught sight of the place, let along set foot in it. If anything, the Slytherins were a selective crowd.

Vienna was midway through Car Three when a hand latched onto her wrist. A Hufflepuff Fourth-Year flung one of the compartment doors open and screamed excitedly, “Ceci! What took you so long?”

Vienna arched an eyebrow and yanked her hand free of the girl’s grasp. “I beg your pardon?” She enquired coolly. Flabbergasted, the Hufflepuff flushed a most interesting shade of red and withdrew her outstretched arm. “Oh…” The girl mumbled, “I thought you were… Never mind…I mean…Sorry.” She trailed off and ducked back into her compartment. Vienna rolled her eyes and turned away. By then, Ava was nowhere to be seen. Vienna frowned and walked on, stopping every now and then only to converse with tolerated Ravenclaw acquaintances and look for her friend’s familiar shadow.

When she stepped into Car Four, the train jerked suddenly and Vienna nearly fell against one of the compartment doors. Instinctively, her reflexes kicked into gear. She propped herself against the wall and grabbed onto the doorknob for support. Vienna quickly scanned her surroundings to make sure no one saw her stumble but instead found a scene of far greater interest.

There she was, Ava Grosvenor, of all people, sprawled across Sasha Schlagenweit’s lap in a fit of hysterical laugher.

Just her luck.

Vienna smirked and pushed the door open.

“Room for one more?” She purred suggestively, a playful chuckle escaped her lips. Vienna eyed Ava and winked, “A new boy toy? Don’t you think he’s a bit too young, even for your taste?” She gave Schlagenweit the once-over and smiled mischievously, “It must have been one hell of a kiss, Ava. He looked absolutely petrified then, who knew he would run back and ask you for more.” 

Grosvenor's response was, at first, logical and made perfect sense.  She was waiting for Pascal - they were, obviously, friends.  That made sense.  Check.  They were going down to car five.  The Slytherin car.  Everyone managed to learn that their first year - either because someone warned them or, as in Sasha's case, they had accidentally chosen to sit there before getting sent on their way.  Quickly.  Again, check.  That was all fine and good and, just before the smirk stretched across Grosvenor's face, Sasha pursed his lips and nodded. 

"Alright, that makes...," he'd started to say but, he quickly grew quiet as Grosvenor continued.  "I ... what?" he asked, confusion, again, wrinkling his brow.  "She won't ... mind?"  Actually, it was the part about waiting in here that Sasha had been more inclined to ask about.  Unfortunately, you're waiting in here had seemed a much more impolite question to ask, though.  "I ... I'm sorry but, I don't understand," he'd started to say. 

And, no, there was quite a bit he didn't understand about this.  This whole sudden flurry of interest from the Slytherin camp made no sense whatsoever.   He'd always imagined them as some pack of bees or hyenas or something like that.  Content to stick with their own, only venturing out if something caught their interest either out of curiosity and entertainment or prey. 

What had he done to attract their attention?  Had he moved too quickly at some point?  His first couple years, he'd definitely been in the prey category - the scrawny, brainy new-to-the-wizarding-world little kid had been prime bullying prey.  But, the last year or so, they seemed to have grown bored with him.  Then, all of a sudden, Neely was asking him to tutor her - he got wrapped up in a cat funeral turned paintball game and now he was getting cornered in train compartments by upper year Slytherins.  Had he, somehow, become prey again? 

He was almost tempted to ask but before he could, the train gave a sudden lurch and Grosvenor was falling towards him.  It was instinct that reacted - pure, thoughtless, uncalculating instinct.  He reached up to grab her, in an unfortunately chivalrous attempt to slow or cushion her fall.  But, the result was downright humiliating.  Grosvenor was sprawled across his lap, his arms were wrapped uselessly around her and she was laughing loudly.  And, to make matters worse, Pascal had caught up.

"I ... what ... no!"  He answered, quickly, desperately as the color in his face quickly neared a glowing scarlet.  There was not room for one more!  Why was she chuckling - there was nothing funny about this!  "I'm not ... please, can you get off ... I ... that was just tactics!" he exclaimed in his own defense.  The kiss - how could they be talking about it so casually?  His mind had quickly filed the kiss away as pure and simple tactics.  Nothing more, nothing less.  Just like a backward pass.  And ... implying that he'd wanted more?  "I didn't go running back ... she came in here!  I didn't ... I don't want ... please get off," he repeated. 

Ava was practically howling with laughter. It really shouldn't have been that funny - the laws of 'coolness' stated that she should have been mortified. But the fact that it was Sasha Schlagenweit? Priceless. And then the compartment door slid open, and Ava lifted her head awkwardly to see Vienna standing with an amused expression across that stony face of hers. Well, that set her off again, didn't it? Once again she was in fits of laughter, and her stomach muscles were seriously beginning to hurt.

Sasha's stuttering made it all the more funny, as Ava tried to regain some strength in her body and get herself up from the compromising position they were in - before someone else saw them, putting two and two together to make seventy-three.

"I.." she started as she lifted herself up as best she could, still giggling. Her face was red and her hair hang over her eyes. "Yes, come join us Vi. You know how much Schlagenweit enjoys our company." She grinned as she managed to haul herself up and move over to the bench opposite Sasha. Vienna's comment about Sasha coming back for more made Ava grin broadly. "Who knew indeed. He is a dark horse, you know."

“A dark horse?” Vienna placed her hand over her heart and pretended to swoon, “I love unpredictable...”

Ignoring Sasha’s objections, Vienna stepped in and locked the door behind her. Across from the Ravenclaw boy, Ava was grinning in a very un-Slytherin-like manner. Her behaviour brought an amused smirk to Vienna’s lips. She seated herself next to her friend and crossed her legs. Atticus will have to wait until the girls have had their fun. Her eyes flicked lazily to Sasha and bored into his face. There was just something so wonderfully endearing about his scarlet cheeks and flustered stuttering that Vienna could not resist the prospect of making him feel just a little bit more uncomfortable.

Turning to Ava, Vienna pouted in disappointment, “I think he protests too much.”

She let out a small sigh and bumped her elbow into Ava gently, “A tad crowded in here, don’t you think?” Vienna flashed her fellow Slytherin a meaningful look. “Will you be a dear and squish with Schlagenweit for a while, just so I can have some breathing room?” Vienna smiled at Sasha with all the sugary politeness she could muster, “I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“So…” She clasped her hands together after a fleeting moment of awkward silence and simpered prettily at Sasha , “That Quidditch match was really something, wasn’t it? Speaking of which,” She looked at Ava slyly, “I have been meaning to ask, what was it like kissing a Ravenclaw? I’m curious. Of course, I would have tried to find out on my own but the opportunity never presented itself.” She batted her eyelash at Sasha and murmured, “Perhaps you could accommodate me sometimes too…?”

With no small amount of relief, Sasha finally found his own lap bare and free of any older Slytherins - the state of his lap which he currently much preferred.  There was something in Grosvenor's laughter that had answered his initial question.  Yes.  Somehow, somewhere along the lines he seemed to have become prey again.  He was still at a loss for what might have prompted the change of roll but it didn't seem to matter much, now. 

Well, maybe Slytherins were more like bees.  Sasha chanced a quick, curious glance across at the still laughing Grosvenor, and surveyed her for any bee-like characteristics.  Why?  When the exercise seemed so foolish and entirely useless?  Mostly because it gave his mind something to do other than linger on the building heat in his face.  And, perhaps, it offered a solution.  What did one do when they found themselves pestered by bees?  Simple.  They ignored them and the bees went away without causing any harm.  And, as long as Slytherins were more like bees then hyenas - perhaps it'd work.  Sasha doubted it was as effective to ignore hyenas. 

As Grosvenor invited Pascal to join them, Sasha lifted die Verwandlung and settled back against the corner of the compartment, the book opened square in front of his face.  Of course, focusing on the book was out of the question - hiding the blush was, really, all he could hope to accomplish.  "Well, I have a dark horse," he muttered under his breath. 

The book dropped slightly and Sasha looked over the top of it at Pascal, startled.  "How am I ... I'm not ..."  As far as Sasha could tell, he was about as predictable is it came.  Perhaps only comets and eclipses were more predictable.  Sasha disappeared behind his book again, still hoping that, perhaps, if he ignored them successfully, they'd fly off. 

But, for some reason, ignoring seemed harder now than it had before.  The book dropped an inch or two when Pascal asked Grosvenor to move towards Sasha.  He glanced from Pascal to Grosvenor and back.  What was he supposed to say?  That he minded?  It just even sounded for too rude in his head. 

"They shouldn't have overreacted," Sasha said with a sigh, finally lowering the book.  And, he had firmly come to believe it.  The Slytherins' tactic had been low and dirty but his teammates had been foolish for letting it distract them from the game.  He still didn't understand why Megan and Bea and all of them had reacted so strongly.  "They should have stuck with the game."  And, clearly, the Slytherins were still having their fun.  "Could I ... what?"  He eyed Pascal warily.  Was he asking what he really thought she was asking?  "Why me?" He finally had to ask.  Perhaps, really, it hadn't been the best choice of timing since it had more to do with their general interest than Pascals particular request.  "I don't understand," he admitted. 

Vienna elbowed Ava gently in the arm and suggested that she should move over next to Sasha to give her some room. Oh, that girl was just too evil sometimes. Ava's lips curled up at the corners. "I'd be delighted." she said as she stood up and moved a foot or two over the carriage and onto the seat next to the younger boy. It was just too easy to squish up next to him, just that little bit too close, invading his personal body space and making him very aware that he was in this carriage with not just one, but two older Slytherin girls. And not just any Slytherin girls - two rather popular [or notorious] Slytherin girls.

“I have been meaning to ask, what was it like kissing a Ravenclaw? I’m curious. Of course, I would have tried to find out on my own but the opportunity never presented itself.”

Ava looked at her nails nonchalontly and smiled. "Well I'm sorry, but you snooze, you lose." She stated simply. "But it was good." She giggled slightly and spoke to Vienna as though Sasha wasn't even in the same compartment, sitting next to her. "He must have had some sort of balm on his lips...strawberry? Or cherry...something like that." She licked her lips a little. "Tasty."

"Why me?"

Sasha had finally chirped up from behind his book. Ava smirked at Vienna then turned to Sasha, leaning back in the seat slightly and crossing her arms over her chest. "Why not you?" she asked simply, raising an eyebrow at him. It was as good a question as any to ask.

Sasha Schlagenweit, a good kisser? Vienna was pleasantly surprised. The fact that he apparently tasted like strawberries (or cherries) made the thought even more laughable. Although she wasn’t sure whether Ava was joking or not, Vienna supposed it was still a compliment...of sorts. Merlin forbids she should ever snog someone with dry and chapped lips.  

“Who would’ve thought...” She murmured dryly and flicked a glance at Sasha. The boy finally lowered his book and succumbed to their attention. Thank Merlin. She was sure the book had its appeal, but his silent treatment was becoming very insulting. In any case, Vienna refused to be spurned for a lousy book. If he didn’t put it away, she would’ve no doubt snatched it from his hands and thrown it out of the window. The bottom line was, he should be flattered by their interest in him.

For all their intellect and love of knowledge, Ravenclaws could be so dense sometimes. Vienna arched an eyebrow at Sasha and wondered just what the heck he was asking her.  Whatever did he mean by he didn’t understand? She was slightly taken aback. Surely she had made her request quite clear to the Ravenclaw boy. How could he have missed the not-so-subtle way she batted her eyelash at him. Vienna frowned. Her nightmare had come true: Sasha Schlagenweit was immune to her charms.

She clasped her hands together and laughed awkwardly. Did he really want her to spell it out? She gave Ava a bewildered look before turning back to Sasha.  Well, if she must...

“My apologies,” She inclined her head in mock politeness and made sure she enunciated every word this time, “I should have made myself clearer. Allow me to rephrase: I would like to snog you senseless in a broom cupboard sometimes, is that okay?”

“I trust we’re on the same page now?” She simpered prettily and waited for his response. Across from her, Ava crossed her arms and asked him the same question he had asked them. The boy was not without redeeming features, but she wondered if he knew that as they did.

 Vienna laughed softly, “Our attention does not flatter you, why?”

In all reality, Sasha was sufficiently aware of the presence of two popular upper year Slytherin girls long before Ava had sidled herself up next to him on his side of the compartment.  But, the scarlet that blossomed on Sasha's face betrayed the heightening of his awareness.  Despite the fact that his gaze remained dutifully transfixed on the cover of the book his lap, he was keenly aware of every position and every movement the girls made. 

"It was?"  Ava Grosvenor had thought kissing him (even though it had been high above the field on brooms) was good?  It was the type of comment that Sasha would have assumed was meant to be malicious - to be a joke but when he looked up at her quickly, there was no indication of whether it had been at all serious.  However, he didn't need to express his disbelief.  Vienna was doing a good enough job for them both.  "Yeah..." he couldn't help vaguely and quietly agreeing.  Who would have thought it?  Not that he really cared what Ava Grosvenor thought of his kissing skills.  Of course.  "I ... it's ... um code red mountain dew lip balm.  It's a ... muggle thing.  Christmas present from my sister."  Not that they really wanted that much information.

Sasha looked bewildered from Ava to Vienna and back to Ava when she returned the question back to him.  Whenever he was posed a question remotely like 'why not you,' he was always greatly tempted to respond, simply, because I'm Sasha.  But, even he knew better than to offer that response now.  They didn't need more fodder.  "Because ... you've always been content to ignore me before?" Sasha responded slowly.

The sudden impact of clapping hands drew Sasha's attention back to Vienna.  His eyes widened as the elaboration sunk in.  It had, by now, become physically impossible for his face to achieve a darker shade of red but he could feel the warmth spreading to the tips of his ears.  He may not have been the most socially confident boy in the school but even he knew, by boy's locker room standards, this wasn't unlike winning the social lottery jackpot.  But, it still didn't add up.  Boys like him didn't win social lottery jackpots.  "You do?" It probably wasn't the smoothest response. 

He wasn't sure whether to be suspicious, flattered, surprised or downright petrified.  "I ... I think so."  Another marvelously smooth response.  They were on the same page - only one of them was lacking the experience necessary to understand what was written on the page.  "Why?" he asked. 

"I ... no ... of course ... I mean, I'm flattered ..."  Then, finally, the confusion grew significant enough to overpower the intimidation induced hesitation.  "I just don't understand why, all of a sudden, you're interested.  I mean, me ... I'm just me and first Neely and now you all.  It's not just about quidditch, is it.  I just ... what did I do?"