(1:30pm)

Finally, it seemed Gerhard had spent as much time as he could spare on finding all the errors in Sasha's technique and had left the estate to return to the office.  His step-father's efforts had become redoubled over the weekend since Sasha was, largely, gone during the week at his internship.  It was now only on the weekends that were not occupied with shows that Gerhard could 'coach' him.  Most of the his feedback was easy to overlook - while Gerhard Schlagenweit had ridden a little when he was younger, he was far from an equestrian.  Sasha's skill far outstripped his stepfathers - not to mention Gerhard lacked the patience.  But, it was one of the few ways in which the old man could influence Sasha's life these days and he clung to it adamantly.  But, the office had beckoned Gerhard away and Sasha had been left to his own devices for the rest of the afternoon. 

The front and back doors of the barn had been flung open, allowing a gentle breeze to pass through the center hall.  The formidable front façade of the manor house could be readily seen through the front doors of the stables.  Anthony, the groundskeeper and stable hand, was busy wiping down Dieter after Sasha's Gerhard-run exercise in between polishing tack.  A couple other stray heads hung over their stall doors in the lazy summer heat. 

Wobias moved freely but strongly underneath him.  Sasha could easily feel the animal's muscles flexing and stretching rhythmically through the stretched fabric of his jodphurs.  It was hot under the riding jacket and, once he was confident Gerhard was gone, it would be one of the first things to leave.  With a gentle squeeze of his calves, the horse broke into a collected canter.  Sasha would give it a few minutes to make sure his step-father was, indeed, gone and then he'd slip out for a ride down to the lake.  Sneaking off whenever he had become a more common occurrence, especially as his mind struggled to make sense of everything. 

He swung down from horse's back and started to lead him down the center aisle, pausing halfway through the stables to toss his jacket over a stall door.  "Evening, miss, is there something I can help you with?" Sasha heard Anthony say as he tugged the tails of his shirt free, feeling cooler almost immediately.  Sasha looked up past the red-haired young man.  With the light spilling in from the opposite end of the stable, it took a moment for Sasha to recognize Neely. 

"Neely!"  He said, surprised to find the Slytherin standing in the stable hall.  The last time he'd seen her, things had been left awkward, only slightly confusing and had all culminated with Neely being much more angry with him than she'd let on.  He knew his sister's unpleasant comments had offended Neely but he'd thought - or perhaps just hoped - he'd succeeded in making things marginally better.  She had agreed to meet him after the game, after all.

But she hadn't been anywhere around when the game had ended and Sasha had made his way to the designated tree.  He'd waited for almost an hour but had finally resigned himself to the fact that she had left.  He hadn't expected to see her again until school started and, then, wasn't sure what to expect from that interaction.  "What are you ... is something wrong?" he asked, looking around.

Neely couldn’t remember the last time she’d walked so far in heels. She was as much of an expert as any fifteen-year-old could hope to be, but her feet were becoming as tolerable as a pair of jarring jobberknolls. She’d Flooed to the edge of Guildford, to a wizard-owned pub she’d found in her father’s address book. A place he often did business, apparently. The barkeep had nodded at her in greeting, but had looked mildly confused when she’d asked after Sasha Schlagenweit. Apparently the Ravenclaw wasn’t a regular.

So, with only a vague idea of where he might live, and a terrible sense of direction, the Woolfolk girl set off in search of a place with horses and fiery little sisters. At last, she came a massive stretch of property—admittedly big enough to make her raise a brow or both. Stepping almost timidly through the open gate, Neely looked around for signs of life. She was tempted to march up to the door and knock, and to fend off any siblings, step-fathers, or strangers of the non-Schlagenweit persuasion… but then her eyes landed on the stables. A pony dawdling in the distance confirmed that it wasn’t simply a smaller house.

Bypassing the big house, which she was still having trouble associating with her unassuming classmate, Neely made a beeline for the barn. She teetered on her heels just inside of the open doors, and opened her mouth in surprise when she was addressed by an unfamiliar man. She was preparing exactly what to say, how to weasel herself out of inevitable accusations of trespassing, when Sasha appeared.

Offering an only mildly guilty smile, Neely paced forward, shaking her head. “No, of course not. I just thought I’d drop in and say hello. Is he your house-elf?” She asked, throwing a none-too-discreet gesture toward the man who called her ‘Miss’. Oops. She’d meant butler. Excepting tutors, Neely’s parents had largely done away with human help when the girl was old enough to walk and talk. They were too nosy.

She moved closer still, her eyes roaming the stable, head inclining backward as her gaze climbed upward. “You live here? I mean over there…” She looked back to Sasha, finally, and then out of the open doors, in the direction of the house. The surprise was not masked.

After the casual questions, Neely was finally content to remain transfixed on the boy, whom she hadn’t seen in several days, and whom, ordinarily, she would not have seen all summer. But things had changed in more ways than one since their last encounter. It was only now that whispers of the awkwardness returned. Neely averted her gaze to one of the majestic animals.

In a quick glance around the stable hall, Sasha's mind worked through a hasty assessment of the situation.  Anna was off in town with some friends, weaving through shops in a rather roving manner.  Last he'd seen, his mother had been in the gardens, tending to the fully expired spring bulbs.  His step-father, most thankfully, was probably halfway back to London by now unless something caused him to turn around and return home.  Something like his mother calling him on his cell to alert him that this elusive Neely girl who'd stolen Sasha from Hannah had stopped by to pay a visit. 

Anthony was, really, the only current liability, unless his mother were to come looking for him however, of all the current residents of 12 Downside Road, Anthony was the least of Sasha's concerns.  Now close to thirty-five, the rather stocky, red-haired, darkly tanned man had started working for Gerhard shortly after the family had settled on the property.  Jacoba had always gotten along well with him and, as a constant figure in the stables, Sasha had spent considerable time around the man.  Tony still answered, first and foremost, to Gerhard, but he'd always been reasonable, tolerant and easy to rely upon. 

So, chances were, if they could avoid his mother, they'd be alright.  Sasha's attention settled back on Neely, and he searched her face and her stance for any signs of her still being angry.  But, there were no traces of a simmering grudge when she replied.  Only a somewhat subdued version of the usual bubbly Neely energy.  The immediate worries of familial interference and lingering Neely wrath gone, Sasha was able to relax and offered a shy grin in return.  And, even, acknowledge he was glad to see her.  Even if it led to questions about his ... house elf?

Sasha cringed slightly and glanced back towards Tony, but the fellow was peering back towards Neely with a wide, amused grin on his face.  "I'm a what?" he heard Tony ask.  Though, obviously, slightly confused, Tony seemed just as much amused by the chosen address.  "Is that the new net speak for bloody, useless help or whatever you kids use these days?" 

With a chuckle (albeit a nervous one), Sasha shook his head apologetically.  "Sorry.  No.  It's an inside joke.  One of those things that's not as amusing when explained the second time, you know?"  He said, turning with the hopes of ushering Neely out of the stables and to a safely unpopulated area.  But, Tony had moved away from the grey horse and had approached Neely with an outstretched hand. 

"Well, I'm sure there's quite an interesting story behind that one," Tony said.  "And, I suppose you would know better if I'm one of these house-elf-thingies.  But, most people just call me a Tony.  What might you be?" 

Sasha shrugged awkwardly, following Neely's gaze out the stable door towards the main house.  Again, he shrugged.  "Yeah?  Well, when I'm not at school.  Or, back in Germany."  Which, in most years, was a significant amount of time.  "I'm probably really only here six weeks out of the year.  But, yeah ... I suppose."  A rather smooth and uncomplicated answer, if he could say so himself.  A simple 'yes' would have sufficed marvelously. 

Things suddenly grew quiet.  Sasha's gaze lingered on the house a few moments (only because he wasn't quite sure where else to put it) before it flickered back to Neely who was, quite clearly, watching him.  Color rose in his cheeks and he hastily cast around for something to say.  Or do.  Or something.  His eyes settled on Tony for a moment and then a seemingly logical notion occurred to him.  "Do you want to take a ride?  I could show you around.  Some."  Wasn't that what hosts did?  Gave their guests a tour?  If they could manage to do so without running into anyone other than Tony, even better.

Whatever was going through Sasha’s brain, Neely couldn’t begin to guess. Even if she was well on her way to accidentally-but-rather-consciously discovering she was a Seer. When the Ravenclaw finally smiled back, in that timid Sasha manner, she was simultaneously relieved and… decidedly a bit fluttery inside.

Neely tore her eyes away from the boy’s face and looked over her shoulder to the man she’d presumed to be the elf—er, help. Net speak? Neely narrowed her eyes and parted her lips in suspicious confusion. Muggle was its own language. Though, for good measure, he seemed to have caught on to what she’d been trying to convey in more blunt-but-also-somehow-euphemistic, if slightly frightful wizarding terms. Thank Salazar Anna wasn’t around.

Neely’s gaze moved back to Sasha when he laughed. She studied him carefully for a moment, her head titled ever so slightly, and then she finally cracked a smile in the man’s direction. “We have a lot of inside jokes,” she elaborated, furthering Sasha’s explanation. “If you knew his nickname, you would die,” she promised. Something mischievous danced in Neely’s eyes as she seemed to catch the acting bug again. She’d meant die in the ‘oh-my-Merlin-this-is-amazing-and-or-hilarious’ sense. Not the ‘bummer, that person is six feet under’ sense.

At first Neely was perplexed about why a butler would offer a hand in greeting, but then she remembered that her closest elf was practically family… in the weird faux-parent-little-sibling-who-is-sometimes-annoying hybrid sense of the word. “Me?” She asked, coming out of her reverie with a blink and slight quaver of blonde. She was more of a who than a what, but the man was a curious one in general. Unless he wanted to know her house-elf code name. “I’m a—I’m Neely.” She took his hand and gave it a confident but still dainty shake, as her parents had schooled her. “I’m Sasha’s—Neely.” She cringed at her own sudden drop in smoothness. Introducing herself was usually much easier. She couldn’t wait to let people know the brilliance that was Neely Woolfolk. But she had no idea what the cretin in the form of a thirteen-year-old girl had said to the family, or to the help. If this Tony was anything like a house-elf, he probably heard everything.

Focusing on Sasha, Neely continued to be surprised. Even in his unease, he seemed casual about his answer. She’d known he was a muggleborn with a certain reputation to uphold (thanks to his loudmouth sister), and she’d known his family hailed from Germany, but she hadn’t followed the clues closely enough to determine that his step-father (presumably, anyway) was, well, swimming in galleons. Pounds. In a painfully ironic way, it made it much easier to sympathize with him. Because, Merlin knew, being wealthy was difficult. “Well, I like it,” she admitted. “It’s very pretty here. And the house for the ponies, too.” She looked around the stable again.

Watching Sasha, Neely rose her brows at the offer. “A ride? In what?” It didn’t dawn on her, what he’d probably meant. Even if she’d talked about her affection for horses, and bragged about her (nonexistent) riding experience, and even though they were standing in the middle of a stable and Sasha had obviously just bee in the middle of riding, Neely didn’t think he would suggest such a thing. “Do you have one of those cars?” She asked, as if they were a highly exotic breed of animal. She imagined trying to corner him with questions and accusations about his family situation and, more subtly, discover what had happened between them at the polo match, while Sasha was steering.

"I do want a tour though. I think you owe me," she said with a bit more self-assurance.

"Nick...name?" Sasha half muttered, half whispered, looking from Anthony to Neely.  Again, his eyes searched her face, looking for any sign that might indicate whether the remark had been entirely in jest (as an extension of this long-winded game they were playing) or if there was a streak of seriousness to it.  It wouldn't surprise him if he had some strange and highly humiliating nickname floating around the underground Slytherin common room.  Actually, he had always been fairly certain of it and had assumed the nickname served as a regular substitution for his real name for those who didn't remember or want to bother attempting it.  However much of a Slytherin he knew Neely could be, he found himself quite convinced that even Neely wouldn't choose now to reveal whatever that name was.

It had to be fake.  Surely.  He could hope.  Especially when the obvious curiosity settled in Tony's face.  "Oh, really?" Tony asked, hooking an elbow over the Wobias' rump, resting part of his weight against the stallion.  "Would you be willing to share?  Oh come now, son," Tony said to Sasha as he cringed slightly, "...it can't be that bad.  She must think well of you.  After all, when's the last time ..." Sasha watched Tony's eyes slide out of focus and figured the older man was quickly trying to remember anytime a friend or classmate had come to visit Sasha at the residence.  "... other than your polo teammates.  They work you to hard, lad.  But, back to this nickname," he said, looking back to Neely.  "I've known this boy since he was ankle high, I'm sure I could offer some amusing childhood stories in exchange."

The recognition dawned on Tony's face almost immediately after Neely offered her name the first time.  "Ahh, yes," the stocky Irishman said, with a coy grin towards Sasha.  "So, you're who the fuss is all about."  Of course, Tony had been privy to much of the drama that had followed the evening after the polo game - and had continued since.  Anna had only taken considerable joy in what she'd clearly come to consider was the final winning hand when she'd not so subtly mentioned that her father should ask Sasha who they had run into during the game.  Setting him up to launch unwillingly into his own confession.  "Yes.  I've heard you're Sasha's Neely.  And, I know his parents, especially his father, are quite eager to meet you."

Quickly, Sasha shook his head, watching Tony imploringly.  "Please, don't.  You know what it'll turn into."  In the aftermath of the polo game, Sasha had been faced with a building avalanche of questions.  In retrospect, many of them had been the questions he'd been searching for in the moments after that kiss but, at the time, had remained elusive in all the confusion.  But, Neely had left.  They hadn't talked after the game - hadn't made sense of all the sudden confusion.  Hadn't put all the jumbled and disconnected pieces back into some semblance of an order that could rest easily in a Ravenclaw's mind.  Perhaps, the urgency to make sense of it all had been considerably less for her.  She wasn't going to be facing those questions later that evening.    The lingering fear that he'd offended Neely had only made elaborating on the lie that much more uncomfortable.  He'd been left to wing it without any sense of what was right and appropriate.  And, he wasn't sure he was ready for a repeat of the polo match halftime drama and, there was no doubt, that with his step-father playing interference, it'd just be much worse.

"And, the house for the house elf things, too," Sasha heard Tony say as he turned back to tending to the grey horse though, clearly, still paying at least half-attention to the conversation.  Sasha grinned.  "I ... thanks," he said to Neely, again surveying what he could see of the property from within the stable halls.  "The grounds are nice, but I don't like it as much as my grandparents place.  Back in Germany.  It's not quite as big - well, the house itself - but it's up in the mountains.  It's very pretty.  Cold in the winter, though."  As much as being surrounded by more Schlagenweits (and his mother's family) wasn't his idea of a good holiday trip, it was usually quite easy to slip away for a hike or a ride.  When he was left to his own devices, he still very much loved being at the family home.

"My mother loves to garden, though.  It's much easier to do so, here.  But, I'm sure you live someplace similar."  If her father owned quidditch stadiums, it seemed a given.  Perhaps, it was even more impressive - given the advantage of magic.  "Do you have stables?  I presume you ride at home, mostly."  Since, obviously, they didn't ride at school.  One of Sasha's biggest sources of disappointment when he'd first arrived at Hogwarts.

"In..." Sasha watched Neely, confused for a moment.  "Oh ... no!  I meant ... no.  Well, yes.  I mean, my parents have a car.  But mug- remember, I still won't be old enough to drive for two years."  Tony's eyebrows had arched in confusion for a moment but he continued to focus on his work.  "I meant ... go riding," he pointed at Wobias before glancing down at Neely's choice of footwear.  "There's a spare pair of boots around, I'm sure.  It'd be easier than walking.  Unless, you were just wanting to see inside the house."  He hoped not.  In fact, part of him hoped that she'd grow bored with the whole touring thing before reaching the house - however unlike it seemed.  The house was a plethora of muggle paraphenalia but it would also increase their chances of running into family members.

"I owe you?" He regarded her a minute before an amused grin flickered across his face.  He owed her?  For what?  "As far as I can tell, we're even." At least, that's what he figured, between the dead-cat plot to get him to break the rules and the whole incident at the polo match.  "But, if it'd make you feel better, I can let you have a free point."

Neely grinned deliberately at Sasha, trying to silently encourage him to play along, and, at the same time, she basked in the entertainment that was his confused voice. Even with the slight awkwardness between them (and there was an entire catacomb worth of it, to be sure, a large portion of which had been created by Neely’s unmentioned disappearance several days ago), it was still great fun to joke with him… particularly when he didn’t know she was doing it. “Mmhmm…” She nodded innocently in Tony’s direction, her grin turning to a close-mouthed, subtle line of a smile, that was nevertheless jovial. “But, no, I’m sorry--” The nod turned to a shake. “I couldn’t, not really… he…” She sighed and looked back to Sasha, suddenly wanting to wink. “I think that will have wait for a rainy day. Or maybe I’ll tell you when he graduates. That way you could print it on a banner and unveil it at the party.”

Sometimes Neely even surprised herself with the things that poured out of her mouth when she was on a roll.

“So I’m the first one to come visit?” She asked, raising a brow. She looked more directly at Sasha than Tony. But her eyes flicked back to the man impishly at the mention of an ankle-high version of the lanky Ravenclaw. Even in heels, Neely didn’t match his height.  “Oooh. Do you have mug—pictures, too?”

There was a fuss about her? Well obviously. Neely felt a stroke of pride, even as she silently cursed Anna in her head. The girl had probably said a million terrible things about poor Neely the art student, but a part of her loved being talked about. And, in retrospect, it was a little easier to swallow the drama. It was fine enough to discuss when she wasn’t being insulted in the same breath. Bopping her head to the side a little, she unabashedly posed more questions. “Really? I hope I didn’t cause too much trouble.” Only, in a way, she sort of did. She hoped Anna hadn’t gotten punished for being a brat, and that Sasha had continued to defend her, as childish, selfish, and impractical a hope it was. “Mr. Schlagenweit wants to meet me?” Her eyes flicked to Sasha and back to Tony. She ignored the boys protests. “Is he here?”

Neely had again misjudged… or simply not noticed… certain contributing factors to the boy that was Sasha Schlagenweit. “You’ll have bring pictures of that one back to school,” she insisted, already taking for granted, without even thinking about it, that they would be spending more time around each other when school began. He was going to be pulled out of his shell, whether he liked it or not. It wasn’t even a question. “Unless you have some here,” She added, her voice dripping with faux innocence. “I haven’t been to Germany in ages.” Even if their supposed school was in Switzerland.

His mother. She was really the only one Neely hadn’t heard about. She knew more than she cared to know about Anna, and assumed Sasha’s step-father was the same in middle-aged male form, but perhaps more militaristic since he seemed so intent on Sasha being a polo champion. And she knew his older sister had been sent away. But what about his mother? “Our main house is in the city. The garden is a lot smaller. But your mum, is she here?” Neely waited for him to squirm. And then it was her turn.

“My uncle has a stable,” she invented. “Near the sea. And my father is building one at one of our country homes.” That sounded reasonable. Renovations were a good reason for avoiding horses, weren’t they? “He keeps changing his mind about the floor plan, you know.” She rolled her eyes, as if this were an absolutely common occurance. “So I haven’t been in a while…” Ever.

If it meant being able to cling more successfully to her lie, Neely would have tried dragging him out to wherever the elusive muggle ‘garage’, license or no license. But, unfortunately, it didn’t seem likely, even in Neely terms. Her face fell momentarily, but she caught herself and let it return to its usual state, following his gaze to her shoes. “Well, the house would be lovely,” she said quickly, assuming he was serious about the offer. “I…” Her feet were killing her. The heels she’d picked were probably ready to abandon the Slytherin for daring to take them out of the closet for such a trip. But, a small part of her had wanted to look good that day, a little taller, and a little more glamorous even if it meant a pinch of pain. Not that Neely ever went a day without consulting the mirror. “Well, maybe a ride might be nice… a slow one. So we can see everything.” Emphasis on slow. And if he had a creature that spoke Neely, even better.

 Using Sasha’s shoulder to steady to herself, Neely slipped out of one heel, and then the other, instantly growing shorter. And forgetting that she was standing in a stable. Which, luckily, was well kept. But Neely had scolded more than one classmate for walking around barefoot.

Her cheeks went just the slightest bit pink, but she matched Sasha’s grin. Maybe she had put him through a fair share of drama back at school. “Well, right now, you owe me boots,” she said sassily. “I’ll take the point, too.”

Glancing to the closest animal, Neely added as casually as possible, “It’s been a while.” She waited to take Sasha’s lead, hoping to simply mimic whatever he did.

Whatever the nickname was (be it real or as made up as many of the elements of Sasha's life), Neely had at least spared him the humiliation of offering any pet name to Tony.  The last thing he needed was the family getting wind of him ambivalently tolerating whatever name Neely or the Slytherins as a whole might have come up with.  He could just see his step-father now, asking Sasha why he hadn't put a stop to it or why someone of his standing would have developed such a nickname.  "I ... thanks.  I appreciate -"  Graduates.  The word had stopped Sasha's train of thought in its tracks.  Graduation party.  He'd never looked that far ahead - he still took each year as it came.  He'd never stopped to consider, when the time came, whether his family would come to graduation once they knew where it was.  And what it was for.  Jacoba was probably the only one who he could see attending. 

"That sounds like a plan," Tony replied, oblivious to the sudden surge of doubt that had sprouted up in Sasha's head.  He was quite used to the frequent pauses and cut off sentences.  "We'll look forward to it," the Irishman continued. 

Sasha's eyebrows lifted questioningly, subtly shrugging his shoulders at Neely.  What did she expect?  How many Hogwarts students did she think had come by the family residence? And, they'd obviously already established that it was impossible for any of his classmates from the school he supposedly went to to visit.  Seeing as how they were quite fully figments of his imagination. "Yeah, no one else from school has visited," Sasha confirmed, more for Tony's benefit than hers, though he kept his eyes on Neely.  "Most are usually too busy."  It was the usual excuse he gave and, for the most part, it was a plausible one.  Being an "international school" it was easy enough to reason that few of his classmates lived in England and the few who did were busy with study projects or internships or other activities to pad their diplomas.  Just as Sasha claimed he was doing when he sneaked off to Hogsmeade during the week. 

"Aye, no Miss.  Sorry to disappoint, but you'd have to ask his mother for those," Tony said, unclipping the large grey horse from his rope and leading the animal to his stall.  "I'm not sure my boss would have been too keen on me taking pictures of his young children."  There was a subdued tinge of humor in the man's voice.  "Never tried - though there are plenty of pictures around the house."  Once the stall door was closed behind the horse, Tony had turned back to the teens.  Silently, Sasha willed the man a mental, sarcastic thanks for what he was sure would only heighten Neely's curiosity. 

Again, Sasha couldn't help wondering what Neely had expected would come after the polo game.  Perhaps, this was all part of the act but, given what he knew about her, there was a definite chance that it wasn't just that.  Tony, it seemed, had taken the opportunity to pretend that he hadn't heard that particular question which was probably for the better.  "It could have been worse," Sasha concluded, vaguely.  He wasn't too keen on the idea of getting into details in front of the man.  It was an awkward enough topic without having to worry about censoring himself.  "But, since things were kind of left ..." he hesitated, his mind fishing desperately for the right word.  "... open to interpretation he's got his own ideas."  Sasha shook his head, answering Neely's question despite it having been posed to Tony.  "Yes, he does.  But, he left for work a short while ago.  But, he's likely to come home if my mother tells him you're visiting."  But, surely, she must know that it would, likely, not go any better than things had with Anna?  Or, was she ... was she hoping she could change the man's impression of her? 

"In London?  What part?" Sasha asked.  It seemed logical (and fitting) that that was the city Neely was referring to but she hadn't specified.  And wizarding families seemed quite content to settle in most places.  He wanted to ask whether her family had any idea what his family had come to accept about them but, again, in front of Tony it seemed hardly the place.  "My mother's out in the lower garden.  Last I saw.  But ... you know, she doesn't usually like to be disturbed when she's gardening."  For the most part, a complete lie.  Sasha knew his mother would be just as keen to meet Neely as his father but if a little lie would stay off the chain of events that was likely to follow, it seemed quite worth a little lie.  And, given everything, it was a rather small one. 

Sasha nodded his head, accepting her explanation for the lack of stables at face value despite a curious voice in the back of his head that sounded rather similar to the one that had questioned the logic in burying cats at night.  While the lack of viable stables made sense, it didn't quite explain where all the horses were.  Unless she simply didn't have any right now.  Of course she'd think the house was lovely.  Despite his hopes, it was probably a guaranteed stop on the tour.  "I ... alright," he agreed both to seeing the house and taking a ... a slow ride.  To see everything.  The curious voice in the back of his head was mumbling again. 

Tony had already moved to ready one of the horses when Sasha had left a shoeless Neely to gather a pair of boots from the tack room.  He brought them back out to her, grinning as she accepted both the boots and the point and offered her a hand in support while she slipped into them.  Once she seemed secure on her own feet, Sasha left Wobias standing where he was and led the horse Tony had saddled out in front of the stables.  "You ready?" he asked as he held the tall chestnut steady, waiting for Neely to get on.  "He's fairly easy going - just be gentle on his mouth.  He can get cranky otherwise." 

Neely, in all honesty, had not yet come up with a nickname for Sasha, though certainly it wouldn't have been hard... or, at least, several weeks ago, when she'd seen him in a single layer of classic Ravenclawness. She was forever gracing her classmates with new titles, though many of them were confined within the pages of the burn book she shared with her friends. Then there were people like Trent Travis, who had come to exist interchangeably as Tator Tot or Trench Coat. Neely wasn't the only one who called him those things. But Sasha was now a harder code to crack (as if he hadn't been before). And the look on his face only made Neely more tempted to come up with something suitable. It would take a while, it seemed. Eyes still on the boy, she nodded in vague agreement at Tony's next words.

Pressing her mouth into the back of her hand and looking down while she seemed to clear her throat, Neely held back a laugh as Sasha's invisible schoolmates became the focus of the conversation. She'd pushed the issue, of course, but it was amusing and... well, even if it was infuriating, it was also sort of brilliant... that he'd pulled it off for so long. Sasha was perhaps as good an actor as Neely. Almost. She could tell when he was lying, she thought.

"Do you have any that I could Shri-- carry in my purse?" She asked, again employing a very fake tone of pure intention that would undoubtedly be obvious to Sasha, however naive he was-- that was the point. The term battling the tip of her tongue, Shrink, as in the Shrinking Spell, had been an entirely innocent slip. "I guess we'll have to see when I get inside." It was a matter of when, not if, in Neely's estimation.

Disappointed to hear that Sasha's step-father wasn't around at the moment, Neely also silently decided that meeting him (one day) would be as inevitable as floating through Sasha's house as if it were a museum with free admission. Not that Neely minded buying a ticket, if the ends justified the means. "His own ideas? You know I'm not a mind-reader, Sasha! Just an artist... don't be shy." She folded her arms, smirking just barely. "But, actually, we have a lot to catch up on first." She glanced back at Tony. As much as she was enjoying hearing about conversations that involved herself, perhaps it was something better suited for a party of two. She couldn't very well remind Sasha to Scourgify Anna's mouth if the groundskeeper was still in eavesdropping distance. Maybe once she'd fed her own voracious appetite for secondhand stories, she could meet Sasha's mum. Especially if it were true that his step-father would drop in again if that happened.

"Chelsea," she said, as if this were common knowledge. And not just because they were supposedly dating in Hannah Sucks Land. Neely assumed everyone knew she was from London. Holidays and vacation homes were fine and dandy, but a teenage Woolfolk without a fashion-savvy city was a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions (ha, she'd remembered the writer from Muggle Studies!). "Oh... maybe when she's done gardening, we could invite her for tea." Neely winked at the boy, not yet ready to give up her pursuit of righting Anna's wrongs and nailing the lid on Hannah's coffin.

Neely was sure her lie hadn't yet betrayed her, because Sasha seemed to agree to her request (as he usually did). After a guilty glance at Tony to make sure that he was at least semi-busy, the Slytherin quickly stuffed her clunky heels into her tiny purse, which had been charmed to hold at least a barrel's worth of belongings... not that she'd stuffed quite that much into it. She steadied herself, latching her own fingers into Sasha's while she used her free hand to pull on the boots. It had been ages since she'd worn a pair of shoes that weren't her own. (Or perhaps Jordyn's or Evie's). She gave them a little test, stepping in place, before finally sobering to the fact that she was going to have to climb onto a horse. Her smile disappeared and she suddenly felt ill as she followed Sasha. It wouldn't have been a huge deal, except that she'd talked herself up as a fairly decent rider.

"Wait, what?" She asked, now standing beside the saddled creature. She took one unsteady step back, and looked to Sasha. "He bites?" She wasn't sure how much longer she could cling to the facade. It wasn't worth having her pretty fingers taken off by a horse. It might have been prettier and gentler than a hippogriff, but... "I don't know, maybe we should walk," she confessed. Did that count as a confession? In Neely land, certainly. It softened the blow. "You can't bow at horses, can you? How do you know he isn't going to get 'cranky'?" She pointed at the boy as she said it, almost in accusation.

"You want ..."  Despite Tony's continued presence, Sasha couldn't help but stare questioningly at Neely.  Was she really, truthfully, asking for a picture of him to carry in her purse?  The whole confusion and vagueness about what was real and what was a part of the whole act for Sasha's family was getting only slightly frustrating.  If this was still, really, all about part of an act, Neely was successfully fooling Sasha.  Luckily, as he was watching Neely closely, Tony couldn't see the pinch of color in Sasha's cheeks as he nodded his head slightly.  "I'm ... I'm sure there's something around.  If you really want.  But, after all, we go to school together."  Denying the request seemed, for better or worse, likely to raise unfortunate questions. 

 He nodded curtly but subtly, ready to shuffle Neely out the stable and away from spying ears.  Especially if Neely really was intent upon meeting Sasha's mother (and, therefore, Sasha's step-father), a chance to talk alone seemed almost imperative.  "Yes, let's" he confirmed.  By the end of mass on the Sunday following the polo match, Gerhard had formulated a strategic plan for rectifying the 'current bump in the road with Hannah.' 

Once Neely had donned the pair of boots (it was a bit strange to see Neely in his sister's boots), he didn't hesitate to shuttle both of them out into the yard with a bit more forwardness than he usually possessed.  "Chelsea?"  Surprise flickered across Sasha's face and he shook his head.  "Really?"  Despite Neely's obvious inclusion in his home situation now, Sasha still wasn't accustomed to seeing the wizarding and muggle worlds as integratable.  But, again, around Neely it seemed to be becoming more integrated when he'd realized that Chelsea was only a few stops up from Gerhard's bank. 

He couldn't help sighing at Neely but a slight grin twitched the corners of his mouth up.  "You're enjoying torturing me, aren't you?" he asked.  "Or do you really just have it out for Hannah?  But.  Coffee, not tea.  My mother's still very much German - you won't find her taking tea." 

That voice that had been muttering in the back of Sasha's mind gave a long, accepting sigh.  As soon as the doubt registered in her voice, Sasha accepted that her boasting had been just that.  Blind, fake boasting.  He opened his mouth to confirm what he'd come to accept but let his mouth close without saying anything.  She'd seemed so excited about horses before that, somehow, seeing her quickly back pedaling and resigning to walking made pointing out her lie anymore too much.  It hadn't been his intention to make her feel foolish and it still wasn't his intention. 

"It's alright," he said, simply, hoping it offered some sense of reassurement.  "No.  He doesn't bite, but he does get jumpy if he doesn't have confidence in his rider.  Usually, that shows through in a tight ... you don't have to, you know."  Given her question about bowing to horses, it had become apparent she didn't have much experience with horses at all - quite possibly none.  "If you want to try riding, I'll show you.  You don't have to, but ... I mean, it has to be more fun than studying football flashcards, right?"  He scratched the chestnut's forehead.  "We don't really have any ... well ... beginner horses.  But, if we share, you'll be fine."  Two weeks ago, the offer might have seemed awkward but more awkward activities had transpired since then.

With the promise of adorableness and blackmail fodder baby pictures for her personal viewing pleasure, Neely carried on toward the horse and saddle with slightly less confidence. While she was usually rather bossy, sassy, and unafraid to give direction, it seemed that Sasha had the lead now. "Yes. It's lovely, but it's not like this. There's lots of--" She lowered her voice as she walked. Perhaps it would allow her to stall. "There's lots of charm work. Sort of like at Hogwarts, you know?" It was odd, being the one to explain how things worked. But undoubtedly Sasha knew how wizarding establishments and homes were different than his own. He'd been in school for years now. And he was a smart boy. Neely's house might have looked like any other snobby, upper crust Chelsea home situated among a smattering of similarly classic edifices and gentrified buildings alike. But the the inside was what could only be described as 'wizarding proportions', and certain repelling and disillusionment charms kept various visitors at bay, where Sasha's massive sprawl of land and formidable wall seemed to do the trick. (Unless your name was Neely Woolfolk).

"Both. You're more fun to torture than first year Hufflepuffs wearing dirty, untied mary-janes in the lavatory. But Hannah needs to learn her place, too," Neely added cheekily, grinning, despite the horse-drawn carriage full of butterflies in her stomach, inspired by some combination of her own lies and the fact that, admittedly, it was sort of exciting to be the first person from school to ever tread on Schlagenweit turf. "Coffee... do you have cocoa?" Coffee was a bit strong for Neely, though she generally found tea bland unless it was swimming in sugar. "My mum likes coffee, too." Though not because she had been raised on it.

It was good to know that horse she'd been envious of didn't bite. But Neely still hesitated. It wasn't like feeding the mare at school, or prancing around with L.G. She hadn't tried to ride either of them. Falling on her bum in front of Sasha hardly seemed the best way to accomplish whatever she'd traveled all the way out there to accomplish. Even as she became less tense, her cheeks grew a little warmer. And Merlin knew the sun was out that day, ready to highlight any such reaction. She almost winced at herself, but her pride wouldn't let her just yet.

"Well, who wouldn't have confidence in me?" She asked, though her tone was uneasy. A breathy little laugh accompanied. Finally, after only glancing at Sasha sideways, she chanced looking at him properly. "It does seem fun," she admitted. And if she had friends who could ride brooms, why couldn't Neely ride a pretty horse? "But if I go flying off the horse, you're coming with me." She crossed her arms defiantly, but inwardly, she was excited. And somehow, the idea of Sasha sharing was both pacifying and promising. Neely still wanted to figure out... a few things. "How do I get up?"

Admittedly, Sasha was somewhat glad there wasn't any charm work on his family's home.  It was big enough as it was - if its interior was any larger than it looked like it should be from the outside, Sasha was sure he'd have trouble finding his way around.  And, his family hardly needed to feel more full of themselves.  "Well," Sasha said, smirking slightly at Neely.  "Then, chances are these charms won't work against me.  I'll have to be sure to return the favor sometime.  I'm sure it'll be interesting."  Yes, he did have some idea what to expect from a generic wizarding home - Neely's residence was a different story, though. 

And, he had to admit, when he wasn't having to worry about familial intervention, he enjoyed being around her.  He even didn't mind giving her the official (and at this point exclusive) tour.  If he could avoid the family drama, all the better.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Sasha concluded, figuring it was better than being less fun than first year Hufflepuffs of any sort.  And, probably an improvement over how he usually came across.  He was quite aware he didn't give the most exciting first impression.  Unlike Neely who's quick tongue and dynamic nature had always made her curiously intriguing.  "I ... don't know," he admitted.  He hadn't gone snooping for cocoa since he'd gotten home but it was possible they had some for Anna.  "Perhaps - there might be some Italian cocoa lingering around from the holidays.  Or, I know Tony has some tea somewhere.  Though, you may want him to make it." 

Finally!  He'd tried to avoid it, for her sake, but a distinctly triumphant grin settled on his face as the color rose in Neely's cheeks.  So, she wasn't impervious.  Goodness knows he'd done enough blushing.  It was nice, for once, to see the color on her cheeks.  It was strangely charming.  And, apparently, catching her at lies seemed to be one of the consistent ways to achieve it. 

"You?"  Sasha had posed it as softly as he could, knowing full well this was, likely, one of those comments that could ruffle her feathers.  As much as she might want to deny it, Neely was, for once, far from dripping with confidence.  "If you get up on him and you don't feel confident in yourself, he'll feel it straight into the bit.  He'll spook and you'll end up either back in London, still on his back, or on the ground."  While that might not have been the most reassuring comment, he quickly added, "it is fun.  Once you get the hang of it.  It's just ... he's not really a beginner's horse.  It's not that different from riding a broom, actually.  Except, the horse has more personality and more of a brain than a broom.  You can't control the horse the way you do a broom - it's more a cooperation.  Considering it's 1700 pounds of muscle, you can't exactly force him to do anything he doesn't want to." 

He looked at the chestnut, wondering what it felt like for a wizard to go from a broom to a horse - to have to relinquish some of that control they were used to.  Other than the addition of height, for him, it had been rather easy to transition from horses to brooms.  "One second.  Be right back.  He's probably not the best to start with."  Sasha led the horse back to the stable and handed him off to Tony before leading Wobias back out of the stables.  The black horse was, no question, much bigger than the chestnut, but was also much more steady and easy going.  And, strong enough to readily bear both their weights. 

The stallion stood steady as Sasha moved over towards his side.  "Alright.  So.  You're going to get a decent hold," Sasha gently placed her right hand on the back of the saddle and the left on the horse's mane.  "And, bend your left knee and put it here."  He cupped his hands, interlacing his fingers.  "Bounce a couple times on your right foot and then bounce up so you can lie over the saddle.  I'll help push you up.  And he won't go anywhere, so don't worry.  Once you're up there, swing your right leg over."  He paused, in between instructions, giving her an opportunity to respond. 

Neely's eyes widened, and then narrowed in classic suspicion. "You want to come to my house?" Sasha had actually caught her off guard with the rather bold statement about returning the favor. She'd shown up in the middle of Muggle Land thinking that she would shock the daylights out of him, and surely he had been surprised to see her. But if she'd planned it, would he have refused? And what would she say to her own father, if he happened to be home? Dad, this is my fake boyfriend whose parents think I'm a muggle art student trying to steal their son from Hannah. Even the Woolfolks, who had long since learned to give into Neely's whims, would probably raise their brows at such a story. "You can't just walk up," she countered, lifting her chin a little and swiping at her hair. "There are other spells and things, and... well, if you come, you have to owl me first." She looked at him, daring him to do otherwise. What did he think this was, an even playing field? Oh, golly, boys...

Giggling silently so that her shoulders shook, Neely's worries of Sasha surprising her off guard by showing up to her house with the covertness of any Slytherin (what if she was still in her pajamas, or wearing a green mask, or having tea with old people?!) melted away. A compliment. He was funny even without meaning to be funny. Which made him funnier. It was like Muggle math, simplified. Only there was nothing particularly simple about Sasha Schlagenweit. "I like it over ice," she explained. "It's better that way. Italian cocoa sounds perfect-- what, you don't know to make it?" Not that Neely often made anything for herself. She would even let the school elves serve her cocoa before she dreamed of wasting time in the kitchen... and they didn't make it quite like her own elf at home. The secret recipe. (Coca, milk, ice?). "Anyway, it's easy. But you have to heat it before you cool it," she warned. "It's probably good mixed with coffee." Neely had only tried teaspoons worth of espresso in her chocolate.

Neely stubbornly averted her gaze as her humiliation got the best of her. She could tell, from the corner of her eye, that Sasha was enjoying it. Well, he could go ahead and gloat! She would just have to find a million more ways to make him blush. It couldn't possibly be that hard... Granted, the expression on his face was sort of attractive in its state of triumph, even if it meant having to switch roles and be the pink-cheeked one to see it. Neely kept this thought to herself, of course.

"I don't want to be tossed off..." It was her last weak attempt at defending her own girlish fear. If she was tossed off, she was not only pulling Sasha down with her, but possibly drawing her wand. And hexing Sasha. Which would do nothing to cure broken limbs or grass stains, but it would certainly pacify her ego. "I don't if you know this Sasha," Neely began, almost dramatically. "But I," she continued, pausing to splay her palm over her chest. "Am not a quidditch player." And thus, not a frequent broom rider. She wasn't dismal like some people, or so she claimed, but she was definitely not the athletic sort. Sports had never caught her fancy in the way magazines and shoes had, and Neely preferred to Floo... or, as lame as it was, Side-Along Apparate. "So a horse is harder? Great!" There was mock cheer in her voice, but the smile that eventually found its way to her face was rather genuine. If she was going to learn to ride a horse, as always secretly believed she'd wanted, she might as well do it now, when it was just Sasha around to watch her fall. The only problem was that Sasha wasn't 'Just Sasha' anymore.

"Seventeen hundred pounds," she muttered to herself, as her eyes zoned in on the majestic creature. Oh Merlin in the stars. She tried very hard, too hard, not to look relieved when the Ravenclaw decided on a wardrobe change of horses. Accessory change, technically.

But the horse he returned with was larger, and for a moment, Neely wondered whether Sasha was plotting revenge. Perhaps trying to teach Neely to keep her mouth shut via hoof. To the face. Or other unpleasant places to sustain bumps and bruises on her most-pleasant little self. Her eyes darted to Sasha, but she said nothing. She waited, instead, for his instruction. Really, it was a beautiful animal, and if Neely had only been trying to win its attention like she had with the ones back at school, she would have been much more confident. She hoped he wouldn't mind a stranger climbing his back. Ironically, she was much more worried about offending the horse than she'd been about offending Sasha's sister.

Bending her knee as instructed, she steadied herself and trusted that Sasha would help her. Only, it was hard to trust him in this situation, even if she'd come to like him. Still, deep down, she must have, or she wouldn't be trying to climb onto a giant, four-legged creature with a supermodel's mane right now. Swinging her leg over Wobias at least, Neely sat stiller than she had in years, and looked around for where to put her hands. It wasn't as high as she imagined, and yet, it was extremely high for someone just over five-feet tall with a knack for exaggeration. "I... I'm doing it! I'm--" Riding a horse? Not quite. "Not falling!"

"I ... I don't know," Sasha asked, slightly uncertainly.  It hadn't seemed that inappropriate a comment when it had first slipped into his head.  Neely, after all, was now (clearly) privy to much of his homelife and then some.  Was it really that surprising he'd be curious about hers.  Or, had it been inappropriate?  "Why is it surprising?" Sasha could help asking, just a trace of concern in his voice.  Had he just managed to make a mistake again?  Over step his bounds? 

In an attempt to better smooth over any rough waters than last time, he quickly shook his head and offered, hopefully reassuringly, "I'm sorry, I wasn't ... I wouldn't just walk up.  But..."  Chances had been very unlikely that Sasha would have just shown up on her doorstep without any forewarning.  The long established habits from etiquette just didn't allow for that.  But, how long did Neely really expect the rules of this game to remain simple and nicely compacted?  Especially now that his mother and step-father knew (or would very shortly know) where she lived.  But, that comment alone was bound to trigger an avalanche of awkward questions and he was content to ignore them for now.

And, he found ignoring them for things like Neely giggling at something funny he'd said (whatever it happened to be) was, admittedly, not difficult.  "Of course I know how to make cocoa," Sasha said quickly, slightly indignant.  He wasn't useless in a kitchen though he certainly didn't have an abundance of opportunities to do cooking.  "But, my fixing you cocoa in the kitchen wouldn't be a good way to start out afternoon tea with my mother.  They're fairly ... traditional ... when it comes to things like that.  It's stupid, I know.  But, if they think you already have me cooking for you, Hannah's won.  Big time."  Sasha wasn't sure he was entirely comfortable using his fictitious former girlfriend as argument leverage but, so far, it seemed Neely was so adamant about beating Hannah it was far too easy. 

"You know, if you're going to pretend to be my girlfriend, you could have a little more trust in me," Sasha said, quietly, the slightest smirk trembling at one corner of his mouth.  It was a rare occurrence that Sasha was able to give someone else (a Slytherin nonetheless) grief for their insecurities.  He'd received enough of it that, this little bit in return was quite satisfying.  "I'm not going to let you get tossed off.  Though, being honest will make that much easier."  While Sasha might not have been entirely confident with their ability to remain on the previous horse (since Neely wasn't experienced as he once thought), he had the greatest confidence in Wobias.  While nothing in life was guaranteed, especially when handling animals (he avoided pointing that out to Neely) he would be very surprised if Neely found herself on the ground before she was ready. 

True to Sasha's expectations, other than swinging his head around to sniff at the person clambering on to his back, the black horse remained perfectly steady.  "Good job!" he offered encouragingly.  "You're taller than me.  And, it doesn't seem like you're falling.  Here, you can hold onto a chunk of hair if you need to.  So, just wait one second..."  While she acclimated to being so high off the ground, Sasha quickly adjusted the stirrups to fit her before quickly swinging up onto the horse's back behind her.  He reached around either side of her (while trying not to think too much about the last time he'd been this close to her) and took hold of the reins.  "Alright.  Whenever you're ready, just squeeze your knees slightly.  And, don't worry, I won't let you fall." 

"Because you're you," Neely answered, before she could stop herself. That had sounded better in her head. Oops. "I mean, you're just really sort of shy, or I thought you were until... you know." She glanced sideways, eyes roaming him, and somehow trying to silently let him know that she'd misjudged him, but had discovered her mistake, and was still discovering it. "My parents don't know about any of this," she added in a sort of semi-apologetic sigh. "I just told them I was going shopping with Jordy and Evie. I can't tell them you're my tutor, but... we're friends now, aren't we?" It hadn't really come up, and Neely didn't know what to call whatever it was that had happened between them, and was still happening. But they were friends. It had been established already, really. Why else would she have traveled all the way out to Sasha's house? She was curious, nosy, self-entitled, but not to the extent that she would bother to go so far for just anyone. It was one extreme or the other that usually struck her fancy, and Sasha certainly wasn't an enemy.

Neely rolled her eyes at his apology, shaking her head. "I don't-- well," she lowered her voice, almost cringing at herself. "I don't really have boys over that often, unless they're my parents friends... who are adults. But maybe you could come to Jordyn's birthday party." If they were allowed gusts. But Neely was sure she would have some say in the list of invites. Surely future probably prefects would make the cut. "You just have to tell me these things, that's all. Stop being sorry, my golly. I'm sorry for showing up in the middle of your horse stables, if that's what you think." She hoped he wasn't either. The only thing Sasha had to be sorry about was his sister, who was still a sore point for Neely.

It was good to know that Sasha could make cocoa. Neely stored the information away, apparently prepared to whip it out in the future, as she tried to do on a regular basis. Maybe she would force him to the kitchens when they got back to school. After curfew, if he could be convinced without the accompaniment of pet funerals. Maybe if she offered to make it... but then however would she test his skills? "Traditional? Like the butlers have to make it, or..." Neely tapped her fingers on her own cheek. "The women?" There were wizards of a similar mindset, arguably many in her own family. Even if they didn't want Neely's mum making cocoa, they at least expected her to sit still, look pretty, and keep her mouth shut in matters of business. Of course, Corina was very good at subtly, and Neely hoped to pick up such a trait one day. Neely's father had also come to accept that heir would be of the feminine persuasion. And, for anyone who knew Neely, that was an understatement. "Unicorns like us, but not because we slave away in kitchens," she said with sass, picking up an argument from over a week ago. "Besides if you reeeeeaallly like me, you'll make me cocoa." By 'like', she'd meant it in the purely I-like-you-as-a-friend sense, but then it occurred to Neely that she was still confused, and that Sasha had just mentioned Hannah in the same conversation. "Or you'll just have to owe me again. With interest. Hannah can go set herself on fire. You know, when she gets around to existing."

Pursing her mouth, Neely immediately opened it again to argue, but she secretly felt Sasha had a point. The blush had begun to disappear, so it was a bit easier to concede. "I guess. I do trust you, but you're going to have to agree with me more often if you're going to pretend to be my boyfriend." Not that he'd had a say in the matter. Neely had taken care of that all on her own. Clydesdales, anyone? "Don't you want Tony to know how much better I am than Hannah? And we have to have more fun. Like looking at your embarrassing baby pictures and sneaking out after curfew." Neely raised both brows, trying to entice him. "It's too bad we can't use our wands in the summer," she added, even as she nervously glanced over the horse. "Paintball wars on horses would be even cooler than ones in the forest."

Even if she was nervous, Neely was also elated to successfully climb onto the horse. Sasha's encouragement only stroked her ego. She looked down at him-- it was definitely weird-- and smirked. "I am. I wish I could find shoes this tall." Well, not quite. That might have made for a slightly unattractive, stilt-like silhouette. She waited for Sasha to climb up behind her, and listened with sincere intention to his instruction. Just like with the tutoring, it was easier to listen to him than it was to some boring old professor who didn't 'get' Neely's Neelyness. Though it was important to keep the pretense of suspicion for the sake of being herself, she really believed him when he said he wouldn't let her fall. Softly grabbing some of the horse's rich hair, she squeezed her knees and looked to her left, trying to catch a glimpse of Sasha behind her. "Ready, Freddie. Where are we going? Not to the gardens?" She asked, somewhat hopefully and with practiced purity, as if she had innocently forgotten that his mother was there.

Even before Neely had started clarifying apologetically, Sasha had nodded with a certain degree of quiet acceptance.  Because you're you was probably one of the few arguments that Sasha was usually willing to accept at face value.  It was even one he was prone to using if he didn't catch himself in time.  In his mind, the clarification hadn't really been necessary but it was surprisingly touching and Sasha looked at Neely with a quiet smile for several moments.  He wasn't exactly sure he did know what followed the "until..." but doubted Neely wanted him pressing the issue.  "Oh."  The smile faded slightly.  "Well, yeah, of course not."  It wasn't like there was any real, concrete reason why her parents would know about him.  None of this was real - it was all part of the lie and he was lucky she wasn't simply ignoring him anymore.  That slight disappointment was entirely illogical.  "I guess if I've been promoted.  From tutor to friend," Sasha said with a slight grin, hoping the humor would help chase away some of the awkwardness. 

"Oh," Sasha repeated.  He was doing a splendid job contributing to this awkward conversation.  In retrospect, it probably would be strange, him suddenly showing up at Neely's house.  Some Ravenclaw boy whom had never really come up in conversation.  "Well, it would be nice to see you, but I ... if it'd make it awkward or strange ... I mean, if Jordyn's not expecting me.  But, I ... I just didn't want ... I thought I'd offended you again.  Stepped out of bounds but, no," he said, quickly shaking his head.  In other words, he wasn't sure what he wanted.  Definitely, she didn't have to apologize even if it had been a little nerve-wrecking in front of Tony.  "Definitely, no, that's not what I think.  I am really glad you thought to come." 

Sasha cringed slightly but nodded his head.  "Yeah, pretty much like that.  Preferably the butler but, if not, the women."  This was one of those topics his father was adamant about.  And, more than likely, he wasn't as concerned about whether it was the butler or the women.  It was a simple matter, though.  The man of the house didn't serve the women.  "Or children.  To a certain age.  You should have heard the arguments my sister got into with him about it.  She'd refuse to serve him.  You could hear it two floors up."  Sasha had never figured out how Jacoba had grown so different from her father - asking had certainly never been an option.  But, from what Sasha understood, that had always been the case.  Even since a young age, she'd been a 'troublesome misfit.'  And, probably, the only member of his family he could have considered being completely honest with.  "I ... I don't think that way," he quickly added, shaking his head.  "Unicorns?"  it took a moment for Sasha to fish through his memories and place the comment.  When he finally remembered the argument, his shoulders sagged as he laughed.  "You're kidding ... I ... I know why unicorns like you and I never thought it had anything to do with kitchens.  I want to know why they don't like me.  And, I do like you, I just can't make you cocoa here.  Anywhere else is fine.  Or even here if there's no one else.  And I..."

He blushed, looking down at the reins in his hands as Wobias moved forward at a steady walk.  "I'm - I don't get it."  At first, the urge to apologize for Hannah had popped its head up in a curious snake-in-the-grass fashion but, suddenly, it was his own confusion that came out.  "Why does Hannah bother you so much?  I mean other than ... the obvious, stupid, she doesn't exist stuff.  I mean, my sister was only so critical of you because she thought we were ... you know ... seeing each other since you were at the game.  But, if you'd just told her we were friends, she wouldn't have cared."  Whenever Sasha thought back on those few moments that left him with parents who thought he had a new girlfriend living just here in London, he always found himself coming back to that.  Wouldn't explaining they were just friends have been so much easier?

"When haven't I agreed with you?"  Sasha blurted suddenly.  Quickly, he began wracking his brain for any time he might have blatantly and grossly disagreed with her.  He couldn't think of any.  "I mean, I agreed with you even when you said things that, in hindsight, were foolishly unrealistic."  He hadn't, really, contested her promoting Anna's assumption they were a pair.  "I don't know," Sasha admitted, quietly.  Almost immediately, he realized how that would likely come across.  Especially to Neely.  "I mean ... of course.  Tony should know you're better.  You are better than Hannah."  Now there was a smooth compliment.  "But ... I just ... I've gone from a fake imaginary girlfriend to a fake real girlfriend.  I just -"  He dropped Wobias' reins and rubbed his face with both hands.  "I just - why does everything that's important have to be a lie?" Especially when the line between a lie and reality flickered in confusing ways.  She'd left the game without seeing him, obviously because he'd done something wrong, but then why had she kissed him again?  And why did it really matter?

He dropped his hands and stared for a moment at the back of Neely's head.  Again, he felt touched.  Assuming it wasn't all part of this strange act, she wanted to spend non-studious time with him.  Of course, the prospects of such things hadn't always seemed as simple to him.  He'd never thought he could (or had good enough reasons to) risk getting caught doing things like breaking curfew.  He wasn't exactly sure what would happen if a teacher felt the need to write his parents but he'd seen enough howlers in the Great Hall to know it sometimes happened.  But, "paintball was kind of fun," he admitted, picking up the reins in one hand.  Gently, he placed his hand on hers and slipped the reins through her fingers.  He similarly slipped the other side through her other hand.  "I never actually thanked you.  But, I'm glad you dragged me out there.  Who knew hiding behind a log could be fun?  So, alright, you know how to make the brute go forward.  Just nudge him if you want him to go faster and keep your hands relaxed just right here.  If you want him to turn right, just gently squeeze your right hand."  Sasha gently squeezed her hand around the rein and Wobias bent his head to the right and moved in a large lazy circle.  "Same if you want to turn left.  And, squeeze both hands if you want him to slow down and stop.  He'll start backing up if you keep squeezing, so if you don't want him to, just relax your hands when he's stopped.  Similarly, Sasha guided Tobias in a left-handed circle and finally to a stop and a few backwards steps, demonstrating the feel on the reins all the time. 

"Paintball on horses sounds fun. Or, even thestrals," he commented, as he dropped his hands, letting Neely take over.  "But, I actually don't have my wand.  I leave it at school in the Ravenclaw tower.  With all of my other stuff.  Professor Greyfriar lets me leave it on my bed.  I've got some random school uniforms somewhere I bring home instead."  A slight chuckle escaped him as he shook his head.  "You don't need to be taller.  Besides, it seems that would be hard to walk in."  Of course, normal heels seemed hard enough.  Not that he'd tried, of course.  At least, not since he was four.  And, his mother's shoes hadn't exactly fit well.  One of those aforementioned embarrassing pictures, courtesy of his big sister who found him, took the picture and shuffled him out of the shoes before either parent found him.  "It's up to you," Sasha said, dismissively, though with an obvious touch of humor in his voice.  "You're in control and I wouldn't want to be accused of disagreeing with you.  But, if you really want to go to the gardens, they're that way," he pointed left.  "The cattle are out towards the right across that field and the lake beyond that and if you continue straight, you'll hit the main driveway.  The house is that big white and red thing right there."