(9:30pm)

The extended curfew had proven to be a distinctly positive unforeseen benefit to being a fifth year and a prefect.  He had a few extra hours to study but, still, at some point, he had to retreat to the more crowded confines of the Ravenclaw common room.  On most days, by the time he was finally chased out of the library, half of the younger students had, usually, gone to bed.  All in all, it had made it easier to study - or tend to other matters - without too many prying eyes or ears. 

And, a table in a quiet back corner of the library was where Sasha found himself on this Wednesday evening.  A runes dictionary, his arithmancy and potions textbook were stacked on one side of him with a stray french-english dictionary interspersed in the stack.  His divination notebook was laid flat in front of him and a his first letter home of the term was laid out on the open pages of the notebook. 

It always seemed remarkable to Sasha that it was the big lies that were easier - their answers seemed, somehow, much more obvious.  When his father asked: how is European History going or how did he do on his first physics quiz, Sasha knew exactly what he was supposed to say.  But, it was the odd questions - the ones that asked for random odd details that always seemed the most difficult.  Like ... his step-father's most recent question.  Sasha could even hear his step-father's snide, condescending tone through the writing: How is it we pay all this money for this prestigious international school and you don't have access to email to write letters home?  How was he supposed to answer that?  It seemed like Sasha's previous excuses involving the discipline building of writing by hand were running thin. 

But, Sasha's encounter with Neely had taught him a few things about the hazards of letter writing - now all his correspondences were written in German in the event of any attempted (or even successful) interceptions.  Sasha hunched over the page, scribbling out attempt after attempt of excuses for the lack of email.  None of them sounded at all passable and were, quickly, being cast aside as something passed between his paper and the lantern, casting a shadow on his page. 

"Allo," Sasha offered, glancing up from the page and towards whoever had cast the shadow.

 The common room was just too noisy, and Fergie had tired of it. Honestly, did third year girls really have to squeal that much? They were utterly ridiculous and had no consideration for others. When he told them to quiet down they'd just giggled. So, fed up and wishing to avoid the lost points and other trouble that would be involved if he gave into the desire to hex them all into silence, he had packed up his books and parchment into his bag and made his way into the library.

 This was much better, and as he stepped into the massive room filled with dusty bookshelves, he felt a bit better already. Fergie liked people, he really did. He was a very extroverted young gentleman. But there came a point when even he liked a little peace and quiet, away from the crowd. What better place to seek that than this?

 And then he'd spotted Sasha. Well, there was no harm in having a little company, was there? Particularly when that company was an attractive, seemingly sensible young man who appeared to be studying as well. "Evening," he greeted the other boy, favoring him with a breezy smile. "Mind if I join you? I promise I won't be a bother," he added, eyelashes fluttering. Consider the charm officially turned on.

outfit

Halfway through explaining, once again, that the school administration believed handwritten letters had more significance than informal emails, a voice drew Sasha's attention up from the page.  Ferguson Amherst.  He was one of the few boys in their year that seemed to understand that dressing for success was as valuable for boys as girls.  While the Slytherin seemed to share Sasha's sense of fashion, Sasha had always marveled at (and, admittedly, somewhat envied) the other's confidence and sense of self assuredness. 

He offered the young man a shy though amiable grin and shifted his things, making room at the table.  "Good evening."  He slid the half-written letter between the pages of one of the textbooks before turning back to the other young man.  "I ... yeah - you can.  I mean, of course you wouldn't be a bother.  I wasn't exactly diligently studying."  Or studying at all.  Though, he should be.  "Got distracted," he added, apologetically. 

In an attempt to appear studious, Sasha looked down at the notebook open in front of him.  "I don't ... does the Divination stuff-" Looking up from his notebook, Sasha's eyes widened as he watched the young man's eyelashes flutter.  He glanced over his shoulder, fully expecting to find someone standing behind him.  But, there was nothing but shelves of books behind him.  He turned back towards Fergie and offered an awkward grin.  "work or - make sense to you?"  He finished, quietly, distractedly. 

Quickly searching for a topic, Sasha dropped his gaze to his notebook.  "Can you believe the scene Sellaphix made in History of Magic?  I hope our professor doesn't think we're all ... uncouth." 

 The other boy's smile had just the right mixture of friendly and shy, as far as Fergie was concerned. Sasha Schlagenweit? He was an absolute doll. The Slytherin suddenly found himself quite glad that the common room had been so noisy, and sent up a silent prayer of thanks for silly thirteen year old girls. They had clearly had his best interests at heart, whether they were aware of it or not. Had they not chased him out of the common room, he wouldn't have been able to have this opportunity to get to know Sasha better. And at this point, he was pretty sure that he definitely wanted to take that opportunity.

 "Fabulous!" He exclaimed, pleased, flashing a grin at the blond boy and sitting down, plopping his bag onto the table as he did so. "Distracted?" he inquired, raising his eyebrows as he took his parchment and ink pot out of his bag, arranging them neatly onto the table. "Now what could be in this dusty old place to distract anyone? That's the very reason I came down here - no distractions." Well, no distractions other than the boy he was not sitting across from. But that one...that one was okay.

 Sasha's eyes widened when the eyelash fluttering started, and he looked over his shoulder. Fergie waited, cautious, for a moment, but although the other boy seemed to be a little more awkward after this point, he did not become at all hostile. That was a good sign, and left the Slytherin feeling amused rather than dismayed. The awkwardness was rather charming, actually.

 "Of course it works," he returned the boy's grin with one of his own - a genuine smile, rare from Ferguson Amherst. He was more of a smirker in general. "Otherwise they wouldn't be teaching it, would they? Parents would have a fit." He took his Charms textbook out of his bag, and flipped it open. "I'm quite good at it, actually. I could try reading your palm," he offered, glancing up at Sasha with an impish expression. "If you want."

 As for Sellaphix... "I had front row seats to that particular event," he replied, shuddering at the memory. Why anyone would want to draw an almost naked woman on their stomach (not to mention show it off to others by making it dance) was beyond him. "I'm sure, however, that the professor is intelligent enough to discern that some students are of a less...how shall I put this?...insane turn of mind."

Now, Sasha had always considered himself one who took a fair amount of enjoyment in studying and academic work.  There was something about sitting down and tackling some puzzle-like Ancient Runes translation that left Sasha quietly contented.  But, even from Sasha's perspective, the dark-haired Slytherin across from him seemed to be oddly too excited about settling down at the table to study. 

"I ... it's not that dusty," Sasha replied, quickly, but, despite his initial assurance with his proclamation, he couldn't resist discreetly brushing his hand along the table top, just to be sure.  It certainly wouldn't have passed his mother's inspection but there were certainly far dustier locations in the castle.  "But, yeah.  It was a purposeful distraction, though."  Did that make it better?  "I was working on the requisite first letter home, you know?  Letting them know abut classes and the ... you know ... prefect thing.  Let them know their money's not being wasted."  He offered a slight grin and shrugged his shoulders.  "So, I was distracted but not goofing off." 

Of course, Divination was bound to work for someone.  Sasha wasn't about to assume that Hogwarts would offer a completely useless subject.  And, Neely claimed to be quite capable at Divination.  And, well, Sasha's parents would have a fit about the class whether or not it worked.  But, that was besides the point.  Intellectually, Sasha knew it was bound to work but it still never failed to boggle his mind that someone could look at a round ball of glass and see anything of use.  "So ... you see stuff?"  Sasha asked, a touch of awe or, perhaps, jealousy in his voice.  "And ... it was true?  Or made sense?  I - what?" 

Sasha's eyes widened and he felt compelled to look down at the palm of his hands.  His eyes narrowed as he studied his own hands.  There was plenty he could read there for himself - they were fairly large and the skin was smooth, a tribute to the careful care (and ample cream) he paid his hands.  But, despite the care, the traces of a history of manual labor were there - they were plenty muscular and his fingers sported smooth but easily defined callouses.  As far as Sasha could tell, his hands were an obvious reflection of his past.  But, he could see no traces of anything that'd point to the future. 

And, as much as he was often intimidated by the future, he couldn't help being curious.  About whether the other young man really could find something as well as what he might find.  After the few moments of awkward, self-hand-reflecting hesitation, he offered the Slytherin one of his hands.  "If it says I'm going to flunk any OWLs, I don't want to hear about it," he said.  Goodness knows, he didn't need the added stress.  He'd never sleep.  But, then, if he knew ahead of time, maybe he could study more.  Until his hands said he wouldn't fail.  "Or...maybe I do." 

"It wasn't even a very good drawing.  The eyes were out of proportion." Sasha said, before scowling slightly.  What did that have to do with anything? Would it have been less distasteful if the eyes had been proportional?  "She seems reasonable though I think she'll grade harder than Professor Binns," Sasha said of the professor.  "I met her when I was doing carriage rides at Woodcroft Day.  How was your summer?  Did you make it to the festival?"

 Not that dusty? One immaculately groomed eyebrow rose, an amused smirk accompanying it. "You must not be reading any of the old books, then," he stated, although how anyone could avoid reading an old book in this particular library was beyond him. He guessed that the Hogwarts library hadn't changed at all in at least twenty years. The place was just screaming to be redecorated.

 That's right - Sasha had recently been named a prefect. "Congratulations," he told the other boy, smiling and nodding toward the badge. "My friend Jordyn recently got her badge as well. Are you enjoying the power or dreading the responsibilities that come with it?" He inquired. "Either way, I'm sure your parents will be quite pleased." He knew his own were a bit disappointed that he hadn't acquired a badge. Fergie, however, was pleased with the arrangement. He had friends in power, and none of the responsibility. This worked for him.

 As for the divination subject..."Well, I'm not saying that I'm an honest-to-Godric seer or anything," he was quick to say, not wanting to advertise his abilities as being more than they were. "I don't go into trances and spout prophecies or anything. I did once have a dream that I ate blueberry pie and it was served at dinner the next evening, but that's more than likely just a coincidence." He grinned. "However, with things like...reading the fog in the crystal ball, or interpreting cards, and seeing shapes in tea leaves...I'm not going to say my readings are always one hundred percent accurate, but they're usually pretty decent."

 Sasha scanned his own hand for several moments, but eventually extended it to Fergie, who couldn't hide the pleased smile this gesture elicited. Ugh, the Ravenclaw boy was too cute. "It probably won't tell me what your OWL scores are going to be, but I'll see what I can do." He grinned.

 The Slytherin took the other boy's hand gently, holding it palm up with one of his own as he leaned over it, studying it. "Well this is your life line," he explained, tracing the line that swooped around to the base of the thumb with one finger. "According to this, you're going to have a long, healthy life. Which should be good news for you. See, mine has this little ring in the middle of it," he held out his free hand so the other boy could see - his other hand was still holding Sasha's. "So I'm due for some kind of accident at some point. Brilliant. I'm hoping it's something I can be unconscious for," he joked. "I'm a huge baby when it comes to pain.

 "Now this line," Fergie returned his focus to the other boy's palm, tracing another line. "This is your money line. You can look forward to unexpectedly coming into money through luck of some sort." He dropped the boys hand, not without a little reluctance. Sahsa had very nice hands. "It's not very specific, as you can tell," he said, with an apologetic shrug. "Probably there are others who could tell you more from it...but that's all I've got. You've got very soft hands, by the way," he commented, and added curiously, "What lotion do you use?"

 How funny was it that the bad quality of the drawing seemed to offend Sasha so? Fergie found himself enjoying the Ravenclaw's company more with each passing moment. "Yes, terribly shabby art," he agreed, eyes dancing with laughter. "But then I suppose it's not easy to use your own stomach as a canvas. Personally, I wouldn't try it. But Figaro is a very...singular person."

 Ferguson definitely agreed that Lumpkin would be much stricter when it came to grades than Binns had been. Binns had hardly noticed what was going on in his class most of the time, just droned on and on. A new professor would be a refreshing change. "I unfortunately did not make it to the festival. My family was on vacation at the time," he explained. "I did, however, have an excellent summer. We went on a cruise, and my moronic older brother moved out. How was yours?"

Sasha looked across the table, his brow wrinkled slightly in curiosity.  "Not without a quick dusting repellent charm."  It wasn't like the quick charm would do the books any harm and it saved his hands from getting dried out from the powdery dust.  Sasha followed the Slytherin's nod to the badge on his chest and shrugged dismissively though the slight flush betrayed he was pleased with the turn of events.  "Thanks."  Despite Neely's insistence he was a shoe-in, Sasha had been skeptical until the badge had fallen out of his letter on the Hogwarts Express. 

"I was certain Headmistress Snark was going to give it to someone else."  Between hexing him at the End of Year feast and the ordeal at the Sorting Ceremony, Sasha was certain the new Headmistress had it out for him.  "Responsibility like swimming first years across the lake when they fall out the boats?"  Sasha asked, grinning, the whole incident of walking into the Great Hall soaking wet during the feast now seeming quite amusing. 

Ferguson could be as modest as he wanted, Sasha was still impressed.  How did anyone make sense of the cloudy strangeness in an opaque glass ball?  The other's success with the tea leaves and card reading proved to overshadow the lacking prophecies.  "That's better than I've managed," Sasha admitted.  "Have you ever - you know - read something that scared or surprised you?  Do you ever ... are you ever not sure about what you might see?"  Sasha was intrigued by being able to see the future but, at the same time, was always uneasy about what he might find. 

Sasha looked down at his own hand cradled in Ferguson's.  To afford himself a better view of what Ferguson was describing, he tucked his legs underneath him on his chair and leaned across the table.  "How - how do you ... what are you seeing?"  Sasha asked, tracing his life line with his other hand before reaching his own hand to follow Ferguson's life line.  But, as his hand neared Ferguson's, he froze.   Another splash of color brushed across his cheeks and he tucked his free hand in his lap. 

"So - there's no way to avoid the accident?"  Sasha asked.  "Or - where the ... you know ... money will come from."  He frowned slightly as he considered his own palm, his other hand still secure in his lap.  "I ... what?"  Sasha looked up, startled, as the other's compliment drew her attention from the creases in his hand.  Soft?  "Thanks?  I ... well, I use a cream I use on my horse.  It doesn't smell as much as some of the other stuff."  Was he supposed to ask about Ferguson's hands in return?  Assuming it was probably as awkward to do so as it seemed, Sasha opted against it.

"Oh!  Where did you go on the cruise?  Any place exciting?"  Sasha figured vague approximations of the truth was probably the best tactic to take.  He didn't know what to expect what would come from his interview with Rita Skeeter.  "It was busy, mostly.  I had an internship for part of the summer.  I had horse shows and polo games most weekends.  Went home to my grandparents' place in Germany." 

 A dusting repellent was such a simple solution - so why hadn't Fergie thought of that before? He tilted his head to the side and considered, eying Sasha with an expression that was obviously a little impressed. "You've got a lot of common sense, don't you?" he commented, then grinned. "My mum is always saying I need more of that."

 He was humble, too, as was evidenced by the way he downplayed receiving the badge. Personally, if it had been Fergie? He would have been bragging to anyone who would listen. "Well you must be something if she gave you the badge despite apparently disliking you," he pointed out. "You should be proud. You're intelligent, good looking, a prefect, you save first years from drowning...is there anything about you that isn't perfect?" Fergie teased. "You must have girls lined up around the block."

 Sasha seemed very curious about the whole divination thing. This both surprised and pleased the Slytherin, as although it happened to be one of his favorite classes, most people either didn't seem interested in it or turned their noses up in disdain. Which he supposed he could understand - it wasn't always accurate or reliable, after all. But it was fun.

 "Scared me? Not really," he replied to the other boy's inquiry, shrugging. "But it's definitely surprised me before. I try not to take it too seriously, or think that everything I might divine is fact. I look at it this way - the future is a constantly changing thing. Every little decision you make effects what's going to happen to you. So who's to say that what you see today is really what's going to happen tomorrow? Plus," he added, "I'm not a seer, like I said. And I'm not an expert on the subject either. So there's always the chance that I've interpreted something wrong."

 Of course, he had a bit of double standard where this was concerned. It was only the bad things he doubted. Anything good that he happened to divine was taken as absolute. But frankly he'd rather be optimistic about the future than freaking out over it.

 "How - how do you ... what are you seeing?" Sasha asked. He was sitting on his knees now, leaning over their hands. It reminded him of when he was little, and his father would bring home something new and exciting from one of his trips, and would teach Fergie a little about it. It was adorable.

 Sasha retraced his lifeline, and made a move towards Fergie's hand, but stopped and quickly withdrew his hand before it got there. Fergie felt a little disappointed at that, but tried not to show it. He cleared his throat and continued. "It's all in the length and depth of the line," he explained, reaching up with his free hand to push his hair out of his eyes. "And how the lines intersect and what paths they take. It's actually pretty simple, once you memorize what that all means."

 He dropped the other boy's hand (not without a little reluctance, to be quite honest), and leaned back in his chair a little. "Well, like I said, it's not usually set in stone. Just gotta make sure you make the right choices to either reach or avoid that particular fate." The Slytherin shrugged. "Divination's not really concrete, except about actual prophecies, as far as I can tell. I wouldn't say it always gives you the right answers, and I definitely wouldn't say that it didn't leave you wondering sometimes - but it gives you hints. And it's pretty useful when you want to know what the weather will be like," he joked.

 His comment on the softness of Sasha's hands flustered the other boy a little. Well, he supposed it was probably unexpected - at least coming from another guy. He smiled, amused (although not in the usual condescending way), as the Ravenclaw stumbled over his words. A horse cream? Well, that didn't sound exactly to Fergie's tastes. But it obviously worked...maybe he'd have to look into that.

 "We went to the Caribbean," he answered, reaching into his bag and digging out a box of sugar quills. Opening it, he withdrew one and plucked it into his mouth before offering one to Sasha. "We go every year. It's pretty nice - a bit too sunny for me. I burn, you see," he explained, motioning to his face. "Burn and freckle. Not a pretty sight. Fortunately, there was enough to do indoors that I didn't have to spend time in the sun if I didn't want to. How was Germany?"
 

With a slightly awkward grin, Sasha shrugged slightly.  He wasn't sure - he always considered himself fairly logical.  "Well, I'm a Ravenclaw, aren't I?"  And, in so many ways, Sasha was a model representative of Rowena's house.  Quiet, studious, logical and willing to put in hardwork towards his goals.  As his schedule was a testament to.  "But, you ... you're smart.  I've heard you in class.  You should tell your mother." 

"I ... Well..."  Sasha looked down at his books, sitting back in his seat, shifting uncomfortably.  Taking compliments had never been Sasha's strong suit and now, certainly, wasn't any different.  Frowning, Sasha slowly shook his head, setting his quill to the paper and scratching out a random shape along the edge of his parchment.  "Everyone has faults."  And strengths, of course. 

"Wha - what?"  Color flooded Sasha's face as he stared across at Fergie.  Girls lined around the block?  Him?  Sasha couldn't resist the temptation to look over his shoulder once more, just to verify he hadn't missed someone standing behind him that the Slytherin must be talking to.  But, the space behind him was just as empty as it had been a few moments before.  If Fergie only knew how pathetic the truth was.  All he had was a make-believe girlfriend ... wait.  Correction.  Make-believe ex-girlfriend and a friend that pretended to be his girlfriend for his parents' sake.  "I'm not - I'm not exactly, you know.  Boyfriend material." 

Strangely, Sasha wasn't sure the explanation was really helping Divination's case any.  "So - if it isn't fact ... and it can change ... how -" He hesitated a moment, not wanting to offend Fergie.  But, the curiosity simmered.  "How is it different then just guessing?  It's not like anyone would be able to tell whether it's just a guess or if it's just ... changed."   

Or, in other words, how was Sasha supposed to know when he got it right?  How was it he seemed incapable of getting an "O" in the class when, in the end, they were just unverifiable guesses? 

"Well, muggles can divine what the weather will be like," Sasha offered with a slight smirk.  It wasn't exactly divining - more complicated equations and weather models and the sort. 

Sasha's eyes lit up with interest.  "The Caribbean!  Wow, really?"  He asked, impressed.  A cruise to the Caribbean - how exotic that sounded.  "That must have been fantastic.  What... what all did you do?  I hear they often have really good food.  That must be pretty nice - going every year.  Where do you sail from?"  Sasha nodded in understanding - he knew what it was like to fry in the sun.  "Yeah - I usually toast to a crisp when I go skiing over the winter break.  Luckily, there's more foliage during the summer in the mountains." 

"It was nice to be back in real mountains.  And, of course, the beer."  He smirked.  One of the important highlights of visiting home.  "My grandparents are a little awkward to be around but the family place is nice.  And, I got to see a couple football matches down in Munich - it's a muggle sport.  Not as exciting as quidditch, I know, but I love the team."

 "Oh, she knows I'm smart," Fergie answered, grinning a little with self-pride. Unlike the Ravenclaw, taking a compliment was the easiest thing in the world to him. He loved being told what he was good at. "But smart and sensible are two different things. You're lucky enough to have both."

 The compliment he had given the Ravenclaw seemed to make Sasha very uncomfortable, if the way he couldn't make eye contact and awkwardly shifted around was any indication. Everyone has faults. It was an obvious statement, of course, but Fergie didn't like the self-deprecating tone the blond boy gave it. He shook his head, smiling and rolling his eyes. Maybe he should make it one of his projects in future to accustom Sasha to recieving compliments.

 Sasha's reaction to his other comment, however, had the Slytherin laughing out loud. "Yes, I'm talking to you," he told the boy, thoroughly amused, as the blond looked over his shoulder. He was adorable. "And honey, you are definitely boyfriend material, believe me." He leaned forward, leaning his elbow on the table top and his chin in his hand, smiling at the boy. "I'll bet you a galleon that if I ran out into the hallway and asked the nearest girl third year and up if you were boyfriend material, they'd say yes."

 Perhaps he wasn't explaining Divination to the best of his ability. Fergie frowned, thoughtful. "I suppose it can be a bit like guessing at times, but I'd call it...educated guessing. Divination gives you more facts to work with. I'm sorry," he shook his head, shrugging. "I'm afraid I'm not explaining this very well."

 Muggles could devine the weather? Fergie's brow wrinkled at that. "I suppose that's something to do with...science?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. His family had been pureblood for as long as could be remembered - he hadn't exactly been exposed to much muggle culture. Nor had he been all that interested in doing so. Knowledge of muggle related things just wasn't something he'd ever seen himself needing. He'd been raised in the wizarding world, after all, and that was where he intended to live his adult life. But science, he'd been told, was what muggles used in place of magic. Muggles were weird.

 He was much more in his element when discussing his summer vacation. "Oh, not a lot, really. Cruises seem glamorous and all, and I suppose they can be, but when you go with my family..." he wrinkled his nose. "My older brother likes to ruin any kind of fun I would like to have." And of course, even though Marmaduke had finally moved out of their ancestral home, he'd still gone on vacation with them. Sigh. Would he never escape his idiot brother? "There was dancing, which was fun, some shows, a lot of swimming, and a lot of smoothies drank out of coconuts with little umbrellas." This was, to be honest, his favorite part of the whole trip. It just made him feel cool. "The cuisine is excellent, which is good, because I am horribly picky. We sailed from San Juan," he continued. He felt a bit like he was talking too much, but well...Sasha had asked. Obviously he wanted to know. "And ended up in Aruba."

 To be honest, Fergie had never cared much for mountains. He wasn't a particularly...outdoorsy person. A little skiing was all right, but when his family went he usually spent most of his time at the lodge, sitting by the fire and sipping hot cocoa. But Sasha didn't need to know that. "Oh, I love the mountains!" he exclaimed. "They're so...picturesque, aren't they?" That part was true. He just preferred to look at them on a post card. "I have to admit, I've never actually tried beer. Is it good?"

"Well, it's better than the alternative, right?"  Sasha asked, shrugging slightly.  Being sensible was, after all, a conscious decision.  One could choose to be sensible or insensible.  It was harder to simply choose to be smart.  "I mean, you could be ... you know ... sensible but less-then-smart."  Color bloomed on the apples of his cheeks at, yet, the next compliment and he shrugged slightly, his gaze dropping, yet again. 

He had a strong urge to offer some qualifier, much like his previous 'everyone has flaws' comment.  He was a hard worker - he over thought things.  All of these arguments flashed through his mind.  Accepting compliments meant accepting where you were.  If you accepted where you were you had no motivation to improve.  No motivation was weakness and laziness.  At least, that was how his grandfather usually saw it. 

With a quick shake of his head, he drove that thought from his head and forced himself to look up.  But, the compliments were continuing to come.  "Me?"  He repeated though, by now, between the combination of the lack of other people and the blunt insistence of 'yes, you' made that quite clear.  Smart, yes.  Sensible, certainly.  Sometimes blatantly naive?  Quite often.  Honey?  His eyebrows arched slightly in confusion but the other's offer (threat?) quickly took precedence. 

"I ... you.  You wouldn't?"  He asked, finding the bet slightly - well, scandalous was an exaggeration.  It was a mortifying, embarrassing thought.  Again, color hinted at his cheeks and he shook his head.  "I just - I'm not - Girls want ... you know..."  Actually, Sasha wasn't really sure what the end of the sentence should be.  Presumably, by leaving it hanging, Fergie would.  "But, if you watch them - they're always going after boys like - well, Devlin.  Or - " 

"Well, yeah.  Science.  Jet streams and air currents and all that.  It's ... lots of math."  Chances were that didn't make it sound very interesting.  "We - I mean muggles use a lot of math.  It's kind of their - you know.  Magic."  The substitution of "We" for "muggles" had been an unintentional but common one for him.  Especially at the end of summer.  He was 'supposed' to be studying physics that year - along with calculus and French.  In addition to the full schedule of Hogwarts classes.  Somewhere in his stack of books was a handful of much more mundane texts.  Unfortunately, so far, none of them had anything exciting like cloud formations. 

"Well, family can kind of damper things, can't it?"  Sasha said, smiling understandably.  Still - cruise ships were big, weren't they?  It must be easy to avoid them.  That was the real advantage of being in the mountains.  There was plenty of room and plenty of reason to avoid them.  But, the animosity shown towards his brother was hard to overlook.  "You and your brother don't get along?"  He asked, tentatively. 

"So, is the water really ... you know, as blue as they say?  Is it like Barco Costa in Spain?"  The few times his family had made it to the Southern Spanish coast, he'd always marveled at how crystalline the water was - like a post card or a movie.  "I've never really been out of Europe," he admitted.  "Though, I've been all over to shows and expeditions - we're always too busy.  Summers almost seem busier than the school year.  But, I'd love to go one day." 

Taking the remark about mountains being picturesque as a form of invitation, Sasha dug in his bag for a small, muggle photo album.  Most of the pictures slipped between the cellophane pages were of various horses, him riding at shows and of a large, sable german shepherd dog.  But, he flipped to a handful of pictures of an alpine lake surrounded by tall peaks.  "They aren't quite the peaks in Switzerland - we're still rather low.  But, it's still pretty expansive.  I wish they'd let us explore more here around school," he admitted.  For four years, he'd been craving getting into the mountains around the castle - despite the warnings about the forbidden forest. 

For reference

 Sasha made a good point - possessing one more than the other was better than the alternative. Fergie would spare a lot of things if it meant being able to keep his intelligence. Good looks and charm (of which he liked to think he had an adequate amount) could only get a person so far. In order to be successful in life, one needed to possess a certain amount of intelligence. Fergie intended to go far, he needed his intelligence.

 It didn't take a genius, however, to read the panic in Sasha's eyes at his suggested bet. Fergie tilted his head to one side, eying the other boy as he fumbled over his words. Did he really have that little self confidence? That was crazy. The Slytherin couldn't help but shake his head and heave a sigh.

 "Sasha...are you a girl?" He inquired, raising his eyebrows. The answer, of course, was obviously no.  "Then how do you know what they want? You're a quidditch player," he continued, figuring this would be the analogy that would make the most sense to the Ravenclaw. "Would you forfeit a game without even trying? Give yourself a chance. Also, Devlin is an arse." Fergie grinned. "Girls only think they want him, till they get close enough to smell him. You smell nice enough, so you've already got one up on him."

  Muggles were...odd. Sort of genius, however, if you thought about it. They couldn't use magic, but they were absolutely brilliant at coming up with alternatives. Still, Fergie didn't think he'd ever understand them. They moved in mysterious ways. It was extremely difficult to imagine functioning without magic. He was all right at math, but not good enough at it that he would prefer using it to waving a wand. Judging from the way he had initially said 'we', Sasha had experience with both worlds. "I'm curious..." Fergie admitted thoughtfully. "Who has it easier - wizards or muggles? What do you think?"

 Oh my Godric. Did he and his brother get along? That was like asking if the sun rose at nighttime. (In case you were wondering - it did not.) "To say we don't get along is...a massive understatement," he shook his head, laughing a little. "He likes to make my life miserable, I try to stay out of his way. Doesn't always work, unfortunately. Should be easier now though," he ended on an optimistic note, brightening. He would never have to share a home with Duke again. Marvelous. "How do you get on with your family? If you don't mind me asking," he added, fluttering his eyelashes at the boy again.

 "Well, I've never been to Barco Costa," Fergie had to admit,  "but the water is very blue. It's very pretty." He pushed his charms book to the side. Clearly he wasn't going to get much work done this evening, although to be honest he didn't mind. He'd rather chat with Sasha. "Wait so...you go home over the summer, and spend most of it working?" Consider him appalled. "When do you get a real break?"

 Fergie was a very curious boy. Always had been. It was just one of the many things that Duke, in particular, didn't like about him. So when Sasha started digging around in his bag and produced a small photo album, Fergie could feel that old sense of curiosity coming over him once more. You could tell a lot about a person by the kinds of photos they kept with them. "Switzerland, Shmitzerland, this place looks amazing," he told the other boy, leaning forward on his elbows to get a better look at the alpine themed photos. "This is where your grandparents live?"

Sasha couldn't help but notice the other boy's sigh and shake of his head.  Interpreting the gesture as disappointment, Sasha shook his head, offering an apologetic grimace.  "I'm sorry," he offered, quietly, though not exactly sure what he was apologizing for.  But, it was usually a safe, default gesture. 

The Slytherin's question took Sasha by surprise.  It seemed blatantly obvious - obvious enough that there was bound to be a hidden meaning behind the question.  "Obviously not," Sasha answered, slowly, baffled.  What was Ferguson getting at?  Okay - part of Fergie's question was valid.  Who could really understand what girl's wanted?  Perhaps girls got some manuscript that was kept secret from boys that explained the way they worked. 

"I - but, Quidditch ... You've smelled Devlin Matthews?"  Sasha asked, arching an eyebrow before, despite himself, chuckling slightly.  Chances were, it was best if Sasha just assumed the comment had been figurative.  "Quidditch is a game," Sasha said, returning to the real issue at hand.  "It has rules that everyone understands and everyone ... well not everyone follows.  You Slytherins are rather liberal with your interpretations of the rules.  I - "  Give himself a chance?  That drew Sasha's babbling to a temporary close and he sat back in his chair. 

His question was, definitely, a curious one.  "What do you mean, easier?" he asked.  It was a question Sasha had to give some thought, tapping the tip of his quill on his parchment, before offering an answer.  "You're ... you're pureblood, aren't you?"  There was no criticism in the question, though a slight touch of wariness might have showed through.  "Wizards, I think.  Most muggles are oblivious to the the alternative, right?  I mean, I didn't have a clue before my letter - so, in some ways it's easier for them.  But, magic accomplishes so much we haven't figured out in the muggle world and ... there's a constant drive for progress.  More so then in the wizarding world." 

But, really, the difference seemed more subtle between muggles and purebloods.  Sasha had always envied how simple it must before for those who had either all or nothing.  "But, in general, I think it's just generally easier when you can ... just stick to one world?  Skirting both worlds - it isn't easy."  Shaking his head, Sasha set his quill down.  "Sorry.  That was probably more than you wanted to hear."

"How so?" Sasha asked before catching himself.  But, the Ferguson was laughing - clearly the topic didn't seem that uncomfortable.  "Your brother - is he just ... difficult to get along with."  But, of course, turn around was fair play.  "I get along pretty well with my older sister, but I haven't seen her in a couple years.  My mother and stepfather -"  he chewed his lip slightly in thought and shook his head slightly.  Still, ever speaking ill of Gerhard felt uncomfortable.  "- have pretty high expectations.  I don't really know my father so - who knows."  He shrugged.

Alright - so the talk of blue water and fancy ships was good.  But, Sasha really wanted to hear about the interesting stuff.  "Do you ever see sharks?"  He asked, curiously.  Momentarily forgetting the Slytherin was unlikely to recognize the reference, he asked, eagerly, "are they as big as Jaws?"  Sasha grinned slightly as the other slid his books to the side, clearly abandoning the attempts to study.  Which was, probably, alright.  A short break was probably not a bad thing. 

"Well - kind of.  if lessons and shows are work.  Days are still shorter than here at school."  He enjoyed riding but, sometimes, the non-stop show schedule was stressful and Sasha found he'd much prefer just taking a long trail ride.  But that rarely happened.  "I have to help with the cattle.  I guess the winter break's slower - there aren't any shows and you can't herd cattle in a blizzard, right?" 

Sasha nodded down at the picture the Slytherin was looking at.  "They claim the land's been in the family since the twelfth century.  But, who knows, right?  My grandfather had no sons so I'm supposed to inherit it after he passes."  Assuming he was still in the will when that happened.

 Sorry? Eyebrows arched and brow furrowed, Ferguson Amherst was the picture of confusion. "Why are you apologizing?"he asked, quite puzzled. Had he given off the vibe of being offended? If so, it was without realizing it. "You haven't done anything to be sorry for," he assured the blond.

 Out of all the things he could have said, Fergie was thoroughly amused that the first thing that made it through the stuttering was 'you've smelled Devlin Matthews?' It was such an absurd topic for discussion, if one thought about it. The Slytherin's shoulders shook with suppressed laughter, which after a few moments he allowed to bubble over into audible chuckles. "Oh you are a doll," he exclaimed, grinning and shaking his head. "No I've not actually smelled him. But I've heard rumors." Okay, so he'd made it up. But what harm was a little white lie when one was trying to boost a deserving person's confidence?

 "Girls aren't that difficult to understand." At least, not to Fergie. But then, all his life, most of his friends had been girls. It was boys that he had a more difficult time understanding, to be honest. "They're pretty easy to figure out once you become acquainted with them." Well, except for one week out of the month. Then there was just no rhyme or reason to their actions and moods. It was the only time that Jordyn could frighten even him.

 Was it just him, or did Sasha seem to be a bit...guarded...when he asked for verification on Fergie's bloodline? Of course, given the way some purebloods acted (Callum Knight for instance), he supposed one couldn't blame the Ravenclaw. Even his parents, although they showed no malice towards those of muggle heritage, seemed to think they had an innate superiority over them. Fergie himself didn't understand the fuss, to be honest. As far as he could see, being muggleborn or halfblood had no more effect on a person's magical ability than being pureblood did. "Yes," he answered simply. "Does that...bother you?"

 It was kind of a funny situation. A pureblood asking a muggleborn (at least, he was assuming Sasha was muggleborn) if he was okay with his bloodline? Not exactly something that happened every day.

 Personally, Fergie was a big fan of pressing towards progress. If there was one thing he could change about the wizarding world, it would be how stuck in the past it was - or at least the corner of it he lived in was. "Do you think having magic makes us too...complacent?" he asked. "With the way things are? I mean, Godric knows I love being a wizard, but a lot of us are a bit...old fashioned, I suppose, in our ideas."

 And there he went apologizing again. Fergie shook his head. "No, I asked," he told the boy, leaning back in his chair once more and pondering what the blond had said. "I think you're right...I wouldn't want to attempt balancing both worlds. It would be too confusing. If you had to choose just one," he inquired, "wizard or muggle, which would you choose?"

 "Hard to get along with..." the Slytherin repeated, picturing his brother in his mind's eye. "Well, that depends. If you're one of those arrogant, macho guys, or a stick thin, pretty girl, he's quite easy to get along with. But otherwise he's basically just an arse. He hates me because I'm more intelligent than he is, and not at all athletic. He pretty much thinks that if you're different, you're useless. Which makes him a pleasant chap, lovely to be around," he rolled his eyes, his tone obviously sarcastic. "Couldn't be more glad that he moved out."

 High expectations...Fergie felt that he could relate to that. While his mother pretty much adored him, he always felt that he never quite lived up to his father's standards. Somehow Duke managed to do so effortlessly, which didn't make any sense to Fergie, considering Duke had about as much brains as a monkey on billywigs. And he didn't even care what his father thought, really. He took it for granted that he was the goldenboy. Whereas Fergie, when at home, tried his hardest to please his father...and never really seemed to make any progress. "I think..." he said carefully, "I think that's a common problem between children and their parents."

 Jaws? This question confused the Slytherin. He was assuming it had nothing to do with the mandible, as sharks tended to be larger than a human's jawbone, and that would be quite an idiotic question. Sasha didn't strike him as being idiotic. "I don't know what a 'jaws' is, but I have seen sharks, and some of them are pretty big."

 Did Fergie consider lessons and shows to be work? Well, yes. "If you aren't relaxing," he told the blond, "and you are supposed to be on holiday? It's work. And while a little bit of work on holiday is good - keeps you on your toes - it wouldn't really be a proper 'summer break' if you didn't actually take a break during it."

 The twelfth century...Fergie was impressed. "That's an awful long time to hang onto a piece of land," he commented. Pretty cool, if you asked him. A place could collect a lot of history in that amount of time. "But then, I suppose if I owned a piece of land with views like that, I wouldn't want to let go of it either."

"You seemed disa-" Sasha started to offer an explanation but, quickly, stopped himself.  That was, probably, an example of being too honest too readily.  It was true - Ferguson's disappointment had been what prompted that need to apologize but it wasn't, really, the root cause.  He lifted his hands slightly and offered a slight grin.  "It's habit," he explained.  "Neely says I apologize too much." 

Sasha couldn't help but join Fergie's chuckles, shaking his head slightly, though he was relieved to hear the Slytherin confirm he didn't have a habit of sniffing his housemates.  Of course, there were some boys who were simply odorous enough that one couldn't avoid detecting the stench but that seemed different.  "You've heard rumors?  What?  Are there really rumors about ... that kind of thing drifting around?  What do they -"  Nevermind.  He didn't think he wanted to know.

Once you become acquainted with them.  Well, there in lay the problem, didn't it?  It would be a rather big lie for Sasha to claim he was casually acquainted with many members of the opposite sex.  He rarely found himself able to complete a full sentence around them.  But, then, he was only marginally better about that around other boys.  "So - why are they so touchy?"  Sasha asked the self-proclaimed translator.  "I swear - half the things I say around Neely make her angry." 

Sasha quickly shook his head.  "Oh, no. Sorry.  That's not - of course it doesn't.  I'm just -"  Of course he didn't have any problem with Fergie being pureblood - the idea that he might be made no sense.  "It doesn't make a difference.  Except - it just -"  How did he put it best?  "I'm used to having to explain more to purebloods and many of them ... don't really want to know?"  Hopefully, that made sense without making him sound too pretentious.

"Do you remember the last, big magical discovery?"  Sasha asked.  "How many wizards have tried to walk on the moon?"  It seemed obvious to him - muggles were constantly competing - their cultures were so connected.  "Did you hear that over the summer, muggle scientists found proof of water on the planet mars?"  Chances were good, such mundane (in a purely non-magical sense) discoveries didn't make the Daily Prophet.  "I don't know if I'd say wizards are excessively complacent but I don't think - maybe they don't share the same drive?"  He wasn't sure - these  were thoughts and ideas he was really only questioning now because of the other young man's questions. "Well ... do you think we're complacent?

Fergie seemed to possess a knack for asking questions that made Sasha think.  And, that question, Sasha wasn't sure there was really an answer to.  "I don't know.  But, it doesn't really matter - it's not a choice we can make.  You can't really go back.  Things just can't be the same."  It wasn't like he could ever go back and ignore the magical ability he possessed.  "But, if I were ten again and didn't know any of this ... just staying muggle would certainly make things easier."  Maybe not better - just easier.  With a chuckle, he added, "I'd certainly have more free time - my class load's going to kill me one day." 

"Oh," Sasha said, understanding the position he held with his brother, immediately.  His brother didn't sound unlike his step-father.  "So, he's jealous and bitter."  At least, that's what seemed to be gist of his brother.  "He'd probably hate my sister, then.  She tends to consider herself a self-proclaimed feminist.  And calls my step-father out on his ignorance all the time."  A big reason why he hadn't seen her in several years.

"Really?  Do they ever get close to the boat?  Have you ever seen them-"  Sasha clamped his hands closed in a pantomimed illustration of a shark chomping on a fish.  Or surfer.  Or motor boat.  "Jaws was a movie - about a massive great white shark that devours boats and eats people like popcorn.  It's actually kind of a stupid movie, but you tend to avoid swimming for a few weeks after watching it."  Or, maybe, that was just him. 

Well, if Fergie put it that way.  "No.  Between traveling to twenty-five shows, the farm and keeping up with studies, I didn't do a lot of relaxing.  But, my internship helped add a little variety.  But, my step-father doesn't think highly of idle time."