OOC: Continued from this thread.

IC:


A flash of green light and Dreogan sneezed. Once, twice. A curly dark mane of hair appeared first in Ravenclaw Tower fireplace (which mercifully had not been lit, or this could have been much more uncomfortable). Next, the face, which scrunched its nose before, finally, from many miles away, a hand reached up to scratch at it with a knuckle. The hand held a small bit of carefully folded parchment.
 
Try as Dreogan might to grow accustomed to Floo, it left him with a pesky tingling in his nose and watery eyes. Likely an allergy, but the mode of transport was too practical to be discontinued. His eyes skimmed the Common Room with curiosity. He'd never been inside the student areas of Hogwarts. Only those areas accessible at Remembering Day and the general grounds.

"Pardon," he called in a loud voice so as to be heard by anyone who might be out of sight but not out of hearing, "I'm Dreogan Eleor from the Ministry, looking for Sasha Schlagenweit. . ."

The books were scattered over the floor behind the armchair, papers and bottles of ink placed carelessly about her.  She didn’t mind the mess, and there was no one else in the room right now to be bothered by her.  It had been still in the Common Room for nearly half an hour now, allowing Adrienna to become thoroughly engulfed by her homework.  She had an assignment due the next day, and there was no humanly possible way that she was going to allow herself to become distracted.

Easier said than done, of course.

A voice issued from somewhere with in the room, causing her to jump and the tip of her quill to fly off the page.  She huffed in annoyance.  She would have to perform a stain-removing spell on that…

“Pardon,” the voice called. “I'm Dreogan Eleor from the Ministry, looking for Sasha Schlagenweit. . ."

Adrienna stood up, a paper falling from her lap onto the floor, and looked about the room.  There was no one else around, and for a moment she was utterly perplexed for she was positive she had heard someone speak.  Then she recalled that the fire place was connected to the Floo Network, and if the voice belonged to a ministry official, then it must be coming from beneath the mantle.

She scurried over to the fireplace where a face was peeking through the wood.  She didn’t know who the man was exactly, but she figured it would be polite to respond.

“Oh, Sasha?” Adrienna confirmed.  “He isn’t here right now.  May I take a message or is it personal?” She felt oddly like an answering machine… “If so, I’m sure I could fetch him for you.”

Dreogan craned his head as he heard a young, feminine voice come from around . . . a couch somewhere. Ah. There she was.

At her words, Dreogan cracked a bit of a smile, waiting for the beep -- sounded just like Akiva's voicemail. "I'd like to speak with him, if I could. Would you mind fetching him?" he asked somewhat guiltily. It was a Sunday morning. Who knew where he might be. "Ah. . . that is if it's not too much trouble. I'm not --?" He began before shaking his head. "You don't get too many talking heads in here, I presume?"

He looked about the place, thinking it pleasant. Akiva had spent her school days here. It was nice to see. Very different from Gaddol. He noticed Quidditch fliers on the wall . . . and handouts for a Muggle Appreciation Club.

If Sasha was behind that, he was right pleased. "The Muggle Appreciation Club. . ." he began before breaking abruptly off. "Oh! I'm sorry. I'll let you fetch him. Unless, of course, it's too much bother. Do you know where he might be?" Here, Dreogan sneezed. He could only hope it might clear his head some. There was something about having your head in one place and your body in another that never quite allowed for unity of thought. Or body. Or mind.

"I'd like to speak with him, if I could. Would you mind fetching him?  Ah. . . that is if it's not too much trouble. I'm not --?  You don't get too many talking heads in here, I presume?"

Adrienna smirked a bit, “I could fetch him if you wish…  And no I have never witness a head in a fireplace.  But an ingenious idea nevertheless.”

Adrienna saw Eleor’s pupils flicker about the room, and they got hung on the stack of fliers that were posted on the bulletin board.

"The Muggle Appreciation Club. . ." he Dreogan Eleor trailed off in thought for a moment.  "Oh! I'm sorry. I'll let you fetch him. Unless, of course, it's too much bother. Do you know where he might be?"

“I haven’t any clue –“ the man sneezed and Adrienna jumped.  “Bless you.  I have no clue where he may me, sir,” Adrienna admitted.  “But I could call him here easily.” She pulled her wand from her pocket.  “We do have these, after all.”

She smiled playfully as she shook her wand in the air.  Quickly, she went back to her mess of homework and tore a small scrap of parchment from the edge of an unmarked sheet.  She scribbled a note on it.

‘Sasha, you are required in the Ravenclaw Common Room.”

She held the paper flat on her hand as her brain was trying to recall the spell that her mother used at St. Mungo’s to send memos to other nurses.  She knew that some Ministry Officials, in fact, used the same method to communicate throughout the building.  What was that spell?  Oh yes!

“Moneo, Sasha” she ordered the slip of paper.

It began to fly out of room, slipping under the closed door and out into the quiet hallways.  She hoped it would reach him without any damage.  After staring at the door absentmindedly for a second, she shuffled back the fireplace to keep Mr. Eleor company while he waited.

“You said you were from the Ministry, sir?” Adrienna inquired.  “What department?”

"We do have these after all," the witch said.

Dreogan gave a grin at the presentation of the wand. Clever. "So you do," he acknowledged, watching as she sent the message off.

It was particularly uncomfortable, hunching in one's office with a head stuck in a drafty fireplace -- and awkward, if anyone had entered his office to find him crouched behind his desk . . . had he remembered to lock the door? Oh, dear! Had he better go check?

He was brought back to present company when the student spoke, however. Dreogan looked at her -- he hadn't known where else he had been looking, really -- and nodded. "Yes. Department of International Cooperation. I'm over the Near East Office." He was quiet a moment. "I'm sorry. I never got your name. What year are you?"

It never hurt to keep an eye out for new prospective interns. Though his office was still recovering from this summer's.

“Oh, I apologize,” she blushed, when the man pointed out that he did not know what to call her. “My name is Adrienna Hayes, and I’m a fifth year.”

She leaned against the arm of the sofa that sat behind her, staring at her feet.  She didn’t have anything else to ask the man.  She had never been too good at striking up an intriguing conversation, and so she looked at Mr. Eleor and waited for his response.

She did wonder why a man from the Department of International Cooperation would be searching for Sasha, but she assumed it was not her knowledge to obtain.  Her mother always told her that if it wasn’t any of her business, then she would be best to keep her mouth shut.  If Mr. Eleor or Sasha wanted to inform her of their business together, then they would, but she wouldn’t dare inquire on her own.

"Nice to meet you, Adrienna." Sasha's year. Well, what Sasha seemed to want to talk about was career, girls, and family. And while Sasha was his own particular brand of fifteen-year-old, he supposed it could not be far from the mark.

But Miss Hayes did not look particularly interested in talking at all. Though she did not make a motion to move. Should he dismiss her? Engage her in conversation? It was he that was encroaching upon her space, and while he couldn't exactly leave, he could make it pleasant for her. Not awkward.

"You know," he said, raising his eyebrows and looking up -- and only getting a good view of the chute. "This is my first time in any of the student areas in Hogwarts. I'd only been here last May for Remembering Day and a couple of times since then. It's very different from where I went to school . . ." He looked at the curtained, stained-glass windows in awe. "Well, we'd not have the curtains for certain. My last year at my school, there was this first year, Absolom. . .  not very true to his name. He'd get homesick and ornery and would likely  have . . ." he mused a moment before chuckling. "We kept flammables and destructibles away from him when he felt a bit . . . rebellious. There's one in every house. Those curtains would definitely be the first to go." As an afterthought, he added, "Absolom means father of peace. Though I guess his namesake. . ." Dreogan broke off once more, contemplating for a second the rebellious prince to laid to waste his father's kingdom. "Well. It's very nice and you keep it nice here."

That sounded like some sort of domestic compliment. Moving on --

"What subjects are you reading for this year? Any interests in particular?"

"Nice to meet you, Adrienna."

“And you too, sir,” she replied, returning the gesture.

He then took the liberty of telling a story of his days in school, which he mentioned were not at Hogwarts.  Some young boy named Absolom who was a destructive little rascal apparently.  Ironically, Eleor mentioned his name meant “father of peace”, and Adrienna giggled.

“And where did you go to school, if not here?” Adrienna wondered aloud.

Then he complimented the Common Room or the school, Adrienna couldn’t be sure.  Either way she replied, “Thank you.  It is quite comfortable here.  Rather be here than somewhere else, you know.  Even if it is school…”

"What subjects are you reading for this year? Any interests in particular?" Eleor asked, trying to make small talk.

Adrienna was relieved.

“Well, of course I’m studying the core classes: Transfiguration, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions.  Then I chose to take Care of Magical Creatures as my elective,” Adrienna explained.  Then she paused for moment before continuing, “I also rather enjoy quidditch, playing Chaser.”

Well, something in his ramblings seemed to amuse her. This bought a bit more confident of a smile to Dreogan's face. "I went to a school in Jerusalem: Beit Gaddol. It's ah --" How to describe it? "It's . . . Jewish," he concluded, feeling this, for now, sufficed. "It always felt a bit like home, so I understand what you mean," he said, referring to her comment on the comfort of the place.

“Well, of course I’m studying the core classes: Transfiguration, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions. . ."

"Of course," Dreogan input, nodding.

"Then I chose to take Care of Magical Creatures as my elective. I also rather enjoy quidditch, playing Chaser."

Dreogan smiled at this. He'd never cared much for Magizoology-- COMC, here -- but he'd enjoyed quidditch. Never officially. And usually as a spectator. "Chaser. You must be quick, then," he said with a smile. "I hear competition can get a bit rough here, at Hogwarts," he observed.

_{OOC: Sorry to be away so long! And sorry this is so short!}

Sasha hadn't ever been summoned to the Common Room before.  The small, folded airplane that swept in through the open door of the empty classroom and landed on the open page of his herbology textbook was far from the normal sight.  Just as he reached for the folded page, the airplane unfolded itself and lay flat in front of him.

‘Sasha, you are required in the Ravenclaw Common Room.'

It was hard to tell, from the note, whether the summons was good news or bad.  Though, given the trend of the year, it seemed unlikely it was good news.  He could only assume he was being called to the common room in a prefect capacity.

Once he'd gathered his things, he quickly climbed the stairs to Ravenclaw tower and climbed through the portrait hole. 

The common room was empty, except for Adrienna who seemed to be quite relaxed and ... normal.  The scene was, to be frank, anti-climatic.  "What's wrong?" he asked, looking at his classmate before glancing around the room.  It wasn't until Sasha's eyes scanned the room the second time that he noticed the familiar face ... in the fire?

"Sir?" Sasha quickly stepped around to the front of the couches and sat down next to Adrienna.  "Are you ... is something wrong?" he asked, casting a questioning glance towards Adrienna.  He turned back towards Dreogan.  "Isn't ... isn't that uncomfortable?  Why don't you ... just come all the way through?"

"Wrong?" Dreogan asked in the tone of a child caught in the act of disobedience. "No--not, not wrong, exactly. I came across a visitor of yours in London. She got your letter." Dreogan's head now disappeared a moment as he ducked out of the fireplace to reach into the pocket of his jacket. In a surge of green flame, his head once more appeared, and a hand to follow to scratch at his nose.

At the invitation to come in, Dreogan debated. He'd not, exactly, gotten permission to visit Hogwarts. And, for all intents and purposes, he was still in his office. Well, most of him was. "Well . . ." he wet his lips. He'd corresponded with Professor Bombay already; he seemed cordial enough in the letter. "Maybe while I wait for you to pen a response," he agreed, feeling his eyes burning and wishing yet again that he did not have the allergy to Floo that most other wizards seemed unencumbered with.

Dreogan pulled himself out of the fire as one might a pool, elbows first, slowly pushing himself up and scrambling out in a fashion that, certainly, lacked the dignity befitting a Ministry member. God he hated the Floo.

"Her letter," he said, handing it over, glancing over to Adrienna Hayes. "Miss Hayes, it was a pleasure meeting you," he said with a warm smile -- and, he hoped, an unspoken dismissal so they might speak somewhat in private.

Adrienna was relieved when Sasha arrived, memo in hand.  He looked worried as he stepped around the couch and in front of the fireplace.  Apparently he ;knew Mr. Eleor as he talked to him in a semi-casual tone.  But that was the deepest analysis Adrienna offered the situation seeing as it really did not involve her at all.  And because of this she was frankly beyond thankful when Dreogan Eleor politely dismissed her from the room.

“Likewise, sir,” she smiled as she ducked behind the couch to gather her homework.

It did not take her long.  She was always organized so most of the papers were already in their place.  She did not waste time and had her heavy books stacked in her arms before Mr. Eleor could finish two full sentences.  And with that – and one final glance at the pair – she disappeared into her dormitory.

The fire was by no means a roaring inferno but it certainly wasn't a simple iron grill filled with blackened clumps of glowing, white ash-lined wood that had been carbonized to the early stages of charcoal.  About half a dozen healthy tongues of flame danced merrily in the large common room hearth but the curly hair that crowned the head protruding amongst the flames was almost motionless.  He couldn't explain why - there was no physical logic to it - but it seemed like if the flames weren't going to do what fire normally did, at the very least the flames would cause the hair to shift and move.  Like in the wind. 

But, it wasn't the first time magic proved to not make sense.  Sasha tried to ignore that peculiarity to avoid letting his mind fixate on it.  He glanced sideways at Adrienna and offered a sheepish grin as Dreogan pulled himself out of the fire.  "I'm sorry," he offered as his housemate gathered her things, hoping she wasn't too put off by being ousted from the common room. 

"She ... got my," Sasha started as he looked back (and now up) at Dreogan, sounding utterly confused (which he was).  Almost immediately, though, Sasha looked back down under the pretense of shifting a pillow into a better position on the chair.  As Dreogan drew nearer, Sasha had became much more aware - and self-conscious - of the bruise his left eye he had tried cover with his hair and the abrasion on his cheek. 

"Letter?  Who got ... " He was far too use to the two halves of his world remaining firmly isolated.  At first, his mind wasn't even capable of considering the notion that Dreogan Eleor, of the Ministry of Magic, would be coming to see him about his sister.  The notion seemed akin to the Wizard of Oz telling Dorothy that Luke Skywalker had sent her a message. 

The letter, however, gave Sasha a legitimate reason to keep his face turned downward.  The tight and slightly unwieldy penmanship on front of the folded piece of parchment that Sasha took from Dreogan immediately illuminated everything.  "I ... you've seen Jacoba?  In London?"  Sasha asked.  "What did she say?  Is she alright?  I ... I don't understand.  Why is she in London?  She's not going home, is she?"  Sasha had pushed himself to his feet, a tiny bud of panic simmering in his gut not unlike a kernel of corn newly dropped in simmering oil. 

He was now alone with Sasha, but he did not know for how long -- a student could come in at any moment. And a conversation this personal, on display for anyone . . .

Had he had more notice, this might have been managed better. Written in advance.

At the barrage of questions, Dreogna also sat down in a wing-backed chair so he was at Sasha's level. "She's fine -- fine. I met her at a coffee shop she was sitting at while waiting for the transfer to Scotland. She was planning on coming up here to find you. She didn't know much more than, well, Scotland for the direction." He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head downward to catch Sasha's eyes, which seemed to be avoiding his own.

"She also thinks you might be involved in, if i read her right, a sor. . .t--" Dreogan now caught a glimpse of Sasha's cheek and stiffened instantly. "Sasha," he began evenly, "how did that happen?" He pointed to Sasha's cheekbone. Immediately he suspected the boy might contrive some story. He had fallen. Hadn't been looking where he was going.

"Who did that to you?" he furthered, moving towards the edge of his seat. As soon as names were provided, Bombay would be visited. Then, if necessary, Snark. He'd been meaning to talk to her anyhow.

Jacoba was back in the UK - in London, in fact.  Looking for him and had, somehow, managed to cross paths in London.  It was one of those thought processes that, like explaining the laws of gravity to a pureblood, made sense but didn't. 

The unopened envelope still in his hand, Sasha managed to chance a curious glance at the man sitting next to him without looking up by straining his eyes to the side.  His gaze slid back to the letter and, with a finger under the edge, he eased the seal open and lay the piece of parchment flat on his lap.  The muscles in his shoulders tightened, almost painfully, from the tension of anticipation, his sight not quite focusing on the scribbled German at first.  It was like opening the response letter from the college you've applied to.  It could be good news, it could be bad news but, either way, even before you open it, you know you're life is going to change some how. 

Dreogan's voice trailed off and, out of the corner of his eye, Sasha could see the older fellow tense and shift forward in his seat.   Brilliant red flooded Sasha's face and he dipped his head further down - a useless gesture.  It was clear Dreogan had seen what he needed to see. 

"It's nothing," Sasha said quietly.  Sasha was a miserable liar - despite his success in pulling off one massive lie for his family.  He wasn't even going to try - besides, it was already clear Dreogan wouldn't have bought the lie, even if it was believable.  Sasha was a fairly decent rider and a pretty good quidditch player - he wasn't really prone to just falling.  Avoiding the answer rather than lying, though, was much easier.  "It doesn't matter," he added, hastily.  With a resigning sigh, he looked up and shrugged slightly.  "Those three were Slytherins but ... it's usually different kids.  I mean, only one of them really ... got into it.  The one girl just ... kind of ... kisses me to - humiliate me or something.  I don't know.  It wasn't as bad as it ... well, could be." 

Sasha settled back in his seat, turning to the letter in his lap.