This was just extra credit practice - that's all it was.  If Sasha could just convince himself of that, maybe the detention would pass that much faster.  It's just extra practice, it's just extra practice he repeated to himself as he pushed the door to Professor Ramsey's office open.  He obviously hadn't managed to convince himself.  If he really, truly believed them to be no more than extra credit work, he wouldn't have hesitated to share the news.  As it was, he hadn't told anyone, other than Jaocba, about the accusation or the resulting detentions. 

He hoped no one would find out, either.  Being seen at that one, group detention the previous week had been bad enough.  This - this was just pure humiliation.  No amount of pretending this was all a tutor session would change that.

A quiet, reserved, "Evening, ma'am," was the extent of his greeting when he slipped inside the office.  With his head tipped down slightly, he managed to find his way to one of the empty seats and take a seat without looking in Professor Ramsey's direction.  He pulled out his transfiguration book as well as a compiled list of all the transfiguration exercises they had covered - not just from this year, as he'd been instructed, but from the start of his very first year.  It'd been easy enough to do.  Having never brought his school supplies home at the end of the school year, all his immaculate notes since his first year were carefully organized in his trunk. 

He pulled out his two wands last and held the new, smooth, black and white marbled piece of wood right next to the well-worn and much more familiar deep reddish brown wand between his hands.  When Dreogan had first discovered Sasha's mismatched relationship with his wand, the prospect of having to part with his old wand had been unsettling to say the least. As much as he'd been at odds with the thing, it had seen him (more or less) through his introduction to the wizarding world.  He'd felt sad, guilty even, for abandoning the old wand for the new one but, slowly, this one had been growing on him.  At least he thought it did.  He was still carrying around the old one, after all. 

Sasha set them both on top of his Transfiguration book on the desk in front of him and, finally, glanced up in the Professor's direction.  He watched her, expectantly, waiting for her to provide some guidance.  He wasn't, exactly, the most experienced when it came to how these detentions worked.

While waiting for Sasha’s arrival for the first detention he would be serving with her, Morrigan sat at her desk working on a correspondence to her sister.  These letters usually brought out a mix of emotions from the redheaded professor.  Her sister was the one who had stayed close to home, settled down, taken over the family business, and, perhaps most importantly, had a family of her own.  At forty Morrigan was well aware that even given the slower rate of aging among the magical community that time for her was quickly running out.  She had always seen her students as her children in a way, but lately it hadn’t been the same.

"Evening, ma'am.”

“Good evening, Mr. Schlagenweit,” she returned, setting down the quill she had been using to look up at him as he sat.

His head was bowed and he didn’t return her gaze.  She watched him a bit curiously as he sat; pulling out his book along with a list that seemed far longer then just the spells they had covered in class during the current year.  He next pulled out two wands, one old and one new in appearance.  It was interesting to her that he should still be carrying around the old wand.   While it had gotten him through his first five years of school it had not exactly served him as well as a proper wand meant only for him might.

He looked up at her and for a moment she wondered if perhaps having him simply write lines like everyone else would have been easier.  Then she wouldn’t have to pretend she couldn’t relate to what he was experiencing, that she hadn’t found herself in a world of trouble and had to suffer through detentions despite her seemingly perfect record.  However, he had clearly been at a disadvantage in her class from day one due to his wand, and if they could get his wandwork sorted out his practical work would match the theoretical study.  She couldn’t ignore the curiosity to see what might happen now.

She pulled her reading glasses off as she asked, “Have you been getting a better feel for the new wand?”  Of course she fully remembered the incident with the cocoa bean from class, an unfortunate side effect of being used to having to exert more force with spellwork.

Chances were good Sasha would have preferred lines as well if it weren't for the nagging voice in the back of his reminding him how far behind he was getting on his things-to-do-before-bed list as each minute of this detention ticked away.  He could be doing lines - or, he could be doing the list of rune and French translations he had sitting on his trunk.  Those were pretty close to lines, actually. 

He just had to get over the humiliation.  Somehow.  Not to mention that nagging sense of betrayal.  Who had lied and claimed he'd cheated?  Who had Professor Ramsey believed over him?  Why?  He knew he'd always struggled with the all the wandwork but he always tried his best to make up for it with extra long essays and extra effort into his practicing.  He'd always thought it was clear he tried hard but ... had Professor Ramsey always disliked him and distrusted him so much and he'd just never noticed? 

His gaze left the Professor and settled on the two wands in his hands when she voiced her question.  He started to place the new wand on the desk but thought better of it and set down the old one. 

"Sometimes," he admitted.  "But, I still ... I was so used to," he hesitated.  Then, for a lack of a better term, explained, "...punching the spells.  The wandmaker said my wand is extremely ... flüssig und flutzustrom ... um ..."  He searched around in his head for a reasonable translation.  The second description was harder.  "Fluid.  Tidal in its translation of energy."  The wandmaker had been an old, eccentric woman - Sasha hadn't really understood what she was saying.  "It's still ... overreacting.  To everything."  It'd be a lie to say he was really that fond of his new wand, yet.    He'd been excited at first but, now, he was just tired of feeling like he was magically incompetent for a whole new set of reasons than before. 

"Maybe ... I'm just not that good at magic," he voiced with a passive shrug.  At what point did he just resign himself to the fact it had nothing to do with his first wand?  Or his second?

Morrigan watched him carefully as he started to set his new wand on the desk but then decided to place the old one down instead.  When he spoke of punching the spells she nodded slightly, having picked up on that during the display in class.  However the next phrase caused her to look at him in confusion until he offered a translation.  It made sense in a way as it had in class a few days earlier.  Magic with his old wand would have been forced; with a wand truly intended for its owner the magic should have simply flowed.  She knew too well though that this was not always the case.

"Maybe ... I'm just not that good at magic.”

An eyebrow rose slightly at the statement as she sat back in her seat and replied, “I find that difficult to believe.”  She meant it.  As bright as Sasha was in theoretical practice she couldn’t see him truly having no talent for the practical aspects.  She imagined for him adjusting to a new wand was a bit like starting over completely.

“There should be a certain amount of transition, in theory,” she told him.  “I…I’m sure you’ve heard the speech about the wand choosing it’s owner and all that.  However having a wand that’s meant for you doesn’t guarantee that instantly the magic will happen perfectly.  I know punching at the spells is sort of habit, and it will take time to correct that, but I would start focusing on just allowing the magic to happen and not trying quite so hard.”

She knew it was easier said then done sometimes.  Yet in Morrigan’s experience once she allowed the magic to simply happen and her wand work to flow as if it was an extension of her that was when she truly saw marked improvement in her abilities.

As approval dependent hungry as he was, Sasha usually lived for the type of approval Professor Ramsey's reassurance represented.  Normally, he would have reveled in the vote of confidence and taken it at face value.  But, there was little about this situation that was 'normal' - not by his standards, at least.  Perhaps he was being unfairly bitter but he couldn't help it.  In light of her distrust in him, it was harder to take the comment as more than a simple opinion.

"I hope so," he offered simply. 

Sasha shrugged, but nodded his head.  "Well, I'd never heard about it before."  Obviously; otherwise he would have put more effort into finding the proper wand.  Had he had any clue his academic troubles had been because of his wand, Sasha wouldn't have hesitated to rectify it.   "When Dreo- Mr. Eleor took me to the Ministry to visit, they checked in my wand.  When he found out I hadn't known what the core was, he explained it all.  I'd never been to the wandshop so no one had told me before."  The basics of selecting your wand was one of those conversations most students had with their wandmaker or family before arriving at school; it was, therefore, not a lecture they covered at school.  Most students had heard it already.

"Not try so hard?"  Sasha asked, the concept in itself sounding questionable.  Trying harder was, usually, Sasha's answer to everything.  "So ... just be more ... casual?  Or ... lazy?  Or - what should I do?" 

The last thing that Morrigan had ever been really known for was a good pep talk.  She was the tough love sort of professor, the one who could push a student so much that out of sheer frustration they’d get something right just to prove her wrong.  This was also supposed to be a detention, a time for punishment.  Yet she couldn’t just ignore the fact that clearly they had all assumed that his wand work would never match the level of his theoretical knowledge.

“Well…at the risk of sounding like someone from one of those ridiculous films my sister used to make me watch on vacations…It’s more about letting the magic sort of flow from you instead of forcing it out.  Your energy goes into the spell, and so naturally what you put into it will ultimately affect the outcome,” she told him.

She felt out of her element, but ignored that nagging voice.  Kendall or Isaac would have been the better candidates for this sort of thing, but she could try.  Despite the setting of a detention she couldn’t ignore feeling slightly guilty for not having realized that perhaps there might be some fixable reason that Sasha had so many issues with wandwork before.

“I…Is there something you’re really good at that you find when you’re doing it you don’t really have to think about it?” she asked, trying to find something for him to relate it all to.

Sasha nodded his head, thinking the explanation made sense.  In a literal, academic, reading the wand-owner's-manual kind of way.  Just let the magic flow.  It sounded so simple in theory.  He could just picture turning on a faucet and letting the water flow into the sink.  He could picture it - he could picture water flowing in all different - streams and lakes and rivers and tides.  And, given what the wandmaker had explained, it should be easy.  But, his old wand had been anything but fluid. 

"Frau Schröder, the wandmaker, said the wand is very strongly associated with the element of water.  So, its fluidity is even more pronounced."  Judith Schröder had had a strange fascination with the elements and their influences on wands. 

Sasha continued to watch the wand in his hand, rotating it slowly in his hand.  "I ... well, I'm good at studying."  He knew, even as he said it, that wasn't what she was looking for.  He had to think quite a bit to really be successful.  It was easy but it wasn't effortless.  He'd been trying to work the wand in just the same way he approached his studying - which appeared to be part of his the problem. 

"And, riding, I suppose," he added.  That was probably closer to what she was looking for.  "I'm pretty adept at that.  And, I enjoy it.  I compete regularly.  But, it took a long time and a lot of effort to get there." 

Morrigan watched him a bit silently letting him come to a better conclusion then studying as to what he might be good at.  Being good at studying was fine, but it wasn’t a physical activity.  She thought perhaps Quidditch and flying might be good choices and had almost suggested them when he spoke again.  His answer was surprising, causing her to ponder it for a moment.

Back home in the States as a kid she had been subjected to riding lessons.  In Fair Hill everyone was subjected to riding lessons, it was simply a fact of life given the fact that the whole culture of the tiny town centered on competitions at the fairgrounds that bordered her family’s property.  Of course riding had come more naturally to her sister, but Morrigan hadn’t been terrible at it in her youth.

“Riding…actually that works,” she said, sitting up in her chair again, folding her hands on the desk in front of her.  “In the town I’m from in Maryland horses were…sort of an in thing I guess.  It’s not something you can just do without practice.  But, have you ever noticed that there’s a freedom in it when you no longer have to think about what you’re doing when you’re on the back of a horse?  Magic…it can be like that in a way.  It’s just a matter of finding that freedom.”

She tried extremely hard not to feel like she sounded like a complete nut job.  Who knew if what she was saying even really made sense?  She was just trying not to sound like one of those sappy ‘made for television movies’ her mother had always loved where the teacher makes some really great speech in front of a student.

The sound of chirping drew her attention for a minute and she looked towards the birdcage across the way as she added, “Let’s maybe have another go at turning a bird into a cat, shall we?”

"You rode?"  Sasha asked.  That bitterness and distrust that had been hanging over him since she'd first accused him ebbing away slightly at the common topic.  "In Maryland?  That must be ... I'm hoping to place high enough to show over there this summer.  Never been."  But, she'd plowed on to the point she was trying to make - a clear reminder this wasn't a social engagement. 

He was trying to see her point - really he was.  And, he supposed he could understand what she was trying to say.  But ... not entirely.  Yes, riding came easily to him but he still wasn't sure he exactly went about it without effort.  No matter how well one did, they could always do better.  He certainly thought when he was riding - thinking about where his weaknesses were and whether he needed to work harder to loose the horse up before attempting the jump or the piaff.  He was thinking about what modifications he could make to the dressage routine to earn those important extra points.  If you settled for anything less than the best, you're admitting to inferiority.  How many times had he heard that lesson?

"Umm...sure," he said, in a not very convincing voice.  He thought he could pretend he knew at least - there were times, when he was just able to ride and not worry about competition that he was sure applied to this example. 

Sasha glanced over his shoulder at the cage before getting to his feet to bring it back to his desk.  He picked up the marbled wand and gazed, apologetically, at the bird.  He, of course, had the incantation memorized - that had been no problem.  It was easier to remember not to try to punch the spell.  Sending a cocoa bean careening across the room to leave a mark on a desk was one thing - the thought of the poor bird doing that was another thing entirely. 

Hesitantly, he lifted the wand and waved it slightly at the bird.  "Avis felinus", he said, quietly, in almost a whisper. 

Hehe - for the fun of it, I'll leave it up to you as to whether it works or not or what the result was if it didn't

There was very little the students really knew about Morrigan outside the classroom, including the details of her upbringing and childhood…except of course for the constant stream of rumors regarding her and Kendall.  Usually she preferred it that way.  Having too much of a personal connection to a select group of students caused a professor to start identifying ‘favorites’ among the ground and she had never allowed herself to admit to having a preference in who she was teaching.

She wondered as Sasha answered with a less then convincing ‘sure’ if he ever did anything simply for the fun of it.  She knew what it was to ride in shows, which was precisely why she had quit doing it once she started attending Red Rocks.  When she rode at home she wanted it to be purely for the enjoyment.  If she set off in a gallop across a field the last thing she wanted was to be worrying constantly about technique.

She watched him go retrieve the bird cage keeping a close eye on him as he prepared for the spell.  Unlike the birds from class this one wasn’t charmed to turn instantly back to its original avian form, meaning the outcome of the spell would stick until she set it right.  It would also allow her to full analyze his use of the spell.  She waited a patiently as the spell was cast, standing up to get a better look at the outcome.

“Better,” she said seeing noticeable changes in the bird.  Around its paws and tail the fur was still a bit feather and the sound it made definitely was more of a chirp then the familiar meow of a cat.  But, it was an improvement.

“What were you thinking about when you cast the spell?”

The creature in the cage didn't look that dissimilar from one of those strange B-Movie monsters.   It seemed to have that unnatural and peculiar appearance that was at the same time grotesque and endearing.  But, the bird - cat - thing seemed content and relaxed as if its current mutant state didn't seem to phase it in the slightest.  Sasha leaned over and peered through the bars of the cage as he surveyed his work.  It wasn't perfect (and, of course, less than perfect was never, really, good enough) but it was an improvement.  Something (ok, maybe not everything but,) had happened on the first try - and a fair bit at that.  It was a rather feline-ish creature, despite the plumage.

"Do you think it can feel it?"  Sasha nodded his chin towards the creature - or rather the hair growing out of the creature's feet though it was probably difficult to distinguish such details.  "Do you think it's uncomfortable?  Do you ... think it wants to eat itself?"  Being a cat-bird had to give one a complex.  What would one feed such a creature?  Tuna with a side of sunflower seeds?

He had to give her question some thought - he hadn't realized he'd have to remember what he was thinking or he would have put ... more thought into it?  One shoulder lifted in a half shrug as he looked up from the caged creature.  "I ... I don't know.  I was thinking about the incantation and how I needed to move my wand.  I was trying to visualize it so I didn't get it wrong and ... do something horrid to it.  I ..."  His cheeks flushed slightly and he considered keeping the admission to himself.  But, after a moment, he realized he needed to be honest if he was hoping for this session to help.

"I was ... I was thinking about how far behind I'm getting while I'm here.  The two essays and the Runes translation I have for Friday.  And the three books I have to read before the term's over.  But, then I was trying to remind myself I shouldn't be worrying about that since it'd distract me.  Then, I tried to think about ... well, not thinking."  Which, of course, was easier said then done.

“I truly don’t think it’s that aware of what’s going on,” Morrigan told him.  “I mean, obviously it knows something is different.  It can’t fly in this state or flap its wings…but it’s not in any pain.  I guess I can speak somewhat from first hand experience…I’m an Animagus and it doesn’t hurt at all.”

In the two decades of teaching she had heard questions like that before.  The moment students began working with living creatures there were always a few who worried they might be putting the birds, rats, frogs, whatever in danger in some way.  She had worried too the first time she had attempted to use spell work on a hamster that she might cause it some lasting sort of trauma or worse kill the poor little creature.  Taking out her wand, she made quick work of reversing the spell and turning the creature back into a bird.

As he went on and on about what he was trying to not think about Morrigan nodded slightly.  Oh how the mind loved to work against someone.  Spell work was like second nature to her now, but during her days as a student she had been forced to fight to put aside the laundry list of items that needed to be done by the end of the day or week or term.  While the drive to succeed could take one far in life, it could also cause a lot of unnecessary stress.

“Try it again,” she instructed.  “You know the incantation and you’ve got the right wand movement.  Before you cast the spell close your eyes for a moment and try to just be present right here and now.  It takes a little practice to do that, but it’s one of those activities that you have to be fully present in to do well.  Riding in a show can be like that, while you’re thinking about your next move you have to be fully present in the action of riding and not worrying about essays or reading.  When you’re mind is clear picture the cat and then cast the spell.”

"Is that really as hard as they say?"  Sasha asked, glancing up from the cage to the professor.  He'd never given becoming an animagus a lot of thought - given the way his wandwork was progressing, he always assumed it wasn't for him.  But, what kid didn't dream about it?  Wondering what creature they'd turn into.  And, wondering what they'd do if their animagus form turned out to be something stupid like a slug or a cockroach.  All that work, all that effort only to find out your form was so embarrassing you'd probably never actually use it.  "And, animagus forms are always mundane, aren't they?

Of course, that was a distraction from the task at hand.  Sasha leaned over, resting his chin on his crossed arms on the desktop so he could peer at the bird at eye level.  The bird fluttered and ruffled its feathers and started to preen its feathers.  It certainly didn't seem very stressed - in fact it barely seemed to have noticed its previous flirt with a feline state. 

With a sigh, he pushed himself upright and balanced his wand between his fingers.  He abided by her recommendation and closed his eyes, trying to force his mind to clear.  Of course, almost immediately, his mind started to play games with him.  His overdue reading, homework from his week away, the prefect duties he needed to do, going home for the holidays - thoughts of all caliber started flooding his head.  He shook his head to try to clear them and then tried to put his mind in the place Professor Ramsey had described.  Being at the approach to a jump when his mind cleared of everything but the approach in that one last stride before the take off. 

He kept his eyes closed - unless Professor Ramsey had moved the bird, it wasn't necessary to look at the target. And, looking at Professor Ramsey while he tried to cast the spell would just make it all that much harder.  With his eyes closed, it was easier to focus on that state of mind rather than trying to repair his reputation.  "Avis felinus" he said, clearly, moving his wand in the described manner.  He kept his eyes closed for several more moments before finally opening it and peering at the results in the cage.

“It was a challenge to learn to do it,” Morrigan told him in reference to making the Animagus transformation.  “It took a long time and there were a lot of failed attempts along the way.  It’s not something anyone should do without the supervision of someone who knows what to do if things go wrong.  I suppose one might be able to take on the form of a magical creature, but everyone I’ve known who can do it is on the mundane side.”

She hadn’t been entirely surprised to find hers was the raven.  It suited her personality and went well with her namesake.  She pushed aside the thoughts of Red Rocks and the professor who had helped her learn the skill as old baggage wasn’t going to serve her in helping Sasha become more skilled with the practical applications of transfiguration.

She watched him as he prepared for another attempt, trying to keep completely silent.  Despite the fact that this was a detention and she was still miffed about her desk, she wanted him to succeed in this task.  As much as she pretended to not really care, every time a student managed to complete a task it was a personal victory for her.  She took her job very seriously, which meant if he walked out her that room tonight without managing to turn the bird into a cat it would be a personal failure for her as well.

His eyes might have been closed as he said the spell, but hers weren’t and a grin spread across her features once the spell was completed.  A small meow escaped the lips of the small black cat that sat in place of the bird.  The grin became a satisfied smirk as she said, “Congratulations Mr. Schlagenweit that is precisely how the spell is supposed to work.  What was different this time?”

Listening to the answer, Sasha nodded his head.  As intriguing and alluring as becoming an animagus felt at first, Sasha wasn't sure it was for him.  Somewhere inside, he knew he'd see it as a strange escape - an opportunity to get away from the complication of being himself.  Did anyone ever stay transfigured so long they forgot to turn back?  The fear of that question just sounding foolish stayed his tongue, though, and he turned his attention to the task at hand.

His detention. 

Sasha kept his eyes closed even after casting the spell.  It wasn't until he heard the pleased congratulations that his eyelids parted and he peered down at the petite cat who was peacefully grooming a paw.  Sasha started to reach for the cage, intent on letting the cat out, but paused, his gaze darting quickly towards the Professor.  "I ... can I ... does it need to stay in there?"  He waited for a response before proceeding to freeing the feline.

"So ... I - this might seem stupid but ... what is it?"  He asked, his focus on the cat again.  "I mean, transfiguration - what does it ... it's just appearances, right?  I mean, an animagus may shift forms but ... they're still that person, right?  They're just aesthetically another form.  So - is this still a bird that just appears to be a cat?  Or ... is it really, fully a cat?  I mean - it's DNA.  Is it cat DNA?  Or bird DNA?  Or something in between?" 

At first, Sasha just shook his head.  He didn't want to answer her question and he wondered if he could get away without doing so.  Either, he had to lie or he'd have to admit that closing his eyes had made it easier to avoid the nervous banter in his head that his mixture of emotions seemed to prompt.  It was easier to avoid getting angry for having to be here in this office for detention and then all the frustration, embarrassment and guilt he felt for that.  "It ... was easier to bloke out everything else when, you know, I couldn't see.  I'm sorry."