Neely's outfit

Detention had been a drag, to say the least. Neely’s only consolation was that she was sharing humiliation with the masses. Which, upon second thought, was no consolation at all. Neely Woolfolk was not a criminal! She was not any of those terrible things that awful Bombay and his ugly, nosy nose thought of her. She knew what was swimming in his head; he thought she was dense, he thought she wanted to ruin his precious plants, and thought she ought to be punished for simply having a social life. Well, at least Little Miss Woolfolk had the more important professor on her side-- one Aileen Reed.

Having been forced to keep her little (big) mouth shut for the duration of the detention, Neely had spent every free moment sneaking glances at her peers, studying them. Most particularly Sasha.

What the bloody boggart was Sasha doing in detention? It were as if he’d become an entirely different person in the span of their Not Talking phase. Of course, the eloquent and very apologetic letter had squashed those wild thoughts.

And now Neely was dying to catch up with him. An itch of guilt had finally reached her. Knowing his intentions were nothing but innocent, and having been offered his shelter during the camping trip, Neely now felt for snooping around his things in the jungle. She hadn’t meant to discover the letter... she’d only done what anyone would do: devoured the thing which was addressed to she.

But she still felt sort of strange.

So, gathering his books and tossing her hair over one shoulder, she skipped out of detention. She moved swiftly, but still managed to keep a nonchalant distance from the tall Ravenclaw as she trailed after him. Was it her imagination, or was Sasha trying to escape someone? It did not occur to Neely that he might embarrassed about the punishment-- nor all of those rumors floating around since Halloween. Rita Skeeter had quite the quill. Even Neely had soured to her in the past few days, having noticed the context in which she’d reported, including bits on Jacoba, with whom Neely had been sitting when Rita first approached.

Finally, rounding a stone corner, Neely found herself quite alone in a stretch of corridor. Sasha was the only organic thing in sight.

Rushing up toward him, her small feet furious with determination, she finally slinked into place beside him. Her hurried steps became more casual as she fell into step with him, as if it were entirely a coincidence. “Sasha?” She spoke tentatively, in that small voice she occasionally used with Astrid when she wanted something.

The Ravenclaw was, indeed, trying to escape.  Trying to escape the embarrassment, trying to escape his own thoughts; if he hadn't been terrified of the consequences, he would have likely tried to escape the school for at least a few hours. 

After six days away in London, Sasha thought he'd managed to prepare himself for returning to school.  His last meeting with Fauna had been well behind him and the school had had near a week to get over whatever rumoring they needed to do on account of that wretched Skeeter article.  The initial wave of fear from the article's publication had also managed to settle and Sasha had returned to school optimistic even if slightly humbled. 

But, the optimism had been short lived.  The very evening he'd returned, he'd been called to Professor Reid's office to issue an apology for his skipping class on Halloween and for the subsequent week away.  She'd, at least, understood and he'd gotten by with just an easily-kept promise.  The end of the week had just gone downhill from there with this very afternoon being amongst the worst he could remember.  He still couldn't believe someone had set him up for cheating.  Cheating!  And, he'd be serving more detentions for it.  It was unbelievable!  And, he'd left that dolling of false accusations and punishment to make his way to his very first detention.  Where, again, Madame Snark had singled him out as a troublemaker and a hooligan in front of the questionable crew gathered there. 

It was really the type of day that left one wondering why they'd bothered coming back at all. 

He'd been wanting to find a quiet corner to let his misery and embarrassment get the better of him in private since leaving Professor Ramsey's office those several hours earlier.  The group detention had forced him to swallow that need and let it simmer but, now that those horrible obligations were done for the day, he'd been escaping to some such solitary refuge as quickly as he could.  He was almost disappointed it was Neely who'd caught up with him.  If only for the sole reason it was so much harder to justify just walking away from her than it was doing so from most any other classmate. 

Nodding his head, Sasha obliged in slowing his pace, glancing briefly at Neely, trying to decipher if and what he might have done wrong this time.  She didn't seem to be angry but he wasn't sure he could take many more accusations that day without simply dissolving.  "Yes?" he asked quietly, his voice thin. 

Neely hesitated, opening her mouth and closing it again, noting something... different... in Sasha’s voice. And then she plunged right into it, deciding honesty was the best policy. Besides, after the camping experience, she would have to leave the bashfulness to the boy beside her.

Grabbing Sasha’s arm to stop him, she circled round front of him and looked up, smiling in the most appealing way she knew how-- a hopefully, buttery smile that preceded confessions and begged for mercy all at once. “Sasha,” she repeated. “I need to talk to you...”

Alright, it was a bit less shocking of an opener than she’d been planning just moments ago. So much for the plunging and explosions and fireworks. Neely would have to make due with momentary awkwardness and empty corridors.

“I sort of... saw something I wasn’t supposed to see before I was supposed to see it,” she babbled, making little sense as the words poured out. “And I... I wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything. You’re a really nice person and I was just upset that you didn’t seem to get my hints, you know?” She asked, again trying to catch sympathy, or at least understanding, with her gaze. “Your letter, it was...” The second time I’d read it. “It was really lovely. Thank you,” she said softly.

Finally, she looked down, having made part of her confession and waiting for him to inquire about the rest. She couldn’t quite bring herself to admit she’d been creeping around his tent, not after he’d let her stay in it. Plus, even Sasha, who juggled more things than Neely could dream about, needed a break.

“Do you think we could be-- friends,” she said, choosing her words carefully, biting her tongue to keep it conservative. “Again?” Of course, after his letter, and the recent, curiosity-inspiring bouts of rebellion, Neely had endeared herself to the daydreams once more, and would not have minded being a little more than friends. One step at a time, however. Sasha probably needed to hear her apology before she complicated the relationship with foreign terms. Again.

Small, fine fingers closed around Sasha's arm and, obediently, he stopped.  He was well aware of the heat of embarrassment and humility from the cheating accusation and the detention radiating off his face.  In that brief moment between her hand grasping his arm and and her stepping in his path, Sasha tried to shove that frustration back wherever it needed to go.  He closed his eyes and took a quick deep breath, trying to to force all traces of emotion from the last few hours from his face before she was facing him. 

When he opened his eyes, they quickly searched Neely's face, again, for any hint of animosity.  To his relief, there didn't seem to be any anger in Neely's face when she stepped in front of him.  At least not that he could tell.  "Alright.  Yes, of course." 

"You saw ..."  Sasha scowled, slightly, scratching the back of his head and deciding whatever it was wasn't that important as she launched into ... an apology?  She was officially accepting his apology and was apologizing herself?  Finally, somehow, was that long rotten day actually proving to have a silver lining?  A soft, small smile slid slowly across his still tense features.  What she saw and when really didn't matter anymore; Neely was forgiving him, finally.  There was no question in his mind as to whether or not he'd accept her apology.  "Yes!  No - it's I ... I'm not angry."  Relieved and grateful, yes.  Angry, far from it.

Except...

"Oh..."  Sasha's shoulders slowly fell and his chest deflated with disappointment.  So, she was forgiving him but not completely.  Apology accepted but offer for a second chance declined.  But, he should be grateful, right?  She forgave him.  "I - yeah.  Of course.  Friends.  If that's what you ... of course."  He nodded and glanced down at his hands, scratching the back of a knuckle.  Chances were, that was where he was supposed to leave it.  She'd made it clear - she wanted to be friends.  He should be grateful for that.  She was asking to be friends.  Nothing more and he should be happy that it was nothing less.

Even if he was fairly certain he wasn't entirely happy.  Even if this strange, oddly unfamiliar voice in the back of his head was telling him to say something now.  Which - wasn't that what George had said?  That Sasha needed to speak up and say something even when it seemed inappropriate?  (Or, as usual in George's case - especially when it felt inappropriate.) To be forward and tell her he liked her?  It felt so wrong, so unlike him but strangely exciting at the same time. 

"I - I mean, yes.  Of course.  But, I ... you know ... was hoping.  I - Do..."  He hesitated a moment, the words being formed over and over and over again in his head.  They seemed so easy in there.  Lowering the drawbridge and letting them out, however, seemed a much more difficult step.  But, by now, Sasha was well aware he'd be disappointed with himself if he didn't.  So, he closed his eyes and just forced himself to say it.  "But, I'd rather have a second chance at being your boyfriend." 

Neely flinched, wondering if he’d already guessed-- perhaps he knew, and had spared her. Or spared himself her silly excuses. She was, after all, the girl who had invited him to her not-so-dead cat’s funeral once upon a time.

And how long ago it seemed! Though Neely was still young and none the wiser. She wondered if other people had felt the drag of the past several months; as quickly as they’d moved, disappeared, dissolved with the seasons, they’d also carried a huge burden. Growing up.

The tightness of her shoulders melted, and she shrugged them up, rounded them out, let them take their usual proud, if small stance. A grin spread between her youthful cheeks, obviously illuminating her relief-- and happiness-- at his silly, Sasha-esque fumbling. He wasn’t angry at her. And they were even managing words... stilted, single-syllable, ellipses-laden words, but words nonetheless. After a night in the jungle and a sunrise in the most compromising of positions, Neely was sure it was a good omen. How many of the witches who wrote into Teen Witch Weekly could top this story?

Biting her lip, wondering what sort of tale to unravel so that she might sweeten him up, try to talk him back into something that had never happened, Neely bid her time smiling. The wheels in brain went to work, but they were no match for the derby horses powering Sasha’s. Social awkwardness and all, he beat her to the punch.

And she nearly staggered.

Her eyebrows rose animatedly toward the headband atop her blonde locks. She looked rather like Fauna Blake, gazing upon the Ravenclaw with widened, utterly confused orbs. “Really?” She asked in a low, breathy voice. Was she hearing right? She hadn’t gone completely mad? Hopefully not! The permanent residence ward at St. Mungo’s was dreadfully under-decorated.

“I’d love that!” She said, her voice growing louder and more squealing, its octaves rocketing like an exponential graph. She flung herself-- or tried, though she was a bit too close to him for a proper launch-- toward Sasha’s neck, her seemingly favorite place to induce awkwardness around the tall, trim Prefect. “I was going to ask you if you-- I wanted us to be properly dating,” she explained, her voice jumbled and laced with nervous-but-relieved giggles. “Oh my golly, thanks Sasha,” she said, finally letting go of his neck so that he might breathe if he so desired.

She grabbed his hand without second though, swinging it as she faced him. “It’s been so boring not talking to you.” A blush grew in her cheeks despite the surge of confidence. “And Muggle Studies isn’t as interesting without you as my study buddy.”

The young Ravenclaw was prepared for just about any reaction from Neely.  Staring blankly at him in surprise.  Begin offended enough to slap him - as she'd almost done those many weeks ago.  Finding the mere suggestion so ridiculous that she broke into a loud, amused laugh.  Quietly and politely turning him down.  Or, simply, agreeing.  In that nervous moment between question and answer, all possibilities seemed equally as likely.  That was, until the tension seemed to smoothly melt from the Slytherin's frame. 

For the first time in those few, long arduous days, things actually seemed to getting better - not worse.  And, to be honest, if he could pick and choose the time and event during which his luck could move in his favor, this was the one.  He would sit three more detentions if it would mean he could put his foolish misunderstanding and the Not Talking behind them. 

“Really?”

His cheeks felt like they'd grown at least a few degrees warmer in response to the surprised question.  Hopefully, in the evening darkened hallways, the full extent of the blush was at least somewhat shrouded.  If not - well, Neely was bound to be used to it by now.  It kind of came with the package.  Like those little dehumidifying packets of plastic balls in new pairs of shoes.  Slightly annoying and ever present.
Unlike in the tent, Sasha was much more prepared for the attack-hug this time around.  And, largely owing to the proper attire, the prospects of hugging her back were far less daunting.  His arms encircled her in a return hug, his mouth curving up in a goofy grin.  Even once Neely was back down on her own two feet, the goofy grin remained.  "I ... I'm glad," he admitted, quietly.  "I want -"  He took a deep breath.  "I want to do it better ... right this time.  I ... I really am sorry I was dense."  There.  He'd managed.  He'd gotten the full apology out in person with her actually listening. 

In that moment, at least in his mind, the awkwardness of the last few weeks seemed to vanish completely.  "I ... well, I'm not sure I'd say it has been boring."  This year had been anything but boring and definitely not in a good way.  "But, I've really missed talking to you, too."  A strange concept.  Seeing as how even less than a year ago Sasha had been fairly certain Neely wasn't even aware he existed.  "And, talking to Figaro - it's just not the same."  Okay.  Probably not the smoothest comment to make. 

"Well, in my free time since I'm not tutoring, I've been doing more independent work with Muggle Studies.  So, I can definitely help make up for any lost time."  Indeed, for all he'd stressed at the start of the year about not knowing what he was doing, Muggle Studies was slowly becoming his area of focus.  Unfortunately, it wasn't necessarily helping him narrow down his class list since the actual focus of his interest involved all the classes.  "I - but ..." he hesitated a moment.  Yes, it was highly atypical for the young Ravenclaw but, after this past week, it was the simple truth.  "I'd rather not worry about school right now.  I just - it's been ... kind of a bad week."  Bad term was more like it. 

"Do you want to ..."  He hesitated a moment.  He'd just walked out of detention; suggesting an after hours trip to the kitchens wasn't the best idea.  But, it somehow seemed fitting.  "Go get some iced cocoa?"

Neely stared up at the awkwardly endearing expression on the tall Ravenclaw’s face, rather enjoying the rare sight. Or rare it seemed these days, anyway, as they had not talked in ages... and she hadn’t managed to poke his Socially Awkward buttons in a very long time. It was strangely... relieving. As if this were how it was supposed to be, with Neely teaching Sasha how to be cuddly and canoodle, and Sasha teaching Neely how to be... not so Neely.

The Slytherin bit her lip in a sort of naive, girly smirk. “Really?” She looked around, both ways as if she were crossing a busy road. “Me, too... You’re my first real boyfriend, so I want to do everything right this time. We could practice with each other, alright?”

She glowed at his apology, nodding rapidly in understanding.

“Sasha, don’t worry so much. I believe you. I guess I sort of overreacted because Jordyn made it seem so easy. But she’s Jordyn, so of course having a boyfriend is easy for her. She knows everything,” Neely said, the steadfast loyalty obvious in her voice. There was not a note of sarcasm. “But I think I know better this time... and I, I’m sorry, too,” she emphasized again, rather uncharacteristically. “I sort of... I didn’t tell you everything. But I’m kind of guilty. I accidentally saw your letter,” she said softly, looking down at her shoes and back again. “I mean before you owled it to me. I saw it when we were camping. It’s part of why I ran to you first when I heard the monster.”

Neely scrunched her nose in a mixture of distaste and delight. She understood completely what he meant about Figaro. She detested the boy. But she was beyond thrilled to hear that Sasha preferred her company. Or that’s how she’d interpreted it, and she was going to run with it. “Oooh, you poor thing. I’m so sorry! He’s awful. He didn’t throw rocks at you or try to get you expelled, did he? Because he’s completely rotten! He would totally do that. Be careful, Sasha.”

Tilting her head, she absorbed his summary of the past several weeks. She nodded as if she understood. Really, she couldn’t wrap her head around why anyone would delve right into studying as a solution to loneliness, but then that was Sasha, and he was obviously doing something right. Besides, Neely found she actually liked to do well school when she was around him. And when she wasn’t around him but still wanted to get his attention. Her marks had improved this semester, and she hadn’t even been aware until the pre-exam grades starting floating back. She was going to survive O.W.L.s. Well, maybe. If midterms didn’t murder her first.

“I’ve been doing really well in some of my classes,” she announced. “I think you rubbed off on me... but--” Her eyes widened and sparkled at his suggestion. A squeal escaped her, and she nearly jumped like an excited teacup poodle. Studying? Who needed studying? What had she been thinking about a moment ago? Oh, who cared! “Golly, yes! I’m parched. The castle is always too drafty or too stuffy!” Right now, obviously, stuffy was winning out. “Some iced and chocolately would be perfect. And I can share the Belgian sprinkles Mummy just sent me,” she added in a loud whisper, her eyebrows tangoing suggestively.

Reaching out for Sasha’s hand, she clasped it with her own and tugged him toward the stairs. “You know, Jacoba’s really nice,” she said conversationally, looking over her shoulder before tottering on the top of the landing. “I dunno why your parents would chuck her into some strict school far away. I’d want her around if I were them... Do you think you could pass her off as a Squib, maybe? Or even a witch? Those ex-cons from Azkaban can be totally lush, the ones who tweeze regularly and don’t kill kittens.”

Sasha nodded though both his shoulders inched up in an awkward shrug.  "I - yeah well - of course," he confirmed.  He did want to get this right this time and do better than the last time.  Which, granted, didn't take much to improve on.  Apparently, dating a person that didn't exist wasn't really good practice. 

And, just so he was clear.  Sasha was dating Cornelia.  With that and an encouraging dismissal of any lingering worry uncertainty, the past slid into the past.

"You ... oh." Sasha blinked, watching Neely a moment.  She'd seen what letter when?  The apology?  But, it really hadn't been a real letter yet.  It had only been a very rough draft at the time.  "I didn't realize - It hadn't been edited."  Not that it had really changed all that much between the drafts.  A few changes of wording, a few quick tweaks of spaces to make them more even.  The stuff that made a piece of writing polished.  But, it couldn't have been that bad - Neely had still crossed to the tent in the darkness in her night clothes ...

Another blush bloomed vibrantly on the young man's cheeks and his gaze quickly dropped to the floor somewhere to the left of Neely's shoes.  "I - It's alright."  As much as he was glad she was good at Divination and could help him improve his grade, he was even more grateful she wasn't a mind reader.  "I'm glad you ... you know ... thought- knew you could come.  When there was a monster." 

He glanced down when her hand took his and was still watching them for a moment when she started leading the way towards, presumably, the kitchens.  "He's not that bad," Sasha said, rather noncommittally, shrugging his shoulders.  Okay.  Figaro was a bit ... rough around the edges and, well, strange.  And, he did keep company with some interesting blokes like Xavier Tawse.  But, Figaro had always been nice to Sasha and, at least until this year, people who were friendly weren't a common commodity.  "He's just ... different."  Very different.

"That's great!"  Sasha glanced at Neely, grinning broadly.  "I - so...hopefully that doesn't mean you don't need any tutoring.  Or, I suppose, we could always just study together."  Since that was what friends did.  He didn't have to tutor her for them to do homework together.  "And, if you've got notes from last week, I've got to catch up.  I was in London for a week."  This year was, definitely, off to a rough start.  "And, I've ..." he hesitated.  But, he knew people were bound to find out eventually and he'd have to overcome this fear of admitting it.  "I've got detention every Wednesday with Professor Ramsey.  Someone said I coerced them into stealing test papers."  Even saying it sounded unbelievable.  And highly humiliating.

His hand tightened around hers, gently, and he carefully helped her counter balance as she seemed to teeter at the top of the steps.  "Luckily, you aren't them," Sasha pointed out.  That was lucky on so many different levels, of course.  "She never got along with my father - well, step-father.  "Guess one too many mistakes.  But, I'm glad you liked her."  Neely and Jacoba wouldn't, necessarily, be two girls Sasha could see choosing to be friends under usual circumstances.  Jacoba was, really, much more like Fauna.  And, they didn't get along. 

"An ex-con?  You think she'd pass as one?" Sasha glanced sideways at Neely, trying to gauge how it was the comment was the joke Sasha was hoping it was.  Of course, how many ex-Azzies really tweezed?  "I doubt she'd try to.  To pretend to be a squib."  Not playing the ex-con was a given, in Sasha's mind.  Sasha glanced over his shoulder as they made their way towards the dungeon corridor, just to make sure the predominant strain of bad luck wasn't following them to the kitchens.  "I don't think she'd try to hide the fact she's a muggle."  Covering up what made her unpopular just wasn't the way his sister went about things.  "She actually got a job in Diagon at the record store, even.  Reducto?  And, she's living with an Auror." 

"Do you have any plans for the holidays?"  Those were, after all, little over a month away.  After midterms. 

The big moment came-- well the other big moment, since Sasha asking her to be his girlfriend probably topped all big moments for the semester-- and Neely sighed in relief before the words even left his mouth. He wasn’t mad. She could tell from the blush, even before he reassured her. Not that she could really picture Sasha mad. The angriest she’d seen him was perhaps on the night of the paintball fight, and even then he’d looked more disappointed, more sad and guilt-inspiring than flat-out angry. Or perhaps the evening he’d stood up to the Headmistress...

She smiled, nodding. “Me too. I’d have been someone’s dinner if you didn’t let me in!” She squeezed his hand happily, as if it were a fantastic bit of news, a conversation worth having. Neely Woolfolk, the main course.

Figaro, not that bad? Ha!

“Are you kidding?” She looked up at soberly for a moment. “Sasha, you’re too nice to people who don’t deserve it. Figaro’s a troll.”

Silly, adorable Ravenclaw. There was such a thing as too many chances. Ironically, Neely didn’t seem to feel she’d used up all of hers quite yet.

Resisting the urge to skip in favor looking a touch more sultry-- for a fifteen year old, anyway-- she delighted in being in Talking Mode with Sasha once more. His words floated into her head and swirled around. “I’d love to study together,” she ventured. “For real this time.” She found herself giggling, wondering if late night cocoa sessions with books would actually be just that. Naturally, they would be better than the last attempt. “And I still have loads of those flashcards. And! Oh! Your sister should totally visit us as a muggle in the flesh. I bet Professor Frasier would give us extra credit...”

She tilted her head, nearly frowning. The things one missed when ignoring a boy were criminal. “Of course you can have my notes. You might want Fergie’s, too, or Jordyn’s...” Neely’s were full of doodles, after all. And some of them she didn’t want Sasha to see. “How was London? Was it exciting? Golly, I haven’t been back in ages! Well, at least since summer...” She lived there, after all. Ages, for a girl of Neely’s temperament, was anything longer than a week. “I wonder if you were near my house!”

Not only was their newly rekindled romance actually official, but apparently Sasha had become something a rebel since their last go. Neely was impressed, and only a little bit weary. Mostly, she was excited to poke and prod the new, darker Sasha. And to tell everyone about him.

“Ramsay’s a bit harsh sometimes,” she admitted, producing another frown. “Maybe if you bring her cupcakes, she’ll cool off. What do you have to do for detention? And why the Bloody Baron would she accuse you of stealing?” More rebellious he may be, but Sasha was not and had never been a cheater. “She hasn’t lost her brain, has she?” She asked, a hand darting to her cheek dramatically. She splayed her fingers and studied his face for a reaction. “Do you want me to talk to her? Do you want me to ask Daddy?” Speaking of brains, Neely’s began to jump wildly ahead.

Unaware of the irony of the situation-- namely Ava being both Sasha’s sister and a recent snogging buddy-- she nodded in agreement, latching onto him as he helped her balance herself. Her free hand carefully took his arm and she looked up at him. “Maybe you could help them get along better, even if he sounds like a total wand in the mud. Maybe you could even fix Anna...” Slim chance.

The Slytherin shrugged. It was worth a shot. “Maybe just an out of town witch, then. I mean... some foreign ones don’t even use wands very often, do they?” She asked, racking her brain for ghosts of History of Magic lessons past. It was one of their less enthralling subjects, to be certain. Neely swished her lips to the side, humming a little worrisomely. “You do know how they treat muggles, don’t you?” She frowned, looking up at him. “I mean, not all of them... not even most of them, really... but if she’s living around Diagon, Sasha, she has to be careful. Some of those people on Knockturn really hate muggles.”

But the auror bit was promising. Neely calmed her face a little, finally smiling. “Well, if she’s with someone from Law Enforcement, they probably wouldn’t try anything. What’s his-- er, or her-- name?” Maybe her father new him (or her).

She moved down a few steps, pulling him with her, and nodded without looking back. “Mum and I are going shopping on the first day back, and then we’re planning a feast for all the relatives. I think there are a few parties in London, the usual, you know. But I’m really excited about the winter festival!” The Hogsmeade wonderland was not to be missed. Anyone who was everyone showed up. “You’ve got to come, Sasha!”

Finally, Neely reached the middle landing, having successfully made it halfway down one floor. It was a start. They were that much closer to the dungeons.

“There’ll be contests, and tree decorations, and another fashion show...” She trailed off, squeezing hand again. “And lots of mistletoe.” Grinning mischievously, the Woolfolk girl balanced on her tippy toes, reaching up to kiss the boy’s cheek. “Lots and lots of it,” she emphasized. She paused to study his face for a moment, his pretty blue eyes and towering features, and then closed her own eyes and gently met his lips, believing now was as good a time as any to give it another go. They were, after all, dating. Neely felt an excited shudder run through her. Finally, things seemed to be going right.

Whether or not the threat of being anything's dinner had been real seemed a trivial and unimportant detail.  Neely could believe there'd been a monster if she wanted - convincing her otherwise just wasn't that big of a priority.  "That would have been tragic," he offered, sounding as earnest as he could about such a plausibility. 

Sasha followed Neely's lead down the hallway towards the staircase, pursing his lips, slightly at the mention of Figaro.  Yeah, unrefined as he might be Figaro had always been nice though now didn't seem the time to offer an extended defense of the lad.  "Perhaps," was the extent of the Ravenclaw's rebuttal. 

Not only had the not speaking phase past, it seemed Neely was quickly making up for lost time.  "Ja, I've got so much to catch up on," he admitted with a slow shake of his head.  That was the problem with missing classes - once you were back in the swing of things, it wasn't like your current schedule slowed any to accommodate the extra work.  No - the only feasible solution was for already too short of nights to get shorter.  And, his muggle subjects to get shoved a little to the back burner.  "And with midterms coming up - and then OWLs -"  Not the best just-made-up conversation material. 

Jacoba as a guest in their class - it was a wonderful idea.  And, Jacoba would probably get a kick out of it.  "I'd love for her to see the school!" Sasha admitted, a touch of excitement to his words.  "Do you think they'd let her?  I'd love for her to see a quidditch game." 

Sasha scowled in thought, trying to remember where Neely's house was in relation to Dreogan's flat.  "I was staying in sort of central London but I did go to see Professor Greyfriar right before."  A regrettable endeavor.  Not only because, "Fauna Blake was there.  Then, I spent a few days at the Ministry doing some job shadowing." 

Cupcakes probably wouldn't appease Professor Ramsey.  She'd been so livid she hadn't even heard Sasha.  He suspected, if he had tried to give her cupcakes, she would have thrown them at him.  Or something.  "Extra lessons.  You know, my wandwork's never been that strong." The book work was easy - he could memorize a list of goblin war dates without a second thought.  But, since his first year, it had always taken him much longer than most to get a spell to work.  And, even then, it was hit and miss.  He now knew why.  "I - apparently, my wand didn't like me.  I never went to Ollivander's, you know - so no one ever told me about the whole wand choosing the wizard stuff.  I found my old wand in the lost and found my first year - we weren't a match, apparently.  I got a new wand when I was away, though.  So, we're reviewing all the spells."  In the end, it wasn't as bad as it could have been.  But, to someone with a clean record, the detention mars were devastating.

Sasha offered Neely a sad smile in appreciation.  It was touching she was so supportive of Jacoba but it was, unfortunately, a more complicated issue than that.  "I'm not even supposed to be talking to her," he admitted.  "I don't know.  Maybe once I'm out on my own it'll be different."  Until then, it was really a matter of finding the path of least resistance. 

"I don't know," Sasha slowly shook his head.  He'd mention those thoughts to Jacoba - maybe even Dreogan if she was being reluctant.  He doubted, though, she'd be interested in pretending and he wasn't sure how much Dreogan would try to convince her.  For better or worse, when Sasha had last spoken with his sister, "she seems pleased with being who she is here.  Like an immigrant?  She doesn't want to hide who she is just to be part of my life, you know?"  And, as much as he worried, Sasha couldn't help feeling highly grateful to her for that.  That was all just something that made things very different for muggleborns.  At some point, by necessity, their lives diverged from their families.  You had to pick one or the other.  Sasha had to do more separation than most of his fellow muggleborns; Jacoba seemed to be trying to make an effort to keep him from having to do so on her account.   

"The Auror?" Sasha asked, just to clarify, following Neely down the stairs.  "Eleor?  Adon Eleor?  He's Dreogan's brother, actually.  I haven't met him - he was away but Jacoba says he's nice." 

Her excitement about the holidays was contagious and he grinned as he followed her down the steps, pausing when she stopped.  "I'll - that'll be fun.  I can try.  But, you know, I'll be home."  Which, as Neely knew, meant Operation Muggle.  "I'm in England until the twenty-first - I've got a show in London.  Then I don't get back until the day before the Express.  I've got shows in Barcelona, Rome and Zurich and Christmas at my oma's.  But, I'll be around in between classes when I'm in London."  And, he could probably find reasons to slip away.  Most of the time, when he was at shows, it was just him and Wilhelm.  His parents didn't usually come until the last day for the jump offs and finals.  "I'd love to go shopping - have you ever been to the muggle department stores?  Or other shops?"  What stores did girls shop in?  To be honest, he'd never paid it much attention.

He listened to the list of holiday activities, nodding at each item on the list, including the mistletoe until, prompted by her mischievous grin, his mind backtracked to reprocess the line item and its meaning.  "Oh - you mean ..."  Color flooded his cheeks and he glanced bashfully down at his hands only looking up when her lips brushed against his cheek.  He watched her, his eyes widening as her lips met his, freezing for the slightest moment before remembering that this was alright.  They were boyfriend and girlfriend.  They were, therefore, allowed to do this. 

He relaxed, breaking the kiss only to brush a second, shorter kiss against her lips.  A touch of color still lingered in his cheeks but he was grinning when he looked back down at her.  This was all a vast improvement over the phantom slap during their last, true, non-tent-oriented interaction.   "I-" he started, growing quiet for a moment, trying to find a way to make the words sound less awkward.  There really wasn't a way, though.  "I - that was better."  Of course, the practice probably didn't hurt though Sasha had the sense of mind to avoid voicing that comment aloud.

Neely shuddered dramatically at the word O.W.L.s. Why couldn’t they leave it exclusively for haute couture quills and cute little fuzzy things which carried pink parchment? Why had they had to ruin it with the academic apocalypse? And poor Sasha! Having to spend so much time catching up!

“I don’t know, but my dad could write a few owls...” The other kind of owls. “And if they do, you’d totally get extra credit to make up for you being gone!” It was a perfect plan, really. And who was the professor to say no? Neely knew he was a total pushover. Just a little poking, prodding, pouting... a kind thanks, and maybe a few biscuits. Well, she’d nearly got him on a catwalk in his skivvies last Spring. “She could stand with me during the game!” Neely would lend some of George Carter’s face paint...

Neely paled a bit. “The old Headmaster?!” What on Earth? Why hadn’t she known about this? “And The Girl-- Fauna was there? But why?” And what could Fauna possibly know that Neely didn’t? The girl didn’t even know that lighting charms existed! She got dressed in the bloody dark!

“Oooh, but how was shadowing? I totally wanna do that for Witch Weekly... except, like, in the summer when we don’t have classes to worry about.” And homework, gossip, bad weather.

It was hard to imagine Sasha was particularly bad at any facet of magic. Sure, he was nervous, and he wouldn’t hunt down and hex someone Callum Knight-style... but wand work that required tons of practice? Nah...

But then...

“Wait!” Stop! Merlin Time! “You never had your own wand until now?!”

And he was a Prefect?!

“How in Salazar’s name did you make it to Fifth Year? Have you ever been in a duel? What did you do when you started Charms?”

If he’d managed that long with a wand he’d found... she could only imagine how well he would do with a wand which had found him.

It was sad, that he’d been barred from speaking to his own sister. In some ways, though, Neely could relate. Not that she and Jax got on as well as Sasha and Jacoba. Or, you know, at all. “Yeah... I keep thinking once I’ve graduated, I might go talk to Jax.” Once she her trust fund, and could legally do magic, Apparate, and change the locks on her own flat. “But, I mean, you get along with her and she’s here now... and they don’t know that, so...” What was the harm?


Sasha offered Neely a sad smile in appreciation.  It was touching she was so supportive of Jacoba but it was, unfortunately, a more complicated issue than that.  "I'm not even supposed to be

Neely didn’t quite understand, but she nodded and pretended. She was all for muggle rights, but facts were facts. And the facts were that people on Knockturn frequently cooked muggles for the lunch special, and washed it down with a side of frothy muggle. It was dangerous, aurors or no aurors, aristocracy covering their bums and seeking forgiveness for wartime passivity with charitable donations, or not.

“I dunno... but he sounds... familiar.” Or not.

“So your parents don’t know you went to see the Headmaster, then, right?” Well, obviously. They didn’t even know the man existed. But that was beyond the point. How had Sasha managed to hide it all? It made him oddly more... rebellious. And exciting. “Golly, do you even have a proper break? I mean, Christmas is for presents and sleeping.” Anyone who said the real meaning of the holidays was anything else? Was Lying.

“Department stores...” She echoed. “They have departments? Do they have a shoe department?” It was like Christmas! On Christmas!

She was glad to see the word mistletoe cause a fluster, and even more glad that Sasha didn’t meet her lips with (the same level of) surprise as he had in the kitchen all those ages ago. She smiled, and nodded in agreement. “You’re getting very good...” She didn’t pause to wonder why. She kissed him again, catching his bottom lip briefly before continuing on toward the kitchens, her hand laced in his. “Just don’t tell your fan club I said so...” Who would have thought she’d be fighting off armies of First Years?

Muggle Studies really wasn't the class Sasha was most concerned about catching up in but any little bit would help.  He certainly wouldn't turn down the opportunity to earn a few extra points.  "And, I could show her around the castle."  Extra credit aside, that was the real advantage to having her sister serve as guest speaker.  Of course, Jacoba being there for a quidditch game topped all the other reasons.  "That would be terrific!"

It was strange how time worked.  Not a year ago, had Sasha heard Neely make fun of Fauna, he would have been quick to come to the Hufflepuff's defense.  He remembered joining the art club his first year and, even back then, looking up to Fauna.  She'd been shy like him but friendly and smart and, at least Sasha had always thought, confident in who she was - a trait he'd always mildly envied.  He could remember times when he'd even tried to emulate her.  But, so much had changed - she had changed so much.  And, now, here he stood - dating Neely and resenting the fact Fauna had been there. 

"Well, she'd been there when Professor Greyfriar had been attacked, too."  Not to mention, she'd fought the werewolf.  "I guess, she'd gone for the same reason I had.  I didn't know she'd be there.  Unfortunately."  Had he, he probably wouldn't have gone.  "Being at the Ministry was pretty cool, though.  I don't know if that's what I'll do but it was excellent.  You should do an internship, though.  If you got an internship there, I bet it'd make it easier to get a job after Hogwarts." 

Immediately, as instructed, Sasha froze on the steps, looking at Neely.  Color rose slightly in his cheeks and he shrugged, shaking his head.  "I ... no," he confirmed, shaking his head.  "I couldn't just go to Diagon on my own before my first year."  That, it seemed, should be obvious.  It'd been easier to go school shopping alone when he'd gotten older but, by then, he'd already found his wand in the lost and found.  "I had to owl-order all my books my first year and...well...they're so expensive so when I found one, I figured it was good enough."

He shrugged at her triad of questions, not sure he really had answers for them.  Or, at least, the first.  He wasn't sure how he'd made it to fifth year, either.  "I ... of course not," was the easy answer to the second.  Of course he'd never been in a duel.  He got bullied a lot but never dueled.  "I don't know - I'd get it to work, eventually.  I just had to practice the charms more.  I mean, eventually I got a feel for it; it just wasn't very reliable.  But, I've got one now."  He just needed to reiterate that. 

"Why can't you talk to him now?"  He'd had to wait until Jacoba had left school to see her again though, of course, they'd been close as kids.  He didn't see Anna much, outside of holidays but he still couldn't imagine not being able to see her. 

"No."  He confirmed.  No, as far as his parents knew, Sasha had been getting ready for a French exam that week.  And, going to Zurich on a school trip for the weekend.  "I don't really sleep much, anyway," Sasha admitted with a shrug.  Whether in school or during the holidays.  There simply wasn't time for it; when one looked at the things on his to do list, there were just too many line items that were simply more significant than sleeping.  Like studying and quidditch practice and upholding the façades of very intricate lies.

"Yes.  There's even a sock department."  Probably not nearly as exciting as the shoe department but they were related.  And, they were often right next door to each other. 

If the mention of mistletoe caused a fluster, it was nothing compared to the blush that Neely's compliment about his kissing skills triggered.  He was spared from having to formulate some intelligible response by a second kiss.  He returned the kiss then watched her a moment, grinning broadly.  "I ... my what?" He glanced sideways at Neely as he followed her lead down the dungeon corridor.  His fan club?  Who, exactly, did she mean by that?  She didn't mean... Sasha blushed, shrugging awkwardly. "You mean, Ava?" he asked, hesitantly.