Half-buried under the heavy folds of nylon, leather straps and heavy metal fastenings, Sasha shoved the kitchen door open with a shoulder  and blindly picked his way down the few, short steps to the frozen path.  He didn't know how it was possible but each day seemed to be getting more awkward than the next.  No one spoke at lunch.  Gerhard was, finally, home for the holidays after a long weekend of overtime and no one had said a word at lunch.  One could have measured the thickness of the tension with a ruler. 

There had been a distinct upside to the tension, though.  Sasha was starting to look forward to the start of term - even if it meant starting at a new school.  It would allow him to get away from here.  Of course, he'd prefer to be returning to Hogwarts but he'd accepted, rather quickly, that that simply wasn't going to happen.  In all honesty, he'd been suspecting something like this since he got called to Madam Snark's office over a month ago.  It was probably cowardly, but Sasha had also accepted going to Franziskushaus Altötting would just be easier, after all.  There'd be no rumors of boys kissing all over the loo.  No rumors of month-long suspensions.  No articles about being Ava's long lost brother or the newest rebel rouser of school. 

It was a fresh start.  And, like Dreogan had said, Sasha could always come back and finish what he needed to.  It was the upside to this all.

He couldn't see his feet beneath the mound of freshly-laundered horse blankets in his arms but his feet knew the way well enough.  With a creak, the barn door slid open just enough for the boy and blankets to slip inside.  Before too much of the warm air could escape the barn, he slid it almost closed, leaving just enough space for the sable Shepherd Dog to come trotting in after him.  His feet found their way down the hall to the tack room and, with a slight shove, he managed to squeeze him and the blankets through the door.  Baldur followed in at his heels, hopping up into an old, faded recliner and curling into the cushion.  Sasha dropped the pile of blankets on the desk and began folding the top most one when the shepherd lifted his head, pricked his ears and growled lowly.

The dog hopped down from the chair, trotting back out into the main hall and barked, sharply, at the intruder before, blanket still in hand, Sasha followed.  Sasha stared at the Slytherin a moment and would have, likely, stared for a few seconds longer if Baldur hadn't let out another, loud, alert bark. 

"Nah, ruhig.  Alles ist in Ordnung.  Platz."  The shepherd lay down but his nose tipped up into the air, his nostrils twitching as he sniffed in Ferguson's direction.  Awkwardly, Sasha looked down at the blanket in his hands, shaking it out to find the two topmost corners.  He had no idea what to say.  Everything about the boy standing opposite him was confusing.  The mixed up letters, all of Kronos' comments - it was all just so ... yes.  Confusing. 

"You should close the door.  Just in case." 

 Peering cautiously around the corner of the stable building, Fergie had spent several minutes second guessing his decision to even be there. He wasn't supposed to be - he was well aware that anything remotely related to the wizarding world wouldn't be welcome in the Schlagenweit home. Sasha's parents didn't even know about Hogwarts, and the Ravenclaw apparently did a decent job of playing Mr. Muggle while at home. Fergie didn't want to mess that up for him, or get the other boy into any trouble.

 And then there was the fact that, even under ordinary, non-muggle related circumstances, Ferguson didn't really know what sort of reception to expect from Sasha himself. They were supposed to be friends. That's what the letters had said. But saying and being were two different things. The meeting at the festival hadn't really given him a chance to figure out how the other boy intended to behave towards him from now on, except, well, awkwardly (which wasn't anything new, really, but this was a whole new level of awkwardness). The Slytherin just wanted to know where it was he stood, exactly. And depending upon how low a position that placed him in, if he could improve said standing.

 So, yes, he was taking a risk. But it was one that, he hoped, would be worth it in the end. If he could just talk to Sasha, he was certain things could be sorted out, at least a little.

 Spotting someone approaching the stables from the direction of the house, Ferguson pressed himself closer to the wall, making himself as inconspicuous as possible. Perhaps for the first time, he found himself almost thankful for the years of practice he'd had dodging Duke and Callum. It had certainly made him better at lurking around unseen. From where he was standing, he couldn't see who exactly had entered the building, but behind the mountain of blankets they'd seemed roughly the right size and shape to be Sasha. He waited a few moments and kept an eye on the path leading to the house, just in case anyone else was headed that way, before slipping out of his hiding place and through the barn door.

 He hadn't considered the dog, but the dog had certainly taken him into account - at least, once the animal had become aware of Ferguson's existance. As the large and definitely intimidating canine came back out into the main hall of the building and barked at him, Fergie froze mid-step. So much for being stealthy. Raising a finger to his lips, he let out a very quiet, almost inaudible "shh" which, of course, did nothing. What now? Should he run or...? The Slytherin didn't have a lot of experience with dogs, and wasn't all that eager to have this be his first unpleasant one.

 Fortunately, before he really had time to consider doing anything stupid, Sasha appeared behind the dog and, after a moment, spoke to it in German. Whatever he'd said had apparently been enough to satisfy the dog's lust for intruder blood. Fergie exhaled slowly and straightened as the Ravenclaw shook out the blanket he was holding. Sasha hadn't sicked his  hairy, four footed guard on him at least. So far so good.

 You should close the door.  Just in case.

 Right. The Slytherin nodded, quickly obeying, and then turned back to face the Ravenclaw, trying not to dwell too much on what had happened the last time they'd been alone together. Ducking his head to hide the faint blush that spread across his cheeks, Fergie rocked back and forth on his heels a couple times, hands shoved into his coat pockets.

 "Hi," he said finally, chewing his lip and offering Sasha a nervous smile. "I um... I wanted to talk." A hesitant glance up at the other boy. "If... if that's okay? Just for a few minutes," he added quickly, taking a couple steps forward (keeping an eye on the dog, just in case).  "I won't take up much of your time, I promise."

The dark royal blue nylon whispered softly as layers of fabric slid across each other.  Ferguson Amherst was standing in his barn, watching him. Why did this encounter seem so much more surreal than finding Neely here?  Oh, yeah.  She wasn't a boy with a crush on him.  She was a girl.  A very important distinction.  And, Sasha had to remind himself, Neely had been here before and, against all odds, she'd met family.  Well, Anna at least.  Without looking up, the Ravenclaw continued to fold the blanket in on itself until it formed an even, square bundle with all the straps and buckles tucked carefully between the folds.  He knew, by the sound of metal scraping against metal rather than by sight, that the barn door had been securely closed. 

"Hi." The folded blanket had reached a level of perfection that eliminated any possibility for further distraction.  Not unless the former Ravenclaw shook it out and, blatantly, started over.  That was a bit too pathetic.  Even for him.  Finally, with a sigh, Sasha's eyes trailed from the blanket to the closed door and, finally, the dog.  Though obviously curious about the visitor, Baldur was relaxed - he didn't seem at all concerned with anything that might be happening outside the barn.  "Frei."  The shepherd pushed himself to his feet and, head lowered, walked over towards the Slytherin, sniffing at the hem of the boy's coat. 

Following the track of the dog, Sasha's gaze finally found its way to Fergie.  Traces of the boy's blush still lingered on his features and, immediately (and rather irrationally) Sasha's cheeks followed suit.  It was enough to force him to move.  The other boy really shouldn't be there and, as the dog continued to sniff the back of Fergie's knee, Sasha was half tempted to point that out.  But, he couldn't. Despite the confusion, despite the risks, on some level, Sasha was glad the other boy had come.  A sentiment which only confused him further.

"Alright.  I've got a few minutes.  I ... we should -"  He hoisted the folded blanket slightly in non-spoken explanation before turning and, with one last nervous glance at the door, stepped back into the tack room.  "Baldur, hier.  Ins Bett."  After a last good sniff, the dog turned and trotted away from Fergie, into the tack room before curling into a dog bed in the corner.

"I'm sorry - there's ... usually dog and horse hair everywhere," Sasha said, apologetically and nervously, quickly flipping open one of the tack trunks and dropping the folded blanket in the bottom.  It was an exaggeration, of course.  The boy was just as fastidious about the cleanliness of the tackroom as he was the rest of his world and he cleaned it thoroughly, daily.  Invariably, though, scattered dog, cat and horse hair were a constant presence.  And, they had a tendency to stick to everything.  His hands free, he tugged open a cupboard, pulling out a small hand vacuum and making a quick, hasty attempt to rid the worn recliner of any hair it might have accumulated that morning.  "I - you can ... there are clean towels in the drawer there, if you want.  I'm sorry.  I-"

He grew quiet, the color having returned to his face with full force as he sat down on the stool at the desk. 

outfit

 Another word in German and the dog got to its feet, stepping towards Fergie whose eyes widened as he took an involuntary step back. It wasn't that he thought Sasha had decided to send the dog after him after all, it was just... well, the shepherd was nothing like the small, yappy lapdogs he usually encountered. And, he had teeth - sharp teeth - which were very close to the nose that was sniffing around the hem of Fergie's coat.

 "Um..." The boy stood absolutely still, glancing nervously down at the dog as it continued to sniff him.  He wasn't sure if he welcomed this momentary distraction from the thick, awkward tension or not. "He won't...bite me or anything, right?" The dog didn't look too inclined to do so, but Fergie wasn't taking any chances. He jumped slightly as the cold, wet dog nose made contact with the back of his denim-clad knee and quickly stepped forward again. Frowning slightly, he reached up to smooth his hair down. How embarrassing was it to be afraid of a dog?

 But at least the Ravenclaw was looking at him now. And blushing. For some reason, seeing that blush sent a happy little flutter through Ferguson's stomach. He ducked his head again, this time to hide the small, affectionate grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. He'd only seen Sasha once in the past month. Despite how weird things were between them, it was good to see the other boy blush again. He'd almost forgotten how adorable it was.

 Of course, these weren't the sort of thoughts he was supposed to be having. Giving a slight shake of the head, he sternly reminded himself that he was supposed to be behaving from now on. Friends. He was here to see if they could still be friends. Time to concentrate on salvaging that, not worrying about a stupid, unrequited crush.

 Alright.  I've got a few minutes.  I ... we should -

 Fergie let out a sigh of relief and nodded, waiting for the dog to pass before he followed the tall blond. "It's fine," he shrugged, looking around the tack room as the other boy launched into an apology. "I mean, we're in a barn, right? Animal hair is to be expected." Even he knew that. "It...smells a lot better than I thought it would. I thought stables were supposed to smell...icky." Standing in the doorway, he watched the Ravenclaw do a quick tidy. His blue eyes widened at the use of the small vaccuum cleaner. That certainly would have been handy to have around, when magic was unavailable.

 I - you can ... there are clean towels in the drawer there, if you want.  I'm sorry.  I-

 "All right. Is that...?" Fergie broke off, shaking his head. While he was curious about the muggle cleaning device (not having taken the Muggle Studies elective, he'd never really been exposed to a lot of non-magical technology), there were more important things to discuss at the moment and he didn't know how much time he had. "Nevermind." He commandeered a towel from the drawer Sasha had indicated and spread it out on the recliner before taking a seat and a deep breath. Now for the hard part. Talking.

 He studied the Ravenclaw's face for a moment before clearing his throat, nervously tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair. "I brought you something." He told the other boy. Reaching into his inside coat pocket, Fergie pulled out a slim package wrapped in silver paper. "It's a... you don't have to look at it as a Christmas present, if you don't want to. It's more of a peace offering, really." The young man nervously licked his lips, holding the gift out to Sasha. Inside was a dark blue leather journal with the image of a raven embossed on the front.

 "It's not much, but I saw it in a shop window, and...it made me think of you. You know, you being a Ravenclaw and all." Obviously. "I thought you could use it for taking notes or something. If you don't want it, I'll take it back, but..." Another awkward, slightly panicked shrug. "I just wanted to show how sorry I was. Am. For everything." Inhaling slowly, he ran a slightly shaky hand through his hair and dropped his gaze to the other boy's black booted feet, color rushing into his cheeks. "Especially the... kiss."

 The word was whispered so quietly he wasn't even sure the other boy would hear it, but somehow he thought Sasha would know what he meant anyway. "I shouldn't have - you have a..." Fergie shook his head and forced himself to look up and try to catch the other boy's eye. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have sprung all that on you at once, I wasn't... thinking clearly at the time. I didn't mean to cause any trouble for you and I'm - I'm truly sorry that I ended up doing so."

Sasha blinked, his eyes darting between the dog and the Slytherin as the other boy recoiled.  Fergie was afraid of dogs?  Though, he supposed he had to remind himself, dogs were surprisingly under-prevalent in the wizarding world.  Of course, even muggles viewed cats as the stereotypical wizardly companion but it never occurred to him that was true.  A curious thought.  Which surely had little to do with why Ferguson was here.  "He's friendly.  He won't without provocation."  It probably wasn't the most reassuring answer but it was the truth.  "You don't like dogs?" 

Oh, the convenience of topic diversions. 

The day after Neely visited, Sasha had developed a theory that if he every learned to become an animagus he was destined to be an ostrich.  He really had no problem what so ever with the stick-your-head-in-the-sand approach to life's awkward situations.  Why relive life's awkwardness if one could just carry around a bucket of dirt?  And, yes, Sasha was well aware that ostriches really didn't bury their heads in sand but that was besides the point.  He really would much rather talk about the likelihood of Baldur gnawing on Fergie's fingers than that afternoon in the boy's loo.  Which, invariably, just brought to mind all the events that seemed to follow that.  He knew, of course, that the kiss had nothing to do with anything that followed but, somehow, looking back, getting cornered and battered by Callum had just been the event that kicked off some weird, horrible runaway train crash. 

And, the truth was, everything was just so much more confusing now than it had been a month ago.  In those days following the kiss, the reaction was easy to identify and straightforward.  But, since those talks with Kronos and the stress of coming home things that once seemed like a big deal seemed trivial and things that seemed trivial seemed so much more significant.  And now?  Well, now ... it all didn't really much matter anymore, did it?  And, admitting that out loud just made it impossible to ignore how much he was going to miss returning to Hogwarts. 

Oh to be an ostrich. 

"We're always cleaning it," he offered in explanation.  The more involved in riding Sasha got, the more particular he got about the care of his animals.  It was the one area of his life that his stepfather seemed satisfied to allow Sasha to take control and, to Sasha's surprise, Wilhelm had accepted the change of leadership relatively well.  He followed Sasha's schedule and protocols to the letter.  "A vacuum cleaner?"  Sasha asked, following Fergie's train of thought before he seemed to draw the conversation back to the less than topic they both seemed content to avoid.

The Slytherin pulled out a square wrapped package and held it out to Sasha.  Something about the package seemed to cut straight through Sasha's resolve to convince himself he was looking forward to the school change.  His gaze lowered to the package as, with a slow exhale, his shoulders drooped.  "But, I ..." he started, his voice small and slightly strained.  "I haven't really been able to, you know, get out and shop.  I ..."  He hesitated.  How very true that statement was.  Since his suspension in mid-November he'd only had one day - that day in Hogsmeade - when he'd been able to move freely in public.  He'd gone from the castle in Scotland straight to his parent's house.  "I don't have anything for you."  And, the prospects of rectifying that before they left on the 26th were slim to non-existent. 

He took the offered package but simply held it without opening it.  Distractedly, his finger trailed over a folded edge of the paper as he listened to the other boy.  Halfway through the apology, the shepherd pushed himself to his feet and padded over to Sasha, nudging his nose under the boy's hand and resting his head in the boy's lap. 

Finally, the other boy grew silent and, for a minute, Sasha remained equally still, one hand still holding the wrapped package, the other brushing absentmindedly over the dog's head.  After a few moments, Sasha shrugged, hoping acting apathetic about the whole situation would let the feeling take over again.  "It doesn't really matter anymore, does it?" he finally said, rhetorically though with a slight shake to his voice.  Waiting wasn't going to make the whole process any easier, though.

"I ... they knew about the suspension.  They ... my parents ... tried calling my school to find out what happened and complain.  And, ... um ... they knew I hadn't been going to Switzerland.  When I got home last week after ... you know."  You know translating to getting discovered in Hogsmeade practically on the arm of one of Wizarding Britain's most wanted.  Which, to be honest, in itself was rather confusing.  He knew what everyone - even Dreogan - had said about Kronos but none of it meshed with the man he knew.  "They cornered me when I got home with questions and-" He shrugged, against trying to appear as unconcerned as he could for his own benefit as much as Fergie's.  "They know everything.  And, they're transferring me to a boarding school in Altötting, Germany."  He nodded towards the trunk the blanket had been laid in.  "My stepfather's driving me there to see I get there." 

 "I don't... not like dogs," Fergie answered the other boy slowly, still keeping a wary eye on the shepherd. "I'm just... I don't have a lot of experience with them. Especially big ones." A small grin spread across his face and he added, jokingly, "I almost mistook him for a weird looking pony at first." A pony with sharp, pointy teeth.

 But, supposedly, friendly. Okay. Ferguson would just have to make a concentrated effort not to accidentally offer provocation. Why didn't they teach a class in canine-human etiquette at Hogwarts? He had no idea what might offend a dog. Maybe he should have signed up for Care of Magical Creatures after all. It would have given him something.

 In the meantime, the Slytherin kept his hands in his pockets, safely out of reach of any hungry horse-dogs. He didn't intend to lose any fingers today.

 Vacuum cleaner... Fergie repeated the phrase under his breath, filing the name away for future use. In case he ever happened to run into a muggle cleaning lady or something, he supposed. "I've never seen one." At home if anyone made a mess, either someone waved a wand to clean it up or the family's house elf took care of it. It was...interesting, to see how muggles managed without magic. They were very clever, it turned out.

 And, discussing the muggle cleaning device was much safer than starting up the conversation that was the entire reason Fergie was even there. But that couldn't be avoided forever.

 The Slytherin's brows knit together, both confused and concerned, as the other boy's shoulders sagged. That wasn't the reaction he'd expected, when he'd pictured giving the Ravenclaw his present. He'd imagined Sasha would be stiff and awkward, embarrassed, or annoyed, or maybe (hopefully) pleased. Not...sad.

 "I... that's okay." Fergie was quick to reassure him, offering Sasha an encouraging smile. "I didn't expect anything in return. I just, wanted you to have it. You know, because we're friends. We..." The million galleon question was hesitantly, hopefully, anxiously put forward. "We are still friends, aren't we?" Please, please say yes.

 The apology was met, at first, with silence. Ferguson didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but at least it meant the Ravenclaw was thinking it over, right? Finally the other boy shrugged and spoke, tone flat but slightly shaky. Wait - it didn't matter anymore? What did that mean? Of course it mattered. Or at least, it mattered to Fergie. Blinking, face troubled and nonplussed, the Slytherin waited for Sasha to elaborate.

 I ... they knew about the suspension.

 Oh. That was... not good. The boy slumped in his seat, eyes wide as the words Sasha was speaking began to sunk in. He'd heard enough about Sasha's family to know that the Schlagenweits hadn't taken the discovery of their son's magical abilities well, even without being told. But, Sasha was still there. So at least they hadn't kicked him out or-  wait....

 "Germany?!" Ferguson repeated, completely aghast. Not that it didn't make sense. It was where the Schlagenweits were originally from, after all. Of course they'd want to send Sasha there. But... "But - that's so far away!" From Hogwarts. From him (and yes, he was aware of how selfish it made him, being worried about that at a moment like this). "They can't... You're a wizard - you have to go to Hogwarts! You...you have to be trained. And you have a life there. Friends, quidditch, everything! They can't just take you away from..." He broke off, shaking his head, helplessly. Because of course they could. They were his parents. They could do whatever they wanted. "Bloody hell," he murmured, shaking his head again. "And you... are you okay?"

A weird looking pony?  Sasha scowled briefly at the dog before shaking his head.  He didn't, exactly, see the resemblance though, perhaps, he spent too much time around both ponies and Baldur to see that subtle resemblance.  There was, of course, no mistaking the distinctly dog-like characteristics of the animal who's head still lay motionless in Sasha's lap. 

Of course Ferguson didn't expect anything in return.  By the rules of etiquette, gifts were never given for the expectation of receiving in return.  Rules of casual social interaction, though, clearly dictated that one sided gift giving - especially when one's birthday wasn't involved - was just awkward.  Maybe, one day, Sasha would be able to rectify that.  There was no telling when, though. 

You know, because we're friends. We..."

Sasha finally looked up from the dog, considering Ferguson for a moment. 

"We are still friends, aren't we?"

All things considered, it seemed like that stray ... lip collision ... wouldn't be that important.  Sasha was leaving; it really didn't matter anymore.  And, if the lip bump didn't matter than there was, really, no reason to be angry.  Kronos had insisted there was no reason to be angry and, given the circumstances, Sasha was inclined to agree.  It certainly wouldn't matter enough anymore to justify remaining indefinitely mad to someone who'd, otherwise, been a good and reliable friend.  He didn't want to leave all of this on bad terms. 

"Yes," he offered with a shrug.  "I mean, for what it's worth.  I don't know when I'll be back but, I ... "  But, yes, he'd consider Ferguson a friend - even if it was from a distance.  Sasha flinched and looked back down at the dog, not wanting to see the aghast look on Fergie's face.  But, he nodded his head, unnecessarily confirming he was, indeed, going to Germany. 

He waited as the other boy worked through the various protests and couldn't be-s and reached the bottom line.  Fergie was smart, Sasha knew he'd realize this was inevitable.  Ferguson got there, of course, and Sasha nodded in agreement: Bloody hell, indeed.  "I ..."  It was strange how complicated a question like 'are you okay' could seem.  Right at this very moment, he wasn't thrilled about leaving but things could be so much worse. 

He shrugged, initially, as he tried to stop his mind from overanalyzing the question.  "I guess."  He cleared his throat.  "I mean, it has been kind of a rough week."  Sasha shook his head.  "He was so angry.  And, they didn't...they don't trust me anymore so they don't really let me go anywhere.  And ... I wish I was going back but, you know, maybe this is easier?  I don't have to deal with questions.  About ... everything."  He was leaving Hogwarts but he was returning to blissful anonymity.  Maybe the trade off was worth it?  "I'll miss it - I'll miss everyone.  Well, most everyone."  Not Callum or Xavier. 

He grew quiet, his mind growing eerily still as he stared off into space.  Then, he quickly shook his head.  There was no point in being all moody about it.  What was done was done and he could either approach it negatively or positively.  With a deep breath, he sat up straight and shrugged.  "My sister keeps saying it'll get better once I'm there and away from here, you know?  My sister, Jacoba, not..."  Strange.  He had to specify now. 

"I still can't believe it.  Ava?  I ..."  Oddly, that was one of his biggest regrets about going.  Ava had been so angry at him in Hogsmeade and Sasha couldn't tell if it was her really, truly being angry or her being in one of her strange states.  Which, Sasha had kept his promise from the beginning of the year.  Everyone knew about her strange moodiness but he didn't know how many people knew how often Ava never remembered anything during those moods.  It'd had always worried him but she'd insisted that it was better no one else knew.  But, he was leaving.  He couldn't keep an eye out for her anymore.  And, maybe he still shouldn't say anything but,... "I'm worried about her.  I think something's going on but she won't talk to anyone else."  And, now she wasn't talking to him. 

 Before he'd arrived, Fergie had thought if he could just get Sasha to say they could still be friends, he could walk away happy. With all this new information, however, it just didn't provide the comfort he'd thought it would. They could be friends for what...the next ten or fifteen minutes? Then Fergie would leave and Sasha would go off to his new school and they probably wouldn't see each other again. But... "Thanks. " He offered the Ravenclaw a small smile. "You're.... it's worth plenty."

 Only Sasha could call a week that had included hanging out with a murderer, having his biggest secret discovered and dealing with the fall out from that, preparing to leave a big portion of his life behind when he went off to Germany, and random Slytherins with crushes on him popping up in his barn as being 'kind of' rough. To Fergie it sounded like a bloody nightmare. He wasn't sure what this showed more clearly - that Sasha just did not have an easy existence, or that the Ravenclaw was a bit nutters. Perhaps both. Ferguson gave his head a slight shake. 'Kind of' rough, dear Merlin.

 And, it was just...it was so stupid. Being a wizard wasn't something that Sasha could help, anymore than he could help being blonde. It was written into his DNA. He could dye his hair but that didn't change the fact that it would grow out blonde again. They could take him out of Hogwarts but that didn't change the fact that the magic was in him, a part of him. If the other boy's step-father was going to be angry about something, it could at least have been over something Sasha chose to be, rather than just was.

 It was entirely frustrating.

 "I'm sorry," he sighed, running a hand through his hair without bothering to put it to rights afterwards. "I wish things were different for you. They won't...you're sure they won't change their minds? They won't listen to you? Or - anyone?" But then, he guessed not. They'd already spoken to a ministry official once before, after all. "I'm sorry," he offered again, quietly, because it was all he had to offer, really. "You'll be missed, too, you know."

 Sasha eventually fell silent. Fergie watched him for a few moments, chewing his lip. The other boy was...he was such a good person, always trying to do the right thing and make other people happy, and working harder than anyone Fergie knew. It wasn't fair that he had even half the trouble he did. Why couldn't this sort of thing happen to Callum, or Xavier? Someone who deserved it.

 Slowly, Fergie uncurled the fingers of one hand and stretched it out towards Sasha, but the Ravenclaw seemed to shake himself out of the dismal reverie just as Fergie's fingertips brushed his jacket sleeve. Immediately, the hand was jerked back an inch or two. But then he figured - well, what did he have to lose, really? He didn't know when, if ever, he was going to see Sasha again, and it wasn't like he meant anything by it. He just wanted the other boy to know that...that he was there, and he cared. That was all. So, taking a breath and trying to ignore the slight heat in his cheeks that indicated he was blushing again, he stretched out his hand again, reaching out to place it lightly on the other boy's arm. "I'm sure she's right. I'm sure it'll get better."

 He wasn't. But he figured maybe if he hoped it hard enough, that would do the trick.

 With everything else going on, Fergie had almost forgotten that, oh yeah - Sasha was related to the Grosvenors now. "I can't believe it either," he admitted, shaking his head, adding in a murmur, "Godric that has to be so weird."

 Something was going on with Ava? Fergie's brow knit together in a slight frown, concerned. He hadn't really spent much time with the girl lately, but... "I'm friends with her." This, at least, was something he could actually help with. "I'll try to talk to her, and at the very least I can keep an eye on her for you."

Blushing, Sasha shrugged dismissively.  He didn't know what was meant to follow that 'you're...' but it seemed to have the potential to be equally bashfulness- and awkwardness-generating.  Probably more so than the three words that followed in its stead.  Two months ago, Sasha had been basking in the bliss of naivity - Fergie's comment would have come and gone without much of a second thought.  He'd thought he knew where he stood and he'd understood his own place in things.  He'd been wrong but as long as he didn't know that, that hadn't mattered.

And he, quite honestly, didn't know what to make of Fergie.  He knew what he should be thinking; he knew what he would be expected to say and do should his stepfather happen upon them.  But here, now, with his departure for Germany just a few days away, he found himself uncharacteristically unmotivated to give any of those expectations much consideration.  It was a strange and, in its own way, slightly unsettling realization. 

When Fergie finally spoke, breaking the silence that had settled in the tack room, his frustration was easy to recognize.  At times, Sasha certainly shared the same frustration though, over the years, his acceptance of the situation had dulled the edge to the frustration. 

"No."  Sasha shook his head, shrugging his shoulders slightly.  "I can't even broach the topic - they don't want to hear it.  It just gets worse every time I bring it up.  I'm really just trying to get through until when I leave - then, at least, it'll be a fresh start right?"  In the hopes he'd eventually believe it, Sasha repeated those words again.  And, in his mind, over and over.  "But - it'll be alright."  The rest of what he'd been working on convincing himself of bubbled up out of necessity.  "I mean, it's not the worst that could happen.  I'll just go and finish up my muggle studies and when I'm nineteen I can go back and finish my OWLs and NEWTs.  I don't know if I can come back to Hogwarts then or if I'll have to get a tutor but ... it'll work out." 

Comments like you'll be missed were, usually, intended to make things better - to make the recipient feel better.  How often did they do the opposite, though?  Highlighting what one was leaving behind rather than offering any sense of closure or finality.  The skin across the bridge of Sasha's nose wrinkled and he covered his face with both hands under the pretense of rubbing his eyes. 

When he lowered his hands again, he saw Fergie's arm reaching slowly out towards his.  He froze, uncertain about how to respond and equally confused and a little unnerved about the obvious and uncharacteristic absence of the urge to pull his arm away.  He remained still, motionless even, not unlike Fergie had been a few moments ago as the German Shepherd had approached him.  And, just like then, it wasn't until the boy's hand settled on his arm with no obvious ill effects that he allowed himself to exhale.  He, of course, didn't expect Ferguson to do anything - of course not.  However, with all the stories Sasha had heard over his life time - all the arguments - it was hard not to expect something to result from the touch. 

But, there was no adverse reaction.  Slowly, he relaxed and, finally, he nodded, accepting the gesture for what it was: an expression of comfort and support.  He lifted his own hand and almost set it on top of Fergie's but, after a second thought, he let his hand fall back into his lap. 

"I - " Sasha looked up, startled and a little panicked, at first.  Was Fergie trying to talk to Ava the right thing to do?  Someone needed to - she needed to talk to someone who knew more than he.  Sasha was convinced of that.  But, every time he'd tried to approach the topic, she just got so angry.  He'd considered going to someone himself but he wasn't sure if that'd make it better or worse.  He'd felt helpless - like all he could do was try to be there for her.  And now - now he wouldn't even be able to do that.  She'd, undoubtedly, hate him more if she knew he'd said something to Fergie. 

But, then, if Fergie succeeded - it'd be worth it, right?  He'd rather Ava didn't hate him, but she was more concerned about her being safe.  "She'll probably be angry that you know - I ..."  Was Sasha setting Fergie up to loose another friend?  "I don't want to get you into more trouble," he admitted.  "And, it may be nothing - I just ... you know how she's been acting funny and all?  But ..." he hesitated a moment, again unsure this was the right thing to do.  Again, someone needed to know, though.  "When she's more like herself, she says she doesn't remember a thing that happened.  Sometimes, she doesn't remember weeks."

 "A fresh start..." Fergie repeated the other boy, a little bit absently. He was frowning slightly, because what he was really thinking about was how much he disliked Sasha's parents, a pair of people he'd never even met. Sasha wasn't five - he was fifteen, and mature for his age, not like some of the neanderthals in their year. He ought to have had some say in what happened to him. Didn't they know how intelligent he was? They could have at least let him talk, given his words some consideration. But then...it wasn't as if, in a similar situation, Ferguson's own parents would have been any different.

  The Slytherin sighed slightly and shook his head, the gesture effectively shaking him from this train of thought. "A fresh start that's...it's good. And, it'll be good to get away from here - Jacoba's right." He couldn't imagine being stuck in this tense environment was all that fun for the other boy. "And I bet you'll do great at your new school. You're so smart, the professors are bound to love you. The other students, too. If you talk to them." Especially the girls, Fergie thought, both wistful and jealous. They all did at Hogwarts, after all. Why would it be any different in Altötting? Stupid, lucky German girls.

 "But, you're planning to come back, after?" He asked, a little surprised. If it had been him, Fergie would probably just stuck with the muggle world. It would be so hard to go back and finish school after being gone so long. But then... he guessed it would be worth it, too. And he was glad that Sasha seemed to want to. It wasn't for another few years and who knew what would happen in the mean time, but hey - it meant there was a good chance that he'd see the Ravenclaw again, someday.  "And while you're gone, what about...what about owls? We can write to you, can't we?"

 When he put his hand on the Ravenclaw's arm, Fergie had half expected the other boy to pull his arm away, or at least flinch. But Sasha didn't. In fact, after a minute, he seemed to relax and Ferguson could have sworn, he could have sworn the other boy's hand had been about to be placed atop his own. The fact that it wasn't should have been a disappointment, he supposed, but just at the moment Fergie didn't care. The impulse had been there (or at least, it had seemed to), and that was enough to put a smile on the Slytherin's face and make his heart do that ridiculous skittering thing for a moment. Godric, he had it bad.

 The revelation about Ava, however, was enough to drive this slight giddiness completely out the window. Fergie's grip on the other boy's arm tightened slightly. "What do you mean, she doesn't remember weeks?" He didn't like the sound of that. The dark haired boy frowned at the floor for a moment. "That's bad, it's..." He shook his head. "She has to tell someone. How can she not... how can she not remember that much?"

"Yeah," Sasha confirmed.  It seemed a strange, admirable testament to the other young man that he'd, at least outwardly, started looking for the positives in the situation himself.  Convincing himself was so much easier when everyone else was believing the same thing.  Ferguson's acceptance of the inevitable and moving on were, without question, very much appreciated. 

WIth a nod, Sasha elaborated, hoping to strengthen the foundation of that perspective.  "I'll get to focus more on my muggle academics, you know?  Science and math."  Of course, school would be the first area he'd focus on while trying to find advantages.  "And, I'd get to ride more.  You know?  And, I have been missing that and, maybe, I have a chance of making it to the 2012 games.  Not to mention, I'll get to slow down a little - only taking one set of classes and all."  The reasonings, the excuses each followed in close succession after each other out of his mouth as if any space between them might leave room for doubt to flourish. 

"I hope so," he said, just a little uncertain.  He tried to ignore the color that rose in his cheeks from the other boy's compliment.  For better or worse, though, being smart wasn't all there was to it.  "The German education system is different - if you're following academia, like my school is, you're expected to keep certain academic standards.  You can get expelled if your grades aren't satisfactory."  And, he'd be expected to be satisfactory from the get go.  No one was going to take 'but my school didn't teach physics' as a satisfactory excuse for low marks. 

"To England?" Sasha asked, looking up at Fergie.  He planned on returning to studying magic.  Whether at Hogwarts or through a tutor.  But, that had seemed like a separate issue than where he'd end up.  He shrugged, glancing apologetically at the other boy.  Who's hand, Sasha was briefly aware, was still on his arm.  And, strangely enough, Sasha still wasn't troubled by it.  "I don't know. I mean, right now I've got dual citizenship for Germany and the UK but I have to choose one when I turn eighteen.  I-"  He just wasn't sure which way he'd go though he knew what his parents were hoping for.  "I can get letters but probably not by owl.  Unless, you know, no one sees it.  Which, I probably am in a double room."  A roommate meant less time alone; less time alone meant less time to do something without detection. 

Sasha felt the other boy's fingers close a little tighter around his arm and, this time, despite himself, Sasha finally rested his hand briefly on Fergie's before dropping it, again.  Again, he found himself torn between concern about leaving Ava on her own and respecting her privacy.  The concern, though, was winning out.  "It's hard to explain," because Sasha really didn't understand it.  "At times, she'll become aware of what's going around her and she'll be herself but she'll just not remember anything about the few weeks before.  Like she has been asleep."

Part of Sasha had been hoping Fergie would make some off-handed comment about how loosing time was normal.  That Sasha was worrying too much.  He didn't like Fergie's confirmation that this was bad.  "I don't know - neither does she.  Most of the time, she's so edgy and touchy lately-" or, sometimes, downright cruel.  "From what I can tell, it's those times that she can't remember. But, she won't talk to anyone about it."  He sighed, shaking his head.

 Listening as Sasha went on, listing the benefits to switching schools, the Slytherin knew the other boy was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince Fergie that this was a good thing. But that didn't stop the dark haired boy's heart from sinking just a little bit more, because from the sounds of things it really did seem like Sasha's life was going to be better without Hogwarts. One set of school work, more free time, more horses, more sleep... No Callum to shove him around, no rumors about boys kissing in the loo, no more having to worry about seeing his name in the Daily Prophet...

 It was completely selfish, but Fergie wished there were more things wrong with this plan. Because if things really did end up going this well at muggle school...Franziskawhatever... Sasha wasn't going to miss Hogwarts at all, after a while.

 And that was stupid. Both because he should want Sasha to be happy (and he did, he honestly did, aside from this small irrational part of his head that just wanted to be missed), and because honestly if Sasha were gone it might be easier for him, too. Give him a chance to get over the Ravenclaw, for one thing, and the rumors? They weren't exactly making his life easy, either. Out of sight out of mind, and next time Fergie could focus on making sure he did not become entangled in a giant crush on a boy who was never going to like him back.

 But Godric, he was going to miss Sasha. His adorable awkwardness and shy grin and the way his face turned tomato red when he was embarrassed (which was pretty much all the time) and how excited he got when he was talking about something he was enthusiastic about, like horses and nerdy science facts, and...

 And he had to blink and look away for a moment, before he did something incredibly stupid. Like take the Ravenclaw's face in both hands and lean in and kiss the hell out of him, since he was never going to have the chance to do so again. But, that would end badly. Very badly. Sasha thought it was wrong. Not normal. And, remembering this, the impulse was successfully killed. He had no inclination to relive that rejection. Especially not if this was going to be the last time he saw the other boy.

 He settled for stroking Sasha's arm with his thumb, instead. Just once. "It sounds like it will be great," he told the other boy, doing his careful best not to let any of the negative thoughts interfere with the encouraging smile he'd put on for Sasha's benefit. "I can't imagine you possibly receiving marks that are anything but satisfactory. You work so hard to keep up... I'm sure it's paid off."

 Dual citizenship? "Oh." Fergie blinked. "That... I didn't know that." So, Sasha might just stay in Germany after school? Well that was... He shook his head, to clear it. "Oh. ...I mean, if you like it over there and everything, that's...cool. They have magic there, too, I guess." Sasha didn't, really, need to be in England to finish his magical education. And by the time he graduated from muggle school, what would there be to bring him back?

 This whole thing sucked.

 "I don't know how to use the muggle post," he admitted after a brief pause, running his free hand through his hair again. "I'll find someone to help me, though."

 And then, miraculously (seriously, he swore this qualified as a miracle), Sasha's hand settled on top of his. Just for a moment. It was enough, however, to send a rush of color to Fergie's cheeks and effectively distract him. He knew this was important and he tried to focus, but it was difficult when his brain was busy going Oh my God, a boy touched my hand. And not just any boy, but the one he liked. Who, yes, was never going to like him back and who was leaving, possibly for forever, but... but he'd touched Fergie's hand.

 This was so going in his diary later.

 But right now, he had to focus. Because this really was serious. Not remembering what you'd done for weeks was... not normal. And Fergie had formerly just assumed that maybe Ava's bouts of...extreme grumpiness were due to that whole girly time of the month thing (ew). Something like that. Not remembering weeks, though, that sounded like something else. Nothing good.

 "She may not want to talk about it, but I... I think she needs to." Fergie frowned, biting his lip. "With an adult. Someone who would know what to do. That's serious. It could be... She could be sick, or it could be magic, or... Whatever it is, it's not something she should just, you know, leave alone and hope it goes away. It needs to be taken care of."

The other boy's finger moved gently against Sasha's arm and, though the gesture was small, Sasha felt his muscles relax.  For the briefest moment, Sasha let his eyes close blocking out the visual reminder of where he was and the complications that represented.  The loneliness that had been an ever-present byproduct of being confined to the house and preparing to leave everything he knew for a school he'd never seen ebbed slightly. 

But, suddenly, Sasha remembered.  He was in his step-father's barn.  With Ferguson Amherst.  The Slytherin BOY.  Who had a crush on him.  He was touching Sasha.  And, the most terrifying thought of them all: Sasha wasn't finding it as horribly unpleasant as he knew he should. 

Sasha's eyes grew suddenly wide as saucers and he froze.  Something, he noticed, had made Fergie look away.  Sasha's heart began to race and, in the next breath, Sasha pushed himself to his feet.  He picked up the other freshly-laundered horse blanket and busied himself with folding the edges in on themselves. Perhaps, leaving really was for the best. 

"It will be," he confirmed, with a little more conviction than before. 

Without looking up from the blanket, Sasha nodded his head.  "Yeah.  My parents are citizens of the UK but they were home visiting my grandparents when I was born."  Sasha was fairly certain that hadn't been pure coincidence.  And he still had no clue which direction he was going to go.  "I'm sure they do."  It was now clear that both of the boys were trying to combat the unspoken awkwardness with casual conversation.  "And, I guess ... Durmstrang -"  Sasha shook his head.  He'd find a way to come back to Hogwarts before he'd go there.  From what he'd heard about that school, they'd eat him alive.  It sounded like Slytherin.  On steroids.  "A tutor would probably make the most sense."

"You could ask Jacoba.  She'd show you."  Despite the awkwardness and that moment of panic, the recommendation had been presented quite readily.  "She's working in Diagon, you know.  It's kind of weird, actually."  He and Jacoba had discussed, on several occasions, Jacoba returning to Germany with him.  But, in the last day or so Jacoba had admitted she really hoped to remain in Britain.  She hadn't explained why but Sasha had to admit having her here helped him feel not entirely cut off from the Wizarding World. 

Sasha nodded.  He'd been saying everything Fergie had just told him to Ava for months now.  "I saw her last week in Hogsmeade after-"  Sasha hesitated, glancing up at Fergie apologetically.  "- I met up with my sister."  Or, rather, Sasha's self-proclaimed 'father' had drugged them and Dreogan had found them ... singing.  "She was so angry.  About ... well, me.  I know she'll hate me if she knows I told you.  But, maybe ... maybe she'll listen to you more than she did me.  I mean, you're pureblood.  And, I'm the wrong breed."  The last few folds were done a bit more hastily before the blanket was dropped in the second tack trunk. 

Shit, Fergie thought, his arm dropping to his side as Sasha quickly stood and set about folding things again. Clearly, Ferguson had crossed that invisible line between acceptable and unacceptable physical contact. If the way the Ravenclaw's eyes had widened hadn't been enough indication, the way he'd swiftly gotten to his feet and seemed to be taking extra care not to meet Fergie's gaze certainly was. Brilliant. This was exactly what he'd been trying to avoid.

 Because it didn't feel great, knowing his very touch could send this boy into a panic. It wasn't like Fergie was horribly disfigured or had dragon pox or anything. He was clean cut, well dressed, completely harmless and not at all repulsive. Except, apparently, for that one little detail...

 "It's not a disease, you know," he blurted out before he could stop himself, face flushing red. Licking his lips, he rearranged himself so that he was sitting with arms folded, hands tucked in to show the Ravenclaw that he had no intention of repeating that mistake. Fergie chewed his lip, then shrugged and continued quietly. It was too late to going back to tiptoeing around the giant elephant in the room, anyway. "Being gay - it's not contagious. I can't ...infect you. You can stop worrying."

 It was actually kind of ridiculous. Sasha had spent a month living with a murderer, but he was afraid of a teenage boy with a crush on him? How sinister a monster Fergie made, spending his free time doodling FA + SS in his diary and indulging in the occasional romantic day dream! Definitely the stuff nightmares were made of.

 "And, I guess ... Durmstrang -"  Sasha shook his head. "A tutor would probably make the most sense."

  "Yeah, I think a tutor would be best," Fergie agreed, nodding. "Durmstrang isn't a very friendly environment. It's very dark artsy, from what I understand." Which, for a boy like Sasha, was not exactly a good thing. It was like an entire school of Callum Knights. Fergie heaved a mental shudder - that was a nightmare he never wanted to come true. "Our new defense professor used to teach there. Professor Storm." He opened his mouth to elaborate on this subject, but realized it might be a bit insensitive to discuss school with Sasha right now. He could write to him about it later, when Sasha was good and settled in to his new school.

 Yes, Fergie did know that Jacoba was working in Diagon Alley. She'd actually become quite notorious throughout wizarding London, thanks to the posters some ill wishing individual had posted throughout Diagon and Knockturn. Charming. "Yeah, I'll talk to her. She seemed nice, when I met her. Do you know if she still intends to stay, after yesterday?" he asked, referring to the attack on Reducto that everyone seemed to be buzzing about.

 Fergie flushed, trying not to think about that meeting with Kronos at the winter fest. It had been terrifying (although, thanks to the giddy powder, more so in retrospect than during the actual encounter) and humiliating and bewildering. He just...preferred, right now, to pretend that it hadn't happened. He'd just focus on Ava. That was the real issue, after all.

 Wait, the wrong breed? "She said that?" Fergie frowned, eyes narrowed. It wasn't exactly surprising for a pureblood to make snide remarks about a muggleborn or halfblood's heritage, but... Ava and Sasha were friends. Well, siblings now, he guessed, but before that they'd been friends. "I'm sorry." He apologized, not so much for Ava, specifically, but on behalf of purebloods in general. They could be real ignorant arseholes sometimes. He was related to about half of them, he should know. "I'm sure she didn't mea- maybe she was just, you know, in one of her moods."
 

The blanket had just dropped from his hands into the trunk when Sasha froze, staring at a random spot on the floor somewhere in between him and the other boy.  That wasn't what this was about!  It wasn't about whether or not it was ... Sasha hadn't even said that!  "I don't- It's not- I know it's not a ... It's not that."  Even if Sasha knew what it was, chances were slim he'd be able to articulate it.  That wasn't something he was supposed to be discussing in the first place.  Even the thought of that word being vocalized in his stepfather's barn was enough to make Sasha sweat. 

Yes, that word. 

"Shhhh!"  Sasha said, urgently, lifting his finger to his lips as he darted towards the tackroom door.  Chances were slim anyone had overheard.  He hadn't heard the hoof pick clank off of the barn door and Baldur hadn't alerted to any sounds outside.  But, he still felt compelled to open the tack room door a crack and peek out.  The barn hall was empty.  He clicked the door closed again and leaned on it, glancing awkwardly in Ferguson's direction.  "Look - I'm sorry.  I'm not worried, okay?"  Well, that wasn't really true.  He was worried - but not that Ferguson would infect him or anything. "It's not you I'm worried about.  It's just ... it's confusing alright?  I ... I don't know."  He probably shouldn't have said that and, he'd rather not think about it.

He hesitated another moment but, then, moved back towards his chair and sat down again.  He nodded in agreement that his sister was nice before looking up in confusion.  "Yesterday?"  He repeated, scowling in confusion.  "What about yesterday?  What do you know?"   

Sasha nodded and shrugged at the same time.  "It probably was ... one of her moods."  Of course, the Ava he'd seen then had seemed much more like the Ava he remembered from a year ago.  Back before the Quidditch match and the kiss at Halloween.  "I just hope she gets better soon."  Of course, what if being better meant more like before?  But - no - Sasha couldn't think like that.  It wasn't fair.  "But, thank you.  She'll probably hate me more for it, but I guess that won't matter much anymore.  I'll be happier knowing someone's trying to help."