Fergie rolled his eyes and looked away, pulling his arms in closer to himself when Sasha shushed him. He knew the other boy was more afraid that someone would overhear than anything else, and that Fergie himself was less irritated than he was, well, hurt. The Slytherin closed his eyes and let out a long, slow sigh when Sasha said he was sorry, and willed himself to just... not worry about it. If Sasha said it wasn't that, wasn't him, Fergie would believe him.

 "All right," he said, relaxing a little, nodding in acceptance. "I guess... I can understand that. When you've been told for years that something is wrong, being introduced to another viewpoint can be- unsettling." Fergie glanced up at the other boy a little hesitantly. "Do you still think it's... That I'm..." He trailed off and shook his head. It didn't matter anymore. And he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

 Oh. Sasha hadn't heard? Fergie grimaced, throwing an apologetic look at the Ravenclaw. He guessed the other boy couldn't really get the Daily Prophet here. "There was an attack at Reducto," he explained, quickly holding up his hands and hastening to add, hopefully before Sasha could freak out too much, "No one was hurt! Some idiot just threw a rock through the window. An auror was there, but whoever it was disapparated before they could catch them. Some people aren't exactly... um, receptive... to the idea of a muggle working in Diagon." He shrugged, wrinkling his nose. "It's ridiculous, but then - well, you know how the purists can be." And so, unfortunately, did Fergie. He was related to about half of them, after all.

 "She won't hate you." Fergie tried to be encouraging, offering the other boy a small smile. "You're just trying to look out for her. When Ava's ...better, she'll realize that. And I'm sure she'll be grateful for it. I'm happy to help." Especially if it made Sasha feel better, although he figured it was best to keep that thought to himself.

 "I should - should I go?" he reluctantly asked after a few moments, chewing his lip again. He didn't want to, but -"I did promise I'd only stay a few minutes. I don't want to get you in any trouble. I know you have enough of that already."

The other boy's question trailed off and Sasha was more than happy to play dumb and convince himself he had no idea what Ferguson was actually planning on asking.  It spared him from trying to figure out an answer to a question he really had no interest in answering.  After years of habit and teaching, the gut reaction to the question he knew would have been asked was 'yes.  But, I guess I can ignore that.'  He knew that was the answer he would have been tempted to offer but something was giving him reason to pause and be grateful he hadn't been put in a position to provide it.  Just to add to the mess of confusion, Sasha had no idea what prompted the reluctance. 

As Ferguson had expected, Sasha looked up, quickly, at the news that Reducto had been attacked and he listened, closely, to the rest of the details.  He presumed Jacoba hadn't been hurt - he was certain someone would have told him by now if she had been.  But, the Slytherin's last comment was true; more so than Sasha suspected Jacoba cared to recognize: many wizards weren't going to be receptive of her being there.  "Yeah, I know.  And, that's probably just the beginning."  He'd already started to pull out his mobile, flipping it open as he began to punch out a text.  Chances were, Jacoba would be at work and Sasha knew she wouldn't get the text until whenever she stepped out of Diagon to check her phone.  Clearly, though, this changed the whole picture.  It had always been a possibility before, of course, but now it had happened and Sasha was going to be in another country. 

"I don't know if she'll be staying," he repeated, this most recent news leaving him more doubtful than he had been a few minutes before.  "We'll see." 

Really, at this point, whether or not Ava would hate him seemed a very much a secondary concern.  He was leaving; she didn't need to worry about her long lost half brother.  He'd know someone was keeping an eye on her and that was plenty for him.  He nodded, accepting Ferguson's help, looking down awkwardly at his hands. 

He was leaving.  This was it.  Chances were, if Sasha said anything other than 'yeah, you probably should go,' it would just be more awkward than it already was.  Staying off the inevitable for some, strange, inexplicable reason.  So far, Sasha hadn't been caught and the longer Ferguson lingered, the more likely it was for someone to come looking for him.  But, he found he wasn't in that big of a hurry to send Fergie on his way.  After a moment's hesitation, Sasha cleared his throat awkwardly before nodding slightly.  "I ... um ... probably need to finish packing, anyway, and they're expecting me back inside when I'm done.  And, I -"  He pushed himself to his feet, glancing around the tackroom.  What was the appropriate thing to say in this kind of situation?  Goodbye was something you said when leaving a neighbor's house after a dinner party.  Right now, it seemed so trite - so ... insufficient. 

"I ... guess I'll see you.  Sometime."  Or, probably not.  "I - um...good luck."