Being only two years displaced from field work, Tulojow had yet to shake the habit of sleeping lightly and waking at the slightest disturbance.  The loud, purposeful knock on the front door was enough to pull Tulojow to complete wakefulness.  She pushed herself up out of bed and drew a flannel dressing gown around her shoulders as she made her way from her bedroom, down the stairs and out into the main room of the hospital hut. 

She tugged the front door open and wordlessly beckoned the three into the main room, doing a hasty initial evaluation of the visitors and their conditions as they slipped inside.  Over their shoulders, she could see the grey-haired figure of Ignan moving off towards the castle.  Tappy looked a little chilly but nothing that a few minutes inside by the fire wouldn't rectify - he certainly wasn't obviously clinical.  The unconscious form in his arms - a quick peak under the lapels of the robe wrapping her confirmed what the full body swaddling suggested.  "Go ahead and set her in the first room," she instructed, gesturing to the door closest to the kitchen. 

The boy was pale and his skin cold and clammy to the touch and both eyes dilated.  His expression was of unshielded defeated.  "Will you go out to the side of the house and grab some of the seasoned white birch?  We need to get him warmed up," she asked, first of the boy and then of Tappy when the man reemerged from the first bedroom.

Tapendra, who had been quietly using the Scourgify spell to remove the blood from his sweater, nodded to Tulojow mutely and headed out of the door.

He started  taking deep breaths of the cold night air once the door closed behind him, trying to clear his head. The nausea was fading now, a bit. It certainly helped that he wasn't carrying Ava's body and having the...well, the bits shift every now and then, usually when he thought his stomach was calming down.

Still, the nausea from that experience was getting replaced with a knawing worry. This was going to be a long night, he felt. He'd quietly asked Ignan to take the long way around when it came to getting Snark; they'd get more information out of Sasha without her presence, he felt. He just hoped the professor acquiesced - he knew he'd messed up a  bit in the woods.

He chewed his lip as he picked up the firewood. He had a distinctly sinking feeling about how tonight was going to go - unless Sasha was able to wake up and explain what had happened, the boy was in for a lot of trouble. He knew what his own conclusion was - but he doubted his own emotional response would have much effect on Snark.

Sasha had killed Ava...probably. He just wasn't ready to believe that the boy had done it maliciously - just like the Daily Prophet's article, it had to be self-defense...right? Tapendra sighed. He just couldn't bring himself to believe Sasha was an actual murderer. But 'I'm sure he's just incredibly unlucky!' wasn't going to convince Snark, much less anyone else.

He glared at the wood pile. He was being dumb and emotional again, wasn't he? Damn. Right now, it was his job to get as much information from the boy as possible.

He returned with the wood after a few minutes, setting them down by the fireplace. "How bad is he,  Nagde?"

Tapendra slipped out to fetch some wood and Tulojow turned towards the Ravenclaw.  He wasn't in any condition to answer questions, yet.  And, there'd be plenty of time for that - any question she asked were bound to be repeated once Tapendra returned.  And, when Snark got there.  And, presumably, the Ministry.  She would focus on getting the boy to a state where he could answer questions. 

"Come on, son," she said, gently, ushering the young man into the room on the end, furthest from the room that held Ava's body.  The young man showed little resistance as she guided him into the room. 

"Bring some of that in here and fill the stove," Tulojow asked the Astronomy professor.  The more out of the center of everything the boy was, the better.  And, the warmth would build faster and be retained better in the smaller room.  The young man was obviously disoriented and confused, his mind effected by the cold and, very likely, the mental trauma of ... whatever had happened.  He barely seemed to take notice when Tulojow changed Ravenclaw's dirty, cold and insufficient clothes for clean, warm flannel pajamas with the flick of a wand. 

Tulojow looked towards the professor and shook her head.  "He's pretty hypothermic and has other shock on top of it.  We'll have to get him warmed up slowly - and watch for any secondary effects from that process.  I think he'll survive.  But ... we'll see."  She wrapped a wool blanket around the young man and pushed herself to her feet.  I should get some warm potions into him ... I - let me -"  She was thinking aloud as she straightened up. 

"Quimbly!" she called.  Within a moment, a yawning, groggy house elf popped into the room, looking eager but confused.  "Could you please go to the Slytherin boy's dorm and bring Mr. Amherst back with you?"  The elf nodded and popped out of the room, again. 

"Do you know what happened?" She asked the professor as she nodded towards the other room. 

He started the stove, coaxing the flames up to a healthy blaze with a combination of his wand and the poker. The boy did seem to be in bad shape - it was good to hear it was recoverable. He followed her out of the room, leaving Sasha to rest.

"I'm honestly not sure what happened out there tonight," he said after the door had closed. "When Ignan and I arrived, we found him sitting in the snow, holding Grosvenor's body. It seems he attempted to bring her back, but didn't get too far." He flopped down on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees. "Her body's in...very bad shape, as you saw. I don't think he has external injuries, but he's acting like he may have gotten hit with some nasty curses - of course, that's more your area than mine." He rubbed the bridge of his nose as he spoke, thinking back to the scene. "It seems with a combination of their physical states he wasn't able to move her very far. He certainly didn't want to let go of her." He smiled, but it wasn't a happy one. "I'm sorry, I'm repeating myself, aren't?"

He ran a hand through his hair, watching as the house-elf departed. "It would seem they had a...fight, of some kind. Given his state, Ignan and I brought him back here - we didn't get much chance to inspect the glade. But I didn't see any obvious signs of a third party." He frowned, looking up at the ceiling. "As for how the fight started or what happened...hopefully he'll tell us. If he won't tell us, maybe he'll talk to Amherst."

Tapendra looked at Tulojow and smiled vaguely, but it had a sad bend to it. "Sorry to wake you up so suddenly. It's going to be a long night, isn't it?"

She didn't know if the boy was they type who was prone to doing something incredibly stupid when things looked particularly horrible, but she has no intentions of finding out the hard way.  She kept the bedroom door open and cast a simple caterwauler charm on the doorway.  She'd be happier once someone was keeping a constant eye on the lad but time had a way of being ones worst enemies in these situations. 

"Why were you out looking for him?"  She asked, keeping her voice down as she crossed the length of the main room to the first bedroom.  She pushed the door open and stepped inside and left it open behind her.  "How long were you looking - how long were they missing for?"  She moved over to the edge of the bed and carefully unwrapped Tapendra's robes from around the girl's body.  There was an age old saying about hypothermic patients: one was never dead until they were warm and dead.  But, one look at the curse's effects left little room for question about the girl's state.  She was dead long before any hypothermia might have set in.

It would be left to the medical examiner to do a full post-mortem evaluation, of course, but a preliminary cause of death could help determine how this evening progressed.  She ran her hands through her hair, drawing it back from her face and twisting it into a knot at the back of her head. 

"Most curses leave some sort of external mark.  Only a few don't - those are usually the illegal ones.  I'll take a closer look in a few minutes.  And, no.  You're doing fine."  She glanced up, watching Tapendra a moment before moving away from Ava's side and closer to him.  It was easy to forget how, just because the other man was an adult, this kind of stuff didn't exactly get easier to swallow.  "Are you alright?" she asked, gently

She shook her head, turning back to the body.  "It's probably best you didn't do too much inspecting.  The more ... official this stays, the more weight whatever findings there are will have."  The real meaning behind the man's words sunk in and Tulojow slowly exhaled, closing her eyes.  "So, you're thinking he might have done it?" 

Leaving the body uncovered, Tulojow moved back out into the main room and over to the table by the fire.  "I know I shouldn't be saying anything but I'd ask you not to jump to any of your own conclusions around Snark.  In this instance, she may not quite see the value of innocent until proven guilty."  She scribbled out two notes as she spoke, only pausing once to glance up, pointedly, at Tapendra. 

"Yeah.  This could be a very long night," she agreed, turning back to the two notes.

"I'm fine. Just wasn't not expecting...this," he said, standing up again and fussing with the fire, largely because he wasn't sure what to do with himself. "I'm also not too keen on, uh, blood. Especially when it's from a source that looks like Grosvenor does."

He stabbed the logs with the poker, and a bunch of sparks flew up. "They where reported missing," he explained. "The rest of the teachers are searching, too; Ignan and I where the pair sent to check the woods. They hadn't been seen since after dinner and never returned to their dorms." He put the poker back in place once the fire was stoaked to a blaze and started warming his hands.

He swallowed loudly at the mention of Snark. "Don't worry. I plan to keep my mouth as shut as possible." He smirked; that'd be a feat if he managed it. "As for if I think he did it...I'm not sure. The basic look of the scene certainly points to that, but..." he trailed off and sighed. "I'm a sentimental idiot, most of the time. I don't think he murdered her." He made a sound halfway between a grunt and a short laugh. "I haven't known him that long, so I don' think pleading that'll solve anything. But he just doesn't seem the type. And the way he was clinging to her - he was crying, too." He looked towards the open door. "It didn't seem like a murder scene, is all. Killing her in self-defense makes that scene make more sense to me."

Tapendra flung his hands vaguely. "I'm sorry. I'm not used to dealing with this kind of thing. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Tulojow nodded, taking the fellow at his word.  "If you start to feel too light headed, let me know."  The Healer offered the man a small, sympathetic half-smile, half-smirk before shaking her head.  "That's good to know.  It makes me a little concerned when people start expecting something like this."  Especially when the person was a professor, not an Auror.  She grew quiet a few moments as she finished scribbling the note.

Tulojow Nadge
Hogwarts Health Hut
Hogwarts Grounds

Tamis Raynor
London, England

Tamis -

A student has been killed.  Response from Auror office needed as promptly as possible.  I'm begging a favor of you.  Due to the circumstances, I ask that you personally evaluate the situation before deciding who the investigation would be assigned to.  If you are unable to come, please, do not send Ackerly. 

It's a long walk from the gates to the hospital hut.  It's fastest to apparate to the entrance hall of St. Mungo's and floo from there.

- T. Nagde

She folded up the note and held open a door to the kitchen as a large golden eagle swooped into the room.  The eagle took hold of the note in its long talons, just as Tulojow tossed a handful of floo powder on the flames.  The cabin's floo network connected directly with St. Mungo's, in case of any medical emergencies beyond the capabilities of the hut.  It was the fastest way to get the bird to London.  Depending on how far Tamis lived from the hospital, it would only take moments for the Head of the Auror office to respond.  But, the eagle didn't dive towards the fireplace.  Instead, it changed its course, soaring up through an open window. 

"Good," Tulojow admitted.  "I - they'll look at all of it and ... figure things out."  She was trying to be neutral but it was proving difficult.  "I don't know him that well, either.  But, a good friend of mine, I'm sure, would vouch for him without question."  And, Tulojow was very inclined to believe him.  "Whether he killed her in self-defense should be easy to prove, though.  Do we have their wands?  We should be able to see what curse she cast."  When they were cast, though, would be harder to determine.  Unfortunately, there weren't time stamps on previously cast spells. 

Tulojow nodded.  "I'm going to go check on him.  Keep an eye out for anyone arriving.  A rather short woman may be coming in through the floo network.  Let me know if she gets here." 

"I don't think I'm in any danger of passing out," he said. "This sort of stuff doesn't happen where I live. Then closest was when..."  he paused, then fell silent as she finished writing the note.

He was impressed by the eagle, he had to admit - it was certainly more attention getting than an owl would have been.  He didn't ask where it was going - he'd find out soon enough, he figured. "Good," he said, visibly relaxing. "If there's someone who knows him well who can testify on his behalf...then maybe it'll help."

His look of surprise at her mention of them probably should have told her all she needed to know about the wands. "Damn!" he said, louder than he'd meant to. "Grosvenor's on her body - had it in her hand..." he paced in front of the fireplace a few times, trying desperately to remember if he'd seen Sasha's wand at all. "Ask Sasha about his. I didn't see his wand on him - he might have it - if not, it's still in the woods, probably in that bloody glade. Damn." He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of that when they'd retrieved the two. He was supposed to be a professor, for Merlin's sake. He hadn't even thought of it, and had been focussing getting Sasha out of the woods. Sentimentality could be so damn frustrating.

He nodded silently, his fists down at his sides as Tulojow vanished into the room. Then he stomped into the room with Ava's body, looking down at the girl. Her body was still mostly wrapped; her upper body was somewhat exposed from Tulojow's check. He found a small towel and steeled himself; then he carefully unwrapped her enough to get at her hand, gently removing her wand. He placed the wand, hidden inside the towel, on the table next to the bed. He wrapped Ava back up and went back into the main room, setting the wand carefully on the counter.

 Fergie had no idea what was going on. All he knew was that one minute he'd been comfortably asleep, dreaming pleasant, peaceful dreams, and the next he'd been awoken by a house elf and told that he was needed at the hospital hut. He hadn't wasted time asking questions, or changing out of his pajamas, either - just threw on a pair of trainers and the first sweater his hand touched. He didn't even comb his hair. If he'd been called out of his bed and down to the hospital hut, there was obviously an important reason behind it.

 The fifth year shivered as he followed the house elf, Quimbley, out of the castle and across the grounds. He really should have thought to slip on his coat - it was freezing out. But even with the cold, his mind was racing, coming up with possible scenarios that had prompted this surprising summons. It couldn't be his sister, Anastasia, could it? He'd just spoken to her before bed, and she'd seemed fine.

 He shook his head, trying not to think about what might have happened and just focus on getting there. Which he soon did.

 The Slytherin pushed open the door and stepped into the main room, out of the cold. To his surprise the person he first encountered upon crossing the threshhold was not the healer. Instead, it was Professor Trishna, the new Astronomy professor. Fergie blinked, brow wrinkling. "Excuse me, sir - could you... could you tell me what's going on?" He asked, obviously both anxious and confused. "Why am I here?"

"Amherst," he said, jumping a little. Unconsciously, he shoved Ava's wand a little bit behind him. "I'm sorry you where woken up like this, Amherst, I really am," he added, walking over to the boy and steering him by the shoulder towards the couch. "You where called here because...I think you'd want to be, but also because we need your help, and so does he." He took a deep breath.

"I need you to stay calm and listen to me, alright? We need you to be able to reassure him and if you bolt in there all worried no good will come of it." He smiled, as reassuringly as he could.

"There's no nice way to say this, Amherst," he sighed, rubbing one of his temples. "Ava Grosvenor is dead. She's been killed, by someone, but we're not sure who yet," he said, as levelly as he could. "Schlagenweit was found with her body. We were sent to find the two after they were reporrted missing - Professor Storm's gone to the castle to fetch the Headmistress. Before they get here, we need answers."

He put a hand on the boy's shoulder, kneeling next to him. "Schl- Sasha's in bad shape, Amherst," he said, looking sad. "His life isn't in danger, but he was out in the snow for hours, he's badly hypothermic and in shock. If anyone of us can get through to him, it's you." He patted Fergie's shoulder. "Tulojow's with him now. Before you go to see him, tell me - is there anything you know that can help us find out what happened tonight?"

 Trishna was jumpy. This did nothing to quiet Fergie's growing sense of dread. When Professors were nervous like that, it was never anything good. The young man allowed himself to be lead over to the sofa, and sank down onto it. He needed Fergie's help? Not Stasia then. But he thought he knew who it must be. There weren't a lot of guys at the school that Ferguson was particularly close to. Only one, really, that he could see himself being pulled out of bed and down to the hospital hut for.

 Stay calm. Fergie nodded his head, accepting this admonishment, and chewed his lip. Of course, it was easy to stay calm when he didn't actually know what was going on. Easier anyway. There was still the frantic need to be told what had happened, because if he wasn't his mind was going to back to building up its own version of possible events again and then he might explode.

 But what had actually happened was so much worse than anything the Slytherin had imagined. Ava? Fergie's breath left his lungs in a quiet whoosh, and he looked as absolutely stunned as he felt. All he could do, for several moments, was blink stupidly. He tried to keep up with what Trishna was saying, but his mind was still stuck on this one fact.

 "Ava's dead?" Not only that, but Sasha had been the one to find her. Or, rather, be found with her, hypothermic and in shock. With Snark on the way. This was a nightmare. That was the only explanation for it, because things like this? They didn't happen in real life. Fergie considered pinching himself to double check that he was really awake, but decided against it. He knew he wasn't sleeping. He just wished that he was.

 "I- She's been acting strange, for a while now." Fergie's throat had gone dry. He cleared it and ran an absent minded hand through his hair, licking his lips and mentally repeating to himself stay calm, stay calm, stay calm. "Moody. She'd get mean, in ways that weren't Ava mean. Or just generally behave... oddly." He paused for a moment, and shook his head. "She wouldn't talk to anyone about it, but she talked to Sasha. She told him that, those times she acted - weird... she told him she couldn't remember them. That she'd forget weeks at a time. Sasha was trying to help her, to convince her to talk to somebody, but she wouldn't listen. And then she was so angry with him, because of what the Daily Prophet said - about them being siblings, and she wouldn't talk to him anymore..."

 He trailed off, and his eyes focused on Professor Trishna once more. "You think he did it," he said quietly. It was phrased as a statement, but there was a question in his eyes that showed he hoped he was wrong and Trishna didn't believe that after all. "Sasha's not a murderer. He wanted to help Ava, not hurt her. That's all I know. Please, just take me to him."

He patted Ferguson on the shoulder again, nodding. "Thank you, Amherst," he said gravely, as the boy finished his explanation. His look was grave, but he had to admit the description gave him some hope. He shouldn't jump to conclusions, he knew, be he'd also been in decent DADA classes - he knew what that sounded like, at least. The forgetfulness was odd, though - memory charms? His stomach sank a bit.

Tapendra looked up at Fergie abruptly when the boy spoke quietly. He looked away for a few moments; his look of guilt and posture should have been enough proof for Fergie to know his words had been spot-on. After a lapse of silence, Tapendra spoke.

"There was no sign in the glade they where found of a third combatant, Amherst," he said, standing up. "Just the two of them. So to answer your question: yes. I think he did it. I just can't - and will not - believe he murdered her. It had to have been self-defense." He was aware his voice had wavered on the 'had'. "Schlagenweit just...I can't see him as a murderer. Not if Grosvenor was a friend or family member."

He walked towards the door to Sasha's room and paused, turning to Fergie quickly. "When Snark comes, do not mention I said that. She'll have enough fodder to expel him as is. I can only hope he'll tell you something that can throw her off, or Tulojow will find a spell in Grosvenor's wand that will prove he was attacked."

With that, he knocked sharply on the door to Sasha's room, then opened the door slightly. "Tulojow? Amherst is here, and wants to see Schlagenweit," he said.

Tulojow turned away from the Ravenclaw and towards the door.  "Yes, just a moment, though."  After setting a gentle hand on the  blond, she crossed the room to the door and stepped outside.  She tugged the door closed gently behind her, stepping just far enough away to limit how much of her voice carried through the door. 

"I appreciate you coming down," she offered Ferguson with a soft, sympathetic smile, nodding slightly to Tapendra.  "I presume he gave you a little bit of a head's up as to what's going on.  As you probably heard, Sasha came in here severely hypothermic - from what we can gather, that was on top of shock from ... well, we don't know the whole story."  Shock from the death itself seemed to be a given - whether he'd killed her or it had been murder didn't change that fact.  By the sounds of it, that could have been compounded by the after effects of whatever curse he'd been hit with.  The end result were simple yet significant: he'd already been weakened before the hypothermia set in. 

"He's doing alright, right now.  Still a little disoriented and altered, though.  But, complications from severe hypothermia aren't uncommon - stress, nerves, anything that speeds the heart can increase the chances for these complications.  Things very well may get a little hectic in here and I'd like to keep him separated from it all as much as I can.  But, I don't want to risk leaving him unsupervised if I don't have to.  I'm hoping you'll be willing to keep an eye on him for me." 

She paused, an eyebrow lifted, waiting for verification either way.  The two boys were, obviously, friends - that much had been evident when Ferguson had acquired a bloody nose while defending Sasha.  She assumed (and hoped) that indicated they were close enough (or, even, that there was some truth to the rabid rumors) that the boy would be willing to help but there was always a chance she could have assumed too much. 

"I need him to stay awake until he's warmed up and we can't warm him too quickly.  If you can't keep him awake, come and get me.  If he seems to get more confused or disoriented, come and get me.  Obviously, if he stops breathing or his chest hurts or ... basically, if you have any questions or concerns at all - or he's trying to do anything particularly stupid - don't hesitate to grab me.  Doesn't matter what we're doing out here, alright?" 

She stepped back to the door, and pushed it open, ushering Ferguson inside and gesturing for Tapendra to close the door behind him.  The advantage of having the stove going in a small room was completely lost if the door was left open.  The Ravenclaw glanced up and over at the group as they entered, his eyes settling, almost immediately, on Ferguson.  His eyes, which had been distant and unfocused a moment ago, widened and grew round and he swallowed hard.  The shift was subtle but observable if one looked closely enough. 

 Fergie had hoped to find reassurrance in Trishna's face. That's what adults were for, to tell panicked children that everything was going to be all right. And while at sixteen Fergie liked to think that he had moved beyond the realm of childhood by this point, at the moment he felt enough like one to cling to this belief. But all Ferguson found was further evidence that the man thought just what Fergie had suspected. The Slytherin's shoulders slumped and he directed his gaze to the floor. At least the Astronomy professor believed it to be self defense. That was better than nothing. Although if Trishna - who, so far, seemed to be one of the nicer professors, and who'd been kind to Sasha - thought that, how much worse would Snark's opinion be?

 Professor Trishna was right. The woman was going to have plenty of excuses to expell Sasha. Excuses she'd jump at. She'd already suspended him, for a month, when he hadn't actually done anything wrong. Why wouldn't she expell him, too? "No, I won't, I..." Fergie gave his head an emphatic shake, stomach twisting up in anxious knots. "I wouldn't say anything to cause more trouble."

 He knew, without a doubt, that if Sasha had done this (and that was something Fergie would never believe unless he heard it from Sasha's own lips, whatever anyone else chose to think) it was because he'd been attacked. Badly. The Ravenclaw was used to being pushed around by idiots like Callum, after all, and (except for that episode in DADA) had never offered up violence in return. And if there was no evidence of an attack on Ava's wand, then Fergie didn't care that they hadn't found signs of another person in the glade - it meant that Sasha hadn't done it.

 But the young man didn't think he could verbalize any of this without getting a little hysterical and higher pitched than normal, and he was supposed to be staying calm. If he didn't, they wouldn't let him see Sasha. So he kept quiet and simply nodded, crossing his arms and hugging them tightly to his torso. This was a lot to take in.

 And there was more to come. Fergie tried to peek around Tapendra when the man opened the door, attempting to get a glimpse of the Ravenclaw inside, but was thwarted by the the healer exiting out of it. He gave the woman another nod in reply to her greeting, turning an anxious face towards Tulojow and waiting for her thoughts on Sasha's condition. Severely hypothermic. Trishna had said badly. Fergie didn't know why that distinction was so important, the two words weren't dissimilar, but for some reason 'severely' just made everything worse. And the bit about possible complications wasn't exactly reassuring either.

 Still, he agreed without hesitation when Nagde said she hoped Fergie would keep an eye on the other boy. "Of course," Fergie said, as resolute as possible, and was relieved when his voice didn't shake as badly as he'd thought it might. "Of course. I'll do anything I can to help." Which apparently boiled down to - keep him awake, keep him calm, report any concerns, and try to find out something useful, so Sasha didn't get expelled. Or worse.

 It was a lot of pressure, and Fergie couldn't help feeling somewhat overwhelmed. His friend was dead, Sasha was in bad shape and even worse trouble, Snark was on the way... it was just a lot to deal with. But he nodded, again (Godric, he was beginning to feel like a bobblehead). He could do it and he would, because he had to. But also because Trishna had been right - Sasha needed him. Fergie was one of the few people left on Sasha's side, and he refused to let the other boy down now. He held onto this thought as Tulojow ushered him through the door, and kept his face carefully, stubbornly gaurded as he stepped inside.

 Seeing Sasha was still something of a shock, however - although Fergie kept his reaction as internal as he could. The other boy was pale and looked so... lost. He felt his heart wring sharply and he had to resist the strong, compelling impulse to rush across the room and wrap his arms around Sasha immediately. Instead he stepped slowly over and reached out to gently take one of Sasha's hands, holding it in both his own. "Hello, love," Fergie said quietly, and offered the other boy a slight smile, being as reassuring as he could. "You okay?" It was a stupid question, an incredibly stupid question. Anyone could see the answer to that. But Fergie didn't know what else he was supposed to say, just now.

Tulojow offered the young Slytherin a soft, encouraging smile and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder as he started to slowly cross the room.  The little shift in the Ravenclaw's demeanor was all she needed to see for the time being.  They'd be alright left alone.  The Ravenclaw was unlikely to try anything stupid and the Slytherin was bound to do as instructed and grab her if he did - or if anything else went wrong. 

What the exact nature was of the boys' friendship was, at this point, open to speculation.  Judging by the sources of the abundance of rumors and the distinct lack of verification from reliable sources, it seemed the vagueness was intentional on the boys' part.  As far as Tulojow was concerned, that was just fine.  The small details of the Ravenclaw's life had been made public enough over the last few months - Tulojow would do what she could to keep what was intended to be private, private.  She slipped through the door back into the main room, tugging the door closed behind her. 

The woman tugged her wand out from her pocket and, with a slight wave, cast a single-direction muffling charm on the door.  Sound would easily penetrate the door from the inside of the bedroom but sound from the main room would be reflected back from the door.  She wanted to be sure to hear the slightest sound of trouble in the room but wanted to shield the two boys from whatever heated - or unpleasant - discussions were likely to occur.  The muffling charm was followed by a simplified version of the caterwauling charm.  Neither of the boys were prisoners, of course, but she wanted to be aware of anytime anyone entered or left that room. 

"It's a good thing you found him," Tulojow told the Astronomy professor as she started gathering a variety of jars from one of the pantries and pushing her way into the kitchen.  "Was it by chance you did?"  She arranged them on the kitchen table and gathered three empty tea kettles.  "You found her wand?  If I can have it?"  She pulled a clean dish towel out of a drawer and held it out towards Tapendra to catch the wand in.  "You'd be surprised by the length of the list of protocols for proper evidence wand handling.  I presume you haven't tried to use it or test it?  Or modified any other evidence?"  Somehow, they'd have to figure out about the boy's wand.  After portioning out a variety of herbs and dried berries in each of the pots, she filled them with boiling water and let them steep. 


The door clicked shut behind the Healer leaving the two of them alone.  Pale blue eyes followed the Slytherin as he moved across the room towards him.  The Ravenclaw sat on the bed, slightly cocooned in a bundle of blankets.  Fergie's hands felt warm - almost too hot - against his own frigid fingers as he cradled them.  Under any other circumstance, Fergie's greeting would have taken Sasha by surprise and would have prompted the usual blushing and awkwardness.  But now, against the writhing fear, pain and grief, he could only accept it at face value.

He didn't know what to say.  He didn't know what he could say.  Nothing made sense.  And, part of him didn't want anything to make sense.  Because he knew what would come with that.  Once or twice, a few random, strangled sounds escaped his throat - the fledgling attempts at speaking - but they died quickly before fully materializing.  Slowly he shook his head and, finally, managed a single, strained murmur.  "I'm sorry." He shook his head as he leaned against Ferguson and dissolved into tears.