Since that first evening Sasha had been sorted into Ravenclaw tower, there had been something of his in that lofty dorm he shared with the other boys in his year.  Over holidays and summers, the only thing Sasha ever brought home was the very muggle suitcase filled with the uniform and books he, theoretically, used at his Swiss boarding school.  His broom, his Hogwarts school books, even his wand were usually left behind, on his bed, until he returned at the end of the break. 

But, not this time.  All of his things - wizarding and muggle - had been packed away in his suitcase and trunk and were stacked up by the dorm's portrait hole.  His broom was propped up next to them.  A wand ... his wand? was held loosely in his hand.  Perhaps it was just the odd surreal effect of the moment that intensified the impact of the analogy but it seemed strangely ironic to the Ravenclaw that he didn't have the faintest idea as to the material structure to the wand.  He hadn't known what wood or core had been used to make the first wand he'd obtained during his first year until they'd checked it in at the Ministry back in November. 

He'd found that first wand and now it was still somewhere in the Ministry as part of the investigation into Ava's murder.  The wand he currently held was the one he'd taken off of that Ashford fellow and it had been the one he'd protected himself with.  But, they had completed their investigation as far as that wand was concerned.  They knew who had cast which spell with it and no longer needed it.  Chances were slim Sasha would see the other wand until they identified whose hand it was in when it had ended Ava's life.  Sasha had possessed and used four wands that year.  Both of those that had been rightfully his had been destroyed - one by Knight and one by his parents.  Now, Ashford's mystery wand was the only one he had left to levitate his trunk and suitcase down from his dorm room. 

And, he'd be happier if it weren't so blatant how much better Ashford's wand worked for him than his first. 

There'd been very little time to say goodbye.  The owlpost from the Board of Governors had arrived during their late post-dance breakfast.  He'd found the people he felt needed to tell; the list had been rather short.  Mostly a few professors.  He hadn't been able to find Ferguson, though.  The Slytherin had still been sleeping in.  In most of the other cases, embarrassment had won out and Sasha had turned his attentions to making his departure as quite and unnoticed as possible. 

"You're the one seeing me to London?"  The fellow that approached looked oddly familiar but distantly enough that it was clear he was the visitor.  One of these governors who was sending Sasha away from school.  "Can we, you know, go down the back stairs?"

Arathorn had taken his time getting up to the Ravenclaw tower to accept his ward. Moving through the stone corridors, passing the whispering portraits was enough to bring back fond adolescent memories. While most in his year believed he didn't know how to have fun and wasted his time studying he had thoroughly enjoyed his time at Hogwarts and only hoped his grandchildren were enjoying themselves just as much. Although admittedly he only truly felt that for one of them. For the time being Xavier was the only one he called his, the only one he wasn't ashamed to lay claim to and the man he would groom to eventually take over his business.

The others . . . well there wasn't much to be said about the others. Peyton and Helena had both been sorted into Ravenclaw proving that there was some Wentworth blood running through them even if it had been tainted with that horrible muggle tart his son had run off with and he had heard that Bridgit and Lewis were attending Hogwarts as well, both in Hufflepuff. However he had discounted them as family almost as quickly as he had with Peyton and Helena. His daughter had been right to leave that useless Nilson man and return to the family to be properly married off. Thankfully none of his other children had caused him much grief.

Arathorn climbed the final set of stairs to the tower and was slightly surprised to see that the young man was ready to go and that he was on his own. He had been worried he'd have to endure some lovey dovey tearful goodbye. After all the man was being taken away half way through the year but Arathorn thoroughly agreed with the rest of the board of Governors that it was for the best. While he didn't really have sympathy for the man's situation (it seemed he had a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time) he understood it.

"Yes. I'll be escorting you to London where a suitable guardian will be picking you up." Arathorn wasn't entirely pleased about spending his day babysitting but he wasn't about to disagree with the board. Besides he needed the good PR. Two weeks prior he had gotten into an altercation with an auror when he tried to get Xavier back into school. Then the red robed idiots had the audacity to accuse the kid of  causing the murder just because of the unfortunate family name he preferred. Arathorn was proud that Henry had married a woman from such a well known pureblood family but Athalia's brother Cinaed was a bad apple and he was bringing everyone else down including his nephew.

Arathorn straightened the silver fastening on his traveling cloak, the decorated clasp bearing the Wentwroth family crest, the same fastening Xavier had been wearing since returning to school and the same symbol that was embossed on Peyton's trunk, "My name is Arathorn Wentworth. I'm one of the school Governors." He glanced at the trunk behind Sasha, "You all ready then?"

Arathorn Wentworth? 

"You're related to Peyton?"  The question escaped the Ravenclaw before he could think better of it.  Given the context clues, the answer was obvious.  He recognized the crest on the clasp - the sign of a pureblood family.  Luckily for Sasha, Peyton had never shared many of the purebloods' anti-muggleborn sentiments. 

A suitable guardian.  He wasn't even going home.  He was being escorted, like some government worked who'd just been laid off - or, perhaps, like a prisoner being escorted by a guard, away from Hogwarts into the supervision of a suitable guardian.  If he was considering this logically, he understood the reason for the escort; the last time he'd been sent from school he'd been abducted by Katsaros.  Sasha couldn't even begin to fathom what the man standing next to him thought of him.  But, regardless of what he thought as an individual, the evidence all pointed to a few simple facts: the Headmistress disliked him and wanted him out of school, the Board of Governors wanted him out of school. 

"I ..." Sasha chewed the inside of his lip and shook his head.  "I ... I don't want to go."  He was sure it sounded as trite and childish as it felt.  But, it was the truth.  Hogwarts was now the closest thing he had to a home.  He liked Dreogan and Akiva was nice enough.  He appreciated them taking him in.  But, he'd been there less than two weeks and it he'd been rather detached.  It just still wasn't home.  It was confusing.  "I ... I don't understand."  He didn't. 

But, he glanced down at his things and lowered his wand, letting them settle to the floor with a quiet thud.  "I've got everything packed."  That, ultimately, was the man's intended question.  "I ... I guess I can't use my wand outside of school, though."  Which meant there was only so far he could go with escorting his things.  Speaking of which...

"How ... how are we getting there?  I ... if it's at all possible, I don't want to side along."  He'd done so on two occasions in the past.  The first time was the forced apparition with Katsaros when Sasha had been completely immobilized.  The second time had been with Dreogan when he'd come to take Sasha away from his family's home after the murders.  The thought of such a means of transportation was enough to make his breath quicken.  "Can we take the floo network?"

Arathorn visibly stiffened when the boys first reaction to his name had been to connect him with his son's bastard offspring. He supposed it was only natural. Afterall Henry had made sure that his son held the family name and while Xavier had forsaken it the moment Henry left Peyton never had a reason to resent such a connection. While he wasn't proud of it he supposed he couldn't hide it. The boy was Ravenclaw and likely knew both Wentworth's that resided within the house.

"He's my son's child." He spoke in such a way that answered Sasha's question but also held a tone of detachment. He could have simply said that Peyton was his grandson but that kind of ownership just didn't feel right and he would have likely choked on the words. That would not have given the young man a very good impression of him. Not that his actual answer would have either.

He looked down to the man's belongings. He suddenly turned squirrelly and anxious. Arathorn clenched his jaw not wanting to come across as impatient as he was feeling. He wasn't a babysitter and didn't really want to be the one to explain this all to him, "As I'm sure you were informed the board feels that with everything you've been through lately it would be better for you to be amoung those that care best for you." His cool blue eyes darted to the entrance to the Ravenclaw house. Perhaps Hogwarts really was the best place for the kid right now, being around his friends, safe within the castle walls but Arathorn wasn't one to disagree with the board especially when he had already cast his vote to remove the child from school.

He nodded when it seemed as though Sasha had accepted his fate. He removed his own wand and levitated his truck charming it to follow them as he turned his heel and started to lead the child down the back stairs as requested, "You won't be needing your wand for the time being." He said simply. He understood how rough it would be for the young man to leave school before he was legally of age, before he was allowed to do anyting for himself. At least he had enough summers pass to give him practice in not using magic.

"If you're more comfortable with using the floo, I see no reason not to use it." He knew that transportation would be an issue and had caused a fair amount of talk amoungst the board. It had been suggested to use the train from Hogsmeade to take the child back to London but Arathorn didn't think spending so many hours alone with the child would be healthy for him. They could have requested a port key but Arathorn was more confident in Apparation. Of course Sasha seemed to have an aversion to apparating leaving Arathorn with less choices on how to get him to Dreogan.

He tried to remember if any of the fireplaces within the castle were connected to the network. He could always go to the Headmistress and ask but that would make him look incompetent and ill prepared, "We'll be going to Hogsmeade then and leave from there."

"You're son's-"  Sasha started to repeat but quickly caught himself.  He had plenty of familiarity with family drama and the complexities of relations.  He was curious, of course.  He didn't remember Peyton talking much about his grandfather.  He hadn't given the absence of information much thought; he certainly hadn't offered much information about his own grandparents.  But, he also was well aware when something was none of his business.  This Governor wasn't the one to ask; if he was really curious, he was better off asking Peyton. 

Sasha shrugged off Wentworth's defense of the Governor's decision.  Especially these last few weeks, 'being amongst those that cared the best for him' meant being here at Hogwarts.  With Fergie and other friends.  But, he wasn't about to admit that to this man. 

"How am I going to prepare for exams?"  Sasha asked as he slipped his wand into his pocket.  "Almost half of it is practical demonstrations.  If I can't do magic outside of school, how will I prepare for them?"  He half-expected the simple answer of 'that's not my problem.'  It would have been the answer he'd gotten at home, from his family - his old family.  There was never an allowance for luck (bad or good) or fate or any such random occurrences so feeling sorry for oneself was never allowable.  Unfortunate consequences were, usually, retribution for mistakes.  He was here because he'd broken rules and he'd made mistakes; this was his punishment. 

He nodded to confirm his preference for using the floo network.  "Alright," he agreed.  There was a very profound deja vu nature to this whole situation.  He turned and started to lead the way down one of the back staircases, taking his broom and the muggle suitcase himself and leaving the trunk to the man. 

Arathorn looked to the younger man, for a moment surprise registered on his features. He had to admit he admired the kid. Even after everything that had happened, his family's death, the death of the poor Gosvenor girl and being whisked away from his whole life at Hogwarts he was still concerned with his academic efforts. He looked away for a long moment pondering the question for himself. For a second he cursed the Governors for not making him better prepared for this. All he knew was that he was supposed to escort the man back to London where his new guardians would take him. After his kidnapping (Merlin why wasn't this kid more messed up) they didn't really trust him to travel on his own.

Arathorn took a deep breath, straightened his back and looked ahead as they headed out the grand front Entrance and into the biting cold of the front courtyard headed for Hogsmeade, "Your new guardians will be responsible for making sure you receive additional lessons. There are plenty of tutors within the Ministry that I'm sure would be more than pleased to take you on as a student." He paused for a moment trying to give the kid the best answer he could think of. He didn't want to leave him in the dark nor did he want to give him the impression he didn't care. While he really couldn't be all that bothered to care about the young man's position he wasn't one for encouraging negative impressions of himself even if he was only sixteen.

"Eleor works for the Ministry I'm sure he could get a pardon for your trace. He can clear it with the Improper Use of Magic office, explaining your situation. We wouldn't want such a bright young mind squandered due to bureaucratic red tape now would we?"

Oblivious to the reason for it, Sasha ignored the look of surprise on the man's face as he followed him down the back staircases.  Just before reaching the main hallways and the entrance hall, he ducked his head and pulled the hood of his school robe over his head.  He just didn't want to hear or see any of it - the whispers, the questioning looks or the victorious satisfaction on some of the Slytherins' faces. 

Sasha heard the reassurance but found himself dubious.  Again, the academic component seemed easy enough.  Given ... everything, though, was the Ministry really going to let him practice magic outside of school?  "I - maybe," he replied, doubtfully, as he followed the man across the school grounds.  Then, with obvious bitterness, he added: "at least it sounds like the Ministry might be on my side."  Unlike the Headmistress.  And, unlike the Board of Governors this man represented.  "She's been trying to get rid of me since the start of the year."

It was, by now, late enough in the day that even those who had slept in after the dance had finally made it to Hogsmeade; there was no shortage of students scurrying through the streets.  Sasha continued to keep his hood up though he pulled it back just enough to be able to scan the passing faces for a familiar Slytherin.  He didn't know whether Ferguson would be in Hogsmeade or back at the castle but Sasha had still not seen him.  But, none of the faces was the one he was looking for. 

He paused outside the Three Broomsticks and waited for Mr. Wentworth to lead the way.