10am / Sasha's English Home

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It was nice to be home, and not in a 'running away from my problems' kind of way. It was odd to realize how accustomed he'd become to muggle life, how easy it was to shed his wizarding tools and devices and gain his (much more convenient, thankyouverymuch) muggle ones.

He kept his wand, of course.

Maybe this was how those fully-integrated muggleborns felt. Personally, he couldn't understand why they'd want to leave all this stuff behind. It wasn't like wizards could Tweet. Yet, anyway.

He'd written ahead to Sasha, his letter formal, and gotten an equally formal reply. The boy's homework had been getting more and more...well, sup-par lately. It wasn't like his work was incorrect, but it was just...lacking, like Sasha wasn't putting much effort into it. That was worrying, but how did you ask that in a letter? And get a good answer, that is.

Thankfully his professional duties offered him an easy excuse to check up on him in person: Career Counselling. Doable via a letter? Of course. But so much more effective if done this way. It was early, of course, but he had no idea when the boy would be back yet, and wasn't in a hurry to crawl to Snark's office and find out. He'd much rather wait 'til she wasn't there so he could snoop.

It was via this excuse - and worry - that he found himself hugging Cyhirae goodbye and getting into his car on the morning of the 7th, the day after they'd returned home to Cambridge. Sasha's new home actually turned up on a GPS - only about an hour and a half away via the M11 and M25. Could he Appriate there? Of course, but he hadn't driven his car in so damn long...and you didn't get to play music while you Appriated. Or sing obnoxiously loud.

Sasha had been nice enough to give him the gate code, and he had to admit he was...a bit overwhelmed. This was a level of nice house that he usually associated with pureblood wizards, not muggles. Of course he knew muggles lived like this too, but row houses were so much more...normal. Average. Less expensive.

He parked his car where he hoped it'd be out of the way, hopping out and running a hand through his hair. The temptation to explore was indeed a strong one, if not a nice one. His memories of Hasard Hall made him wonder where the secret doors were, and where they led...

Dismissing such thoughts, he found the front door (after a false start sent him towards the gardens, having missed the painfully obvious archway) and rang the doorbell, his hat tucked under his arm. There weren't any other cars in sight, which made him bite a lip - was the boy here alone? That'd explain some things, certainly...

Sasha had no idea what to expect.  Despite what had been written in the letter, he wasn't even sure what Professor Trishna's underlying motivations were for coming.  He knew what the letter said: Professor Trishna was now his Head of House and needed to conduct the standard fifth year career counseling meeting.  And, he was concerned about Sasha's recent homework. 

Perhaps this was just a reminder that Sasha wasn't on vacation - that he needed to stay on track with his homework.  Though, Sasha really didn't need reminding.  He certainly hadn't been slacking.  In fact, between his internship, his classes, his Hogwarts studies, keeping the property tended, his show and game schedules and handling his family's affairs he was as busy as he'd ever been.  It was just, perhaps, he'd found himself a little distracted and his attentions focused elsewhere.  And, lately, they were largely directed at the upcoming full moon. 

Or, his professor - and now Head of House - was coming to express his disappointment in Sasha.  That certainly seemed to have been the trend for the year.  He'd disappointed Madame Snark and she'd turned against him the whole year.  He'd disappointed Greyfriar and he hadn't spoken to Sasha since last October.  He'd disappointed his parents and Ava and they were both gone.  He'd even disappointed Dreogan and, now, it seemed he'd moved on.  Ferguson and Kronos, it seemed, were the only ones who hadn't found some reason to be disappointed in him. 

Sasha[1] had been trying to distract himself while he waited for Professor Trishna to arrive but his mind hadn't been able to focus on the notes for the lab report he was trying to finish.  What's the anion of HC₂H₃O₂?  He knew the answer though his mind kept drifting before he was able to commit himself to the answer - let alone to applying it to his current hypothesis.  He'd just managed to type out The acetic acid breaks down into C₂H₃O₂ ion when the doorbell chimed and Baldur trotted off to the front door.  Sasha set his laptop on the coffee table and followed the dog. 

"Allo, sir," he offered as he pulled the door open.  Tail wagging, Baldur trotted up to the visitor, sniffing briefly at the cuff of the man's pants.  "I- please.  Come in.  It's- can I get you anything?  You don't mind dogs, do you?  He's friendly - unless he's given a reason not to be."

1.

Outfit

"Good morning, Sasha!" he said, giving the boy a bright smile before he bent down, extending his hand for Baldur to sniff. "I don't mind dogs," he said, stepping through the door once Baldur seemed satisfied. "My house just has too many breakable things at wagging-tail height to keep a large one," he explained with a laugh. "And cats and dogs don't really get along well."

The interior was as lavish as he'd expected; he paused a moment while he looked around, unable to help leaning forward to look down one of the halls.

"Oh - yes, ah, tea would be lovely," he said quickly, realizing he'd left the boy standing there. "I can help you make it, if you like," he added, reflexedly looking about for a hat rack to stick his hat on - and not seeing one. Blinking and without much else to do with it, he held it to his chest as he stood awkwardly, gaze returning to scanning the house. He didn't hear much, either; his own experience with large houses had been a different kind of quiet - Prideaux's mansion had the been the quiet of dozens of people doing their best to make no noise, the screams of others muffled behind rock walls and earth. This was just...silence. This was no one, doing nothing.

"Are you alone here, Sasha?" he asked, keeping his tone casual. "Muggles, you know, might make this a bit awkward if they overhear," the excuse was quickly tacked on, but the concern in the first question was obvious.

The man's greeting was bright and cheerful - in no way reflective of a man who was simmering with disappointment.  Sasha took a deep breath and tried to force himself to relax; a quick glance at the dog verified that the dog was completely at ease.  "Depends on the dog, I suppose," Sasha said, snapping his fingers and beckoning the dog back to him.  "But, I think that's a wizarding myth.  They seem to prefer cats," he pointed out.  Magic, he supposed, could do most of the jobs usually delegated to dogs, rendering dogs relatively replaceable.  Cats, by and large, were pretty useless - and, therefore, harder to replace.  "Most dogs are actually alright with cats.  Baldur often sleeps with our barn cats."

Which was probably more information than Professor Trishna wanted. 

Sasha flushed slightly and turned, starting to lead the way to the kitchen when he noticed the other man's awkward fiddling with the hat.  In the past, any visitor to the house would have been greeted by Edith who would have taken their coats and hats and tucked them away in a back closet.  Nothing was ever left to clutter the entryway and mar the first impressions of subsequent visitors.  Sasha led the way to the suite in the back of the house which had served Edith's living quarters and opened the first closet and waited for Professor Trishna to stow his things.

"I- that's good," Sasha commented, quietly, as he led the way to the kitchen, his face growing a shade brighter.  "I, you know, never really learned how to make it - tea."  He shrugged as he glanced around the large kitchen.  "I mean - I only drank it when I was away at Queen Ethelburga's and the staff there always made it.  It was too British for my parents." 

From what Sasha had observed, it didn't seem like tea was that difficult.  He'd seen Akiva make it on quite a few times.  Put hot water on some tea leaves and wait.  Not that difficult.  Of course, the British always seemed to treat the process like some religious ritual that had to be performed to precise specifications so he'd always figured it was best to leave it to the natives.  He managed to find a tea pot and a tin of teabags and set both on the island.  "The faucet on the far right dispenses boiling water.  I don't really know how fresh they are but I don't know if tea goes bad.  It's dried, so ..."  Sasha shrugged and gestured towards the sink before pulling a (much more used) coffee maker from a cupboard. 

Initially, Sasha shrugged at Professor Trishna's question and then nodded.  "Wilhelm lives here, too - he was our barnhand.  But, he had to go down to Stuttgart.  Something came up with the lawyers with our property down there and it's all kind of a mess.  He's supposed to be back Friday, though."  He shook his head, dismissively and a little uncomfortably.  "But, I don't think it'd have mattered.  He knows most of it.  He was here when my parents first found out - with all the yelling and ... stuff ... it would have been impossible for him not to know.  Not sure what he understands, though.  We don't really talk about it."

"With bags, it's pretty simple," he assured him. "Hot water, soak it, pour in the sugar and drink." He'd never really learned to properly make tea, either - as a child, that had been the elf's job, and as an adult, tea bags were faster and more importantly, cheaper.

His hat stowed and sleeves rolled up, he quite quickly busied himself about the kitchen, clearly used to cooking for himself in strange kitchens, even if he did seem a little overwhelmed at the amount of stuff in the kitchen. Maybe this was how Ignan felt - well, no. He knew what this stuff was, he was just hearing little cash registers go off in his head as he tallied it up.

He paused in stirring one of the cups as Sasha confirmed he was alone. "I see," he said, quietly. What could he really say to that? There were a lot of questions - why did Dreogan give you up, why aren't you being watched properly - but he settled for the one foremost in his mind.

"You might have guessed by my letter," he said as he went back to stirring the tea, "That your homework and counselling aren't the only reasons I'm here," he said. He had been since he'd first heard about the boy, in a reflex kind of way. "How are you doing?" He asked, pulling the second cup towards him to stir that.

So - tea was as easy as he'd always assumed it was.  At the mention of sugar, he tracked down serving tray of sweeteners (raw sugar, white sugar, brown sugar, sugar cubes, two types of artificial sweeteners, honey, drink stirrers made of crystalized sugar) and set it on the island. 

Worry flashed across Sasha's features along with an unmistakable look of resignation.  For a brief moment, until Professor Trishna posed his question, Sasha second guessed his assessment of the tone of the meeting. 

"I'm sorry-" he offered, reflexively, before the man's question had even registered.  He blinked and shook his head, glancing down at the coffee maker as he poured some Italian espresso into a mug with some cream.  He caught himself just in time to ward off the apology for the misplaced apology. 

Though, perhaps, Sasha would have preferred apologizing for instilling whatever disappointment he might have caused.  That was easier than ... well ... delving into one's emotions.  And, Sasha had gathered the question wasn't posed as one of those passing inquires that didn't expect much beyond a simple 'fine, swell.  How are you? in return.  He'd never been good or comfortable with sharing emotions.  Doing so, as he'd been taught, demonstrated a lack of control over the image one presented to others and, thereby, was an expression of weakness.  Complaining had been, likewise, discouraged.  It only displayed either an unwillingness to suffer the consequences of one's own behavior or a lack of initiative in solving one's own problems.

Sasha shrugged and shivered slightly, glancing around the cavernous kitchen.  "I don't know," he finally admitted.  "I mean ... I guess things are going well.  I like interning with the DoIMC.  And, I like my classes."  Going through the motions of the day had, finally, regained a sense of normalcy - or as close as it could come to normal.  If he didn't think about returning to Hogwarts or his last fight with Fauna or the upcoming full moon or any of the memories that came with this house, he was fine.  Then, there was the fact that the place he felt he belonged the most - without any sense of self-editing or hiding - was with Kronos and that fact stood in such stark contradiction with everything those he trusted said.  And, he knew things would only get worse if he told anyone. 

Figuring it all out was, very much, beyond his capabilities.  So, he'd stuck with going through the motions.  "I don't really know.  It's all kind of confusing."

He wound up grabbing one of the crystallized tea stirrers, if only for the novelty.

"Understandably." Confusing certainly summed it up in a nice little word, he was sure. He'd been confused when his mother left - but mostly, he'd been angry. He wondered for a moment of Sasha was; the boy certainly didn't seem to act it. Possibly the chaos of the entire affair had overwhelmed any emotion other than bleak confusion and loss.

"I just ask," he explained as he grabbed another tea stirrer - and then a few lumps of sugar. "I ask because recently your homework's been... different. Not bad," he added quickly, flashing the boy a smile. "Just not as thorough as it was before. Your answers are still correct, so don't worry about your grades dropping. But..." his smile turned vague and e sipped his tea, then added more sugar.

"How do I put this? I'd have expected the other way around - shoddy homework right after the suspension, and then improvement. If something happened, it's alright. Quite frankly, I'm impressed with you," he said, finally seeing satisfied that his tea was sweet enough to kill teeth at twenty feet. "You've maintained incredible grades throughout all of this." An escape method, perhaps. Either way, he didn't mind.

"Don't worry about having to tell me anything," he said, setting the tea down with a lick of his lips. But talking helps, sometimes, and..." he sighed, deciding to be frank. "Honestly, I'm not that comfortable with you being left to yourself right now. I worry."

Sasha let out a long sigh, nodding his head.  Despite the professor's lack of admonishments, Sasha looked genuinely crestfallen.  He hadn't been giving his homework - at least his Hogwarts homework - the same diligence he usually did.  He blushed, though, when Professor Trishna admitted he'd been impressed and muttered a thanks. 

Professor Trishna had reassured Sasha he didn't need to explain but, somehow, not doing so felt ... awkward.  Rude.  "I've ... I don't know.  I've been distracted," he admitted with another shrug.  "Being back here, you know, it's weird working on that stuff.  You know-"  Sasha shifted uncomfortably and set his mug down on the counter.  Even saying the word felt uncomfortable.  Unsettling.  "Magic.  I spent almost nine years always trying to hide it.  It still feels wrong doing that stuff here.  It just ... it makes me nervous." 

That, of course, was really only the start of the reasons for his distractibility.  The other part - or one of the parts - the part he'd been trying to ignore still loomed in the next few days.  He could only nod in agreement with Professor Trishna.  He didn't like the idea of being alone in this house - or anywhere - on the ninth.  Or, apparently, around the ninth if those rumors about super-werewolves were true.  Every time he thought about the coming full moon - of making his way to the Ministry and then walking home after they'd finished their test - he could swear he could smell the breath of those beasts.  That rotten, musky, sour...

Sasha's nose wrinkled and he quickly shook his head, trying to force his thoughts back to the present.  Or, anything else.  He looked back across at Professor Trishna, his eyes refocusing on the other man as he shrugged. 

"If I can get passed the night after tomorrow, I'll be alright.  I don't mind staying with Wilhelm.  And, it's not really my choice." 

Tapendra watched him as he spoke, then sighed, reaching over to silently pat Sasha on the back. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, fingers gripping Sasha's shoulder. He looked around the house - another question rising to mind, but he didn't want to bring up Sasha's parent's death, not now. No matter how much the possible answer to said question made him angry.

"From what I've seen with Ignan, you're still performing well in his class," he said, tone reassuring as he could make it. "I only live an hour away, so if you'd like help over this coming week..." He smirked. "I'm not that good at his subject, of course, but blasting me into the mud might help with stress, hah." His tea was cooling, which made it easier to drink in long pulls. He got back to that as Sasha continued, looking confused as he finished.

"You have a test in a few days?" he asked, brow furrowing. "Isn't your muggle school out for the spring holiday?" The only test he could think of was...no, those were before break, weren't they?

Sasha saw the hand reaching for him out of the corner of his eye, first.  Reflexively, he flinched, clenching his eyes shut but the reaction was brief.  In the next moment, he relaxed and his mind was able to work, identifying the gesture for what it was: a friendly gesture of concern.  He nodded his head, slightly in appreciation but, at the some time, reached around awkwardly for his cup of coffee. 

"I'm definitely trying, Professor," Sasha ensured, latching on to the much more familiar and comfortable topic of classes.  "I've always struggled a bit with Defense but it does seem to be going better."  Struggling being an Exceeds Expectation rather than an Outstanding.  "Having a wand that works definitely helps," he added with a snorted sardonic laugh.  Despite his current wand's unsavory beginnings (at least with him - the wand's actual beginnings were still a complete mystery) and his initial apprehensions about using it, Sasha was beginning to feel at ease with it.  Perhaps, even starting to grow fond of it. 

"I'm hoping I'll actually manage an O in Defense this year."  As his current Head of House, Sasha assumed Professor Trishna was aware of Sasha's marks.  At Hogwarts, at least.  Hogwarts probably didn't bother with keeping his previous school records on file.  "I think I'd be okay if Divination was the only, you know, outlier.  And, with OWLs coming."  Sasha sighed and nodded.  Regardless of any discomforts with the location, he needed to not avoid his tutoring and studying.  He could just spend more time in the barn's office.  Or, as Trishna had offered, he could go to stay with him.  Or, blasting him into the mud.  Sasha laughed, more earnestly this time as he shook his head.  "As tempting as that is, I'd rather stick with the fun math stuff with you.  If I go back to Hogwarts, yours is the only class that will help me get ready for A-Levels." 

"Ja.  Our spring break's a whole two weeks but we're going down to Germany next week to help move the cows.  And, I've got a big lab report due when I get back," Sasha confirmed, shifting uncomfortably, again.  The conversation had just managed to go from academics back to werewolves.  Such would be his luck.  "I - no.  It's not for school.  It's-  I've got to go the Ministry.  With, you know, everyone that got ... back in March?"  Another restless fidget and Sasha shook his head, finding himself suddenly restless and wanting to be out of the house.  "I - do you want to take a walk?" he asked, nodding towards the back door. 

Having not really noticed the flinch, Tapendra smiled, though it was almost a smirk. "We'll see. Ignan is a tough teacher," he said, his tone a kind of friendly goading. He'd had a bruise on the top of his head for a few days after that Legilimency lesson, and a headache for several hours. "Though if you manage to pull an O out of him, you'll have no worries about OWLs," he said, with a short laugh.

"Probably a good choice, I think the only thing you'd learn from me in that respect is some interesting language," he said, as someone who was used to cursing loudly when in pain. He finished off his tea, walking to the sink to wash the mug as Sasha spoke.

"A-Levels...yes, that was one of the things I wanted to talk to you about, career counselling-wise," he said, smiling over his shoulder as he rinsed the cup.

He nearly dropped it, though, when Sasha mentioned the attacks. Fumbling with the slippery cup hid his shocked expression, and once he got it under control he looked at Sasha with unmasked surprise.

"You were bitten, or...?" He asked in confusion, nodding mutely to the request to go outside. He padded to the door, head down and lip bitten as he thought. He couldn't have been bitten, he'd have been injured at the tutoring session Ignan had brought Tapendra along to, so a scratch then? Still a concern and with the Direwolves...

He held the door open for Sasha. "Who's taking you there?" he asked.

"I don't know," Sasha offered with his own grin.  "I haven't gotten the O yet.  Don't count your owls before their- nevermind."  Sasha had no idea if that was a real saying.  Chances were it wasn't.  It was kind of stupid, after all.  Stupid enough it wasn't worth finishing.  "I think I could have survived the interesting language.  I'm trilingual in colorful language, after all.  I don't really use it but I know it." 

Sasha was glad Professor Trishna had agreed to going outside.  Opening the door and waiting for Baldur to lope outside into the gardens was a nice distraction from the surprised expression on the man's face.  And, it meant Sasha could realistically and politely look elsewhere.  He stooped down and picked up a stray tennis ball and chucked it over towards the edge - across three planting beds.  Baldur took off, weaving through the gravel pathways in pursuit of the ball. 

"I- I don't think so," Sasha said, quietly, his voice shaking slightly.  He wouldn't really know until Thursday, anyway.  Right?  "I mean.  I don't ... I don't remember being bitten exactly.  I - but ... she land on top of me.  And, there was a lot of blood.  And, I think Baldur drew some blood, too, when he attacked.  Their fairly certain I wasn't ... I'm not ..."  Before Sasha's mind could spiral too far down that thought, Baldur came loping up, tennis ball in mouth.  Sasha took the ball from the dog's mouth and chucked it again. 

Sasha shrugged and folded his arms across his abdomen.  "The Tube," Sasha admitted.  "But, I'm taking him with me.  If they won't let me in with him, I'm not staying." 

Standing a little bit behind Sasha, Tapendra looked at the back of the boy's head, frowning. "I'm sorry. I didn't know," he said, rubbing one of his forearms. "A...friend of mine got attacked, so I was focussed on her, and the school was attacked..." It was a weak excuse and he knew it. At least the boy seemed physically alright, now, but mentally...

"Do you want me to take you?" He asked, watching Baldur. "I don't know how much clout I'll have as a Professor,but it might be worth a try." If anything, he could sit outside the cell with the dog - it was better than nothing. "It'd certainly be safer than trying to go through that part of town alone after dark," he added.

Sasha shrugged and, after tossing the tennis ball for the third time, turned back towards Professor Trishna. "It's not your fault," he insisted, quickly, shaking his head and then looking down at the ground.  He took a deep breath and sat down on a stone bench.  Somewhere behind him, in the foliage, water trickled over rocks.  "I didn't exactly tell anyone.  At least, not until the next day.  Penicillin wasn't doing much - it might have even been making it worse, I don't know.  I was embarrassed and ... well ... didn't want to be too much trouble for Dreogan.  So, I tried to handle it myself." 

Of course, the plan had backfired.  Most of his seemed to.  He gently hitched up the bottom of his shirt, exposing the cluster of still-angry scars lined across his abdomen where Olivia - the werewolf - had dug her claws into him and had tried hold on, even as Baldur had dragged the beast off of him. 

"But, I know others got hurt.  It's alright," he insisted, again, smoothing his shirt back down as he took the ball from the dog once more, rolling it distractedly in his hands. 

Sasha glanced up, surprised by the professor's offer.  "What?  Take me to the Ministry?" he asked, unsure about the idea.  After all, what if things didn't go according to plan?  What if ... what if he ran into Fauna?  Or he was wrong and he was contaminated?  And, what if Sasha accepted his help and he had been turned or something else came up and a few months down the line he decided to move on with his own life, too?  "I don't, you know, really know what's going to happen.  I doubt it'll be fun.  I don't think, you know, I'll be really pleasant - I don't ... really know.  What if I am, you know, cursed.  I don't want to be guilty for anything else."

Actually, he did know.  He just couldn't say.  He had already realized he couldn't stay in this house alone that night.  Once he was clear of the Ministry, he'd be using his portkey and going to stay with Kronos.  He'd be safe there.  He knew he could trust in that. 

"It's okay if you don't want to, but..." He looked back at the house again and sighed. "Look - can I be frank?" He rubbed her forearm again. "I'd prefer you weren't alone that night at all. Not just because this place is possibly vulnerable, but..."

Well, he had said he was going to be frank. "Look, you've been through a lot since this last year, Sasha. I've been through similar issue, though not...not this bad. I didn't deal with it well." He'd nearly taken a man's head off with a shotgun, though honestly he considered that a fairly good reaction. "You're a very strong person to do as well as you are, you know? But I'd prefer if you didn't go through all this on your own. I know that probably seems invasive, but I can't really stand the thought of it."

He smiled, slightly. "I've been friends, and am friends, with far worse than werewolves, Sasha, and those were what most people would call normal people. If you are a werewolf, well..." He shrugged, as nonchalantly as he could; the boy's marks definitely made that a possibility. They were far worse than the scratch he'd thought it had been. "Then that's something to cope with. I certainly wouldn't leave you to deal with that on your own, if at all possible."