"Maybe she's not home," Sasha said, glancing down at Abby with a little too much eagerness to his tone.  He turned to head back down the path.

Of course, it was also just as likely that it took Neely or Neely's family more than two seconds to answer the door. But, as his nerves continued to build, those two seconds seemed to drag into two minutes.  He was certain this was an absolutely fruitless endeavor.  He still had no idea what he was going to say to Neely.  He had no idea what he had a right to say. 

Really, at this point, Neely could open the door, slap Sasha in the face and he'd consider it a step in the right direction.

Sasha looked down at the package[1]in his hand and back up at Abby.  He'd purchased the small porcelain box from the Dresden porcelain company back over the summer with the intent of giving it to Neely as a Christmas present.  That had been back when they'd been pretend dating and, in hindsight, everything seemed ... normal.  So much had changed since then.  Along with so many other things, the opportunity to give it to her had never arisen.  Perhaps giving it to her now was inappropriate.  Or stupid.  But, he had no use for it. 

"Maybe I could just leave it and she can find it when she gets home.  I ... we ... this was probably a bad idea." 

1.

Gift

The drive had gone well. They hadn't crashed into other cars, gotten lost, or damaged their eardrums with her singing. Now Abby and Sasha stood on the front porch of Neely's home, with Sasha edging away and coming up with excuses, and Abby with one finger poised over the door bell, standing on her tiptoes to try to peer into the peephole.

"Hello!" She called out cheerfully, making up for Sasha's reluctance and her own nerves with an overabundance of confidence. To Sasha, she might have just seemed a little more hyper at the moment.

"I see you inching away!" She warned him without looking at him. "You have to give her more than two seconds to get to the door, silly! She could be doing something important, like reading the latest Witch Weekly or lounging in a pool." Abby was serious. Those were important things to do over the spring holiday!

"You're going to give her the gift, and she will love it, and we will all be lovely," Abby stated, tossing a grin at Sasha over her shoulder.

Neely peered through the telescopic contraption in the wall beside the door. Though no describable pipes, kaleidoscope looking glasses, or mirrors connected the spy hole with the handsome one set in the door outside (nor its hidden brother, in a shrub to the left), she could see them plain as day: Abby Reid, with her pretty blonde locks spilling all about her, that giggling, girly air, and a word of advice that made Neely's heart stir in thanks.

And Sasha. Sasha Schlagenweit was standing in front of her house. Knocking on the door. Waiting for Neely to come out and say hi. (Unless he'd meant to pay a visit to Demetrius, in which case he was sorely confused. The hovel Demetri called a house was hardly fit for half of Neely's shoe collection.)

Giddy but determined to appear cool, Neely backed away from the spy glass. There were others dotting the wall above and below hers, made for the eyes of her mother and father, or the team of elves who managed the Woolfolk household.

"Peri," she whispered loudly, slightly frantic. "Open the door! But not too fast. Be casual. Casual," she emphasized. She was not lecturing Periwinkle so much as reassuring herself. If any of the elves could follow Neely-sized orders, it was the seasoned veteran with the pastel namesake.

Neely looked down at her dress and frowned. She wasn't wearing shoes. Scrambingling up the stairs, she looked over her shoulder but once to nod and give the go-ahead. The chain of command began to unravel, and Periwinkle reached for the door, bowing as she invited in the guests. Neely disappeared on the top landing and scurried to her room, hearing from the foyer below the now familiar greeting: "Please come in, Miss Abby and Mr. Sasha. Miss Cornelia will be with you shortly."

As the elf offered garden-side seats and drinks to her guests in the back of the house, Neely found her shoes, strapped them on, and hurried back down the stairs, slowing to an aloof, supermodel saunter. "Oh my golly Godric, what are you doing in my-- in the neighborhood?" She asked, looking from Abby to Sasha. It was much easier to stare at the former, to offer a cheery smile without faltering or tripping over her words. Sasha she hadn't spoken to in ages, least of all because he'd been absent from school for so long. "Shopping?" It was a safe topic for conversation.
 
Biting her lip, Neely wondered how they had found her house, or whether Abby had had to drag him here. But she was too shocked-- and too not-so-secretly thrilled-- to guess much beyond the fact that Abby had done one better than getting the pair of them to communicate via owl. She'd brought Sasha to Neely's house. Surely it was for some sort of peace-making. She'd heard something about gifts and making everything lovely. But she didn't want to spoil the surprise. That wouldn't be very memorable or ladylike.

"Do you want something else to drink?" She looked at their iced hot cocoas, and the stack of magazines on the table between them. Witch Weekly, Teen Witch, and Magic Mode were among the titles, along with a handful of Runway Witch's stacked by season. "I..." She caught Abby's eye, stared at her knowingly, and then refocused in Sasha's direction, feeling unsure again. "How has... your... thing been?" Internship, was that what it was now? She might have been expert on Hogwarts rumors, but they were hard to come by or else over-saturated where Sasha was concerned. And Neely couldn't afford to be picky when she was supposed Not Speaking to the Ravenclaw.

None of the things she really wanted to say would come out just yet: I'm sorry about your family. I miss talking to you. I studying with you. I miss you. They were about as likely to make him choke as they were her.

So, instead: "Ooooh, Abby, have you found your Easter hat yet?" Her eyes went wide with delight as she stared at the blonde girl again. Theirs was a culture that had little to do with muggle religious rituals, and much more to do with the vague, leftover pagan rituals the holiday implied. But Easter, like Christmas, was a highlight even for Pureblood children. It was a material holiday, fully of pretty pastels, springy hills of chocolate, and adorable little baby rabbits.

"I'm not inching away!" Sasha insisted, hoping his step back up onto the doorstep wasn't too obvious.  "I was just ... shifting.  Or running."  But, he hadn't been inching. 

By now, bizarre girl-oriented comments like 'the importance of reading Witch Weekly' or lounging simply didn't phase him anymore.  Perhaps, that was a sign of his growing fluency in the language of teenaged girls.  What a bizarre thought. 

Sasha gave Abby a dubious, disbelieving look as he slowly shook his head.  She was seeming a bit too overly optimistic about this whole endeavor.  But, then, she was Abby.  "Woah," Sasha breathed in fascination as, the door was swung open by an invisible hand.  Or, a really short elf if one weren't looking for someone human-height.  Strange wizard homes.  "Um...Allo," Sasha offered the elf in return.  Baldur's ears bolted straight up at the sight of the elf and he stretched his neck out to sniff in its direction.

Luckily Neely wasn't actually there to notice his or his dog's ... confusion.  He'd seen elves around school but never one in a family home.  Were they just like butlers?  Was he supposed to give the little creature his coat?  He decided against it, if for no other reason than the coat completed his current outfit.  He followed Abby to one of the seats and sat gingerly on the edge of his, watching (because he wasn't sure where else to look) as Abby's attention was captured by the stack of magazines. 
"I don't ... really think much about nail polish," Sasha was trying to offer as politely as he could when Abby showed him ... was it an ad?  An article?  Random pictures?  Oddly enough, like his sister's magazines, it was hard to tell the difference. 


Neely arrived, looking as confident as she usually did.  Sasha cast a quick, uncertain glance in Abby's direction before pushing himself to his feet.  "Allo."  He strategically left the explanation of what they were doing - in Neely's neighborhood to Abby.  This had been her idea.  She could explain the whys.  And hows.  Shopping, though, hadn't been the reason.  Unless that was some sort of girl talk that had some secret hidden meaning.  Like 'I'm fine' really meant 'I'm livid at you and how dare you ask since you should have known.' 

Neely was looking at Abby - probably exchanging some sort of girl mind-communication and Sasha picked at some non-existent lint on his blazer.  Neely was speaking to him.  About his ... thing.  His ... well, non-suspension suspension.  Okay.  He didn't know what to call it, either.  "I - it's good.  I guess.  I didn't really want to go but -"  He shrugged.  "I'm back home, now.  And, taking classes and catching up.  I might be going back next month, though."  Next month seemed like it was ages away. 

The conversation turned to Abby and Sasha looked towards the squib, again. 

Abby would never tell Sasha this, but she'd worried that Neely would open the door, take one look at them, feel betrayed, and slam it in their faces. And Abby really wouldn't have been able to blame her. Popping over without warning, a Schlawkward in tow, got points for spontaneity but zero points for Slytherin-esque super stealth. The truth was, Neely and Sasha had become Abby's best friends, and picking sides was just not going to work for her anymore. All she could do was hope this impromptu visit went well.

And it did! Or at least, it started that way! The house elves let them in, Abby chattered to Sasha about magazines to hide her nerves, and Neely found them at the back of the house, all smiles and pretty shoes.

"We wanted to see you!" Abby said cheerily, nudging Sasha's arm as relief swept through her. As Sasha picked at his clothing and Neely shot her several uncertain looks, Abby flipped through Witch Weekly and sipped at iced cocoa, half-listening to their talk about Sasha's internship.

"My Easter hat?" She giggled, both delighted and amused by Neely's enthusiasm. "No, I think Aileen is putting it off till later in the week. I keep hinting at bringing home a bunny and she gets this alarmed look on her face," more giggling. "We'll probably leave egg-notes for each other around the house." By that, she meant little messages written on colorful eggs. "I'll send one to you! And you, Sasha," she told her friends. "It'll be like a little gift."

Hint hint!

"Neely, may I use your loo? I'm sure my hair is all windblown," she gestured at her locks, which were indeed a bit messy from the drive, and hopped up from her seat. Abby widened her eyes at Sasha, wondering where he'd hidden his gift, and really hoping he would pick this time to hand it to Neely.

Or it was going to be a very long loo break.

"Allo."

“Hi,” she said smally, awkwardly, feeling the weight of the exchange and echoing his Sasha-esque greeting with her own rather Neely-has-found-the-point sort-- despite having already bombarded the pair of them with questions.

She nodded, pretending to understand. He didn’t want to go, but he’d gone... well, she supposed it made sense. But he’d been gone, and then he wasn’t, and then he was. It was hard to keep up with! “What sort of classes?” She asked, tilting her head. “You aren’t trying to sit your exams early and enroll in the acting school, are you?!” She hadn’t pegged Sasha as an actor, but imaging a post-secondary school run by wizards was much easier than imagining the sort of he’d been pretending to go to-- even if Neely had more details about that one than even she’d have liked. Something about fake girlfriends... “Oooh, Sahsa, you’ll have to let me style you if you get famous and you’re put on the cover of a playbill. Or Witch Weekly!” It was a logical leap. And didn’t he owe it to her?!

Well...

"We wanted to see you!"

She turned to Abby, pleased as a pumpkin pasty. She threw an arm around the girl’s neck and leaned in to kiss her cheeks, giggling with the youngest Reid in the way only a pair of teenage girls could giggle. Like ‘shoe,’ it was a private language. Things were mentioned-- hats, holidays, adorable little bunnies, but the words, while important, weren’t what made Neely smile.

She raised eyebrows. “You aren’t going to scare her with a bunch of rabbits, are you?” She asked, mouth forming an o. The word ‘scandalous,’ much against the grain of popular belief, did not begin with an ‘s.’ No, it was that little o on Neely’s face that represented the word where other letters could not. “But I bet she’d learn to love them. Bunnies are sooo cute. Especially the ones with spots. Maybe name one for her, and she’ll be pleased?” She suggested wisely.

Neely would never turn down a package, especially not from a friend. She’d have to find something chic to send Abby’s way, of course.

“Hmm?” She blinked, looking at the other girl’s pretty, and then someone seemed to whisper lumos in her mind. “Oh! Yes. Yes, Peri will show you the way. Peri-- lead her to my lavatory.” It was on a higher floor, and would give Abby more time to linger inside and admire Neely’s bedroom. She’d forgotten to hide some of her teddy bears and things, but she didn’t think Abby would tell anyone.

For all her social smoothness, Neely was still a girl. Where once she might have chattered inanely in front of the Ravenclaw, she now felt a tugging at her heartstrings and a weirdness that she was sure was communicable-- he must have given it to her! Left alone with Sasha, she could only say once more: “Hi.”

But then Cashmere popped up out of nowhere, weaving between Neely's legs, mewing. The cat made for Sasha, its fur standing up as if by static electricity as it hissed at the giant dog looming behind him. Between Sasha standing on her front door step-- now in her garden-- and Abby's like-minded love of girlish conversation, she'd almost forgotten. One of the elves who had been left to tend the general area while Neely's friends were visiting could hardly blink. He held a pair of leaf trimmers in his tiny hands and shuffled back half a step, nearly landing in a potted plant. "Ooooh, golly, he's almost as big as your horses!" She'd met the dog, to be sure, but upon traversing Sasha's property, she'd been intrigued by the horses and ponies and trying not to fall out of a saddle or get kicked while hiding behind stacks of hay. She moved forward, almost timidly, and held out an arm to the dog.

Closer to Sasha now, she looked up at him as if she might turn into a Legilimens if she tried hard enough. "Do you want a tour? Do you want to go swimming?" She had no horses and could not offer to take him on a ride through Chelsea. Nor could her father have built a stable in the little garden ,no matter how profusely Neely cried. "I could find us some lunch. You could tell me more about your classes..." That seemed a safe topic. Neely knew if she started interrogating him, she might scare him straight out of her house, and he'd only just arrived. It had been such a surprise! So Neely asked everything but what she really meant to ask.

Acting school?  "I ... no," Sasha offered simply and awkwardly as he shook his head.  There was no shortage of career options - trying to narrow down his choices was one of his current plagues.  But, acting had never really even tried to find a place on the list.  Sasha nodded, lamely, when the squib nudged him (and, perhaps, it inadvertently coincided with Neely's insistence of being able to style him when- or, if, he became famous), having moved on from picking at lint to uncoiling and recoiling the dog's leash in his hand as the girls exchanged more girlie pleasantries.  Hopefully, Neely wasn't expecting him to do the same giggly, arm-flinging routine.  That, after all, was what the leash was for - to show that his hands were quite thoroughly occupied. 

He had wanted to see Neely and, yes, that was why he ... they were here.  And, it was quite smart of Abby to think of pointing that out.  But, after a few pleasant comments about Easter, Abby scurried off to Neely's washroom, leaving Sasha staring awkwardly at whatever he could find to look at.  The word 'gift' lingered in the air in the squib's wake and, motivated by this distinct behavioral goal, Sasha's hands freed themselves from the shepherd's leash and he patted at his pockets. 

Another awkward 'hi' from Neely met an equally awkward 'allo,' sequel from Sasha.  Before the pair of greetings could turn into a trilogy, Cashmere made an appearance, catching both dog and owner's attention.  Baldur lifted his head and turned his nose in the feline's direction, his nostrils flexing as he sniffed in the cat's (and the elf's) direction before turning towards Neely, in anticipation of attention when the girl moved towards him. 

"I ... sure.  A tour would be nice.  You've seen my house, after all.  At least, the outside of it."  Or, the barn.  "I ... but ... a swim?"  He cast a quick glance down at his carefully chosen attire and looked back up.  "Or, lunch.  Or, I mean - if it isn't too much trouble.  I didn't really ... I don't mean to intrude too much.  I just wanted to ..."  Here he was, again.  What had he intended for this little soiree?  The gift.  Yes, the gift.  That was a safe starting point.  He fumbled, again, with his pockets and pulled out the small wrapped box and held it out to Neely. 

"I got this for you last summer when I was down in Germany with ... you know, ... for the summer holidays.  I'd meant to give it to you for Christmas, but I ..."  He hadn't been able to.  It hadn't been the right time.  He hadn't had an opportunity and, by the time Sasha had seen Neely again, Fergie had planted himself firmly in Sasha's life at Dreogan's.  There'd been so many excuses and none of them seemed sufficient, now.  But, what had seemed like such a minor thing then had gradually grown simultaneously more confusing and more significant and it just seemed to force that opportunity he'd been searching for further and further away. 

"I'm sorry," he finally offered.  "I hadn't intended and hadn't wanted you to get hurt in anything that ... that happened.  And, I know that doesn't make it any better but ... had I known ..."  How many Divination classes had he sat through?  And Neely?  Couldn't at least one of them have offered some sort of warning? 

Sasha shrugged.  "I just ... that's really what I wanted to say.  That I'm really sorry.  And, I mean, we can stay for lunch or a tour or-"  Again, he hadn't really been planning on swimming.  "Or, Abby can stay, if you'd rather ... if you want me to go."