How to Save a Life

Tre paced back and forth in front of the entrance to the Highmaster's office. He had never set foot in the man's office before, and he had never planned to. His worry trumped any feelings of apprehension he had. He needed advice, and... well... Ciar seemed to trust the man enough - in fact, he distinctly remembered her telling him that she trusted no man more - so he supposed he might as well... give this a shot?

His golden gaze slid over the door again, a frown marring his lips. He had to get this over with soon, before Ash woke from her nap. He couldn't leave her to wake up alone. She had a near panic attack if she woke facing away from him...

With a determined sigh, the half Angel moved forward and knocked thrice upon the door.

Sacha set aside a stack of completed paperwork. So, the boy pacing at his door had finally decided to knock. He had wondered how long it might be.

"Enter," he beckoned, leaning back in his chair as he waited for the boy to enter. Grey eyes placidly took in the boy. He was close to the D'Angelo girl, he was aware, and had connections to the Popovs.

"Welcome, Mr. Beneparte, do be seated," Sacha invited, motioning toward the chairs opposite his desk. "How might I assist you this afternoon?"

Tre stepped into the room, his golden eyes flicking over the entire space before he moved forward, taking the indicated seat. "Thank you, sir." He said looking down at his hands, the fringe of his hair falling into his eyes. "I need- would like- I mean..." His shoulders hunched, as his mind went haywire. He had been so focused on actually getting here... what had he wanted? He'd needed to ask...

He couldn't help checking his watch. Ash had been asleep for two hours. She'd be awake soon. He had to get back to her. As soon as possible. Meaning this meeting had to be brief. Had to be...

But why was he here? Why was he...?

"It's Ash." That much he was sure. "I need..." He swallowed softly, searching through his mind for how to phrase it. How to...

"There is absolutely no one I trust more in this school than the Highmaster, Shawn." Cia's voice was clear in his mind. The only clear thing, other than the growing desire to run toward the Room of Necessity. "If you've got a problem, that's where I'd take it."

"Advice."

Sacha calmly waited as the boy voiced his request, apparently having some difficultly figuring out he wished to word it. Whatever the boy was in probably wasn't helping matters, either. Part of it, Sacha was certain, was also his position and the mere fact that he was an adult.

"Ah, yes," Sacha acknowledged when the boy finally finished speaking. "Miss D'Angelo has been having a rather difficult time. What sort of advice is it that you seek, Mr. Beneparte?"

"I don't mean to act like I doubt the safety of your school, I don't, but-" His golden eyes flickered over the interior of the office, suddenly wary. "It's just-" His hands had begun to fidget, playing with the hem of his shirt in nervousness. "I want to know if you have any ways of making her feel... safer, I mean. Techniques." He shifted slightly in his seat, eyes decidedly downcast. He should probably leave. If his father, or her father, or Inno's father, caught wind that he had been in here, he was so far gone that Ash's safety would be the least of his worries.

"I don't know how to take care of her." He murmured finally, the words soft, almost like he hadn't said them at all. "And I thought- maybe - you'd know how."

"Well, as far as the safety of this school is concerned, Mr. Beneparte, Durmstrang Isle is one of the most heavily fortified and secure places to be found. The only breach we've had in centuries was the Crow, which turned out to be a misguided and overzealous defensive construct," Sacha told the boy.

"Leave it to the Brits to mess up something so straight-forward," he added with an amused scoff.

The man leaned forward to rest his elbows on his desk, steepling his hands in front of him as his placid gaze met the boy's. "I realize, of course, that knowing a place is safe and feeling safe are two very disparate matters. For that, I fear I must give you a most unsatisfactory answer.

"You can only do your best for Miss D'Angelo," Sacha said. "Should that prove insufficient, then seek to better your own capabilities. Failing that..." The man trailed off, lips setting into a grim line.

"Don't fail, Mr. Beneparte," the man advised, "because the moment you can't protect her, that you can no longer care for her, is the moment she is better off without you. And then, you must live without her."