It is approximately 10pm, and the evening's events since the trouble in the Great Hall had made all of Hufflepuff very weary.  Our scene plays out in the boy's bathroom.[1]

Figaro let out a mighty sigh, and the lad, he trudged.  Hufflepuff House was grimly quiet tonight.  Not the usual chatter from the Commonroom, or the quick comings-and-goings to get business done before curfew.  Instead, everyone seemed to be laden with a thick blanket of awkward.  It wasn't worth thinking about the aftermath of the fight, especially since it was probably only the beginning.

All Figaro could really do was try and find some peace and quiet, some bastian against the total complete horrid awkwad that would be the sixth year boys' bunk tonight.  And likely many nights to come.  Figaro had more or less announced to the entire school (and the other three) what Zel Trumble had told him in confidence.  Total to-your-grave secret.  Figaro had never, ever felt more like the idiot he'd often been accused of being, never more in his life.  He just couldn't believe that he'd been so ... stupid - was all he could think of.  He hadn't thought.  He'd just said exactly what he was thinking.

So tonight, his nose wasn't the only thing that was smarting as he entered the empty boys' bathroom with a pillow and blanket.  He was making for the tub, a suitable place to avoid the awkward, at least for the night.  They weren't generally allowed to sleep in the commonroom, so there wasn't any better place.

He dropped his bedding into the dry, claw-footed tub.  Then he went over to the mirror to inspect his nose again.  Madam Nagde had mended it, but it still smarted and he could swear it was crooked now.

1.	Secrets, Scars & Wild Hairs

It had been a long, rough day for the werewolf. He did not look forward to returning to the common room, but it was inevitable. Zel was not ready to face his roommates—one of them had spilled his biggest secret to the entire school, and the other had punched him in the face. Granted, it was after Zel himself had kicked Figaro in the gut. However, that didn’t exactly make him feel welcome in his own house. Undoubtedly, the staff was unhappy with the way everybody conducted themselves in the situation—but there wasn’t much Zel could do now, during the aftermath.

He only entered his dorm to grab a pillow and a blanket off of his bed. Zel wondered about the different places he could sleep in order to avoid Seto and Figaro that night. The only solution he could think of was the bathroom. He winced at the thought of trying to squeeze into the bathtub in a comfortable manner. During baths, it was fine—but to sleep in? He was so long and gangly that he would be cramped up and sleeping with his head on his knees.

It was better than nothing.

The Hufflepuff made his way into the bathroom, and closed the door behind him. Without looking, Zel threw his pillow in the general direction of the bathtub. It didn’t take more than a couple seconds for him to realize that Figaro had also been looking for a different place to stay. Zel’s face turned bright red, before suddenly paling—this, this was the most awkward of situations.

“… Oh, you’re in here?” Zel asked, and for once he did not stutter. However, there was something off about his tone—something empty, serious, and deeply un-Zel-like.

Figaro turned.  The door had opened and shut behind him, and when he saw who'd come in, it was the absolute last person he wanted to face.  Figaro flushed and his face dropped. 

"I uh... Yeah, I was going to crash ... Okay looks like you were going to... "

Figaro really wanted to say something about what had happened, but he had no idea where to start.  Also thing about it kind of made him feel like a total arsehole.  Zel hadn't deserved to be full-mooned in front of the whole school, have his trust betrayed... But was there nowhere he could go - just for the night - where he didn't have to stand face to face with the symbol of his abject screw- uppery?

He was staring and looked from Zel to Zel's pillows and back to Zel.  "You can have the dorm... I should... Erm..."

He shook his head. He could hardly believe that he ran into Figaro now, of all times. Granted, he understood that the fellow Hufflepuff also did not want to deal with any form of confrontation, and Zel also felt tired of it. He knew that the backlash was going to come soon, and it probably wasn’t best if he aggravated it by being a complete jerk towards Figaro. Zel didn’t even feel angry anymore, just hurt and exhausted.

“It’s okay. I don’t think I woul-I would have fit in the bathtub anyway.” Zel gave Figaro a weak smile, it was really a feeble attempt at a joke. He ran his fingers through his hair nervously, and then clasped his hands together. “Seto’s in the dorms so...” He didn’t really feel like facing both Fig and Seto at the same time-- after all, one of them had outed his lycanthropy, and the other one punched him in the jaw. Zel gave Figaro a little awkward shrug and then looked down at his feet.

This was certainly an uncomfortable situation, to say the least. “Seto’s your friend, it’ll be okay if you sleep up there tonight.” He so wanted to ask Figaro why he thought it was such a bloody good idea to blab during dinner, of all times.

Figaro was kind of surprised that Zel was trying to be nice to him. That really sucked.  If the roles were reversed, he might have told himself to clear out if he didn't want another knee to the gut.  Figaro frowned and quickly tried to smile again.  It turned into a twitchy bit of face transfiguration. 

He shrugged.  "Right.  Whatever you want."  He made an accommodating gesture. It made sense.  Figaro and Seto was probably the least awkward pairing.  The wolf and the cabbage of this riddle.  (That made ... Zel the goat, and Seto... the cabbage...? Wouldn't Zel be the would, though... )  Figaro shook his head.  Whatever. 

Fig puffed up his cheeks and let the air out in a huff.  "Erm..." he shouldn't say it.  "We're still your friends, too.  I mean, what you said about Seto and me.  You're our friend even though..., well at least from my end."

That did not come out making any sense.  "Look, I'm sorry."

He made a move towards the tub, around Zel to get his blanket.

Zel stared at Figaro, unsure of what to say, or what to do. He knew that he wasn’t harboring any feelings of anger or resentment towards the other Hufflepuff, but the trust he had in his roommates had certainly been damaged. He could tell the other boy was uncomfortable, what with the strange facial spasms and mild awkwardness. He related to that feeling all too well, and very nearly sympathized with him.

“I’m not mad at you. Just disappointed.” He clarified. No, he was mad at himself, and he was mad at the situation—he did not trust SAWS as a club, though he had been wary about the club to begin with.  “Sorry I kicked you in the gut.” Zel was sorry that he caused Figaro some physical harm, and although he wasn’t angry, part of him still didn’t quite forgive the loudmouth. He wanted to do something that would cause mild annoyance and confusion, but nothing that would be intentionally physically harmful.  He wanted to treat Figaro to some weird form of revenge.  Zel didn’t know exactly what to do, but he knew now was his chance to do it.

The corner of his mouth twitched when he saw the blanket that his roommate was reaching for. Zel knew this was going to be strange.

He also knew it would take his mind off the situation, and it would bring him some strange, twisted amusement.

“Please forgive me for what I am about to do.” Zel stated, and his eyes darted towards the bathtub. 

The werewolf grabbed the blanket and threw it over Figaro, and then tackled the boy—struggling to roll him around until the blanket was completely twisted around the other boy’s body like some sort of strange lumpy burrito[1]. Once completed, he was slightly out of breath, entertained, and at the same time completely shocked with himself.
 

1.	With permission

Fig was all but ready to grab his stuff and head up to the dorm and crawl into bed, even though he knew no one was going to sleep at all.  But suddenly the tall, pale ghost of a Hufflepuff was in motion and afghans were flying.

"What the hell!"  Figaro didn't have much time to react.  The blanket and Zel's long arms were pretty effective on the weary lad, caught by surprise.  "What are you doing?" he hissed, not about to get in more trouble by causing some ruckus. 

Figaro elbowed and pushed back, but not much.  He was pretty damn confused about what the hell Zel was trying to do.  He dropped to the tile with a thump, his arms pinned against his body.  He shook his head so that the corner of the blanket fell away and he could see.

He looked up at his housemate with a very skeptical, concerned look on his face.  "What is this?" he asked slowly.

Zel stood there in shock, unsure of what exactly he had just done, and uncertain as to why exactly he did this. He brought his hand up to his face and let out an exasperated groan before slumping down onto the floor next to Figaro. He tilted his head downwards so he could look at the Hufflepuff in the eye. “I-I guess it was revenge? I didn’t want to hurt you.” He shrugged, and looked at his feet.

He felt a sharp contraction in his chest, and he buried his face in his knees. His shoulders began to tremble, and soon after, his whole body was shaking. Then it happened—Zel laughed. A gentle, hollow, mirthless laugh. It was the sort of laugh that coursed through his entire self. Though it was far from happy, the release of emotion was somewhat cathartic, though at the same time it made him feel like he was losing his mind.

When he regained his composure, he looked back over at the boy questioningly. “Figaro—there is so much wrong with this bloody situation. I—I still can’t comprehend why you let it slip. I know you don’t care that I’m a werewolf. But… What kept you from keeping it a secret?”

Was this what being the first victim of a serial killer felt like? Death by duvet?  Zel's eerie and strangely-timed laughter unnerved Figaro who, when Zel finally looked at him, was wearing a look of 'you-have-gone-completely-mad'.

Sitting like he was, on the tails of his own blanket, he'd have to get to his feet to get up.  He was, for the moment, awkwardly captive. 

"Good job," he mumbled when Zel told him this was his attempt at revenge.  He could have done much worse.  And Figaro wouldn't have blamed him. 

He sighed, keeping a wary eye on the strange young wizard who he realized he didn't know at all.

"It was an accident," he said with a constricted burrito-shrug.  "I had kept the secret for weeks.  Not since you told.  I just got used to the idea.  Forgot it was a thing." 

An accident. That was all Figaro could say?

‘Accidents happen’ wasn’t exactly a comforting thought. It certainly did not make Zel feel better about the situation. He didn’t want to let Figaro leave, unless the boy gave him an answer that Zel thought was satisfactory. “I’m sorry I have to do this.” He said sternly, “But that answer just…” Zel sighed, “It’s not acceptable, Fig.”  The werewolf scooted over and sat on top of Figaro in an attempt to trap him.

“I just—I don’t understand. I can’t comprehend how you simply ‘forgot.’ It’d be different if it was something small, but it wasn’t.” Zel shook his head, “It was pretty bloody big.”

Figaro grunted as Zel sat on him.  What the-!

"Zel..!" Figaro protested, but Zel was monologuing awkwardly.  This was some kind of strange, bathroom burrito interrogation, it turned out.  Was this his life now? Answering the same mournful question over and over in compromising situations until the end of his days?

Frustrated, Figaro responded trying to shift so that Zel's bulk wasn't pressing on major arteries.  He had a very bony backend. 

"I don't know, mate! I don't havea better answer.  I didn't think.  That's the answer.  It just came out.  Get off, please."

This was getting ridiculous.  If it had been Erin Harper or Callum Knight, or even a Fayette, Figaro might have put up more of a struggle, but it was Zel and in this case? He kind of deserved it.   Didn't make it not awkward though. 

Zel almost felt sorry for the guy, being all bundled up in a blanket and sat on to prevent an escape. At the same time though, Figaro was not telling Zel what he needed to hear—the answers that he was giving were not enough. Simply not thinking wasn’t good enough. There had to be reasons why Figaro wasn’t thinking, and he wanted to know. No, he needed to know.

“Yes, yes. I know you weren’t thinking. I’m not going to get off until you give me a better answer!” Zel snapped, and then quickly composed himself. “Sorry- Sorry. It’s j-just…” He began to twiddle his thumbs, trying to think of a way to put his thoughts into the right words, “I just… I don’t understand how you can let something like that slip. Why weren’t you thinking? What made it so unimportant to you?”

He let out an exasperated sigh. At this rate, Zel did not expect Figaro to give him a proper answer. He wasn't even sure how the boy got placed into Hufflepuff with how careless he was when it came to the  secrets of others.

Figaro also let out an exasperated sigh.  He was dreading that someone would walk in on them because that was the worst thing that could happen right now.  He just wanted to get this poor kid up off him so they could both disappear into a Vanishing Cabinet until after NEWTs.

"I told you," he insisted, his tone becoming less and less penitent.  "I. Don't. Know.  Alright? I don't bloody know.  What do you want me to say?  That I did it on purpose because I don't like you? I didn't! It just came out! It was in my head and then it was out and I'm sorry.  Please, get the hell off.  This is well strange!"

He wriggled with vigor, trying to give Zel a physical cue that this wasn't cute anymore.

The longer this conversation went on, the more frustrated the Hufflepuff became. “I know it’s not that you dislike me!” Zel exclaimed, raising his voice slightly. “It’s—it’s not that. I know you weren’t trying to. I know it was an accident, I’m not bloody stupid.” He shifted his weight slightly, though he did not get off—the werewolf would not let Figaro be free until the answer was satisfactory.

“I just… Wh-what I want to know, is why you were so okay with blurting it out. Why you weren’t able to think. There has to be a reason. You’re not a complete git. You knew what would happen, that’s why you agreed to keep it a secret in the first place. I'm not getting off until I get a proper answer. A real answer.” This conversation was probably one of the longest that Zel and Figaro had ever had, and it was some sort of strange interrogation.

Many things had happened since dinner though Heliotrope did not notice most of them. The fighting was bad, there was some sort of big argument that made Hufflepuff turn on Hufflepuff. All she knew was that her feet felt better free from her too tight shoes. She still walked gingerly.

It was bedtime. Heliotrope was mostly dressed out of uniform, nothing but her undershirt and loose tie over her one piece. Unknowingly she was about to do something highly unusual. Whether it was the the element of moral judgements being left for the girls when heading to the boy section of a dorm, or the castle somehow recognizing that the boys within we're decent though one was bound in a blanket, or the bathroms of Hogwarts having little protection in general...when Heliotrope found the girls bathroom unsatisfactory she was able to push the door into the boys bathroom.

Inside was Zel sitting on a rolled blanket with Figaro's head sticking out. The half-mer was unperturbed by the arrangement as she was set to one task.

"The water will not come out of the pipes in the other bathroom," she said, as if this explained everything. Standing next to Zel on the roll (the lower half of Figaro) she reached out to twist the faucet on the bathtub.