Kelvin wasn't hiding, not really.  Anyone who knew him, knew he was as likely to be in the library as not.  He had moved from the normal place he'd claimed during his first year.   And maybe he had purposely chosen the part of the history section where no one ventured.  Especially on a Friday night.  And sure, even Kelvin hadn't spent Friday evenings after dinner in the library in a long time, but he still couldn't look Connor in the eye since he'd kissed him.  Which he was sure made everything awkward between them.  Which was why he wasn't in the common room.  Or anywhere else his friends, or really anyone else, was.  But he wasn't hiding.  Not really.

At least he no longer felt like people were staring at him in class and in the hallways after his display at the Yule Ball.  He wasn't sure that people were staring, he could never catch anyone at it.  But he knew they were.  He could feel it, and it wasn't just the portraits that always seemed to be looking.  Or at least he didn't think it was just them.  But he didn't feel like anyone was looking at him in the library.  So maybe he was avoiding people, he was also catching up on the latest issue of Sphinx, a magical comic about the adventures of an escaped Sphinx in England, that given its penchant for riddles was perfect for the young Ravenclaw. 

And he was pretty sure he'd heard the knocker to the common room use one before.  Or it might have been the other way around.  He had a couple of other comics that had been delivered earlier in the week.  All of the covers moving trying to get his attention and be the next one he picked up.  He turned the page, a wizard had answered wrong and the sphinx was attacking the man, each panel animating the attack, though it was not as violent as a real one, at least according to what he'd read in his classes.

Friday night and Figaro had to get into his stash.  He'd hidden it where he assumed no one would ever go, leastaways anyone who would care if they found an odd little bag of 'potions supplies'.  It was a moldy old history section back in a dank corner that had been forgotten, or at least that's how it seemed to Figaro who barely set foot in the library.

He was in a good mood, no rush.  Had plans with friends to get some junk food, sit by a fire and play games until the wee hours - typical Friday night.   But as the month had gone by, his practice of handing out stings whenever anyone asked him had worn his supply down thin.  His last little cubby of them was tucked behind a copy of The Economical, Social, Political, Sociopolitical, Politico-magical, and Mago-economical Implications of Sociopolitico Eco Magic by J.P. Gorgon.  It was a fat load of nonsense and made a good little cubby.  There was also no threat at all of anyone -

There was someone!  Figaro kept it casual soon as he realized the little ghost haunting this forgotten corner was the bookish Kelvin Watkins.  At least he was reading comic books and not something actually to be found in this area of Hogwarts Library.

"Alright," he greeted as he walked past him.  He ran his fingers over books at eye level, apparently browsing the titles, but his eyes were on Kelvin.

"Aw, the Sphinx.  Good one.  Used to have a bunch of them."  He didn't really want to get into his book, which was about 3 feet over Kelvin's left shoulder with Kelvin sitting there.  He had absolutely no excuse to be reading J.P. Gorgon.

Kelvin tensed as he heard someone approaching his section of the otherwise silent library, and was surprised when the person turned out to be Figaro.  Probably the last person he ever expected to run into in the library, well on a Friday night, or any night really, in this section of the library he didn't expect to run into anyone at all.

"Hi," Kelvin responded quietly, not wanting to bring the librarian down upon them or any other students over to his corner of the library.  "It's the latest issue.  The wizard isn't doing too well." He whispered as he turned the page.  The wizard was firing spells at the sphinx now.  He'd probably get away, they usually did in the comics.  But it was never easy and always bloody.

He closed the book, marking his place with a finger.  He turned his head to look at the older boy, "What are you looking for?  I didn't think anyone ever used this section."  And no one had while he'd been using it to avoid everyone.

Fig smiled at Kelvin's astute parsing of The Sphinx.  But why was he whispering? Figaro had no wish to encounter they creepy Slytherin Head of House Mr. Morgan or any of his lackeys, either - but honestly, they were in the Nowhere Section.  Who would hear?

Kelvin was asking why Figaro could be found in such an incongruous place and Fig couldn't really blame him.  "Just some light reading," he joked.  "You know how much I love such topics as... the rise and fall of Ilya the Ill..." he said, reading off another nearby title.

He sat against the table that Kelvin was at, glancing up again at the thick tome behind which is quarry had been safely tucked away.  He was impatient to get on with his plans, but he wasn't really keen on some little Ravenclaw asking stupid questions. 

"So what're you hiding from?"  Perhaps an invasive line of questions would give Fig the privacy he was looking from.  "Jealous mobs of your former lovers?"

Kelvin watched as Figaro read out a random title in jest, "You know that one's not bad, it's terrible what happened to Ilya, and what she did.  But she wasn't herself, she started off with good intentions."  Ever the son of two historians, he'd read a good number of histories, including a few of the tomes from the section they were in.  Not that he particularly wanted to have a conversation with the older boy about a fifthteenth century witch.

He just wanted to be left alone in his corner of the library hidden away from--"I'm not hiding from anyone.  Why would I be--I don't have any former--I'm just--I just wanted to read these,"  Kelvin said, no longer whispering.

Figaro's face lit up.  Kelvin's stammering response to his motives for being in Nerd Land could only mean defensiveness and a touch of anxiety and was that humiliation? While shame was a nearly unknown concept to Figaro, he could recognize when someone didn't want to talk about something; and that could only mean that something dreadfully interesting was inside young Mr. Watkins, just itching to be told. 

Fig's plans could wait.  He'd found something better to do.

No longer so worried about his 'cover', Figaro reached right past Kelvin to pull a thick book out of the shelf, absolutely invading Kelvin's personal space in the process.  He reached in and pulled out a little drawstring bag.  Then Figaro pulled out the chair right next to the Ravenclaw and sat right on down.

"Wrong answer.  Spill, mate.  Let's have it.  Tell Old Fig your secrets."

He undid the strings and spilled the toothpick-sized billywig stings onto the table, and they scattered into a needly little pile.  Figaro waved his hand over them.

"Ah... the stings... they speak to me... your fate is ... blurry..."

The look on Figaro's face was not the one that Kelvin had been hoping for.  Not delight or excitement or whatever that look was that he had now.  And he certainly didn't expect to have the older boy get way too close reaching past him to pull something out from behind a book.  Which at least explained why he was in the section in the first place.  They'd both been hiding things in the usually unused section.  He wondered what else was hidden by students in the less trafficked areas of the library.

"Wrong answer.  Spill, mate.  Let's have it.  Tell Old Fig your secrets."

With a sigh, he laid his head down on the table, hiding his face, missing the stings spilling out onto the table.  "It's not a secret.  Not really.  It happened in the middle of the Yule Ball, plenty of people saw.  I kissed my best friend and then ran out of the hall before he could say anything.  It's not exactly easy to avoid him, same house and dorm and all.  Someone spiked the punch, or I never would've done it."  He said, voice muffled by the table and his arms.

Ah damn, he didn't see his divination gag.  But upside: he was being forthcoming.   Figaro carefully shifted around the pile of stings, separating them.  There was a shriveled blackened one that he flicked away, a couple of broken ones that also needed to be culled. 

"Aw, that's old news, coz.  That was before holiday! Who was that again?"  Figaro had heard of some boy-on-boy scandal, but had been having his own fun at the time, and he didn't know who Kelvin hung out with.  He tried to think of Ravenclaw's more bookish lads...

"Not Norling?  He's not over it yet? Uptight much."

Figaro was still sorting out his stings, more as idle ritual than anything useful.  The larger ones weren't necessarily more potent - they just had thicker hulls. 

"What?!" Kelvin said, jerking his head up and looking at the older boy.  "No, not Alvis," he added quickly.  "Connor.  And it wasn't  that long ago.  And I've been avoiding him, so I don't know if he's over it."  Which hadn't been easy, but somehow he'd managed it.  Except it had made every day a stressful one.

Finally seeing what Figaro was doing, Kelvin seized one of the stings and the opportunity to change the subject, "Where'd these come from--What are they?" 

"Connor Todd."  Figaro looked at Kelvin.  That did make more sense.  Connor was substantially more fun than Ambrose Pepper, and if Figaro were the sort to kiss other boys, he'd pick Connor as well.  "Alright, then."

At Kelvin's inquery, Figaro slid over a billywig sting.  Kelvin was the sort to be up for something adventerous, was he not?

"They're Billywig stings, Kelvin.  They come from Billywigs," he said matter-of-factly, stating the obvious.  Fig held one up for demonstration.

"Bite off the pointy end and stick it on your tongue.  Forget your troubles.  Like unrequited love between roommates." 

Figaro then did as he'd instructed, nipping off the end and holding the sting between his teeth.  He took a long blink and sighed as the spicy, sour venom hit is tongue and a fluffy cloud surrounded his brain.  It felt like a warm bed on a Saturday morning, a relaxing shower after a Quidditch match.  Not shackled to the ground.

"You should talk to him," Figaro advised sagely.  "You should."

Kelvin watched as the Hufflepuff bit off the end of the sting and put it in his mouth.  All he could remember about billywigs was that they were found in Australia.  And he was sure he'd read something about the stings being able to elevate the mind, but he hadn't paid much attention to their usage or properties after figuring he wasn't about to come across a billywig floating around his home.

"I should." He whispered.  "No,  I will.  Tomorrow," He continued more resolutely.  In the meantime, he'd rather forget about it all.  And it wasn't like Figaro was falling over paralyzed or going crazy in the quiet library.  "Can I have one?"  He said tentatively.

There was a sting sitting in front of Kelvin, and so Figaro reached over and pointedly slid it even closer to him.  "Course.  It's all you, Mr. Watkins."

Figaro had gone just a touch heavy-lidded.  The diffused sunshine as it came through clouds and thick colored glass made the dust in the air look like tiny glowing fairies floating aimlessly.  He rested his head on his hand and watched as Kelvin tried out a sting.

"So are you gay then? Like Schlagenweit[1]?  Fauna's kissed a girl, you know. Olivia Foley[2], if you remember her," he said languidly.  His tone made it seem like he wasn't keen on the answer coming out either way.

"But if I remember right, it was Ollie doing the kissing.  Fauna's only dated lads.  You remember Fauna Blake?[3]."

Figaro had been close friends with an older girl from Hufflepuff who was now off training to be an Auror. 

"We were in love," he said casually.  It wasn't exactly true, but it felt like the thing to say.  And he was currently on-again with Sophie Flickwick. So.

1.	Dated Ferguson Amherst.
2.	Hufflepuff in Figaro's year who was expelled for being a werewolf under Headmistress Snark, and let back in under Headmaster Reid, but eventually left on her own.
3.	Finished Hogwarts in 2009, dated Devlin Matthews, known to be a very nice person

Kelvin gingerly picked up the sting Fig had pushed closer to him, he slowly placed it between his teeth and bit the end off.  Nothing happened.  Then he remembered he was supposed to touch it to his tongue, which he did and was surprised by the taste.

 It wasn't foul, which maybe he'd been expecting since just about everything about the potions and potion ingredients that he'd tasted tended toward the disgusting rather than the pleasant.  Not that it was pleasant, just unexpectedly not disgusting.

Almost immediately, his head felt like it was floating on his shoulders.  The tension from the whole conversation so far eased and Kelvin was feeling calmer than he had since he'd kissed Connor. And then Fig was asking questions and talking again.  And Kelvin's head kept getting lighter, and his answers came out lighter and slower than normal.  "Yeah, I'm gay."  He answered slowly.  He hadn't said that to anyone, despite the kissing of his best friend, since he'd told his parents over the summer and his mum had basically disowned him.  And she hadn't said a work to him since.

"I remember—Wait, who was in love?"  His words slightly slurred now and though the head rush was already starting to pass, he was calmer than ever and his body seemed heavier.

Figaro smiled as he could see Kelvin react to what must have been his first time trying a sting.  He looked a little surprised and a little doofy.  He did like a lot of people did and hold just a little bit tighter to the table.  But he'd need to have three or four more if he was actually going to float off.  It was nice to have company anyway.

If Figaro hadn't been floating on the wing of a sting, he might've reacted with more surprise that the quiet Ravenclaw who read Sphinx comics was gay - Figaro hadn't quite internalized yet that not all gay people were like how the WWN characterized them.  But with his head happy and swimmy, he felt mellow and brotherly towards the kid.  Figaro patted him on the shoulder and let his arm dangle there.

"I'm in love with Sophie Flickwick," he said, having already forgotten he'd just said he'd been in love with Fauna Blake.  The unattainable warrior mouse.  "She is awesome. She's a bomb. An explosive awesome bomb." 

Poetry in motion. 

"If you're gay, why doesn't anyone know it? I'm terrible at secrets, you know. Ask Zel Trumble.  You know him? I think he's gay.  Also a werewolf." 

"And pray, why should anyone know of one's sexual preference, Sellaphix? Hmmm?" Bran asked this side of irritated, with a perfectly charming little smile, finally making his presence known by rounding the corner of the aisle. He leaned on one shelf, arms and legs crossed and gave the both of them a skeptical, if amused, look.

Although Bran could be found rather often in the library, this section would not be his first choice on any given day. It wouldn't be anybody's choice, as a matter of fact... Which is why he'd thought it perfect for a little quiet time and a nap. Which by the state of his loose tie, slightly unbuttoned shirt and his otherwise perfect curls, throwing a little bit of a fit, could be deduced rather easily. So when he'd heard voices from the aisle right next, he just couldn't help but open one eye lazily and discreetly sit in on the conversation. Gossip could be found anywhere, after all.

When he realized one of the participants in the dialogue was Sellaphix, he was this close from just standing up and walking away. Obnoxious was a mild word to put in correlation to the Hufflepuff. He was... fairly attractive, Bran supposed, but his personality and fashion choices—disastrous, absolutely disastrous. Horrifying even. Then again, the conversation turned to a rather interesting subject. Namely, kissing. And Bran Blackwell couldn't possibly miss out on that opportunity.

"Still at it with those Billywig stings?" he asked, judgmental eyes sliding from the sting in the fourth year's hand to Figaro. "Some might argue you have a bit of a substance abuse problem, you know?" he mused with a quirked eyebrow. "And word does travel so quickly in the castle..." Bran's intention wasn't to threaten, merely to warn. He couldn't really be arsed with anything Sellaphix did. But the entire ordeal was rather enfant terrible, and not at all in the attractive sense. If one wanted to get high, there were much more elegant ways to go about it than Billywig stings. But, this was Sellaphix... The world would crumble before anything he did could be called elegant. Bran was actually fairly surprised that word hadn't yet gotten to any of the staff.

"Kelvin, darling" he then turned to glare at the Ravenclaw, pushing himself against the shelf to walk the few steps to the two boys. "From what I heard," -the benefit of having relatives in all years and ears all over Hogwarts- "This is rather out of character for you, no? Tut tut" he let out a rather dramatic sigh, walking past the table only to sit himself on a far corner of it. "Nevertheless" he dismissed it with a wave of his hand, crossing them over his chest. "Connor, hmm? Todd, I reckon?" he smiled slyly, and jolted his eyebrows upwards in surprise. "My, my... I have to compliment you for both your tastes and that absolutely delicious scene at the Ball." It had been cause for much amusement, and maybe just a tiny little clap from yours truly. "Most wouldn't dare to think you had that in you" he chuckled under his breath.

"Still," his eyes turned glacial again, flickering over at Sellaphix "what could possibly have you in such a state that you'd deem it wisely to share your troubles with Sellaphix here—and his... stings?" The last word came pointed with the crinkling of his nose in honest to God disgust. "As the boy himself just said, he does so have an issue with discretion." Bran smiled politely and watched the younger boy expectantly.