He knew, based on texting Schlagenweit over the past few days, that today was the moment that nerd had been anxiously waiting for-- A-levels. Kohaku didn't understand why a wizard who already had to take NEWTs and OWLs would willingly torture himself this way, but he figured it had to be some sort of masochism. Besides, couldn't you use magic to fake your results? Maybe Sasha was too prideful to do that. Either way, this masochist deserved a drink. Who cared if it was a Tuesday night? That meant that the bartender could get them drinks in a timely manner.

Kohaku didn't know of very many wizarding bars. After asking around, he figured out that the most recent popular place to go to was Death & Co. The name sounded pretty metal, but as long as it wasn't about to explode he was happy with it.

He approached the bar, Sasha in tow. "First drink on me--" He said. What would Sasha drink? Probably not a stout. Not whiskey. Something fancy but strong. "I'll have a whiskey-- you know, the wizard-y one." The bartender[1] gave him a cool look and promptly poured a glass of firewhiskey. "And for him--" He gave Sasha another appraising look. "Brandy." He would have to try stuff on Death and Co's specialties menu after the first drink.

"So." He turned to Sasha, firewhiskey in hand. "The deed is done--" He put on an air of drama to his voice, "First-- a drink. But what's next?" Kohaku's grin had a devilish edge to it.

1.	Emeline Trumble

Do you know that feeling of being lost in a fog?  The thick, bleak grey surrounds you and is draped over you in a way that blocks out all sights and sounds.  Not in the cold, life-sucking dementor-y way; at least dementors elicit some emotion or feeling.  They weren't pleasant feelings but they were more dynamic than the blind, sensory-dumb numbness that descended on the brain after extruding years of knowledge over several days of examination.   

Or, at least, half of the knowledge that had accumulated over the past 7 years.  The other half would be extruded in another 6 weeks. 

Bloody hell.  How had this been a good idea? 

Sasha's mind had drifted into a void as they'd made their way down Diagon Alley and he momentarily missed when Kohaku slipped through the door of Death & Co.  But a quick skip, a slight trip and slightly awkwardly self-corrected shift towards the left and Sasha made his way into the bar and caught up with Kohaku.  Kohaku ordered a firewhiskey and turned towards Sasha, snapping the younger man's attention back wholly to the present. 

It probably didn't come as a surprise to most, but Sasha really didn't drink.  Not out of any aversion.  He drank enough beer back in Germany, but beyond that ... there just wasn't time.  If he had extra time to devote to chemically shutting off brain cells, he'd sleep.  Beer might have been a perfectly fine celebratory beverage for completing five A-Levels.  Completing five A-Levels as a side activity to an entirely different educational system?  That was befitting a stronger drink. 

"Claret is the liquor for boys; port for men; but he who aspires to be a hero must drink brandy."[1]. 

Sasha blinked and watched the drink in his hand a moment before shaking his head and grinning with a long sigh.  "The deed.  Is.  Done."  Sasha repeated, taking a sip of the drink with an appreciative grin.  "I have no idea how that happened."  It was only slightly insane, in retrospect.  Which shouldn't be a surprise.  Plenty have been telling him that for years. 

"What's next?"  Sasha momentarily looked at Kohaku with a mixture of dismay and bafflement.  "Do I have to decide now?" he asked, almost desperately.  "Oh.  You mean tonight.  After the drink."  No.  He wasn't being cruel and asking Sasha to declare his next life's ambition.  Sasha really needed to relax.  He took another sip. 

"I'm not ready to make any decisions, yet.  Let's start with the drink."  Sasha took another sip then paused, glancing over the rim at Kohaku.  He felt a swelling of gratitude towards the older fellow; he was likely the only other one in the wizarding bar that understood what Sasha had just finished.  Or, at least half of it. 

"What did you do after yours?"

1.	Reference to a conversation with Kronos.

"Oh.  You mean tonight.  After the drink."

In fact, he had meant for Sasha to talk about his plans for the rest of his life. But he didn't want to look like a complete jerk, so he pretended like he had meant it in the kinder, more considerate way. After all, he didn't want to trigger some sort of existential crisis in Prince William's younger and better looking clone. The guy was already on edge or something like it. Kohaku accepted his answer though-- a drink first, decisions later.

"I'm pretty sure I went to bed after my A-levels." He admitted, "I crammed for them all night the day before. I would've fallen asleep and failed if I hadn't been chugging tea and sugar free red bull all night." He cringed, "It was on sale. The red bull. I hate the stuff, but I was desperate." What had he done after that? "Then I went to a bar for karaoke with some mates. Turned out it was a bear den." He shook his head, "And I am not a bear."

He took a gulp of firewhiskey, "I've decided that you're probably not human." He teased, "You did magic A-levels and normal person A-levels. No human would put themselves through that." Kohaku playfully bumped his arm against Sasha's, flashing the wizard a relaxed smile.

Then a horrible, brilliant, genius idea dawned upon him.

Jagerbombs.

"Sasha, Sasha, SASHA!" Kohaku exclaimed, jostling Sasha as if he didn't already have his undivided attention. "Do. Wizards. Have. Energy Drinks. Maybe not Red Bull but... Red Minotaur?"

Contently oblivious to any expectation for future plans, Sasha took another sip of his drink and grinned as the alcohol hit his system and he felt his brain relax. 

“Sleeping,” Sasha summarized, nodding his head as if the notion was a novel yet brilliant plan.  “That doesn’t sound like a half-bad idea.”  Sasha refrained from commenting on how many all-night cram sessions he’d been engaging in lately.  Those who’d had interest in the medical field would probably not approve.  “How did you end up doing, courtesy of red bull?”

The rest of the other young man’s post-examination activities involved slang that was beyond Sasha’s knowledge.  “A bear den?” Sasha repeated, looking at Kohaku for any context clues.  “Why would anyone ... think you’re a bear?” 

"I've decided that you're probably not human." He teased, "You did magic A-levels and normal person A-levels. No human would put themselves through that.”

With a grimace and a slight blush, Sasha added: “it’s worse than that.”  Sasha admitted.  “Did I mention I’m scheduled to do twelve.  You know, magic A-levels?  It’s … in hindsight, I really wouldn’t recommend it to anyone.  I should do a PSA.” 

Or not.  Kohaku had another idea in mind.

“Yes?  Yes?  Yes?”  Sasha repeated, acknowledging each of his names.  The combination of the question and his enthusiasm was only slightly unsettling.  With just the slightest hint of suspicion in his voice, Sasha nodded.  “They … they do have potions.  Of various potencies and effects.  I haven’t heard of Red Minotaur, but there might be a market there.  Why?  And why am I worried?” 

Twelve? Twelve magic A-levels?

For his own sanity, he was going to pretend that Sasha had not said that. Even imagining it was too stressful. Besides, jagerbombs were more important. But also...

Sasha didn't know what a bear den was. Oh god. He was so innocent. So naive. Kohaku gave him an incredulous look. He could already feel the alcohol's effects on him, cheeks warm. Wizarding liquor was clearly faster-acting than the regular kind. "I am going to find you a bear." He declared. "We need to go to Soho. now" They probably shouldn't teleport though. That was probably like drunk driving, which was not okay unless you were playing Mario Kart. "No teleporting. We need a magic taxi. We can find Red Minotaur there. And bears."

There was a finality in his tone that indicated that he would not accept any arguments against a bear hunt.

Oh wait.  Sasha's brow furrowed in thought as he lifted a slightly a hand to count but shook his head.  Divination.  Muggle Studies.  Care of Magical - wait.  Nevermind.  He'd worry about that another time.  Or, he wouldn't remember this by morning.  Only time would tell. 

Right now, he was a bit too confused about why they were going to Soho to find a bear.  "But, the zoo is outside of Soho," Sasha pointed out.  "And, I think I've done enough biology for the day."  After a week of science A-Levels, why was Kohaku wanting to take Sasha to the zoo of all places?

The Ravenclaw emptied the rest of his brandy and set a tip on the bar before tugging his coat over his shoulders.  "I've never taken a magic taxi," Sasha admitted.  "Never needed to.  Do you know how?"  In the muggle world, you'd call.  But, owls were the closest thing to a phone in the magical world.  "Can't we just Floo, or-?"  He looked around the room for the fireplace but then a thought occurred to him.  He looked at Kohaku with a broad grin and patted his shoulder.  "Follow my lead." 

Sasha cleared his throat and then led the way out of Death & Co.  He spotted an older (and, more importantly, unfamiliar-looking) witch and crossed the alley to her.

"Entschuldigen Sie, bitte.  Kannst du-"  Sasha waited for the requisite confused look before starting over, throwing a strong Bavarian accent that would have made his Grandmother proud.  "Excuse me, bitte.  I am from Munich visiting and would very much like a cab.  Could you show me the London way?" 

Surreptitiously, Sasha nudged Kohaku with his elbow as the witch lifted her wand to call one. 

He knew very well that he couldn't fake any other accent other than his own and kept quiet while Sasha took the lead. Maiko had mentioned something about magical cabs being used mostly for squibs and the very drunk. It didn't seem like something that would be super prevalent in a world where people could regularly teleport from place to place. They literally only had to wait three seconds before a cab pulled up.

The pair climbed into the backseat, and he grinned and waved in silent thanks to the witch who had hailed it.

Once the doors were closed, he leaned towards Sasha. "That," He began, "Was awesome." The squib turned his atention to the driver-- a wizard who looked like he was part goblin. "We're headed to Soho. To that bookshop, err..." What was it called again? "Frisky business." He had only been to The Closet a couple times with Mai, but it had been awhile. He could never forget where it was, though. The goblin-wizard-thing gave Sasha and Kohaku a knowing look.

And they sped off-- far faster than any cab Kohaku had ever been in.

Moments later, the cab sped to a halt and Kohaku was left feeling dizzy, but not nauseous. He stumbled out of the cab, "Are they always like that?" he asked, not necessarily looking for an answer. He paused for a moment to feel more settled in his surroundings. "We're going inside. This time you follow my lead." Kohaku's grin was far too amused to be completely innocent.

He grabbed Sasha by the wrist to ensure that he would follow them into the very clearly, adult bookshop. He weaved between the bookcases until he found the cash register, and a tired-looking witch adjusting her septum piercing. Here, you had to ask the right questions to get in. What was it that Mai had said before? Eh. He was going to be straightforward. He didn't have the brainspace, patience, or desire to be subtle tonight. "Where's the closet?"

The witch gave Sasha and Kohaku an appraising look. She said absolutely nothing, but she rang a silver bell. A bookcase to her right transfigured into a door.

"You first." Kohaku urged Sasha. It was time to live a little.

"And, thanks to observational learning, I'll know how to do it, next time."  Wait...what?  Was he actually already assuming there would be a next time?

Unless the magical world had derived a nickname for the zoo that involved the actions of animals after hours, the zoo was not their destination of choice.  Sasha cast a suspicious glance between the cab driver and Kohaku as the vehicle tore through the streets of London.  Normally, he'd be enthusiastic about the prospects of going to a bookstore but, given the name, he was starting to be suspicious about the nature of this outing. 

"Is this one of those ... a classmate dragged me out to a department store to buy jeans, once.  As an 'experience.'  This isn't like that, is it?" 

It was looking more and more like that, though, as Sasha was led through the door of Frisky Business.  All around them, shelves and displays were lined with books and less ... bookish wares.  Sasha caught a glimpse of a rather vivid pink-covered magazine as they neared the front counter and threw a hand over his mouth to stifle the nervous giggle.  The warmth from the brandy masked the flush in his face but Sasha knew he had to be beet red as he looked up at the witch who seemed to epitomize everything Gerhard had believed was wrong with the world in a single glance. 

He was having fun! 

"Do I need to show an ID?"  Sasha asked as the witch rang a bell.  Come to think of it, did wizards have IDs?  Was their wand an ID?  He was eighteen, now!  He wanted to bloody show someone an ID!  Ignoring the slightly confused look on the witch's face, Sasha hoisted his wand with a grin and led through the doorway. 

It took a moment for his eyes and ears to adjust to the sensory cacophony.  The lights were low but small jars of potions positioned around the dance floor spewed showers of colored lights.  Two wizards in bright robes were making their way onto the dance floor.  So, they'd come to another dance club - of a different flavor than the place they'd left in Diagon Alley.  But, Sasha was still confused.  He turned to Kohaku and, leaning in so he'd be heard over the music, loudly asked: "I don't understand.  Where are the bears?" 

Although there were so many differences between wizards and non-wizards, including their cultures, Kohaku had noticed a pattern. Marginalized groups within normal human culture were often marginalized groups within magical culture as well. This included the gay community. Bars were one of few safe havens where you could be you, regardless of your sexuality. As a result, the gay scene was alive and well. Albeit, hidden.

Coming to the bar in the middle of the week brought out the laid back types. Regulars. Fans of karaoke and trivia. The weekend was when those looking for a party came out. And the inexperienced or those new to the scene.

"A bear is--" He subtly motioned towards a stocky, uber masculine man wearing plaid with a large beard and a jolly smile. "That's a bear." Kohaku said, leading back to their earlier conversation. "A bear den is a bar that caters to the gay bear community. I haven't found a wizarding bear den but. But they come here." He glanced at the bar, "Y'see that bloke talking to the bartender? That's a bull." The man was huge, muscular, wearing a tight-fitted shirt. He was built, well... like a bull.

Okay, how to explain this?

"Alright, us gays--" he assumed Sasha was gay. He just radiated vibes that screamed 'not straight.' But then again, Kohaku assumed most people weren't straight. "We categorize people based on body type and loosely on interests. You?" He grinned, "A twink?" No. That didn't fit. He shook his head. "You're a gaylister."

As Kohaku pointed towards the larger man in the corner and started to explain, the Ravenclaw’s confusion persisted.  Gay bear community.  Wizarding bear dens.  Bulls.  Was Kohaku really expecting any of this to make sense?  Sasha’s expression was one of complete perplexion when he turned back to the squib.
 
”Alright, us gays—“
 
Sasha froze and blinked, slowly.  He cast another glance around the room, taking a closer look at the other patrons and the door leading back up to the prav0cative bookstore at street level.  All the confusion from the last fifteen minutes vanished, with a few unexpected facts thrown into the mix for good measure.  The fact that Sasha hadn't bolted from the room and wasn't feeling any need to do so exemplified how much he'd grown in the last couple of years.  A fifth year Sasha would have fled the Closet without looking back.  Instead, he took a nearby seat.

Several questions were dancing on the tip of Sasha's tongue but they seemed both crass and obvious at the same time.  You're gay?  You think I'm gay?"  Clearly the answer to both questions was 'yes.'  Kohaku had just said as much.  The topic had never been put quite so ... bluntly before and while Sasha reflexively wanted to say he wasn't, even that didn't feel right. 

"I ... I don't really know," Sasha admitted.  "Won't they ... will they think we're, you know, here together?  And, why am I on a list?" 

Judging by the look of utter confusion and bewilderment on Sasha's face, he was brand-spanking-new to the gay scene. Kohaku had been openly gay since he was about fifteen years old, though he had known before then, thanks to Final Fantasy X and Tidus' perfect face.

Sasha sat down, but Kohaku was eager to order more drinks so he remained standing. Did he break the gaylister? Probably. But it was nothing that couldn't be fixed. After all, years in the metaphorical closet was far more damaging than the process to accepting your identity. Even if that process was painful. "No one thinks we're together." He assured Sasha, "And even if they did, it really would not be a big deal. I mean." He crossed his arms over his chest, a lazy but amused smile spreading across his cheeks. "I hate to break it to you, but we're in a gay bar. And you're not on a list. You're a gaylister. It's a play. On the word 'a-lister."

He put a hand on Sasha's shoulder, feeling very much like some sort of gay sage. "Uh. You look like a twink but you dress like a gay-lister. And you're rich. Personal-stylist and giant-mansion rich."

They were in a gay bar.  He was a gaylister.  The prospect that he might be gay wasn’t entirely novel.  Of course, his months of dating Ferguson had brought that to mind on more than one occasion.  Then, again, when he and Abby had … what was the right word?  Courted was probably a more fitting term than dated.  Over the past couple years, the question would arise in his mind and Sasha would promptly find a calculus problem or potion’s essay to serve as a distraction.  Studying had become a distraction … coping mechanism for so many things Sasha had been avoiding thinking about over the years.
 
It helped that the question of his sexuality had never been put so … bluntly.   It had merely been danced around.
 
But, his brain was tired.  He was tired.  And, he was celebrating.  Celebrating completing A-Levels, despite being stuck at Hogwarts for the last 7 years.  Even Professor Trishna had faked those.  No one was going to come over and tattoo his forehead; aside from Kohaku, Sasha didn’t see anyone else he recognized.  It was more than a safe bet that none of his muggle friends were going to wander in and see him.  Now wasn't the time to answer that question.  Would it really be so bad if, for once, didn’t worry about other’s perceptions and just had fun?
 
He could consider it a social experiment, if he wanted.  Or, just have more alcohol and continue to pretend to be a German tourist.  For once, he was determined not to worry.  He’d earned that.  And, Jacoba would be proud.
 
“I do not have a personal stylist.  I had lessons growing up,” Sasha said, pushing himself resolutely to his feet.  Though, the thought had crossed his mind to hire a wizard stylist but Kohaku didn’t need to know that.  “My mansion is currently a pile of ash.  But, let’s do this thing.  Drinks on me, this time.”

"You had professional lessons... On personal styling?" Kohaku thought that was perhaps, one of the most stereotypically upper-class gay things Sasha had ever said. Ever. Of course. Of course he did. It always struck him, what a vastly different life he and Sasha had led. Sasha had never wanted for anything (except for a semi-functional family) in his life. Happy people who came from happy families didn't usually burn their homes down. That was something that people did if they wanted to make sure nothing would tie them there anymore. Without that old home to return to, Sasha would be forced to move on.

It was an expensive way to do it, but he could afford it.

The topic of drinks shifted his attention. Right. Tonight was a night for celebration!

"Fine, you get this round. I'll get the next." It was pride more than anything that made Kohaku adamant that they remained on equal footing. No way in hell was he going to have anyone accuse him of using Sasha for his wealth. "We need jagerbombs."  No, better idea. "CARBOMBS." Wait, wizards probably didn't even know what that was! "It's Guinness, Irish cream, and whiskey.... and you chug it. That's the rule. You have to chug it." It was a disgusting concoction, and chugging was the only way to get it down.

Jagerbombs or carbombs made little difference to Sasha.  He hadn't had either forms of alcoholic terrorism and was hardly an expert on the differences between them.  Their names suggested a certain affinity to unpleasant explosives so Sasha assumed both were more about the affects rather than the taste. 

"Two car bombs - erh," he glanced between the bartender and Kohaku but the witch...or wizard, it wasn't readily apparent from subtle glances...seemed to know what they were asking for.  With a nod, the spiky-haired bartender plopped a pair of shot glasses on the bar top. 

"Personal styling is a fairly standard component of most etiquette or charm school curricula.  You know - what to wear based off what you want to achieve, who you're trying to achieve it with and your personal assets.  I suppose, not dissimilar from-" he glanced around the barroom at the various 'bears and bulls.'  "You know?  What to where to a dinner party when you're content to be on even footing with the host.  Or, what asset to flaunt if you're trying to -" The bartender returned, plopping the two foaming glasses on the bar top. 

Sasha raised his eyebrows dubiously at the concoction as he completed his sentence.  "- put the host in their social place, with varying degrees of subtlety.  Human plumage.  They treated it like quite serious stuff."  He lifted the glass and sniffed the pungent mixture, casting another dubious glance at Kohaku. 

"This was definitely not in the curriculum."

Clearly the bartender understood some aspects of muggle culture. There were a lot of magic-people who had normal parents, Kohaku knew that. Whatever had been poured from the tap certainly wasn't Guinness judging by the label, but it was a dark beer. He didn't like to think about the fact that this drink's name was downright offensive, but it it was a quick way to get people drunk.

Sasha was making excuses about how lessons on personal styling were normal. But one word kept being used-- asset. Kohaku grinned an evil grin. But first-- their drink. He poured the shot glass into the beer. "Now, we chug." He clinked his glass against Sasha's before, well, taking the next step on his quest to get totally inebriated. He brought the glass to his lips and drank as fast as he could without spilling. The last few gulps did not go down smoothly. Kohaku tried to hold it in-- but a couple of coughs escaped.

Pretending like there wasn't alcohol in his sinuses, he focused back on Sasha's personal styling thing. "So, you dress to flaunt your assets," he made a vague motion with his free hand, "Which ones?" Kohaku set the glass on the bar, "And in your professional, stylist-educated opinion, what are my assets?"