Hopefully, the questions would get harder.  Anyone who'd paid minimal attention during History of magic classes, or who had shown any interest in the history of the corridors they'd spent seven years of their lives wandering, would know Rowena Ravenclaw had designed the school's moving staircases.  Only a Ravenclaw - in this case, the founder of Ravenclaw - would have been able to combine the necessary charms with an understanding of spatial dynamics to ensure the flights of stairs met when and where they needed to. 

Sasha's quill scratched against the parchment answer sheet before he took a sip of his drink.  A long, slender tentacle slipped out from underneath the ice cube and flicked Sasha on the nose.  The Kraken was an odd drink on all fronts and, despite his usual vegetarian tendencies protesting at the sea creature chaser, Sasha had developed a taste for the slightly salty and tangy drink.

Developed a taste for.  As if this had become a regular occurrence.  Which, he suppsed, it had. 

By now, he'd visited The Closet a dozen times or so since Kohaku had first brought him back in April, though that number would have been double if it hadn't taken a few false starts to get past entering the street-level shop of a dubious nature.  "Research" had been the original reason for returning to The Closet on his own.  After the third or fourth time, he'd given up finding an excuse.   He couldn't quite put his finger on why he liked the club, though not for a lack of careful reflection.  Maybe it was just the anonymity or maybe it was the opportunity to experiment with being someone he wasn't, or someone he usually didn't let himself be, in a (relatively) safe space.  He didn't know. 

But, he liked trivia.  He liked the Krakens.  And, he maybe even liked tiptoeing outside of his normal comfort zone.  The Closet was a reliable place to do all three. 

With the last slot on the answer sheet occupied by Rowena Ravenclaw's name, the second round of trivia was finished.  Sasha scraped his chair back and got to his feet, crossing the room to the bar.  He slipped the rolled up parchment into the top hat, which gobbled it up happily, and picked up a blank one for the next round.  It was when he'd turned back to return to his seat that he realized he recognized one of the faces he'd past on his way to the bar.  And, there was no convenient way to return to his seat without passing by his former classmate's table. 

Sasha took a deep breath, resigned himself to the potential inevitable and resumed weaving between the chairs to his seat.  He offered a sheepish grin as he passed his classmate's table, offering a sheepish grin as he did just in case Virgil recognized him.   

Virgil Carstairs was celebrating his first proper free night after their half-month run of Peter Pan at Stardust in Convent Garden - which was really just around the corner from The Closet's Soho location. He'd considered coming here after almost every encore, and especially after nights when the thought of Cepheus Gamp was enough to make the young wizard more than a little hopeless. Entirely hopeless actually. People like him just weren't meant for each other.

The truth was, he probably wasn't going to get anywhere with Ceph, was he? And places like the Closet was where you went to forget things like that, wasn't it?

He had absolutely dressed for the part anyway. Gelled up his hair. Shamelessly applied a coat of mascara, a smudge of curtain red lipstick. Perfume...nothing too floral. Just sweet enough to make a man curious. Virgil knew the sort that liked him, not that he'd ever slept with someone he didn't already know at Hogwarts.

It was just easy to know when you could glean a bit of someone's thoughts while they chatted you up at the bar, and this was not his first visit to the club. He liked their quizzes. It helped that the place wasn't too crowded on weeknights. On a busier evening, he wouldn't know where to start looking for a distraction. On a busier evening, he would have completely missed Schlagenweit.

Virgil did a double take, looking up from his sparkling water (he was already high on gillyweed and didn't mix substances). It really was Sasha! The clothes threw him off a moment but only someone like Schlagenweit could have so sheepish a smile. Virgil stuck out a gangly leg, interrupting his former classmate's stride.

"What, no hello?" he cocked a fair eyebrow at the other blonde and laughed. "A few months out of Hogwarts and we're strangers all of a sudden, Schlagenweit? You wound me."

A leg barred his path, thwarting what Sasha had hoped would be an uneventful return to his table.  He turned more properly towards Virgil and gave a half-hearted shrug.  The other's attire was bold; under bright, full spectrum light it might have even been a bit garish.  But, the low and warm-hued lights of the club washed out everything but brightest of colors. 

Sasha hesitated for a few breaths as his mind ticked through the range of possible responses.  The natural, instinctual simmering behind his tongue was the customary apology.  While it wouldn't have been inappropriate, for once Sasha knew that it would be distinctly disingenuous.  Claiming he didn't want to intrude on the other's evening, while also potentially appropriate, would have been a flat-out lie. 

He opted for honesty, despite the lingering confusion surrounding his motivations for coming to the club. 

"I wasn't sure if I was ready to run into someone I knew here.  There's a surprising amount of security in being a stranger."    He shrugged, again.  Among strangers, there was no reputation to maintain or repair.  With a grin, he added, "I never would have guessed your so easy to wound.  Please accept my deepest and most heart-felt apologies." 

Virgil drew his leg in, blinking slowly at the other wizard like a cat who hadn't quite made up its mind about whether it wanted to bother someone. He slouched back in his seat and nodded at the empty chair across the small round table. It was an early night. He could do a lot worse than Sasha, for company, and it helped to have someone around just in case he mouthed off at the wrong person. Every bar had potential for a fight. 

"You're ready. It's a small wizarding world, even smaller queer one." Virgil reached into his breast pocket to retrieve a cigarette and used his wand to light it - The Closet being one of few places in London that would let you smoke indoors. "Apology accepted. You here for the quiz?" he took a quick drag, leaving lipstick marks on the bud.

They were about to start announcing questions for the popular music round, which was easy as sin for Virgil, so he didn't worry too much about paying attention. "Or have you overcome your Page of Rods....?[1]" his lips pulled into a typically salacious smile. "It's not a bad night to pull. All the nice boys come out on Mondays, present company excluded."

1.	Something Inside Me - 17th April, Virgil uses a page instead of a knight to represent Sasha because he is a virgin.

Sasha glanced from Virgil to the empty chair and back.  From personal experience, he knew that conversations with Virgil could be a mixed bag; the living embodiment of both the little angel and devil riding around on someone's shoulders.  There was no telling which (or whether both) would surface in any given conversation.  Without a response one way or another, Sasha turned and continued weaving through the tables to his own seat.  He picked up his drink and, fully aware he could regret this, returned to Virgil's table and took the empty seat. 

"You're ready. It's a small wizarding world, even smaller queer one.  Apology accepted. You here for the quiz?  Or have you overcome your Page of Rods....?"

Sasha flinched, slightly, before taking a sip of his drink.  In the course of a few brief sentences, Virgil managed to hit the nail of uncertainty on the head.  Relationships and sexuality continued to be an area of mass confusion and whether that was part of the reason Sasha had started coming here, he didn't know.  Maybe he'd started coming here in the hopes of finding an answer.  But, so far, that hadn't happened. 

"Partly for the quiz," Sasha responded.  Partly for other reasons, though Virgil's current approach didn't precisely invite confidence.  "Do you enjoy being an ass?" Sasha asked, looking across the table at Virgil.  Wizarding popular music was far from Sasha's strong suit; he doodled on the first line of the answer sheet as the question was called out. 

"I come here because it's one place where I don't feel like I need to define anything." 

He smiled around his cigarette, acknowledging that the little quip about Pages and Knights had cut straight to the heart of Sasha's visit tonight. So that was it. Schlagenweit was looking around to have his sword honoured - or to finally honour somebody else's. Virgil supposed the other wizard had a.... farm boy quality that would attract the right sort, without difficulty. And some lads loved a man who 'spoke muggle' for reasons beyond his understanding (or willingness to understand).

              "Do you enjoy being an ass?"

The second popular music question was called out, difficult to hear over Virgil's startled laugh. Clouds of smoke leapt out of his red mouth. "Perhaps. You'd be surprised how often it can get me what I want!" he declared with a high-off-his-head grin and took a drink of water while his gaze swept over the club floor.

Not much dancing going on yet. People were waiting for the quiz to finish. There were loads of wizards happily chatting at the bar, though, and Virgil used his cigarette to gesture at them. The interactions looked innocent and friendly in spite of the many colourful drinks being slid over the counter.

"You chose a good spot. Nobody here's going to ask you for your club card..." he trailed off to glance at Sasha, appraisingly. "Are you eying someone tonight? Leather jacket is a good choice. Plays to a whopping crowd, believe me."

Another popular culture question and another line on the answer sheet filled in with an entirely unrelated doodle.  With luck, the next round would be devoted to a less casual topic.  Geography.  Animals.  Something that would afford him a better chance of putting something other then line drawing of a tree down on his paper.   

"Are you eying someone tonight? Leather jacket is a good choice. Plays to a whopping crowd, believe me."

The habitual impulse to find some way of avoiding or escaping the uncomfortable path this conversation was traveling was flaring in the back of Sasha's mind.  The options, as always, were numerous: from ignoring Virgil to a dismissive shrug with some self-deprecating (or Virgil-deprecating) attempt at humor or simply calling the other young man out for poking his proverbial nose where it doesn't belong. 

But, again, one of the appeals of this place was being able to pretend to be someone different.  Instead of deflecting, Sasha leaned back in his chair and glanced over his shoulder towards the end of the bar before turning back to Virgil.  "To say I'm eyeing would probably make it sound like more then it actually is.  Browsing.  Like leafing through the bins at Reducto Records."  Extra points for an analogy pertaining to the trivia topic.  "Wondering." 

Sasha shook his head and took a sip.  "I'm sure this will come as an earth-shaddering surprise, but I'm not very well-versed in ... this."  Whatever this was.  "I've struck up conversation with a few.  But, nothing more then that."

Sasha's description of browsing rather put the two of them in the same boat tonight - although he suspected that the other wizard had come to the shop without aiming to buy a record. Sometimes all you needed was a good idea of what looked good enough to invest in at a later point. And sometimes you simply wanted a shiny new press for your dwindling collection. An alarming analogy.

Virgil leaned forward slightly, reaching over to tug at the quiz sheet between them while he listened to Sasha. He snorted softly at the doodled non-answers.

          "I'm not very well-versed in ... this... struck up conversation with a few...nothing more then that."

"Lucky for you, I'm extremely well-versed." Virgil reached into his jacket breast pocket and brought out a quill. "Although..." he began scribbling down song titles, glancing up to give Sasha a quick once-over, "... I don't imagine the same methods would derive similar results."

Naturally, he didn't reveal that he had never actually brought someone home from The Closet. Virgil had certainly flirted with a good deal many, however, and he counted every one of the three men who had pleasantly shoved him against the cloakroom wall for a good necking on separate occasions.

"Do you have a type?" he lowered his quill and fixed Sasha with a meditative stare. "You look like the sort who'd buy dinner first, so I think we can cross out half of tonight's demographic." Virgil gestured to himself, meaning the obvious end to the means of his dressing.

Sasha watched, a grin spreading across his face as the other started scribbling down answers.  "I hear a little humility is good for the soul," he offered, with a slight shrug.  "Besides, if they do classical masters or operas next, I'll be just fine."  He took another sip, wrinkling his nose as a tentacle reached out from under the ice cube to splash at him. 

"Although...I don't imagine the same methods would derive similar results."

"Oh?" Sasha asked, curiously.  "What methods would those be."  Sasha had no doubt Virgil was correct in thinking his normal tactics would probably not be ones Sasha would enjoy using.  But, no one could say Sasha was likely to pass up an opportunity for education.  If nothing else, it would give him an idea of what tactics others might use on him.  "And, what are the results?"   

Did he have a type?  How did one know such things?  Slowly, his shoulders hitched up in a big shrug.  "Well, so far I've dated two Slytherins, an imaginary muggle and two squibs.  Well, one.  Maybe.  I'm not sure."  In retrospect, he couldn't really find any commonalities between them.  "They had hair.  And teeth.  They put up with me.  But-"  He had come to one dating conclusion.  "I think I'm done with purebloods," he added, dropping his voice slightly. 

            "Oh? What methods would those be. And, what are the results?"

Virgil smirked, winking at the other wizard and then returning to the sheet to scribble a final answer. He crumpled it up as Sasha rattled off a list of exes that fitted no other person alive, which was to say: it wasn't surprising. Instinct told Virgil that he might be better off asking about the 'imaginary muggle' when he had less gillyweed in him. There was probably a good story somewhere there.

He tossed the crumpled answer sheet into the air and quickly drew his wand, casting a very fine infligo that sent it whizzing through the air towards the top hat at the bar.

"You could aim higher than someone who puts up with you." Virgil turned his attention back to Sasha, tucking his wand behind his ear and returning to his cigarette. "And maybe don't go around asking if they're purebloods before you buy them a drink. Might get the wrong idea."

Being a pureblood himself, he didn't like to stereotype - but he could understand why someone who loved muggles might not be keen on wizarding aristocracy.

"Now, my method," he clasped a hand to his own chest and narrowed his gaze, "is to dress like I'm gagging for it, and chat up someone who looks like he's turned on by the archetype I've squeezed myself into. Pleasantries exchanged, banter and etcetera. The result..." Virgil paused to take a drag.

What was the result? Honestly, he was making this up as he went along. And digging himself into a bit of a hole right now. He blew out a smoke ring, blinking slowly as it drifted away. "The result is a shag, isn't it? Or closest thing to." That sounded like the truth.

He tapped his cigarette and focused on Sasha. His smile had turned a touch cynical.

"Funny, I think you've dated more people than I have."

Was there a more normal young adult-y way to spend a Monday afternoon then lingering in a bar, languishing over past failed attempts at relationships?  (Or the absence of relationships)  Sasha couldn't help but smirk, slightly, and shake his head at the irony of the situation.  Who would have ever guessed?

"And maybe don't go around asking if they're purebloods before you buy them a drink. Might get the wrong idea."

"I'm not a complete idiot," Sasha countered as he shook his head with a slight grin.  "That violates more then three of the basic rules of etiquette for social engagement.  My mother would box me upside the head."  Sasha shook his head, again, and settled back into his chair as the quiz organizer announced the next category: food and drink.  A slight improvement over popular music. 

Sasha took another slow sip of his drink as Virgil finally elaborated on The Virgil Method.  "That's why you're dressed like that?"  The alcohol was clearly starting to get to his head; his mother would have definitely boxed his ear for that one.  Of course, that would have been a distant secondary concern to visiting this club in the first place.  And, just because clarifying his statement had helped him out so many times in the past, Sasha couldn't resist elaborating: "I assumed it was like a fish.  You know, those ones that swim in murky waters?  Goldfish and betta and such.  They take advantage of ... whatever light ... nevermind." 

"So.  That's it.  A sh... just go home with someone.  Anyone  That's all you want?"  He knew that was half of the reason for bars existing in the first place but, he still had difficulty wrapping his head the concept.  He'd also never (at least knowingly) sat next to someone who had pursued and achieved that as their primary goal.   

Sasha shook his head, again.  "Isn't that-" he hesitated, fishing for the right word.  There were a lot of prospects, though most he wasn't inclined to voice aloud.  Sad.  Weird.  Pointless.  "Vulnerable?"  Sasha pursed his lips.  "No.  I'm not good at casual.  Anything." 

"Funny, I think you've dated more people than I have."

Sasha nearly snorted his drink across the table as he quickly pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and covered his mouth until he was able to safely swallow around the laugh.  All in all a surprisingly painful process.  "Are you counting Hannah?" Sasha asked, watching Virgil with a dubious grin.  "I - no.  This is probably an instance where quality counts more then quantity."  Of course, Sasha didn't know Virgil well enough to his dating record on either account.  "I mean, if a girl that broke up with me before I knew we were dating counts, so does a bar room fling."

            "I assumed it was like a fish.  You know, those ones that swim in murky waters?  Goldfish and betta and such.  They take advantage of ... whatever light ... nevermind." 

Virgil coughed on a cloud of smoked, laughing as he wiped away the tears at the corners of his eyes. A fish! This was soho, not whatever country club Schlagenweit condescended to visit in his leisure time. But maybe his logic wasn't entirely flawed. It was easier to grab attention in night clubs if you dressed up with a certain flair - and if you were young or pretty enough to get away with it.

"Call it a theatrical inclination." Virgil managed, after his fit of laughter. "It plays to the right audience."

After enough drinks or gillyweed it never mattered much anyway. The important thing was that he felt comfortable in his clothes, which reflected in body language and mannerisms: the actual attractions.

           "...go home with someone.  Anyone  That's all you want?" The concept appeared rather foreign to his former classmate. "Isn't that-" he blinked, skimming Sasha's thoughts quickly while the other wizard struggled to speak. Sad. Weird. Pointless. "Vulnerable?"

In his irritation, Virgil didn't hear the questions being called out for the food and drink round. It was all and well for the other wizard to think those things about promiscuous behaviours but it veered too much on the wrong side of judgemental, if not naive. He bit his tongue and indulged in another drag instead.

"I've only ever dated Emmylou," Virgil observed after listening to Sasha's account of his dating record. "So you do have me beat whichever way. Everyone else was a friend with benefits." And there were several friends in that vein, or at least there had been at Hogwarts. "I haven't actually had a bar room fling yet," he admitted dryly with a glance at the bar.

A few familiar faces lingered there, two or three wizards who would have happily acquiesced to pinning Virgil on his front. "Just some heavy petting in the backrooms, a few offers..." he shrugged and leaned back in his chair with a serious look in his eye. "It is vulnerable, isn't it? Like any drink or drug, giving up a dash of personal autonomy."

Nicholas was celebrating.  He'd finally gotten out of the Ministry and assisted an obliviator in the field.  Which meant he was on track to being done with training in a few more months.  He hadn't expected to see his flatmate and Sasha at The Closet on a Monday, especially Sasha.  Actually for that matter, he was surprised to see Sasha anywhere where fun was happening.  Or could happen.  Or might happen.  Or happened in the recent....or distant past.

Instead of making his way over to the table, he made his way to the bar.  Where he quickly acquired a tray with six shots of firewhiskey to share and a vodka tonic for himself.  He deftly made his way through the tables to where Virgil and Sasha were sitting. 

He caught the tail end of the conversation as he approached from behind them.  He set the drinks down, "You can always tie 'em up...," he said loudly and cheerily enough for a few heads to turn in his direction.  "And shots for everyone, courtesy of me and my first day in the field."  He added for the two men at the table; he didn't plan on buying everyone drinks.

An eyebrow hitched up in an otherwise-successful attempt to mask his surprise but the expression quickly morphed into a confused scowl.  He dropped his gaze to stare, pensively, at the ice cube which appeared to be rocking gently to waves created by the sea creature underneath. 

A moment ago, Virgil was making the whole affair sounds so casual.  So easy.  If that was the case, why hadn't there been any flings?  Something wasn't quite measuring up.  Briefly, Sasha shook his head before taking a sip of his drink. 

"I don't know.  Maybe I'm just-" 

"You can always tie 'em up...,"

Sasha jumped, slightly, and glanced up from the tray of drinks that had just appeared.  First Virgil, now Bevans?  What was this - a Hogwarts reunion?  Sasha took another sip as he felt the heat start to rise in his cheeks and shook his head, again.  All they needed was a former professor to come strolling over to round out the party. 

At least the former Gryffindor's arrival came with a topic change.  That was a welcome silver lining.

It was easy to forget that many of his classmates had already delved into adult lives with fledgling careers, especially with two months of school break both behind Sasha and ahead of Sasha.  "Did you get to use a neuralyzer?"  Sasha asked, with a grin.  Bevans was a fellow muggleborn (as far a they knew); Sasha was really hoping he'd seen Men In Black. 

If Virgil wasn't dressed for his own purposes tonight, he might have cried out in mock disgust when his flatmate surprised the pair of them with a tray of shots. Nick dressed liked he was trying to compliment and insult himself at the same time. Somehow. It would have been remarkable if it didn't make Virgil want to burn his wardrobe. Flush the ashes down the club toilets.

"Split those shots between yourselves," he pushed the tray away and stubbed his cigarette out in Sasha's dwindling cocktail, narrowly avoiding miniature tentacles. "Smoked a joint earlier and I'm not mixing tonight. Got to keep my wits about me if I'm the one getting tied up, right?"

Handcuffing blokes to bed posts was not on Virgil's long list of interests; he exerted enough verbal competency not to want to make it up with physical dominance - or whatever the psychology behind that indicated. Sasha's muggle reference went right over his head, so he reached for another cigarette and skimmed some of the minds around them who had been attracted by Nick's commotion.

"Redhead at the next table over, by the way -" he lifted his wand with a flame. "- making eyes at you two." Virgil breathed in and glanced over his shoulder at a boy a little older than them sat not far from their table, with a group of peers. "If either of you get bored, later."

He looked back at Nick and Sasha, lifting his free hand to pop off an imaginary gunshot.