Truth be told, there was only so much friend-dodging a friend could take.  Gone were the days when Sasha could hide his friends behind stories of going to school in another country.  When Anton had caught wind of some group adventure, he'd used Facebook to crowd-source a guilt-trip and played on his friend's dependence on chivalry to secure himself an invitation.  Even last-minute mumblings about plan changes weren't going to thwart him; if Sasha was either ashamed of him or his friends, then he could just come out and say so. 

Until then, Anton was determined to tag along with the relentlessness of a hungry leech and just assume Sasha was being his weird, awkward self.  And, really, it was a good thing he'd taken the leech-up-the-nostril approach because, if he hadn't been right at Sasha's side, he would have missed the place.  He even half-suspected that had been Sasha's intent, but that just seemed excessively rude for a guy that still wore blazers with handkerchiefs to pub crawls. 

"No lift?" Anton asked, as he followed Sasha through the plywood-enforced door and to the rickety stairs.  "For the best, I suppose.  Probably would be too extreme-sports for even my tastes."  What he really wanted to ask was how Sasha was friends with someone who lived in a place like this.  Not that Anton minded - he just wasn't accustomed to the other straying so far outside their usual social circles. 

He was impressed. 

Voices behind them and voices ahead of them suggested they weren't the only ones here - a positive sign - as they reached the fifth floor and Sasha led the way into a very small and very interestingly decorated flat[1].  A handful of people were already there, but it was clear Sasha was faltering on the introductions front.  Unless Anton was mistaken, Sasha was looking as awkward as a lion whose lioness caught him eating a cucumber. 

Grinning broadly and patting the other reassuringly on the back, Anton approached the nearest group.  If all these folks were schoolmates, Anton would have his work cut out for him.  No reason to beat around the bush; he just needed to dive in, head first.  "Tall blokes plus one," Anton offered with a cheeky grin, nodding in Sasha's direction as if showing his credentials.  "Heard you all were a fun crowd and had to see for myself.  Any of you the host or know where I should put the beer down?"[2]

1.	Figaro's Flat
2.	Feel free to already be there and in the group or arrive later!

A cheer went up from the knot of people when two more revelers entered the compact little apartment.  Figaro Sellaphix had tipped his bed against the wall to make more space. He'd cleaned the place up really well and strung some lights. Classy, right? Any extra junk was stuck in the cauldron which he'd shoved into the fireplace. Even though this was just the pre-game location, he wanted to avoid any accusations that his life was a mess.

"Eyyyy! Sasha!"

The 'host', as he was, was on the postage stamp balcony with a bottle in his hand in a bawdy argument about Xavier Tawse and Peyton Wentworth. But he was interrupted by hearing his name hollered.

"Fig, Sasha's here!"

Figaro nudged his way through towards the door and sure enough there stood Sasha, in all his Sasha-ness, and a some other kid Figaro didn't recognize. Figaro had clearly gotten started on his birthday early and draped his old school mate in a hug.

"Sasha! You're not dead!" he crowed after he'd released him.

"He's not dead," Figaro explained to the other guy, putting his free hand on Anton's shoulder and pointing a few inches away to Sasha..

"Got a hag to knock that curse off you? Good lad! Took my advice. How the hell are you! You can just put that anywhere. "

Happy Coincidence? Fate? Dumb luck?

Whatever you wanted to call it, it seemed that Xavier had chosen the right time to try and reconcile with an old friend. As he walked up the many flights to Figaro's flat, present in hand, he rehearsed what he was going to say. Truth be told Xavier wasn't in the best of places these days. Although he was now used to the ins and outs of his business and was settling in to the daily grind, any time away rarely saw the young man sober. It wasn't as if this was a new problem. Xavier was well known for drinking his troubles away, even as a young teenager. The only difference this time, was that he seemed to be fresh out of people that cared if he came back from the abyss.

The door was ajar when he reached Figaro's and he could hear hearty voices coming from within. He mentally chided himself. It was a Saturday night and the day after Figaro's birthday, of course they'd be celebrating. He had no idea who they were, but he felt as if he had already come too far to turn around.

Xavier slipped inside and nodded to those that recognized him. Happy to see that not everyone looked at him with disgust. He knew he still had a long way to go to make people forget about the right arsehole he had been in school. He caught sight of Figaro deeper in the room, standing with Sasha and some bloke he didn't recognize. Taking a deep breath he approached the trio, "'Appy Birfday, mate." He held out the present[1] like a peace offering with as charming a smile as he could muster, hoping Fig wasn't going to turn around and throw him out.

He clasped Sasha on the shoulder, "All right there, Sasha?" Since school had ended his relationship with the former Ravenclaw had become . . . amicable. He had taken a few driving lessons with the other man now and had been good enough at it to pass his muggle driving tests.

1.	The present could be anything really, money would be no object

Saturday evening had arrived and the flat was relatively full of people, many of whom Moira didn't recognize so she was glad when Sasha walked into the flat,  though she didn't know the bloke with him.

Several days ago a letter from Figaro Sellaphix had arrived at the McBoid farm inviting the witch to a birthday bash. Normally Saturdays were work days but with an advanced notice Moira had been able to take the afternoon off.

Parties were normally something to avoid, crowds of people still bothered Moira at times. However, this was to celebrate Fig's birthday and he was a friend. Moira didn't have many friends, not something she worried about, and the few she did have she would do almost anything for.

Figaro had also been through quite a nightmare the past several months. First his mom had been possessed and then he was accused of being a thief[1]. All of that had been cleared up. He had every right to celebrate.

Finishing off her drink, Moira pushed herself up off the wall to go say hi noticing Xavier Tawse had arrived too. He had gone to give their host a gift and she made her way to Sasha.

"Glad to see you here," she said before looking to Anton. "From college?"

1.	With Sarah's permission!

She had considered not going at all.

It seemed weird to go to someone's birthday celebrations when you had just been questioning them in the very same room about two weeks ago, in an air of distinct social discord. But all her other friends were going to be here today and there was no way Raine would let Figaro's presence deter her from having a good time with people who actually mattered.

She slipped into the tiny flat, nose wrinkling in distaste at the number of people being crammed in. Why did they even choose this place? There were nicer places.

"Happy Birthday, Sellaphix," Raine muttered as she joined the birthday boy's group - enunciating his surname especially well. "You made it another year!" she smiled artificially before glancing around at the others. McBoid and Sasha and Tawse. A few others in the background.

Seeing Xav was always such a surprise and her attention lingered on the former Slytherin for a moment. "Tawse, I thought you went into hiding after Queen G's bachelor vote -" she raised a fiery eyebrow at him, remembering their last interaction, "- I guess that's why Yukawa was hounding you in Spellpunk, huh?"

For starters, Sasha had made the faux pas of bringing a muggle to a wixes' party.  And now, a tipsy Figaro was very loudly rejoicing Sasha's continued existence like it was some major, exciting accomplishment.  He could have done without the ruckus scene under normal circumstances, now it just added to the awkwardness of giving the flat-owner a head's up before someone went and cast a confetti-charm or something. 

"Why would I be -" he started to ask just as Fig draped him into a hug.  He returned the hug with awkward enthusiasm (so he thought), decidedly ignoring the energetic thumbs up from his muggle tagalong.  He'd completely forgotten about hags, poker or curses within a day of that eventful game - the card in question had long since been buried in some desk drawer, underneath a graphing calculator.  But, with the less-than-subtle reminder from Fig in a now hag-free zone, he smiled cheekily. 

"Ja, no.  All good.  My paladin spent a day at a chapel and is officially curse free.  Got a +1 in Mana for his efforts!"

A line that was timed perfectly with the arrival of Xavier, Moira and Raine.  "I'm good, how are you?" he returned to Xavier, with a grin.  Sasha was realizing his opportunity for a subtle friendly introduction was quickly fading.   And, now, Anton was grinning with a familiar eagerness at the prospect of so many people to meet. 

"Ja, Happy Birthday, Fig.  Hope you don't mind bringing along a friend - he heard about the get together and refused to miss out on an opportunity to meet my other friends.  Anton Schäfer.  We were roommates at my old school, but stayed at Ethelburga's when I transferred schools." 

He hoped at least someone was sober enough to connect the dots. 

Figaro had enough time to look between Sasha and Anton with furrowed-brow confused look. Why did he never have any idea what Sasha was talking about? With the gathering growing, nearing the tipping point, Figaro didn't have time to ask for clarification. At least his friend seemed cool.

"Get a drink," he told them both. He clapped Anton on the arm again and moved on as Moira took over the Sasha-sitting.

Xavier Tawse for one! Figaro greeted him with a shout. "I was just talking about you, mate! Oh shit!"

Xavier handed him what was clearly a bottle wrapped in brown paper. Fig tore it open and then beamed at the former juvenile delinquent. It was some top shelf tequila.

"You're brilliant. Hey, get something to drink. Hey, lighten up. Everyone's here."

If there had been anything sour between them (and ho, boy, there had been) it was gone and forgotten. School was over, Xavier was a billionaire apparently, and there was no time to dwell on past youthful follies. It was time to make more of them.

He might have spoken with Xavier more but someone nudged him to see who'd just walked in.

"Oh, come on!" he said, the picture of annoyance. Who'd invited Raine Almasy to this thing? At least there were plenty of non-Ministry witnesses in the building. He hadn't advertised his row with Raine, and he wasn't going to ruin a perfectly good party by setting her off again. Although, bloody hell, it was on the tip of his tongue. Fig was as resolved as she was not to have her ruin the night for him. He just had to keep a few warm bodies between them. An enemy sandwich.

"No thanks to you," he grumbled and found someplace else to be other than right by the door. He needed a bigger apartment; not by the door was still in the same room.

"Ye were talkin' 'bout me?" Xavier's apprehensive expression split into a wide smile when Fig accepted his gift and greeted him like there had never been any bad blood between them. He felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He wasn't sure how Figaro was going to react to him showing up unannounced like this, especially given that there seemed to be a birthday party happening. He was thankful that his former best friend was in a good mood. He made a note to get himself to get something to drink as soon as he was done with some more polite conversation. (Granted, it wasn't as if he had come sober)

His attention was brought back to Sasha and the unknown next to him. Although he was still getting to know Sasha (despite having known each other for nearly a decade) he was able to pick up on key words in his introduction of Anton. Words like, my other friends and my old school. From what he could gather, Xavier had a good idea that the other blonde was a muggle. Sweet Salazar, this was going to be a fun night.

"Cheers, mate." He said in greeting to Anton before adding, "Oi, I passed me driver's test." Obvious pride beamed across his face, "Sasha 'ere's bin teachin' me ta drive." He did his best to clean up his Scottish accent for the young German, without reverting completely to his more posh Londoners accent.

His brow furrowed at Figaro's reaction to someone he obviously didn't want there arriving. He was surprised to see that it was Raine. Not that he didn't expect the Auror Trainee to show up but he was surprised that Fig didn't want her there. He'd definitely have to ask about that later.

"Tawse, I thought you went into hiding after Queen G's bachelor vote - I guess that's why Yukawa was hounding you in Spellpunk, huh?"

To Xavier's credit he actually blushed, "Aye, well I'm jus 'appy it 'ad nuthin' ta do wit me 'back from thee dead' Fatha or me 'illegitimate' siblin's. Bein' voted fer Most Smoochable Bachelor, was a nice change o' pace."

"Happy birthday to me....!" he sang softly to himself as he sauntered down the passageway towards Figaro's flat. "Happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear Virgiiiiiil....! Happy birthday to meeeeee..."

Virgil Carstairs continued humming the tune to himself as he entered the flat with great flourish, brandishing a bouquet of pink paper flowers still sparkling with live magical flames.Nothing but the best from Floriblunders Florist.

His sunglasses were propped up in a mess of blonde locks and he smelled strongly of his usual vanilla cologne. A camera was slung over his shoulder, the strap overlapping a pretty body chain. With a smile that tugged on the corners of a sulky mouth, he cut through the crowd straight for the other birthday boy of the hour.

"Figaro! Figgy! Lover of figs!" Virgil thrust the flowers into the Hufflepuff's hands, leaning in for a quick kiss on either cheek. "Happy happy happy birthday to you!" he laughed maniacally and reached into his pocket for a joint of gillyweed, which he presented. "I am extremely high right now, so sorry, not sorry, but this is for you. Smoke it as liberally as your newspaper uses adjectives."

The fuzzy corners of his consciousness were slowly coming into focus and he gave himself a shivery shake, looking around at the other groups. This was a small flat. Didn't he read that in Fig's mind once? It sounded like something he would do.

"Are we ready to get this crawl growing?" he drew out his wand, a fire coming to life at the tip as he offered to light the joint. "I'm absolutely dying for a butterbeer."

Nicholas moved over to the new arrivals.  He might have been arguing with Fig about the finer points between his boyfriend and his boyfriend's half-brother.  And if he'd shared more than he should about the rising quidditch star it was the gillyweed's fault.  Or the vodka he'd had before he left the flat.

"Xavier!  I would have voted for you.  But I had to support—Virgil!  Where are my flowers?"  He pouted.  Even though he'd had a more low-key celebration on his actual birthday.  It was his birthday month too.  "Sasha, who's the guy?"  He shouted around Fig and Virgil.  "Did you bring a stripper?  Best Birthday Gift Ever!"

(M for language

Honestly, this was verdammt awesome!  Anton would have never guessed Sasha's circle of cohorts would have been such a delightful mishmash of weirdos.  He'd, honestly, been expecting some extension of their usually china-using, polo-playing, sauna-aficionado, boring-as-fuck rich pricks.  From the decor to the company, that was clearly far from the case.  The host, apparently, had an Annie-orphan-meets-MacBeth vibe going on and some guy dolling out rich gifts was on shoulder-clapping terms with Sasha and the red heads were their usual moody selves. 

They could have been a Simpsons episode, if they were all a little more jaundiced. 

But, apparently, somethings never changed as he overheard Sasha talking Dungeons and Dragons with a friend.  After the predictably peculiar introduction his friend offered, Anton turned his attention to the cute mousey girl who was asking about university.  "Yeah - we both ended up at Cambridge; guess he grew tired of the Swiss.  But - we go way back.  Rumor has it, we were telepathically choreographing dance routines before we could talk.  My mum has photographic evidence.  Were you in Appenzell, as well?" 

"Cheers in return," Anton offered the man that gifted booze (a detail to remember for future reference) or Xavier, as Sasha identified.  Who, apparently, employed the mousey girl, Moira as the blazer-wearing audiobook footnotes explained in whispered German.  "Congrats on the driver's test!  Next step, the autobahn.  My father's got a revved up Porsche, if you ever want to give it a real go." 

He was about to ask Moira the Mouse if she'd be interested in an Autobahn excursion, as well, when the indoor party was joined by two delightfully un-Sasha like weirdo pals.  To further his delight, they brought with them the best misunderstanding.  "You spoiled the surprise too soon!" he laughed, glancing at Sasha.  "You're still paying me," he insisted, moving to free himself from his shirt before laughing at the horrified look on his friends face and relenting. 

"No, man - old friend.  Anton," he offered, pointing first to Sasha and then himself.  "He brought me along.  I gave him no choice.  But, bar hopping!  There's a grungy little place a few miles from here and it's 80s night!  You probably already known this, being close friends and all, but Sasha does a mean Madonna impression.  At least, he did before puberty - but it's a good place to start."  He ignored the unflattering response mixed in with the others, figuring he knew it's source given the lovely lilt of German. 

"We should be able to all fit in the Land Rover, if we don't mind getting cozy.  Some of you look scrawny enough to sit on laps!" he voiced, shamelessly offering his best friend's vehicle. 

"Figaro! Figgy! Lover of figs! Happy happy happy birthday to you! I am extremely high right now, so sorry, not sorry, but this is for you. Smoke it as liberally as your newspaper uses adjectives."

Figaro had never received such an enthusiastic greeting from the perennially sleepy Virgil before, but it wasn't exactly a surprise nor was it unwelcome. He accepted both and returned the crow of birthday wishes. "Thanks!"

Nick complained for lack of floral tribute, but Figaro wasn't giving his up.

"Can't have mine!" he called. "Finally, something to class up this joint. Speaking of." He tucked the bouquet under his arm, then used his wand to light the gillyweed. He had overheard snatches of conversation from Anton about Sasha's, um, colorful past and something called a land rover, and it was all so bizarre Figaro had to assume it was some German thing? It would certainly be something to address when Sasha needed to be taken down a peg, that sweet sweet strudel bun.

Holding the gillyweed join in his teeth like a too-small nubbly cigar, Figaro threw up his hands. "S'go!"

Figaro singled out Moira. "Mo! Le's go!"

Moira didn't join the others in wishing Figaro a happy birthday. Well wishes had been given on her arrival, she having arrived before anyone else, and the host insisted they take celebratory shots to get things started. Thinking it was a little preemptive she still obliged.

Listening to Anton's explanation about how he and Sasha knew each other, Moira couldn't help but notice the exchange between Raine and Fig. The tension there couldn't be helped but so long as they stayed on opposite ends during their 'crawl' hopefully things would be alright and not escalate into anything troublesome.

"Appenzell?" Moira had never heard of such a place before. Perhaps that was the made-up name Sasha had given Hogwarts to tell his muggle friends? "Um, yes?"

Virgil's arrival, very theatrical in her opinion, might have been a blessing in disguise for a change in moving things forward. Moira had been about to ask Anton what a Land Rover was when Figaro called out to her. An endless series of questions probably would have come up if she asked. Naturally, him being a muggle most of his terminology would be lost on her.

"Alright, Fig. After you."

It was hard to tell if anyone had gotten Sasha’s drift.  Either, they’d totally missed it and were carrying on like normal, or they’d picked up on it and were carrying on like normal.  The ‘like normal’ was the only common element between those two theories.  But, Sasha really didn’t want another visit from Auror Fauna and explaining the delivery mishap would be easier to explain than why he intentionally brought a muggle to a wizards’ birthday party. 

Even if ‘lighten up’ was almost always an apt recommendation for this former Ravenclaw, under the circumstance, a clear head was a good idea.  “Yeah, no.  Maybe not yet.”

He turned his attention to Xavier with a broad grin.  “Congratulations!  I mean, I had no doubts.  Once you got the parallel parking down, it seemed smooth sailing.”  However, he couldn’t help but quickly add: “you may want to reconsider the Autobahn offer.” 

He left Xavier to talk with Fig about some sort of bachelor vote and turned to shadow Anton as he weaved through the cluster in search of something entertaining.  Which, he was finding (not unsurprisingly) with Nicholas.  That was a dangerous combination.  “That!  Not a stripper!” he insisted, after Anton introduced himself.  “We were roommates in school before I transferred to my new school.  He stayed on at Queen Ethelburga’s, though we’ve kept in touch.”  Really, guys!  Read between the lines, please!  How much more obvious could he make it. 

“Wait - we’re all going in my car?” Sasha asked, catching on to the fact that Anton had offered it up and … well, Fig and Moira were already falling in line.  “I … sure.  It’s just down the block.  A few might have to sit in the back - just … don’t be too obvious.  I don’t want to get pulled over."

"Don't stop on his account," Nicholas said as Sasha's friend—Anton—stopped before taking off his shirt and introduced himself.  "But seriously, next year.  Stripper."  He said loudly to the room and laughed.  Why did Sasha always have to step in just as things were going to get fun?  He may not have been as much of a buzzkill as Josh had been but then he'd never had to share a dorm with Schlagenweit.  Seriously though, when hot friends want to strip you don't interrupt.  Unless its with galleons.

"Wait, why are we going in a car? Why do you even have a car?"  Surely mister have-to-know-it-all could apparate.  "If someone," no need to call out the slacker who couldn't apparate, "can't apparate we can always side-al—"  He clamped his hand over his mouth and his eyes went wide as it clicked into place what he'd ignored when Sasha started talking about schools.  Anton was a friend from before Hogwarts.

Since when did they start bringing muggles to wizard parties.  There were plenty of people Nicholas would love to reconnect with and go bar hopping with.  Though they were in university.  And he couldn't exactly explain why he wasn't.  He coughed and looked around at the others.  Had he missed the memo?  "Um, yeah car sounds great."

He looked at Anton, "You're welcome to sit in my lap,"  doing his best to distract from his previous apparation comment.  That was his job, even if it normally involved his wand not his..."Or I'll sit in yours, if that's how you prefer it."