Directly following the kerfuffle in We Are Young. Out on the balcony of Virgil, Nicholas, and Ariadne's flat. About 10pm on New Years Eve, 2011.

They were still in earshot of the others, and Fauna was asking terrible questions. Moving quckly she placed a hand over Figaro's mouth to prevent any comprehensible speech. "Not here."

Guiding them both outside and onto the balcony, not really caring about his lack of clothing, she firmly shut the door behind them.

Crossing her arms she leaned back against the railing. "Alright, Mr. Logorrhea. Tell her why you're mad at me."

Figaro allowed himself to be ushered out by the two other Hufflepuffs, his party-time mood now tainted with a streak of nasty sass. He'd been aware of the Logorrhea working but that it must be fading. Not that it mattered. Logorrhea told the truth - why should he be sorry, huh?

Unexpectedly, Moira demanded he be out with it. He crossed his arms over his bare chest in the cold and looked between her and Fauna.

"She's a snitch," he said, directing his answer to Fauna. "When things got hairy, suddenly Mo McBoid knows how to sing a song. And it's a load of rubbish that I'm the one eating shit over it."

He'd told Fauna about this before. Sort of. A few weeks ago.[1] Then, Fauna'd been sympathetic. Not that it had mattered. He'd clammed up and they'd moved on, and he'd hoped to just forget about it. But here they were.

"I'm sick of it. She's not perfect."

1.	16 Dec 2011 - Damn Rough Life

"Cold!" Fauna announced as she stepped outside onto the balcony, glancing at the two other former Hufflepuffs as the door shut ominously behind all three of them. Her stomach flopped uneasily. She crossed her arms against the chill and frowned down at her party dress. This was how people got sick, Moira!

"You don't have to," she glanced at Fig. "I was just-"

A snitch. Moira was a snitch? She seemed to know what Fig was talking about, at least, enough to drag them out here. Fauna thought back to the start of the party. Raine hadn't hexed Fig for anything yet, no one was singing yet, and she could only imagine their argument had happened before she'd arrived or sometime before the party itself.

Fig's words, his phrasing, felt strangely familiar though.

"Well right, I know she's not perfect. I don't think Moira even likes me, but that's ok," Fauna turned her head and widened her eyes at Moira as the words spilled out. "Um, did something happen before the party? When did things get hairy?"

Why was she asking so many questions and standing out here when it was none of her business? She couldn't seem to help herself.

Fauna exclaimed about how cold it was, but at the moment she barely felt it. Her own anger, still kept in check, was simmering and bubbling beneath the surface; a pent up frustration with no convenient outlet.

The wide-eyed look confirmed Moira’s suspicions about Fauna’s drink having been spiked as well. Why in Merlin’s name did Fauna think she wasn’t liked? Sure, she didn’t know the other girl very well but that didn’t mean anything. Maybe later they would talk about it. Now there was another matter to try and settle.

“Perfect.” She snorted. “Whatever gave you that impression?” The question was entirely rhetorical. Not responding directly to Fauna’s questions she looked at Sellaphix again, hoping she could catch on.

“Don’t talk to me about you getting a mouthful over this. I told one person,” that was a lie. She’d told Sasha as well but that didn’t need to be mentioned. He wouldn’t say anything. “From what I’ve heard, he’s only told my uncle and no one else knows you were even involved. My name’s being whispered all over Level Two, linked to the attack, and probably well outside the walls of the Ministry. You know how rumors are.”

Figaro watched Moira, agape.

"Stop talking about it!" he moaned loudly. He glanced at Fauna and, for some reason, over the edge of the balcony to the courtyard below.

"We're not supposed to be talking about it. Why is that hard for you? All you had to do was not talk about it."

He thrust his hands into his hair. Figaro hated this. He hated being angry. He was almost never angry. Things just didn't bother him like that. He got loud, sure. Irritated, indignant. Put out, even, especially on the unfun end of mundane or magical assaults (which he did or didn't initiate). But he'd been so so angry at Moira. (And Kurby) And he was still, apparently, clearly still very angry with her.

"I know how rumors are which is why you weren't supposed to tell anyone I was there! How is it that I'm able to shut up and you aren't? I'd never do that to you! And I haven't by the way."

Figaro rubbed his face in his hands. He needed something to drink, something to flush the rest of the Logorrhea out. It should be on its way, but damnit if he didn't feel about to burst.
 

Moira rolled her eyes, “I’m not the one blowing up about it in a room full of people, having thought it was a good idea to ingest a ‘truth drink’.”

She had fully intended to ignore his presence the whole night as soon as she saw he was there. Considering it was a party and New Years and just about everyone was invited it wasn’t so surprising. But then his truthful mouth just had to open up and cause a scene.

Glancing past her two fellow housemates at the door she wondered how easy it was to listen through. It was too cold outside for any sane people to be out, but Sellaphix’s glance to the ground wasn’t incorrect.

Subtly pulling out her wand she mumbled, "Muffliato,"[1] pointing at the door and their surrounding area before putting her wand away again.

“No one is talking about you, Sellaphix. No recent rumors regarding you or anything else that happened that evening. Just that I set up the alarm and what happened at the zoo. My only regret is not sending up red sparks right away.”

At this, Moira cast Fauana a somewhat guilty look.

1.

Muffliato

Moira's name, whispered around Level Two, linked to the attack. Rumors. Blame. Who knew what, who had said what.

Fauna glanced at Fig quickly. Fig's anger, his story matched the one he'd told her several weeks ago on their walk to Diagon. Could it be the same betrayal? He'd felt betrayed by a friend, and it sounded like Moira had given up Fig's name to someone in authority.

Moira flicked her wand, and the air around the balcony made a slight popping sound, muffling their conversation. Fauna remained still and stunned.

The zoo. Red sparks. The alarm.

Fauna gaped at Moira, hearing her but not fully understanding her guilt.

"You were there," she said quietly, with feeling. She ran her hand across her mouth, shaking her head. She knew this already. So much had yet to sink in. Who had questioned Moira? Why were there so many secrets? She shifted her weight slightly to her heels, bringing her closer to the glass doors of the balcony.

"You..." she gestured at Fig, confusion flickering over her face. "You were both there? The night of the full moon. Near the park, by the zoo."

She felt like she was talking in riddles. The park, the zoo, the moon, the stars. The words spilled out of her mouth, heavy with dread. She kept one arm crossed, subconsciously hiding the scar on her forearm. They'd spotted the werewolf, the one Tawse had set loose on the muggles.

They'd been in such danger.

Recent rumors!? What the hell did that mean, 'recent'? She'd just put him at the scene. It was out now. Fecksake her uncle knew.

"Stop...!" Figaro moaned again, just dumbfounded Moira was doubling down and laying it all out.

Didn't she know how hard this was for him, to bite his tongue, to keep this all to himself? That the only person he could really talk about this with was Kurby Bagnold who'd, rightfully, sworn him to secrecy. But what did promises of secrecy mean anymore, he thought bitterly. If he calmed down, he'd accept responsibility for taking a massive swig of Logorrhea, but Moira had lied to him. She'd freaked out and hung him out. He had to get blind-sided by a steaming mad werewolf hunter and have the murder of muggles shoved in his face. But she wouldn't just stop, and now Fauna knew and that was the last thing he needed. She was a good friend but she was also MLE. His mum's voice rang in his ears. Don't Talk to Aurors.

As Fauna got the picture, asking for answers with so much tension in her face, Figaro just kept his mouth firmly shut and shook his head. Not in response to her questions but in a desperate, dedicated decision not to bollocks this up.

"We are not talking about this," he hissed to both of them after a moment, holding up a finger. His respose was already confirmation enough. "We -"

He paused again, almost silenced by how angry he was. He didn't want Fauna to know this. He didn't want anyone to know this. The 'Sellaphix' name needed to be as far away from the Ministry as possible, and the more people knew the more people would blame him.

"We are not talking about this. Just stop, Merlin's sake. If you say one more word..." He massaged the space between his eyes. He could not even.

Figaro proceeded to grow angrier and closer to exploding. In response Moira seemed to become more still, as if she were trying to become an ornament on the railing she was leaning against. Her eyes were steel. Waiting.

Moira didn’t directly respond to Fauna, though she watched her too and hoped the other Hufflepuff knew she was listening. She saw the older girl hide the scar on her arm, the look of shock and horror on her face. It caused a cold feeling to grow in the pit of her stomach.

                                                                 "If you say one more word…"

Oh really? Would he hex her if she didn’t stop? A small part of her almost wanted him to and not because it would give her a reason to retaliate. If Sellaphix did pull his wand on her, which she doubted, Moira would do nothing. She couldn't say the same for the third member of their mini party, of course.

Still, the challenge had been issued. Not content to roll over, let things be, and have the selfish brat dictate fully how this little meeting would play out like last time she spoke up one last fact he seemed unable to put together. "Fauna was there."

Moira waited a few moments. "But it's fine, go back inside. Your anonymity will still be safe and I'll be fed to the wolves if need be." She really didn't mind it this way, understanding about his family and the Ministry. Taking the fall wasn’t the hard part, it was dealing with his reaction and apparent lack of concern.

Casting a quick glance at Fauna, she frowned subtly. She really wanted to talk to her before they went back inside and joined everyone again. She owed her an apology at the very least.

M - for language

---

Fig's frustration rolled off him in waves, and Fauna wanted to tell them both to shut up and start making sense. She had to know. Were they ok? Was Moira really ok? Was Fig?

It reminded her of a night long ago, just after a full moon, when she hadn't asked that question first of someone else.[1] But at Fig's empty threat, she moved, not quite consciously, into the space between Fig and Moira. She wasn't worried about words. She worried that Moira might hex him first.

She should have been worried about words.

"Fauna was there."

Turing fully towards her, Fauna stared, blinking in shock. Moira said something else, some snippy little thing directed at Fig. Fauna barely heard it. Her eyes widened in indignation and horror.

"What the fuck? Moira!"

She gestured at her, her every movement tense. "I- you-"

How did she even know? The owl? What the hell!

"I can't talk about that," she hissed desperately, pressing a hand to her own mouth and shaking her head. Was there an echo out here?

1.	Not just a flesh wound

Fauna was there.

Figaro was shocked silent. Fauna was where? At the zoo? Where the muggles had been killed with the Direwolf and Cinead Tawse? What did Moira mean Fauna was there? Why would Moira say that?

Fauna reacted first and Figaro just gaped at them. He looked back and forth between them and then pressed his fists onto his forehead covering his eyes. He had no idea how this had escalated so quickly. Wait. No. He did. Moira. Figaro just couldn't understand why she'd blab his business in front of Fauna right here at a party, or why she'd say that about Fauna. Fauna who was clearly livid.

Figaro connected the dots about their coded venting that late night, but he honestly couldn't emotionally process the implications that he and Moira's delay reporting the werewolf could have affected Fauna's safety. Nope. Not going to think about that. Not now, not here.

He lifted his finger, trying to say something. Starting and stopping his jaw a couple times. His whole body was tense as he tried to force a decent word out of his mouth, past the diatribe of nasty horrible things he had queued up.

"You're insane," was what he managed. "And I'm not doing this. I'm going inside before my nips freeze off."

He avoided Fauna's gaze, swallowed another breath and went inside.

Exit Fig

Moira gave Fauna another slightly guilty look when she turned on her. Lowering her voice she responded, “Sorry.”

Before she could say more Sellaphix interjected, and what he said she couldn’t disagree with. It was probably true. At least she had gotten him to stop groaning and whining and actually shut up.

Pretend like nothing happened and everything would go away. Don’t talk to anyone who also knows about it and they’ll forget you were there. Everything would go back to normal as the world kept revolving. Nothing worked like that.

All that caused was for things to fester and slowly cause more problems until one day years later it slammed into you like a freight train. It removed, even temporarily, the ability to cope and hold everything back. Sometimes it happened at extremely inopportune moments.

Bagnold said Fauna was okay to talk to, but clearly Blake didn’t get the same notice. Unsurprising.

“I am sorry, Fauna. I need to talk to you but I understand if you’d rather not. If you want to follow him inside, it’s okay. I know it’s cold.” And Moira knew that she wasn’t very good with people.

Fig left. Fauna glanced after him, both relieved and upset. He only knew now that she had been there, at the zoo that night, without any real context. He didn't know - he had to know not to spread it around, right?

Fauna was getting the feeling he understood that better than Moira tonight.

Cold. Cold!

"Cold," Fauna repeated, disbelieving. The guilty look on Moira's face tugged at her sympathies but wasn't enough to stem her anger.

"Moira," she took a breath, her words clipped. "I owled you to check in on you.[1] Not to give you free reign to tell people we were fighting for our lives out there." She shut her eyes for a second. Hadn't meant to say that. "If you don't appreciate me butting in, fine, but why - I mean, why would you do that?"

She hugged her arms to her again, glancing at the glass doors. If Moira had something to say, better say it quick.

1.	The waning moon

Moira continued to remain leaning back on the railing, unmoving even if parts of her were beginning to go numb.

Why? All she Moira could do was shrug one shoulder. Because Figaro was an ass who wouldn’t listen and didn’t care to maybe. Because she was still pissed off and hurt and thinking tended to be more difficult when emotions were involved.

Shit, this was why she worked with creatures and not people. Everything was so much simpler.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry for sending a delayed message about the werewolf. Bagnold told me the basics of what happened at the zoo after he finished questioning me. He also said you were okay to talk to because you knew but,” she shrugged her shoulder again. Seemed moot at this point.

“Now we’re all okay, though and it’s fine.” That’s what everyone wanted to hear, right?

Fauna peered at her, utterly confused. Moira had said she needed to talk, but now she seemed to retreat against the railing, shrugging as she spoke. What the hell, then? What was all that for?

She ran a hand through her hair, or started to, nudging aside the little string of gold stars she'd woven in. She let her hand drop, and sighed. Bagnold. That answered a question she hadn't been able to address, yet. Bagnold had been the one who had questioned Moira.

Had he questioned Fig as well? No no no, she didn't want to think about that.

"Are you?" Fauna scoffed, a thread of weariness in her tone. "Are you ok?"

She shook her head, looking out past the balcony and into the courtyard. "You said you needed to talk, but I don't understand."

Fauna didn't know why Moira was apologizing for being there. Moira had sent the message to the Ministry, but what did she mean by 'delayed'?

“Sure. I mean, I don’t dream of being helpless while people get eaten most nights now. Rarely wake up until morning.” Unlike the first week when she could barely sleep.

Moira moved her right hand slightly along the railing, using the cold to help her focus and tuck all those currently useless emotions away again. This wasn’t the place to be angry and hurt.

Besides, Fauna was right. She couldn’t just back out now.

“Before your owl arrived, I had received an official summons from Bagnold to report to the Ministry the next morning. Figaro got a visit at his flat later that evening after Kurby and I reached an… eventual understanding. I didn’t really want to talk to anybody at the time.“

She frowned and met Fauna’s gaze. “I am concerned about Tawse, though, and I’m not convinced we were in that park at just the right time by accident. Figaro is worried about blame and he can blame me. I don’t care. I care about next month.”