Fauna lumbered through the corridors, leaving a trail of snow and slush in her wake. Her winter jacket made a swish, swish sound every time she moved her arms, and as she reached the Hufflepuff common room she started to remove her damp mittens, hat, and scarf.

She opened the door and went inside to see Figaro lounging by the fire. It was around lunchtime, so this surprised her. Fauna slipped off her jacket as quietly as she could, and then threw a soggy mitten in his direction.

"Whoo!" She laughed as it beaned him in the head. It was the playful, annoying kind of thing that Figaro would do to any of his mates, and she just couldn't help herself. He needed the distraction anyway. She'd heard about the absolutely barmy Professor Storm's behavior and could only hope that he got himself sacked soon. This had nothing to do with the detention she, Chance, and Grace had suffered in his office, of course. Nothing at all.

Fauna flopped on the couch and took off her boots, putting them by the fire so they'd get warm and toasty. She tried to think of a decent story in case Figaro or her other housemates asked where she'd been. Disappearing for a few hours every Sunday had become a regular thing for her, so Fauna normally said she 'jogged' or 'visited Tulo', the second lie being partially true.

Today, her lesson with Tamis had gone well. Just well- not amazingly well or horribly awful. The Head Auror had been uncharacteristically distracted, and Fauna was grateful for it, because otherwise Tamis might have noticed something was not quite right with Fauna.

The problem was, Fauna almost wanted her to notice. She'd wanted to tell her about a hundred times that her own boyfriend, Devlin Matthews, was an animagus. That was how he'd gotten into St. Mungo's, with help from Kitty Li.

She kept telling herself that it wasn't important and that the Aurors didn't need to know. Yet she felt guilty. Fauna couldn't get it out of her head. Protecting him meant lying to someone who was very important to her. Coming clean meant betraying Devlin. She just couldn't win!

Figaro was reading boredly through some comicbooks about samurai warriors or somesuch.  He'd only just gotten up after a late night in the Commonroom and hadn't yet mustered the gumption to get up to lunch.  Their first week back had been...

Was insane a good descriptor? Two new professors, Ignan Storm in rare form.  Callum and Erin and Crew refreshed and ready for more arseholery and now news about Sasha that he just couldn't believe.

Fig was pooped and very happy to do nothing this weekend.

"Pbth!" A sopping wet cold hit him in the face, and he flung it back from the harpy from whence it came with a grin.  It went flying off past Fauna who was shucking her winter gear.  Figaro really liked the older Hufflepuff and always felt kind of proud that she liked him back.  October had been very awkward, yes, but that was old news.  She was with Devlin and Devlin was well... a friend, wasn't he? Far be it for Fig to dwell on a big misunderstanding.

"Lookatchou," he said by way of greeting.  "Have you heard about this? I think you might have gotten a glimpse of it - did you know there are mornings on Sundays? What are they like? How does one find them?"

She flopped over on the couch so that her feet hung over the edge of the armrest, and she put her hands underneath her head as she glanced at him. "Did you know that there's this thing called a sunrise? Supposedly, all these pretty colors streak across the sky, and some people even wake up then. Crazies," she grinned, glad to be back in the common room making silly conversation with Figaro, though she should really leave the jokes to him. Fauna only woke up at the crack of dawn for the direst of circumstances: a forgotten essay, or a desperate need to get away from people for a while.

"I'm pretty sure Sunday mornings are just like Monday mornings," Fauna half-sat up, peering over at the vibrant pages of his comic book. "Except we don't have to deal with evil professors out to poison us," she added with a shake of her head.

"Er... are things still super awkward between you and Sasha?" She asked sympathetically, understanding just how that felt. The Daily Prophet article had spread through the school like a rash of dragon pox, and though Fauna couldn't quite believe it, she hadn't bothered to approach Sasha and ask how he was yet, either.

Figaro adjusted himself on the gold-colored couch, bringing up his feet and knees to orient himself more towards Fauna, and even though he was still skimming over the Samurai Sorcerus, he was checked into their light conversation.

Which just got a little heavier.

Without looking up, Figaro's eyebrows lifted as he hissed in air through his clenched teeth.  "Tssss...you could say that..."

Not only had he and Sasha started things off wrong by confronting each other about the November Transfig Cheating Debacle, but Thursday's explosion in the Great Hall - it was all still fresh. 

"That guy's a mess lately.  I don't know what I can even say around him anymore," he said, and absently turned the page, not aware of how insensitive that sounded.  But it rang true.  Figaro was beginning to feel like he had no idea who Sasha was anymore.  Had he even known him before? He was indecipherable and closed off and lately Figaro couldn't take a step without trodding all over everything. 

Fig blinked and shook his head, as if to clear out the awkward that in the previous moments hadn't bothered him all Sunday long.  His smile returned and he shrugged.

"And are things still well sexysexy with you and Devlin?" he said, hoping a tease would quit all this serious talk.

Fauna nodded and looked at him, waiting for him to go on. His summary of the situation was accurate to her, because she had no idea what to say to Sasha either. Ever since the werewolf attack in October, they'd found ways to misunderstand each other, and now that he was dealing with something horrible like the death of his parents, she just found it easier to avoid the boy. It wasn't nice and it certainly wasn't an ideal reaction. But like Fig, whenever she opened her mouth she seemed to make matters worse.

She blinked at the change in subject, then gave him a wide-eyed look and flopped an arm over her face with a groan.

"We haven't had a chance to be sexy-sexy!" She mumbled into her sleeve, face flushing. Fauna suddenly hoped Fig hadn't heard that.

Fauna let her arm fall away from her face and sat up on the couch to put her chin in her hands. "I miss him," she admitted.

"With the whole trial and everything, and Snark not letting him come back, and... I guess things will be alright in the end, but I already can't wait for the next Hogsmeade weekend."

She bit her lip. A small part of the appeal in dating Devlin Matthews, Fauna had to admit, was the idea of dating him here, at school. She'd imagined them walking down the corridors hand in hand, and snogging in the broom cupboard, and complaining about professors and classes. Correspondence just didn't cut it.

Fauna's embarassment delighted Figaro, who made a triumphant sort of crow and nudged her with his foot. 
"Aaaahaaa!"

She'd hid her face and mumbled something, but her flushed cheeks seemed to tell the story.  "Like animals, you two," he joked.

But when she started waxing all smushy about missing him, Figaro furrowed his brows.  She meant she had missed him over holiday, right? That's when the couples missed each other, when they were torn away from Hogwarts and had to stay with families until January, school, and free broom-closet making out returned.

"Wait, what now? What trial? He's expelled? Jesus Christ, how many is that now?!" he laughed, incredulous.

"What the hell did he do?" Devlin got into some trouble at school with some academic dishonesty and dealing fake luck potions, things like that.  But he never got caught for it.  Figaro got caught for it.  And if anyone was going to take the fall for anyone it was Spade, whoever that was.

He sat way forward and held Fauna with his gaze making it clear he wanted the whole story, no mumbling or face-hiding. 

"You're telling me Devlin got expelled?  Devlin Matthews.  Kicked out. You're joking."



 

"Are you- Fig!" Fauna exclaimed, looking shocked. "Where have you been?"

She blinked at him. "Don't you ever read the Prophet?" Fauna imitated his posture and leaned forward, shaking her head with a strange sense of deja vu. They'd had this awkward conversation before, in the Fall, right after Ollie had been expelled.

"Anyway, he... Devlin... he got into some... trouble over the Hols," she began slowly, running a hand through her hair. It wasn't any easier to tell now, even though she'd had practice breaking the news to Ayla and a few other students.

"Um. I mean, he was caught breaking into St. Mungo's. He was-" she winced. "Someone paid him to give a 'gift' to Moira Randall. The Minister's girlfriend, yeah?" Figaro had to know about that relationship.

"Except it wasn't a gift. It was something connected to the whole big Runespoor thing. Someone wanted to make Randall look bad. But all Devlin knew was that... well, he wanted an extra galleon or two, you know? So he didn't think, and he did it, but he didn't know what it was."

She stared at him anxiously, willing him to believe her. The story sounded strange even to her and she could barely believe that Devlin had done something so uncharacteristic.

"So he's stuck at home now, and Snark's not letting him back in. I don't know if she'll change her mind later, either." The upsetting thing was that like the situation with Darcy, Fauna couldn't quite blame the Headmistress if she chose to stick to her decision. She hated it, but she could understand it.

Figaro threw his hands up as if to say, 'Nothing new!' Of course he didn't read the Prophet.  He'd never read the Prophet.  And now that articles about his dad were popping up from time to time, he certainly wasn't reading the Prophet.  And earlier this week, he'd read the Prophet about Sasha and that had gone very well, hadn't it!

But as Fauna stammered out the story, Figaro just starred at her, brows furrowed, incredulous and open-mouthed.  His first reaction was to laugh, but when she really got down to it, it wasn't funny at all.  It was lethally serious.  He'd gotten caught up in this Runespoor business - the same mess that had his dad facing Azkaban.  They could even lose the shop that had been in his family for generations if they couldn't keep the business going.  Runespoor was a big deal.  And messing with the Minister Annwyl's girlfriend? Not going to get much sympathy there.

So Figaro wasn't smiling.  He was shocked, and worried for Fauna. 

"Stuck at home? Isn't he like... going to Azkaban?"  Hogwarts seemed like the least of Devlin's worries, in Figaro's view.  "I can't believe this.  You've seen him? You've spoken to him? Crap, Fauna.  What are you gonna go?"

The normally chipper, make-a-joke-out-of-anything Figaro looked so grim-faced that it really caused the news to sink in for Fauna. Drawing back, as if trying to distance herself from the situation, Fauna paused and shook her head when he asked what she was going to do.

"Well, I'm not going to break up with him!" She said defensively, crossing her arms. Figaro hadn't even mentioned that, but it came up often enough in letters from her family that it was still on her mind.

"I mean, it'll all just blow over. He's home now 'cause he's waiting for a trial. But... but they can't send him to Azkaban," Fauna insisted. "He didn't know. It wouldn't be fair. It was all just a mistake!"

Merlin, if she had blurted out to Tamis how Devlin had gotten into Mungo's, he'd be in serious shite for sure. She had to keep it quiet, and hope that no one else would discover it.

And with that, her face crumpled and she burst into tears.

Fig drew back, ready with a quick apology, when Fauna lashed out defensively, that she wasn't going to break up with Devlin.  Maybe Figaro had been thinking it, and clearly Fauna had been thinking about it too.  It was just - how do you date someone who's in...

In no time at all, Fauna was talking louder and faster and before Figaro could take any preventative measures or prepare himself, he was faced with the demure, graceful Fauna sobbing loudly.  At him?

He felt like he'd accidentally started a fire on something very important, like some irreplacable bit of school essay.  He had to do something, put it out somehow, but couldn't you now, dump a bucket of water on it, or the whole thing would be ruined anyway.  He started to reach out for Fauna, with the gingerness of reaching to snatch something from near a flaming essay, ready to jump back at any sign of trouble.

"F-fauna, um, I didn't - um.  Sorry?"

Ohgodohgodohgodohgod! Turn it off, make it stop?

Figaro had no idea what his responsibilities were in this situation.  They were friends, but not best friends and certainly not boyfriend/girlfriends.  Did one hug now? Did one give some privacy? Did one simply wait. And stare?

Girls cried sometimes at school, and the guys quite a bit less often, and it was always weird and people looked away and best friends huddled up for protection.  Figaro had seen his mother cry and that was about the most terrifying thing that had ever happened to him.  Sasha had lost it on the train, but not in a sobbing... kind of way.  Crap, Fig had cried and nearly pooped his pants when Cinaed Tawse had attacked him.

He very, very carefully patted her twice on the shoulder with a flat hand, barely touching her.  Pat. Pat.

"S'okay, Fauna," he said, both very pleased and mortified that they were alone.

"Please, stop.  Just, Devlin - you know... please stop?"

Pat. Pat.

Fauna was almost as surprised as Figaro when she started crying out of nowhere. She lifted her hands to cover her mouth and wipe at her eyes, horrified that she was blubbering like a baby. An hour ago she'd been handling it just fine! A few weeks ago, she'd made it through an awkward holiday dinner with Greyfriar and Devlin, and even earlier than that, she'd survived the visit to the holding cells and Kurby Bagnold sniping at her in the Atrium.

Why the blooming heck did she have to break down now?

Ridiculous, she told herself harshly, barely aware of Fig patting her gingerly on the shoulder and apologizing.

"S-sorry!" she managed in return, catching a glimpse of the panic on his face.

Fauna tried to push back the sobs, but her shoulders still jumped with every stifled sniffle and intake of breath.

"Please, stop.  Just, Devlin - you know... please stop?"

"I know!" A tinge of despair colored her outburst, and on the end of it, she hiccuped.

"It's just- everything is so messed up, and-" Hiccup! "I can't- I just can't," Fauna paused and rubbed at her eyes. "I... I don't know what to do! I'm trying- to do- the right thing, but..."

"People keep telling me things that... and I have all this information, and... and I shouldn't be saying any of this, because... I just. I don't know. I don't know!" She gave him a miserable look and let out a half-hiccup, half-sob. 

Figaro continued to look mortified as Fauna tried to talk through her tears.  She was gasping and hiccoping and sobbing and her voice was squeaking and her face was all red and streaky. 

"Uhh..." he whimpered himself. His previous attempts just seemed to have made things worse.

He pushed away from her a little farther and smiled nervously.  She seemed so panicked, like all of this had just been building and building all over holidays and that it had just exploded like a loaded Snap card.  With Fig's dad hung up like he was, Figaro was completely out of control.  He just sat and waited and tried to stay out of the way as his mum navigated everything.  He knew what he was supposed to do - wait and be a good kid.  Fauna, on the other hand, what was she supposed to do?

"If it makes you feel any better, I haven't actually understood a thing you've said so far...?"

"He's going to be fine, yeah? Just have a bit of a ... holiday, get everything sorted out.  Come back and you two will be as good as normal, get all your NEWTS, have a wedding, have a bunch of babies, move to Cornwall and never feel bad ever again."

"Lovely. Yeah? Oh, Merlin."

Figaro sighed mightily.

Figaro's suggestion had her blinking rapidly, trying to process that information. Wedding. Babies. Cornwall? No, no, no. Her expression turned worried and she straightened in her seat, running a hand through her hair. Surprise had stopped the sobs, for the moment. She didn't hear the common room door open and close.

"I'm not- er, I don't think... I'm not ready to get married and have a baby!" Her tone was scoffing. She even smiled a bit to show just how ridiculous that idea was to her.

A gasp sounded from behind them, and Fauna turned to see a Hufflepuff first-year, staring at her in horror. Fauna, with her tear-stained face. Fig awkwardly patting her shoulder. Fauna's eyes went wide. The first-year's eyes went even wider. Suddenly, the kid bolted for the dormitories.

"Wait!"

She looked back at Fig. "Shite. Shite. I meant- well, you know. Not that."

She shook her head frantically. "No problems there. With that. You know? Oh hell."

Figaro started back peddling immediately, holding his hands up, stuttering a couple of course-nots! and didn't-mean-it-like-thats!  But at least she wasn't crying so much now.  Had that purge and was starting to feel better maybe.

"Oh, take a picture!" Figaro snapped at Jim, in an unusual display of hostility to first years.  Normally Figaro was very tolerant of the younger Hufflepuffs - he sort of 'got' them, considering his little brother Frank was about their age.

They were alone again, shortly and after exchanging a couple of shrugs, silence followed.

"So... how's he doing? With all that?" Figaro honestly couldn't imagine himself in Devlin's situation.  He'd probably been inches from the law himself when he let Xavier convince him to sneak to Knockturn, breaking into his family's shop and then running about with an ex-Azzie.  But Devlin had been caught.  He'd been in jail. He was going to trial.  Just like Kyle.  Just like Darcy.  Devlin seemed tough, but he was just a kid like they were.  A few years didn't make that much difference.

"Is he okay?"

"No, not really," she said honestly, scratching the back of her head.

"He's been acting kind of... weird lately."

She wiped at her nose with her sleeve, and then glanced at it - ew, gross.

Fauna couldn't believe she was spilling her guts to Figaro Sellaphix. He was a friend, and he was a nice, goofy guy, but he could also be immature and he wasn't the first person she would have ever thought to talk to about boy problems. Yet... she needed to talk to someone. Fig was asking questions, making it easy.

"First he was acting all jealous and weird at the mixer. Which I guess... I guess explains the St. Mungo's thing. Because it happened right before. So he was probably thinking or worrying about that."

She sighed, "And then, we didn't even get to the holiday dinner. He blew up at Greyfriar for like, no reason... well, maybe... I don't know. So I had to go home early."

Frowning, she cradled her knees and rested her chin on her arms, giving Fig a searching look. "Um... do you...? You're his friend," she stated. They hung out together sometimes. "Have you noticed... anything... different about him? I mean, before he got arrested. When he was still at school."

Fauna had never gotten the chance to talk to Devlin about being an animagus, besides just letting him know that she knew. That, combined with his recent behavior, made her start to wonder what else was going on with him, or if it was all in her head.