Coiled (Book 1 of 2)

The Climb

Malfoy Manor's been the undisputed seat of command for the pure-blooded extremist movement for many months now. This is for a variety of reasons, both political and practical.

Politically speaking, the cunning and infamous Abraxas Malfoy has always been highly regarded within his social circle. Beyond this though, consider the recent marriage of Abraxas's son Lucius to Narcissa Black. A quite strategic marriage, one signalling a formal alliance between the Malfoy and Black dynasties. And so perhaps that's what allowed Bellatrix Black Lestrange to successfully advocate for the use of Malfoy Manor as the primary centre of operations. Advice which her lord's taken completely to heart.

Of course, practicality's king in its own way and Malfoy Manor's undeniably the most practical choice of all the respective estates. Sprawling, foreboding, and located in a strategically central yet rural location, it's hard to resist.

Within Malfoy Manor itself, the entire third floor's been converted by Abraxas and his wife into long term guest accommodations as well as rooms dedicated for recreation and relaxation. There is, for instance, a billiards room that the men of the organisation are particularly fond of frequenting during their downtime at the Manor.

This is the place where Amycus Carrow now finds himself, alone and drinking his way into a subdued and sorrowful stupor. He's hurting badly after this morning's encounter with Pandora, and right now he's fighting against an especially strong feeling of self-loathing over having let her slip away yet once more.

It's particularly painful for him because of the recent unspoken intimacy shared between them. And though they haven't crossed any clear lines yet, they've certainly blurred them, and in his opinion at least, hopelessly so.

Of course, it's all seemingly for nothing.

Because Xeno ...

... Stupid Xeno, constantly winning where she's concerned.

And why?

Why should he?

Having parked himself at the bar located on the far side of the room, Amycus sighs sadly as he pours himself a fresh drink, his fourth generous glass of fire whiskey on ice. He's binge drinking, trying to consume as much alcohol as he possibly can. And it's working; he's quite drunk, head swimming.

Leaning forward in his stool, he shakes his head in exasperation. Then, tipping his head back, he downs the whiskey in one large gulp before bringing his head down to rest cradled against the surface of the bar.

... That's the sight Henry Mulciber happens across purely by accident as he flits past, having just slipped out of one of the many private guest rooms. It's a sight that causes him to come to an immediate halt, eyes narrowing as he tips his head to one side in strategic consideration. Then, smiling predatorily, he strides into the room, barely remembering to fix the zip on his trousers as he whistles sharply.

Straightening up immediately at the distinctive whistle, Amycus turns, their eyes meeting, "Henry."

"Amy."

Groping at the bar clumsily, Amycus manages to pluck up the bottle of whiskey, holding it up as an offering to Henry, "... Care to share a drink?"

Or two?

Or three?

He's slurring his words and his dark eyes have the telltale far away look indicative of heavy intoxication.

Approaching the bar slowly, Henry nods, mindful to smile graciously as he accepts the bottle, "Yes, I think I will. Thank you, Amy."

But rather than sit next to Amycus, Mulciber carries the bottle with him all the way around the bar, coming to a stop opposite the other man. Humming softly, he takes his time retrieving a glass for himself and pouring a modest amount of fire whiskey. Eyeing Amycus thoughtfully, he refreshes his glass for him. And then Henry sets the bottle to the side, one palm flattening against the surface of the bar as his other hand lifts the glass upwards and begins to swirl it slowly, "... Long day, Carrow?"