What Music They Make // White Wyvern // Monday, 17 July 1978

[Amycus Carrow]

Rolling his eyes, he leaned against the bar and snagged a potato from his sister’s plate, popping it in his mouth with a grin. “Golden-hearted boy? That’s a new one, but I’ll take it. Tell your birds I don’t favor them either,” he said with a laugh, taking another sip of his drink. The birds were fine and they made Alecto happy, but merlin could they leave a mess being cooped up inside for too long. And he was too afraid if he let them out they might not come back, but he wasn’t about to admit that. He smirked at Elara as she pulled down a bottle from the top shelf, ignoring her comment about him getting smarter. He was smart enough to know not to mess with her when she was in a mood, and smart enough to do his job for the Dark Lord without getting caught. He didn’t need to be any smarter than that.

Elara was called away, and his grin grew as Alecto launched into telling him about her mission. He had never doubted her, but he also loved to hear a tale of a mission gone well. He could picture it well, a witch running from Alecto as she dodged Alecto’s practiced spells. He was sure that his sister could have caught the witch faster - although she did it quickly enough already - but there was no fun in snatching if you didn’t play with your victim first. He and Bella had taught his sister everything she knew, which meant there had been no future in which she would have failed. “Brilliant as always sis, keep it up and maybe we’ll get a task to do together. Unstoppable, the two of us,” he said as he nudged her with his shoulder. She was quickly off to the loo and he finished his drink, looking down the bar to Elara.

“Fancy another? Still my treat - although apparently we are going to Bella's. Fancy a trip with the Lestranges tonight?” he asked her, sliding his empty glass forward. “Bella is sure to have a place in mind, better than Pandemonium. Probably someplace muggle to cause havoc, knowing her and Alecto. Have you ever been on a hunting trip with the two of them? They’re f*cking ruthless.” Bella had always been a perfect mentor for his sister, and he had to wonder how Andromeda managed to still be so stupid when she had such a great older sister. And Narcissa? She was vapid and not worth a damn like Bella was. “To the best hunting party.”

[Elara Faolan]

Her replacement came around the corner as Elara finished refilling the glasses of the rowdy group of men at the far end of the bar, signaling the end of her shift. “About bloody time,” she called to the barman as he began his nightly ritual checking over the barback and restocking anything that she had depleted during her shift. “I was ‘bout to throw this lot out on their arses,” she thumbed at the belligerent men as she walked away from them, “but I can’t be fucked. And seeing as how you’re the one getting paid now and I’m not, I’ll leave that pleasure to you.” She smiled at the man, though it looked more like a sneer by this point.

It was then that she noticed the more favorable party in the room had shrunken by half, and she returned to Amycus for an explanation and to finish her drink. She listened and was not surprised to hear the siblings had made plans to include the Lestranges in the night’s frivolities. “I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure,” Lara answered his query. She’d been out with Alecto on more than one occasion, and had met Bellatrix and her husband but not in any capacity that would have resulted in the term “ruthless” being thrown around. “I’m up for a little havoc.” She tipped her glass in his direction as he cheers their little hunting party and then finished her drink, leaving the glass on the bar for her colleague to clean up. “I’ll grab my things and then you can buy me another drink at the next place. And the one after that.” She smirked and turned away, untying her apron and shoving it onto a low shelf as she retrieved her bag and confirmed its contents were intact.

“Right then, tell your sister to get her arse out here and let’s shake a leg.” She eyed Amycus as she walked out from behind the bar, passing the drunks at the end as she came through the seating area. One of the men commented her “sweet arse” and reached out to grab her bum as she passed by. With supernatural speed, Elara spun around, punching the man in the jaw and then grabbing his wrist and pulling his arm hard behind his back until he bent forward in pain, howling curses and derogatory names her way.

“Gerroff me, you bloody bint.”

Elara wrenched the man’s arm harder, and he swore loudly and insisted she ‘didn’t know how to take a compliment’. Lara used her free hand to grasp the thinning remnants of his disheveled hair, pulled his head back slightly and then slammed it forcefully down onto the bar top. His body slumped and when she released him, he fell to the floor unconscious. His friends had grown silent and simply watched the display unfold with no attempt to intervene on their friend’s behalf. That was often how she observed men to be. They emboldened each other to harass their prey but rarely came to one another’s aide when pushed. Cowards.

Smoothing her shirt and adjusting her handbag on her shoulder, Elara finished her stroll toward her dates for the evening. She looked to her colleague, her expression straight, and remarked “I think they’re ready for their bill down there, Desmond.” When she turned her attention back to her companion, something more relaxed hinted behind her eyes. “Ready?”

[Alecto Carrow]

Amycus's words got her thinking, as she put herself together in the ill-lit loo. Would the Dark Lord ever pair them up for a mission, just the two of them? Unstoppable, Amycus was right - they would be. Together, they would have nothing to fear. Their backs would always be covered. And in suggesting it...he knows. He knows now. That you're ready. Equals. Alecto's arm jerked, wine-red lipstick slashed over her cheek. The lipstick was better on her than the witch who had been applying it on herself as she entered, and she smeared the error away with a paper towel and the heel of her hand before slipping the tube into her pack. Beauty was power, control, a weapon and a tool, as she had learned from the best. Face shocked with cold water and bruises glamoured away, hair freshly tied back, clothes changed - as long as one didn't look too closely, she could be any other twenty-something off for a carefree night on the town, eh? The pale eyes staring back at her gave the game away, though, and as always, she didn't hold the hollow gaze for long. 

She assessed, approved, and a man's voice broke in a wordless howl, and she hurried to grab her pack and exit, laughing at the wreckage left in Elara's wake already. "Ready," she returned merrily, ponytail swinging, boot heel stomping on the wizard's knee with a satisfactory crack as she walked over him to join Elara and Amycus. Pausing only to snap at the barmaid's replacement for something to write with, Alecto scrawled a quick message to Bellatrix and Rodolphus about their next stop; with an intricate wave of her wand, the napkin vanished, to appear in the mail tray of Lestrange Manor. If their elf had any sense, it would hear the signal bell and alert its masters.

"There's a muggle pub just outside the alley," Alecto began with a grin to the others, body humming with excitement, "good crowd, good music. Fish in a barrel. Somehow, the bouncer always forgets my face." Her strides lengthened, breaths deeper, as they left the Wyvern for the winding alley. It was good to sit, to take a respite, to replenish - and better to be again on the move.