It's A Game (Amadeus)

[apollo]

Apollo rolled his head to the side, rubbing at the kink forming solidly in his neck. If that redhead didn't have such a nice arse, he could have his own king-sized bed right now, rather than the rickety contraption at the Leaky Cauldron. But he wasn't complaining. At least not verbally. No, he'd already gotten much farther than he could have hoped in the past week; In more ways than one.

The little redhead...Perri. She was clearly head over heels for him. Then again, so was that bartender flashing her cleavage from behind the bar, as if there was some worthwhile tosser in this dump worth her time. Of course, there was Apollo, but he had given up his womanizing ways...For now. At least until he had little Weasley around his finger and in his bed.

Apollo took a swig of his firewhiskey, locking eyes with the hopeful bartender, before allowing them to slide away, silently rejecting her. He wasn't sure what about this job always had his father so uptight. Free housing, sex and firewhiskey until you couldn't walk anymore, not to mention the praise he was drowned in. To think Draco made it seem like something he'd need to work at. It was a game. Apollo took another thoughtful swig of his firewhiskey. He was skilled in the art of playing games. It had been most of his life.

Face it, growing up as a Malfoy was bound to destroy you; In the case of his sisters, it was quite literal. He felt a slight pang as he thought back to the funerals, but his skilled mind quickly switched to a random memory of some sexual encounter he'd had in Dublin. If he was going to go down a mess, he might as well have fun doing so.

[amadeus]

How could he have been so stupid?

Amadeus should have known something was off when he'd gotten the letter, but nevertheless, that Hogsmeade weekend he had taken Floo home at his father's request. He had appeared in the grate with a furious Draco to greet him- screaming at how he had disgraced the family further, and that he was going to be good as dead. He'd used the Cruciatus Curse on him, his own son, and had looked murderous. There was only one explanation, Amadeus figured as he writhed on the floor in catastrophic pain, the Death Eaters had found out that it had been him who had allowed Natalia to escape.

Amadeus had barely escaped, using the handful of Floo left in his pocket to get back up the fireplace, but in his panic had fallen out of the wrong grate into a house that was thankfully vacant, and looked to be as if it had been for a while, the windows were boarded, the place was a filthy mess, entirely dilapidated... He'd ended his journey in the Shrieking Shack. Well, that was a bit of a relief, he hadn't ended up too far from his destination, he didn't have any Floo powder left, so he would have been stuck.

Still mentally shaken from the events of the day, Amadeus left the old building and went in direction of the village, going straight for the Hog's Head, he'd be able to get a drink there even though he was underage, and Lord knew he could do with one. Amadeus walked in through the front door, head hung and covered in ash from his chosen method of travel. He took a spot at the far end up the bar, and the bartender put down a firewhiskey in front of him before he could say anything, she must have noticed how pale he was. Amadeus drank deeply, his trembling hands threatening to spill his glass, he didn't even bother to look around, hadn't yet noticed his older brother a few feet away...

[apollo]

It wasn't long before a small trickle of unusually small customers began entering the Hog's Head, each more wide-eyed and frightened than the last, thinking they may be caught. Apollo smirked to himself, tipping off his Firewhiskey, another at the ready, accompanied by another flash of hopeful cleavage. He raised his eyes to hers this time, flashing his practiced Rock Star smile, eliciting a small blush in her cheeks. Oh, poor girl. In all of his years, never had a student been turned in for their actions here, and he was sure it wasn't going to be starting now.

But one was different from the rest, head ducked, but not in fear. In shame. With burning white hair that he had come to despise, dying over it constantly. Daddy's favorite. He raised an eyebrow, invisible to his baby brother, who plopped down at the bar. He gestured for the waitress once again, who was there in an instant. "Get the Malfoy kid a Firewhiskey," he handed her the money and she nodded. He settled back in his seat, watching how easily the baby Draco took down the drink, just like Draco.

He watched a few seconds longer before he stood up, crossing the bar, and sitting down beside his baby brother, elbows resting on the bar, facing the crowd. A few people were interested, but others were too drunken to even recognize the odd reunited pair, or anticipate what heated arguments and duels might come of it. Another beautiful reason Apollo worshipped the Hog's Head. Here, he wasn't a Malfoy. Here, he was just a man with Rock Star good looks. He continued to survey the crowd, the small students growing twitchier with every second they waited for their forbidden firewhiskeys.

"You owe me sickle," was all he said. What else could he say? It wasn't as if he could be serious. That would be to depressing. That would mean thinking about feelings. Who knew, maybe they'd start crying about their sisters and braiding each other's hair. Apollo wasn't one for emotion. He'd had the emotion crushed out of him at a young age. Unlike baby Draco to his right, who was the pride and joy of daddy dearest. Life was going to kick him down the hardest. And by the looks of it, it might already have.

"Girl troubles?" He inquired nonchalantly, unsure what problems a fifteen-year-old Malfoy heir could have; Other than those they were forced to hold in and hide. This was something different. "Get dumped, mate?" He pressed, not allowing much time for answer. "Or she doesn't date Malfoys," he added. "Had my share of those when I was your age. They always give in though," he flashed his perfect grin, although it was a waste on baby Draco.

[amadeus]

Amadeus set the glass down after draining half, it was downright unpleasant, as the drink's name suggested, it burned going down as if it were fire. But he refrained from shuddering, thus showing his inexperience. No, he was too hardened for that. He placed his hands flat on the bar, in hopes that it might steady them, he'd been on edge for two years, and this... Well this was threatening to push him over the edge. He'd saved Nat, but at what cost? His own life? Getting her out of the hellhole fabricated in the basement of his home had been what had kept him alive that summer, but with that complete, and the news of his deed out...

As far as Amadeus was concerned, he'd be lucky to last a month. Thoughts of suicide went through his mind. He wondered how infuriated the Death Eaters would be if he beat them to the punch. Sure, it would be doing their work for them, but none of them would get the satisfaction of actually killing him. The morbid thoughts made him involuntarily cringe, though he couldn't deny, that perhaps now the time might be right to actually commit to slitting his wrists, let his blood and life pour out of him. He'd been close before, seriously debated it, but now... why wait?

Amadeus lightly crinkled his nose as his thoughts of death were interrupted by a voice proclaiming that he owed the speaker a sickle. He didn't even have to look up to know who it was, Apollo, the second of the remaining Malfoy kin, his brother. They hadn't seen each other in a while, and things were tense to say the least. Not that Amadeus could exactly blame him, what with how he'd been as a kid, so stupid, he'd held Draco with such admiration, strove to be just like him...

"Fine," Amadeus scoffed, reaching into his pocket, grabbing one of the silver coins tainted with the residue of trace amounts of Floo, and slammed it onto the counter. Wealth was almost sickening to him now, he didn't even want to touch so much as a knut. As Apollo spoke, he crinkled his nose again before picking up his glass and taking another hearty swig. His brother's personality was irritating at the moment, and he was suddenly reminded of why they had never really gotten along. Amadeus had been much closer with his sisters.

Both of whom were now long dead- nearly a year for Ariadne, almost two for Ascella. He wondered if his brother would even care about what had happened, about what he had done to cause Draco to snap, to want to kill the son who had once been his favourite. "I've got problems other than that, none of that trivial shit," Amadeus spat. Though it was true that girls were eyeing him in the corridors now, giggling about how he was "dangerous" and "mysterious."

[apollo]

Apollo raised an eyebrow as his brother irritably slammed down the money, the usual Draco arrogance of handling his wealth not present. He seemed almost pleased to be rid of it. Apollo surveyed baby Draco calmly, the evidence of a drastic change there. Apollo took another sip of the burning drink, before deciding not to take the coin. Apollo had felt the same way, when he had first realized how estranged he would be from his perfect family. Their money was their facade, and it stung like venom when he spent it. No, Apollo preferred his own shady dealings to fund his lavish and extravagant ways.

I've got problems other than that, none of that trivial shit

Well hadn't baby Draco grown up? Apollo could only laugh at the poisonous tone his brother could produce, one filled with what seemed like pure hatred. "Come now, little brother," he laughed freely as he finally recognized the source of baby Draco's torment. Apollo had been there himself his fifth year, and had shortly thereafter decided he would be his own person. "I see your father has finally found his way under your skin....Can't say I saw it coming though. With our sisters, however, it was only a matter of time until they found their way..." A slight reminiscing tone filled his voice as he spoke, although his nonchalant and carefree manner was still evident, as he had practiced. You didn't get as far as he did by letting your emotions reign.

"Guess I can sympathize with you...Don't really blame you either. Nasty business, what your father has taken on doing. But treachery runs in the blood. The ironic bit though is Draco bred it in all of his precious children," Apollo finished his fire whiskey, spinning around in the chair so he could properly face Amadeus. "I'm going to take a shot in the dark here and guess you were the one that sprung the mudblood?"

[/color] He asked. Draco had adamantly denied any fault in the matter the last Apollo had seen him, which was on his knees with a furious Jezebel towering over him.

It had been a lovely show, really. A thoroughly cowed Draco right in the place where he belonged. Still, he wouldn't have guessed little baby Draco would have been the one to free the mudblood. From what he understood, she had been thought to be valuable information, although she hadn't really given anything up, rather than proving to be a fun little toy to bring to screams, from what he had heard. [/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

[amadeus]

Amadeus had assumed a very tense posture, though he figured it was better than the shaking he had had only moments earlier. Though he was sure if he were to stand his knees would resume trembling, he didn't think he could walk anywhere for at least a few more minutes now that he had sat down. Unfortunate, really, because if there was anyone he didn't want to talk to, it was Apollo. For whatever reason, the way his brother spoke was grating on his soul, acting as if everything were a game, when Amadeus had only just figured out how serious his own situation was.

He had known it to be a major risk when he had broken Natalia out of their basement, but it was as now he was only understanding it. Amadeus had been foolish to think it would never be figured out. And now he would have to face his fate, just as Ascella and Ariadne had. Though beneath all the otherwise confusing emotions, he felt a faint note of satisfaction at shaming their family name, defiling it even further. It must reflect very poorly on Draco indeed to have three of his children turn into outright traitors.. Amadeus sipped his firewhiskey, trying not to cringe at the sound of Apollo's laugh.

Honestly, it was the last thing he wanted to hear- laughter of any sort. He pulled a vague face as the drink burned its way down- the sensation continuing as the liquid reached his otherwise empty stomach. Amadeus caught a vague reflection of himself in his glass, and had to work at not pulling a face at how he looked- pale anyway, he was now entirely colourless, and dark circles were etched heavily beneath his eyes, which themselves were for once not empty, but almost haunted.

Amadeus had never been tortured before, and he had thought the injury to his elbow, that now lent his arm a permanent odd curvature, had been bad, but the curse had been much worse- as if every bone in his body were being shattered. He had nearly passed out, though he had been able to retain consciousness by a thread. Amadeus had never felt so weak before, but now he felt as if it were pitiful. Maybe he deserved to die, he was willing to do it this time, not back out like he had the times before...

Amadeus only nodded when Apollo, correctly, guessed that he had been the one to free Natalia, seemed his brother might be a bit cleverer than the rest of the lot of Death Eaters. It had taken Draco months to figure it out. He tried not to cringe at the word that had once flowed so readily from his lips... "Needless to say Draco's not pleased," Amadeus said flatly before tossing back the rest of his drink. He would never call that man "father" again...

[apollo]

Apollo watched his brother, although he maintained that distant, uncaring posture he seemed to carry all the time. His head tilted to the side and his arms over his chest as he leaned up against the bar, facing the rest of the pub, although Amadeus remained in full view of his peripheral vision. It was strange to see what looked like a reflection of himself, doing exactly what he had done, acting exactly as he had. Originally Apollo would have rejoiced at the image that was reminiscent of such awful suffering, but it only brought back memories he had taken to drowning in booze and sex, which were rather effective vices, he had found. But Apollo didn't have a whole fleet of Death Eaters hungry for his blood when he had flipped Draco the symbolic finger and taken to the streets to further the humiliation of his family name.

Needless to say, Draco is not pleased

At this, Apollo could do nothing but laugh. Not one of those practiced laughs meant to make the nearest woman swoon, but head thrown back, belly laughter. "I wish I could have been there to see his face," he grinned when the outrageous and rather loud laughter and subsided. Whoever hadn't been watching the feuding brothers at what must appear to be peace from the outside world certainly was now. "Must be a sad day for him when I'm his new pride and joy," he flashed a genuine grin at the thought of Draco's torment. He half-expected Amadeus, who now seemed to share these feelings, to grin as well, before he remembered how serious he was. How dreary and dementedly depressed he seemed to be. He wasn't ever going to survive, thinking that way.

Still, Apollo kept his mouth shut. If he were to encourage his brother in anyway, he knew it would have the opposite effect. The two were like night and the much better looking, rock-star day. His trying to tell Amadeus to cheer up and look at the bright things, like women, would only drive him further into that depressed pessimism he himself had once been familiar with, and Apollo was sure if he were to choke out some cliche's, all the Firewhiskey would make a grand reappearance. "I suggest revenge," he said calmly, a serious tone in his voice. It sounded foreign to his ears, saying exactly what he thought. It was rather unsettling, although he wouldn't let on. Not with that barmaid behind the counter flashing him a hopeful smile. He didn't wait for Amadeus to respond before continuing, "I chose the simple path of trying to outdo him, aiming for his pride. It's been fun, but not too effective. If you're even half as clever as Ariadne, you'll find a brilliant plan, I'm sure of it. It'll take time, though," he grew quiet, pondering this plan, speaking as much to himself as he was to Amadeus.

"A lot of time...especially to get it just right....You'll need a place to stay," he glanced up. "I'd take you in, but I'm in the middle of seducing some Order Member's daughter. Books and quills laying around will get in the way of that," he grinned at his own joke, this time hardly expecting any response on Amadeus's dead face. He never had appreciated Apollo's playful way of approaching things. It was terribly boring in the summer holidays with him, back when he had still lived with him. "But I would go where they would never expect. They'll be searching all of your friends, friends of the family, and other families willing to take a Malfoy in," Apollo knew from experience that having a face that could be recognized almost nationally didn't come without a few angered haters. "If you really want to add injury to insult, join the order or something. Take a lesson from Ariadne and Ascella. They died for what they believed in...something Draco will never be able to do. If you for some reason have a new soft spot for mudbloods, or that mudblood in particular, do something about it," Apollo stretched his arms up, the serious tone having exhausted him. How tiresome it must be to be serious all the time. He rolled his head slightly, as if the strain had knotted his neck before he pushed up from the bar, tossing the money for the Firewhiskies on the bar.

[/size]

[amadeus]

Amadeus crinkled his nose slightly, looking down into the glass that he had drained of its contents, half-wishing that it held more. He had never really drank before- not beyond the luxurious wine or mead that Draco and Astoria served with their elaborate dinners- so he had no idea what his limits were. Though he figured it would not be a wise decision to get too tipsy, not when he was a ways off from the school and the Death Eaters were after him. Being a doomed man oddly didn't much phase him- he knew what was going to happen, and had perhaps even come to accept it.

He'd gone as far as the point of considering doing it himself, five times before gone far enough in considering it to have the razor poised directly above the pulse point of his wrist. Amadeus knew how to do it properly, deep vertical cuts, it would be faster that way, maybe even painless. But the idea of pain didn't bother him- at least not so much as the idea of the reaction of the unfortunate soul that would come across his body, lifeless and chalk white in a pool of red. He had pondered ways that might be cleaner- poison, hanging, or even simply cursing himself.

But those didn't seem like the right way to him. His wand was too loyal to harm him, even if he tried, and the other methods seemed to lack the severity that he needed. They would be too quiet. Amadeus figured letting himself bleed out would be an almost symbolic end to his struggles- it would show that everything had left him now, that there wasn't any more anger, bitter sorrow, or the all-consuming nothingness that hadn't allowed him to feel at all. But could he really do it? That was the question.

Amadeus didn't feel the same apprehension about death anymore, it was what had stopped him twice during the span between the deaths of his sisters. Ascella had just been put into the ground, and while he might not have cared about what might happen with his brother or his parents, he had been unable to leave Ariadne. They had bonded, she had been his only lifeline in the world's most screwed up family, they had needed each other. But now that she was gone... Amadeus didn't really have anyone. Perhaps that was not entirely true, there was Natalia.

She did mean something to him- why else would he have put himself in this situation? And Amadeus couldn't forget the look in her eyes when she had insisted that he move in with them, how alive she had been, almost as if the hell in that cellar had never happened... He was now coming to the realization that they might be more connected than he thought, could he really go through with ending his existence when she depended on him? Amadeus honestly wasn't sure anymore, but he quietly gestured the barmaid for another round as Apollo spoke, nudging her the silver coin his brother hadn't accepted.

Revenge... That was the last thing that had been on his mind as he clutched his refilled glass, taking a long sip. This time he didn't react to the foul taste, or the sensation of fire pouring down his throat, or even the slight sloshing of the liquid in his stomach that hadn't seen food all day. Amadeus wasn't like that, not anymore. Before all this had happened he seized every opportunity to get back at someone who had wronged him, but now it seemed almost pointless.

He didn't want to be like them. Though there was a foreign part of his brain that was soaking in Apollo's irritating words, encouraging him to formulate some sort of plan that they wouldn't see coming- manipulate the pain he had been caused into something that would have equally catastrophic results. He was sure it wouldn't be hard, pull something off and pin it directly on Draco- let him have the wrath that he should have had ages ago...

Amadeus took another sip of the firewhiskey. "Maybe you have a point," Amadeus said quietly, leaving it at that. He still wasn't sure what to do with these new, mostly unwelcome, thoughts of wanting to bring pain to someone else. They reminded him too much of his old self, the arrogant, stupid kid that had bullied weaker classmates to feel better about himself when his ego had already been out of hand. But this seemed different somehow, his victim was deserving.

[apollo]

Apollo took his sweet time getting ready to leave. He stretched this way and that as he spoke, eyes meandering aimlessly over the disgruntled and disheveled visitors of the shabby pub. The whole time he hovered, he wanted to ensure his words sunk into the thick skull of his stubborn brother. Maybe there was a chance Draco would get what was coming to him, and Apollo would do anything to see that day. Especially when it was his favored son, his pride and joy, bringing around his downfall. That would be a truly brilliant day. A vengence not only for himself, but also for his sisters, and now someone he was a little more willing to call his brother.

The rock solid exterior of Amadeus was thick, and Apollo was shocked that he didn't leap at the mention of the word revenge. It had been to him as it had been to Draco; A sweet, sugary treat that made their mouths water. He was almost pleased that Amadeus wasn't taking his words immediately, as Draco would have.

Maybe you have a point

Apollo stopped in mid movement as he was lowering his sunglasses over his eyes once again. Had those words really left Amadeus's mouth? Any other day when he wasn't feeling so somber and serious, Apollo would have had a field day, but even he could tell this was far too real of a topic to do such. That'd have to wait. He even bit his tongue at the quick-witted response that had originally bubbled up I've always got a point, baby brother.

"This is a real war, Amadeus," he slid the sunglasses over his eyes as he reached into his pocket, fishing out his room key. He dropped it on the bar, the number 3 of his room sloppily engraved in the worn metal. "We're all going to die...It's the way of war. The important thing is we die for what we believe in...I guess I'm saying that you have to make sure whatever you do comes from your heart," Apollo adjusted his leather jacket as he began his dramatic exit from the pub, striding in that way that brought all eyes on him. His permanent rock-star smirk fixed itself upon his lips as he walked. Still, he couldn't push the image from his mind of coming face to face with Amadeus again, when what they believed in would mean one was going to have to lose.

But that was the entire nature of their relationship.

[/size]

[amadeus]

((OOC: So I guess we're done here?))

[apollo]

((OOC: I guess so. Anything else you wanted to accomplish?))

[amadeus]

((OOC: No, I can't really think of anything... Dead it is.))