(1937-12-29) Thawing the Ice
Details for Thawing the Ice
Summary: Cassius and Cyril find some degree of reconciliation, and begin the slow process of rebuilding their relationship.
Date: December 29, 1937
Location: Wizengamot, MoM
Related: It's So Nice When the Family Get Together

Despite being a Saturday afternoon, Cassius has tucked himself away in his tiny office in the Wizengamot dungeons. He diligently scours over a stack of case files, preparing for the coming week's trials.

Knock, knock, knock. The sounds carries easily through Cassius' office as Cyril stands outside wrapping upon the door. He doesn't look as if he's in any particular hurry as he simply pulls his hand back and rests it on his hip, waiting patiently to be let inside.

Cassius doesn't look up from his work, his response curt and distracted. "Come," he projects.

Cyril creaks the door open slowly and steps inside, offering up a simple, "Brother." He nods his head to him and moves to stand next to one of the chairs across the desk from Cassius. "Mind if I sit?"

Cassius glances up at the voice of his brother's voice. "Tremendously, but I suspect you'll do it anyhow." He sets down his quill, folding his hands in front of him. "What brings you by my office?"

Cyril will, in a blatant change of form, respect his brother's wishes and stand, reaching into his pocket. "I realize that I acted crassly when I was asked to leave your house, so I've taken it upon myself to pay for the damages and apologize." He pulls an envelope out and sets it down on the desk.

Cassius arches an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers. "I never asked you to leave, Cyril. You offered to go, and I accepted. Keep your money."

Cyril slides the envelope towards him and says, "We both know my offer to leave was bedribbled with sarcasm. Now, let us not bog ourselves down about what was said or who said it and instead move forward." He straightens his tie and says, "I apologize for breaking your 18th century Venetian couch and stealing one of your frescos on my way out. I'm your brother and I'd very much like to reconcile things."

Cassius doesn't touch the envelope. He sucks air in through his teeth, spreading his hands, "Cyril. You have insulted me from the moment you entered my home, violated just about every rule of hospitality that a guest can, and ruined my birthday. You cannot buy my forgiveness, nor am I convinced of your contrition. Why are you really here? Do you want something from me?"

Cyril paces about the office, pulling his coin from his pocket and turning it over in his hands, "No. For once I have no ulterior motives. Shocking, isn't it?" He sniffs and tucks the coin back, "I'm not attempting to buy anything, brother. Merely paying for what I broke." He moves back to stand in front of the desk, hands clasped behind his back, "Just look at me, Cassius. Is this the face of a lying man?"

Cassius meets Cyril's gaze, staring intently back at his brother. "It is the face of a man who lies…but not now," he states confidently. "Does this mean you will maintain civility from now on? I have no desire to feud with you, but I do have certain expectations of those I associate with, family or not." Finally, he gestures to one of the the two chairs across the desk from him.

Cyril straightens out his jacket and unbuttons it as he sits down in one of the chairs. "Of course. I'm a remarkably civil man these days." He runs his hand down the length of his tie, making sure that it's laying just right. "You caught me on a few of my bad days. Let's call it an acute case of long-term jet lag."

"You've let those primitive Muggles you fight with get to you." Cassius gestures to the envelope. "Honestly, put that away. I'll not have you paying for a thing."

Cyril leans forward and slides the envelope back toward him before stuffing it in his coat pocket, "I suppose you're right." He clears his throat and says, "I don't suppose Edwarlinda has told you that I'm retiring from my days of adventure?"

Cassius lifts his brow with notable surprise. "No, she hasn't mentioned it. What brought about this decision? I thought you enjoyed living the fighting man's life."

Cyril winces a bit as he crosses one leg over the other, "I do. Though, I find that it is a young man's game. I'm getting old and I'm breaking down bit by bit. No sense in trying to keep up with the younger generations who are trying to make their mint."

Cassius chuckles, "Except you have advantages that most of them do not. So what will you do with yourself? I cannot imagine you at a desk job."

Cyril rubs his left knee and smirks, "Well, I recently interviewed for a job at the British Museum. Authenticating and keeping up with the inventory." He shrugs and says, "It's better than sitting around all day and wasting away, I suppose. Not much else for me to do, really."

Cassius stares disbelievingly. "You? Doing inventory and filling out paperwork? I think you'll go mad in a month. And a Muggle museum, at that?"

Cyril scratches at his nose and leans back in the chair. "They do have a remarkable Egyptology department." He laces his fingers together and rests them on his stomach, "And like I said, it's essentially the only option for employment I can think off."

"There are wizard antiquities dealers that could benefit from your expertise. Or a wizarding museum, for that matter." Cassius shrugs, "In any event, good luck getting the job. I'm sure your experience in the field will go far to recommend you. Assuming they remain unaware of your 'extracurricular' activities."

Cyril chuckles and says, "I don't meddle with magical artifacts. They've all got to do something special to fetch a high price. Muggles will pay a fortune for anything that is just significantly old." He smirks and says, "The reason I'm not in Azkaban right now is because I do a very good job at hiding my little dalliances." He sits up and uncrosses his legs with yet another wince, saying, "I suppose I should be going. I've got a bit of house hunting to do."

Cassius nods, still not entirely warm toward Cyril, but the ice has melted a bit. "Well, best of luck to you, in the job and the home." After a moment of deliberation, he He'll pay the man that must respect, at least.

Cyril nods to Cassius and stands up, buttoning his jacket, "Thank you. And best of luck on…whatever it is that you do. Oh, and send Alis my regards the next time you see her." And with that, he turns and steps out of the door, on his way to do Cyril-y things.

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