(1938-12-19) The Unforgiven Two
Details for The Unforgiven Two
Summary: Myrus and Alphard have a meeting that, to Alphards dismay and Myrus' internal fear, is them completely alone in the Library.
Date: 1938-12-19
Location: Hogwarts Library

It's the morning of the 19th. After curfew has expired and before classes start. Breakfast was still on the way, even. But the library was open. Does this place ever close?
Myrus had grabbed a first year Slytherin. MOney talks. A sickle to the kid if he delivered a note to Alphard. A knut if he made any snide comments or belittling words against the Fifth Year ravenclaw.
Myrus planned on giving him a knut anyway, just because. Maybe two if Alphard had time to meet him this morning in the Library. Maybe Myrus should have been in Slytherin.
Rus currently waits in the library, and was passing the time by running through some paragraphs of a hefty transfiguration book. He needed more study on it anyway.

He sits alone at a table near the front of the rows of books, at the end of it closest the wall. He was already putting himself backed into a corner, in essence. He didn't plan on running anyhow, if things went as south as they possibly could.

Mornings were not Alphard's favorite time, especially when his sleep had been interrupted in the middle of the night. Later in the day he tended to carry himself with effortless grace, but this early? This early it was more of foot-dragging shuffle. There was a lot of yawning, too, that required some serious amount of biting down on his fist to stifle. There were toothmarks. They'd remain behind half the day, if not longer, with how much he had been chewing on his poor knuckles.
At least his hair was back in order, and his clothes were in their usual pristine state. He never left the Slytherin Dungeons in a mess if he could help it. If his eyes were a bit bleary, at least they weren't completely closed. He spotted Myrus, and started dragging himself over. He folded into the chair opposite of Myrus, a complete bodily collapse that saw his limbs sprawled every which way they pleased.
"Meanie said you'd try to catch me." He struggled against another yawn.

Myrus was chipper as could be. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning. Matter of fact, he'd been that way ever since this last weekend ended. "Good morning, Alphard." He says, keeping the cheer out of his voice, seeing Alphard's state of affairs this tired and worn-out morning.
"And yes, I know she did. First thing's first," Myrus wasn't ever really one to beat around the bush if it was a conversation he requested with someone. Well, at least not today. "I'd like to apologize for any unprovoked actions I've taken with you this year." He says this as he closes the book in front of him, showing all attention to the senior male was given, and it closes with a muffled thud of papers clapping together.

"Is it? I'm pretty sure it's a miserable bloody morning," Alphard grumbled. At least Myrus wasn't shoving his good spirits down Alphard's throat. Nothing was more annoying than someone being all joyous in the morning when you most definetly weren't.
"In other words all of them, right? The attacking, the dinnertime confrontations, the hallway ass hattery. Just so I'm clear on what you're apologizing for. Vague blanket statements have a way of meaning different things to everybody." Grunting, he tried to get comfortable in his chair, but failed. He was missing his bed.

Myrus was warned how apologies to Alphard usually turn into grovelling sessions. He looks up the row to someone else who was grabbing extra study material before the day's classes. Who on earth would be up this early to- Oh, haha, oh that's right.
Myrus gives an understanding raise of the hand, motioning that he meant all of those. "Yes, yes, all of them, it would seem." OK, snivveling sidestepped. Now, keep it to that, don't say anything else. Act disinterested in whatever else he has.. unless it's.. ugh, what would Alphard really say to this, though? He'll venture waiting to find out.

Alphard finally got comfortable, and as he got comfortable he seemed to shake off his boneless morning indifference. He straightened out, his shoulders broadened and his chest inflated. There was the cocky and smug bastard the world knew and loved, always looking down his nose at someone, and more than happy to use his physical presence to intimidate. He gave Myrus a flat and critical look.
"Well, I have to honest, Lowe. I'm not really feeling the enthusiasm, or that genuine sense of contrition." He made a limp wristed royal gesture with his hand, a not-so-subtle request a bit more of both those things.

Myrus looks at Alphard as he speaks, oh great. Black is back. He straightens himself in his own chair, not mocking, or even trying to outdo the other male. Just, being a man in his own right. "Contrition? Eh. I'm not doing that very well. And enthusiasm, not much enthusiasm when someone admits they were wrong. I'd assume why some people have such a commanding presence. Either thick skulled, or just ignorant of how cruel they really are. Or no soul. But in any case," he's showing some real volition now. "I'm sorry, Alphard. And I forgive you." Myrus reaches out across the table, leaning forward a little at those last words, placing his hand (the one that was broken, no less, but he didn't really mean that part of it conciously), and lets it rest there for a moment, before he pats the table twice, and retracts it, unless Alphard somehow keeps him from obtaining his own hand to his side of the table again.

Alphard eyed the younger Ravenclaw infront of him somewhat dubiously. "No, no you're not doing that very well at all. Or any of this." His cruelly arrogant features were favoring a displeased frown. It deepend substantially once Myrus had the audacity to forgive him. Bristling with indignation he declared: "I've hardly done anything that requires forgiveness, Lowe. If anything I've been uncommongly patient with you." His eyes passed over the hand, the one he had viciously broken without hesitation. There was no hint of a trouble concience anywhere in his dark eyes. He sighed. "Because like I told you once before, I can respect the instinct to protect family and loved ones. Even when it results in plain stupidity. What I can't tolerate is the bloody obstinate asshattery that followed." He made a snobbish sniff of displeasure, before extending a bit of reluctant generosity. At least as he saw it. "But let's say I am willing to forgive. It would be under the condition that such behavior ends. And you'll owe me one."

Myrus stands up, tilting his head to the side. "Well then, if you've done nothing for me to forgive, then I guess I retract that statement, and my apology stands. Because asshattery, sir," he inclines his head in a simple bow of it, "Is a two way street. So if it ends, it all ends, and we parts ways. And.." his head raises, tilting to the side and shaking ever so slightly. "..you got anything I owed you by using me as threatened violence or whatever it was that you held over Esther. So owe you, I'd say not. Because if you were really willing to forvige," Myrus smirks indignantly, "You wouldn't be trying to wrench favors out of me."

"You brought me here, Lowe," Alphard told the younger boy in cool tones. "You've postponed my breakfast. You've bothered Meanie, and if you continue like this you've added ontop of everything else the insult of wasting everybody's time." He remained seated, but there was an added layer of tension once Myrus got up. "Now Esther owned up to her mistakes properly, and I accepted it. But this half hearted attempt of yours is downright disrespectful. Wrench favors out of you? I'm letting you off the hook easily, Lowe. But if you thought it was just going to be a 'sorry' and then everything would be happy times? Then you're an idiot. So what's it going to be, Lowe? Are you going to man up properly and do what you came here to do, or are you going to wriggle away having accomplished nothing but to annoy me yet again?"

Myrus was getting annoyed as well, but his demeanor wasn't changing outwardly. His chin lowered the slightest bit as he leans forward and puts his palms on the table.
"You never answered my implication that you used me against Esther. Man up yourself, and say that you used me like that already. Or is that a submission you'll not make, as it would make you to look like an ass? Yes, wrenching favors. My attempt is not half-hearted from my side. I brought you here to strike an agreement that we owe each other nothing. I'm doing this as a matter of honor between men. I owned up to mine quite fine. Yes I was causing a ruckus," a lilt of a shoulder upward as his hand returns to the table, "I was mad at you for no good reason, because in all seriousness, we were, and are, even."

"Bah. Used you against Esther?" Alphard snorted with derision. "Of course I used you against Esther, you fool. If you have a weakness, I'll use it without bloody hesitation." With the brusque exaggeration born from irritation, the Slytherin boy pushed himself to his feet. "And further more," his dark eyes stabbed into Myrus with bubbling black malice. "Don't think I won't use your weaknesses against you. You and Esther started this, and everything that's happened since is on your shoulders. Everything. Even? Not even a little bit. There is no even until I crush you or you surrender. Did you honestly think this was a negotiation?! That we're somehow on equal footing? The irony here was I'd all but forgotten about you, Myrus. But here's some parting advice I thought I'd already imparted on you permanently: Starting something is easy, but it doesn't end until both sides put down their wands."

"I came here to give you a chance to make that happen. Next time it won't come as cheap as this."

Myrus stands up, Alphard's bubbling anger running at him like a steam engine. And Myrus thought he was quick enough to sidestep it with wit.
"Ah, there you are, old friend. I think I call that one fear." Act like your weakness is your strength, so the enemy will look elsewhere. "You. Are. Afraid." Myrus emphasizes every single word. The sound of a shovel, far off, digging the proverbial hole that Myrus is probably and unknowingly throwing himself into as they speak.
He points at Alphard with his hand close to his face, as though purposefully aiming that finger at him. "You're scared of being nice for once. Of actual kindness. Because.. hmm.. let's look at why, shall we?" He muses, putting his hand under his chin. Eyes narrow, "Were you never taught how? Oh! Beause you'd lose face with someone?" Myrus hmms, seeing how far he could push Alphard right here and now. "Because you hide behind your power aaaand… control… and~" he draws it out some more, "because you're scared of losing it!" He snaps, and points at Alphard eyes a little wide like he'd just hit on something he believes.

Alphard scoffed at Myrus with contempt. "You're an idiot, Lowe. And every word you're saying right now? One of these days I'll write them down on little paper notes, and I'll make you bloody eat them." His voice was quiet, but seething with malevolent fury. His time wasted, and at an early morning at that! The scion of House Black detested early morning. "I gave you a chance, which is more kindness than you fucking deserve." You knew Alphard was struggling with his temper when his upperclass snobbish tones were infected by common curses. "But you're too stupid to grab it. So be it. On your bloody head the consequences." It wasn't a pretty smile that he wore; feral, cruel. "And how long until you drag Esther into this, too, eh? Just as she manages to make peace in Slytherin, dragged down by her blood. She won't be able to help herself."

"It's sad, really. And you call me afraid? I am willing to sacrifice for people I care about. All your vaulted crybaby bullshit? Pathetic lies. In the end the only thing you care about is your own pride. You proved that here today. Own that, and remain on your high horse."

Myrus had to use every bit of will he had to not flinch when Alphard said he was going after Esther. That happy-go-lucky smile still plastered there. "You know how stupid you sound right now? Say you know what I care about, is Esther. And then go right around and say that it's my /pride/ that is all I care about. Make a choice? Because you'd dare not hurt my pride. Oh no, that's too big of you. Grown ass man, going after little girls who have just made peace with you. You're a coward. And I'm not a crybaby. You've done nothing but complain since I got here."
Myrus pulls the book to him by the near corners, grabbing what edge hung off the table to put it against his chest. "I'll say on my high horse, thank you very much. Because you," a tilt of the head to him as Myrus walks around the far side of the table towards the aisle, "are too scared to do it directly." Let's hope that's enough. All Myrus needs is him to become so flustered he makes a mistake. Keep badgering verbally. No wands out. Just assault the fact that Black never takes on a challenge direct, except after you put away your wand and your companion in assault has been stripped of hers.

"Why do I need to go after Esther? She'll come after me as soon as this little thing becomes public knowledge." Alphard murmured with a faux-pleasent tone, even if his eyes were glowing with pure murder. His temper had always been one of his weaknesses, passed down by his sociopathic grandfather Cy. Dear Cy. They got along great together. "All I'm doing, Lowe, is pointing out where your actions are leading you. Coward? Heh. Is that some sort of code word your little Ravenclaw mudblood buddies have cooked together? Edwards, Hart.. you. Do you think you can goad me? You? Why would I care what you even think. You're a little whiney girl. Oh dear me, I broke my hand!" Alphard mocked quietly. He turned away dismissivly, his long legs carrying him towards the exit. "You're all empty air, Lowe. Your supposed apology? Every word coming out of your mouth is just another reason why I expected more than just a 'sorry'. Because you're not sorry. Just pathetically predictable."

Myrus nods. "You know what," he turns around, looking for whoever it was that was looking for a book. They weren't there anymore. THey were alone in the library. Dangerous for Myrus, but at the same time, safe. He had looked earlier towards the person that was checking out books. ANd they were gone not long after.
Myrus then looks to Alphard. A smug little grin. "You're absolutely right. Alphard. I /should/ go get something to eat. OH my, look at that, it's time for breakfast!" Leaving the library, knowing that was was spoken here, will absolutely stay here. As he walks past Alphard. "Tell everyone you know, that you had an imaginary conversation with an imaginary ravenclaw in the library. Or, hurt me again. You can prove this conversation happened, and you assaulted me, or we can part ways as men, and once again, we're at the point where this conversation never happened, and you're losing your mind more than I am." There's a precise reason Myrus chose this early in the morning when noone would in their right mind be up and in the library.

Alphard didn't bother to respond to Myrus. He kept walking to the exit, and was going to be gone in seconds. He had a breakfast to get to, and perhaps eventually he had some plotting to do. Even if it might be tricky to get anything done until the end of the holidays. He had such a busy schedule.

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