Mulciber Citadel Ⅳ

The guests chatter and greet each other as the host of the hour, Mulciber Sr. mingles and greets his guests. However, he had not missed the expression of Evan Avery nor that of his son upon their return. Still he fulfilled his duty, before excusing himself to the privacy of his study, where there are already three figures waiting for him. The burly figure of Rosier Sr. can be seen stiffly staring out of the window, while Avery Sr. studies a cursed charred hand on a shelf, and Nott Sr. stands in front of the bookshelf reading some of the titles.

All three figures turn towards him upon Mulciber's entrance as he closes the door firmly shut behind him. "We shan't be disturbed," Mulciber said as Rosier shoots him an angry disgruntled expression, while Nott merely narrows his eyes, and Avery remains rather composed.

"Well?" Rosier harshly barked with a thinly veiled sneer. "Surely, you have not requested our presence in the privacy of your study to socialize, Mulciber!"

"No, I have not, Rosier," Mulciber arrogantly sneered back. "However, I wonder if that is exactly what you and Malfoy did with Pyrites?"

Rosier's face darkens as Nott Sr. puts a hand on his shoulder to calm Rosier down and hold him back. Rosier clenches his fists, before flashing his teeth in a snarl at Mulciber. "Vengeance was mine by blood."

"Mm, yes," Mulciber said dismissively as he sat down as his desk. "But I expected more of the both of you. The transportation guards have quite the large mouths. They were most willing to flap their mouths for a mere handful of galleons."

Seeing that Rosier's hand is twitching to reach for his wand, Nott glances at Avery, who takes the hint. "Enough games, Mulciber," Avery exasperated interjected. "What is the reason for this private discussion?"

"I am seeking a marriage match for my son," Mulciber admitted. "And though none of you have daughters except for Rosier here, all of you have family members with daughters. I wish to see him wed a pureblood."

Rosier's lips peel back in a triumphant jeer. "Who would dare marry their daughters to your son after the fiasco's at Hogwarts's and Durmstrang? Not even the most money hungry of purebloods of families would risk having their daughter's reputations ruined due to the actions of such a blackhearted son-in-law."

Mulciber tries to hide his anger at the blunt statement, but it was the truth. He had even tried sounding out well known families with daughters, and all had turned away his prodding's or more verbal requests. Naturally, he knew that he could marry his son to a squib pureblood girl, but he would not risk resorting to such desperate measures. He would rather his son marry a half-blood, then a creature with no magic at all that should have been drowned at birth.

"Mm, in that case, what of your daughter, Rosier?" Mulciber asked without shame nor guilt. "She is a rather homely girl without beauty and though a child now in ten years, she will be of marriageable age. We would be more than willing to wait that long for a bride."

Rosier's face turns purple with fury as Nott is all but holding Rosier back before he leaps over the desk and pummels Mulciber in the face. "Calm yourself, Rosier!" Nott desperately said as he clung to Rosier with all his might. "Do not forget yourself, Rosier, he is the host. And you cannot afford the disgrace that will follow."

Rosier snarled but quelled down as Avery with a hidden gleam of satisfaction proposes, "Well, there is always Peregrine, Mulciber."

"A dirty squib," Mulciber hissed in embarrassment of his greatest humiliation to have had such a child born to him.

"A pureblood heir," Avery coolly countered, "with an impeccable line, squib or not. And he is the legal first heir. And unlike your second-born, he lacks said disgraceful quirks. You always did spoil your second-born far too much, Mulciber, and look where that has brought you."

Mulciber is silent for a moment as he turns over the idea in his mind. The suggestion had been present in his mind ever since his conversation with Livus in the Silver Chalice. With squib's gaining power even in the Ministry of Magic, it was no longer an abhorrence to have such a child in one's family. And a marriage contract could be negotiated with specific clauses pertaining to any child that might be born a squib or magical.

"Say I do consider it," Mulciber finally said, "which families would be willing to marry their daughters to a squib?"

"One of the Greengrass branches, Mordecai Greengrass has two daughters, Edna, and Rosie Greengrass. The eldest is still unwed as is the youngest, but the youngest is a squib," Avery nonchalantly suggested. "It would be an excellent match as that entire Greengrass branch line is very fertile."

"An excellent suggestion," Mulciber murmured without promising anything. He would first have to see for himself, and then slowly gain a friendship with said branch, before proposing a marriage contract. And he would have to as that branch had a ruling ancient Veela as the family matriarch, causing him to shudder in revulsion.

"If that is all, then Rosier and I would like to see the gardens," Nott lied as he tried to put as much distance between Mulciber and Rosier lest Rosier attack Mulciber.

"That is all," Mulciber condescendingly dismissed them with a wave of his hand. Nott drags Rosier, before Rosier can retort back and hastily slams the door behind them.

Mulciber looks surprised to see the figure of Avery staring icily at him. "A word of caution, Mulciber," Avery harshly stated.

"A warning for me?" Mulciber mockingly said as if in jest. "About what?"

"Do you take me for a fool, Mulciber?" Avery mockingly jested back with a cruel streak in his eye.

Mulciber narrowed his eyes dangerously back at being questioned. "I have implied no such thing, but pray enlighten me."

"I suggest that your second-born walks with care, Mulciber," Avery plainly stated as he rose to his feet. "I will have blood for blood," before turning away and departing from the study without another word.

Mulciber grabs a pot of ink and throws it at the wall causing it to shatter into pieces and stain the wall and carpet. "How dare he threaten me!" Mulciber roared, before calming himself down and considering the words of Avery.

"Beat! Come here you worthless maggot!" Mulciber roared to hear a faint pop a few minutes later as the creature tremblingly appeared before him.

"Yes, Master," Beat murmured in a quivering voice.

"Bring me, my son, NOW!" Mulciber roared as a second later a faint pop could be heard as the house elf disappeared.

Mere seconds later again another pop is heard as cursing can be heard as Damian and Beat appear. "Unhand me, you foul beast!" Damian roared as he raised his hand and stuck the house elf with the back of his hand.

"Enough!" Mulciber roared causing Damian's fist to freeze in mid-air.

"Return to the guests, elf!" Mulciber ordered as Beat hastily beat a retreat and vanished.

Advancing upon his son, Mulciber towers over him and hisses, "What did you do to the Avery's, Damian?"

Damian's eyes widen before narrowing as he lies, "Why nothing father. It is merely a jest between boys."

"Do not ever lie to me again, Damian," Mulciber thundered as he slapped across the face leaving a bright red, already bruising handprint.

Damian's eye's mutinously narrow, before he spits back. "Fine, I used the Babylon candle on the Avery wench."

Mulciber's hand freezes in mid-air in blatant shock. "You did what?! Are you out of your bloody mind?! Did I teach you absolutely nothing?"

"You did teach me, father," Damian sullenly growled. "The Avery's were gaining far too much power and were siding more and more with the Prince's. Had it worked; the Avery's would have fallen away." That statement was not a lie, but certainly the most important reason had been left out.

Mulciber slowly lowers his hand, before saying, "Yes, well, the Avery's are out for blood. You are to stay away from those places of debauchery until I say otherwise."

Damian refrains from rolling his eyes, and lies, "Of course, father."

"Good now let us return," Mulciber said, before returning with his son in tow.

Damian mockingly sneers behind his father's back as he touches the burning handprint on his face. One day, he would be the head of the family, and he would have control over many lives. But until that time, he would just have to bide his time. However, his day was coming soon, and soon, he would have everything he ever wanted. Including avenging himself on the pathetic excuse of Evan Avery, who had gone and snitched to his father. How utterly crude, and gentlemen like of him!