The Parlor
Amycus was also quite glad that Narcissa was Narcissa and not their mother, who had been admonishing her youngest child all night on the subject of his posture. If Mrs. Carrow had happened upon them at the moment, she would find that Amycus hadn't taken her chiding to heart one bit, slumped as he was in his chair, one ankle propped on the knee of the other leg. He had been tugging on the stiff and rather itchy collar of his dress robes as he listened to Alecto talk, crunching on the ice found in the bottom of his brandy.
The rules of propriety were usually lost on Amycus unless his mother happened to be hovering over his shoulder, threatening to box his ears. However, he did sit up a bit straighter in the presence of their hostess, and nodded to her. "Lovely party, Miz Malfoy."