WHO: Thorfinn & Magnus Rowle. WHAT: Magnus isn't too happy with his brother's hobbies lately. WHEN: Wednesday, April 11th in the morning. WHERE: The Rowle Estate in the Outer Hebrides. WARNINGS: Vague talk of death.
Magnus popped a cube of sugar in his tea and stirred the liquid with a spoon, while he read over the paper. Just a whole lot of nonsense articles as per usual, but Magnus was more interested in doing the crossword puzzles these days. They were far more entertaining than any content that actually existed now.
He took a sip of the tea, as his older brother made an appearance in the kitchen. He raised a brow in acknowledgment and cleared his throat. He had nothing to say right now, and yet the news of Keats Avery's death was echoing through his brain like there was nothing else to talk about. (And perhaps, given the context, there was nothing to talk about.)
He set the paper down, and steepled his fingers together. "You could fake your own death, you know. And get the fuck out of here, I mean. You don't want to end up actually dead." He shrugged, not entirely joking with that idea.
At his brother’s suggestion, Thor snorted before moving pluck a mug from the cabinet beside the stove. After last night, he needed more than just a cup of tea, but it would have to do for now. He let out a long sigh as he readied the mug for tea, eventually pouring the still somewhat hot water from the kettle into it.
“That won’t anger all the wrong people in any way, shape, or form,” he finally said as he turned around to look at his younger brother. “Sure they would torture me to death just to show how angry they were.”
"I can literally forge you a death certificate if it means you get out of here, idiot," Magnus pointed out, rolling his eyes. He leaned back in his chair, but his eyes moved along to wherever his brother was, making sure to not refocus his attention elsewhere.
He frowned and leaned forward again, reaching for the teacup. "What are you even fighting for anymore?"
“They would kill you if you did that,” Thor answered in a tone he hoped would put a nail in the coffin of his brother’s idea. He was certain the Dark Lord and his devoted followers would have no problem ridding the world of even a slightly problematic pure-blood at this point in time. Though the offer did have a slight tempting touch to it, he couldn’t let Magnus suffer the potential consequences if the truth was discovered. “And you know exactly what I’m fighting for.”
"I don't," Magnus admitted to his brother. "Not after dad died, anyway. Is the cause so important to you that you're willing to die for it and not being around for your family?" he asked. It was stupid and Magnus firmly believed that all the Death Eaters would eventually scram like they did after the previous war. He wanted to believe his brother would make a better life for himself and not follow a stupid path.
He sighed. “It was important to Dad,” was all Thor could offer as he started preparing his tea. “He obviously felt it was that important. He wouldn’t have done it if he felt otherwise.”
"And look where that has him now," Magnus spat back, somewhat bitterly. He looked away, through the kitchen windows and at the backyard, frowning a bit. "Doesn't it feel weird that Keats is dead now too? That it can literally happen to anyone?"
“You could walk outside and get struck by lightning,” Thor offered. “You don’t have to be a Death Eater to unexpectedly die.”
Magnus settled for rolling his eyes and took a sip of the tea, careful to the touch. His gaze was still through the windows and he didn't know what else he could see to get his brother to see reason.
Several seconds later, his attention wavered slightly and returned to Thor. "So what's your plan if this all goes south?"
Thor frowned. “I’m not telling you my ideas. If things go south, who knows what they’ll do to get the information they want. But I have some things in place. Dad did too.”
"Stop letting him dictate your life now, you dick, he's gone. Mum needs you, Astrid needs you, I need you!" he exclaimed, clearly agitated. Raising one hand to his face, Magnus partially covered his face, and closed his eyes, shaking his head solemnly. "Do we mean nothing to you, then?"
“I said I had some things in place,” his brother answered as his own voiced raise. “I’m not too keen on dying right now, so trust me when I say things will be taken care of if this all goes down hill.”
"Whatever," came the stroppy response from the youngest Rowle.
Thor shook his head. “I’m not going to end up like Dad or like Keats or any of the rest of them. I’m not going to let you or Mum hear all about how glorious it is to die in service of the Dark Lord again. I promise.”
"Whatever," Magnus repeated, shrugging his shoulders this time, very acutely turning into the sixteen-year-old version of himself with a blink of an eye.
“Whatever,” Thor echoed as he turned his attention back to his tea.