Lawrence Musgrave had a new friend. Fancy that. He might have the scruffiest digs, considering his shoddy case of finances, but he was at least alive, well, and daresay having a bit of fun these days.

The Demon's Head in Knockturn could attract some of the more affluent in the alley, and with them, Lawrence could try his hand at dipping pockets or working a few leads. He was recruiting to annoy the Ministry. Brown was already gone, replaced by Tamis Raynor, pity he had been quite taken by the way Admete had disposed of him that night he'd lurked on her doorstep.

"Ever cast an unforgiveable?" He asked his drinking companion seated opposite him across the table. He felt he had met Arrow a few times now to have both demanded his company that evening, and also to ask him such personal questions. Lawrence had been honing his use of imperio for the past few weeks. It was a lot easier to hone without causing so much noise than crucio.

No one could ever accuse him of looking down on people, Arrow had friends from all walks of life and he was here with one of them.  His newest friend was not one of luxury, but just recently released from Azkaban.

"No, can't say that I have." Arrow answered him and then took a long drink.  Not saying that he had never thought of casting one, he just never felt it was important enough to use and land him with a one-way ticket to Azkaban.

"Really?" Lawrence asked, appearing to be genuinely surprised. He was quite sure that most people who wandered down Knockturn with any regularity had at least tried a bit of crucio. But as he read Arrow's face, ascertaining any doubt that he could spot in the man's expression, mannerisms and the curl of his lips, he realised the younger man was speaking the truth - or was a fantastic liar.

"Oh you should," he told Arrow, sitting back, "they're somewhat overrated with their titles, but that are incredibly handy to have at your disposal." He leaned forward again and tilted his head, "nobody would be beating you up after the pub if you took one of them down with crucio, believe me."

Taking a long sip of his beer he studied Arrow intently beneath his mop of hair,
"Never dared, or don't think you're capable?"

Arrow studied Lawrence intently for a moment before answering, "never dared to try.  I know I could do it, goodness knows I have the intent down, just I don't think I'd have the stomach for it."

He smiled a bit at the mention of the way he was roughed up by four thugs in the Alley.  "Truth be told, I probably deserved that beating... I did try to steal the man's fiancé' after all." he smirked.

"We'll go out, have a few brandies, you can crucio a cat, you'll soon get the hang of it." Lawrence brushed the notion of Arrow not having a stomach for unforgiveables.

"If she interested enough for you to try and 'steal' her, son, then she wasn't much of a fiancee to him, was she? Women, never faithful." He tutted, shaking his head, black and grey curls bouncing about his temples. He took another drink.

"Pretty though, was she?" He asked.

There were worse things to be beaten up for.

End