( drew starkey | cis man | he&him ) — was that amycus carrow passing through diagon alley? those close to them say they remind them of smile lingering in the face of danger; fire that dances beneath one's eyes - shall we burn it all to the ground?; clenched fists, knuckles bruised and scarred; a rebel without a cause, you were moulded by spite, which i suppose seems to fit that slytherin alumnus. they’re actually pretty resourceful, cruel, and impulsive for a twenty-seven year old, but i wonder if it serves them well when working as a hit wix in the ministry of magic. rumor has it that the pureblood is aligning with the death eaters. i wouldn’t have guessed… but this is a conversation we should be having somewhere else.
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full name: amycus carrow nickname: none he likes gender / pronouns: cis man & he/him dob / age: tba & twenty-seven ethnicity: english sexual orientation: bisexual blood status: pureblood loyalty: death eaters (unmarked) education: hogwarts house: slytherin
hair colour: the light brown where you know he was blonde as a kid eye colour: blue dominant hand: left tics: clenching jaw, drumming fingers distinguishing marks: scar across his right eyebrow
once a bright, sensitive kid, so far ago it seems almost like a dream, one far from reality. the memories of laughter despite father's cruetly and cold gaze, a light that could shine despite carrow manor's oppressive, sultry darkness. what do you do with all this love when you have nowhere to give it, no one to receive it? you get rid of it and you are moulded into what you were meant to be.
sensitivity and emotions turn into spite and anger. towards father and mother, towards the world. amycus doesn't have much of a childhood, from both lessons and mr. carrow's creative punishments to being dragged along into meetings with important people or playing the charming son in mother's social events, the carrow heir begins to look down on his peers - wasting their time with silly, childish games, they could never handle what he did, deal with all his responsibilities. jealousy had turned into arrogance. he didn't want what he couldn't have, anyway. and whatever he wanted, he would get.
at hogwarts he is very selective with who he surrounds himself with. purebloods or peers from well off, influential families, his equals. the rest amycus will engage with only when he needs something, making them a part of a 'grand scheme' or whatever he had come up with at the time. he spent little time on the subjects that didn't interest him as grades did not matter - why would they? his future was set, he was to inherit everything his father owned and built, or inherited from his father before him. money or such matters as worrying about his future job would never matter to a carrow.
so at hogwarts he focuses more on the social aspect of the school, in other words - doing dumb shit with his mates, parties and quidditch. as expected, not long after he graduates a job at the ministry is guaranteed.
a useful asset to the dark lord as there are rarely any lines he wouldn't cross, amycus fixates on receiving the dark mark at last. not so much for the cause itself or even voldemort, but because he was good at his job. he belonged there. it both killed him and made him feel alive.
headcanons & other.
very obsessive when he has a set goal, but achieving it doesn't bring much satisfaction as he moves onto the next thing. hates the feeling of boredom or emptiness which prompts some of his worse decisions <3
he is the older twin and won't let you forget it but also it means he is very much of an eldest sibling, cannot grasp the possibility of ever being wrong or people not abiding to his every wish (which is automatically a command) (he knows best) (he's just taking care of people you see).
was raised with blood purity ingrained in his mind, yes, but tbh he's more so just classist. he doesn't vibe with #poor purebloods either.
thanks to spending most of his childhood among his father and his associates, amycus can argue for hours without budging or easily slip into politician sweet talk where he's being charming but not really saying anything of substance.
full of spite and anger that has been penting up since early childhood. joined the hit wix forces as a way to channel all that pent up energy into physical work (besides infiltrating the ministry from the inside to be able to help out death eaters, but u know)
trust issues + major both daddy and mommy issues (everyone around him vc: yea we can tell)
wanted connections.
best friends from childhood or the hogwarts days till present day
most likely in the same group as the above but his bestie fellow death eaters
past or current flings, though he probably wouldn't have wanted anything serious.
enemies. this is very broad but there's lots to do bc he is unsufferable and has done lots of ppl wrong whether on purpose or not (most likely on)
workers at the ministry who know he works with the death eaters but have no proof & are on his ass waiting for him to slip up. amycus quite enjoys the cat and mouse games.
betrothed that he avoids as much as he can and is looking for loops to delay or break it off. maybe he thinks she isn't the right choice or thinks the time isn't right as he'd rather focus on death eatery stuff.
partner in crime, they bring out the worst out of each other #toxic #defnothealthy <3
WHO: morcant nott & open
WHERE: diagon alley, street near gringotts.
WHEN: late afternoon
Morcant had a day off, which rarely happened for the unspeakable squad in the Ministry. He considered himself a very productive person, so he decided to put his financial affairs in order. After dropping by to see Alecto, he headed to Gringotts. He had several investments and assets in his name, and although goblins were very reliable to make money, they weren't very trustworthy.
There, things went as expected. Some of the most important investments had major drops due to the war, so he had to rearrange a lot of things. When he left the bank, it was the late afternoon and his head felt like exploding.
During all of this, his familiar, a black kneazle named Odin, walked dutifully by his side. Right after they left the bank, however, the feline stopped to smell someone.
"Odin, no. Come on, stop being rude." He chastened the kneazle, who promptly ignored him and stopped right in front of the newcomer. "I'm so sorry about him. Are you in a hurry? He's being trained to detect magical imbalance, so I think he might be worried about you."
headed towards the bank with usual steady, sure steps, amycus eyed down the kneazle currently attempting to block his path -- had he not recognized it immediately, he would have carried on his merry way. instead, he looks up and around, gaze darting around until he spots odin's owner. " yeah? i am perfectly balanced in every way. perhaps your kneazle is broken. " amycus mutters, kneeling down to spare the creature a pet or two, lost in thoughts for a few moments. " it's good that i ran into you, actually. say, nott, have you got any plans for tonight? "
the day had faded into a quieter night, and the cobbled streets of diagon alley seemed darker than usual. ever since she'd left home, paranoia had followed her—along with arrogance, the lingering belief that she still mattered, that she hadn’t been entirely forgotten. with her hands buried deep in the pockets of her cloak, steady steps accompanied her, ignoring the flicker in the glass of a shop window, the sound of footsteps falling into rhythm with her own as she tried not to fall back into old patterns of mistrust. and yet, her fingers twitched towards her wand, allowing her figure to be swallowed by the shadows when she turned precisely into an alley, spinning on her heel, wand raised .
“ why are you following me ? ” her voice was sharp, cutting through the air in a way that once felt more familiar than it should have.
with knockturn alley just a few turns away, amycus had been so focused on letting the night sky and hood above his head hide recognizable features in the shadow as he slipped through cobbled streets quick and effortlessly. almost taken aback at the sudden interaction and accusation, the carrow reconsiders the first reaction he had in mind at the sight of the familiar face of one of the black sisters. hands let go of his wand and instead, he lets the hood down and instinctively runs his fingers through short - cut hair. " don't flatter yourself. i've got more important things to be doing. " amycus stretches his palm beneath his robe - he is on edge, but demeanor doesn't truly show it. instead, curiousity glints in observant eyes. " you know, people don't usually get paranoid about being followed unless there's a reason someone would be following them. "
