It was a truth universally acknowledged amongst Pureblood society that a single heir in possession of a good fortune must certainly be in dire want of a wife. However little known the genuine feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering (or rejoining) of society, this 'truth' so well-fixed within the minds of the eligible ladies and their parents, that he is considered the rightful property of all them until, at last, said man is prevailed upon to make his selection.

"Amicus, love," Said Alecto to her twin early one morning, "Have you heard that Narcissa Malfoy has plans to reintroduce her cousin to society?"

Slowly sitting upright in the bed they had shared, Amicus rubbed the sleep from his grey eyes and replied rather irritably, "I had not."

"Have a look, brother." Insisted she, passing him the letter she had received from Petula Parkinson late last evening.

After slowly working his way through the three-paged correspondence, her vacuous counterpart tossed the rose-colored paper to the foot of the bed and feigned boredom with the entire ordeal.

"How cruel you are, sister, to have awoken me so early for such trifling news."

As it was a flattering jealousy that made the comely man so irritable, Alecto forgave him and smothered down the urge to strike him for his insolent tone.

"Must you be so thick?" She reprimanded, punctuating her words with a long-suffering sigh. "Can you truly not see why this is a matter of great importance to us?"

Though his vacant expression betrayed his cluelessness, Amicus was much too proud to admit to such puzzlement.

"Very clearly you have a great desire to tell me." He yawned. "So, go on, dear sister, for I am now awake and have no real objections to hearing your gossip."

As the desire to play narrator vastly overpowered her desire to castigate her bedmate's naivety, Alecto prattled onward without pause.

"Silly boy," Began she, "You must know that I am planning to prevail upon Mr. Black to marry me."

The jealous flush that rose to color Amicus's pale cheeks was expected, but the angry outburst from the usually submissive man was not.

"You are a cruel woman, indeed!" He huffed, working himself into a tizzy. "How is it that you can lie there and taunt me with such harsh words? Me, your brother, who loves you above all else. Tell me, Alecto, how could you even think such wicked thoughts?"

Alecto frowned at the sudden defiance but allowed it to go unchallenged, her primary focus engaged on matters of much more importance.

"If I am cruel, you are, in equal measures, brainless." She returned irritably. "That I should make Mr. Black my husband does not mean that I should make him my object worship. That title, I readily profess, belongs only to you."

"But how can that be," Amicus pouted, "When you so readily admit to harboring the desire to take another man into your bed?"

"You must not be so thick." Alecto once more chided. "A marriage between Mr. Black and I would be a union only in name. There will be no love and affections, only duty."

"But how can that be?" Amicus wondered, frowning with confusion. "A man does take for himself a wife for duty, not anymore." Satisfied with that small bit of coherence, the sleep-disheveled man prattled onward. "No," Said he, smiling smugly, "These days a man takes a wife for the love of her."

"Yes, brother, the young men can now afford such luxuries." Alecto agreed. "But Mr. Black, need I remind you, is a young man no longer. Unlike the youth who are now free to take their time in seeking a partner, Mr. Black has precious little time to select a wife."

"I do not follow." Amicus admitted with a blush. "Why must Mr. Black be in such desperate need of a wife."

Alecto rolled her eyes at the question but readily clued her other half in.

"It is simple, brother. If Mr. Black hopes to have children, he cannot put off matrimony much longer." She explained, slowly crawling out of bed. "Furthermore, Ambrosia Nott has informed me that Mr. Black may not even touch his father's portion of the inheritance until he marries."

"But why chose you alone when there a surplus of fine, young women for him to choose from. Why, the Selwyn's alone have five daughters, each of them as pretty as the next and only one still too young for marriage."

Wounded, Alecto turned from her armoire and lobed her hairbrush at the insensitive man.

"Am I not just as pretty as those Selwyn girls?"

Wincing as the brush made contact with his head, Amicus flung himself to the relative safety of the side of the bed furthest from his enraged twin.

"You are far prettier, indeed." He hastily assured. "But even then, if its women his own age he's after, he might set his eyes on someone else. Men are fickle, Alecto, that's all I meant to say."

"You are an idiot, indeed." She snapped. "Apart from me, what other woman our age is available for him to marry?" As Amicus opened his mouth to speak she cut him off, "And don't you dare say Severus Snape. That overgrown bat does not compare to me in any way."