As the sun began to set, Blaise went to track down Theo, intent on sharing at least some of this misery with someone else and, though he was loathe to admit it out loud, needing an ear, maybe a shoulder. He found the man, curled up on a sofa in an out of the way family room near the attic. Theo had gone for clear liquor and was currently nursing an almost half-empty bottle of gin between his large hands. Without saying a word, Blaise sat on one of the dusty chairs in the room, taking slow but deep pulls from his own bottle. He wasn't entirely sure how to break the silence, how to address the hippogriffs (plural) in the room, so he waited to see if Theo would.