It wasn't that he didn't care whether the House Cup was returning to his house in grand fashion that year, Henry was simply more keenly interested in the summer that was to follow the predictable announcement. They had undoubtedly clinched the trophy, he would willingly have risked going in the red on that wager, and he was glad of it. Unlike several of his house-mates, the most obvious being current company, his pride hadn't taken a beating with last year's results. He was on the reserves, after all, and could shrug off responsibility fairly easily when it came to such a dreary outcome. On that note, he saw the good news less as salvation, but as an excuse to put together one hell of a night, and he reclined against the trunk of a massive tree relishing the thought.

"If she weren't such a right bitch, Moran would be more than worth a roll,"

Grunting his agreement with a barely perceptible nod, Henry took a swig from the bottle. While Moran was an enticing thought, he held the rather surprising view that she could not be all that satisfying a lay if the chase was so easy. It wasn't that the chaser was known for being, well, easy, but that he was of the twisted mindset that the chase determined the quality of the product. If a witch was more difficult and proved that she wouldn't give it up to just anyone, well, there had to be a reason, right? He was following the basic rules of economics, as far as he was concerned, and he was convinced that by going after those witches that proved more elusive than the rest, he was guaranteeing himself an experience that would prove better not merely because no one else could taste it, but because it would actually feel more worthwhile.

Somehow the notion of experience rested on his shoulders alone; a witch's expertise didn't factor into his impression of a good lay.

"Niamh's something to think on," he murmured his appreciation, leaning his head back as the firewhiskey burned down his throat. "Gorgeous ass, and she's a bit kooky, isn't she? She'd go into a trance, I bet."

Lifting a brow with a hint of amusement, he flicked the butt of his cigarette and trailed on, "I want more of a challenge, 'specially before the years over - not just another fuck," he paused, smoke slipping from his nose before he exhaled, "But a conquest."