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First names were most often used by childhood or school friends. If the friendship was made after school age, first names would only really be used by women. Men were far more likely to refer to their friends by their surnames, a mark of familiarity. — Documentation

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Emilia Wright for Jude Wright. Casually alienating offspring since 18882.
Separating was also not a great idea, though they weren't doing great at staying together anyway. If she were to volunteer to be the human sacrifice.. well... Hogsmeade had plenty of debutantes anyway...

Barnabas Skeeter in CYOA: Group D

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Complete threads set in ten different forum locations. Threads must have at least ten posts, and three must be your own. Character accounts cannot be combined.


Veni, Vidi, Vici
2nd August, 1888 — Borgin & Burkes, London
Kristoffer Lestrange
What the fuck was she supposed to do with this?

The letter in her hand contained the usual books list – longer this year than ever before thanks to OWLs – a reminder to parents that the first day of term would occur on the same damned day it always did, and a small metal badge that sat in the palm of her hand. The sheer unlikeliness of its arrival was staggering and Trixie had forced herself to forget it even existed before today. Girls like her didn’t get to prefects: she had been sure it would be the wolf-lover and she would spend a term miserably avoiding getting punished for no reason.

The bell above the shop door drew her out of her reverie and she looked up from her late letter (late because her brother had lost it rather than the Head of House sending her letter via senile owl) only to find a most unexpected, but welcome, face. Generally speaking their customers were of a certain kind and that kind almost always had a degree of grubbiness that matched the shop perfectly, but to see Mr Kristoffer Lestrange strolling into the shop, looking like a cocky Adonis made flesh, one would have thought Borgin and Burkes was a suite at the bloody Sanditon!

“It seems I’ll be joining your lot soon enough,” she said by way of a greeting, holding up the prefect badge that was the navy twin of the one she had seen attached to his chest. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad after all? They had their own bathrooms and excuses to be out after hours… “Shame I won’t be able to send certain people to the stocks for the whole of term,” she added with a roll of her eyes that turned into an ingratiating smirk, nodding towards a pile of wood in the corner of the shop. “Ours make you reveal all your secrets.”

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fabulously moody set by Bee <3
By this point, he had cycled through the five stages of grief in a whirlwind and landed straight back on denial when he woke up again, because his Head Boy badge had still not arrived (assuredly with a grovelling apology letter for the mix-up, now) so there had to be some disgusting mistake.

In desperate need of distraction, Kristoffer had stalked down Knockturn Alley, near-oblivious to everything around him, and pushed his way into Borgin & Burke's, supposing this would cheer him up or set him on the path to vengeance nicely; either way.  

Seeing Miss Borgin sent a pleasing thrill through him, at least, although one that was sharply punctured by her news, illustrated by the prefect badge she had in her hand. His expression - a smirk, surprise surprise - twisted into a frown ever so briefly, because this was news that was now bittersweet, and the barest reminder might send him reeling back into a sulk. However, Miss Borgin was someone - almost despite himself - he had every inclination to impress, and so he smirked back, a little more magnanimously than usual. "Congratulations. I suppose it's good to see they haven't completely lost their minds handing those out." After that, Kris scoffed aloud, grateful to be able to glance towards the stocks she pointed out so he could disguise the bitterness in his face before he leered back her way. "You'll have to make up for the rest of them, stocks or no." (Perhaps there was something in here that they could get away with using, at least.)  

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   Atticus Sharpe

Frowning Trixie didn’t waste a moment wondering what he meant. She doubted she would discern it from simply staring at him, pleasant though the activity was, and it barely took her a moment to realise that his congratulations might be genuine enough but he was definitely put out about something and it wasn’t her. The thought gave her a thrill.

“What do you mean they’ve lost their minds?”

She would hazard a guess that Frida was a prefect too, as she doubted the head of Hufflepuff had the imagination to choose anybody else, but that wasn’t that bad was it? She was innocuous enough in Trixie’s estimation but on the other hand Frida wasn’t her sister – silently hating ones siblings was an art she had mastered herself after all.

“Have you heard who got the other ones?”

Senace Lestrange for Slytherin she would guess. That was fine wasn’t it, even if the student staff team were threatening to be made up almost entirely of Lestranges? And he was Head Boy clearly, so… oh. She had forgotten.

Bloody idiots.

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fabulously moody set by Bee <3
He wasn’t sure whether it was better or worse that she had to ask, because now he had to admit it aloud, and that was rather like getting a bludger to the groin every time it happened.

“Well, Frida,” he said first, which was not to say they’d lost their minds, only that they’d been scraping at the bottom of the barrel. This might be a turning point for his sister, a chance for her to make something of herself; more than anything, Kristoffer was put out by the fact that she hadn’t offered him nearly enough of the commiseration he deserved about...

“And Turner, Head Boy,” Kris declared, each word heavy with disdain. He was Miss Borgin’s housemate, so perhaps she would defend that choice: of course, if she did, that would merely be another disappointment to add to the cartload, at this point - just another bloody waste of his time.

He hoped she wouldn’t be, or at least that she wouldn’t have the nerve to laugh in his face, but he daren’t risk any seeming any more vulnerable than he already had, ‘til he knew. “S’pose I should get him something in congratulations,” he added sardonically, scuffing the nearest object-for-sale with a careless kick and looking away from the stocks for something more - suitable.

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