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Victorians could hire 'professional mourners' to attend their loved one's funeral. These people would partake in the procession and were not allowed to speak, just look awfully sad! — Rune

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"The Prodigal Sister" for Ophelia Devine. Faked deaths, scandal, and schemes!
Kristoffer was going to be great at this, because he was great at everything. Also his memory was greater than everyone else's, because he bet no one else had ever lost their virginity somewhere exotic like Morocco. Hell, he bet no one else had even lost their virginity. Inexperienced losers.

Kristoffer Lestrange in Shining, Shimmering Splendour

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In the Midnight Hour
April 13th, 1888, Just After Midnight — Hogwarts Dungeons

“Hurry up,” he hissed at Simon as the pair made their way through the dungeons, their path illuminated only by the tip of Elijah’s wand. As in all cases, it had been the second year’s idea to try to break into the kitchen for extra desserts, and as in all cases, he had bullied Simon Yaxley into accompanying him, though the third year was dragging his feet horribly (literally AND metaphorically), thoroughly irking Elijah.

In truth, his lackey was beginning to grate on his nerves more and more, probably because he had been spending less time with Sebastian (aka his sane friend) since the whole werewolf Urquart nonsense had gone down—for the sake of appearances, of course. Simon was as poor a replacement as they came, and it was all the Slytherin could do not to turn ‘round and start hauling his step-cousin about by the ear.

Around the corner, a light moved towards them.

Shit!” he exclaimed at a whisper, freezing in his steps. This development had the exact opposite effect on Simon: the coward had bolted.

Elijah has heterochromia. His right eye is green and his left is blue.

MJ is a graphics goddess ❤ —
The Professor strode, a silver lamp suspended by ghostly hands gliding before her as she strode through the chilly, dark corridor. She was often fond of the dungeons; she'd spent the better part of her teenage years down there after all, making her evening patrols all the more enjoyable.

"Mr. Urquart," she cooed, perking one of her old, wrinkled brows as she rounded the corner. "I do hope you can explain yourself." The old woman stomped her cane in a display of intimidation, the sharp crack of it echoing ominously.

Elijah Urquart

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Elijah could not have said there were any professors he would like to meet in a dark corridor after hours, but if he had had to compile a list, Professor Wiltingham would have been at the absolute bottom. The transfiguration instructor was both ancient and imposing, and the second year doubted even his late father would have lasted long under the weighty stare of her glare. That she was a woman of means who chose to work anyways only made her more frightening, a mythological creature rather than a mere professor.

And her cane—he had heard rumours of it being utilized in detentions with the old witch, and did not wish to be the one to prove such rumours true.

"Y-yes, professor," he stammered obediently before it occurred to him that she would actually want said explanation.

Elijah has heterochromia. His right eye is green and his left is blue.

MJ is a graphics goddess ❤ —
Professor Wiltingham wrapped all of her old, wrinkled fingers around the silver head of her cane and stood patiently. She was very much aware of how she looked to students, and in some ways she thoroughly enjoyed it.

"Ah," she hummed at the boy, those large eyes of her unwavering. "Then you shall explain yourself; come along." As fun as it may have sounded to her, verbally eviscerating a student in the middle of a dungeon corridor was not something she cared to do, let alone a Slytherin student. Instead she lead him to the empty Transfiguration classroom in silence, occasionally cursing to herself at her hip when faced with a nasty set of stairs to the ground floor.

"Now," the old woman huffed as she lowered herself into the chair of her classroom desk with the help of her cane, music idly spilling out from the adjacent office. She blinked at him, a moment of silence filling the air. "Well, explain yourself."

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Elijah took a deep breath. This was going to require some A+ finesse to get out of, and the second year was not altogether convinced he was up to the task. Oh, he would have been with a pushover like Professor Skeeter or Professor Darrow, but the way Professor Wiltingham stared—glared—made him wish very much that he could simply evaporate.

“I was putting my things away for bed,” the Slytherin began, “when I noticed that my astronomy textbook had fallen from my bag. It seemed natural to think that it had done so on my way back from my astronomy class this evening, and so I went out in search of it so that I would not lose it permanently. It is not like me to be so careless with my things, Professor, and I’d hoped to remedy the situation quickly!”

Of course, this entire play depended on the witch’s knowledge—or more accurately, lack thereof—of the first- and second-year class schedule. Would she know that he didn’t have astronomy on Fridays?

Elijah has heterochromia. His right eye is green and his left is blue.

MJ is a graphics goddess ❤ —
Professor Wiltingham's chin raised in the air, her mouth drawn tightly against her wrinkled face; she might've looked like an old, hairless cat had it not been for her obvious lack of feline ears. She hummed a quiet noise of concentration as the boy finished, but the edges of her pale lips curled.

"Ah," the Professor cooed, "I see, then." The old woman nodded to the boy, a piece of parchment rolling to life on her desk, a quill suddenly scrawling across it.

"Thank you, Mr. Urquart," she continued, "though I must ask you, do you truly think I am that stupid?" Wiltingham stared at him for a moment, "for I can only assume you do, considering you must take me for a fool."

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