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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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Bros Before Hoes
April 11, 1888 - Thomas Tilcott's Bartonburg Rooms
Thomas Tilcott Rufus Bixby
David had been bored since the night at his brother's, not really sure what to do with himself in Hogsmeade. The small little wizarding town didn't really feel like home anymore, not with as much moving around as he did. It was still the place he went to when not off doing his own thing though so clearly that meant something, didn't it? Regardless, he'd hated every minute of it and as soon as it seemed to be an appropriate time to head to Tilcott's rooms in Bartonburg, he'd headed straight there.

A couple of bottles were stashed inconspicuously on his person, shrunk down to easily be tucked into pockets, as he loped up the steps to his friend's rooms. He'd brought extras after the mention of Bixby joining them, sounding as though the other Quidditch player was in need of the added boost.

He knocked on the door and waited patiently but the patience didn't last long. He probably hadn't' been standing there for long but it felt like an eternity before he was pounding on the door again. He could certainly hear movement in there so he knew Tilcott was certainly in there. "Open the damned door you bloody bastard," he shouted to the door, not bothering to keep his voice quiet. Surely the other man would open the door sooner if David started to make a scene.
It started with three knocks in quick succession and Thomas peered over from his small desk and smirked. He wanted to play a game.

Holding onto his wand, Thomas shuffled on his chair and began counting. David, Thomas had come to know very early in their friendship, wasn't a very patient man at the best of times though the chaser had never explicitly tested these limits on his friend - and what better way to test it them now?

One. Two. Three.
So far so good.
Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen.

Thomas stood up, put his wand on his desk, and moved to a small cabinet he had in his room which housed three glasses. He pulled them out and put them down on his desk loudly - just so David knew he was there.

It took not 17 seconds before the barrage of bangs accompanied by the sweet sounds of damned door you bloody bastard and with that, he opened the door with a swish of his wand.

Thomas started laughing as he moved over to greet his friend, "Why the shoutin', Davey? All ya' had to was knock, you bloody imbecile." He said through his laughter, leaning in to shake David's hand and give him a welcoming pat on the back.

Moving back to the desk, Thomas sat on his chair - there was another one situated at the end of his bed by a wall - and flicked his wand toward the door once more.

The door slammed shut and Tommy turned to his first guest, "When Bixby gets 'ere, I want you to hide in my closet and jump out when I say... er... erm... hag-breast." Thomas shrugged, "And I'm seein' a distinct lack of alcohol, David. Don't make me upset now." Thomas said with a mocking upset expression.
There were two things that Rufus had learned from the arrival of Miss Fortuna Lockhart’s last letter. One, that he had most certainly led her to a certain conclusion that could not be maintained. Two, that he would miss her friendship. The dejected hurt that spread through him as he read her letter with shaking fingers had indicated that the hurt went deeper than simply missing her companionship and her company. But she had been right, it was better to leave her alone, regardless of what his feelings for her might have been. She deserved to be able to find someone that would be able to not make her wait. Someone who would not mean that she would live life with anything missing financially. It was one thing to flirt with a young woman, but to know their feelings went deeper…. Rufus couldn’t lead her on like that. He cared about her too much - and that was the very truth he was terrified of facing.

Ignoring his own feelings Rufus simply knew he needed a night out. He needed to get Miss Lockhart and her books, her conversations, and her damnable smiles out of his mind. What better way than to catch up with old friends? When Tommy had sent him the invitation Rufus had of course accepted, it was even better that Pettigrew would be there, but now with these circumstances? He was more than thrilled to indulge in such an evening. As such he arrived at Tommy’s apartment right on time and knocked on the door with something close to relief that he’d no longer need to think of the letter now folded in the back of his desk.

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David narrowed his eyes in a glare once Thomas finally did answer the door. "I'll show you bloody imbecile," he said with a snort as his hand was shook and back patted. He stepped inside and promptly flung himself on the man's bed, completely ignoring the chair. He had no ideals of sitting on a hard old chair when there was a bed he could be properly comfortable on. Besides, he was still suffering from the massive time change and the cold weather of Britain. He really should see about simply staying in the warmer climates at all times.

"You're a damned idiot," he said at the man's idea of hiding in the closest though he couldn't help but to laugh, "I'm not about to get in your damned closet. I know you well enough to know I'll wind up locked in it and then who knows what will happen." He was still laughing even as the Quidditch player started acting as though he were tough in regards to alcohol not having been brought.

He fished into his pockets to procure several tiny bottles of alcohol and laid them out on the bed. "I couldn't very well be seen walking around with full sized bottles of alcohol now could I?" he questioned as he brought his wand out just as there was a knock on the door. "Let him in quicker than you did me and I'll get to bringing these back to their rightful size." He started doing just that, each bottle different from the rest. One a good ol' firewhiskey, one a bottle of mezcal style tequila with the worm in the bottom like he'd shown Thom, another tequila though of a higher end, a gin he'd found in South America and then a brandy. Certainly plenty to see the three gentleman thoroughly sloshed.

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