HeadGirlMC | Treddie & Trixiver <3 | Copy Girl | Katie's Ickle Minion | I love YOU more Strangely Elias agreed that the segregation of students was a little odd. For a community who had tried hard to correct the prejudices that had once run rampant of which his family were not exempt from, they sure liked to separate them in other ways. Personally he did not care particularly for house pride, he was pleased that he was a Slytherin and would not want to be anywhere else but winning the house cup was not something on his agenda. The Sorting Hat had briefly deliberated between Ravenclaw and Slytherin for himself but had made the decision fairly quickly otherwise without Elias having to even voice his own opinion. “I wouldn’t blame her if she did.” Elias himself had felt like hexing his young brother on occasion when Evander was feeling particularly irritating. As for how the third year hadn’t hexed his own housemates, well he couldn’t guarantee that he had not flicked a bat bogey hex towards an unsuspecting second year.
Technically he was not being derogatory on purpose. The Hufflepuffs really DID feel like the ‘others’ in that they did not fit a strong characteristic of one of the other houses. “I’m not being rude, I’m being honest.” And wasn’t telling the truth, even if it was his truth and not that of others, a valued trait in itself? “Besides, I’d argue that those traits can be seen in any of the houses which further cements that the Hufflepuffs have no discernible traits for themselves.” Surely the Ravenclaws were hard-working and the Gryffindors were loyal and the Slytherins were oddly patient when planning behind the scenes.
Answering the riddle would mean that Evander would have to stop and think, which was evidently a very difficult task for the Gryffindor. It would also involve him using his brain which Elias was quite sure didn’t function half the time. “He’d get himself lost on the way there” the Slytherin rolled his eyes. Once again that would involve him thinking ahead, a task that he was not so talented at.
He’d visited the graveyard before but did not take pleasure in wandering its grounds. Perhaps it was the uncomfortability of the thought of all those ancestral eyes bearing down on him, of the pressure that if they were still alive they’d be reprimanding him constantly to ‘be better’. It was bad enough that their grandfather’s estate had so many portraits hanging up who just loved to make comments. “I cannot help my hair colour” he rolled his eyes again, flicking his growing fringe away from his eyes with a toss of the head. “I’d rather others think of me as intimidating anyway, they might keep out of my way then.” Elias liked to pretend that he was independent and preferred the company of himself which in many ways rang true but he was from a large family and when in the right company, the young lad flourished. “I bet I could” he argued, twirling his wand which he had removed from his holster in between his fingers almost like a visible threat. Whether he would was a matter up for debate, he’d get in a lot of trouble from his parents if he chose Ezra as his target.
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