It’s an odd sight in the wintertime to see Alastor without antlers. It’s a funny sight in early spring and summer as they grow out, fuzzy and bulbous. Typically, he’ll appear one day in late summer or fall, antlers cleanly polished after having shed his velvet at last, finally appearing, in his words, ‘presentable.’

So, it’s an interesting scene when one day, in the swelter of late summer, you spot Alastor in front of one of the hallway mirrors, smile appearing a bit strained with frustration. He scrapes at one of his antlers, where a large patch of velvet stubbornly clings on. His ear flicks as he hears your approach, and pauses in his attempts to speak to your reflection in the mirror, not deigning to turn around.

“You know, staring is often considered rude,” Alastor says, before picking at the velvet once more.