"Papers. Forged letters." They could mimic an old student's handwriting. It's not even particularly difficult, given a sample and a bit of work with Charms.

Heine is still watching Eichel's body burn. Fiendfyre isn't as hot as a crematory furnace, but he can let it go for as long as he needs to. With a glance back over his shoulder and a hand gesture, he shuts the door more firmly and seals it. The process is something to focus on so he doesn't have to pay attention to the rattling growl in his head.

His hand still hurts, a bit. Heine wonders if he can sit by the fire until it's over or if he should move.