Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG

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→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.
Name: Dilys Lucienne Owens

Birthday: July 15th, 1933

Hometown: Defynnog, South Wales

Bloodline: Pureblood

Magical Strength (pick one):
Transfiguration

Magical Weakness (pick one):
Divination

Year (pick two): 1st or 2nd 

Biography:
If you are applying to be a first, second, or third year, your biography must be at least one hundred words long.
If you are applying to be a fourth year or above, your biography must be at least three hundred words long.

If Ariadne Pétion was known by her hot temper and acerbic tongue,  Gwillym Owens was known for his  quiet patience and shy demeanour. The day they first met was characteristic of them both. A minor misunderstanding occurred which resulted in Ariadne flinging a flagon of beer in poor Gwillym’s face. In response he simply wiped it off and stood to leave. Thankfully, she was swift to apologise - on that occasion at least.

It was Ariadne’s spirit which was both Gwillym’s bane and admiration. At eighteen years old she carried herself world-knowing even though she had barely stepped foot out of Port-de-Paix. As the eldest of seven children her place was at the Pétion family apothecary, a position that was both a duty and a cage. It only served to stir her restlessness and it was perhaps this that Gwillym sensed most deeply. He stayed in Port-de-Paix for only a fortnight. When he left, she accompanied him as his wife.

For a time they were more than content. As a wizarding archaeologist, Gwillym’s work took them all over the world. The burning in Ariadne’s stomach to explore and experience was satiated. Together they tasted the baklava of Lebanon, explored the ruins of Epidaurus and sailed down the Varanassi River. Yet Gwillym had his own sense of growing restlessness. Unlike Ariadne he had travelled many long years and while companionship alleviated his desire for home, it did not cure it. Cadwallader dreamed of the green hills and sunken vales of Wales and in a time far shorter than Ariadne would have liked, he determined to return. The greater shock however was that they returned not to Cardiff, nor Swansea, nor even the small escarpement of Aberystwyth. Instead, Ariadne was to reside with her husband on a farm next to the small village of Defynnog.

This time it was not simply a flagon thrown at him.

She was satiated, somewhat, with the gift of a small studio and pottery. Here Ariadne could spend hours in her art, painting and sketching the wonderous sites she had seen, and dreaming of when she might be free to explore them again. The last thing Ariadne wanted was a child to tie her down. Yet mere weeks after their move to the deafening quiet of Defynnog, Ariadne discovered her pregnancy. Gwillym was delighted. Their daughter’s birth cemented the small home life they had forged. There was more reason now than ever to refuse overseas trips and stay close to home. She was given the name of her paternal great-grandmother (though the woman was long dead) and they stayed, the three of them (along with the chickens, the sheep and the donkey).

Still, Defynnog was a strange place for a pureblooded child to grow up. While she was afforded open space to run amok Dilys was in many ways isolated from her peers. Gwillym had never had much to do with wider magical society. While he was an alumn of Hogwarts, his introverted nature had resulted in a small and exclusive group of friends. Even then his career as a travelling archaeologist severed any ties he might have carried from school. The most social interaction he ever really got was the triannual Archeology Club meetings. Ariadne too had few connections. Her foreignness already alienated her from the small network of women in the village. Add to that the strange clothes and odd customs (which, little did they know, was entirely characteristic of a witch) it is not surprising the Defynnog Women’s Association never sent an invitation to join them.

Finally, there was Dilys herself. She was always collecting peculiar things in her pockets. Dead bugs, live newts and prickly thistle. In third grade, Miss Prepon the assistant teacher found a frog colony growing in her desk. Then there was Melody Jones who Dilys argued with the day before the Christmas concert. Even as fellow classmates restrained each of them, no one could explain how Melody’s hair began to turn a bright, inexplicable turquoise blue. There were few who were prepared to associate with Dilys, save a few of the local boys who respected her difference enough to let her tag along on their various escapades. That suited Dilys enough. Building cubbies and endless games of capture the flag were far more fun than dress-ups and dollies.

The Hogwarts letter thus came as something of a relief to her parents who perhaps started to realise (a little late) that their daughter was somewhat lacking in friends. Dilys herself was less pleased. Despite knowing the day would eventually come, she was used to ruling her own little world. A big school meant teachers, rules and worst of all, having to share a room. A very big change for a small girl which would no doubt result in a very tumultuous year.
 
→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.
Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.

House Request: NA

Personality: Dilys is independent, intelligent and resourceful. She is quite happy to go her own way and break from what might be expected by a group. Indeed, there is a tendency for this to happen quite often. Her instinct to lead coupled with her stubbornness and self-absorption means she finds it very difficult to compromise. Furthermore, she is severely lacking in manners. Dilys will often interrupt conversation and talk loudly over people if she feels she is not being heard. These traits naturally mean she often finds team-work quite challenging, and whatever team she is on find her most the biggest challenge of all.

Yet Dilys at the heart of it is an extrovert. While she can be bossy, indignant and insensitive Dilys does enjoy the company of others – her negative traits are in many ways a response to a longstanding feeling of loneliness. She also has a decent measure of courage and persistence. Once she has her mind set on something she’ll pursue it, even if it scares the bejeezus out of her.

Appearance: With a Haitian mother and a pale, fair headed Welsh father, Dilys has acquired a light, umber complexion. Like her father she is prone to freckles, and has a splay across the bridge of her nose which extend to the outer corner of her eyes. Her eyes at a distance appear almost black - when inspected closely they are a very dark brown. Her hair in style is just like Ariadne’s. Naturally is it a wild mane of black tendrils which form a frame around her head. In an attempt to tame it, her hair is often pulled into two round buns which sit behind her ears.

Dilys is a skinny kid, all arms, legs, knock-knees and flat chest. Her legs are covered in small white scars – bug bites, old scratches and the occasional bite from something that was less than willing to be held. She is constantly losing house points for her scruffy standard of dress. An ironed shirt and clean skirt don’t exist in Dilys’ world. Her pockets are constantly bulging with various accessories. Stationary, potion ingredients and occasionally a spider or small lizard. She has a tendency to slouch.

→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.
Option I:

Blimey, the Great Hall was packed. It seemed like everywhere a guy looked there was some clown waving around a House banner or yelling about the game.

'Can you believe it?' 'No way!' 'This must be the biggest upset in Hogwarts Quidditch history...'

Stupid Quidditch.

James flopped into an empty seat at the end of the table, shoved an empty plate out of the way, and let his head sink onto his crossed arms, squishing his freckled nose down flat against the tabletop. He wasn't sure why he'd even bothered to come here, since he definitely wasn't hungry. He'd probably never eat again, in fact. He didn'tdeserve to eat. He hadn't stopped in the locker room to change out of his muddy, sweaty uniform after the game either, because he was pretty sure he probably didn't deserve to be clean too; and anyway he couldn't stand to see the looks on his team mates' faces after he blew their chance at winning one of the biggest games they had ever played.

Just one lousy shot. That's all it would have taken. If he could have just got that one stupid foul shot to go through that one stupid hoop, they could have won and he wouldn't have been the biggest blockhead in the entire school.

As if to prove the point, half the people at the next table suddenly broke into a loud victory chant. James pressed his face further into his arms to hide the bright red blotches he could feel creeping up his cheeks. That was it. He was just going to have to run away and move to Nova Scotia. He'd just cost the three-year-in-a-row Champions the Quidditch Cup! How do you ever live that one down for crying out loud? He was only a second year and he was going to spend the rest of his life as 'that dumb cry-baby kid who dropped the Quaffle!'

It felt like every set of eyes in the room was boring into him, and James couldn't stand it anymore. He jerked himself back up from the table and stomped right back out of the Hall the same way he had come in. As he stormed into the quieter hallway outside, he could hear footsteps somewhere behind him. James rounded on the sound and began to shout, his brown eyes shining with tears. "WHAT! Haven't you ever seen a loser before? Why don't you just take a picture!"
 

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Dilys hoped beyond hope that it would be pies for lunch.

The image had come to her the moment she woke up – a crisp golden crust with a delicious creamy filling.  Her morning eggs on toast had done nothing to satisfy her craving and so she had bided her time, waiting for the clock to strike twelve. Finally at half past eleven, she could stand it no longer, leaping off couch and racing towards the Great Hall.

She ran out of puff not a hundred meters from her potential satisfaction. Slowing to a walk, Dilys licked her lips, imagining the salty, buttery taste of the pastry.

“WHAT!”

Dilys jumped.

“Haven’t you ever seen a loser before? Why don’t you just take a picture?”

The seconds dripped by as Dilys tried to fathom what was going on. A strange boy, not entirely unfamiliar, was staring her in the face. He was clearly upset as his eyes glistened, though why Dilys couldn’t fathom. Instantly, she glared, black eyebrows furrowing savagely. Was this some kind of joke? Normally she would have just gone straight for the swing, but the twenty house points she had lost last week for the same action still felt sore around the ears. Dilys didn’t mind fighting, but she did hate getting told off. It made her stomach all gurgly.

“First of all,” she started coolly, eyeing the boy with suspicion. “I see losers every day. You’re just another one. Secondly,”

Dilys placed her hands on her hips.

“I would need a camera for that. Wouldn’t I.”

Duh. This kid was clearly disturbed.

“What’s your problem anyway?”






→ ABOUT YOU.

Please list any characters you have on the site (current and previous): Hero Savage, Elspeth Battersea, Aingeal Dwyre, Hannah MacDonald.

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