Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Sebastian "Bastian" Aurelius Lancaster
Gender: Male
Age: 85

Education: 
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 1900-1908, Ravenclaw

Residence:
Whitstable Estate, Whitstable, Kent, UK.

Occupation:
Wizengamot Member

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the Ministry, Shrieking Shack) or to take over an existing shop in need of new management?
Ministry of Magic (Wizengamot)

Requested Magic Levels:
If you want levels above the usual 32 total, please read the roleplay instructions carefully upon scrolling down.

• Charms: 14
• Divination: 10
• Transfiguration: 10
• Summoning: 16

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
Perseus Finch (already accepted) - Old Men's Club

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
William Lancaster, Eden Wolfe, etc.

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
When you get to be my age in a pureblooded wizarding family, you are perpetually caught between the fading fragments of a once glorious career and facing the certainty of having to personally bury the man who raised you. It is a way of life, a tradition in a world where everything seems uncertain, and that is a comfort if ever I've known one. William, at least, has one thing in his favor: he's already buried the man who raised him.

Let me be quite frank: it is not an easy thing to bury a child. Arthur had more bravery than any Lancaster in recent memory, and I daresay more promise than than my first son. Please do keep that to yourself.

As for William, I cannot say that he does not have any potential at all; indeed, I have heard as much from my contacts at Hogwarts. It is a simple matter of finding a technique that my grandson will respond to.

In my intermediary restlessness and boredom, I have taken it upon myself to help the boy along. He is fickle, and hasn't laid his path quite straight enough. His mother, as well, wasn't quite as pure as we would have hoped, but what choice do we have?

No matter - change is coming, and we need to be able to rise up to meet it. Recently, Perseus and I have talked of forming our own political party. It is just talk - it always has been. But this is perhaps the first time we've been mildly serious about it. The state of the wizarding world is indeed worrisome, and if no one else is standing up to challenge the status quo, who better than some of the most upstanding, permanent fixtures of the community?

After all, it only takes a small amount of influence to set in motion something that can bring down an entire establishment.

Not that we would have any thoughts to that kind of extreme action.

OTHER
How did you find us? Before you came into my life, I missed you so bad.

---

EXCEPTIONAL LEVELS
Answer these questions only if you are requesting levels above 32.

Why are you requesting higher than usual levels? e.g. Is your character a professor/auror/etc.? (1-2 sentences minimum):
Bastian, as a wizard of 85 years and a man preparing to take his father's place as head of the Lancaster family, has both received private training in his post-Hogwarts years and studied Conjuration theory throughout his career as a researcher and diplomat. Talking theory with his friends is one of his favorite pastimes in his retirement and between occasional obligations as a member of the Wizengamot.

Roleplay:
Reply as your character to the following:

Mr. Grunch smirked as stepped into the shadows beneath the overhanging eaves at the side of the street. There was a sort of alcove here, where two buildings came together, and the wall was set back just a couple of feet to make space for a drain from the battered lead guttering. It made it difficult to see if anyone was standing there until you were almost on top of it, and the shape of the roof up above cast an almost permanent shadow even then.

There were a number of such places along Knockturn Alley and Mr. Grunch knew them all.

Seeing nobody was nearby, he quickly cast the concealment spell that would obscure his features, making him unrecognisable, just a blur beneath the cowl of his thick, but worn, robes. He knew his target, had identified them some time before, as they entered the Alley. He had shadowed them, discretely, and now, he knew, they were heading back out again, towards the safety of the better lit Diagon Alley.

He heard the footsteps approaching. This was it, then. Just before they reached the alcove, he stepped out suddenly in front of his target, wand raised and ready.

"Give me all yer galleons, and any jewellery yer got! Don't try to hide nothin', 'cos I'll know, right? Do it now!"

Roleplay Response:

In many of the circles which Bastian was considered friendly, Knockturn Alley was a taboo, never mentioned outright or romanticized, but always an essential part of the wizarding community. Whether they cared to acknowledge it or not, most every witch and wizard had at least an occasional need for an item procured from Knockturn. Sometimes the item was received secondhand, other times a witch or wizard came face to face with a situation he or she thought impossible, requiring his or her very first trip here. Only the extremely naive denied the necessity of the place altogether.

Bastian, though he had made many of his own trips here in the past, was on an errand for a friend. A very loyal and dear friend, truth be told, and so he hadn't thought twice of not going through with it. He tucked a package wrapped in brown paper into a pocket of his overcoat, allowing a curt nod to the shop owner and stepping back out into the alley.

The air had begun to chill as the evening descended, and Bastian would be due home for supper within the hour. He walked briskly toward Diagon, where he could take the floo back to Whitstable. Apparition seemed bloody taxing these days, and the floo was just as convenient, anyway.

Almost undetectably, a figure emerged from the shadows to block his path. Politely, he changed his trajectory to simply walk around the man, but something was funny--

"Give me all yer galleons, and any jewellery yer got! Don't try to hide nothin', 'cos I'll know, right? Do it now!"

A quiet sigh escaped Bastian's open mouth. The unfortunate necessity that was Knockturn also tended to be a breeding ground for every despicable sort of criminal imaginable. "All right," the old man conceded, instantly altering his stature to make himself appear less threatening and raising his hands in surrender. "I'm reaching for my galleons," he assured the stranger, reaching into his cloak with one hand. Idiot, he thought.

"Stupefy!" he yelled, simultaneously pulling his wand on the man and aiming for his chest. In the next second, Bastian sent a jet of red sparks into the air, a universal sign of distress. Perhaps the dimwits who were supposed to be patrolling around here would actually do something right for a change.