Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Andrés Fabián Alvear
Gender: Male
Age: 21
Blood Status: Pureblood

Education:
Hogwarts - Ravenclaw (Class of 1942)

Residence:
London, England

Occupation:
Genealogist

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

Requested Magic Levels:
Adult characters have 32 starting levels to distribute across these four categories (less levels can be used if you so desire, but no more than 32). The number of levels on the lowest ability must be at least half of the highest ability.

If you want levels above the usual 32 total, or a significantly uneven distribution of starting levels, please fill out and submit the Special Request form here.

• Charms: 5
• Divination: 8
• Transfiguration: 9
• Summoning: 10

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
No

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Lyra Spencer, Rory Hughes

Biography: (300 words minimum.)

---

This is terribly hard to write, for Papa told me today, my fifth birthday, that I am to have a treatment for my illness. It has already started, so I must write with my right hand.

Papa says I must regrow all of the bones in me so that I may be cured, but I feel muggle medicine might be able to do the trick. I told Papa so and he was very angry and told me I mustn’t be weak, mustn’t make our family look weak. But I think this is Grandpapa’s idea, to make me do this.

Grandpapa is even more strict than Papa and we cannot err in any way lest we get in trouble with Grandpapa.

Oh. I must go now. Papa is calling for me, probably for another treatment.

Yours Truly,

A.F. Alvear

---

I can hardly believe I am now at Hogwarts! It has been such an exciting time the past week, so I wasn't able to write until now.

The strange thing is I was sorted into Ravenclaw. I know Mama was one but everyone else in our family is either a Gryffindor or Slytherin. Save the little ones. I do not yet know what they will be, but many show tendencies for the lion and the snake, though one seems a bit different…

Papa wants me to play quidditch and it looks very fun, but I may be too weak to play it, for my bones are not as strong as those of another my age. However I still look forward to playing for Ravenclaw!

Anyway, it is very late. I have been talking to my cousin, who is in the same year as me, for hours, and I am exhausted.

Buenos Noches.

A.F. Alvear

---

I am glad to see you, old friend, who has accompanied me since my younger years. I apologize that I have not been able to write for a while. I was so busy at school and now in training that I had nearly forgotten you. Just nearly.

Papa has told me that I am to work for the Ministry. I suppose it’s what us Alvears do. Again, as I said so many years ago, I believe it is all Grandpapa’s wish.

My day is so packed that I do not have nearly enough time to take care of my brother and sisters (Val is such a pain sometimes!), so my cousin Azrael often comes to take care of them (Val at least. I am not sure about the others).

Also, I joyfully say that my other cousin, Ra’asiel is to be a seventh year! Nearly over with school...I can still remember him as a young little thing. I have always been quite close to him, for he too had the same disease as I do. We both are considerably better than we were before, but often I still have slight symptoms.

But I must run now. Training starts in a few minutes.

Till next time,

Andrés Fabián Alvear


Roleplay: 
You come across one of these posts on the site. Please select one & reply as your character:


Option One -
Amelia Nixon was many things, but she was never a pushover reporter that people could just usher away with a busy shuffle past. She was dedicated and eager to cut to the very middle of the current political tensions because she was Amelia Nixon and her articles would most certainly become front page material.

“Sir, please! It’s for the Prophet, how do you feel-“

Another one brushed passed her, the shuffling busy masses making their way through Diagon Alley for the lunchtime rush. This had been the best possible time to get people, but none of them were giving her anything to go with.

Only momentarily discouraged, the short red headed lady took a seat on a nearby bench. Her quill resting in her left hand and her notepad ready in the opposite hand. Amelia pouted, tapping the quill against her leg as she scanned the waves of people for somebody - anybody - who looked like they had something to say.

She had been dreaming of her name in bold print, Amelia Nixon: The Source of Today’s Tomorrow. She had been dreaming of the larger office and the secretaries that would fetch her the morning coffee and fetch her anything she needed. The VIP interviews and the most exclusive press passes. But all Amelia had was a page seventeen piece on the rising number of frogs in London.

Hardened by a day of no success, the reporter stood up and started to trod off down the alley. A loose stone on the cobble path caught her heel, sending the distraught girl toppling down to the ground.

“Merlin’s fog watch, my heel is broken! Help!” she yelled as she tried desperately to recover her shoe frantically in the middle of the Diagon Alley moving crowds.

Roleplay Response:
If anything, Andrés was a gentleman.

He was walking, hands in his pockets, head held high. Even if he was a bit small, he was still just as good as any of the others, possibly even better. In his mind, only the intellectual mattered. He was a fighter, just in a different way.

“Damn,” Andrés winced and muttered to himself as yet another nameless face shuffled past him and ran into his shoulder. His bones still ached it he was hit, and this was one of those moments. Except it wasn’t just one hit, it was multiple. But Andrés braved it with a slight nod of the head and continued striding along.

Out of the corner of his eye, Andrés noticed a spectacle. A girl, short and red-headed, feel towards the cobblestone.

 “Merlin’s fog watch, my heel is broken! Help!”

Yet no one attempted to help her up, just walked past without a word.

Andrés sighed and made his way toward the lady, who was frantically looking for her shoe. He had spotted the sharp heel and bent down to retrieve it.

“Hello Miss. I believe this is yours?”


OTHER
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