Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG

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→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.
Name: Lucille Gemna Hopland

Birthday: May 2nd, 1928

Hometown: London, England

Bloodline: Halfblood

Magical Strength (pick one): Charms

Magical Weakness (pick one): Conjuring & Summoning

Year (pick two): Seventh (Preferred), Sixth

Biography:
August 27th, 1945

Unobtrusively, so as to make sure the very air in the room left her presence unmarked, Lucille ran her fingers along the surface of all that she could reach. The Headmistresses’ desk, the quills and ink (-of which she took the time to straighten-) stationed immediately to the right of the stack of no doubt important documents ready for her perusal, the plaque with her name on it, and then later the books and ornaments that lined the walls around her.

The candy went untouched for about a millisecond, mind immediately drifting to the stern words she’d given herself regarding her diet, and then she took two. Certain things had changed, you see.

She nibbled on a skeletal head as she did her slow turns around the office.

It was nostalgic being back home. Little had changed in the architecture of the school, which was reassuring. As someone who hated the idea of change as a child, and had been suddenly thrown into a world of it as a teen, seeing the familiar stonewalls of Hogwarts made the homecoming just a little sweeter. It soothed her.

Having poked her nose in nearly everything that caught her attention, that being primarily trophies and moving pictures of memorable moments (and one that looked suspiciously like Emma Birch, which hung right beside the one of her own daughter), Lucille approached her seat.

Her foot caught on a nearby stool, oddly out of place in the room, and the second she made to reach for the lump of worn velvet that’d flown off, the cloth croaked out a single sentence--

”Back so soon?”

--and all hell brook loose.

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Lucille could barely stand still--not that she did usually, but this time it was worse. Her fingers were gripping her dark robes and her eyes darted from table to table, barely registering the different faces. When the grouchy looking woman leading the group had disappeared for a moment, leaving the first years exposed to the rest of the school, she just about had a panic attack.

The ride on the train had gone without a hitch, despite the fact that she'd managed to annoy an older girl not even ten minutes after getting on board, and the boat ride had been mind-blowing. Hogwarts at night was definitely a sight to behold and none of the stories some of the older years told her over the summer did it justice.

But going through that was the easy part.

Now, as she stood in the midst of a large group of some frightened, some ecstatic first years, she was terrified. She could feel the million pairs of eyes on them and unlike some of the other students this wasn’t a situation she could casually brush off – this felt too much like being abandoned.

But then the grouchy la—Deputy Headmistress (she was a student now, she had to use proper terms) came back and she could breathe easily again.

The woman brought something with her, too; a dusty, old hat. It looked well worn, floppy and like it was going to crumble into pieces at any second. Then suddenly, one of the slits that she perceived to be a fold parted and it began singing.

She didn’t know why a singing hat surprised her so. She’d grown up around magic her whole life, but something about a piece of fabric belching out a (not at all) random song eased her nerves some. It was silly and felt like a preview of what was to come.

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Lucille froze.

The hat opened its mouth again, for what, she couldn’t have known, but the first thing her mind flew to was its infamous Opening Feast song. And as someone who was told to stay put while the Headmistress returned, her hands flew over the slit that served as its mouth and shoved her fist inside.

“No! No. shhh, I was just sent here to…try you on!”

It made a spitting sound, or something. Whatever it was sounded unclear around her fist.

”I’ll have you know--!” She recoiled her hand once she realized what she’d done.

“I need to be sorted!”

”What?”

If it had eyebrows it would’ve raised one at her Hufflepuff attire. She wasn’t even sure if this was how returning students were accepted back into the school. All she had to go off of was in her third year, she believed it was, Nathaniel Ellwood-Luxe had left a Slytherin and had come back a Gryffindor. The boy had refused to sleep in his own commonroom he’d been so disappointed. Was he the only exception?

She hoped so.

“That’s right. I need to be sort—uh, resorted.”

The hat settled both in temperament and as she placed it in its proper position on the stool; she rubbed off the specs of dust that’d gathered from its fall for good measure.

The hat was silent for a stretch and Lucille gripped her hands in front of her. All of this for the off chance the hat wouldn’t mention her blunder to Ivanova was surely not worth it. It was necessary, but not worth it.

”Alright,” she crinkled her nose in trepidation at its next words, ”put me on then.”

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And finally, the Deputy Headmistress rolled out a piece of parchment and began the main event. And just like that Lucille’s nerves were back full force.

”Hopland, Lucille.”

She let out a small whimper and ducked her head, pushing her way through the group. Her eyes were focused solely on the stool and she hurried over, tripping slightly on the first step, and plopped herself down unceremoniously. The hat was placed over her eyes and reached one hand up to feel it. It wasn’t as soft as she'd imagined, but it was funny how even at the worst of times her curiosity managed to shine through.

Apparently the hat seemed to think so too.

”Do I meet your expectations?” There was a dark chuckle and Lucille blinked slowly under the hat. ”I guess not.” Could it read her mind?

The hand that was feeling its side scratched it briefly, and she thought as loud as she could, “Hi. What’s your name?”

”An uncontrollable curiosity, I see. A hint of playfulness and plenty of warmth to go around.” A pause then she he it continued, ”My name is the Sorting Hat, child, nothing more.”

“I know but wha—“

”HUFFLEPUFF!”

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Oblivious to what this meant, Lucille clutched at the hat with both hands and smiled the kind of secret smile that stretched from ear to ear.

Although the way she’d come about it was manipulative, the idea of being sorted again had its charm and the old excitement from her first sorting stirred up.

It wasn’t like anything had changed anyway. She wasn’t Nathaniel.

Taking a seat on the once occupied stool, Lucille placed the hat carefully on her head. Despite being six years older than the previous time and with half a decade's worth of growing behind her, the brim still spilled over her forehead like an untamable fringe, and suddenly she was eleven again with eyes too big for her face and a whole lot on her mind.

(It felt like home.)

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And the year had begun.

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.
Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.

House Request: Anything but Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, please!

Personality: As someone who once depended wholly on the support system of her friends, and after a year of having no one, Lucille’s changed. The idea of ’give her an inch and she’ll take a mile’ still applies twofold here, but she knows that if she wants something, it’s better to work for it herself. That is, she no longer asks, she simply takes. She’s learned to be harder on herself, and she’s gained a whole new perspective on life, on people, and on what she wants for herself.

No longer will there be a wide-eyed, baby-faced teenager staring back at you when you look her in the face. Instead you’ll meet the gaze of a budding young woman who has cried herself to sleep far too many times in the past year and a half. 

The naivety that clung to her as a child and early teens is all but gone now, and that invincibility she carried like a cape draped over her shoulders has been abused so many times it’s weighing her down and tripping her up; the fact that she’s even standing on two feet is a miracle.

Her loneliness hit her like the backhand of a nun’s curse, and for the life of her, coming to terms with the fact that her actions led to what was one of the lowest times of her life was the perspective she needed to pick herself back up. She regrets a lot of the decisions she made, but given the chance she wouldn’t change them.

She has intense emotions and passionate feelings, higher highs and lower lows, than most, but now she fears the lack of control. So whereas she once wore her heart on snot-stained sleeve, she’s careful about giving her friendship so willingly.

She’s also uncontrollable and restless, realistic and magnetic; she likes to think she’s unattainable, but if there’s something she wants, she’ll get it. That much hasn’t changed.

Appearance: She’s grown into herself a lot since the last time I wrote this, both vertically and horizontally. But she’s still a ginger and that’s all that really matters.

→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.
Option 1:
She hummed a low tone as she walked. Both mindful of the sweet time she was taking and anxious to meet up with her loved one. Her mind was jumping to several excuses she could use as to why she was late for their study date, all of which the Gryffindor wouldn’t believe, but as she’d learned the hard way it was better to be prepared than empty handed.

Her tune picked up as she noticed she wasn’t the only one traversing the dungeons. A brave feat for someone so small, and aware of her surrounding, too? That much couldn’t be said for herself as a first year. She’d never known what was up or down.

Softening her footsteps so as to not come thundering through the corridor like a bull and potentially frightening the child, Lucille picked up her pace.

It was no longer a matter of quiet, however, she truly was going to be even later than she was.

Coming up behind the first year, Lucille paid no mind to her words. It must’ve been older-year that’d sent her down there with the idea of capturing some ghost. Well, she could assure them both the scariest thing down there would be Calypso if Lucille never showed up.

“Careful,” A hand left the books clutched to her front and drifted over the first year’s head airily, “Call for her three times and she might appear.”

(Merlin may she rest in peace.)

→ ABOUT YOU.

Please list any characters you have on the site (current and previous): Lucille Hopland & the workers of Dunder Mifflin.

How did you find us?: Google

CHARACTER INFORMATION

Character Name: Lucille Gemna Hopland

Gender: Female

Age: 11

Bloodline: Halfblood

Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): 
NPC(s) – Agatha Hopland (née Ebersbach), Ruther Hopland, Annalise Hopland [Current Guardian]


Residence:
1102 Stonebroker Street, Second Floor, Flat #6, Wizarding London

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)?
Nope, don’t think so.

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:
None.

Biography: (100 words minimum.)

Lucille Hopland was born to Agatha and Ruther Hopland on May 2nd in a sleepy town just along the border of Scotland and England. She was their first and only child, but was more than a handful for the usually, soft-spoken couple. Lucille, being born at a staggering 6 lbs. 4 ounces, was always slightly smaller than everyone her age. She bruised easily and because of the fairness of her skin the bruises showed quite clearly through all her clothing. Many of the adults who saw Lucille as a child believed her parents were at fault for the bruises when in reality Lucille could never sit still. Her outlet for her energy, and later her uncontrollable magic, was running around, climbing on things, exploring, and generally putting herself in danger. She was a brave child – that much was obvious – but also reckless and an accident-prone like you wouldn’t believe.
 
Lucille’s mother, Agatha, was a German muggle who met Lucille’s father, Ruther, an irish halfblood, while he was on an “intelligence gathering” mission for the Ministry of Magic in Germany. They fell in love in the middle of his mission and despite the dangers Ruther tried his best to spend as much time with her as he could before he returned to England. On the last day of his assignment, he finally realized how much he needed her and convinced her to move to England with him. It’s safe to say a little over 6 months later the happy couple was married and settled in a small cottage in Bellingham, where two years later Lucille would be born.

Lucille’s mother and father weren’t the wealthiest lot around; however, they worked hard before getting together and the small amount of money both their families left them allowed them to live comfortably, and spoil their only daughter to their heart’s content. (Within reason of course.) Lucille had her parents wrapped around her little fingers like no other. She learned early on in life that a simple puppy dog look, or a twirl of her ginger curls and a cheeky smile could have them bending over backwards for her. Her parents could be stern at times with her too, but for a little girl she could be just as persistent, if not more, when she wanted things to go her way. She was blunt too, preferring to get straight to the point than dawdle about meaningless things. “Wasting time that could be spent playing” is what she calls it. However, underneath that stubborn-mule personality she likes portray is an utterly innocent and pure-hearted little girl. One who knows nothing about the cruelty of the world she lives in and could be as ignorant as a newborn baby.

But like all good things her picture-perfect childhood came to a sudden end with the time warp.  When the year rolled back around to 1937 Lucille’s mother stayed in the present time, or “future”, and Lucille and her father were on their own. Lucille’s father was crippled by the loss of his wife and became a shell of his former self, slowly withdrawing day by day. It wasn’t until the middle of the summer in 1937, when Lucille’s paternal grandmother contacted them to make sure they were all right, did things start looking better. Once Annalise Hopland, a squib who got caught up in the warp, realized the terrible mental conditions her son and granddaughter were in she moved in with them to try to support them as they grieved the loss of Agatha. Although it didn’t show until a few weeks later, Lucille was relieved at having a mother figure in her life again, and slowly started coming out of her funk. She ate more, sulked less, and was becoming her exuberant self again.

Her father was a different story.

No matter what he tried he simply couldn’t get over the loss of his wife. And after making sure Lucille would be in good hands with his mother, Lucille’s father quit his job at the Ministry, left all his money and possessions under her name (which she would gain full rights to once she turned eighteen), and left his mother a simple note:

Mum,

I’m sorry but I can’t go on without her. I leave Lucille in your hands. There’s enough money in her bank account for her school funds and the house is yours to do with it what you will. Don’t bother searching for me; I won’t be found.

I’m sorry,

Ruther

P.S Tell Lucy not to give you too much trouble. And give her a big kiss for me too, for both of us.

Lucille’s grandmother found the note first and tried to break the news to Lucille as gently as possible, but Lucille knew before the words even left her mouth. She had seen the way her father looked at her before she left for the day with her grandmother. His eyes held their usual grief but there was something else, something worse. She remembered feeling his arms hug her a little tighter than usual and she had hugged back just as hard thinking it was a game; who could squeeze the hardest?

During the weeks that followed, Lucille’s grandmother packed up their stuff, sold the cottage, and whisked them away to a small flat in Wizarding London where they currently reside.

Roleplay:
Reply as your character to the following:

Godric Park.

Overhead, the sky was a crisp blue, for once clear of the ever-pervasive spongy clouds and rain. The sun was a lemony-yellow presence, high in the Eastern sky, and in front of it zipped three broomsticks in a straight line, or something very like one. One... two..... three... the boys passed, their shouts of excitement echoing as they chased the snitch, a tiny shimmer reflecting the sunlight.

Far below was another, much smaller broomstick.

It trugged along the ground, hugging close to it like a sluggish choo choo train and occasionally shuttering in protest. This was because said stick was currently being occupied by a very small girl who was tugging upward on the front of it with all her might, trying to coax it into doing what it had been expressly designed NOT to do.

"John, I said wait up!" The tiny girl squealed, giving the broomstick another tug.

Begrudgingly, it drifted upward a foot, and then sank, depositing the troublesome girl safely on the ground. Janey Hurst was not pleased. In a huff, she hopped off the toy safety broom, grabbing it firmly and thrusting it handle first into the turf.

Her brother was such a beast. He NEVER let her play! She folded her arms, seething blue eyes fixing on another figure nearby.  "You!" She barked, much more sharply than she meant to.

"...Do you want to play?"

Roleplay Response:

There was only one thing on her mind as Lucille clambered down her favorite willow tree in Godric Park, the branches bending ominously as the little girl effortless made her way back to the ground. If she was someone else she would’ve been terrified of the fragile branches splitting right down the middle from her weight, but the trees had been there as long, if not longer, than she had. If nothing had managed to damage them before what would 60 lbs. extra do? Nothing. Besides Lucille had been climbing trees ever since she was a mere 6 years old. Nearly gave her mom a heart attack, but the view is always worth it.

Lucille let out a muffled gasp as one of her sneakers missed a branch and her whole body leaned back precariously.

“Focus Lou, you need to get home fast and breaking a leg won’t stop mamie’s wrath if we’re late again!” The young girl reprimanded herself under her breath, and once her feet hit solid ground she took off running. She had approximately two minutes to make it to the park’s entrance to meet her grandmother and the park entrance was a good quarter-mile away. If she sprinted the whole way she could probably make it, but sprinting a quarter mile was not on her to do list that day.

The sensation of something flapping against her shoe pulled her from her frantic thoughts and with a quick look down she realized her shoelace was untied. She reminded herself to not step on a pathway with potential tripping hazards and looked back up to see where she was going. Unfortunately for her by the time she did look up another figure was upon her.

“You!” The other girl said. “Do you want to play?”

“No! Watch out!” Lucille tried to pivot her body as to not crash into the girl as she ran past, but the girl’s sudden appearance and her own momentum proved to be too much, knocking both girls to the ground in a pile of limbs. “Geez Louise, what is your head made out of?!” Lucille brushed the other girl’s foot off her shoulder and reached around to rub the sore spot on the back of her head. Her clumsy fingers prodded it harder than she would’ve liked and she winced at the sensation, letting out a disgruntled noise. That was definitely going to bruise.

OTHER
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