Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Flynn Grady
Gender: Male
Age: 34

Education: 
Hogwarts: Gryffindor House

Residence:
Wizarding London

Occupation
Aspiring Professor

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?
No

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: 10
• Divination: 7
• Transfiguration: 8
• Summoning: 5

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
N/A

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Simon V. Gaelian, Catherine Gaelian, Jadis Cross, Phinneas Upright, Vincent Gaelian

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
Flynn was born as the youngest of 7. Not only was he the baby of the lot, but also the only boy. Now, you can imagine what it would be like for a young Irish lad in a household of women. Utter drama. So often he was drying the eyes of his eldest sister Megan while trying to break up fights between Jonie and Bess. It was rather exhausting, yet his love for his siblings as well as his parents could not be matched.

Flynn was close to his father, who was his mentor and a saint in his eyes. He worked hard as a farmer, making sure there was enough food on the table. Even Molly the cat was included. Yet, when Flynn was 9 years old, his father passed due to cholera, and the young lad was striken with grief. It was during such a time that his first magic manifested. He was slumped in the stool, milking Annie the cow lazily. His eyes glazed over reminiscing the time when his father taught him how to harvest grain. Grief took hold of him and with bitter sobs, the lad wept and wept. During this time, however, the humble amount of milk in the carton splashed up, choking him with surprise. He couldn't explain how it happened, and his mother thought he was making up some wild tale. Yet, when the owl arrived, no one could deny it. Flynn was a wizard.

He was sorted into Gryffindor, and due to his affable behavior, he made fast friends. He was likeable, handsome and curious to try new things. Yet, his curiosity was a bit too strong, and often experiments with potions and the like would blow up in his face... literally. Also, the lad was rather absent minded. Quills were always misplaced, papers were out of order and he even forgot that Molly the cat had decided to use his trunk as her bed and locked her in there for hours!

Still, professors found his weaknesses tolerable given that he wasn't a terror. Graduating Hogwarts was rather bittersweet. Flynn adored his stay and soon his heart called to him to become a professor.

Currently, Flynn resides in wizarding London with a geriatric Molly and humble earnings. He keeps in contact with his Muggle family regularly with owls, yet fears for his safety as prejudice against Muggleborns seems to increase.

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.

Option Two -
The snow had been falling steadily all morning and it didn't look like it was going to stop any time soon. Joshua Campbell scrunched his face up in a frown as he lifted his gaze to look to the sky. Snow. It really was quite a bother.

And it certainly didn't make it better that Diagon Alley seemed to be getting more and more crowded. Joshua sighed and pointed his wand at the large box that was currently placed on the doorstep of his shop. He had to get going. He had an order to deliver.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" The elderly man muttered and watched the box hover in the air for a moment. Honestly, did St. Mungo's really need that much tinsel? And with glitter of all things? He sighed again. If it hadn't been for the rather convincing stamp on the order, he would have been likely to believe it had been a prank by one of those orphaned rascals living up there. 

Oh well, there was no point in waiting. Joshua deftly stirred the box down the doorstep and out onto the street, carefully levitating it above the heads of the crowd.

"Coming through! Coming through!" His voice sounded over the chatter of the crowd. "Keep out! Move ahead! Go on!" This was going way too slow. People were in the way and walking like they had all day! He huffed. Luckily the road was down hill.

"Coming through! Coming th--- arrrgh!" Joshua let out a loud shout as his feet suddenly slipped in the snow and sent him, the box, and several long strands of tinsel tumbling into the person who had been walking in front of him.

"For Merlin's sake!" Joshua muttered angrily as he hurried to his feet again, red and gold tinsel now decorating his black coat. "I am so sorry! This blasted snow!" He looked apologetic at the person he had crashed into.

Roleplay Response:
"Now where in the hell did I put it?" Flynn muttered, patting his pockets. "It'll just be a moment... so sorry."

How embarrassing. The Irishmen knew his coin pouch couldn't be lost. He was just at Gringotts for Pete's sake. The bartender drummed his fingers on the bartop, exhaling with an exasperated sigh. Flynns face burned red. He had nearly drank 3 whiskey's and now had nothing to show for it! Clearing his throat he offered a sheepish grin beneath his beard.

"If ye don't mind... perhaps I can check outside?" he suggested. The bartender gave him a judging stare. "I'll just be right there! You'll see me! I won't stiff ye, I promise. Even if I have to clean dishes for a week." With a roll of his eyes, the bartender complied.

Racing out of the pub, Flynn scanned the cobble stones. He cursed himself for chosing a gray pouch. It blended in awfully well... if it was there at all. With a clicking of his boots, he waved to the bartender, making sure he was making true on his word. Then suddenly...crunch!... the ball of his foot found his treasure.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," he cursed dusting the pouch off. "I swear I'd lose me head if it wasn't attached to my---"

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

Saline green eyes shot up to see a rather pretty thing in distress. A smile crossed his face as he rushed to her side, catching her by the arm so she didn't ruin her dress as well.

"Ach, took a nasty spill there, lass," he said with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. "But I think I can help ye." Brandishing his wand, he pointed to the heel. "Reparo," he announced, and instantly, her shoe was fixed.

"See? Good as new." His eyes twinkled. "What say I buy ye a drink? Ye seem to have had a long day, and I could certainly use the company." He offered his best grin and patted her dainty hand.


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