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Author Topic: Oren Grünewald  (Read 492 times)

Oren Grünewald

    (01/04/2020 at 22:44)
  • Sixth Year
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Application for Hogwarts School


Name: Oren Grünewald

Birthday: September 30, 1942

Hometown: Winterthur, Switzerland

Muggleborn / Halfblood / Pureblood / Unknown

Magical Strength (pick one):
Divination / Transfiguration / Charms / Conjuring & Summoning

Magical Weakness (pick one):
Divination / Transfiguration / Charms / Conjuring & Summoning

Year (pick two): Sixth / Seventh

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.

The Grünewalds are germaphobes. Wendy Grünewald, née Walton, had been impressed with Stefan’s dedication to impeccability when she had met him before the war. The war had been a dirty, filthy affair, and the Grünewalds emerged more wary of the dirt and grime than ever. They also managed to make it out with a baby in tow.

Oren Grünewald has always been pale and pink. His parents have scrubbed him with gloved hands since he was born. Skin to skin contact was largely discouraged, and rarely offered. The first time another person touched him with affection had been jarring. If it isn’t cold and inanimate, any touch feels illicit and strange.

Educated at a Swiss school of wizardry, Oren always felt the order of his life keenly. Everything was ordered in a way that made sense, that accommodated his needs. He was always and forever pristine, charming, and unknowable, until the day he wasn’t.

Carefully controlled, Oren doesn’t lose his temper. Tempers, like dirt, are too messy to handle, but covered head to foot in dragon dung, Oren couldn’t keep a handle on himself. Messy didn’t begin to cover it. Staring at his skin, his clothes, the way it fell from his hair and into his eyes, Oren faced a crisis of self heretofore unheard of in the Grünewald line.

He never made a choice to retaliate. He never thought of a fitting punishment. The buttoned-up, careful Oren vanished, replaced by rage and malice. He was blind with it. There are stories about the would-be prankster, and Oren couldn’t recognize any of himself in the cruelty of them. The other boy had been shaken, but when Oren had seen him last he had been perfectly whole. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t meant any of it, that he had never been trouble, that everyone seemed fine. The code of conduct had been flagrantly disregarded, and there must be punishment. Oren was expelled.

His parents, to their credit, did what they could to appeal the decision, but there had never been quite enough understanding of their particular needs at the Swiss school.

The prank was more than most people thought of it. Oren was seen to have overreacted. It was a narrative he couldn’t escape. For Oren, it was more than dirt or manure, it was the crushing weight of failure and disaster and ruin. His flesh seared with the memory of its weight and grit for weeks as he scrubbed his skin to pink. The smell stung his nose for days. He still doesn’t feel clean.

You come across one of these posts on the site. Please select one & reply as your character. Remember, you can only roleplay your own character's actions, not Evangeline's or Hugh's.

Option 2:

Gardens were by no means a usual haunt of Oren’s. Dirt, pests, all best avoided. Homework, on the other hand, couldn’t be gotten around, and he hadn’t been able to convince his group to do this elsewhere. Somehow, he had managed to get through the ordeal without trying to peel his skin off, but he desperately needed to leave.

A skittering creature crossed his path, and he froze, eyes darting to assess the situation, hand resting on his wand. He couldn’t tell where it had gone or what it was, but Oren was sure he wasn’t interested in having it anywhere near him. As soon as he could figure out where it went, he could navigate himself out in a different direction.

Then a rather dirty, scruffy looking boy popped up.

Oren’s mind worked like a clock with a missing gear. Everything fell apart in his mind as he stared. There was dirt on his robes, a string of snot down a long sleeve. His skin felt covered in fault lines, all of them cracking the earth open at once.

”Can I help you with something? It is not polite to stare.”

Disgusted and horrified, Oren tried to hold himself together as he took a few unconscious steps back. “What…happened to you?”


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* Merryl Midthunder

    (02/04/2020 at 17:06)
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  • Head of Gryffindor
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Dear Mr Grünewald,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Term begins 1 May 2020. Currently, students have gathered at Camp Loki, and we encourage you to spend your summer there. Should you choose, you may also visit our Elsewhere board via the Floo Network to visit or purchase school supplies.

Yours sincerely,
Merryl Midthunder
Head of Gryffindor

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