E L S E W H E R E A D U L T
Character Name: Montague Chevalier.
Age: Type 32.
Blood Status: Half Blood.
Hogwarts ravenclaw alumini 30.
Wherever he lay his hat was his home
Book store owner
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?
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 (http://hogwarts-school.net/sortinghat/index.php?topic=1178.0).
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
- Charms: Type 12.
- Divination: 6.
- Transfiguration: 8.
- Summoning: 6.
Type your response here.
Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Biography: (300 words minimum.)
My name is Montague Chevalier but please call me Monty. I was born on September 28th 1912 in a town called Montpellier in the south of France. My mother was an English Muggle who fell in love with a noble French wizard Nortier Du Chevalier. Whilst my parents were very happy together Nortier’s pureblood family were not too happy about a half blood running around sullying the family name and I was told on several occasions that they would rather a pureblood squib and the most successful half-blood wizard... always nice to hear on your 10th birthday. My father died in the Great War defending France and my mother thought it would be nice to move to England and raise me with her family, mainly due to the threats she had started to receive from grand papa, he was a charming sort. During my first year at Hogwarts my mother who knew nothing of where i was or what was going on was involved in a tragic accident involving roughly 1 metric tonne of potatoes; grandfathers sense of humour you see, he always referred to her as that farm girl. Seeing as how i was at Hogwarts I was rather well protected; international wizarding laws combined with a huge array of charms hexes and all sorts of nasty things hidden in the dark tend to keep the nasty Frenchmen at bay. After a veritable rollercoaster of emotions, quidditch cups and the occasional smuggled firewhisky I graduated from Hogwarts with the honorific prince charming used as both a reference to my skill in charms and a snipe at my loose ties to nobility (i charmed the boy who gave me that names book to squirt ink every time he read the letters p and c as a lesson to people who think painful history is a source of comedy)after i had left Hogwarts, Muggle affairs seemed to be spiralling out of control again as that short chap with a ridiculous moustache seemed hell bent on pissing everyone off. And as always Muggle affairs somehow spill into ours you know the rest. I spent a great deal of the war in the French resistance providing aid where i could and uprooting the occasional German outpost so that it nonchalantly wandered into the ocean and drowned its inhabitants inside it. One thing i discovered whilst i was out there was that the Nazis had somehow collected quite a bit of our lore, spell books and what not, obviously they had no magic and so couldn’t use them but i still felt in their hands it was horribly wrong. And that my dear friend is why i am here now. To create a place where our wizarding literature, useful or otherwise; might have a shelf to be safe. Oh and I’ll sell a variety of tomes that people might need.
Notes taken during an interview of one Montague Chevalier when asked the question “what is your name?”
Sub-note: was afraid to ask another
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.
After Closing the shop for half an hour to collect a few ingredients for a potion he was concocting Monty was weaved his way through the crowded street only half paying attention when he heard a clatter followed almost instantly by the words “Merlin’s fog watch, my heel is broken! Help!”
Peering though the crowds he noticed a young woman surrounded by a scattering of pads quills and a smashed inkpot. He quickly made his way over.
“Dear me what have you done to yourself? Are you alright miss?” he glanced at her foot noticing the Broken shoe. “Well that certainly isn’t how that’s supposed to look, let me get that for you “Montague pulled out his wand swaying slightly “Really shouldn’t have had that 4th firewhisky. Reparo... there we are” he picks up the shoe “good as new”
Scanning the surroundings he finally took notice of the debris “Sigh! Look at this what a waste of good quill ink no this will never do. Reparo inkpot accio stuff”
Dispite the obvios slurring and general vagueness of the spell cast all of amelias scattered papers quills ink etc carefully stacked themselves neatly onto monty’s outstretched hand. “perfect” he mumbled “here we are my dear all yours”
He then dropped all of it
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