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Topics - Digby Walter Robbins

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Archived Applications / Digby Walter Robbins
« on: 09/04/2018 at 21:45 »

Application for Hogwarts School


Name: Digby Walter Robbins

Birthday: March 26, 1942

Hometown: North Yorkshire, England


Magical Strength (pick one):

Magical Weakness (pick one):

Year (pick two): Year 1 Preferably. Year 2 is my second choice.

Digby was the first born to Walter and Patricia Robbins. The Robbins family was one of the most un-magical family trees England had to offer. Digby was raised as a country boy. The family business of sheep farming had been passed down for generations, and Digbys’ parents had no interest in breaking tradition. His parents, uncle, two cousins, grandmother and little sister all lived under the same roof, in a crowded yellow farmhouse. He shared his bedroom with his two younger cousins. He loved them liked brothers and found them just as annoying as siblings would be at times. The kitchen would consistently smell like oatmeal raisin cookies, and wind chimes on the porch could always be heard clanging softly. Digby’s young life consisted on growing up on the farm, helping his father and uncle with tending the sheep and various other chores after school.

Loving the outdoors and all its fresh and sometimes horrendous smells, the boy found himself hanging in the barn attic more often than his own bedroom. He made friends with the barn owls that nested in the attic, and often found himself passing the time drawing up there or playing his harmonica. Otherwise he was jumping hay bails with his cousins or playing on the old tire swing they made on the old tree outside the barn.

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

House Request: Where ever the sorting hat sees fit.


Digby is a relatively clumsy boy, which is average for his age. Very disorganized, looses things often. Loves to draw and doodle, take pictures and play instruments. Anything new and artistic is a passion. Hates being bored or not having something to do which often causes him to get into trouble. He is relatively spunky and is not afraid to push buttons. Loves the outdoors and the little creatures that belong there. Hates being cold. Hates Winter. Can be moody on his worst days but is generally an upbeat energetic child.


Digby's most prominent feature are his three dark misshapen beauty marks that appear on the tip of his chin and two below his right eye. His skin is toasted tan from constantly being outdoors and his chores on the farm. His hair is thick, curly and dirty blonde and his eyebrows are thick and bushy. Despite being relatively active and healthy, his face has a plump roundness to it. His eyes are a handsome almond shape and warm-amber honey brown in color.

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 I:

The dungeons. A place eleven-year-old Evangeline had not yet travelled since her arrival at Hogwarts.

A place she really was just fine with not knowing; but it was too late. The dare had been accepted, even if it had been done in fear of being kicked out of Gryffindor, like the older girls had said she would because Gryffindors were supposed to be brave.

The air changed instantly when she hit the main corridor of the dungeons. The dampness was almost too much for her and she instinctively took a deep breath to avoid the sensation of being suffocated. There was also a sour burning smell which Evangeline assumed was from many, many Potions lessons.

Further and further she walked, her steps so slow and gentle they made no noise against the stone walls and floor. The feeling that she wasn't alone crept up her spine and raised the tiny hair on the back of her neck. Shivering, Evangeline wrapped her arms around herself. Suddenly, she missed the warmth and comfort of the Gryffindor common room. The fire was always going and it made her feel at ease.

Why had she let those girls talk her into this? She was only eleven, she didn't have to be brave. Surely the Headmistress would not kick her out of Hogwarts for not being brave.

If only she had these thoughts while being dared to search for the ghost of one Emma Birch, whom supposedly haunted the dungeons. It was not, Evangeline had learned, the place where the sixteen-year-old girl's life had ended but as she had been from the house with a snake as its mascot, it was the place her spirit had returned to. That common room was down here somewhere, she'd been told.

Something - the small blonde girl wasn't quite sure what - but something made her stop in her tracks suddenly. There was a low, dull thumping noise. Or maybe that was her heart beating so loudly she thought it was coming from outside her body.

"H-h-hello?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Remembering that she was supposed to be brave, Evangeline tried again.

"Hello! Is Emma Birch here?"

The sound of her own words bouncing back at her off the walls made her jump.


“How dare they not believe me.” Digby murmured to himself as he trudged through the dungeon corridors like a soldier. His back-pack, which he had forgotten to unzip in his rush to the dungeons, bounced behind him carelessly as he stomped. The mouth of the bag opened wide, like a hungry Venus fly trap, revealing its inner contents; first year text books stuffed with unorganized notes, A quill and ink jar with a cap that was not closed properly, and a loose bag of snake fangs from potions class. All three of which were dangerously close to toppling out of the wide unzipped lip of the bag, with each determined strut the boy made down the corridor.
“I’ll show them,” he continued to murmur. Clutching an old camera that he borrowed from Hogwarts library. He had sent a letter to his muggle-born cousins, describing the castle. The moving paintings, the floating candles, the ghosts. And they didn’t believe him! How dare they call him a liar, he had hardly ever lied to them before. Just once, when the tire swing hit his mouth and knocked out a loose baby-tooth and they asked if he cried, which Digby denied poorly. But besides that, he had never lied to them and he was insulted.

That’s how the boy had found himself in the dungeon of Hogwarts that evening, hunting for a ghost. He had made a bet with his cousins that if he mailed them a picture of a ghost he would get their deserts for two weeks of the summer. So of course, the stakes were high.

Hearing a voice, Digby stopped in his tracks. miss interrupting the Gryffindors question, Digby believed he heard. “hello? Emma Birch here.” In a moment of excitement and adrenaline. Digby lunged out and snapped a picture of the Gryffindor. A bright clash and a snap of the cameras mechanism filled the corridor. Only when the light dulled did he notice the girls red and gold badge.

“Ugh. Gryffindor? You’re not Emma Birch. You’re not even a ghost.” Digby groaned, rolling his eyes.


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