User:Pax Fellwater

Pax Fellwater
Biographical Information
Full name	Pax Mare Fellwater
Born	26 June 1938
Birthplace	London, UK
Residence	Hogwarts
Nationality	British
Blood Status	Half-blood
Education	Hogwarts
Class	1956
Title(s)	Quidditch Captain 1955, Ravenclaw Prefect 1953-1954, Summer Counselor 1952
Physical Information
Gender	Male
Hair colour	Brown & Copper
Eye colour	Brown
Family Information
Parents	Fiona Fellwater & Robert Baker
Magical Characteristics
Wand	Chesnut & Dragon Heartstring 10 & 3/4 inches, Rigid
Patronus	Fox
Affiliation
Occupation	Hogwarts Groundskeeper
Former Occupation(s)	Model Manager, Entrepreneur
House	Ravenclaw

Honours

• Ravenclaw Prefect 1953-1954
• Quidditch Co-Captain 1955

Biography

Pre-Hogwarts (1938-1949)

Pax Mare Fellwater was born in 1938, London, to pureblood witch, Fiona Fellwater. The product of an affair (which his mother possessed no prior knowledge of), Pax was raised by Fiona and her family alongside his hoard of Nettlebed and Foxe cousins at Foxe Farm in Bristol, after they moved there from London when Pax was very young. The motivation for Fiona’s decision was two-fold: to escape the war, and to escape the notice of Pax’s father, muggle Robert Baker.

Angry at finding out her status as the other woman, and scared of the power and influence the man had within the muggle world, Fiona decided to deny Robert the knowledge of his son’s existence. She was insistent that Pax needed only her and the love she and her family could show him. This secret became incredibly hard to maintain, however, as her son grew and began asking questions.

Pax met Robert first when he was nine, at the man’s office because Millie, his wife, was not yet privy to the situation. Mr. Baker’s secretary, Janice, however could hear the argument between her boss and Fiona soak through the walls and door just as clearly as Pax, and her face seemed as drawn and pale as Pax imagined Millie’s would have been. Curious.

It was the following summer, when Pax was 10 and after Millie had been included, that Pax spent his first summer. And he’d kept the tradition the past two summers as well. Now, it seemed, the trip had become an annual ritual.

But it was always uncomfortable. Strangely, not because of Millie. Though her iciness toward her husband would persist across the summers, she would not leave him, and a lack of children of her own made her oddly accepting of Pax. They bonded surprisingly well. Unlike Pax and Robert.

Mr. Baker was a manufacturer, a hard-worker and an ex-Commander of the Royal Navy. He believed in productivity and the strength of a man’s hands and character. He took Pax every day for the first week to the factory where he and his brother manufactured avionics equipment. The war had sent the industry skyrocketing. But Pax hated it there. It was impossible to stay clean. His clothes would wrinkle and stain as fine metal dust and dirt mixed with his sweat and sketched gritty lines everywhere the fabric creased. It settled under his fingernails and in the creases of his nostrils. And the noise was atrocious. The vibrations of the machines would buzz in his ears and his bones for hours. Returning home, he would bathe for an hour. He once overheard his father wondering aloud to Millie what business a boy had investing so much time and hot water into being pretty.

Pax also had to hide that he was a wizard. Neither Robert nor Millie were aware of his abilities, and maintaining the lies could be exhausting. The boy lavished in his relief as his father’s rigorous work routine distracted him from the son so different from him. Instead, Millie and he would go out. Or just he would go out. Millie did turn out to be much more lax than Fiona about the boy’s independence. A socialite herself, Mrs. Baker was only too happy to endorse his city education. Sometimes she’d take him to fancy luncheons or dinner parties, sometimes to the cinema, sometimes to a friend’s house to listen to a radio broadcast. Other times, they’d ride the train just so Pax could see the city a “different way” Millie had said. Mostly he enjoyed these muggle outings. They had a different kind of magic to them.

London became his back yard, and with a great deal of time to himself, Pax could find relief from the drab holiday, sometimes even sneaking off to Diagon Alley. This had been especially enjoyable one he started attending Hogwarts, when closeby friends made prospects more interesting.

Hogwarts (1949-1956)

Pax was accepted into Hogwarts as a Ravenclaw and quickly excelled. Although a bright and tenacious student, he often overexerted himself.

In his third term, Pax began leaving his mark on Hogwarts, crashing the Upper Year Party, sending candy grams to every girl in his year (and a few others), and pouring himself into extracurriculars. Between 1951 and 1954, Pax was a regular member of the Ravenclaw quidditch team even serving part of a term as co-captain, he worked up from Spellbound reporter to editor, and he regularly volunteered in the hospital wing. In 1953 at the start of his fifth term, Pax was named prefect for Ravenclaw house.

Throughout these years, Pax also garnered a reputation among his classmates, chiefly as Patient Zero of the Magical Mono outbreak of the summer of 1952, by the end of which he had collected every color spot.

The pressure of balancing all of his duties with his grades and his precious social life came to a head in his fifth and sixth years. Pax was unable to cope with the added pressures of his extracurriculars, and ended up quitting all of them and abandoning his prefect duties. He spent his remaining years at Hogwarts focusing instead on his studies and his hair, and earned high marks. He graduated in 1956.

Post-Hogwarts (1956 - Present Day)

In seven years, so much could change, but then so much would not.

When Pax left Hogwarts in 1956, it was with the whole world and his life in front of him. It had been without a care. He’d done well, made friends and connections, learned so much, and if Pax wanted to, he could have chased a career in the wizarding world, earned a name with his ambition. He thought he’d learned enough, and at 17 the world was his oyster.

His naivety was somewhat understandable, for privilege and indulgence had dominated his life, with just enough adversity to validate whatever victimhood he might feel. Growing up on a farm was “humble beginnings” even though that farm was anything but “humble.” He was a halfblood, shunned into lower station among the old pureblood families, but that muggle half was an old pureblood family in its own right, and if he just gave up a little bit of magic, all that privilege could be his.

So he did. Pax pretended, and his father pretended, and paid for Pax’s galavanting lifestyle for half a decade: models, cars, parties, the works. Pax felt so impressive that he didn’t realize how unimpressed the man who had no hand in raising him, who thought the other half of his son’s life was strange and the source of eccentric behavior, had become. Pax didn’t realize this until his father unceremoniously cut him off.

It was back to those “humble” beginnings, though humility never really took hold. His mother welcomed him, of course, but she expected things of him, too. So did his aunts and uncle. So did the chickens, and Pax found himself hiding out in haystacks as he had in his youth. He found himself arguing with his uncle about chores, too, and being chastised like a fifteen-year-old again. He found himself coming up with excuses to visit London, rather than address his lack of gratitude. He made friends that could get him into parties, and met women that looked good in pictures. He made connections, and built a network. Women began asking him for advice and tips, and he thought to start charging them for it, though it wasn’t much to live by when seeking the lifestyle he’d had on his father’s dime.

Coming back to the wizarding world demonstrated to Pax his need to make his own way. If his muggle of a father could pull himself up by his bootstraps and build a fortune, then Pax could wingardium leviosa his way to the top. Coming back, however, also showed him paths to do it. He would be an entrepreneur, like his father, and he would take his passions, like his mother and their family. Thus PaxWax Hair Solutions was born.

Then promptly died.

Because work was hard, it turned out. So Pax fell into a cycle. He’d stay in London until his funds dried up, at which point he’d slink back to the farm and begrudgingly do his uncle’s bidding until he’d earned enough to march back off to London. It wasn’t sustainable. So when the chance to return to Hogwarts came in the form of a stable job, Pax forgot about that promise he’d made to himself seven years ago to never return.

After all, so much could change in seven years.