|Full name||Francis Turin|
|Born||3 March 1884|
|Education||Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (1895-1902), Ravenclaw|
|Children||Wendelyn Prothero (b. April 1936)|
|Occupation||Member of the Supra Mortalitas|
Something wasnât adding up right. Francis poured over the material, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong with the translation. It should have worked, but the spell had failed over and over again. âDamn it!â He slammed a fist on the table of his study. Where was the problem?
He was running out of time. Took much money had already been spent on this project and if he didnât find a solution soon, his investors would not be happy. And it was imperative to keep them happy. Not that it would matter in the end, but for now, it was of upmost importance. Francis scanned back over the original text, looking over the words for any missed symbols or indication that he had missed a translation.
Maybe he was losing his touch, needed a break. Thatâs all he had been doing for the past months, going over ancient spells incantations, and creating translations which would enable them to be cast in the current wizarding world. At times the stress could be quite taxing, especially when all he was getting failure at every turn. Francis hated failure. This was supposed to be so much easier now. And it was really, but he still hated when something failed.
There was no time for a break though. He had to keep working. Because Francis knew that even if he did take a break, try a vacation from his work, itâs all he would think about, and he would still not get any rest. Until a project was completed, it was always running through his mind, shifting words, flipping meanings. Because an unfinished project was like an incomplete part of his life. He lived for success. So he couldnât stop until he had reached complete success with whatever project he was working on.
Francis had always been this way. In childhood, in school, and it seemed that the desire for success was only increasing as he got older. It was something he couldnât let go of. Failure wasnât an option, ever.
There were advantages to that, like the fact that he was one of the best in what he did. Growing up, Francis always received top marks for his work, because he never turned anything in unless it was flawless. And if there was something in which he couldnât succeed, well then Francis just wouldnât pursue it. He was smart enough to know that he couldnât be perfect in everything. So he worked on perfecting those skills he did have, and making sure that he was the absolute best.
And he was.
Finally, something clicked, and he found the one piece of information that had before been undecipherable. âPerfect!â Francis gave it another try, laughing with glee as the incantation worked perfectly as it had been described in the books.
Success was a great thing.