Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Asher Caddell
Gender: Male
Age: 29, 22 september 1936
Blood Status: Pureblood

Education:
Ravenclaw - Hogwarts 1948-1955

Residence:
Kensington, London

Occupation
Lawyer

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?
Ministry of Magic, Domestic Office of Magical Law, please!

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 Exceptional Levels special request form here.

• Charms: 7
• Divination: 6
• Transfiguration: 12
• Summoning: 7

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
Nope

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Alice Swan and co.

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
The Caddells were a respected Pureblood family but unlike all the other stereotypical ones that were associated with opulence, hypocrisy and self-worth, they preferred serenity, peace and solitude. They didn’t bathe in gold coins and dried themselves with expensive silk, nor did they live in a manor with its labyrinth halls and unnecessary empty rooms. No, they secluded in the countryside and had a humble abode quite large for their family, yes, but nothing compared to those grand estates.
 
The Caddells, again unlike other Purebloods, didn’t find the need to procreate merely to have their legacy live on. Unlike the others who had their houses filled with kids and babies, Arthur and Julia Caddell happily welcomed their only child, Asher Caddell.
 
Asher, even as a baby with no clear conscience, had decided to follow along his parents footsteps and trailed away from the path of normality and conventional norm. An odd boy, he was. Even from a young age, he would seclude himself from the world, dive his nose in books and study art and poetry until he fell asleep on the library floor. He would stray away from his cousins at family gatherings, sit far away from them and keep his mouth shut. Notably, he had a certain disdain for closeness and physical touch, even twitching away from his own parents' loving and tender touches.
 
He was a sensitive boy, his parents told everyone. He’ll change, he’d tell them and even themselves, trying to convince themselves that this shy boy simply needed to grow up to change.
 
They were wrong.
 
Asher grew to fancy his own company and keep others at bay. At Hogwarts, unsurprisingly sorted into Ravenclaw house, he could be found by himself reading, writing or roaming the halls and chatting with the portraits to understand their history. He was never in large groups of people because it was always overwhelming, everyone conversing and laughing when he didn’t understand the joke. There was always the risk of someone penetrating his personal bubble and he couldn’t allow that, never.
 
Until he met dearest Anna in his fifth grade, a fellow Ravenclaw just a year older than him. She’d understood him, always worried not to disrupt his time alone and always asked permission to get close. She was unlike the others, just like he was, and Asher had thought that finally, perhaps, he could allow someone in.
 
So, he did. They spent the next ten years together, taking baby steps as they transformed their friendship into romance. He lived and breathed for her, doing everything in his power to satisfy the needs of the woman who had opened him up to the world, taught him everything about love.
 
Blinded by love and adoration, he didn’t see the signs. He didn’t see that she was growing impatient, that she thought that their progress was too slow, that she didn’t like that he wasn’t like other men. He didn’t understand the sudden outbursts of anger, the lashing out, and the sudden disrespect of his boundaries. He didn’t notice the late-night outs, didn’t question them either, simply happy to see that his lover was safe back home even if she didn’t look at him anymore.
 
He never could have known that, on the day he planned on proposing to her (her subtle messages suddenly turned aggressive made him understand the urgency of the situation, even if he didn’t like the idea of it), that he would find her in bed—their bed—with another man.
 
At that moment, the rose-colored glasses slipped off and the reality of the past years dawned on him, crushed him and destroyed him. He vowed on that day never to let anyone in, officially shutting himself off from the world and devoid himself of any emotion.
 
Dearest Anna had plunged her hand into his chest and yanked his heart out, letting arteries deplete themselves of blood, turning his body into the cold natured man he was. Thankfully, he had his job at the ministry to keep him afoot. His icy and closed off demeanor actually helped him for his job; unbothered by the content of his paperwork nor the quantity of it, obsessing over every little detail in his cases and ready to defend whoever walked through the door, no matter the crime.
 
Who said you needed a heart to be a lawyer?


Roleplay: 
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.

Roleplay Response:
He didn’t like Diagon Alley at lunch time.
 
Too many patrons, too many uncivilized people who couldn’t keep their heads up and look straight, too many individuals on one sidewalk not wide enough to take as many, too many chances of someone bumping into him.
 
Too many everything.
 
But it was a necessity, he reminded himself. An appointment at the bank really was of utmost importance.
 
And so, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and stuffing his hands in his pockets, Asher marched to his destination, careful to avoid anyone who stumbled and threatened to smash into him.
 
He should have kept walking forward when he heard that cry for help but it would have been awfully rude, he supposed, to act like nothing happened when he’d seen the short red haired woman fall right in front of his eyes.
 
Carefully stepping around the masses, Asher approached the woman but kept a respectful distance from her. “Is it the new norm in women’s fashion to wear heels on such an unstable walking surface?” Retrieving his wand from the inside of his coat pocket, the man cast a quiet Reparo on the woman’s heel, his reply to her cry for help.
 
“I must admit, it’s a rather foolish idea.”

OTHER
How did you find us? Returning player, Google at the time