Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG

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→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.

Name: Avery Elliot
FC: Lucas Bin

Birthday: Monday, July 3rd, 1939 (Cancer)

Hometown: Cornwall, England

Bloodline: Unknown.

Magical Strength (pick one): Divination

Magical Weakness (pick one): Charms

Year (pick two): Four or Three

Biography:

She had always been a witch. Only witches could spread tarot cards on silk and painstakingly string together the three cards into a bedtime story about his future, only witches could hum echoing ballads during a full moon with crystals charging in groups of three on the windowsill, and certainly only witches could press a cool crystal to his forehead that burned with fever while tipping a tea made with moon water and lemon into his aching throat.

Tia was a witch with her beautiful laugh lines and warm hands, a voice that made her clients stare in wonder for even the most skeptical couldn’t deny the beauty she could create with only her words and a few cards. Beauty in the rising of the phoenix from the ashes, in the renewal of The Tower, in the slippery lies of The Moon. Avery’s mother was magic and she was always a witch.

Avery never knew there was any other kind until his eleventh birthday when a calm owl with old eyes dropped a heavy letter on their table. It fell on top of the basil, crushing the delicate leaves that Avery would have to make into a pesto later to preserve the energy, but he didn’t think of that until after. “Hogwarts?” he asked into the tense silence of the living room, where his mother and Stef sat drinking tea. They shared a look and Tia put her teacup down, not even bothering to adjust the handle to ensure it pointed towards the sunrise.
“I wondered if that would come,” she murmured.
“Well, best clear the afternoon, sister,” Stef said, already reaching for their planner and the phone.

For the record, it indeed took the rest of the afternoon.

“… then, are you a witch, mother?” Avery asked quietly at dusk, sweeping counterclockwise from the door, picking up the cinnamon and pepper he had sprinkled on it moments before.
“Of course I am,” and Avery believed her, but that was not the answer he was looking for.
“Are you a Hogwarts Witch or a Human Witch, mother?” he pushed, the sharp smell of cinnamon following in the wake of his question as he passed her.
“Yes,” was Tia’s soft response.

And that was it.

Malachite still belonged under his pillow and he stirred his tea clockwise, but Avery also went to classes about wands and charms and magic that made things appear out of thin air, destroying the balance of energy in reality. He was unremarkable as he kept his head towards his parchment with notes on the moon phases and the effects of his recent batch of moss-agate infused water. He cleansed his ruby in sunlight and charged his quartz only under the full moon. Avery buried sigils in pots of thyme and rosemary, and traced them with his wand over every letter he sent home.

When he left for the train, his mother pressed a crisp tarot deck into his hands with a fierce kiss on his third eye. It was held close to his heart, close to the ruby that swung from a silver chain, filled with his energy and life since he was three. Avery resisted drawing a card until he reached the school, gazing upon the castle across the lake as his fingers rifled through the cards.

(It was the Seven of Cups.)


→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.

House Request: Sorting Hat.

Personality:

Avery is charged by the moon, reaching out his window as far as he dares to catch the light on his face and sitting on the roof of their shop during warm summer nights. He is quiet and unconcerned, with an expression one might consider annoyed if they didn’t know he generally looked like that. He holds his wand like it burns and his tarot cards like they are extensions of him, and his eyes never seem to fully commit to being interested in you. With a wisp of a smile rarely seen in the day and never seen in class, Avery keeps resolutely to himself and his crystals.

Appearance:

Brown curly hair, lazily pushed out of dark blue eyes with the habit of flopping back over. He walks lightly, as though used to creaky floors, and firmly avoids unintentional cracks in the pavement. A bit slovenly looking with his tie either undone or loosely knotted, shirt half-untucked and wand haphazardly in his back pocket. Can be seen occasionally wearing a headband to keep his hair out of his eyes when pouring over a tome in the back of the library.

→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.

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.

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If his roommate hadn’t walked in during a commune during Samhain, Avery wouldn’t be in the dungeons in the first place. The boy had upturned his scrying bowl, scrubbed out his chalk sigils on the floor, wand pointed at every candle he had painstakingly inscribed as they snuffed out one-by-one. He was going to throw his crystals out of the window was it not for Avery pointing his wand and freezing the blasted student in his tracks.

Avery hated him passionately ever since, but his mother refused ever encouraging hexing, so he politely took his rituals elsewhere.

He heard the rumours of Emma Birch and a new moon was the best time to try seeing if they were really true, venturing down into the dungeons with some candles and crystals and chalk. He brought his tarot cards for safe measure, but he brought them everywhere.

Avery was in the middle of drawing a protective sigil on the floor when he heard someone down the hall, freezing him in place as his wand flicked towards the one candle that illuminated his work. It flickered and then went out, in time for the noise of the invader to come closer, and a wavering voice call, “H-h-hello?”

He held his breath, waiting until the young voice raised again to break the peace he had built within the dungeon. He had cleansed the corner thoroughly, reeking of sage as a result. “We will never know if you interrupt me like this,” was his even reply, wand meeting the wick of his candle to throw both of them into light.

She was much too young to help with a ritual.

“Go back to bed,” Avery said as he turned back to his work, chalk in hand.

→ ABOUT YOU.

Please list any characters you have  on the site (current and previous): Sylvia Renn & Co. (I HAVE ENOUGH TO BE & CO NOW T_T)

How did you find us?: Returning player.