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Dear Miss Doherty,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Term begins on 1 January. Currently, students have gathered at Camp Loki, and we encourage you to spend your summer there. Should you choose, you may also visit our Elsewhere board via the Floo Network to visit or purchase school supplies.Yours sincerely, Karina Ivansko Headmistress
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Application for Hogwarts School
→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.Name: Niamh Doherty Birthday:28 June 1957 (or 1956, if put into 7th) Hometown: Belfast, Northern Ireland Bloodline: Muggleborn Magical Strength (pick one): Divination Magical Weakness (pick one): Transfiguration Year (pick two): preferably 6th, otherwise 7th Biography:Niamh Doherty came into this world screaming on a particularly warm summer evening. She was the first, and ultimately, the only child of Clare and Liam Doherty. They lived in a small, but neat home near the children’s hospital off of Falls Road. However, Niamh does not remember the time when her family was considered “normal”. She was only a year and a half old when Clare died of cancer. Liam’s youngest sister, Kathleen moved in to help with Niamh while he spent his days working in construction. He’d be gone a year and a half later after a work accident. So, all Niamh knew was her life with Auntie Kathleen. Niamh learned from her Auntie Kathleen to have a thick skin. It was important to have, especially growing up Catholic in Belfast. The world was cruel, it was best to keep your chin up and keep moving. Most importantly, she learned to stand up for herself and what she believed in. She wasn’t to let anyone get in the way of living her life. The pair managed fairly well, though Niamh spent quite a bit of time being passed around to neighbors after school until Kathleen got home from work. Occasionally, Kathleen would be met with complaints over the strange things that would happen around Niamh. Niamh was always a bit of a handful, fighting (or defending herself, as she would insist), shouting, and sticking her nose where it didn’t belong were Niamh’s specialties. However, some of these accusations just seemed too strange to blame on a little girl. Kathleen nearly lost it when Mary O’Hara insisted that Niamh was the cause of a lightbulb bursting. How could a child manage such a thing, especially when she wasn’t even touching the lamp? It’d be a lie to say the pair weren’t shocked by the arrival of Niamh’s Hogwarts letter, but once that passed, certain incidents made much more sense. However, Kathleen was more disturbed by the owl delivering the letter than anything else. “Do I have to go?” was what Niamh asked after they processed her acceptance into the magical school. She liked her home and living with Auntie Kathleen. She didn’t want to leave Belfast or her friends behind to go to some boarding school who-knows-where. It was met with a stern look that sent her off to her room (with a groan of annoyance) to start packing. As tensions in Belfast escalated, Niamh worried for her aunt. Returning to Hogwarts became a fight at the beginning of each new term. Niamh always insisted that she’d be better off at home, where she belonged. In the end, the result was always the same: she’d be on the Hogwarts Express sulking as she was brought back to Hogwarts. Hogwarts wasn’t all bad, but school was not her cup of tea. She’s counting down the days until she graduates so that she can do exactly as she pleases. What will that entail? Well, she hasn’t quite figured that out just yet. → ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.House Request: I’ll leave it up to fate Personality:Niamh does not care what other people think of her. She believes she knows best, for better or worse, and has no qualms about voicing her opinion whether it is wanted or not. Most of the time, she just wants to have a good time. Thick-skinned, she doesn’t hesitate to defend herself with words or fists, whatever the situation calls for. While it is not always reflected in her academics, Niamh works hard for what she wants and will do whatever she can to get her way. She can be surprisingly sentimental and has a shoebox full of mementos and pictures stashed under her bed.Appearance:Niamh is petite, standing at 5’2. Her brown hair has a slight wave and is cut just above her shoulders. In her daily life, she rarely does more than run a brush through it. Light freckles wash over her face, particularly on the bridge of her nose. Her blue-grey eyes are sharp and clear, always observing what’s happening around her. Her aunt’s tight budget doesn’t allow for an extensive wardrobe, so she’s often wearing basic, but well-loved clothes. She has a love for knitted jumpers. → SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.Option 2:That rat of his was in for it now. The gray little rascal had disappeared from his clutches at breakfast. Again. Before Hugh even knew what was happening, Merlin had shot across the floor, somehow managing to avoid all the feet walking across the hall and had escaped through the open doors. Which meant that Hugh was now stomping through rows of flowers and other various flora, searching for the small creature. It was like the rat knew Hugh was allergic to most flowers. Merlin always chose to run to the gardens whenever he got away from Hugh. It was as if the rat did not want to have him for an owner. Hugh had named his pet Merlin because he had hoped the powerful name would give the rat more incentive to be more than a rat. Not that he expected Merlin to change into a wizard or anything, but rats were just so...useless, for the most part. With a name like Merlin, Hugh thought it might give the rat purpose. The only purpose Merlin seemed to have was getting away from Hugh as often as possible. As the fifth year trudged into the second row of flowers, not taking much care to avoid trampling the first row, he felt the first sneeze building up pressure in his nose and behind his eyes. "You blasted rat! Where are you?" He pulled apart a section of bright red flowers; he didn't know what they were called because he despised flowers, and ducked his head low to peer into the depths of the flowerbed. It was moving closer in proximity to the flowers that finally did it. Hugh took in three great breaths and then let out an almighty sneeze. It was strong enough to disturb some of the dirt on the ground before him. Groaning, he stood up again and wiped his nose on his sleeve. It was as he was turning his head, his nose running up and down his arm, that movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Normally one who preferred to put his best face forward, Hugh was a bit embarrassed to be caught wiping his runny nose on his robes. Nevertheless, Hugh put on his best haughty voice. albeit a bit thickly with his plugged nose and said, "Can I help you with something? It is not polite to stare." Roleplay Response:Niamh was laying on her stomach in a grassy patch of the garden, flipping lazily through a magazine. She was trying to mind her business and enjoy the nice weather. Trying. It was difficult, though, when Hugh came trampling through the plants shouting for his stupid rat. So much for a bit of peace. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as the boy wiped his nose on his sleeve. "Can I help you with something? It is not polite to stare."Niamh snorted. He was one to talk about manners. "Well, it’s not polite to stomp all over the flowers. 'Sides, it’s not as if you're keeping a low profile,” she retorted. It was hard not to stare at such a spectacle. Niamh couldn’t blame the rat for running off. She wasn't even sure why Hugh was looking so hard for his rat. It didn't seem to her that he liked it all that much given his tone. Niamh looked him up and down once more. After taking in the pitiful sight before her she let out an annoyed sigh. "If I help you find your rat, will you leave me in peace?" → ABOUT YOU.Please list any characters you have on the site (current and previous): Fallon Tate & co How did you find us?: Don’t remember. Probs Google??
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Dear Miss. Ward,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Term begins on 1 January. Currently, students have gathered at Camp Loki, and we encourage you to spend your summer there. Should you choose, you may also visit our Elsewhere board via the Floo Network to visit or purchase school supplies.Yours sincerely,
Hufflepuff Head of House
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Before you begin, please make sure you have created an account in your character's full name, and make sure you have read and understand the following:
Site Rules | Magical Rules | Our Rating | FAQ
Should you have any questions, please contact an Administrator.
Application for Hogwarts School
→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.Name: Ariella Mildred Ward Birthday: May 12th 1962 Hometown: Dingle, Ireland Bloodline: Halfblood Magical Strength (pick one): Divination Magical Weakness (pick one): Conjuring & Summoning Year (pick two): First would be fantastic, Second if need be! Biography:The Ward family never lived a particularly lavish or luxurious lifestyle but what they lacked in wealth they made up for in the love that radiated from their humble home. Arthur and Deirdre Ward raised their four children with a steady stream of warmth and support alongside the harsh and chilly cliffs. Ariella grew up never wanting for anything and while others her age may have turned their nose up at hand-me-downs and knitted scarves, she cherished each and every item handed to her. Possibly a bit too much as anyone could see by her fully stuffed drawer in a shared dresser with her eldest sister. The Ward's home was always cozy and welcoming. Ariella's grandparents lived in a stone home next to her parent's and down the dirt road to her aunt's. Aside a few other wizarding families, the young girl never felt alone. Dingle may have struggled against the quickly growing world around it and far from modern times but that never seemed to bother to Wards. Raising their children to continue on family and cultural traditions was always important to them especially those entangled in the wizarding world. Ariella continued to grow into a pride for her home, her family name, and abilities however small at her young age. In some ways the Wards created a sheltered bubble on their familial land. Despite the love and caring of her family this life "away" has stunted Ariella. She can be naive about the outside world and even too trusting of others. Never having to truly be independent, a safety net constantly surrounding her, has not exactly prepared her for this next chapter of her life. → ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.House Request: Ravenclaw (truthfully if you need to fill a slot, toss me in) Personality:Unafraid of social situations, Ariella can be best described as outgoing to a fault. She seeks out new experiences having spent much of her time on her family's land and among her siblings or cousins. A fierce friend she can tend to be overwhelming but means well. That said she does trust others easily and can be naive about life. Easily influenced, she could be talked into a good deal of situations without realizing the possible ramifications. Her mother always worries what kind of group of peers she could fall in with. One would have a hard time poking or prodding Ari to anger. She is used to teasing and rough housing thanks to her cousins. The one thing that would truly set her off is her family or close friends being attacked or spoken ill of. Not too keen on bullying, she may have a hard time forming words without a stutter but she would certainly pipe up. Ari loves to collect little trinkets of some kind, her father lovingly teasing that she may have been a raven in a past life. She enjoys hunting for small acorns, rocks, feathers, and uniquely shaped driftwood. Her second love is for oversized scarves and a good mince pie. Appearance:Standing at a shorter than average height for her age, Ariella tends to blend into the crowd especially with her plain looking appearance, fair freckled skin, hazel green eyes, and brown hair falling just past her shoulders. Or rather she would blend in with her peers if it wasn't for her clothing which is often outdated by modern standards, not to mention the quirky buttons, scarves, and knitted hats her Gran and mother cycle through the Ward children. Most of her wardrobe has been patched and stitched with care, a frayed hem being turned into a purple flower or holes brought together by green vines embroidered along a pocket. Not that any of that bothers her in fact it is usually a comfort for her to look down and see a reminder of her mother's hands in the stitching, sister or cousin who donned the item prior. At times she can be seen rubbing a thumb along the threads or patch to self soothe. → RETURNING STUDENTS.Note: This section is only for students who have been previously played at Hogwarts. Please see here for more information about Castle Dropouts levels/how many levels you are eligible to claim.Link to your last levels request (if you never posted one, link to your last accepted student application):Number of New Levels Requested:New Levels Request:How your character kept up with their studies: Whether your character was still at Hogwarts or left school entirely for a while, tell us how they were able to keep up with their studies and learn about magic, which would allow their levels to keep increasing.
→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY. 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.
Roleplay Response:There was a stillness to the air and chill that crept so deep into your bones while in the dungeons that it made it hard to take one step after another. Ariella swallowed and thought momentarily as she listened to the footsteps ahead of her. Maybe it was the chill... Or maybe it was another strange creeping feeling that was settling into her gut. What was it? Guilt? The young girl gnawed at her lower lip anxiously. Had she been to quick to prove herself to the older girls in her house? A group of them had been whispering about some doings with the Gryffindor girl's dormitory. Naturally, Ari had been listening in curiously but one of them had caught her and roped her into it. - "It's just a test!" One girl spoke as she fluffed the curls in her hair. Another chuckled lightly as she flipped absently through a tome in her lap. "They do this every year. It's no big deal, really!" A third added. Ariella's eyes flit from one to the other. Their demeanor led her to believe it must not be. Sending a first year, Evangeline, down to the dungeons in search of some ghost. "Unless you want her to be all alone." The eldest of the three leaned down and placed a hand on Ariella's shoulder. It was odd, the blonde teen had a mournful look painted neatly across her face but there was something beneath her words that Ari could not quite place. Ariella shifted uncomfortably under the girl's manicured hand. "Well, no." Ari began as her thoughts slowly trickled down to her lips. Being alone never sounded anything but horrible more so if it meant being in a dark dungeon. Ari hesitated and the blonde saw an opening. "Then you should go! Actually, wouldn't if be funny if..." - Ariella shook her head at the thought, eyes squeezed shut. She could do it. Couldn't she? The older girls had made it seem so fun at first. Follow the Gryffindor girl and pull a teeny tiny prank. A joke! Who didn't like having a bit of fun? That's what they had said. Then why did Ari have this sinking in her belly? Fun things shouldn't feel this way. All she had to do was follow the girl.. call out to her with a spectral yowl and make it back to the common room. The older girls had said they would wait up, meet her and have a small treat ready for them both, something warm. That's what they had said. Why would they lie? Pulling in her lips, she wet them with her tongue and crept closer as the girl's voice echoed through the dungeons, calling out to Emma Birch. Sliding her feet along the stones, Ari crept closer and urged her vision to acclimate so she could just barely make out the figure a few feet away. Her mouth opened as she cupped her hands on either side to better get a low ghostly moan but-nothing. She couldn't do it. The twisty flips that her stomach did had silenced her entirely. "EvanguhLEEEEENN!" Ariella stood up straight and had stepped forward to reach out to the girl but as she moved to put her foot down it had been met with a squishy form that let out a sharp squeak. A shrill scream let loose from the young girl as she tumbled to one side. A mouse? A rat? A ghost? Emma Birch?!? What had that been!? Ariella groaned as she hit the stones hard on one side, her wrist throbbing from having caught the brunt of her weight. "I-Evangeline? Was that you? Are you-" Her heart thrummed against her chest as her eyesight finally adjusted. "I'm so sorry!" Calling into the dark, she let out a shaky breath. She certainly deserved that for having agreed to come down here and scare someone. "I-I'm sorry. Are you okay?" → ABOUT YOU.Please list any characters you have on the site (current and previous): 1 How did you find us?: Top RP site under Harry Potter
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Dear Mr. Ambrose,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Term begins on 1 January. Currently, students have gathered at Camp Loki, and we encourage you to spend your summer there. Should you choose, you may also visit our Elsewhere board via the Floo Network to visit or purchase school supplies.Yours sincerely, Karina Ivansko Headmistress
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Before you begin, please make sure you have created an account in your character's full name, and make sure you have read and understand the following:
Site Rules | Magical Rules | Our Rating | FAQ
Should you have any questions, please contact an Administrator. CHARACTER INFORMATIONCharacter name: Barnaby Thatch Previous and/or Current Character(s) if applicable: Jakob Knightly, Tobias Black, Merida Swanson, Edwyn Schmander, Elirc Grimme, Damon Drake, Cordelia Von Stein, Percival Harman Character age: 45 Character education: Hogwarts (Hufflepuff) Strength and weaknesses (details please): A bit absentminded and often looks disheveled, yet highly organized and on point. The man embodies the phrase "Organized Chaos" Physical description: . A rotund man in his mid forties, his broad face is framed by a bushy beard the color of autumn leaves, streaked with silver. His cheeks are perpetually rosy, and he is hardly seen without a smile. Barnaby's robes are as unique as the man himself: often slightly wrinkled, patched in places with mismatched fabrics, and adorned with enchanted embroidery that occasionally wriggles or twinkles with light. Personality (nice, rude, funny etc. Paragraph please.): Barnaby has a warm and approachable demeanor. He has an endless supply of stories from his travels, which he often shares over meals. His hearty laugh is contagious, and he’s known for his penchant for sneaking snacks. Despite his jovial nature, Barnaby is deeply wise and perceptive. He has a knack for spotting someone who is struggling, whether academically or emotionally, and provides guidance with a gentle touch. He’s prides himself on offering all a safe space around him. Hopes and dreams. Why are you teaching at Hogwarts?: Barnaby Thatch’s ultimate goal is to inspire his students to see magic as an extension of themselves, a way to connect with the world and others. He’s been working on a book titled Between Worlds: The Art of Conjuring and Summoning, a blend of memoir and practical guide, which has become highly anticipated among his peers. Biography (500 words minimum. There is never such a thing as too much.): Early LifeBorn to a family of wizarding shopkeepers in Hogsmeade, Barnaby grew up surrounded by magical artifacts and trinkets, fostering his early fascination with conjuring objects and summoning creatures. As a boy, he was known for his boundless curiosity and a knack for getting into trouble, often summoning things he wasn't supposed to—like a flock of pixies to his parents' shop that caused chaos for hours. At Hogwarts, he was sorted into Hufflepuff, a house that he embodied perfectly with his kind heart and diligent nature. Though not the most academically gifted in traditional subjects, he excelled in practical magic, particularly in Conjuring and Summoning, Transfiguration, and Charms. His professors noted his innate talent for conjuring spells, often praising his ability to bring intricate objects to life with precision and flair. He spent hours in the library, poring over old texts on summoning rituals and conjuration techniques. Career and SpecializationAfter graduating from Hogwarts, Barnaby worked briefly at the Department of Magical Transportation in the Ministry of Magic, helping to research advanced summoning spells for magical travel. However, he soon realized that the rigid bureaucracy of the Ministry didn’t suit his creative and free-spirited personality. Deciding to forge his own path, Barnaby spent the next two decades traveling the wizarding world, studying the summoning practices of different cultures. In the Amazon rainforest, he learned the delicate art of summoning enchanted vines from a local wizarding tribe. In Tibet, he studied the summoning of protective spirits from Buddhist wizard-monks. In Africa, he marveled at the ease with which local sorcerers conjured animals from their surroundings, integrating their understanding of magic with the natural world. Barnaby Thatch’s travels were driven by an insatiable thirst for understanding how conjuring and summoning magic interwove with the cultures and traditions of the wizarding world. Each destination he visited added a layer of depth to his expertise, broadening his perspective on magic as a universal force shaped by the environment and beliefs of those who wielded it. In the deserts of Egypt, Barnaby worked alongside Curse-Breakers to decipher ancient hieroglyphic spells used to summon protective spirits for pharaohs' tombs. The experience taught him the importance of intent in summoning magic, as the rituals often required profound respect for the spirits being invoked. During his time in Japan, he apprenticed briefly under an Onmyōji—a practitioner of traditional Japanese magic—who introduced him to the delicate art of summoning kami, or elemental spirits. Here, Barnaby learned the nuances of balance and harmony, crucial when dealing with entities tied to natural forces. A more harrowing chapter of his journey occurred in the Australian Outback, where he encountered a dangerous Bunyip while studying Indigenous summoning techniques. Escaping with his wits—and a few scars—he gained a deeper appreciation for the responsibility that comes with calling creatures from the wild. These adventures not only refined Barnaby’s skills but also shaped his belief that conjuring and summoning were less about control and more about cooperation, respect, and a deep understanding of the magical world. His journeys not only expanded his magical knowledge but also shaped his philosophy: conjuring and summoning are not just about calling something into existence—they're about understanding the connections between magic, the caster, and the world. Applying to HogwartsWhen Barnaby heard that the Professor of Conjuring and Summoning had retired, Barnaby decided it might be time to return to Hogwarts. He hoped his memories of being a student whose love for magic was palpable and knew his wealth of practical experience would make him an exceptional teacher. Barnaby’s classroom would be a place of wonder and controlled chaos. It would be filled with enchanted objects floating in midair, glowing sigils scrawled on the blackboard, and a menagerie of creatures he’s summoned for lessons. His lessons would be unpredictable yet meticulously planned. One day, students might learn how to summon their lost quills; the next, they could be conjuring temporary shields to defend against hexes. He insists on teaching the ethics of summoning alongside the mechanics, stressing the importance of responsibility when dealing with summoned creatures or objects. “Magic isn’t just about what you can do,” he often says, “but why you’re doing it.” SAMPLE ROLEPLAY(Please respond to to this in third person past tense. Do not write the other characters' reactions. Only your own.) It was the largest office in Hogwarts and, perhaps to students and newcomers, the most intimidating. The shelves were filled with paperwork, and lots and lots of books. A few of the shelves had various odds and ends that had been saved from previous owners. The sorting hat had a place of honour, but less of one than before. The walls held all the portraits of past Headmasters and Headmistresses, as well as her Russian portraits. Anneka Ivanova's was closest to Karina's desk. In the middle of the room sat a large desk. Everything was in order. Almost a ruthless order. Important papers were closest to her, with her favourite quill. Then other documents further away. And at the edge is her favourite Venus flytrap and a picture of Vlad. A clock sat on the desk, which currently showed the time to be 2:05. The meeting was supposed to begin at 2:00 precisely. Karina was not always punctual. Yes, she was aware of the time, she would just deliberately come late. She valued control. And what better method of control than making people wait for you. But she expected others to be punctual to the second. Or early. So naturally Karina Ivansko was not happy. "You have five minutes to assure me that you'll never be late again." Karina said to the applicant gesturing to the ancient and uncomfortable chair across from her. Her fingernails drummed irritably on the desk. And she had a look on her face that imitated a Russian winter. (Yes, she had learned well from the great Anneka Ivanova). Roleplay Response:Barnaby's nerves had gotten to him there was no other explanation. He had known Hogwarts like the back of his hand, but for some reason when he got here this afternoon he got all turned around on his way to the headmistress's office. The woman was understandably upset and Barnaby gave his best serious expression to convey he understood the situation. "I do apologize Ms. Ivansko, I have no excuse as I should have arrived even earlier. I assure you I value punctuality in my students and I am greatly embarrassed in even being slightly late this afternoon. I do hope this experience does not sour your opinion of me and you will allow me to show you just how much of an organized man I usually am." He opened up the binder he had brought with all his lesson plans clearly lined out and organized. The insides of the folder did not seem to match the slightly dishevled man sitting before the Headmistress, He cleared his throat,"I do hope to be able to join the staff and help the students to see magic as an extension of themselves. Perhaps you have heard of my upcoming book, Between Worlds: The Art of Conjuring and Summoning? It has been getting quite a few presales. I would be happy to give you a free copy if you'd like to peruse it." he said giving her a warm smile.
In addition to posting a completed application in this forum, we also ask that you submit a PM to Karina Ivansko with details of your class and with the lesson plans for that class (include at least a minimum of 4 lessons). Also, please be sure to check the Available Positions thread located in this forum to make sure the class you want is available before applying. Lesson Plans Sent
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Before you begin, please make sure you have created an account in your character's full name, and make sure you have read and understand the following:
Site Rules | Magical Rules | Our Rating | FAQ
Should you have any questions, please contact an Administrator.
Application for Hogwarts School
→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.Name: Fox Ambrose Birthday: June 22, 1960 Hometown: Berwick, Northumberland, England Bloodline:Muggleborn Magical Strength (pick one):Conjuring & Summoning Magical Weakness (pick one):Charms Year (pick two): Third (Second) Biography: Framed pictures along the staircase depict a large but loving family. Birthdays and holidays alike, days at the beach, out in the nature, the black and white quality of the pictures felt lively and colorful. In many photographs, a young boy appeared, the camera capturing the brightness of his eyes and the joy in his smiles. He was often at his siblings’ sides, the perfect depiction of the eldest child with immeasurable love for his brothers and sisters, and his parents. They would often describe him as an angel, always present and delighted to help in any way possible. Someone to rely on, even for someone so young.
The house lay vacant, the pictures still waiting to get retrieved.
fox, 8 years old
"Mama? Papa?" His vision was blurry. The sharp acute ringing in his ears couldn't let him hear anything. He could feel something wrong with his body, his limbs protesting with every movement despite his brain screaming to move. It all felt very surreal, like reliving the remnants of a dream, or teetering on the edge of consciousness and sleep. Glass bit into his skin, his flesh mutilated by the accident, but he barely glanced at himself, slipping between the front and passenger seats to check on his parents instead. "Mama?" He shook her shoulder. No response. "Papa?" He poked him too and his head flopped, hitting the cracked window. It was fine. It was just a really, really bad nightmare. He'd wake up any time soon and mama would serve him some warm milk. A scream tore through the buzzing in his ears and it was then that his brain succumbed. He didn't wake up, but fell into darkness.
Fox sat on auntie Grace's rocking chair and opened the book, facing it towards the hoard of siblings and cousins that sat before him in their pajamas. He read with fervor, making a different voice for every character and making wide, exaggerated gestures to accentuate the whole story. "Alright, let's get you all tucked in bed! Cousins, I'll be right there!" His cousins climbed up the steps to their rooms. In the living room they were in, Fox guided each of his brother and sister to their makeshift beds. He tucked them in one by one in the mattresses that covered the whole room’s floor. "Fox, when are we going home?" Trystan asked softly, a tinge of sadness in his voice. "This is our home," Fox replied with a gentle smile. "But mama and papa are gone."His smile didn't waver. "But we have each other, Trys! We're all family. Auntie Grace and uncle Lewis will take good care of us." His brother gave a subtle nod. (Not okay, Trys was not okay—) "Here, all wrapped up in a cozy burrito!" Fox exclaimed and tickled his sides over the blanket, sending Trys in a fits of giggles. (Okay, better.) "Nighty night, Trys. I love you." "Nighty night, Fox. I love you too."After all his siblings drifted to sleep and every cousin was looked over, Fox retreated to his bed, a flimsy piece of foam on the hardwood floor with a scratchy blanket that made mean red patches appear on his skin. But it was fine, because his brothers and sisters all had comfortable mattresses and smooth sheets. They were okay.
"Food is ready!" He dumped the extra large pile of scrambled eggs on a plate and put it in the middle of the table where he'd already prepared everyone's fruit bowls, freshly picked from uncle Lewis's garden. He took out the perfectly golden cinnamon rolls from the oven and was welcomed by excited squeals at the delightful smell. "Okay sit down, sit down! Yes, no strawberries in your bowl, Wright. No peanut butter, I know you're allergic, Sibby. I'll get the ketchup right out–" Fox answered to each of his siblings and cousins’ requests, serving plates and helping the youngest ones cut through their breakfast. When they all left to play, Fox nibbled on the leftovers: a quarter of a cinnamon roll and a stale piece of toast. But it was okay, because his family was fed, they were all taken care of. With a smile, he set off to clean the kitchen.
He passed by auntie Grace's room after caring for his cousin Yasmine who'd had a nightmare. He froze on the other side of the door, hearing muffled crying. (Bad, bad, bad, he needed to do something—) "Auntie Grace?" He opened the door and rushed to his aunt's side when his worst suspicion was confirmed: she was crying. He sat next to her and squeezed her hand. "What's wrong, auntie?" "Oh dear Fox, I miss them so."He nodded, soft concern in his wide blue eyes. This wasn't the first time he'd encountered auntie Grace heartbroken and breaking. Like every other time, Fox listened to her recount stories of his mama and papa, of their wonderful souls and the injustice of life, how they were taken too soon. Like every other time, he would squeeze her hand and focus on her, taking the load of emotions off her shoulders to free herself the burden of grief. Like every other time, he would hug her as she sobbed, rubbing her back until she was depleted of tears. “What would we do without you, Fox?” she murmured in his hair. ”What would we do without you?” she repeated softly, lowly, solemnly.
“A…A school of… magic?” His aunt nodded. ”It’s a brilliant occasion for you, Fox. Your uncle and I would really like to send you.”“B-But you need me!” ”Fox—“ Auntie Grace leaned forward, taking his hands in hers. ”We’ll be alright, sweetheart. You don’t have to worry about us—““But who will clean the house? Make food for everyone? Who will pick up everyone from school? Buy food? Uncle Lewis is always working and—Auntie Grace?” His heart raced in his chest. She looked sad. She looked like when she thought of mama and papa, her eyes glossing over with tears, her lips tight. (Bad, bad, bad—) “Auntie Grace, what’s wrong?” ”Oh, Fox. What have we done to you?”fox, 11 years old
He skimmed through the binder one last time. He had a section for each Ambrose child; a list of likes and dislikes, favorite food and toys. A bedtime routine, list of allergies, best ways to help them calm down when unnerved. Every piece of knowledge he had of his brothers, sisters and cousins, he wrote and prepared for auntie Grace and uncle Lewis. ”Fox, we have to go!”“I’m coming!” Fox looked at himself in the mirror. He was leaving for Hogwarts. Leaving behind his whole family for his education. Auntie Grace said it was good, but then why did he feel wrong all over? Why was his hands clammy and shaky? Why was his heart racing at a crazy speed? (Bad, bad, bad—) Blue eyes stared at their reflection. It was okay. His family would be okay. Everything was in the binder. They would be fine without him. Or he would find a way to fix it from afar. Yeah, he would fix it! He would. He had to. For his family. Because mama and papa were g— (Bad, bad, bad, bad—) ( No.) Fox smiled. (Better—) Everything would be alright. ( Oh Fox, what did we do to you?) He was alright. (Bad, bad, bad—) → ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.House Request: Fox fits the Hufflepuff mold quite nicely, but feel free to put him elsewhere if necessary Personality:Fox Ambrose is sunshine in a bottle. His purpose is to serve others and bring joy to all in any way possible. He always concerns himself with people’s well-beings and he will do everything in his power to give people what they seek for, ranging from a quick hug to spending hours in a kitchen baking someone’s great-grandmother’s apple pie recipe. A gentle soul with a golden heart, Fox is very loyal to his friends and will sacrifice everything for them and his family. He believes that kindness is key and strives to complement people and highlight all their qualities. In need of a personal cheerleader, Fox Ambrose is there for you (even has the chant written down and everything!). Appearance:Fox’s most striking feature is his blue eyes, like shards of a summer sky. Upon first inspection, they feel like they pierce right through you, but beneath the intensity of his shade lays a quiet warmth and kindness. He has a dash of light freckles across his nose cheekbones. His face is not fully maturing yet, still holding the soft lines of a prepubescent boy. He’s average size for a boy his age. His brown hair is flat but easy to play with (have fun trying to braid it!). → SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.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 2:That rat of his was in for it now. The gray little rascal had disappeared from his clutches at breakfast. Again. Before Hugh even knew what was happening, Merlin had shot across the floor, somehow managing to avoid all the feet walking across the hall and had escaped through the open doors. Which meant that Hugh was now stomping through rows of flowers and other various flora, searching for the small creature. It was like the rat knew Hugh was allergic to most flowers. Merlin always chose to run to the gardens whenever he got away from Hugh. It was as if the rat did not want to have him for an owner. Hugh had named his pet Merlin because he had hoped the powerful name would give the rat more incentive to be more than a rat. Not that he expected Merlin to change into a wizard or anything, but rats were just so...useless, for the most part. With a name like Merlin, Hugh thought it might give the rat purpose. The only purpose Merlin seemed to have was getting away from Hugh as often as possible. As the fifth year trudged into the second row of flowers, not taking much care to avoid trampling the first row, he felt the first sneeze building up pressure in his nose and behind his eyes. "You blasted rat! Where are you?" He pulled apart a section of bright red flowers; he didn't know what they were called because he despised flowers, and ducked his head low to peer into the depths of the flowerbed. It was moving closer in proximity to the flowers that finally did it. Hugh took in three great breaths and then let out an almighty sneeze. It was strong enough to disturb some of the dirt on the ground before him. Groaning, he stood up again and wiped his nose on his sleeve. It was as he was turning his head, his nose running up and down his arm, that movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Normally one who preferred to put his best face forward, Hugh was a bit embarrassed to be caught wiping his runny nose on his robes. Nevertheless, Hugh put on his best haughty voice. albeit a bit thickly with his plugged nose and said, "Can I help you with something? It is not polite to stare." Roleplay Response:His spoonful of cereal was halfway to his mouth when he caught sight of the rat bolting away from its owner. A flurry of robes chased after it—Hugh! It was Hugh’s rat! He didn’t know the fifth year, never exchanged a word, but Fox collected names and remembered them easily; it would be most disrespectful not knowing how to address someone! And in this particular case, it would serve him well! Dropping his spoon in his milk, Fox left his customary thank you note to the house elves (the cranky one always chased him out of the kitchens when he dared try to clean his own dishes) by his bowl and followed after the boy. Some time later, he found himself by the gardens just in time to hear a loud sneezing that made the ground vibrate beneath his soles. “Whoa!” "Can I help you with something? It is not polite to stare."“You’re so right! I’m so sorry! I just thought—oh here, this’ll help.” He dropped his bag to the ground and rummaged through the countless things he kept in there—a plethora of necessities he carried around, force of habit when he was back home to take care of everyone—and offered the boy a new pack of tissue paper. “Hugh, right? I saw your rat run away and thought you needed some help!” → ABOUT YOU.Please list any characters you have on the site (current and previous): Alice Swan and co. How did you find us?: Google at the time
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