Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG

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→ 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:

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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.

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"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.

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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.

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"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.

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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.

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“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?”

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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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