Hogwarts School: A Harry Potter RPG

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→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.

Name: Salazar Smallstar

Birthday: 1 Jan 1949

Hometown: Foamcrest Estate, England

Bloodline:
Pureblood

Magical Strength (pick one):
Charms

Magical Weakness (pick one):
Conjuring & Summoning

Year (pick two):
Seventh
Sixth

Biography:
1.
The Smallstars have never forgotten where we came from. (Yes, of course I know it by heart. Shoosh.) The annals record and we remember. Even into the mist-most caverns of magical history, the great and powerful House of Smallstar outperformed peon and peer alike. Gertred the Smallstar, lastborn daughter of Helga the Greatstar, came to these isles and left truth and learning in her footprints. (Of course the original rhymes. This is a translation. Don’t interrupt.) It was Gertred who set the cornerstone of Foamcrest Estate on the great overhang, and also she who planted the saplings from which sprang Threewood (it’s Fourwood now. We planted Snakewood trees, but the story can’t be changed). Gertred planted a legacy which forever has and will endure. In deed and word, no pureblood family lives who claims as worthy a founder.
(There’s a long part about Gertred’s sixteen daughters and the big fight they had that broke Gertred’s island. Family protocol says I can cut things if it’s not a formal telling. Except the first and last one. Can’t skip the skeleton parts).

17.
Her descendant, Bede of Smallstar, second of his name, learned mysteries from the lips of the first teachers of Hogwarts. As befit the untainted blood of Gertred, we were welcomed by the great wandmaker and legimens, Salazar Slytherin. (That’s who I was named for. It means Old Hall. Salazar, not Slytherin. I don’t know what Slytherin means. Something about snakes.) Yet Smallstars deny not learnings that can be wrested from the chalken grasp of weak-blood lessers; upon the departure of the sage from those storied halls, Bede of Smallstar remained and retained the pride of purity at Hogwarts.
(Until Demeter Smallstar last century. She had ‘the fears’ about muggles. Mostly didn’t leave the house. Her kids were homeschooled, and their kids, and theirs. Great-granddad Horace told me the school would poison my brain. Jokes on you, Great-granddad, I’m a poison to everything I touch. And now you’re dead and Grandad Phoebus says know-your-enemy. Not that he’d ever be close enough to a mudblood to know them).

58.
Daughter, survivor, wise-and-great, the least of Phoebus’ daughters became his greatest. Morrigu, who dares and writes still as her twilight reigns. (Means she’s allowed to change her story up until she dies.) All the greatest opals of six new family mines do her servants shine. (She’s done nothing with her life. Somehow that’s my fault.)

59.
Ever bright burns the Smallstar line. Seven lights stand on the Foamcrest cliffs and burns to make the Smallstar great, yet only one will rise to light the sky. (They did it on purpose. Wanted their heir to be seventh daughter to seventh daughter. Being a guy was the first disappointment and not the last). In the footsteps (blah-blah-blah, I name all my dead ancestors - - )

(- - This stopped being fun. Did I pass your little test or what? Am I pureblood enough for you?)

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.
Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.

House Request:
Gryffindor please!

Personality:
Salazar desperately wants to be an angry rebel but probably doesn’t have the patience to maintain rebellion. Negative attention is as good as positive attention.

Appearance:
Skin too smooth to be believably effortless. The messed-up hair took at least 20 minutes to achieve. Short blonde hair. The holes in his clothes are part of the design and cost extra.

→ 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.

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“Your little friend’s likely in her bed.” He scowled the brat up and down but kept the volume no greater than a hiss. “Where you should be.”


Quick snog in the dungeons, just after curfew. Sure. Easy, as long as you could avoid the runts scuttling around your feet and calling all the prefects and prof-ects down on your head with incessant howling for their friends. The creatures had no proper business in the halls after dark, not like enterprising snoggers such as Sal.

His quarry, a gorgeous sixth year, was skittish enough about the idea of a detention without being scared off by a commotion. Desperation could drive a soul to strange tales.

“Or the quidditch pitch.” Yes. Good and far away. By the time the child sniffed deception, they’d be far enough to be someone else’s problem. “There’s an Emma at the quidditch pitch. Why don’t you look for her there?”


→ ABOUT YOU.

Please list any characters you have  on the site (current and previous): Lysander Stone, Bedwyr Bedrydant, Rowena Summersmith.

How did you find us?: I am cursed to return here until my mortal business is completed.