Pureblood

11, born 21 September

Male

It is a well-circulated and true rumour that the Kingston suffer from a centuries old curse: they may bear only one child, thus they are fiercely protective of their own by any mean necessary. Their reputation precedes them and serves as a foremost deterrent to any harm that might threaten their kin. They strive to acquire knowledge and power; their reach is immense. Rumour has it that the Kingston puppet the Ministry of Magic, having had done so for generations, and that they know almost all the secrets about almost everyone in the world. Rumour has it that their curse was cast by Lord Voldemort himself, maybe even Merlin, or the great Salazar Slytherin, which is why they can't break it. Rumour has it that if you cross a Kingston, your entire family will perish overnight - it happened to the Macpherson and the Higgins and the Flanagans.



The curse has shaped each Kingston. Most drastically and recently, Giles’ paternal grandfather, who graduated from Ravenclaw, became a Death Eater in an attempt to use Voldemort’s power. Aeron didn’t succeed in lifting the curse, but the atrocities he committed tainted the family name and worse, marred the memories of his wife and son about him. He disappeared from the common world after the War to spend the last of his withered life at home and passed away surrounded by his loved ones when Giles was one.

While the surviving Kingston have never actively been on the dark side, the spike of notoriety gained was a bonus they use to their advantage; still, they did not want a repeat of the past. Giles was brought up to lead a happy loving life in the countryside mansion with a knowledge of the curse, to accept it was the way they were, but without an imposed sense of duty to break it. But that wasn’t to say they weren’t strict and disciplined about his studies nor did they stress the importance of protecting themselves from the dangers that lurked in every corner. The Kingston intend to maintain themselves as a wealthy, powerful, upper class family, that have been so for centuries, despite their single-lined genealogy. Giles is intelligent and curious, and his passive obedience to his parents and grandmother made him a joy to teach despite his paltry drive to succeed in traditional academia. They hardly had him away from their sides learning about theoretical magic in books and games to etiquette and socialising in any situation. Giles grasped the importance of not only using magic for protection but also social knowledge. He is always polite, friendly to everybody no matter who they were or how they appear and will not reasonably decline an invitation. He can be trusted to keep his word no matter what. On the flip side, he has little sense of loyalty to anyone but his family out of learning from them the utility of people; he doesn’t break the rules nor step out of bounds, not because he’s afraid but due to a murky feeling of danger, of fear and paranoia, his family has instilled in him.

The other strong influence on his character was a brief friendship with a herd of centaurs that lived in the forest beside their land. Giles, intrigued and in awe of these magnificent creatures with their mysterious understanding of the world, honed a sense of honour and integrity not dissimilar to their ethos. The boy’s natural patience in what interests him and learned courtesy earned him the favour of the herd. Their culture further encouraged a sense of self-determination in his endeavours, particularly in creative, outlandish pursuits of knowledge or personal matters of importance. Giles owes a deep seated respect for magical creatures to the time he spent with the centaurs.

Giles is lithe, of average height, with dark brown hair, sky blue eyes that charm with his easy smile, and an unblemished complexion that is hard to tan. He wears a parting gift from his family on his right ring finger that has been enchanted to stay on: the white-gold band was carved out to depict centaurs and the stars, it encircles the centrepiece blue diamond. His dressing style speaks of understated wealth and he presumes to own nothing less.

Beech, Dragon heartstring, 12 inches, reasonably supple.

Fear of injection.

He is descended from a long line of Ravenclaw that had various marriages to other Houses and statuses. Relationships with Muggles were rare though not forbidden.

His parents were Ravenclaw prefects. His father Vincent was an excellent Chaser and his mother Clair a scarily accurate Beater. Grandmother Josephine Waterford of Hufflepuff was not particularly notable except for her marriage into the Kingston family and her steadfast devotion to Aeron even at the worst of times.

He’s straight, 99% sure of it.

Halfblood

Eleven ★ July 27 ★ Leo

Female

Upon receiving her required textbooks as a first year, Nova's mother zeroed in on the red leather-bound copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and personally accepted the challenge. She dropped out of Hogwarts during her fifth year in pursuit of this goal, and henceforth adopted the ways of a nomad. There was too much to see to be confined in a castle for seven years, after all. Nova's mother has gone all over the world to see the fantastic beasts for herself, and with Scamander as her guide, find them, she did. Two and a half decades (plus one traveling companion) later, the red leather has worn; the pages of the book faded and marked and filled to the brim with copious annotations; loose sheets ripped from newer versions appended with a clumsy spell; and she has done it.


Nova was born during what her mother liked to call the Hebredian Black Standstill, in reference to the longest period of time she had stayed in one place (a grand total of ten months in one of the uninhabited Inner Hebrides). The night Nova was born was one of miracles, her mum boasted. The stars were restless and uncannily lustrous, as though waiting in anticipation, and there, looming in the horizon, was the elusive Hebridean Black. Nova gave her first cry just as the fearsome dragon roared, and her mum knew she had been blessed.


In the beaten-up copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them that is the Oswin family bible, there's a sheet of paper sticking out from between the pages.

Ingredients for a Zvjezdana:

A dollop of Hebridean Black ferocity,

Don't get her angry, or face the dragon's wrath. Nova is 98% instincts and 3% brain; the makings of a savage better suited to prowl along the Forbidden Forest than to mingle in with society. Raised in an environment where the only distinction is predator or prey and the philosophy is eat or be eaten, she has learned all too well how to fend for herself and those she cares about. When things go south, she is not afraid to resort to more... aggressive tactics.

A handful of Unicorn ingenuousness,

Lack of consistent human contact means she has yet to be exposed to the finer points of social interaction. Nova is susceptible to getting tricked and manipulated, especially if big words are thrown around to confuse her. But a word to the wise: don't let her know she's been tricked. Nova doesn't take well to being fooled.

It's hard for her to pick up on even the most blatant of lies, but she is good at noticing body language; usually, her gut knows when something's wrong but her brain doesn't know what it is.

Three cups of Phoenix tenacity,

Never say never, unless you're saying "I'll never give up." No matter what obstacle is thrown her way, Nova will conquer it. She will get back up each time she falls, dust herself off, and continue marching on. Self-assured and fueled by an absolute belief that she can take on anything, no matter how big or powerful, Nova prefers to be in the brunt of the action.

On the flip side, Nova is too proud to ask for help, especially when she is in dire need of it.

A pint of Manticore recklessness,

Act now, think later! As a purely instinctive creature, Nova rarely thinks things through before diving headlong into it, under the belief that she can accomplish anything with sheer force of will (or just sheer force). She relies on her quick reflexes and intuitions above all, and she has long decided that unnecessary pondering can only hinder one's actions.

Idiotically bold, she is also flippant in the face of danger. This is a little girl who tried to fight a Hippogriff because she was jealous of the attention it got from her mother. Luckily, the Hippogriff was a mother as well and didn't take offense from the seven-year-old trying to hop onto its back.

Fourteen tablespoons of Pixie playfulness

Nova likes to tussle and roughhouse and go on secret adventures with people she likes, and it is only with them that she becomes openly affectionate. There's a bit of an issue with her and personal boundaries (read: she has none), and she has to be reminded every now again when she unwittingly crosses them.

Two gallons of Crup loyalty,

Once you have gained Nova's trust, it will remain with you forever. There is nothing she wouldn't do for one she considers a friend, no mountain too high or water too deep and all that. Nova believes trust is sacred, and an act of betrayal is perhaps the worst thing that could be done to her. She will take it to heart, and she will never forget.

Nine kilograms of Human awkwardness,

Oh, Nova. While she can correctly identify the temper of an owl from its hoot, she cannot grasp the convoluted ways of a human. Sarcasm and subtle insinuations fly over her head, and she will most likely take things at face value. Try not to use too many metaphors in one sentence or she'll start to lose track of what you're really talking about. Social cues are also a bit of a mystery to her, and if she ever manages to catch one, she will have to ask for clarification. Basically, Nova has to be blatantly told when she's reacting to a situation incorrectly.

Nova has the subtlety of an Erumpent on a rampage, and she is as blunt and straightforward as they come, sometimes brutally so. She sees no need for omitting the truth, especially when it only complicates things.

A child of the wilderness, through and through. There's something almost feral about Nova's general gait and demeanor, apparent whether she's graceful and sure and swift, like a predator stalking its prey, or cagey and restless like a wary kitten. The last time she checked, she is as tall as two fwoopers and a fairy, sitting cross-legged and cross-armed and glaring daggers, stacked on top of each other. That means she's grown half a fairy in the last year! She's got skinny arms and legs and a trim figure thanks to all the adventuring she does, and probably from eating only leaf greens and fruits, too. Her once fair complexion has since become sun-kissed, at least it is underneath the layer of dirt and soot caked on top and the smattering of bruises big and small. Mum wants her to try and stay clean in Hogwarts, but she can't make any promises.

Her hair is long and messy and will stay that way unless someone does it for her, which she really loves. Playing with her hair is the possibly the best way to soothe her. Nova likes how her mum describes its color: caramel on top and honey at the bottom. It makes it sounds really yummy. She has only gotten it cut once in her whole life, and it was by accident. Funny story: did you know a Malaclaw bite gives you bad luck for one whole week? Nova did, but that didn't protect her from getting bitten. On the last unlucky day, she stumbled across a Snargaluff that attacked her hair with its prickly vines and wouldn't let go. She had to cut it to escape, and now her hair ends at her waist instead of her thigh.

For all the keener senses she supposedly developed out in the wild, fashion sense is definitely none one of them. Nova dresses for function instead of form and picks out whichever is easiest to move in. She has a bit of a pickle with the robes for this reason. It's too easy to get it caught on something.

Redwood | Dragon Heartstring (with the tiniest Chimera Fragment) | 9 ½ inches | Supple

When she was nine, Nova and her mother encountered an elderly woman, a retired wandmaker, living alone in a small hut located in the middle of a forest. Her sight had all but left her, yet she moved about the land expertly, weaving through thickets with ease and warding off dangerous creatures lurking about with a simply swish of her hand. They spent a whole week with her. While her mother was off tracking down and observing Clabberts, Nova kept the wizened woman company. She listened to her accounts of her past, and oh, she had so many wonderful tales to tell that the week flew by in a flash.

The woman, touched that Nova listened to her with her whole heart, decided to give her a special parting gift. A wand crafted in her image. It had been a while since she made one, and she had been itching to do it again. The woman gathered the materials herself, and Nova was entreated to the spectacular sight of a master wandmaker in action. Even though she could not see, her hands remembered, and the wand was as well-crafted as any she'd seen.

The wand itself was almost like an extension of herself, Nova thought. It fit in her hand perfectly, and seemed to possess a similar temper as her (though that may not always be a good thing).

Her mother, except it's not her mother, because there's no smile on her face (or a mouth at all!) and no gleam in her eyes. She is sallow and world-weary and she casts her precious copy of Fantasic Beasts aside like it's nothing. Her touch is not warm or loving but cold and distant, and she looks at Nova with indifference.

★ She must have had a father at some point, but she has never met him. Every time she asks, the story changes. It's even become a little family tradition: before she sleeps, she would ask who and where her father was, and every night, it would be a different man in a different place. A sweet-tempered Hungarian Healer roaming the world in search of cures for the incurable. A tough American Auror who lost his life saving hundreds of people. A misunderstood Welsh Werewolf, forced to live in seclusion to protect his wife and unborn child from himself. She's left wondering if there's some truth to her bedtime stories, but she doesn't mind the not knowing so much. Nova loves the stories her mum weaves, and she'd rather listen to them than force her to tell her something she's not ready to share.

★ Speaking of stories: Nova loves them very much, but she hates reading. The letters get mixed up and jumbled when she stares at them too long and they make the words difficult to understand. It gets frustrating really quickly. She much prefers listening to stories, and will hang onto your every word should you grace her with one. In the same light, Nova learns best by listening and actually has excellent echoic memory.

★ She has a Jobberknoll friend called Rhapsody that insisted on tagging along with her to Hogwarts. He was the fledgling of the Jobberknoll her mum once saved and he has been attached to Nova ever since he hatched.

★ She's terribly sensitive to the cold.