✸ Dorian Gray ✸ Second-Year ✸ Gryffindor ✸
✸ NAME ✸ Dorian Gray
✸ SPECIES ✸ Human
✸ AGE ✸ 12
✸ SEX ✸ Male
✸ BLOOD STATUS ✸ Pure Blood
✸ DOB ✸ October 25, 2006
✸ HOUSE ✸ Gryffindor
✸ SCHOOL YEAR ✸ 2nd
✸ PATRONUS ✸ N/A
✸ WAND ✸ 20.9cm Cherry Wood and Unicorn Hair - Flexible, very resistant, which requires endurance and determination, very efficient for transfiguration spells.
✧APPEARANCE✧
✸ HEIGHT ✸ 5'2"
✸ WEIGHT ✸ 129 lbs
✸ EYE ✸ Persian Blue
✸ HAIR COLOR ✸ Dark Brown
✸ BUILD ✸ Mesomorph
Both earlobes are pierced much to his mother's great horror, compliments of a wish granted by his father on his eleventh birthday. When not in classes or in official attendance he usually wears small diamond studs in both ears.
PERSONALITY
Never has there been a more stubborn person in existence. At his best one could swear he is the devil's spawn. At his worst? Well... It's best not to stray that far. If he deems it so then it is so, and no amount of effort; though one is always welcome to try, will get him to alter his mindset, even if he later finds that he was in the wrong. It will never be admitted. Rather, he asserts his beliefs and claims onto others with vehement aplomb. He is typically the first to start throwing punches, things, or people with some to barely any provocation, resulting from his fiery temperament. Given his sharp tongue and more abrasive traits, he is often mistaken to be an "unlearned brute", but alas, the best and most expensive tutors of many fields that monies can buy have been tossed at him from a very young age, availing him of a deceptively clever mind and various talents. He enjoys his studies, though he will never admit it, especially in relation to the many different words in many different languages. He has a quick mind but elects not to show it in favour of being the "unlearned brute" that everyone suspects that he is.
FAMILY - HISTORY
THEN
✸ DATE ✸ Early June - 2006
Reducio
It was freezing, the frigid wind hurling itself mercilessly against the glass panes that made all the difference as it created the staunch divide between warmth and cold. As the outdoors howled in agony and covered the world in a sheet of compact white, the indoors heard only silence and saw a dim glow from a fire. There were two silhouettes wrapped in each others' arms, naught but whispers to be heard as they exchanged sweet nothings, oblivious to the turmoil just beyond the glass. A closer view would reveal a man and woman speaking words that would mean nothing to the common onlooker. He was Rasmus Gray. She was Nia Feld.
Both Pure of Blood, both of magical descent, and both so madly in love. Their passion that night left them sated, and now they only spoke. Nia asked a question. Rasmus responded. Rasmus asked a question. Nia responded. It went on like this for the remainder of the night, neither of them seemed willing to part the other's company. That was all well and good, however, as they had nowhere to go. There would be no departure into this storm, for it was like a conjuration designed to hinder as it ravaged the world beyond their silent abode. The fire crackled softly, the only disturbance to the quiet and whispers inside, and even though the storm of white outside howled with a vengeance, the glass panes remained staunch against the sound and the force. But it was freezing...
Both Pure of Blood, both of magical descent, and both so madly in love. Their passion that night left them sated, and now they only spoke. Nia asked a question. Rasmus responded. Rasmus asked a question. Nia responded. It went on like this for the remainder of the night, neither of them seemed willing to part the other's company. That was all well and good, however, as they had nowhere to go. There would be no departure into this storm, for it was like a conjuration designed to hinder as it ravaged the world beyond their silent abode. The fire crackled softly, the only disturbance to the quiet and whispers inside, and even though the storm of white outside howled with a vengeance, the glass panes remained staunch against the sound and the force. But it was freezing...
✸ DATE ✸ Late June - 2006
Reducio
Weeks had gone by in a blur of activity as the world kept turning, and we find the happy couple out on a casual stroll one evening, talking about life as it was, as it is, and as it would be. Nia had everything planned out as she spoke through the list of things she wanted for herself and for her lover. A big house all their own, power and station in their respective fields, each other, as she felt the need to reiterate. These were all that mattered to her it seemed, but one thing that she had saved for last, the biggest wish of them all, was that she wanted to start a family with him. The secret came out in a moment of glee that she could not contain, and she had told him then and there that she was pregnant with his child.
Rasmus had remained silent during the entire conversation, whether out of respect, uncertainty or disinterest, we would soon learn. He took it all in stride as he did all things in life, and even smiled handsomely at just the right moments to show her that he had been paying attention. And then the final revelation had been made, and as she had looked to him for that same reassuring smile, she instead found hard lines and cold eyes that betrayed nothing but the denial and rejection he felt. He had stopped walking as she stepped away, and he looked at her, no, through her as she stood there and watched him quietly. It was clear what had left him so distant, and she wished she could take back the words, but it was far too late.
That same night, a heated conversation could be heard from the small household that they shared. She was pleading for him to reconsider. He was having none of it as he packed his things with an efficiency of magic and purpose. He was leaving, had already been gone long before the night had fallen. For though his body now went through the motions his mind had long since departed this place and the life that Nia had planned to build with him. He left her no good reason as to why he could not stay, but stay he could not, would not, and his physical departure soon followed the mental departure from hours past. Nia, the poor girl, found herself lost and very much pregnant, a fact she had learned only that day and had wanted to share. If only she had waited a bit longer.
Rasmus had remained silent during the entire conversation, whether out of respect, uncertainty or disinterest, we would soon learn. He took it all in stride as he did all things in life, and even smiled handsomely at just the right moments to show her that he had been paying attention. And then the final revelation had been made, and as she had looked to him for that same reassuring smile, she instead found hard lines and cold eyes that betrayed nothing but the denial and rejection he felt. He had stopped walking as she stepped away, and he looked at her, no, through her as she stood there and watched him quietly. It was clear what had left him so distant, and she wished she could take back the words, but it was far too late.
That same night, a heated conversation could be heard from the small household that they shared. She was pleading for him to reconsider. He was having none of it as he packed his things with an efficiency of magic and purpose. He was leaving, had already been gone long before the night had fallen. For though his body now went through the motions his mind had long since departed this place and the life that Nia had planned to build with him. He left her no good reason as to why he could not stay, but stay he could not, would not, and his physical departure soon followed the mental departure from hours past. Nia, the poor girl, found herself lost and very much pregnant, a fact she had learned only that day and had wanted to share. If only she had waited a bit longer.
✸ DATE ✸ Late October - 2006
Reducio
Nine long months had passed. The girl, long since turned a woman, had carried her burdens to term, finding herself now surrounded by an army of nurses tending her every whim and fancy. More water. Something to eat. Comfortable clothing. The sheet needed changing. More food. Nothing was denied her as she made her requests and found each one fulfilled without fuss. It was almost time, she could feel it. There was a kick. The swell in her belly was ready to burst.
Giving birth was not as it has been romanticized to be, she soon discovered, for when the child was ready to come, come he would in a bath of pain and blood, kicking and screaming as if announcing his arrival for the world to hear. When she first held him, a beautiful baby boy, she peered into his eyes as blue as the Bay of Biscay, all the memories flooding back as she fought back the tears. A time when she had known true love, or a shallow imitation. A time when she had been loved by another, though that love had not withstood the test of time. Dorian. This was her little Dorian, and she gave him the surname Gray.
Giving birth was not as it has been romanticized to be, she soon discovered, for when the child was ready to come, come he would in a bath of pain and blood, kicking and screaming as if announcing his arrival for the world to hear. When she first held him, a beautiful baby boy, she peered into his eyes as blue as the Bay of Biscay, all the memories flooding back as she fought back the tears. A time when she had known true love, or a shallow imitation. A time when she had been loved by another, though that love had not withstood the test of time. Dorian. This was her little Dorian, and she gave him the surname Gray.
✸ DATE ✸ Late December - 2007
Reducio
The woman had watched the boy grow throughout the single year that had passed, joy filling her to the brim as she cooed at him and he responded with a coo of his own. It was the magic of love between a mother and her son, an unshakeable bond that could not be tried, for failure would surely ensue. The boy was walking, the boy was saying baby words. The child was a precocious little thing, fascinated by everything and shaken by nothing. A fighter, this one, Nia could see, but her thoughts drifted downward as a crystal tear fell to the note she wrote.
A letter, it was, being written in pain, but the woman took her time on the task. Everything must be perfect, of that she was certain. These, her final words, would have to say all the things that she could not, had not, should have, never could. Never would be able to. It was addressed to him, the man to whom her heart had belonged, telling him of the wonderful gift that he had left her. Dorian. It was about Dorian, the boy who was but a babe, a mother wanting more for her child than she could ever offer in life, and least of all in death. An owl stood perched, the letter was sealed, the bird took flight, and the woman watched the boy. She reached for him slowly, the boy came willingly, and the embrace that followed said all beyond word. He was loved, and she was dead.
A letter, it was, being written in pain, but the woman took her time on the task. Everything must be perfect, of that she was certain. These, her final words, would have to say all the things that she could not, had not, should have, never could. Never would be able to. It was addressed to him, the man to whom her heart had belonged, telling him of the wonderful gift that he had left her. Dorian. It was about Dorian, the boy who was but a babe, a mother wanting more for her child than she could ever offer in life, and least of all in death. An owl stood perched, the letter was sealed, the bird took flight, and the woman watched the boy. She reached for him slowly, the boy came willingly, and the embrace that followed said all beyond word. He was loved, and she was dead.
BETWEEN
✸ RASMUS ✸ Early March - 2007
Reducio
The contents of the letter left nary a question to be asked. This was the place. This was the time. The game had begun, a lone player in place. Years, it had been. So many years since so much as a peep had been heard from his dear friend Asher. How he had longed to know what had become of him all this time. The letter was like a blessing disguise; a tragedy soon foretold.
✸ ASHER ✸
Reducio
It was not her fault, that much he knew. It had not ever been her fault, he had told himself as he scribbled the letter out in fury, breaking his quill twice and tearing the parchment once, ink dripping onto the edges of the parchment as his rage made him careless. But he stood now in a rage, fists clenched until his knuckles turned white and his hands ached. His anger, however, drowned the twangs of protest his nerves sent him with the screen of red that dropped over his vision.
He knew Rasmus Gray, he knew him well-- knew him from the carefree years of schooling, from their shared laughs in the dorm room of the house of Slytherin, from the classes they attended together. That school had been where he had met Natalia, after all, and he had not thought that such turmoil could have been born out of their familiarity.
The redness deepened as he descried the figure that had since come into view, a figure shadowed by darkness yet a form he knew well-- and hated so.
He knew Rasmus Gray, he knew him well-- knew him from the carefree years of schooling, from their shared laughs in the dorm room of the house of Slytherin, from the classes they attended together. That school had been where he had met Natalia, after all, and he had not thought that such turmoil could have been born out of their familiarity.
The redness deepened as he descried the figure that had since come into view, a figure shadowed by darkness yet a form he knew well-- and hated so.
✸ RASMUS ✸
Reducio
Periodic glances at his watch and swift scans of the area revealed naught but lateness and the foreboding silence that hung like a star in the dark of the night sky. “Where is he?” The question met darkness and it too faded away. There had been no mistake of time and place. Asher was simply not here. “Maybe he’s running a bit late. I’ll give him a few more minutes before I go.” The words were spoken to the wind as he paced the secluded street.
There, in the corners of his eyes, he noticed the silhouette of a man clinging to the shadows. “Ash?”
There, in the corners of his eyes, he noticed the silhouette of a man clinging to the shadows. “Ash?”
✸ ASHER ✸
Reducio
His head dipped as he heard his old friend speak, barely containing his rage-- but then, he had always had control over his emotions, more than he could say about Natalia at times, though he loved her still. Ash stepped forward, the street lamp’s light shafting down to illuminate the glow of his amber eyes, sharp with hate instead of the familiarity he knew-- or that he thought he knew.
"We meet again, old friend," he spoke, his voice laced with fury. The last two words were spat out in contempt-- somehow the words were made the most belittling title that he might be able to utter in the face of his former fellow Slytherin. His wand twitched in his whitened grip behind his back.
"We meet again, old friend," he spoke, his voice laced with fury. The last two words were spat out in contempt-- somehow the words were made the most belittling title that he might be able to utter in the face of his former fellow Slytherin. His wand twitched in his whitened grip behind his back.
✸ RASMUS ✸
Reducio
It was all wrong. Seclusion in the shadows was not what elicited suspicion, but the wild stare of his friend’s eyes, the venom in his voice as he bespoke. It was the heated contempt with which he watched him as if some lowly speck in the dirt to be stepped on. Rasmus smiled warmly nonetheless if a little tense. “Ash, my dear friend. It’s been far too long. How have you been? I trust all is well?” The trusting fool he was, he stepped closer with only the barest of unease. It had been so long. An embrace was in order.
✸ ASHER ✸
Reducio
So he was oblivious. Oblivious, so completely oblivious of the situation! But this did nothing to mitigate the anger he felt-- and Ash breathed, in and out, collected himself as his friend spoke, bewildered and cordial.
As he stepped forward, however, Ash’s wand whipped out and sent a Knockback Jinx straight into the other man’s chest. "All has been well," he replied, tone as cool as the night they stood in, a sea of seething rage hidden underneath the winds of winter. "Well... until you."
As he stepped forward, however, Ash’s wand whipped out and sent a Knockback Jinx straight into the other man’s chest. "All has been well," he replied, tone as cool as the night they stood in, a sea of seething rage hidden underneath the winds of winter. "Well... until you."
✸ RASMUS ✸
Reducio
Its coming had not been seen. There had been no time to prepare. He flew through the air in an eruption of sparks, the feeling in his chest akin to that of a blunt trauma. His body was at its peak, however, and the force of the attack had not been wrought with destructive intent. He could feel the taunting restraint on his friend’s part. He needed to defend himself.
“What is the meaning of this, Ash?!” His own wand was at the ready, held with a tight grip and an intent to use if necessary. “If I have done something to vex you, my friend, let it be known!”
“What is the meaning of this, Ash?!” His own wand was at the ready, held with a tight grip and an intent to use if necessary. “If I have done something to vex you, my friend, let it be known!”
✸ ASHER ✸
Reducio
He really was clueless, after all-- so much as a spring chick. "Vex me? Vex me?!" His disbelieving laugh echoed out toward the street from the alley they stood in. "I will give you a name, Rasmus Gray, and perhaps then you will understand." The man stalked forward, wand pointed with cold precision at the fallen man before him, not shaking along with the rest of his body. The two had duelled, with good nature, in their schooling years-- but Ash had always been just a tiny bit more skilled in spellwork, even as Rasmus strode higher than him in other subjects.
"The name," he hissed, breathing heavily, "Is Natalia Cesselia Flores."
"The name," he hissed, breathing heavily, "Is Natalia Cesselia Flores."
✸ RASMUS ✸
Reducio
TThe widening of his eyes and the loud gasp that fell from his parted lips said all that needed to be said. He had last seen Natalia nearly a year ago, the night one that he remembered fondly even now. “Has she-?” No. He would not be in such a rage if that were the case. Rasmus questioned his own thoughts critically, miffed that he had not yet put the pieces of the puzzle together.
Then it came to him. Flores! Could she have? Could they have? The realization dawned in his eyes, and Ash was able to see it as clear as day. “I had no idea. I thought… I thought you two-” No amount of excuses or utterances of ‘sorry’ would change what had been done. He had been with his old friend’s wife.
Then it came to him. Flores! Could she have? Could they have? The realization dawned in his eyes, and Ash was able to see it as clear as day. “I had no idea. I thought… I thought you two-” No amount of excuses or utterances of ‘sorry’ would change what had been done. He had been with his old friend’s wife.
✸ ASHER ✸
Reducio
Rasmus’s stammers did nothing to calm him; only fanned the fire of anger that continued to burn in the pit of his raging stomach. How he hated him-- hated his innocent gaze, his regret, his hindsight. A flick of his wand-- "Stupefy!"-- and a blast of light roared toward his target. "But you did," he seethed. "You did, and you never even considered."
✸ RASMUS ✸
Reducio
He quickly fanned his wand through the air in a silent cast of Protego, blocking the spell before it could harm him. Asher seemed lost to reason. He was too far gone. "Forgive me," was all Rasmus managed before he allowed himself to tread along the path they now found themselves on. "Everte Statum!" he intoned as he aimed his wand at his friend.
✸ ASHER ✸
Reducio
The spell rebounded off the barrier Ash conjured with a quick flick of his wrist, and he advanced. "Do you know what came of that night, Rasmus? Do you? Levicorpus!" He shouted the incantation of the spell in fury, only years of practice and training keeping his voice from wavering, and another streak of light shot from the end of his wand.
✸ RASMUS ✸
Reducio
He had been too slow in blocking the spell, now hanging above the ground inverse. "I would have never done as I did, had I known." He aimed his wand at Ash even from his place in the air. “Incarcerous!” The chains sought to caress Ash in their binding embrace. "Liberacorpus!" he incanted for himself, falling like so much dead weight to the ground.
✸ ASHER ✸
Reducio
As his target fell toward the ground and chains whipped toward his body, in rapid succession, a shout of "Diffindo! Diffindo!" and a barrier of protection again sprang up in the short space between them. He advanced again as his Shield Charm faded, wand now shaking in fury.
"I’ve got one more word for you, Ras," he growled, eyes flashing under the silver light of the moon and the yellow glow of the street lamps. "Pregnant."
"I’ve got one more word for you, Ras," he growled, eyes flashing under the silver light of the moon and the yellow glow of the street lamps. "Pregnant."
✸ RASMUS ✸
Reducio
His heart was not in the game, and his mind was far removed. He had been losing before he had even begun and he knew it. And then those spiteful words. Pregnant. Natalia was pregnant. Asher was angry and Natalia was pregnant. He had been with Natalia, Asher was angry and Natalia was pregnant. "She’s pregnant… With-- Mine?" He had lost the will to fight as he rolled onto his back and watched his friend. In a quiet voice, almost a whisper stolen by the breeze, he asked: "How is she; Natalia?" It was the final straw. The short straw, but the final straw nonetheless.
✸ ASHER ✸
Reducio
A red haze filled the young man’s mind at the question displaced so lamely from his opponent’s mouth. "You," he snarled. "You are not worthy to speak her name." A flick of his hand, a full-forced Stunner exploding in a flash of red light from the end of his wand.
"I once thought you were a friend, Ras. I thought the part of you that I knew was my friend-- it is my friend," he added, his control barely keeping him from shouting, but his voice rose louder with every word. He raised a shaking hand toward the quisling’s body again: "Sectumsempra!" Ash shouted, relishing the line of redness his spell cut in his target’s stomach. He turned his quivering want on the loose bricks behind them: "Oppugno!"
"I once thought you were a friend, Ras. I thought the part of you that I knew was my friend-- it is my friend," he added, his control barely keeping him from shouting, but his voice rose louder with every word. He raised a shaking hand toward the quisling’s body again: "Sectumsempra!" Ash shouted, relishing the line of redness his spell cut in his target’s stomach. He turned his quivering want on the loose bricks behind them: "Oppugno!"
✸ RASMUS ✸
Reducio
Stunned and scarred. Dubbed a betrayer. There was nothing he could do to avoid it. He hadn’t even tried. It was perfidy of the highest order, and he was unable, unwilling, to detach himself from the pain he now felt at the angered hands of his once friend. "Is there nothing I can do to mend this? Have I lost the right to redemption in your eyes, my friend?" He raised his wand hand weakly in an attempt to ward himself against the latest spell, but the first brick crashed into the hand with such force that the wand skittered across the hard ground and the bones in his wrist shattered instantly.
The onslaught of physical and emotional torment left him nothing to do but curl into himself, effete and hopelessly trying to shield himself. As a final attempt, "Ash!"
The onslaught of physical and emotional torment left him nothing to do but curl into himself, effete and hopelessly trying to shield himself. As a final attempt, "Ash!"
✸ ASHER ✸
Reducio
The rage, at its acme, hung over Ash like a barrier, letting no words of reason near, no thoughts of logic away his actions. Ras’s plea at his name did nothing to puncture it as he raised a shaking hand to point his wand at the space between his eyes, the quivering tip barely two inches from each eye.
"But I suppose that part of you has died. Consider this the funeral." For a moment he paused, weighing his options in obvious aggravation. He could kill him. He could kill him, a killing curse to the face, a stunning spell to the chest-- and he would do it too-- Rasmus deserved it. But… but Rasmus deserved more than that.
It was much crueller to let one tortured soul live than to end its life.
So: "Apes Impetus," he snapped, and a short burst of light followed by the immediate swelling of the Stinging Hex appeared from the end of his wand. Another wave of his wand, a silently cast Stunning Spell, and then Ash stood back, panting heavily as his glare stayed fixed on the bloodied unconscious man slumped defeatedly in front of him.
And then he started home.
"But I suppose that part of you has died. Consider this the funeral." For a moment he paused, weighing his options in obvious aggravation. He could kill him. He could kill him, a killing curse to the face, a stunning spell to the chest-- and he would do it too-- Rasmus deserved it. But… but Rasmus deserved more than that.
It was much crueller to let one tortured soul live than to end its life.
So: "Apes Impetus," he snapped, and a short burst of light followed by the immediate swelling of the Stinging Hex appeared from the end of his wand. Another wave of his wand, a silently cast Stunning Spell, and then Ash stood back, panting heavily as his glare stayed fixed on the bloodied unconscious man slumped defeatedly in front of him.
And then he started home.
NOW
✸ DATE ✸ Early March - 2007
Reducio
And so we turn thus, casting woeful eyes on the man where he lay, a tune so sweet and rich in baritonal delight. Blood, filth, bumps, and bruises. Eyes swollen shut and life slipping away. A ghastly sight to behold, but a story just waiting to be told. In the gloom of night and the whisper of the wind, a woman approached from the orient in blissful unawares, a night well spent among friends. A chance, she stumbled upon the most beautiful voice she had ever heard, lulled and lured ever closer. A gasp escaped her, she ran to him and knelt, a gentle caress to his face. Death would be slow and without mercy, a passing she would wish on naught but her worst enemy, and when he saw her radiant face under the light of the moon, his life faded into a coma. She was Svana Evaldeen, his truest love.
In waking he found himself lying on a pillow so soft wrapped in sheets so warm, eyes drifting along the modesty of the abode. The woman, Svana, stood behind him and cleared her throat, his flinch slight but noticed as he turned and beheld her beauty for the second time in the span of days thrice. Her look mirrored his as they made the introductions, and they talked the hours away until moonlight faded. Their love was swift and true, the announcement of their engagement met with hesitant reservations at first, but joyful jubilation in the end. Marriage came within the year, a grand celebration. Only the closest of friends and family in attendance, a black and white affair. They were in love. So, so in love...
In waking he found himself lying on a pillow so soft wrapped in sheets so warm, eyes drifting along the modesty of the abode. The woman, Svana, stood behind him and cleared her throat, his flinch slight but noticed as he turned and beheld her beauty for the second time in the span of days thrice. Her look mirrored his as they made the introductions, and they talked the hours away until moonlight faded. Their love was swift and true, the announcement of their engagement met with hesitant reservations at first, but joyful jubilation in the end. Marriage came within the year, a grand celebration. Only the closest of friends and family in attendance, a black and white affair. They were in love. So, so in love...
✸ DATE ✸ Late December - 2007
Reducio
...and then that fateful message came. One eve while they prattled the time away, a perfumed letter flitted in as if guided by an unseen hand, landing on the man's lap. His wife watched with a smile, urging him to open it, but he stared at the stylish cursive that he knew all too well with a look of equal parts fear and longing. His wife playfully snatched the letter away from his frozen hands and opened it herself, her glee turning sour as she read the first words. "He has your eyes, My Love" The silence grew thick, thicker than cooling magma. She looked at him. He looked at her.
He explained everything, and she listened with understanding and rage warring for their place at centre stage. When he finished, they sat in silence as they both came to terms with what this would mean for their future. Rasmus would not shun his firstborn child, a boy he had left before birth but was now alone with only him in the world. There would not be a second leaving, and Svana could see this in her husband's eyes as clearly as she could see his eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes. The boy, Dorian, was to stay with them, but though she had protests and reasons why this should not be so, she loved her husband more than life itself, and he loved her, but his adamant resolve would not be questioned. Dorian was their child.
He explained everything, and she listened with understanding and rage warring for their place at centre stage. When he finished, they sat in silence as they both came to terms with what this would mean for their future. Rasmus would not shun his firstborn child, a boy he had left before birth but was now alone with only him in the world. There would not be a second leaving, and Svana could see this in her husband's eyes as clearly as she could see his eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes. The boy, Dorian, was to stay with them, but though she had protests and reasons why this should not be so, she loved her husband more than life itself, and he loved her, but his adamant resolve would not be questioned. Dorian was their child.
✸ DATE ✸ Early July - 2017
Reducio
The boy had grown to a ripe age of eleven years, the truth of his life a well-kept secret hidden behind cold stares and emotional neglect. His father loved him, spoiled him rotten even. Everything he wished for was but a whisper away, and nothing he did could ever be wrong in the man's eyes. He was a good boy who had not seen much tragedy in his short life, sheltered as he was. Sheltered superficially nonetheless. His exposure to Muggle culture and the ways of the common man had started at a very early age, a means by which to grant freedom to do as he pleased. The boy revelled in this freedom his father allowed.
But his mother was a different story. The glacial indifference with which she regarded him raised more questions than it gave answers, and the secret silence that his parents held left him not even the barest of scraps with which to pick at. It was always his belief as he grew that his mother simply hated him for something he had done without knowing, but the truth remained hidden behind barriers of silence and maternal abandon. His grandparents were the only redemption, them and his father. They loved him with everything they had, taught him everything they know, showed him what it was to be alive and young. And free.
Then the day came. The letter of acceptance that explained his coming of age. On this day, at that moment, he saw his mother give him the first, genuine smile she had ever spared him. He knew. He knew from then on that she was happy to finally be rid of him. He would no longer be there as a constant reminder to...something. Whatever he had done, he would be away from her and her husband. She would be free of this wretched cursed child.
But his mother was a different story. The glacial indifference with which she regarded him raised more questions than it gave answers, and the secret silence that his parents held left him not even the barest of scraps with which to pick at. It was always his belief as he grew that his mother simply hated him for something he had done without knowing, but the truth remained hidden behind barriers of silence and maternal abandon. His grandparents were the only redemption, them and his father. They loved him with everything they had, taught him everything they know, showed him what it was to be alive and young. And free.
Then the day came. The letter of acceptance that explained his coming of age. On this day, at that moment, he saw his mother give him the first, genuine smile she had ever spared him. He knew. He knew from then on that she was happy to finally be rid of him. He would no longer be there as a constant reminder to...something. Whatever he had done, he would be away from her and her husband. She would be free of this wretched cursed child.
HOGWARTS - HISTORY
1st YEAR
✸ DATE ✸ 2017 - 2018
Reducio
An entire year has come and gone, and Dorian finds himself changed for the better. He is still the 'unlearned brute' that most everyone has come to know him as, but there is something else underneath the harsh exterior that a few have managed to find either through much dedication and hard work, or with such graceful finesse that he hadn't even seen them coming. He had entered the school ready to be the absolute worst he could be while silently conducting his studies and passing all his classes with top marks, but somewhere along the line his initial plans altered slightly.
The Sorting Hat had placed him in a House he had never thought was befitting of him. Despite his own wish to be placed in Slytherin, the Hat had thought it best to place him into the Gryffindor House, and his outrage at being denied his wish had left him sour for the first few weeks. He barely spoke a word, barely made any effort to socialize, but then that all changed when he met her. His very first interaction with another student and it was with one Aubren Anson. Eavesdropping on a conversation not meant for his ears, he had followed her to the Common Room area where she was confronting a bully. Her resolve was strong, but he was physically stronger. This was where Dorian had stepped forward in a moment of heroics and helped her friends fend off the bully. Maybe the hat hadn't been so wrong after all.
Much happened after that. They became such fast friends that when he sat down and thought about it, the entire state of affairs seemed to meld together into one swift rerun that lasted for a few minutes. So much together, and the time had slipped ahead of them. His penchant for getting into trouble of one kind or another was a topic of much distress for her, and the figure that plagued her in the form of family drama was a topic of much distress for him. There was still so much that he did not know about her, but he was slowly learning. He was, is willing to learn.
Enter Max Avery, the boy he considers to be his best friend next to Aubren. They had met through her, and Dorian found himself intrigued and, if he was being honest, slightly ambivalent towards him. It wasn't uncertainty in the fact that he was questioning his loyalty or their friendship, but rather, he was uncertain of whether whatever trauma haunted him now would one day lead to his ruinous demise. He seemed to shoulder so much burden for one so young, the kind of burden that Dorian himself had never truly had to bear. Especially never alone. It is Dorian's wish to help relieve him of some of that burden and carry it for him. If only Max would open up more and trust him.
It was possibly the most vivid memory Dorian carried; the night atop the Astronomy Tower after he had sent that ridiculous letter to Max with threats. Words had gotten heated, revelations were made, and a fight that was never meant to happen had ensued. In all, Dorian had gotten burned while discovering just how dark Max's thoughts could be, and Max had gotten hurt by the strange Masked Figure that had been sighted going around the school and attacking students. At that moment, if no other, Dorian felt such a strong connection to the boy, one that he could not define. Nor did he need to. Max had achieved the same level of trust and friendship from Dorian as Aubren had, and it is a bond that will last for eternity.
Then came Eris Fawley, the strongest girl he had ever met in both will and physically. For someone so tiny, she seemed to be the topic of many fearful whispers all throughout the school. She was a Prefect but had lost the position for punching a Ravenclaw girl who had probably deserved it at the time. He first met her one afternoon when he had fallen asleep next to a fire in the Common Room. She had tried to shake him awake before Aubren came in and finished the deed with a pillow and much pent-up rage. They had all gotten down to talking, and then a game of Wizard's Chess had started the friendship.
The friendship grew even deeper as Max, her, and himself began their quest in search for immortality, something that they vowed to keep among themselves if found. It was a childish game, but a powerful secret covenant had been made that day, and whatever closeness they all felt had culminated since. The final and greatest moment of true friendship with her was one morning in the Hospital Wing when she visited him after learning of his injury sustained from a Hufflepuff Girl with anger issues. There is where they learned that they both shared hidden Ravenclaw traits, relishing the art of learning and the knowledge that can be gained through books. And then they had shared all that they could about their families. The ups and downs. Whatever shadow of a doubt he had up to that point simply faded into nothingness as it became a fact that she was someone he could trust, and it was such that Eris, Max, and Aubren became that inner circle of friendship tied with bonds that would never be broken.
Much more happened over the year, and so many people had been met along the way. Ami Procoppio, who was the first to give rise to his distaste for Hufflepuffs. She is violent and pushy, but something about her made him respect her on a much deeper level. She was down to earth and real in a way that not many people were. It also helped that she had brought him a long time supply of wizochocs. There was also Dakota Parker, his Baby Bird, a small boy whom he vowed to protect. He usually never allowed others to get as close as Dakota had without some resistance, but the boy had managed to slip so easily through the cracks and had since become someone he found himself able to have easy conversations and a fun time with.
There was also Anatole Evans, a timid little thing with a small voice but grand ambitions. Their first encounter was not the rosiest moment in history, but he quickly grew on him and they became friends pretty quickly. Anatole had even managed to become a Prefect in such a short time, and Dorian was proud of him, even though he never, and would never admit it. There were the teachers, the lessons, the magic, the adventures. The school had so much to offer in just one year that Dorian could hardly wait for the summer to come and go so he could return. Seemingly the biggest reveal for him over the year came at the very end when he learned that he had a sister! His father had been with someone else and he had gotten a sibling out of it, even though he had been kept out of the know for all these years. His mother wasn't his real mother. His real mother had been dead for years. The hate his adoptive mother had for him stemmed from what his father had done, and Dorian was starting to understand. And yet, he understood that no one was to blame.
Second Year promises to be chock full of just as much drama, adventure, highs and lows as First Year.
The Sorting Hat had placed him in a House he had never thought was befitting of him. Despite his own wish to be placed in Slytherin, the Hat had thought it best to place him into the Gryffindor House, and his outrage at being denied his wish had left him sour for the first few weeks. He barely spoke a word, barely made any effort to socialize, but then that all changed when he met her. His very first interaction with another student and it was with one Aubren Anson. Eavesdropping on a conversation not meant for his ears, he had followed her to the Common Room area where she was confronting a bully. Her resolve was strong, but he was physically stronger. This was where Dorian had stepped forward in a moment of heroics and helped her friends fend off the bully. Maybe the hat hadn't been so wrong after all.
Much happened after that. They became such fast friends that when he sat down and thought about it, the entire state of affairs seemed to meld together into one swift rerun that lasted for a few minutes. So much together, and the time had slipped ahead of them. His penchant for getting into trouble of one kind or another was a topic of much distress for her, and the figure that plagued her in the form of family drama was a topic of much distress for him. There was still so much that he did not know about her, but he was slowly learning. He was, is willing to learn.
✸
Enter Max Avery, the boy he considers to be his best friend next to Aubren. They had met through her, and Dorian found himself intrigued and, if he was being honest, slightly ambivalent towards him. It wasn't uncertainty in the fact that he was questioning his loyalty or their friendship, but rather, he was uncertain of whether whatever trauma haunted him now would one day lead to his ruinous demise. He seemed to shoulder so much burden for one so young, the kind of burden that Dorian himself had never truly had to bear. Especially never alone. It is Dorian's wish to help relieve him of some of that burden and carry it for him. If only Max would open up more and trust him.
It was possibly the most vivid memory Dorian carried; the night atop the Astronomy Tower after he had sent that ridiculous letter to Max with threats. Words had gotten heated, revelations were made, and a fight that was never meant to happen had ensued. In all, Dorian had gotten burned while discovering just how dark Max's thoughts could be, and Max had gotten hurt by the strange Masked Figure that had been sighted going around the school and attacking students. At that moment, if no other, Dorian felt such a strong connection to the boy, one that he could not define. Nor did he need to. Max had achieved the same level of trust and friendship from Dorian as Aubren had, and it is a bond that will last for eternity.
✸
Then came Eris Fawley, the strongest girl he had ever met in both will and physically. For someone so tiny, she seemed to be the topic of many fearful whispers all throughout the school. She was a Prefect but had lost the position for punching a Ravenclaw girl who had probably deserved it at the time. He first met her one afternoon when he had fallen asleep next to a fire in the Common Room. She had tried to shake him awake before Aubren came in and finished the deed with a pillow and much pent-up rage. They had all gotten down to talking, and then a game of Wizard's Chess had started the friendship.
The friendship grew even deeper as Max, her, and himself began their quest in search for immortality, something that they vowed to keep among themselves if found. It was a childish game, but a powerful secret covenant had been made that day, and whatever closeness they all felt had culminated since. The final and greatest moment of true friendship with her was one morning in the Hospital Wing when she visited him after learning of his injury sustained from a Hufflepuff Girl with anger issues. There is where they learned that they both shared hidden Ravenclaw traits, relishing the art of learning and the knowledge that can be gained through books. And then they had shared all that they could about their families. The ups and downs. Whatever shadow of a doubt he had up to that point simply faded into nothingness as it became a fact that she was someone he could trust, and it was such that Eris, Max, and Aubren became that inner circle of friendship tied with bonds that would never be broken.
✸
Much more happened over the year, and so many people had been met along the way. Ami Procoppio, who was the first to give rise to his distaste for Hufflepuffs. She is violent and pushy, but something about her made him respect her on a much deeper level. She was down to earth and real in a way that not many people were. It also helped that she had brought him a long time supply of wizochocs. There was also Dakota Parker, his Baby Bird, a small boy whom he vowed to protect. He usually never allowed others to get as close as Dakota had without some resistance, but the boy had managed to slip so easily through the cracks and had since become someone he found himself able to have easy conversations and a fun time with.
There was also Anatole Evans, a timid little thing with a small voice but grand ambitions. Their first encounter was not the rosiest moment in history, but he quickly grew on him and they became friends pretty quickly. Anatole had even managed to become a Prefect in such a short time, and Dorian was proud of him, even though he never, and would never admit it. There were the teachers, the lessons, the magic, the adventures. The school had so much to offer in just one year that Dorian could hardly wait for the summer to come and go so he could return. Seemingly the biggest reveal for him over the year came at the very end when he learned that he had a sister! His father had been with someone else and he had gotten a sibling out of it, even though he had been kept out of the know for all these years. His mother wasn't his real mother. His real mother had been dead for years. The hate his adoptive mother had for him stemmed from what his father had done, and Dorian was starting to understand. And yet, he understood that no one was to blame.
Second Year promises to be chock full of just as much drama, adventure, highs and lows as First Year.
2nd YEAR
3rd YEAR
4th YEAR
5th YEAR
6th YEAR
7th YEAR
TRIVIA
✸ Languages ✸ Dorian is a hyperpolyglot. He is currently learning Dutch, Chinese, Greek and Irish. He has mastered Japanese, Latin, Korean, Spanish, Hebrew, Portuguese, Italian, and French. His Bulgarian has improved immensely. Will attempt Mermish, Gaelic, Rune, Gobbledegook, and Parseltongue.
✸ Studies ✸ He has extensive training in Muggle duelling, having taken many different classes by which to 'toughen up'. He is also quite adept at Muggle lore and all things Muggle, having grown up casually around them rather than in seclusion.
✸ Issues ✸ He has big-time mommy issues. She is usually a sore topic for him and it is advised not to broach it. For your own safety of course.
✸ Goals ✸ Dorian wishes to follow in his Maternal Grandmother's footsteps in becoming a renowned Animagus.
Last edited by Dorian Gray on 31 Jul 2018, 23:35, edited 31 times in total.
✧Improvidus, Apto quod Victum✧
Stam: 3, Agi: 3, Str: 4, Con: 7, Arc: 7, Acc: 6
✸ Dorian Gray ✸ Second-Year ✸ Gryffindor ✸
RPG
✧ONGOING✧
✸ Ask and Receive ✸
✸ Cuts and Burns ✸
✸ The Dormitory of Godric Gryffindor ✸
✸ [DADA] MENTORING 2017-18 ✸
✸ Praeteritum ad Praesens ✸
✦COMPLETED✦
✸ The Sorting Ceremony ✸
✸ Silence, Interrupted ✸
✸ The Lion's Roar ✸
✸ The Lion's Pride ✸
✸ The Calm After The Storm ✸
✸ After Class Hours ✸
✸ Avery Shade of Gray ✸
✸ Crimson and Conflict ✸
✸ Rictusempra Tag ✸
✸ Shooting Stars ✸
✸ I Need My Notes Back, Thanks ✸
✸ Baby, I'm Sorry (Not Sorry) ✸
✸ The Lion's Vengeance ✸
✸ The Question ✸
✸ Important Investigations ✸
✸ Mors Innocentiae ✸
✸ Burn The Witch! ✸
✸ Praeteritus ad Praeteritum ✸
✵ABANDONED✵
✸ Breaking The Silence ✸
✸ Veni, Vidi, Vici ✸
✸ Roar of the Lions - House Cup Party ✸
✸ Red, Green & Gray ✸
✸ A Historical Debut ✸
✸ House of the Inferius ✸
DUEL
✸ ✦Hills vs. Gray✦ ✸ Draw
ADVENTURE
✸ ✵Great Maze -VVG✵ ✸
✸ ✧Lock-In✧ ✸
DETENTION
✸ ✦Window Cleaning✦ ✸
STORY
✸ ✦W.I.T.C.H✦ ✸
Last edited by Dorian Gray on 25 Jul 2018, 18:06, edited 26 times in total.
✧Improvidus, Apto quod Victum✧
Stam: 3, Agi: 3, Str: 4, Con: 7, Arc: 7, Acc: 6
✸ Dorian Gray ✸ Second-Year ✸ Gryffindor ✸
RELATIONS
FAMILY
MATERNAL
✸ Svana Gray nee Evaldeen ✸ ~Mother~ - Dorian's life's goal is to see her smile a genuine smile at something he did. The boy's greedy ambition was instilled and tempered by her.
✸ Quentin Evaldeen ✸ ~Grandfather~ - Dorian's love of magical history has blossomed from Quentin's many lessons. Does not condone his daughter's unnecessary mistreatment of the boy.
✸ Philomena Evaldeen ✸ ~Grandmother~ - Dorian is fascinated by her status as an Eagle Animagus. He intends to follow in her footsteps and has learned all the theory on the subject.
✸ Aunts/Uncles/Cousins ✸ - Dorian's relationship with the rest of his mother's very extended family is fragmented at best. The Aunts and Uncles are particularly cold and his cousins hate him. Feelings are mutual.
TRUE MATERNAL
✸ Nia Feld ✸ ~True Mother~ - Dorian only recently learned the truth behind his family's history, and once he learned of her an overwhelming feeling of longing washed over him, and he experienced a newfound determination to succeed at life.
PATERNAL
✸ Rasmus Gray ✸ ~Father~ - He and Dorian mutually adore each other. He spoils the boy rotten and has contributed to his "what I say goes" behavior.
✸ Irina Gray ✸ ~Grandmother~ - Dorian makes every attempt to see her as often as he can. She has a warmth about her and is the strongest maternal figure in his life.
✸ Celynne Flores ✸ ~Sister~ - Dorian adores and is overly protective of her. He doesn't admit it out loud, but he believes that she's smarter than him. She is the reason his Latin has improved so much, as she has been teaching him to better utilize the language over the summer.
FRIENDS
INNER CIRCLE
✸ Aubren Anson ✸ - She's quite the character. She's probably the absolute most brilliant person I've ever met, aside from me of course. She isn't too loud or annoying or violent or loud, which means she's the complete opposite of me. Yes I know I said loud twice~ She is very bossy though. The worst actually. But I suppose I can handle it. Hopefully...
✸ Max Avery ✸ - He has somehow managed to savage his way into my life, stemming from one of my pranks gone terribly wrong. I still don't know for certain what he thinks of me, but for a reason I can't understand I want to become worthy of his friendship so that one day he'll consider me a true friend and let his guard down around me.
✸ Eris Fawley ✸ - She's me if I was a girl! I've never seen myself so much in another person as I do her. We became friends easily, though I still have no idea what she really thinks of me. Like Max and Aubren, I hope we can be the best of friends too.
OUTER CIRCLE
ENEMIES
✸ Ami Procoppio ✸ - I don't exactly hate her per se, but I dislike her very much. Something about her rubs me the wrong way, and though I thank her for the books and sweets, I'll probably never forgive her for breaking my leg. It was a cheap shot while my back was turned by the way. Low blow dude!
Last edited by Dorian Gray on 11 Jul 2018, 07:55, edited 19 times in total.
✧Improvidus, Apto quod Victum✧
Stam: 3, Agi: 3, Str: 4, Con: 7, Arc: 7, Acc: 6