Halfblood Wizard

October 27th
Lives in
Significant other
Luka Hunter.

Last Active: Apr 22 2018, 02:56 PM
Everything that shine ain't always gotta be gold.

i. twitchy, witchy girl

As it happens with many children, Asher Stone was both the first born child and an unplanned one. He was, delicately put, an accident.

His parents couldn’t have been more different if they’d been forged from ivory and onyx. Where his mother was smooth words and honeyed music, his father was sharp tones and unpredictable nimbus clouds of dark magic. Some days were very good, others were very bad.

In hindsight, Asher could see why they were attracted to one another. Or at least, what drew his father in like a slow-circling moth destined for death.

As a child, Ash learned to read people. He learned to note the pauses between sentences, the elevation of volume, the way their hands shook, and even what those furtive looks meant when they thought he wasn’t looking.

He had a way about him that upset his father and Ash learned to disguise that inscrutable thing early on. He’d learned to blend in the moment he could toddle about on his own feet. With time, he taught himself to become anyone and everyone. More often than not, he was seen and not heard – which was good because that’s how his father liked it. He only spoke when spoken to and often, he just didn’t speak at all.

It was a wonder he developed speech with so little practice, but when the time came, Ash eventually didn’t stop talking.

ii. black is traditional

Eleven was both a terrible and momentous year for Ash.

Once upon a sultry summer night, he received his letter. A letter that promised him a refuge with boys like him or girls his age that could make magic on purpose. It was a dizzying prospect. With the parchment crinkled in his hand, he’d flown down the steps, absolutely elated.

Of course, it was very late and truth be told, he wasn’t supposed to run in the house but that didn’t stop him. He was a blur of dark, wild hair and flushed cheeks. He came upon his mother dozing in her chair with a book open on her swelling belly. She started a little and woke with a sleepy smile.

His father merely swirled the ice in his glass with a look chilly as the drink he held.

The news was met in a way Ash would have expected. His mother was ecstatic. His father merely curved an imperious brow in his direction and scolded him for being up past the hour he’d promised to be asleep.
Teeming with barely bridled excitement, Asher spun on his toes promptly to start back up the staircase with an apology on his tongue. But it was the secret smile his mother gave him that very nearly helped him float right back up.

Letter clutched in one hand, Ash climbed into bed that night with a wildly-fluttering heart. Though his eyes were clenched far too hard and he could hardly pretend to not hear his parents quarreling just a floor below, he eventually fell asleep.

iii. the proudest spirit can be broken

None can say for sure how it happened. It was practically unheard of in modern magical medicine. But just as the Fates can giveth, they taketh away.

Ash didn’t sleep long the night he received his letter. He was woken from lingering dreams of potions and charms by the sounds of Mediwitches shouting things to one another just down the hall.

His mum had gone into labor early. She’d only just started her last trimester, he’d remembered marking it on the calendar for her just a few days before.

But it was no matter – his little sister wouldn’t wait.

Poppy came home from St. Mungo’s three days later.

His mother did not.

iv. so sharp, won’t feel a thing

To the surprise of perhaps no one, the life of a single father did not agree with Mr. Stone.

Wailing children did not sit well with Ministry men, really. Nor did young boys with mercurial tempers. Ash could not decide who he wanted to be at any given time. One day he was red, angry and volatile because he was stuck with a man who had no inclination to father him. Other days he was somber blue and stewing in memories and photos of the mother gone too soon. And still, other days, he was orange. Uncertain and agitated about a future he only dreamt of.

Instead of attempting to reel a woman in with the promise and inborn-pity of a widower, Mr. Stone simply did what any spineless, narcissist might do. Asher and Poppy were deposited at their gran’s one day and never retrieved again.

But that was for the best, really. Poppy got the childhood that Asher had only ever dreamt of. There was still enough sunshine left over for him, however. Enough that the jagged glass of his childhood came to dull points. Enough that he might learn to be hugged without flinching. Enough to be a wonderful conundrum of a boy.

As the business of unsurprising surprises tends to go, Asher was sorted into Slytherin. Resourceful and ambitious, he waited on no one. If he was not in the library devouring books by candlelight, he was taking extra classes so that he might be in the running for Head Boy once that time came.

He found his passion in Magizoology. However, Asher was a contradictory sort and while his ambitions were to positively influence magical creature welfare law, he sort of ended up on the wrong side of that tricky business.


Who knew that fighting the good fight would lead to such a long, detailed file with the Aurors?

And the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.

And the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

Oh well, Ash knew better than most – to get anything done, sometimes one had to get their hands a little dirty.

v. tall, handsome beast

The present day finds Asher in a very precarious position. He’s beloved amongst the grayer spectrum of moral soundness. Something of an enterprising, up and coming name, Asher has a very natural talent with wild, ferocious beasties of all varieties. Its what he’s known for.

Whenever a problem of the creature kind poses itself, he’s the first summoned.

That also presents a kind of problem in way of the law but that’s neither here nor there.

As adept at ever at wielding his silver (forked, some say) tongue, he’s talked himself out of many situations and into many a bed. A rare talent he is.
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