Record Store Employee
March 14th, 2004
Lives in
London, UK
Significant other
No Information

Last Active: Apr 25 2018, 11:31 AM
Party on, Wayne! Party on, Darth!

Right... where do I start? Name's Andy, I was born on the 14th of March at the University Hospital, in Galway. I've been told it was raining that day, but let's be real, you could have guessed that yourself, this is Ireland we're talking about. A day without a drop of rain is kind of a miracle.
I lived in Connemara for the first six years of my life, until my parents divorced. ...I never really knew why they did, I guess they just wanted different things in life. Anyway, my dad got the dog and my mum got my brother and me. All three of us moved to London, which is where my mother's from originally, and she pursued a career in the Ministry of Magic there.

2. MUM
As I just mentioned, my mother was born in England. She had lived there her whole life. Before meeting my dad, she worked for Gringotts, in the administration. One day, she had to go to Ireland for her job, and she met my dad, they fell madly in love, got married, blah blah blah. You know the drill. She moved there to live with him, smack dab in the middle of nowhere, where there's nothing but sheep and turf. It must've been a hell of a change from busy London. Together they had two boys : my brother, who's four years older than me, and, well, me. When my folks separated, she got custody because she's a witch and my dad's a muggle so it makes more sense for magical kids to be with their magical parent, the one who actually knows how it all works. She got a new job at the Ministry there and she's been climbing the ladder ever since.
She's pretty much the only person to call me Andrew. She's the one who chose that name. Raising us, she was sort of strict. Not strict-strict, you know, but enough to be rigid about our candy intake and to have us always call her to let her know of our whereabouts, and diligently make us study. Which I suppose is normal parenting behaviour, but compared to our dad who was much more lenient, it did feel more severe.

3. DAD
My old man is like the nicest chap you could ever meet. He's a big softie. We got to see him on the holidays and weekends. The Floo Network really made it easy to travel back and forth between countries, so the distance was never a problem. He's lived in Connemara his whole life and he'll probably stay there 'til the day he dies. His ancestors are buried there.
He owns a big land with an organic farm there, so we had all the space to run and go on adventures. He was also very cool with what we could do. Like, he let us eat whatever shit we wanted, which often resulted in us puking our guts out before the end of the day, and go wherever we felt like. Aside from one fucked up Halloween (I'll talk about that later), we generally had a great time there.
A couple of years after the divorce, he got married to a woman ten years younger. I'm not complaining, though. She's super sweet and they're perfect for each other. She's sort of a hippie, she's really into the environment and natural healing and all that stuff. She makes us eat fancy, elaborate porridge and chia pudding for breakfast.
They had a daughter soon after, who's now fourteen. I didn't get to see her that often back when I was in Hogwarts but we grew pretty close nevertheless. She's a smart kid. A bit too clever for her own good, even. I've got another sister, who just turned five, and she's completely hyper. They had me cast spells on the house and furniture because she's always climbing on things and accidentally breaking or spilling whatever she can get her tiny hands on.
Now that I've got a job, I can see them whenever I have a day off, which is awesome.

He's a dick.
...Oh, you want me to elaborate? I don't like talking about him that much because he's become such an asshole. He's very ambitious, which is fine, and he gets that from our mother, but he has some fucked up ideas about the world. I know he's been really interested in the Purium, recently. I don't know where the hell he got that from, I think he started hanging out with the wrong crowd when he was in Hogwarts and it all went downhill from there. He gives my dad's family a pass, but other than that, he doesn't hold muggles in high regard. We've tried to reason with him, and it makes mum sad, but he doesn't listen. I just hope he'll get this shit out of his head soon, because eventually that'll come to bite him in the ass. If he could get off his stupid high horse, that'd be great.

Nah, don't actually. I don't want to use it as an excuse all the time, that's bullshit.
But basically I was really distracted as a young kid in school, so much that it became a problem. Teachers kept yelling at me for not listening in class and not following instructions. They thought I was doing it on purpose just to piss them off, but really I was doing my best. This went on for years, I had a hard time making friends and my grades in primary school kept getting worse. They knew it wasn't simply because I was dumb, so when I was 8 I finally went to the doctor's and they diagnosed me with ADD. They gave me the magical equivalent of Ritalin, which is a lot more efficient and reliable, so unless I forget to take my meds, it doesn't affect me too much anymore. Don't get me wrong, it can get get reaaally annoying when people are talking to me and they think I don't give a shit because it seems like I don't listen, or when I just want to do something, but I can't because there are too many tabs open in my head and it feels like Internet Explorer in there. But other than that, I'm doing okay, I think. Everyone has problems.

Speaking of problems, there's another one that's on a whole other level. If asked I don't deny it, but I don't shout it to everyone I come across. Some people get the wrong idea or can be downright intolerant. Some ask idiotic questions or assume things. No, I don't eat a pound of raw steak for breakfast, no, I don't steal babies in cradles in my sleep, no, I have never fought over a girl with a handsome vampire then fell in love with their baby. Why do these things keep coming up? What the fuck?
When I was ten, I went trick-or-treating with my brother and our Irish pals in the village near the farm. We were all having fun, amassing candy and thinking we were scary with our disguises made by our parents out of kitchen ustensils and spare cloth. But then I assume I must've gotten distracted by a bug in the dirt again because at some point I looked up and I was all alone in the alley. I remember being annoyed that they all had kept walking without waiting for me. Then I heard a weird growl, like an animal, and I turned around and –this is gonna be gross– I shat myself. Like right there. There was this scary-ass wolf snarling at me and before I could run, it pounced on me and knocked me to the ground. It all went dark and when I opened my eyes I was lying in my bed with my stepmom and dad holding my hands and crying. Apparently my friends had retraced their steps when they noticed I was missing and when they found me, I was down on the ground, bloody and unconscious, as if a wild animal had attacked me. But they never saw what it was. They called an adult and took me to the nearest open clinic, but they couldn't really do anything for me except clean my wounds and bandage them. My dad could tell something was up. After years of living with a witch, he could guess when something was related to magic or the supernatural. So he insisted on bringing me home, in case anything weird happened and he wouldn't know how to explain it to the doctors and nurses.
Everything hurt. When I woke up I was in so much pain that I asked my parents if all my bones had been broken. They hadn't, but it really felt like it. I had bruises and scratches all over my limbs and face, and a huge bite mark near my wrist. I'm just glad it didn't decide to tear my face off.
I found out soon enough that what had attacked me was no ordinary wolf. It still blows my mind how fucking cliché this is. Getting bitten by a werewolf on Halloween night. The Universe just loves its irony, doesn't it?
Of course, I had to find out the hard way. A few weeks later, when I was back in London. Good thing my mum was already suspicious and has quick reflexes or Merlin knows what I could've done to her and my brother. It's still scary to think of, even today.
The morning after, the first thing we did was go to St. Mungo's. Unfortunately there's still no definite cure, so they prescribed Wolfsbane Potion, which makes it more manageable. Missing a dose happened a few times, and it has really bad consequences to put it lightly, which has made me paranoid about forgetting it now. Hasn't happened in a long time, though, so that's good.

On my first day at Hogwarts, I got sorted into Ravenclaw. I was sorta relieved not to be in the same house as my brother because his friends seemed kinda mean. Like, he'd come home for the holidays and be telling things his friends said or did, and to me they just sounded like jackasses. Worst thing is he actually admired them.
I'm not gonna lie, the first year was rough. I'd been infected with lycanthropy the year before and I was still having a really hard time dealing and accepting it. I was scared that if anyone found out they would automatically hate me and think I was a monster and be afraid or tell the whole school. Because of that I was super shy and reserved. Some thought I was a freak because I either didn't talk at all or, if the subject was interesting, couldn't shut the hell up.
Luckily I managed to make a few good friends. You might think this is a nerdy thing to do, but I gotta say, walking around with my sci-fi books in hand or placing Star Wars stickers on my notebooks really helped when it came to making friends who shared the same interests. One day, I built up the courage to tell them about my condition. They were getting curious as to why I was disappearing and acting weird every month and were making up crazy theories, so I figured I might as well come clean. And I was right to trust them, because they didn't reject me. In fact, they suddenly thought I was cool as fuck. I did have to endure a ton of questions from them but it was pretty funny to sometimes reply with completely false facts just to see if they'd believe me.
The following years got easier as I learned to live with my the fact that I wasn't a regular human being (I mean, I'm a werewolf). Don't get me wrong, not everyone who knew about it was as nice as my friends. And yeah, sometimes it really hurt, but I realised that people who'll judge me based on that aren't worth my time or consideration. Because fuck them, y'know.
I had a solid group of friends and my grades got really good. And I mean, REALLY good. I was really bad at studying because I can never focus and get bored super easily, and I've got other shit to do than sit at my desk and read the same boring page over and over again. But somehow I aced my tests on almost every subject (okay, I did get a T in Divination and I barely passed Herbology) while doing the bare minimum. It was a love/hate relationship with my professors because I paid zero attention in class and answered with sarcasm or cracked a joke whenever they asked me a question or scolded me, but they couldn't be totally mad at me because when my tests and papers came out great (so what if I almost burned down a greenhouse? My patronus was pretty!).
I was on the quidditch team as a chaser for a year but it got boring so I quit. I just wasn't as interested in it anymore. I still have some good memories there, though.

My professors thought I'd go into magical law or arithmancy or at least business, something smart, y'know. But I couldn't see myself in any of these subjects and careers, so I picked magical history as a major and astronomy as a minor. It surprised a lot of people and I think I disappointed some of them by choosing that path. Not that it matters. History had always been one of my favourite subjects, so I thought that, since I didn't really know what to study, I might as well choose something that wouldn't bore me to tears.
I had a pretty standard university experience, not much to say about it. I studied, more than I did at Hogwarts, partied a bit, hung out with friends, went to live shows and festivals, got pissed and high more times than I could ever remember. It was a fun time.
But as you may know, a degree in History of Magic is useless, unless you want to teach. Which I had no interest in.

So I kept the same job that I had a student. I've been working full-time at this record store in London for around a year now. It's pretty small, and it's just off Mirage Avenue. The job mostly consists of organising the crates, keeping everything neat and listening to music all day. I love it. Listening to music is the one of the rare things I can do for hours on end without getting bored. That and reading sci-fi or watching old movies. My favourites are the dumb, ridiculous horror movies with brainless characters, just 'cause they're unintentionally hilarious. And Star Wars or anything involving space, honestly.
For the time being, I'm content with just living day-to-day, doing my thing. And the new laws and programs make it easier to live as werewolf, even if it's still difficult some days. But hey, what can you do?
But yeah, I'm just curious to see where life takes me.
ANDREW WHELAN has a total of 1 badges

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