Name: Harvey Trent Downes
Bloodline: Muggle-born
Physical Appearance: Harvey is, in the eyes of the average Hogwart’s student, of above average looks. His build is rather tall, though still well-proportioned, with a musculature that somehow manages to be toned through incessant reading. The young man has a healthy complexion, not bothered by acne (except during that hormonally-troublesome fourth year) or other blemish. His hair is dark brown, often described as chestnut or auburn, and cut at around average length. Harvey’s pine green eyes shine from behind a pair of glasses; long-lashed and gleaming with awareness, they seem to take intricate note of every detail they can see. On a scale of one to ten, one being vomit-inducing, five being average and ten being 'total Hogwarts heart-throb', he is around a seven, maybe an eight. Harvey’s untidy hair and skewed glasses contribute to his ‘disheveled librarian’ demeanor.

Personality: To the vast majority of his peers, Harvey is a closed book with his nose in the pages of an open one. Harvey has, due to the fact that he prioritizes scholarly pursuits over the social forays of his compatriots, acquired an introverted reputation that stands in stark contrast to his warm, relaxed personality. Most students view Harvey as a quiet bookworm when, in reality, he has a seldom-seen wild side full of broad grins and unrequited laughter. If given the choice, Harvey would prefer a few close relationships to many fair-weather friends. This young man is a fiercely loyal individual, instinctually kind and incredibly independent. Despite these endearing qualities, Harvey is by no means a social butterfly – with his time most often spent within the bowels of the library, Harvey rarely reacts with students outside the classroom, in the hallways or on the Quidditch pitch.

Academics: Harvey has never found a subject he didn’t excel at – it’s an honest truth and the main cause of the distance he usually encounters between himself and his peers. In class, Harvey’s hand is usually one of the first to be raised to answer a question and (forty-seven out of fifty-one times) his response is correct. It’s not to say that Harvey is academically unflappable, but the boy is clearly talented and always strives to receive top marks.

Character’s History: Harvey was born and raised in the city of Manchester in the county of Greater Manchester, England; the son of two loving parents, Genevieve J. Darling and Richard M. Downs, both of whom were Muggles. His familial environment was of the nurturing and loving sort, not entirely undisciplined but not at all rigid. Harvey grew up in the middle of a thriving city, quite in tune with the trend of technology; as a matter of fact, the discovery that his i-Pod didn't function on school grounds was a small tragedy to a boy of eleven years.

Harvey grew up surrounded by books and, with a librarian for a mother and a Manchester University professor for a father, his parents ensured that familiarity blossomed into total fascination.

Harvey had been showing signs of magical ability throughout his late childhood, the first notable instance being some time before his eighth birthday – when the words on every newspaper within the family’s small city apartment randomly reorganized into nonsensical phrases and fractured syntax, Harvey’s parents agreed that it must have been the work of a faulty printer. Such random coincidences continued sporadically up until Harvey’s enrollment into Hogwarts School; physics seemed to have no authority within the Downes household, water would drip from the leaky faucet and form a shallow pool on the ceiling, fires would burn cherry-red, gold or green – and all of these strange happenings went largely unnoticed by Harvey’s notoriously scatter-brained parents.

Wand: Ollivander: Vine wood and Unicorn Hair, 11¾ inches, relatively flexible. The wand itself is an auburn color with a smooth texture and well-polished appearance. When waved the wand flows through the air like any graceful and elegant instrument but its dark hue and straight shape give it an undeniably durable and vaguely masculine appearance, it doesn't looks like it's about to snap in half if you drop it.

Patronus: Otter.

Special Request: Top of the class?

Desired House: Gryffindor or Ravenclaw (in order of preference).

RP Sample

Harvey was busy reading a new chapter of The Great Gatsby, under a bit of discrete supervision from his mother (some of her son’s literary projects weren’t exactly age appropriate), when a sharp tapping came from the other room. His mother, having developed an experience with the rather troublesome method of letters by owl, looked up from the sink (she was washing up after a quick breakfast) and walked into the living room of their fourth story flat and wasn’t surprised to see a screech owl tapping its beak against the windowpane. She bent down to undo the latch and pulled up the window; by this time the owl had already dropped the letter on the window sill and propelled itself out into the thin air. Genevieve grabbed the letter and closed, fastened and shuttered the windows.

She wandered over to a chair and sat down, an excited Harvey in tow. And, just as she was about to break the seal, the letter gave a violent twitch and jerked out of her hands; contorting in mid-air to take the shape of a vaguely human face, reminiscent of origami, the seal (of purple wax with an M stamped in the center) looked to be lipstick. The face itself looked rather pinched and elongated and then, to the surprise of both Harvey and his mother, it began to speak.

“Mr. Downs, the Ministry would like to congratulate you as to your acceptance into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” Said, or well, recited the letter in the voice of a busy-sounding woman. “We here at the Ministry take the safety and security of our constituents very seriously and, because recent regulations have deemed it appropriate, a representative of the Department of Education will be accompanying you on your trip to Diagon Alley where you will be picking up supplies for your first year at Hogwarts School. You will be received on Friday, August 27th promptly upon nine o’clock in the morning.” On hearing this Genevieve looked over to the clock. It was Friday, August 27th, one minute until nine. “Thank you for your time, Martha Hogwash.”

Just as the regal sounding envelope refolded itself and began a graceful tumble to the floor, just as the clock struck nine, emerald flames roared up in the hearth of the fireplace. Harvey had just enough time to mutter ‘whoa’ beneath his breath before a man in a lop-sided but none the less pointed hat ceased spinning like a top and stepped out of the fireplace. His mother reached up to her forehead, discretely assuring that she still had eyebrows, before looking at the robed and genuinely out of place wizard. She arched one of her thankfully intact eyebrows and stood, dusting some of the scattered soot off of her apron.

“Well, I take it you’re here to pick up my son?” She asked, a touch of a frown pulling at her lips. The frown of course vanished when she noticed that the man was busy inspecting her treasured assortment of miniature Santa Claus figurines; since she was a little girl her father had sent one every Christmas. She looked over to Harvey and motioned for him to run down the hallway and get out of his pajamas. He stopped staring and ran into his room, pulled two hangers out of the closet and got busy getting dressed.

A few moments later he emerged from the hallway in a pair of jeans and a shirt, his trainers laced. The wizard was busy answering his mother’s questions about times and places between picking up a figurine with his long-fingered hands and muttering ‘absolutely marvelous’ or ‘wonderful, wonderful’ or some combination of the two. He soon spotted Harvey; the boy was standing next to the fireplace, an eager smile already glued to his face. He seemed to be an appropriate balance of excited and nervous.

“Well, ready and rearing.” Said the wizard and he leaned down to look Harvey full on in the eyes.

“Are you going to do that thing with the fire again?” He asked, smiling as ever.

“Well, yes, eventually.” The man replied. “That is what I meant to talk to you about. It’s a rather tricky business, Floo Powder.”

“Mhmm.” Harvey said with a nod, he seemed to be listening and comprehending just fine so the wizard continued.

“Well, it’s important that you stand very still and tuck your elbows in against your chest and say what you mean to very clearly. Or you could wind up someplace else entirely!”

“Well, that sounds rather dangerous, sir.” Interjected Harvey’s mother, eying the fireplace skeptically.

“Well it’s perfectly safe if you do it properly.” He said offhandedly. “Now, you first boy. Diagon Alley is where we need to be going so say that loud and clear.” He watched Harvey step into the fireplace, tuck in his elbows, close his eyes and repeat ‘Diagon Alley’. Then open one eyes to see if he was in some magical land elsewhere. He wasn’t.

“Hrm, how odd-“ Started the wizard before blinking. “Oh yes! Floo powder, that’s right, that’s right.” He set about rummaging about his pockets before scooping a pile of green sand-like powder from a pocket that seemed to be brimming with the stuff. “Now, go ahead and toss it into the fire – once you’re inside, mind you as you say where you’re going” He dumped the powder into Harvey’s hand and took a step back.

“Diagon Alley.” Harvey repeated as he tossed down the fire and he vanished with a roar of green fire and a startled gasp from his mother.

Harvey seemed to be falling, or at least it felt that way. He also noticed he was spinning and, before he remembered to tuck his arms in, his elbow jarred against a brick wall. He realized he was falling down what seemed to be a tube of chimneys. He looked to the side and the walls varied from slate to granite to brick and even to mud before his very eyes. Each time he swore he could glimpse out of one of the fireplaces but was hurtling by too fast to get a proper look. Finally he felt himself begin to slow, his rotations decreased in number and he stepped out of a random marble fireplace. On the side of a wide-set and bustling street.

Men and women clad in robes of various make and fashion, hats of differing style and ridiculousness, were carousing what he assumed to be Diagon Alley. The shops were also a varying range of decors and heights, some taller than others and some that were just small stone buildings the size of a trailer, with a door to get in and out through and one window, a sign and taller buildings on either side. Harvey took it to be a rather marvelous sort of ‘organized chaos’. He liked it but at the same time felt dwarfed by all the people, shops and various taller and crooked buildings of three or four stories. Down at the end of the street a building stood, dividing the Alley into two smaller streets that veered off in random diagonal directions. It looked to be made of marble and was the tallest, grandest building of them all; supported by lop-sided white columns.

The sound of a fire behind him startled Harvey out of his silent, awed contemplation of strange people, tilted store signs and wizards and witches heralding the unequivocal quality of their goods. He turned around and wasn’t surprised to see the same wizard from before, readjusting his hat and drawing up beside Harvey with a slight grin.

“Well, welcome to Diagon Alley. Let’s see if we can get you some money, yeh?” He asked rhetorically before stepping away from the row of four oddly-placed fireplaces and down towards the large white building.

“And where do we do that?” Harvey asked as he struggled to keep up with the long-legged and rather absentminded wizard.

“Gringotts, of course; if you’ve got storage that needs storing there is no better place.”

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