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Help me write a new character?



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  #1  
Old May 10th, 2006, 2:33 pm
criostoir  Male.gif criostoir is offline
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Help me write a new character?

I've had an idea for a new HP character for some time. Since the series is nearing an end, and it seems that no one new is going to be introduced, I have given up hope of seeing him in print. I thought about trying to revamp him outside of the HP world, but I can't seem to envision him anywhere else. Sooooo, I'm going to post his profile and, with your kind help, I would like to write his story here. Some of the particulars of his story (like his name) are negotiable.

Name: Criostoir (Gaelic for Christopher, pronounced "Kree-stur") Donnachiadh (pronounced "Don-a-hee")

Family: Born in the outer isles of Scotland to very Calvinistic, Muggle parents. (Think Puritan. It takes a long time for changes to reach off is the mainland.) #2 of five children (one older brother, three younger sisters). Father is a minister. Although the family is loving, they have 17th c. views of most everything, including magic (IE. of the devil).

Early History: Grew up quite happy, although baffled by the strange events that seemed to happen to him. Had a unique talent for music and could sing younger siblings to sleep or affect people's moods with his songs. Was cantor/precentor (like a worship leader) from a young age. The most odd occurence was when the family didn't have enough money for milk for the children. For three weeks, the bottle stayed full. They attributed it to a miracle.

At 11, he got a letter from Hogwarts. This caused a huge rift in the family. Biblically, he should have been stoned or burned (Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live), but his parents didn't have the heart to do it. Instead, they disowned him and sent him to Hogwarts. He was devastated, but had nowhere else to go. He began to both love and hate his abilities. Fortunately, he is able to make quite a bit of money singing at the school. Students would hire him to go sing a love song to a crush, or a break-up song, etc. During the Summer he made quite a bit busking as well.

Hogwarts Years: I imagine him as a contemporary of the Weasly parents, at least pre-dating the James/Sirius/Lupin years. I also imagine him as part of Ravenclaw, although perhaps Hufflepuff instead. After beginning his years at Hogwarts, he quickly hatches a dream, a purpose for his life. He wants to make reconciliation between muggles and magic people possible (motivated by a desire to reunite with his family). To that end, he recruits two other students and petitions Dumbledore for permission to do a kind of "special study". Dumbledore agrees for his own reasons (because he knows the revelation of the magical community might be necessary if Voldemort cannot be stopped.)

The plan is a three-pronged approach. One of Criostoir's companions will search for the source and nature of all magic. Is magic mystical in nature? Does it truly have roots in the demonic (as some religions believe)? Is is physiological? Does it tap into some sort of energy field? What separates "dark" from "light" magic?

The second companion will research the biological differences between muggles and magic people. Why can one person do magic and not another? Although the ability seems to be genetic in nature, some are born of muggle parents. Why? Why do squibs not possess the ability? Is it a gene, a part of the brain, an extra organ?

Finally, Criostoir himself will research magic/muggle relations throughout history and seek to prepare muggles for accepting the existence of magic folk. Specifically, he focuses on theology, philosophy and history. His goal is to present a comprehensive view of the history, a way of viewing the world that allows for magic and muggle alike, and explain magic in a way that is compatible with the major world religions.

These three worked together throughout their remaining years at Hogwarts and planned future careers which would allow them to pursue their goal. They did the bare minimum of core course work to pass their OWLs and NEWTs and constantly reported their findings to Dumbledore.

After Hogwarts: When they graduated, Dumbledore helped place each in jobs that would further their studies. Each had a position in the Ministry of Magic who, in turn, placed them in institutions of higher learning using their muggle connections. The one studying the source and nature of magic went to Oxford, doing work in the field of geology. The one studying physiological differences between muggles and magic folk went to the University of Dublin where he worked on a medical degree. Criostoir went to the University of St. Andrew's as a triple major in history, philosophy and theology. They all kept in contact and shared research.

Criostoir still obsessed over his lost family, which helped him focus on his work. He didn't date or spend time with friends at all. This continued until he met a fellow student, a young woman with an infant son. He noticed her because the son, who was very agitated, had inadvertently blown the top off the pram in which he was riding. Bystanders thought it was the wind, but he felt the magic push that sent it flying. He introduced himself to the woman and they began a relationship.

The woman had been enchanted by a wizard who had gotten her pregnant (she didn't know that part at the time) and left her. Criostoir was able to reveal himself as a wizard and explain some of the other strange occurences the mother had experienced with her son. Eventually, he married her and adopted the boy. His subconscious motives were more research oriented (they were a test case for muggle/magic relations), but she couldn't tell as he devoted much of his time to their relationship. They were all quite happy.

Voldemort Rising: When Voldemort and the Death Eaters began their activities, things changed. The Ministry of Magic began putting great pressure on all three men to prepare the muggle world for their existence. They did not, yet, feel fear. Criostoir was the one who put Voldemort on their trail. He wrote a series of articles for the Daily Prophet designed to both inform magic folk about muggle history and make them realize the danger of Voldemort. Here are some of his submissions:
- The Dark Lord and the Fuhrer
- They Came for Me: Why We Must Help Muggles to Help Ourselves
- Muggle Response to Terrorism: Lessons for Wizards
- Detente and Magic, Giant and Werewolf Relations

Voldemort was not happy with the articles and began to find out about the author. Using his Ministry contacts, he found out about Criostoir and his friends. He not only wanted to end that particular line of inquiry, but also wanted to get their information for himself. The one researching differences between muggles and magic folk was the first to go. He had just enough time to incinerate his findings before he was tortured and killed. The one researching the source and nature of magic enchanted his work so that it would remain invisible to any eyes but a certain group of people. He, too, was killed.

Criostoir realized that he was going to have to escape right away, and warn his family as well. He sent his wife and son to Hogwarts to hide temporarily while he went to his childhood home. He arrived only to find it destroyed and his family dead. As he viewed the devastation, he received word by owl that his wife and son had been killed on their way to Hogwarts as well. This broke him. All his hopes and dreams and aspirations had been crushed in less than a week. He knew that he would die next, so he just sat there and waited for it.

As he waited, an idea came to him. One of the weaknesses of many magic people, especially those that hated muggles, was their total dependence on magic. If he were not susceptible to magic, he would be relatively safe from the Death Eaters. Quickly, expecting their arrival any time, he began to theorize on how to make himself impervious to magic. He devised a spell which combined Protego and Finite Incantatem. It would have two effects. First, it rendered him incapable of using magic. Second, it rendered him untouchable by magic. However, although he only had a rudimentary understanding of how it would work, he was forced to use it right away as he saw Death Eaters on brooms searching for him. He said the words, broke his wand and burned it. He most certainly felt something, but did not know if it had worked.

He marched out into the open, in plain view of his enemies. Because he didn't care if he lived or died, he was quite bold about it. They landed, four of them, and began to approach him. They asked him questions and he did not respond. First, they tried Crucio, but it had no effect. They tried several other spells, none of them working. Finally, they, in unison, said, "Avada Kedavra!" It, too, fizzled out and died.

Criostoir took this opportunity to strike back. Having made a study of many muggle cultures, he had learned self-defense techniques from many places. He proceeded to incapacitate one of the stunned Death Eaters, then another, and another. The third apparated just in time to avoid him. Criostoir returned to the first three and broke their necks.

He then found another place, well off the map, and lived there as a hermit for many years.

Harry Potter Era: Sometime after Harry began at Hogwarts, Dumbledore contacted Criostoir. Apparently, he had been seeking him for some time and needed his services. Crisotoir, after a serious internal struggle, returned to Hogwarts as the Professor of Muggle Studies. In addition, Dumbledore used him to do various jobs for the Order of the Phoenix. Because he was impervious to magic, Criostoir was uniquely suited to several tasks. He could see unplottable buildings and hidden text. He couldn't be harmed by magical means. Granted, he couldn't fly anywhere or apparate or use magic in any form; but he was quite useful all the same.

He dies just before or during Book 7. Dumbledore sends him (or he chooses to go) directly into a dangerous situation, knowing that he will probably die, in order to prepare the way for Harry to deal the final blow.

How should the story be written?: I kind of envision it as a memoir, a last testament before he dies. I'm open to suggestions.


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Nae Laird! Nae master!
We willna' be fooled agin!



A story about religion, magic, muggles
and what happens when you give up your wizard heritage:
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  #2  
Old May 21st, 2006, 1:59 am
criostoir  Male.gif criostoir is offline
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Joined: 4782 days
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Re: Help me write a new character?

OK, so only I can write on this thread, but please feel free to comment on it here. By comment I mean if you have suggestions or a chapter submission, etc, please post it. I'd love for this to be a group effort.


__________________
Nae King! Nae quin!
Nae Laird! Nae master!
We willna' be fooled agin!



A story about religion, magic, muggles
and what happens when you give up your wizard heritage:
Read it here. Comment on it here.


Last edited by criostoir; May 21st, 2006 at 8:34 pm.
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  #3  
Old May 21st, 2006, 9:22 pm
criostoir  Male.gif criostoir is offline
Third Year
 
Joined: 4782 days
Location: The Carolinas
Posts: 332
Re: Help me write a new character?

I'm just going to take a go at this. Please give me any ideas you have as to how I should structure this, or revamps on dialogue, etc. Chapter 1 will be a letter from DD to the hidden Criostoir, asking him to return to Hogwarts.


The owl dipped and swerved through thermal drafts, navigating her way to a lone island off the coast of Scotland. Her sharp, predatory eyes trained on a lone figure, making his way from the small town to a lone cabin near the rocky shore. She began her descending approach in ever slowing circles, with the figure as her target. Her silent wings did not betray her approach.

The figure, a male in a faded, hooded cloak; approached the gate surrounding his disheveled cabin. He reached a gloved hand to open it just as the owl landed on the top bar. He started back, not expecting her arrival. His eyes were quickly drawn to the parchment tied to her talons. "No ... NO!" he yelled, and stumbled backwards on the dirt. "Get away! Leave me alone!" He scrambled up and began to run back towards the town.

The owl took to flight, following her prey. She swooped low over his head and landed serenely on a branch just in front of him. "I said LEAVE ME ALONE!!" he yelled, and threw a rock at her. Quickly he turned and ran into the dark night, trying to escape the predator. But she would not be so easily eluded.

Again and again she landed just in front of his path, cutting off any escape for the desperate man. Eventually, he tripped over a root in the darkness, twisting his leg so he couldn't continue to run. In breathless fear, he watched as the graceful raptor landed just beside him. Again, regally, she held out her leg with the parchment attached. Surrendering to her, he untied the missive. She looked at him long and hard as if to say, "Read it, or I will return."

"Yes," he responded to her unspoken order. "I will." She left him there.

Afte some time, he picked himself up and limped slowly back to the cabin. Once there, he lit a candle and stared long at the parchment. After what seemed like hours, he began to unwrap it with trembling hands and read the contents.

Quote:
June 19

My Dear Criostoir,

It is with great reluctance that I disturb your self-imposed exile from our world. I assure you, I would not have chosen to contact you if it were not for the greatest urgency. You perhaps have not heard of the events that have transpired since your departure.

On Halloween night some 14 years ago, the enemy attempted to kill a young child. In that altercation, the killing curse backfired, destroying him, yet leaving the chosen victim unharmed. Although it seemed he was dead, I suspected he would return. It appears I was correct.

If my calculations are to be trusted, this correspondence should reach you two days hence, on the night of the Summer Solstice. It is fitting that this is so, for the long days of peace are now growing short and night is quickly approaching. We have need of services that you are particularly able to render. Without them, I am afraid that our efforts will be ultimately insufficient.

If you choose not to respond, I will not contact you again. You well deserve whatever peace you can find in your current existence. You have lost much in your service to me in the past: a wife, a son, a family, even your own magical abilities. All you have left to give is your life. I am afraid that may be needed of you as well.

I remain your most humble and obedient servant,
Albus Dumbledore
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

PS. I am also in need of a new Muggle Studies professor at Hogwarts. The position is yours, if you so desire.
A chill wind blew in the window and the candle flickered out.

Later that night, the owl watched as the lone figure, lamp in hand and carrying a knapsack, exited the cabin and began making his way to the rocky shore where a rowboat waited for him. He turned to look at the owl, locking eyes for a moment. With a curt nod, he turned his back and continued on his way.

The owl took flight again for the long return flight.


__________________
Nae King! Nae quin!
Nae Laird! Nae master!
We willna' be fooled agin!



A story about religion, magic, muggles
and what happens when you give up your wizard heritage:
Read it here. Comment on it here.

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  #4  
Old May 27th, 2006, 5:05 pm
criostoir  Male.gif criostoir is offline
Third Year
 
Joined: 4782 days
Location: The Carolinas
Posts: 332
Ch. 2: Another Letter

Criostoir and the rooster had a special understanding. Six days a week, he would herald the coming of the sun with his song, and wake the family to their daily work. But on Sunday, he remained quiet and allowed another voice to sing in the dawn. Criostoir and the rooster had come to this agreement after a frank conversation. He found that, if he just told animals what he desired, they seemed to understand and go along with it, as long as he kept their best interests at heart.

So, as with most other Sundays, Criostoir woke before his family so that he could put them in the right frame of mind for the day's worship. He started with Psalm 63 sung in Scots Gaelic. As he sang, his parents and siblings awoke. Normally, such an awakening would cause anger and consternation, but they couldn't help but catch the infectious tone of reverence and joy in the voice. They joined in his song and, singing Psalms together, they prepared for the day and walked together to the church.

There were seven of them; father, mother, older brother, and three younger sisters. In a dutiful, loving procession they walked. None had reached the age of adulthood and the youngest was barely four. It was a trip of over a mile, but no one complained and no one's voices tired, borne on the strength of the one voice. As they arrived, other families came as well, each joining into the songs. The father, Charles, took his place at the front as Criostoir led the congregation is singing more Psalms. He acted as precentor, singing a line and starting the melody as the people joined in, all in Scots Gaelic. All in unison.

To all who could hear, it sounded like heaven.

After the service, the crowd dispersed to their afternoon meals with more singing and reluctant hugs. Criostoir and his family walked home, the children playing all the way. They enjoyed a meal together. They commenced to enjoying a day of well-earned rest. That night, as the waning day gave way to the gloaming, Criostoir sang Psalm 95 while they knelt by their beds. It was a beautiful, perfect day. It was a day Criostoir would always remember.

It was the last happy day he would spend with his family. It was almost the last day he would ever see them.

The next day started as most days do. Rooster crowed in the dawning. The children awoke and turned to the many chores necessary to maintain a rural, farm life in the outer isles of Scotland. After finishing the morning chores, they began that day's lessons, under the tutelage of their mother and father. This would have taken them well into the afternoon, had the day not been interrupted by an unexpected visitor.

Criostoir's younger sister, Mahrie, was outside taking a break when she spied a strange bird wheeling above the house. She watched, transfixed, as it descended toward her. "Ma! Pa! Look, look!!" Her tone of urgency brought, not just her parents, but all of the family outside. In silent wonder, they watched the bird gracefully, silently, approach them.

"Look on God's creature, children. You'll na' see one often here, 'specially durin' the day. Tha's an owl, a nigh' hunter," said Charles. Together they watched until it landed on a fencepost nearby. Silently, they looked on one another. Then, quite out of character for any bird, the owl held out its talon. On it was tied a piece of parchment. Dumbfounded, they all looked at the owl, not knowing what to do. This was entirely out of their realm of experience. It hooted impatiently and shook the leg with the parchment again. With trepidation, Charles approached and untied it. The owl immediately flew off to a nearby tree and waited, watching.

Slowly, Charles unrolled the scroll and began to read it. His face turned from confusion to rage to fear as he looked from the letter to his son, Criostoir. In a cold, dark voice he said, "You children say here. Mother, come with me."

For four hours, the scene remained almost impassive. The children stayed on the grass, not playing, not talking, just listening and occasionally casting a fearful glance at their brother. From inside the house, they heard crying and shouting. At one point it got so loud they could actually make out what they were saying.

"It is written, 'Suffer na' a witch to live!'"

"NO! Do na' say tha' again!"

From her perch, the owl looked on, but made no sound or movement.

Well after lunchtime, when all the children were quite hungry, the parents called them inside. In the sitting room they all gathered. Charles had his son sit in the middle of the room, separate from everyone else. With no explanation, he gave Criostoir the letter, and bade him read it. On the outside was written, in emerald green to Mr. Criostoir Donnachiadh, Donnachiadh Farm, Isle of Lewis, Scotland. He opened it and read out loud:
Quote:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY


Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, Internation Confed. of Wizards
)

Dear Mr. Donnachiadh,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. Please feel free to use the delivering owl to inform us of your response no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
Albus Dumbledore,
Headmaster
After finishing, Criostoir was silent. Finally, he spoke. "I dinna understand. What do they mean?"

"Ach, my bairnie!" his mother wailed. "They mean you're a wizard. You're magic!"

"That canna be!" Criostoir protested. "There's no such thing."

"Aye, there is. And the Holy Book says it's of the devil," growled his father.

"But, I've never done magic. How can I be a wizard?"

"I should ha' seen it afore. Your way with the animals. Your voice."

"But that's na' anythin'!"

"There's more. You may na' remember, but when Mahrie was a wee bairn, our cows went dry. For almost a month, one bottle of milk held out for the lot of us. We thought it was a miracle of God, but now I see it was a trick of Satan. He used you to do it."

Criostoir was silent. The more he thought about it, the more he could see a hundred little ways things had gone his way in quite unordinary ways. His heart sank as he realized the implications of this. "But, Da, those were all good things. How could'na' do good things with devil power."

"LIES!! No more from you, demon spawn!"

"Da! Please!"

"No," his father said, turning his head. "You are na' son o' me."

Criostoir was devastated. His eyes began to tear as he looked to his mother. "Ma, no, no please..." His mother looked away, sobbing. Criostoir looked to all his siblings, and saw the fear and confusion in their own eyes. They could do nothing to help.

"Will you kill me, then?" he asked, coldly.

After a pause, his father replied. "It is what the Holy Book requires. But ... I canna' do it. I am too weak."

With a glimmer of hope, Criostoir cried out, "Ach, Da! Then I'll renounce it. I'll renounce this curse and be your son again! Oh, Da, thank y..."

"No. You'll na' stay here and corrupt my children. You'll leave us this very day and go somewhere else. Anywhere else. You'll go to your school, to Hogwarts, if you like, and you'll never bother us again. Understand?"

Criostoir noticed, for the first time, a satchel, presumably of clothes, and a bag of food laying by the door. He understood. Taking one last look at the unforgiving backs of his parents, he got up from his chair and picked up the bags. He also grabbed, from the table, the book of Gaelic Psalms, and turned to the door. As he opened it, Mahrie yelled, "Criostoir!" and threw herself in his arms. He held on to his six year old sister, as long as he could, until his father tore her from him. She struggled against him, trying to run to her brother, but she was held fast in stronger arms than she could break.

Turning again, he walked out the door. He looked up to the owl, and knew he had to make a decision. With nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to, he pulled out a pen and scribbled on the back of the parchment:

I am coming. I have no money and no family. Criostoir

"Take this to your cursed master," he said. The owl took to flight and Criostoir started on his way, following the general direction of his flight.


__________________
Nae King! Nae quin!
Nae Laird! Nae master!
We willna' be fooled agin!



A story about religion, magic, muggles
and what happens when you give up your wizard heritage:
Read it here. Comment on it here.

Reply With Quote
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