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Isaac Strowler
Status:
Muggle-born
Nationality:
Australian
Residence:
Perth, Australia
Function:
First year, Hufflepuff
Wand:
23,7 cm chestnut wood and troll tail hair
Isaac Strowler is a happy-go-lucky guy, despite his less-than-loving upbringing. As a muggle-born, the discovery of his magical affinity was... scary, to a degree, though he didn't let it change who he was as a person. Eventually, he was invited to hogwarts, and naturally, he jumped at the chance to study the magical arts.

Isaac Strowler was born as an only child to Martha Strowler, maiden name Martha Biggs, and Christian Strowler. They raised him to be utterly respectful of those around him, though in a warm, welcoming hand way, rather than a strict family way. They lived in a near constant state of lower middle class. They weren't super well off, but they weren't exactly in poverty, either. Isaac was a very social person, who tended to make a fair amount of friends wherever he went, or at least tried to be such. Sometimes, this got him the label of "suck-up", though he didn't mind. The friends he made more than made up for the bullies who targeted him for such. He had a philosophy, basically forced into him by his caring parents. "No matter where you go, bullies will always be waiting there to try and ruin your fun. But as long as you have friends, and real friends at that, those bullies can't really do anything". He implemented this way of thinking into all aspects of his life. Any negativity directed towards him, if directed in an nonconstructive manner, fell upon deaf ears. He lived his childhood ignoring, or at least trying his best to ignore, the bullies of the world, while instead focusing exclusively on the uplifting majority that aimed to bring him joy.

Though Isaac was born and raised in Australia, at a young age, his family and him moved to London, much to his dismay. He had made so many friends in Australia, which he'd have to move away from, to London of all places. They promised to stay in touch with each other, or at least try to, but still, he was somewhat saddened by the move. Sure, he was excited to meet his distant relatives whom lived in London, but he knew that he'd miss his old friends greatly.

It was in London where he received his letter of acceptance into Hogwarts. Just a few months prior to receiving his letter, Isaac had his first act of magic. It was a simple, rather minor act, but unforgettable nonetheless.

It was a simply sunny morning, or at least as sunny as one might expect for a winter in London, and Isaac was in bed with a cold. Evidently, his body was having a hard time adjusting to the vastly different climate. His mother came in to check on him. She doted over him for a moment or two, offering a bowl of pumpkin soup, and giving him a nice, warm hug, before leaving his room, forgetting to close the door on her way out. It was such a minor thing, but Isaac just wanted for that door to be closed. A cold draft was wafting into his otherwise warmed room, one that was sending quite the shiver down his spine. His focus, unable to be put anywhere else, was exclusively directed towards that door, and, before his eyes, the door closed itself. Such a minor thing, really. One might even blame the draft that was coming into the room. But deep down, Isaac knew that somehow, he'd caused that door to close. From that point onward, he spent the vast majority of his time, trying his best to influence the world the way he influenced that door, by trying to make objects move on their own. The success he found was minimal, only managing very small objects such as making cookies float, knocking over cups, flinging blankets off of beds, but regardless, the tiny little victories were enough to enthral Isaac. He wanted to learn anything and everything he could. So, when he got that letter, he couldn't have been happier.

Isaac is a peach-skinned, somewhat above average height kid, with hair that usually sits curly, though he typically enjoys having it straightened. Said hair is a light-ish brown. His eyes are a faded grey colour, that always seems to sparkle with amazement. He always seems to wear a smile, even when being yelled at, because a smile tends to be the best way to disarm an opponent during an argument. Or at least, he hopes it is.