platinum hair frames basil's boyish face, cut short along the sides while his bangs lay just above his eyebrows. the porcelain pale skin of his face is unblemished, touched with the faintest dusting of a rosy blush that runs from his cheeks to his ears. speaking of which, basil is rather subconscious of his ears and their rather large proportions compared to the rest of his face. determined to draw attention away from his ears, the boy wears a hat whenever possible. his eyes are a soft powder blue that exude warmth and are often wide with a child-like wonder. between them lies a thin nose, slightly hawkish at the tip and reminiscent of a roman statue. unusually tall for a boy his age, basil casts a rather large shadow over his peers with a height of 165cm. despite his tall stature, he is rather graceful and methodical in his movements. his baggy patchwork coat hides his lean muscles that are kept toned by many early mornings tending to the family farm. had he not possessed the surname of a prominent pureblood family, basil could easily be mistaken for possessing veela heritage.

with a voice as gentle as satin and a calm demeanor, friendship finds basil quite easily. a true pacifist, he avoids conflict as much as possible, preferring words over fists. as much as he is independent, basil enjoys the company of friends and magical beasts alike. as kind and compassionate as he is, basil should not be mistaken for naive. wise for his age and driven by curiosity, he absorbs knowledge like a dry sponge. his mother's accident and his brother's death forced basil to grow up far too soon but has yet to put a damper on his adventurous and stalwart spirit. if anything, the mysteries surrounding the unfortunate events have sparked a yearning to resolve the unknown circumstances. unlike most purebloods, basil is fascinated by the muggle world and has a wide array of muggle-born friends.

basil alaric laurel was born on january 30th in a quaint little cottage surrounded by the immense irish countryside. unlike most pureblood families, the laurel's prefer a simple, hard-earned lifestyle rather than one of luxury. his father, narcissus laurel, is a magizoologist who studies category xxxx and above creatures for the ministry. it's no surprise that the man has opened his home to creatures great and small. from romping around with pixies to climbing his family's orchard trees to catch bowtruckles, basil seemed to inherit his father's adoration for magical creatures. his mother, magnolia laurel, was a healer at st. mungo's until a memory charm backfired and left her in a catatonic state. occasionally, his mother has moments of clarity, but they are few and far between. basil had an older brother who was six years his senior, aster, until his mysterious death left basil as the only surviving child of narcissus and magnolia. the details of aster's untimely demise are only known to their mother, whose mind has become hauntingly empty from a self-inflicted memory charm. the two brothers were inseparable, that is until aster began to withdraw from his family and shroud himself in mystery. there are rumors that aster was using his father's research for sinister purposes, evidenced by the former slytherin's reclusive nature and frightening inquiries into forbidden topics. basil refuses to believe his brother was capable of harboring such wickedness and seeks to clear his brother's name. like his father, basil is interested in magizoology, especially the often misunderstood thestrals.

basil was a mere six years old when his magic began to manifest. the summer heat was intense, so much so that even the shy bowtruckles ventured from their homes in the orchard trees to bury themselves in the cool soil. much too warm to stay inside, aster and basil wandered out to the orchard to dig up worms and use them as bait for their fishing rods. as basil knelt down to scoop away at the soil with his hands, a bowtruckle uprooted itself and fled from the platinum-haired boy. mimicking his father who often took basil to catch the sly creatures for research, the boy quietly tip-toed to the tree where the bowtruckle had escaped to. his curiosity drove him to climb the tree, losing his footing a few times along the way. just out of his grasp was the bowtruckle, scurrying towards the end of a branch nearby. as basil reached for the small creature, the branch he was perched on gave way with a bone-chilling snap! aster, who remained on solid ground instead of following his younger brother up the tree, held out his arms in a panic to catch the falling boy. instead of falling to the ground in an instant, basil began to float down as if he was light as a bowtruckle himself. needless to say, when the boys returned to the cottage, a different version of the story was told to their parents to avoid causing more stress than they had already been through.