Sam Thorne has white skin, light freckles, and shortish brown hair. His eyes are a brown color. He is a taller boy, muscular yet skinny. He can run fast for his legs are quite long. He has a scar on his right arm from an attack from a feral dog, luckily it is quite faded, no one should notice it without looking for it specifically.

Sam doesn't talk much, but that is because he is busy always thinking. His mind is very analytical, very knowledgeable. He is witty when he does speak, playful and goofy.

His family is middle class, and when he was little he did know that there was magic for his father was a wizard, while his mother was a muggle. He didn't know, actually, if HE could use magic or not. When he tried, using his father's wand, it wouldn't do anything. His grandfather, on his dad side, would always sit him down and really teach him some interesting things about magic, and Sam would always listen carefully.

Sam was eating breakfast in his room. He was thinking, like always. His coffee cup, that of which he was drinking out of, was out of reach. He reached out trying to grab it, and before he even touched it the cup began to float over to his hand. He had done it...without trying to at least.