Name of PC: Phaedra Stavrou
Name of iNPC: Lysander Stavrou
School of iNPC: Durmstrang

Physical Description:

Like many Stavrous, Lysander has jet black hair. It is naturally curly and falls to the nape of his neck and past expressive brows. He much prefers the way long hair frames his face—often delaying a haircut until the point where it appears shaggy. Compared to his step-mother’s style, his is not too flashy, and instead, right in the ballpark of what a proper boy would choose for himself. He likes coats, blazers, cloaks, and dress shirts, with cuff links and watches as accessories. Black is his self-described colour, only experimenting with others in the form of accents when in the mood. Tall, lean, and toned, Lysander has trained since his early youth for the unmistakable physique of a dancer. He is still growing, targeted for beyond 6’0 one day, well indicated by his appetite. His skin is slightly tan without the freckles inherited by his cousins, nose with a strong, straight bridge and rounded tip. Paired with his hooded eyes are model-like cheekbones that deepen when he smiles. All in all, Lysander is content in his appearance. Girls seemed to like it plenty.

Mental Description:

On first glance to most people, Lysander has a roguishly charming, magnetic, and friendly personality. Seemingly a normal, respectably-raised teenager, it would befuddle many to realise that there was even a two-faced side to him at all. He’s notoriously slow to anger, at least externally, adopting instead an air of indifference when personally affronted. In severe cases, he is not opposed to emptying the culprit’s pockets. Although more concerned with sports than academics, Lysander knows better than to bring a failing mark home to his parents. He is quite knowledgeable in theory, but has a troubling grasp on the execution. His shortcomings in magical ability has lead to an overcompensation in other areas, namely agility and physical strength. Ballet, Quidditch, and fencing are three of his disciplines shaped by such. He enjoys testing the limits of what he can get away with as if some sort of thrilling experiment and pride is his biggest vice.

Biography and First History of Magic:

Alexander and Lynn Stavrou (née Wycliffe), newly wed, had their eyes set on a long and fruitful legacy. Lynn was a staunch philanthropist and founder of Wycliffe Children’s Charity—a labour of love created in her father’s name and vision. And in his father’s vision, Alexander would join Stavrou & Stannings, family business whose wealth would provide a life of luxury. Seemingly picture-perfect, traditional, and charitable, the school sweethearts had won their in-laws’ good graces.

The blessings came tenfold on the arrival of their first and only child. During a chilly morning on November 13, 2005, the couple welcomed son Lysander-Blaine Cenric Stavrou after a year of marriage. Lynn proved a natural at motherhood. Perhaps a remnant of her profession, her compassion and ease at which she could connect with any child only enhanced her son’s comfortable upbringing. Under her care, Lysander was a “mother’s boy” in every sense of the word, with unrivalled energy and happiness. There was ample time in his later years, she believed, for shaping the boy into a suitable heir.

But her time was nearing. Lynn never realised her dream to fill the home with countless children, nor to witness Lysander’s growth into a respectable man. When Lysander was two, Lynn was killed while hosting an evening event by a wayward curse meant for her husband. The couple’s charity—the ownership of which was then afterwards passed on to a sister-in-law—was brought into question. Why would anyone have any gripe with Alexander Stavrou, youngest and least offensive son of Elliot and Helen Stavrou, and by extension, his wife who had dedicated herself to aiding the hungry and unfortunate? The perpetrator had his comeuppance in the law, but it would not heal Alexander’s grieving.

For two years, Alexander raised his son alone, all the while hounded by guilt and social pressure to remarry. Although sympathetic, his family believed that a mother was too important to deprive of young Lysander, and so Alexander officially branched out for a new wife just days after what would have been his fifth anniversary. Not just anyone would suffice, however. To the Stavrous, marriage required benefit. Just because it was Alexander’s second did not mean the standards were any lower. Art was a favourite pastime of the family and a commodity within their circles. Propelled by their shipping business, the world of art trade was a logical next realm to conquer. In 2009, Alexander silenced concerns with an engagement to Sutton Pierce, notable half-blood artist, art broker, and collector. They married weeks later. Would Lynn understand? He certainly prayed so. Perhaps a marriage for politics and not love would feel less to the man like treachery.

Lysander, on the other hand, retained no memories of his birth mother. Other than curiosity of her person and accepting her name as a moniker, Lysander felt he didn’t necessarily need them—not with Sutton now raising him. Sutton showed as much dedication to motherhood as Lynn, albeit questionable at times, no doubt fuelled by her chronic eccentricities. While Lynn was firm, but forgiving in her moral teachings, Sutton’s border-line obsessions with the abstract and all things shiny pushed Lysander into a downward streak. Now nearing the age of nine, he had private tutoring like most pure-blood children who could afford it, and ballet lessons he’d barely nudged Sutton for after his father’s clear-cut refusal. Lysander had accompanied his step-mother to countless auctions, theatre shows, and operas, which Alexander increasingly began to see as distractions. A young man couldn’t be raised on all play and no work.

Alexander knew patience was a virtue, but his son was nine and a first magic had yet to surface. With his younger niece’s, Phaedra’s, occurring years prior, the man felt as if running on limited time. A squib first-born son would be an immeasurable disappointment. Eventually, it happened, though not in any condition worth celebrating. When Lysander, returning home from an auction, was caught with a tiara pilfered right out of the highest bidder’s possession (for the sole desire of gifting it to his new baby sister Constance), Alexander lurched to wrestle it from his hands. He met empty air, the accessory having vanished to another room in his son’s panic. Alexander felt relief that his son was magical, but had enough of his routine and disobedient behaviour. While the tiara was returned on the guise of an accident, Alexander decided to send the boy to Durmstrang Institute in hopes it’d straighten him out, and most importantly, separate him from Sutton’s shameful kleptomania.

Lysander challenged him to no avail. At the age of ten, he began his studies at Durmstrang. With his father in strict correspondences with staff, Lysander laid low, seemingly turned over a new leaf if not for an inconspicuous collection of quills and other minor objects. The school’s curriculum was interesting at least, earning him slightly above average marks where paperwork was concerned. The same could not be said for his shoddy spell-work. Instead, Lysander’s strengths lay in his raw, unmatched athleticism. He had long eyed the Durmstrang Quidditch Team, especially after exhausting his supply of new castle walls to scale and mirrored rooms to practice pirouettes. One day Lysander wrote home for his father’s blessings to try out for Quidditch. On the condition that his marks and conduct remain steady, he received in return a shiny broom and letter announcing Sutton’s latest pregnancy. Constance had scribbled her wishes for a sister.