Physical Description
Always a small, scrawny little scrap of a child, Bran has done little growing either up or out since he received his invitation to Hogwarts. The last he’d checked, he’d finally - barely - made it just over a solid four-foot-four.

His hair, a deep, wavy black, is cut just short enough to miss his shoulders, and even though he does his best to keep it neat and orderly, it has a natural tendency towards wildness he always eventually caves to. As most of Bran’s free time has historically been spent in the family library, his skin can charitably be described as ‘ghostly’ and ‘washed-out’. When he’s coaxed away from his books, though, the sun brings out the faint freckles on his pale ivory skin.

By far Bran’s most striking feature is his eyes, a piercing shade of blue-green best described as minty. He's never seen out and about without his glasses - mostly because he can't see without his glasses.


Mental Description
Even in his early childhood, Bran was known in his small community as the quiet, reserved one. He’s much the same now at eleven, when he seldom uses two words where one will do. Despite that, though, he’s not shy, simply preferring to be measured with his words or to make an impact when he finally does speak.

With that, he can be unintentionally sharp, getting right to the heart of a person with what he has to say, keeping little in reserve as he cuts out the fluff. At times, he’s seriously hurt people with how tactless he can be, although he does make a point to apologize if he realizes what he’s done.

Even though he can be brusque in conversations, he does have a real, notable intuition for when someone’s in distress or just needs someone to talk to. Bran’s happy to be the shoulder to cry on or the one to put things in perspective. He has empathy in spades, even if he needs to work on his bedside manner.


Biography:
Bran was born to new parents Eryr and Celyn one crisp November morning, becoming the latest addition to the old pureblooded Aderyn family. While he had a happy start in life, fate turned it into a sober affair soon enough. After his mother Celyn’s death following a spellcasting accident, his father Eryr largely withdrew into himself, losing himself in his work caring for his aviary. Oh, Bran had almost anything a wizarding child could want, toy brooms and enchanted candies and trips to all the big magical communities in Europe, but his day-to-day care was largely left to a succession of nannies, butlers, and tutors.

For all that, Bran’s childhood wasn't unhappy. He had the run of the house, and he made the most of it, curling up in the family library or taking adventures over the hill as he saw fit. It gave him an appreciation for his independence and for quiet solitude, and perhaps added to his reputation as an old soul.

And, while their relationship is, perhaps, more strained than some other father-son bonds, Bran and his father Eryr still have a mutual respect for one another, and a more subtle sort of love.


First Instance of Magic
Bran was never the most sociable child with others his age. His preference for quiet and his sharp tongue had alienated him early on with the wizarding peers he might have had, and his family's reputation as 'strange folk' among the Muggle community had taken care of anyone else his age who might have made overtures of friendship.

That's how he found himself alone and in frustrated tears one wintry day, only a month or so out from his fifth birthday. The other neighborhood children had seen him playing in the fresh snowbank and were taking turns pelting him with snowballs, one after another after another.

All it took to push him over the edge into true anger was for one last snowball to arc perfectly through the air, smashing against his glasses and blinding him with the white powder. He'd screamed something - 'Stop it!', maybe, or 'Quit!', he could never quite remember - and then it was the other children yelping and scrambling away.

Summoned by his shout, his father had jogged out into the yard, voice stern as he ordered the others away and gathered Bran up to carry him back inside.

Through his feeble attempts to clean his face and clear off his glasses, Bran caught one last glance at the neighborhood children as they ran for their own homes, and through his teary vision, he'd been able to see how each and every one of them looked as though they'd been the ones on the receiving end of the snowball volley.


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