Physical Description: He had naturally brown hair (dyed black in year six), pale skin, and brown eyes. He was six foot six inches tall, average weight. He had a birthmark that looked like a large freckle the size of the tip of the thumb hidden on his left shoulder.

Mental Description: Elmo, during his school days and childhood, was very quiet and serious and even hard to read. Elmo did not trust people as easily as he wished he could. Now? Asides from becoming colder and lacking any sort of care and affection, he kept his happy feelings to himself. He felt like it was much too hard to make friends at this point. He could pretend to be polite, but deep down? He didn’t feel anything for anyone. He liked history, especially if they were dark and traumatic. He spent most of his time reading as well. If he did smile, which he does not do often, his smile never reached his eyes, his ears. The smile was weak.

Biography: January 2000. That was his birth month. He was the middle child in a family with five boys, one father and one mother. The Break household was always loud, as the boys all shouted, stomped, slammed doors, banged pots and pans together, punched one another, pulled cruel and evil pranks that Elmo would later be subjected to under bullying at Hogwarts. His siblings might not have always meant to hurt him growing up while they were doing things, stupid things. But they did. Elmo would often find himself being teased for crying much too easily, for finding interest in a book, for not fighting back!

His mother was always tired, and while she loved her sons, she didn’t have time to be soft. She wanted her boys to be strong, to listen and follow orders, to be silent. That didn’t really happen, not with her eldest two picking on Elmo. His father was a bit distant in the sense that he was more interested in his own work than he was his own children. Elmo later learned that it would be hard to get affection out of his father, no matter how badly he wanted it. Not even an ‘I love you.’ was uttered.

He shared a room with two of his brothers. They took his things, mocked his drawings and clothes and hair. Called him ugly and said he was a disappointment, that he was nothing more to the family than a bag full of trash that had yet to be taken out. When he turned eight, he stopped asking his family for help as often as he did. At nine, it was hard to get a word out of Elmo. When he did speak, it was more or less an ‘okay’ rather than ‘I learned that…’ with an excited tone like most children around his age.

At ten, he had his first instance of magic and got his letter of acceptance to Hogwarts, and he told his family. That year, he began to talk a little more, tried to get a conversation going. But other than constant insults from his brothers, he didn’t get much out of his family than just ‘My day was fine. Thank you.’ And then awkward silence. Every time.

Yes, his family went to Hogwarts, and the fact that he was going to Hogwarts must be nice, at least, nice for his family to know about because then he wasn’t a complete disappointment, he wasn’t a squib.

First Instance of Magic: Age 10. May 19th 2010.
He cried. Secretly. He tried so hard not to call any attention to himself. But he cried and cried. Why did it feel like he was a reject? Why did he have to feel so put down? Why did his heart have to ache every night? His head laid on his arms crossed in front of him on the desk. The wilting plant he had on his desk began to grow and it was almost as if it had regained life as it was bright and inviting in comparison to what it was when it wilted, but it grew fast, it healed, somehow? Elmo, still crying, looked up at the sunflower he had on his desk and only got confused. He didn’t water it. No one came into his dorm room, and especially not at the time he was in the room crying, everyone was out of the dorm room. He had no idea what happened.