Full Name: Marshal Walker

House: Gryffindor

Age: 12 years

Wand: 26,4 cm cherry wood and dragon heartstring

School Year: First Year

Patronus: (Not applicable until 6th years)

Species: Human

History/Background Story:

Reducio

Born on a cold December 10th, Marshal was raised by his mom in Westminster, and had a fairly calm life. By calm, that doesn't mean comfortable, more just not very loud and exciting. His mother was often struggling with money, and although they hadn't fallen into poverty, his mom still had to be out of the house quite often, so he didn't get a lot of family time. He has a younger sister around the age of two, which he's often found taking care of while his mom is out of the house. He occasionally visits his grandmother, beautiful for her age with wavy silver hair and an amazing brownies recipe. Though visits are rare, it’s still nice to see her. His grandmother’s house has always seemed cozy to him, and he spent lots of his childhood time hanging around her. His father had died in an unfortunate car accident a year before present time, rendering the family sorrowful and slow. School life was fairly quiet, a side-location where life seemed to be set to the side. He had decent grades in most of his classes, though what he had in grades he lacked in friendships, being stuffed closely into his shell. Though he had nice looks, he rarely had anyone fawning over him, probably to do with his shyness, and didn’t really attend any of the dances or big school events. His life was at home, with his sister and occasionally mother. And even then he felt distanced from those around him.

First Instance of Magic:

Reducio

Marshal had been in school for his first instance of magic, studying alone in an empty classroom. He had been behind on a bit of science homework, so he had to stay back for a bit whilst recess proceeded. His science teacher, out of the classroom because he had to use the restroom, had informed him that all he had left to do was a make up experiment. Unfortunately, he hadn't told Marshal where the correct items were to go through with the assignment was, so he had to find them himself. Reaching for the glass beaker atop the burner, he momentarily forgot the mit to protect his hands. One hand slipping on a loose pencil, his opposite reaching hand dove downwards, brushing the lit flame. Surprisingly, he didn't feel a thing other than an icy shiver. Unbeknownst to Marshal, he had just had his first "brush" with magic.

Lots of credit goes to Edme Achillian, for she helped me with this and is continuing to help me with many of the works of the website.