Post by Raven King on Mar 26, 2007 19:14:33 GMT -5
Birth Name: Draco Xavier Malfoy
Nicknames: Draco, Ferret
Age: 17
Born: Jan. 9, 1980
Gender: Male
Occupation: Death Eater
Wand: 11" Wormwood with phoenix feather
Animals: A raven by the name of Storm Wing.
[Health]
Eyesight: 20/20
Hearing: Good
Left/Right/Ambi: Left handed
Disabilities/Handicaps: None
Physical Health: Healthy
[Psychology]
IQ: Above average
Extrovert/Introvert: Introvert
Phobias/Fears:
_Asthenophobia_- Fear of fainting or weakness.
_Ataxophobia_- Fear of disorder or untidiness.
_Teratophobia_- Fear of bearing a deformed child.
Mental Health: He has distinct control issues. He has to be in control at all times. Control of himself, his surroundings, of those around him, and of every aspect touching his life because he believes that he is above all his own Master. In many ways, he sees himself as Voldemort's equal and thinks of himself as his true right hand. He's not particularly insane, though he follows an insane cause. But he's also cold and has very little feeling for anyone else, but when he does allow himself to care about someone he must control all aspects of their life as well. He will also be rather doting.
[Personality]
Goals/Dreams: To have a place of power among the Elite and to help rule the world.
Quirks/Habits: Carries his wand everywhere and will grip it when distressed or angry. Just as likely to beat someone with it as to fire a hex off.
Likes: Control, Power, Potions
Dislikes: Incompetence, whiny people, idiots, muggles, mudbloods, Harry Potter and his friends.
First Impression: Well dressed and conscious of his appearance. Comes across cold and uncaring to most people, unless he decides it is to his advantage to garner their admiration or support. Was taught that display of uncontrolled emotion was a sign of weakness. Draco is very easily angered at incompetence and or ill attempted manipulation. His main sources of power come through fear, money, and charm (to a select few). Around friends, he is very much the same as he is around people he doesn't know - rather stoic, with an aura of control. Draco has a few insecurities, however, there are very few, if any, people that know what they are, or are even aware of them.
Philosophy of Life: Want, Take, Have.
[Family]
Father: Lucius Malfoy
Mother: Narcissa (Black) Malfoy
Lover: None
[Background]
Draco was born into a very rich pure blooded family. His parents expect him to live up to his family’s legacy. Draco was home schooled until he was 9 and then he spent 2 years in an elite wizard etiquette school. When he was 11 he was accepted to Hogwarts and was sorted into Slytherin. Draco likes to keep fit and takes pride in his duelling skills. His father taught him to fence since he was 5 and he has always had a love for fighting in armed and unarmed combat. As much as Draco loves to use his wand, he is also quick to use any other means when fighting, knowing that in a fight you may not always have your wand to rely on. Because of this, Draco always carries a dagger on him. Draco has a lot of pride of his house and gets along well with the other Slytherins. At the end of his 5th year at Hogwarts, his father was sent to Azkaban thanks to Harry Potter and his interfering friends. Lord Voldemort was not happy with Draco's father, Lucius, failing him, punishing him by having Fenrir Greyback bite him. Draco is now a werewolf and is not proud of it. Although he comes across as the 'perfect pureblood', he privately no longer considers his blood 'pure'. It is dirtied with Lycanthropy. Though Draco will not tell anyone about his 'condition', fearing he will lose his status amongst his peers.
Occupation: Death Eater
Education: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Home: Malfoy Estate. Though he has been in a hidden location with Severus Snape since the murder of Albus Dumbledore.
Finance: Rich
[Appearance]
Height: 1.9m (6ft 1in)
Weight: 85kg (187lbs)
Eyes: Grey
Hair: Platinum Blonde
Build: Average
Defining Marks: Dark Mark, Cresent moon shaped scar on his arm
Dress Style: Proper
Possessions always on this person: Wand, Dagger
[Romantic]
Marital Status: Single
Past Relationships: Pansy Parkinson
[RP sample]
The figure stood silently in the dark, his cloak flapping slowly in the small breeze that blew fallen leaves across the ground, scattering them on headstones like nature's perverse attempt to desecrate the chastes of dead ones, some remembered forever by loved ones, others nobody ever knew.
Long fingers stretched out like a spider on the top of a tombstone as he looked out across the quiet cemetary. The sound of leather dragging across stone alerted him to the giant serpent that was slithering up behind him. He turned slowly with a twisted smile on his face.
:: Ah, Nagini. :: He hissed in parseltongue to his beloved snake. :: What did you find? ::
A small hint of tenderness touched his twisted features when he saw the snake's head hang in a small token of defeat. :: Patience, my pet. :: He carressed the headstone with no affection and gazed appraisingly at Nagini.
:: Come now. :: He ordered and the giant snake obediently followed, slithering beside her master as they neared the figure that had appeared in silence near a small pile of rubble that was once a headstone. A cold cruel laugh left Voldemort's thin lips as he narrowed his red eyes on the figure. "Draco... How good of you to come."
Draco immediately dropped on one knee. "My Lord." He murmured reverantly, his head bowed and his eyes cast to the ground in respect.
Ragged breaths quickened as the familiar sound of footsteps pumped in his ears. Heavy eyes forced themselves to peel open a crack, enough for the flickering of a candlelight to force them shut again. His head was too heavy to lift, his throat to raw to make a sound. His limps bruised and battered from the unforgiving curse hung limp as they kept him hung on the wall like a work of art.
Chalk white lips attempted a sneer at the man's words, blood seeping from the dry cracks that split on his chaffed lips. A soundless cough as he drew a few ragged breaths, each one hurting worse than the first. A noise or a word, he wasn't sure in his hazy mind, though it sounded different than the voice he had endured in the last few days, yet it seemed like an etetnity.
The drop from the wall to the floor was short and painful, though there was no voice left in the blonde, having screamed until his vocal cords felt like they were ripped from his throat. He landed clumsily, though the pain was too numbing to hurt. He looked at Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf that bit him, with a heavy frown, then darkness surrounded him.
"Severus ... please ..."
Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore. "Avada Kedavra!"
A jet of green light shot from the end of Snape's wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest. For a split second he seemed to hang suspended beneath the shining skull, and then he fell slowly backwards, like a rag doll, over the battlements and out of sight.
Draco woke with a start, his body drenched in sweat and his breath coming out in quick bursts. Sitting up he realised it was only a dream. Another dream. He'd been having them a lot lately, ever since Albus Dumbledore died.
It wasn't that Draco missed the old fool. He was glad he was dead. But it was Draco's task. He was to kill the old wizard, and Severus Snape stole that from him. He dabbed at his face with a towel that was hanging over a chair near his bed and stood up, throwing his clothes on quickly.
Slowly making his way downstairs to the common room. He didn't want to be here in this dump. He didn't need to be here. He was an adult now. He didn't care what the Ministry thought. Ignoring everyone for now he sat down on a couch, his arms folded and a frown on his face as he stared at a horrid looking picture on the wall.
There was talk in the Common Room about how lovely it was today. Chatter about what students were going to do filled the room. Draco didn't like to be outside. He would rather be in the castle than out there, either sitting in the library, working on a potion in the dungeons, sitting in the Slytherin Common Room, or even in his own dormitory.
Unless of course he was following the insulent Harry Potter and his half witted friends around in order to catch them doing something that could warrant them being expelled.
Today however, he was in the Slytherin Common Room. He wasn't worried about what the Golden Trio were doing. He wasn't worried about what anyone was doing. It was too early in the morning. There would be plenty of time later for that. He watched the students file out of the room until it was completely empty, then slowly made his way out, taking his time as he headed for the Great Hall.
He watched students in front of him as they hurried along, and sneered. What was the hurry? The food wasn't going anywhere. And so it seemed the food was all still there when Draco finally arrived at the Slytherin table, busily buzzing with activity as students talked about anything and everything to another like excited preschoolers.
Draco sauntered down to the end of the table, intent on sitting by himself, and sat, staring at the food as though it were something completely foreign to him. He wasn't hungry. So why was he here?
Nicknames: Draco, Ferret
Age: 17
Born: Jan. 9, 1980
Gender: Male
Occupation: Death Eater
Wand: 11" Wormwood with phoenix feather
Animals: A raven by the name of Storm Wing.
[Health]
Eyesight: 20/20
Hearing: Good
Left/Right/Ambi: Left handed
Disabilities/Handicaps: None
Physical Health: Healthy
[Psychology]
IQ: Above average
Extrovert/Introvert: Introvert
Phobias/Fears:
_Asthenophobia_- Fear of fainting or weakness.
_Ataxophobia_- Fear of disorder or untidiness.
_Teratophobia_- Fear of bearing a deformed child.
Mental Health: He has distinct control issues. He has to be in control at all times. Control of himself, his surroundings, of those around him, and of every aspect touching his life because he believes that he is above all his own Master. In many ways, he sees himself as Voldemort's equal and thinks of himself as his true right hand. He's not particularly insane, though he follows an insane cause. But he's also cold and has very little feeling for anyone else, but when he does allow himself to care about someone he must control all aspects of their life as well. He will also be rather doting.
[Personality]
Goals/Dreams: To have a place of power among the Elite and to help rule the world.
Quirks/Habits: Carries his wand everywhere and will grip it when distressed or angry. Just as likely to beat someone with it as to fire a hex off.
Likes: Control, Power, Potions
Dislikes: Incompetence, whiny people, idiots, muggles, mudbloods, Harry Potter and his friends.
First Impression: Well dressed and conscious of his appearance. Comes across cold and uncaring to most people, unless he decides it is to his advantage to garner their admiration or support. Was taught that display of uncontrolled emotion was a sign of weakness. Draco is very easily angered at incompetence and or ill attempted manipulation. His main sources of power come through fear, money, and charm (to a select few). Around friends, he is very much the same as he is around people he doesn't know - rather stoic, with an aura of control. Draco has a few insecurities, however, there are very few, if any, people that know what they are, or are even aware of them.
Philosophy of Life: Want, Take, Have.
[Family]
Father: Lucius Malfoy
Mother: Narcissa (Black) Malfoy
Lover: None
[Background]
Draco was born into a very rich pure blooded family. His parents expect him to live up to his family’s legacy. Draco was home schooled until he was 9 and then he spent 2 years in an elite wizard etiquette school. When he was 11 he was accepted to Hogwarts and was sorted into Slytherin. Draco likes to keep fit and takes pride in his duelling skills. His father taught him to fence since he was 5 and he has always had a love for fighting in armed and unarmed combat. As much as Draco loves to use his wand, he is also quick to use any other means when fighting, knowing that in a fight you may not always have your wand to rely on. Because of this, Draco always carries a dagger on him. Draco has a lot of pride of his house and gets along well with the other Slytherins. At the end of his 5th year at Hogwarts, his father was sent to Azkaban thanks to Harry Potter and his interfering friends. Lord Voldemort was not happy with Draco's father, Lucius, failing him, punishing him by having Fenrir Greyback bite him. Draco is now a werewolf and is not proud of it. Although he comes across as the 'perfect pureblood', he privately no longer considers his blood 'pure'. It is dirtied with Lycanthropy. Though Draco will not tell anyone about his 'condition', fearing he will lose his status amongst his peers.
Occupation: Death Eater
Education: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Home: Malfoy Estate. Though he has been in a hidden location with Severus Snape since the murder of Albus Dumbledore.
Finance: Rich
[Appearance]
Height: 1.9m (6ft 1in)
Weight: 85kg (187lbs)
Eyes: Grey
Hair: Platinum Blonde
Build: Average
Defining Marks: Dark Mark, Cresent moon shaped scar on his arm
Dress Style: Proper
Possessions always on this person: Wand, Dagger
[Romantic]
Marital Status: Single
Past Relationships: Pansy Parkinson
[RP sample]
The figure stood silently in the dark, his cloak flapping slowly in the small breeze that blew fallen leaves across the ground, scattering them on headstones like nature's perverse attempt to desecrate the chastes of dead ones, some remembered forever by loved ones, others nobody ever knew.
Long fingers stretched out like a spider on the top of a tombstone as he looked out across the quiet cemetary. The sound of leather dragging across stone alerted him to the giant serpent that was slithering up behind him. He turned slowly with a twisted smile on his face.
:: Ah, Nagini. :: He hissed in parseltongue to his beloved snake. :: What did you find? ::
A small hint of tenderness touched his twisted features when he saw the snake's head hang in a small token of defeat. :: Patience, my pet. :: He carressed the headstone with no affection and gazed appraisingly at Nagini.
:: Come now. :: He ordered and the giant snake obediently followed, slithering beside her master as they neared the figure that had appeared in silence near a small pile of rubble that was once a headstone. A cold cruel laugh left Voldemort's thin lips as he narrowed his red eyes on the figure. "Draco... How good of you to come."
Draco immediately dropped on one knee. "My Lord." He murmured reverantly, his head bowed and his eyes cast to the ground in respect.
~~~
Ragged breaths quickened as the familiar sound of footsteps pumped in his ears. Heavy eyes forced themselves to peel open a crack, enough for the flickering of a candlelight to force them shut again. His head was too heavy to lift, his throat to raw to make a sound. His limps bruised and battered from the unforgiving curse hung limp as they kept him hung on the wall like a work of art.
Chalk white lips attempted a sneer at the man's words, blood seeping from the dry cracks that split on his chaffed lips. A soundless cough as he drew a few ragged breaths, each one hurting worse than the first. A noise or a word, he wasn't sure in his hazy mind, though it sounded different than the voice he had endured in the last few days, yet it seemed like an etetnity.
The drop from the wall to the floor was short and painful, though there was no voice left in the blonde, having screamed until his vocal cords felt like they were ripped from his throat. He landed clumsily, though the pain was too numbing to hurt. He looked at Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf that bit him, with a heavy frown, then darkness surrounded him.
~~~
"Severus ... please ..."
Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore. "Avada Kedavra!"
A jet of green light shot from the end of Snape's wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest. For a split second he seemed to hang suspended beneath the shining skull, and then he fell slowly backwards, like a rag doll, over the battlements and out of sight.
~~~
Draco woke with a start, his body drenched in sweat and his breath coming out in quick bursts. Sitting up he realised it was only a dream. Another dream. He'd been having them a lot lately, ever since Albus Dumbledore died.
It wasn't that Draco missed the old fool. He was glad he was dead. But it was Draco's task. He was to kill the old wizard, and Severus Snape stole that from him. He dabbed at his face with a towel that was hanging over a chair near his bed and stood up, throwing his clothes on quickly.
Slowly making his way downstairs to the common room. He didn't want to be here in this dump. He didn't need to be here. He was an adult now. He didn't care what the Ministry thought. Ignoring everyone for now he sat down on a couch, his arms folded and a frown on his face as he stared at a horrid looking picture on the wall.
There was talk in the Common Room about how lovely it was today. Chatter about what students were going to do filled the room. Draco didn't like to be outside. He would rather be in the castle than out there, either sitting in the library, working on a potion in the dungeons, sitting in the Slytherin Common Room, or even in his own dormitory.
Unless of course he was following the insulent Harry Potter and his half witted friends around in order to catch them doing something that could warrant them being expelled.
Today however, he was in the Slytherin Common Room. He wasn't worried about what the Golden Trio were doing. He wasn't worried about what anyone was doing. It was too early in the morning. There would be plenty of time later for that. He watched the students file out of the room until it was completely empty, then slowly made his way out, taking his time as he headed for the Great Hall.
He watched students in front of him as they hurried along, and sneered. What was the hurry? The food wasn't going anywhere. And so it seemed the food was all still there when Draco finally arrived at the Slytherin table, busily buzzing with activity as students talked about anything and everything to another like excited preschoolers.
Draco sauntered down to the end of the table, intent on sitting by himself, and sat, staring at the food as though it were something completely foreign to him. He wasn't hungry. So why was he here?