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With the muggleborns in charge, nothing has really changed since the Battle of Hogwarts. The sides have been switched with those bearing old family names being discriminated against. Once again the revolution is upon us. What side will go to the darkest places to get what they want? Will it be yours?

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Ophiuchus Lestrange

Slytherin

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Aug 12 2017, 09:21 PM
The pair of boys apparated through the many wards laid over the house, appearing in the front entry way of the massive house. Situated in Belgrave Square, the luxurious house wasn't nearly as ancient as the manor in Medsford Park; it was far more bright and cheery, speckled with marble pillars and golden portrait frames.

Leaving Lysander to stand, Ophiuchus hissed, feeling the injury on his side begin to sear and his broken arm throb. Pulling the black mask off his face with an audible grunt, he yelled out: "GRIGSBY!" and almost instantly a house-elf appeared at his side.

"Get Selwyn a drink, and fix this," he nodded at the arm he cradled, a wand still in his hand. The creature, an ancient and toad-like thing, nodded slowly and apparated away. Ophiuchus pushed the door to the drawing room open, seating himself on a rather puffy, lilac chair and humming with irritation. "Sit down, Lysander," he grunted, "let's have a chat."

He recalled the riot, the fighting, and most of all the discomfort he might've caused with his brash impulses; he cursed at himself for a moment, before leaning back in the chair, Grigsby returning with a pot of tea and something a little stronger in a black flask. The elf went to work on the Lestrange's arm and side, Ophiuchus fishing out his grandfather's wand— the wand which he used an unforgivable— from his cloak-pocket and setting it beside his own on the oaken table. "Help yourself," he said as happily as he could, nodding towards the drinks the elf had brought them.

"I hope we can forget my rather foolish excessiveness back there," the Lestrange said; of course he was in pain, but he mustered a smile. "Us purebloods must stick together, shouldn't we?" In a way, the Lestrange thought perhaps by rescuing the younger boy from the maw of that tempestuous riot might've made them even; a secret for a life.

"Of course, being on the continent has made me rather lazy when it comes to the law," he laughed.

Lysander Selwyn
Aug 1 2017, 02:50 AM


Ophiuchus had missed Medsford Park; nestled quielty in the Lincolnshire countryside, it sprawled across a somewhat hilly and private estate equipped with all those old-world necessities. A lake, an army of trees and various crypts on the northern side. It was rather bright and unchanging, though Ophiuchus preferred it more when the wether was bleak and cold. Autumn was often his favourite; the endless sea of trees turned into a robust and blinding wave of red leaves, and the air was cooler.

The Lestrange heir had only been back on the continent for about a month, and he'd made no real effort to seek out his cousins, Penelope and Caspian, though he was sure he'd get around to it. Adjusting back to English life was his priority; while in Romania he didn't spent much time thinking of British politics, and found himself having missed out on quite a bit. His father had failed to mention a few of the new policies at Hogwarts before forcing the young Lestrange to return and finish his schooling properly as a Slytherin; had Ophiuchus known, he might've chained himself to a rock and sworn to never return.

Days earlier, he'd written a letter to both of his cousins, urging them to spend the day at Medsford and keep him company; his parents had up and left off to the Highlands for a retreat, leaving their son to stalk through empty and quiet corridors like something out of Dickens. The house-elves had learned when Ophiuchus was a young boy to steer clear of him, so he hadn't had many things to do besides read, smoke and sleep.

Sprawled across an elaborate and decadent sofa, the Lestrange grunted with arrogance as he heaved himself from its emerald cushion, digging in his robe pocket for his lighter.
Jun 29 2017, 04:38 PM
Ophiuchus Lestrange





Full Name: Ophiuchus Reginald William Lestrange
Blood Status: Pureblood
Nationality: English and French
Place of Birth: Medsford Park, Lancashire
Date of Birth: June 7th, 2059
Age: 17
House and Year: Slytherin, 7th
Spoken Languages: English, French, Romanian.
Relationship Status: Not interested.


Appearance


Eyes: Peridot
Hair: Black
Height: 6'1

Look Description: Ophiuchus finds himself at an enjoyable advantage of being quite tall; quite often he finds himself towering over the other children at Hogwarts and even some adults in public. Although, he isn't obscenely tall but, nevertheless, it adds to his confidence. Bearing the trademark, black Lestrange hair, he often combs it back to keep it from his eyes. His face is rather shrewd and cut into sharp angles, and his eyes rarely ever meet his smile and remain quite cold. Most should and would find him to be both intriguing, visually, and rather handsome. His build is rather lithe and nothing too imposing.

Dressing Style: When not confined to his Slytherin robes, Ophiuchus is fond of wearing an assortment of clothing styles. With a blend of something out of an Oscar Wilde novel and Jack the Ripper, he's fond of long, swishing jackets and blouses of any pale colour, though most often lavender. As for casual wear, again, he'd enjoy any sort of vest or button-up shirt. His normal colour scheme is a combination of blacks, greys and the occasional mauve. Ophiuchus wears a signet ring on his left little finger.


Personality


Character Description: To the untrained eye, Ophiuchus might look a bit disinterested or rather tired, but in reality he's quite attentive and very fond of the little details of things. He often takes the time to memorize and remember things, even with crowds he doesn't usually run with, but, this stems from his strict childhood rule of always being polite.

Unfortunately, he doesn't always follow his parent's rules; being an outspoken purist, he carries himself with a sense of regality and privilege, often times looking more like a conceited prince than a wizard. While he is pragmatic and resourceful, Ophiuchus' temper often can get the best of him; he's rather indulgent and enjoys showing off not only his blood status and wealth, but also bullying others he deems below him.

The older he's gotten, the more restrained he's become. As a child he was a terrible bully, spewing his opinion and attempting to be a king. With age, Ophiuchus has become a more refined and toned down person; while he carries himself with a sense of regality, he is less likely to act impulsively and physically, and prefers enticing others to do so instead by insult and jeering.

Quirks: Ophiuchus is a fond lover of fencing.

Strengths: Charismatic. Resourceful. Intelligent. Pragmatic. Handsome.

Weaknesses: Smoking. Strong-headed. Proud. Deep thinker. Temper.

Likes: Smoking, friends, chess, violin, fencing, Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Dislikes: Those against him and his family, rules, and the thought of death.


Magic


Wand: Walnut, Dragon heartstring, 13 ¾", obsequious.

Strength: Possesses a flair for curses and hexes.

Weakness: Often finds a deep discomfort and loathing for the art of herbology and has set more than five mandrakes aflame. Also isn't fond of transfiguration.

Boggart: Being inferior.

Patronus: N/A; Ophiuchus has failed countless times to produce a corporeal patronus.

Patronus Memory: N/A


Family and History


Father: Charles Reginald Lestrange
Mother: Henrietta Mathilde nee Morter
Siblings: None

Pet: None

Background: The Lestrange family dates back to 14th century France as one of the most prosperous and highly respected pureblood families in the Sorciers Fédération, an early French equivalent to the British Ministry of Magic. The Fédération was lead by a system of ancient families and reigned until the coming of the muggle revolution in 1789, which had both wealthy wizarding and muggle families uprooted and destroyed.

The family found itself cast across the channel to the United Kingdom where it quickly took haste in embedding itself into the magical community. While most surviving French families languished and eventually fell to further ruin, the Lestrange family did not. They quickly took root in the English soil and raised an admirable house in northern Lincolnshire and later called it "Medsford Park."

The family's prospects greatly changed three years after their settlement, when it had finally succeeded in integrating itself into the English wizarding society and was invited to sit on the Wizengamot, albeit in a lower position. By 1796 their popularity was at an all time high, and the family matriarch, Madame Iréné Lestrange, was named Junior-Chief Warlock until her death in 1801. Her son, Ganon Lestrange, went on to hold her seat on the Wizengamot, but was not made Junior-Chief Warlock. Ganon's brother, Reginald Lestrange III was given a position on the Wizards' Council until his death in 1821.

The family experienced little drama in it's tenure in the spot-light, though in the mid 1830s, it was rumoured that the Lestrange family had an ancient library containing various dark texts and artefacts. Of course this rumor was squashed by the iron first of Ganon Lesrange--he opened Medsford Park in the spring for a grand ball, where his library was thoroughly paged through by guests curious over the whispered gossip.

Through the centuries, the notable family was known both for it's pure line and unnaturally silent stance on the thought of blood purity, though most assumed they were staunch purists, but this went unproven. Medsford Park has housed many little Lestrange children and taught them well that the family is only to be poised with regality and honour and never anything the opposite. All those who had, or were on their way to doing so, were quietly erased from the family tree.

Unfortunately, some stains cannot be lifted. Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, in the later years of the 1900s, became notable dark wizards, along with the former's wife, Bellatrix, and became iconic criminals, making the Lestrange name synonymous with radical blood purity. The family, however, did not attempt to distance themselves from the brothers, and remained in the United Kingdom until after Lord Voldemort's defeat in 1998. Following the demise of the Death Eaters, the remaining family uprooted themselves (the cousins of the brothers), and relocated to Normandy.

Waiting for the storm to ease and their reputations to be repaired, they returned to Medsford Park in 2030, and with a large sum of money and numerous charity events, the Lestranges distanced themselves from the rumours of their staunch purist veiws and regained a foothold in wizarding society, and reclaimed their seat upon the Wizengamot.

Ophiuchus Lestrange is the son of the current family patriarch, Charles, who operates as both Wizengamot seat holder and owner of the Maidstone Morgens professional quidditch team. While he initially sent his son to Hogwarts and sorted him into Slytherin, Ophiuchus took a year abroad to Romania to spend his summer and sixth year of schooling at Cocajaru, a private academy of only 68 students, buried deep within the Carpathian Mountains. Of course there he learned a vast selection of archaic, darker magics, though returned home after turning seventeen in June.
Jun 20 2016, 02:55 AM
It'd been a year since Ophiuchus left for Europe; what was supposed to be his sixth year at Hogwarts was cancelled. His father had other intentions, sending his heir to the coasts of Normandy to visit distant cousins, relax in the Swiss alps and travel a bit east to dwell in the darkest corners of Romania and Ukraine. Of course, that was only the summer. In the fall he attended a private school named Cocajaru, a bit more archaic and quite expensive, located in the deepest depths of the Carpathians. Still, Ophiuchus endured, much to his discontent. He would not be returning this autumn, though-- he was currently in the process of persuading his father to permit him to stay at Medsford and return to Hogwarts, though it seemed a bit uncertain whether or not it would work.

The young Levieux, freshly of-age, sat in the Garthscourt Gardens in Manchester-- a private, exotic gardens only accessible to witches and wizards. Utterly dwarfing the Royal Botanical Gardens of London, Garthscourt was an empire of both dangerous and beautiful, unwilting specimens, stretching forever it seemed. There was the occasional statue, unchecked in a strange moss from the South Americas, or a fountain in the shape of a witch and a screaming mandrake that played peacefully in the distance, that wailing stone mandrake spitting out a jet of water from its ugly, fat-lipped maw. The bench Ophiuchus leaned on was quite old, though was brightly painted yellow. He ran his slender fingers over the face of a harpy sculpted out of the iron armrest as he waited for Lanchester; it had been almost an age since he'd last seen him and was eager to learn the latest bit of gossip at Hogwarts since he'd up and left for the continent.

As his long coat fluttered at a small breath of June breeze, Ophiuchus' eyes languidly turned over the gardens, a cigarette gently resting in his other hand and spitting out a wisp of blue, curling smoke. His long legs were crossed, watching a couple stroll past him. He wasn't too far from the singing mandrake fountain, and in his note he'd magicked to Caspian he told him precisely where to meet him. If he wasn't going to show up soon, Ophiuchus was debating on strolling to the lower levels of Garthscourt, only to see the poisonous flora-- he had heard a rare specimen from Barbados was on display. But, of course, leave it to Lanchester to be late.
Jul 25 2015, 01:37 AM

Ophiuchus Levieux
16 | Slytherin | Asexual | Single


Blurb: Ophiuchus is an outwardly kind boy with the wings of a social butterfly; he finds himself easily intermingling with others but is pretty selective over those he mingles with. For instance, Ophiuchus is more fond of the company of his equals or betters, meaning those of great wealth, name or blood, though he doesn't really go about broadcasting this. He can be quiet and independent, though more than often is seen with his friends, of which he normally styles himself either leader or equal with his other mates.

OPTIONS:

Engaging Plots: Ophiuchus loves to plot or for lack of a better phrase, try guess the moves of others. He enjoys to watch drama unfold from a safe distance and is particularly careful, in a surgical manner almost, that he doesn't get caught in the trap when it springs.

Allies: Ophiuchus, as said previously, is more prone to be around those of any great family, wealth, or more importantly blood purity. He's basically a rich boy with only rich connections, though he's not opposed to talking to other Slytherin students.

Love: This will probably never happen. Ophiuchus is not a lover. He may flirt or toy around for the fun of it, but, he's not interested in any gender at all. He's got the sexual hunger of a teacup--none at all. Although, being a pureblood, Ophiuchus could possibly get married off by his parents for breeding purposes.

Enemies: Ophiuchus would really enjoy having an enemy, someone to constantly try to start drama or fights with him, though, he'd try awful hard to keep his stoic facade up. He'd only see it as a bit of fun.

Purebloods: Bring on pureblood drama. He'd gladly take part in any of it.



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