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Full Character Name: Asher Tristram Grin
Character Birthday & Age: May 14, 1997
City & Country of Birth: Thurton, South Norfolk, England, UK
Pureblood, Halfblood or Muggleborn: Halfblood
House & Year: Ravenclaw 2nd Year

Wand: 7.5 inches, English Oak, core unknown--thought to be Demiguise Hair
(Asher's wand is one of several family heirlooms, and though slightly battered usually works well for Ash.  It sometimes acts up when Asher is slightly excited or distracted.)

Physical Description: Asher is on the taller side of average for his age, with summer tanned skin and a galaxy of large brown freckles.  He wears his wavy, fawn-brown hair a few inches long and quite shaggy as a testament to his father's skills with the shears.  His eyes are an unremarkable hazel with little green flecks and are often seen through a pair of rectangular grey-green reading glasses that lend him an air of solemnity beyond his years.  When he smiles, as he often does, he reveals a set of slightly crooked teeth, the bottom being worse than the top.  This, in addition to his "honest ears" and heart-shaped face, make it almost impossible to imagine him as anything other than a little boy.

Personality Description: Asher Grin has the energy of a nuclear power plant and the destructive power of a small atom bomb--in short, he's nothing less than your average, hyperactive 12 year old boy with a bonus passion for anything really gross that he can get up to his elbows in.  However, growing up in the backwaters of nowhere has also taught him the value of a good book, and once he stops bouncing off the walls, he can be remarkably methodical and insightful.  He makes friends easily and remains loyal despite any falling-out which may occur, though he typically refuses to "forgive and forget."  His grudges tend to be fierce and long-lived, and though he doesn't anger easily, he will eventually lose his temper, usually when least expected.  He also has a tendency towards gullibility, though maybe "true until proven wrong" might be a more accurate description.  Either way, it makes it very easy to take advantage of him. 

History: Asher Tristram Grin was born in Witch's Cottage, The Street, Thurton on May 14, 1997 to Della (née Attwater) and Cassidy Grin.  Della was one of a long line of hedge witches who had served Thurton as midwife, psychologist, consultant and con-artist all rolled into one since time immemorial.  Cassidy was a neo-druid (formerly Jewish) muggle who'd gotten lost in Thurton 7 years previously while recording key-lines and never left.  Together they run the Witch's Cottage as an isolated B&B servicing wizards and witches on holiday, as well as giving Della space to carry on performing the old services to locals in need, on the down-low, of course.  As Della had never attended Hogwarts, she finds it ever more important that her son does, and she continues to take an active interest in her son's academics. 

Growing up, Asher had some trouble finding friends in a village of 565 muggles (he and his mother were the only magical talent the village could claim).  Though his father took it upon himself to take young Asher to village events and play dates, the older he got, the more his magical accidents got in the way.  Then the other children started grade school and it was all over.  Instead, Asher made friends with the tourists who came and went from the Witch's Cottage: odd couples on honeymoon, harried ministry workers looking for some cheap peace, and of course, families of all sizes.  He picked up an education the way some children pick up dirt, and was soon making ill-advised attempts at various spells with little success.  In addition to his magical education, Cassidy's sister Sarah, a muggle chemist, made frequent visits to the isolated boy.  She encouraged Asher's scientific mind, and taught him how to blow things up with common household substances. 

When Asher got his invitation to Hogwarts a year and a bit ago, Della was ecstatic, Cass was skeptical and Sarah wasn't told much of anything.  He made his first trip to Diagon Alley in search of school supplies.  Unfortunately, the family couldn't afford an owl, Asher was allergic to cats and couldn't be trusted with a toad, so he went home without one of the iconic pets the wizard world is famous for. 

His first year at Hogwarts went swimmingly.  He excelled in Herbology and Potions, did fair-to-middling in his other classes and was kicked out of Transfiguration for messing about.  Though the sorting had placed him in Ravenclaw for his natural curiosity and passion for learning, his tendency to bounce off walls and create enormous messes in the name of progress has some people grumbling he might have done better in Gryffindor.

Compared to his year at Hogwarts, summer in The Street was painfully dull.  Not allowed to do magic, he opted instead to spend his vacation with the chemistry set his aunt had given him.  Finally, he returned to Hogwarts for his second year of magical study, despite some objections by his father on the grounds that traditional schooling was too restrictive, blah, blah, blah.  Of course, his mother, Asher and even his out-of-the-loop muggle Aunt overruled this.

Classes:

Core Classes Astronomy Charms Defense Against the Dark Arts Herbology History of Magic Potions Transfiguration Flying

Electives No No No No No

How Do You Fit Into Your House?: The Sorting Hat chose to place Asher in Ravenclaw as his fascination with learning and experimentation was readily apparent.  Hufflepuff and Gryffindor were both close seconds, the former because of Asher's optimism and typically generous nature and the latter because of Asher's nose for trouble and occasional foolish bravery.  Slytherin was only briefly considered, and only because Asher's penchant for manipulating nature is partially inspired by a not-so-subtle lust for power.

Writing Sample: It was summer and according to the radio, temperatures had just breached 17 degrees in Norwich, though Asher suspected the warm weather didn't extend to Thurton.  The Witch's Cottage by The Street was still quite chilly by mid-afternoon, but in a pleasantly refreshing way that kept off the traditional summer lethargy.  It had been raining on and off and the Grin's shaggy lawn sparkled with errant raindrops.  Asher had set up shop under a tarpaulin, and was experimenting with the magical equivalent of a bunsen burner when voices interrupted his concentration.

"Are you quite sure you know what you're doing?"  The voice, though still muffled by distance, had that piercing nasal quality that some mothers used to nag through stone.  He didn't catch the reply, but could hear the weary, put-upon tone quite clearly.  "Just admit it, Henry, you're lost.  We should have stopped to ask for directions at the last village.  And the kids are starving."  Another unintelligible reply, this one annoyed and defensive.  Lazily, Asher turned his eyes skyward to where a highly suspicious cloud had taken to hovering over the cottage.  Had he not just spent the last of his allowance on 650 ml of pure ammonium, he would have bet his money that behind the cloud was a family of lost wizards on a sky-trip (similar to a road trip, but on broomsticks). 

"Mo-ther!" he called, "Guests!"  He paused a moment, and when his mum didn't immediately appear, he remembered that Mrs. Griswold had stopped in for tea and a chat about her son Ned.  As Mrs. Griswold was capable of chatting anyone's ear off while simultaneously spraying them with biscuit, Asher got to his feet and went in search of his father.  Aside from being chatty, the Griswolds were muggles through and through, and they couldn't afford letting any of them see house guests arriving by broomstick.

His father was in his shed, or as his mum called it, the den, or as his father called it, the temple.  Aside from an altar covered in gardening tools, however, the temple or den looked a lot more like a shed to Asher.   All in all, it wasn't much larger than a garage and the years had cluttered it with unwanted or damaged furniture, which further years had filled with four or five generations of junk. 

"Dad?" he called, leaning on the door.  Sometimes his father didn't like to be interrupted, and sometimes Asher didn't like to interrupt him.  Having a druid for a father could be difficult, not to mention interesting. 

"Come in, Ash," his father enthused, his voice strained by excitement.  "I think I'm on the verge of reconstructing the ancient rite of--" something unpronounceable.  Asher just hoped it didn't involve animal sacrifice. 

"Sorry, dad, but we've got some guests circling . . ."

"Oh!  Oh!  Um, could you stall them for just a minute?  I'll be right out."

"I don't think they need any stalling--they can't find us.  Again."

"Oak and acorns!" which Asher understood was his father's equivalent of "Balls!"

Asher stood aside as his father rushed out, shedding ceremonial robes as he went.  His father took a very unorthodox approach to druidism, even for a druid.  Most neo-druids, as he understood it, were content to commune with nature and shun religious dogma.  And maybe his father would have continued along that route, had he not met Asher's mother.

Following a few strides behind his father, Asher kept an eye on the sky.  The suspicious looking cloud remained, the sounds of familial discord raining down from the heavens.  His father stepped out into the middle of the lawn and began to fiddle with his watch.  His mother had an identical device and they did the same thing--adjusting the glamour disguise that hid the Witch's House from unwanted attention.  His great-grandfather had apparently purchased the device during WWII, worried about bombers.  Since then it had hidden the family from satellites and kept them off GoogleEarth.  Now the sky shuddered violet and the conversation above them fell silent after a wordless exclamation. 

With the wards down, they could now both see and hear the Witch's Cottage.  It probably went towards explaining where the smell of baking bread had been coming from.

"Excuse me," his father called, hands cupped around his mouth.  "But are you looking for a place to stay?  Because we offer very reasonable rates--"

A five year old crash-landed in the shrubbery.  Its mother followed it down as the father sank to the ground, apologizing profusely.  The Bones family had arrived.  Asher smiled.  Maybe his summer wouldn't be quite so dull after all . . .

Sum up your character in one paragraph: 2nd Year Hogwarts student Asher Grin is a delightful (read "horrifying") cross between studious nerd and studied troublemaker.  Most of his teachers end up deducting as many points for the explosions as they grant him for right answers and aren't sure whether the boy is unsettlingly keen or annoyingly disruptive.  As for his fellow Ravenclaws, many wonder whether he's in the right house or whether he should even be allowed inside at all, considering his penchant for blowing things up.  Still, his friends know him for his loyalty, infectious optimism and remarkable patience, though when that runs thin, it's best to steer clear.  Don't expect that to save you though, if you really tick him off: he's got a long memory for grudges and, for better or for worse, he's not exactly subtle--about anything.