Welcome to TB, an all levels Harry Potter roleplay with no word count. Our purpose is to go through the books with one exception: the addition of original characters and what changes that makes.
We accept all beings and creatures in the Harry Potter verse including ghosts, veela, muggles and even centaur.
We have many active events ongoing for both students and adults and many characters and locations around the world.
Come join us and discover how your character can grow and evolve in the world of Harry Potter.
'It could be brighter', Angus thought, as he ascended the spiral staircase that seemed to never end. He had no idea how long he'd been climbing, and no idea how much he had left to climb. The owlery was here though, in this tower. He knew it. Reaching into his robes, he pulled out the letter he had written his father. He gave the letter a few twirls in his hands as he went over the letter in his head.
Angus had told his father Andris almost everything there was to tell. How overwhelmed he was by being a Hufflepuff, And the common room?! Chef's kiss. The forest, and how it tempted him. The Lake. OOOOOOOOOh The lake. When Angus had gotten his wand at Frost's they had explained to him and his father that he had a Kelpie hair core. How it was average in most cases, but got stronger when near water. Angus could feel it. Just like when his wand touched his hand and he felt the magic surge, he could feel it next to water. Without even being that close, but Angus always wanted to be close. Growing up in Glasgow, Andris would always take Angus to Loch Lomond just north of where they lived, and from a very young age, Angus loved the water. They would camp there on one of the Loch's many islands, and it was always Angus' favorite memories. So naturally, he made sure to let his father know exactly how much time he spent, and how his magic felt at the lake. He doubted his father would be surprised.
Angus spoke of his classes, Charms being his favorite so far. Although, Transfiguration seemed fun. Not even to mention Herbology. Angus had assumed he'd be more excited for Herbology, but his father ran his own Apothecary outside Glasgow, so Angus was familiar with most of the basics they had learned so far. He yearned for the more advanced stuff, but knew it was coming. Sighing as he ran through everything he'd told his father, he wondered when he'd reach the top, and then as if magic, the doorway to the owlery appeared. He rolled his eyes, and stepped inside.
They were everywhere. Owls of every shape, size, species, and color. Glancing around the huge domed room, he wondered how people figured out which owl to use. Unless they brought their own? Holding the letter up, Angus hunched a bit and carefully walked towards the nearest owls "Wud Any o' yu wanna take ma letter?" He asked the nearest owls. One of them, a medium sized brown owl pulled its head from under its wing and chirped at him. Such a cutie. Stepping closer, the owl held its leg out, and just as Angus started to tie the letter to it's leg, the door to the owlery sung open.
Writing home was a requirement. Arthurus's mother had requested he keeps in touch. The muggle woman was still new to the idea of magic and had trouble understanding it. She did her best and Arty was devoted to making sure his mother didn't worry. That was the exact reason he was maneuvering the west tower, ascending the flights of stairs in a circle. "Dizzyin' sometimes." It was spoken softly as he continued on his way. It took far too long every time he would trek it but he was determined. Arriving at the top, he took a moment to inhale sharply. Letting himself catch his breath before he moved into the room. "Hello there." Arthurus smiled and wiggled his right finger as he entered to approach a group of owls. "You wouldn't happen to have yer quill on ya, do ya?" In his hands was the envelope and he had forgotten to put his mother's name on the front. "Forgot ta add mum's name." He shook his head as he looked at each of the owls. "Marcellus, there ya are." A nearly fully black owl was cleaning his feathers as Arthur offered him a simple treat. Marcel nearly cooed with delight and nibbled at it. Before devouring the treat and Arthur gently stroked his feathers as he turned back to the boy. "Who is it yer writin' ta?" He asked curiously.