Nicknames: A series of unfortunate names mocking his height
Birthdate: February 6th, 1850
Current Age: 40
Occupation: Herbology Professor
Reputation: 8 - A bit of an oddball, some question whether he has some goblin blood in his veins
Residence: Hogwarts
Hogwarts House: Gryffindor
Wand: Chestnut, Phoenix feather, 7''
Blood Status: Pureblood
Social Class: Working Class Family/Middle Class Profession
Family: Grun Grunsson (Father), Juliet Grunsson (Mother)
Appearance: The first thing one notices is Gyth's height - or lack thereof, standing a mere 4 ft. 4 in. Despite this, the rest of his body remains in proportion. He began to bald in his late twenties and as he nears 40 the only hair remaining on his head huddle around his temples. Some would say his long beard, reaching to his belt, is compensation. In truth, it has more to do with laziness and general lack of interest in his apperance than anything else. His clothes are functional, often browns, blacks and greens. Reguarly with mud and soil spots. He is right handed.
History:
Born in North Wales to a working class wizarding family. Respectable, but poor. There would be no more children after Gyth was born, he proved a difficult child. Ill from a young age and of course, very short. Gyth's family were kind and loving. Neighbours, fellow children, were not so kind.
He was bullied throughout childhood. Before and during Hogwarts. Though Hogwarts provided something of an escape. He found he was a very talented student. Excelling in a number of servants, especially Herbology, Potions and Care of Magical Creatures. Herbology being, by far, his favourite. It was an odd choice, many of his fellows found it one of the more boring subjects. It was during his Second year that Herbology really grabbed his imagination.
There was a particular bully, a fellow Gryffindor. In his textbook, Gyth found that Alihotsy was could provide a solution. Sneaking ground leaves into his pumpkin juice, the bully was hysterical. Laughing uncontrollably. For hours. It was a small victory, but one he enjoyed. It propelled him into an even deeper love of plants, magic and mundane, and their myriad properties.
Being from a working class family, the need to pay tuiton and the other costs of study, hung over his early years at Hogwarts. After his first year he managed to achieve good enough grades to gain a Partial Scholarship. This was enough, just, to keep him in school until his OWLs. The constant need to study, to keep his grades up, to save his magical education only exacerbated his tendnecy to shut himself up. To work silently in the library or dormroom. His experiences of bullying meant he welcomed the ready excuse to be alone.
During the summer break after OWLs he was devastated to be told his family could no longer afford to keep him at the school. A month of stress and misery was finally ended when his results came with an offer of a Full Scholarship.
The relief was immense. In his final two years his family were able to use the extra money, freed up by a Full Scholarship, to make things a little more comfortable at home.
On leaving Hogwarts he became a travelling Herbologist. His travels took him across the world, travelling every continent, during which he discovered two dozen new magical plants. Six proved to be highly useful in potion making. Including one that is now used by St. Mungo's to treat delirium.
He loved to travel. To see the world, to be alone in the darkest forests, diving into lakes in Mongolia, or swamps in Florida. Usually alone. There was lonliness there, but also a keen sense of purpose and peace.
On his last return to England he wrote and successfully published a Herbology book. He used the money to buy his parent's a comfortable cottage on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. Finding them significantly older than when he had left, and wishing to spend more time with them, he decided his stay would be a long one. A month or so after coming to this conclusion he saw the Herbology Professor job was available.
He successfully applied, moved into the castle ready to begin teaching in September of 1890.
Personality: Gruff and to the point, Grunsson does not suffer fools lightly. He cares little for the opinion of others and has few friends, with a handful of exceptions, he prefers his own company, or the company of plants, to other humans. Reguarly bullied since childhood he does not trust easily.
Grunsson is an intelligent man and has no small ammount of pride. Dogged and determined, he overcame a lot to achieve what he has.
Despite the harsh exterior his desire to return to Hogwarts was based on kinder considerations that he would admit. If you asked him, he would probably say it was a job that allows him to continue his research while making enough money to get by. But really, he wants to share his knowledge, engite a love of herbology, and to do what he can to ensure his students have an easier childhood than he did.
Other:
Sample Roleplay Post:
With a sharp trovel Gyth dug around the blood red roots. A smile spread over his tan lined face. ''Perfect.'' He whispered. Gyth had been unsure whether the plant would take in the cold Scottish soil, it had taken months of hard work, carefully tailoring the soil, finding the perfect posision to plant the almond sized seeds. Calculating how much water it would require...even still, until this moment, he had not expected to succeed.
He let out a sigh of satisfaction. Above the surface, the plant was entirely unimpressive. A short, stubby, orange-brown lump. But below, spreading for five or six feet in all directions...it was everything he had hoped.
''Professor?''
The voice was small, tentative. Placing the trovel down, Gyth rubbed his dirt covered hands on his dirt covered brown-green robes, and turned with a sigh.
''Montague.'' The boy was a third year, with orange hair, and a face full of freckles. He was short for his age, but, of course, was taller than the diminutive herbologist. ''It is early.''
Mist still hung heavily over the castle grounds. A cold, crisp autumn morning.
''Yes, sir. I didn't mean to bother you, sir. I just had a question...about the Whomping Willow.''
Gyth's eye's opened wide. ''Stay away from it.''
He nodded quickly. ''Yes, yes. I will. But, I just don't understand, I was told it was sentient?''
Gyth nodded. ''Yes.''
''Well, how? Without a brain?''
Gyth slowly stroked his long beard. ''Now that is an excellent question.''
Montague's face was a mix of shock and happiness. Professor Grunsson rarely offered complements.
''You will enjoy year six, Montague. We will examine them in depth, of course, with a smaller specimen than we have on the grounds.'' Gyth smiled, for the second time this morning, a near record, as he saw Montague's face break out in a wide smile.
Age: 25
Contact: PM
Other Characters: [If any]
How did you hear about us?: Google