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February, 2019
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Tallygarunga: Term One, VMU: Summer Break

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An AU non-canon Harry Potter-inspired forum roleplay set in Australia.

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Ignatius Larue

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About Ignatius Larue

  • Birthday 02/24/2003

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    Ignatius Larue
  • Birthdate - Day
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  • Year Level
    Fourth Year
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  • Wand
    Rowan Wood, Dragon Heartstring, 12 1/2 Inches, Slighty Swishy
  • Patronus
    Saint Bernard

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    GMT +10

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  • Birthdate Day 24
  • Birthdate Month 2
  • Birthdate Year 2003
  • Manual Age 0
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  • Pronouns he/him
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  1. Name: Ignatius Larue House: Bourke Year Level: Four Position: Seeker Secondary Position: Keeper Interest in Interschool Team: Yes
  2. Iggy grinned, pressing a hand to his chest and exhaling loudly in a pantomime of relief. ‘Thank goodness! I would have hated to make an inadvertent faux pax on my first group showing.’ There had been nothing on the poster about bringing anyone along, but he had been naturally nervous when seeing how many other students were in pairs - and had to wonder if it was an unspoken expectation. But apparently not. When Tyson claimed that Tallygarunga had a reputation for sub-standard education, Iggy frowned in confusion. He had heard something of the opposite - but then unorthodox and strange was very much the order of the day in his family. ‘Ah. That explains why my parents were so insistent then.’ He offered a paper plate of pastries after taking one for himself. ‘They wanted me to attend school for social reasons, but they’re also a little strange so it might explain why Tally was so high on their list.’ He nibbled at his pastry, trying not to be too obvious about following Tyson's nervous movements, watching from his peripheral vision. The suit seemed too tight to be comfortable - was it borrowed? And perhaps the haircut was new to him, if he kept fiddling with it like that. ‘What do you train for?’ Something sporty maybe - Quidditch? He had been meaning to sign up for a class or a team, if there were any spots left. ‘I arrived just as term two began, so it was too late to start classes. We decided it would be better if I used the time to acclimatise to the country and the campus, give myself some space.’ He shook his head. ‘Sorry, I’m Iggy.’ He held out his hand.
  3. Iggy took another look around the halls, taking in the bright decorations, the party goers and the band playing on low as they waited for the last of the stragglers to arrive. He understood that song requests were open, but he couldn’t imagine what sort of music would be appropriate. He could already tell anything he had heard about balls was completely inaccurate - this didn’t seem to be so much a ‘ball’ as a dance party. The fact that dances could be more informal than this boggled the mind - although maybe what constituted a ‘dance’ in human culture was rather more relaxed. Either way, it was his first time at any sort of group celebration - if one didn’t count the adventurous trip to the bar a month or so ago. ‘I’m beginning to feel like my source of information was off…’ Iggy laughed. ‘I didn’t realise we were supposed to bring partners.’ His cheeks tinted red for a moment. The last he’d heard people were supposed to be introduced at balls - but in hindsight that seemed incongruous with the rest of modern culture. No one was ever introduced to anyone anymore outside of the fae courts. ‘In my defense - other magical schools are a little more formal…’ Or at least they were according to his parents. Maybe even Hogwarts had changed by now. Or maybe this was an Australian thing, that was also possible, people seemed generally more relaxed.
  4. His hair refused to cooperate today. Maybe it was the humidity, or the new shampoo, or the moon out of alignment or something. Iggy never could figure out how his hair worked, some days it seemed to grow in all directions and be somehow both too long and two short. So he’d given up, tying his hair back in a short fluffy ponytail and letting his bangs flow freely. It was still floating around his face as though he was wearing a fish bowl over his head, but at least now it was kept out of his eyes. The balls he had grown up hearing about were extravagant affairs, a careful dance with as much communicated in what was left unsaid as the words themselves. But a school ball was apparently far less perilous, so he had prepared as best he could. His hair was sprouting white water lilies again, so he’d attempted to make it look deliberate by matching his clothes. He’d chosen an asymmetrical tunic in cranberry red and white, with a pale gold sash tying it together and dull gold leggings. There was no knowing if the lilies would stay white of course, but you could only plan for so much. None of the other students present thus far had worn anything like what he’d chosen, in fact most of the male students seemed to have worn suits. If Iggy had been more aware of fashion trends he might have noticed that what he was wearing was more feminine by human standards, to the point he could easily be mistaken for female - but then fae culture had always been far less concerned with such things and he'd always looked fairly ambiguous. He didn’t recognise anybody there, so he drifted over toward the buffet table for a glass of fruit punch. The voice beside him made him start slightly, and assuming he was being spoken to he responded: 'Who did? A teacher? I didn't know this event was compulsory...'
  5. Iggy tilted his head, gaze distant for a moment as he let his mind wander through the possibilities. His specialty was in charms, which tended to lend itself particularly well to mischief. When he spoke it was softly, with a strange sort of gleam in his eyes. ‘I’ll be back here in five minutes.’ He walked away from the counter, fingers trailing briefly over its surface as he made his way through the crowd toward the restroom. Once he found himself alone he turned around on the spot, humming to himself in thought before tapping the hand dryer with his wand once and murmuring a few words. Upon entering the bar again another small spell turned all the ice cubes into tiny rubber ducks the moment a persons back was turned, so when they returned to their drink it was to find a small raft of ducklings bobbing on the surface. They were made of sugar that melted into air on the tongue, being little more than an illusion. People who got off their seats found them levitating toward the ceiling, and the ceiling lamps were suddenly framed with dozens of flowers filling the air with the scent of pollen - luckily also an illusion to avoid allergies. Finally he blew a kiss off his palm, bubbles floating through the crowd and playing musical notes once they popped. He returned to the counter and picked up his drink, carefully avoiding the floating ducks. ‘Your turn.’
  6. The mention of hexes and curses made Iggy laugh, so much so he surprised himself and had to readjust his glasses. Without realising it, Alexander had hit upon something rather familiar to him. How many times had he witnessed a pixie stealing someone’s train coins or pulling out their earbuds? His own father was particularly fond of the five dollar bill that kept fluttering out of reach. Sometimes the small annoyances were the most effective. ‘That sounds like the voice of experience~’ He grinned up at him, eyes twinkling. There was nothing he liked better than an adventure, though he hardly expected Alexander to pull something out of his hat right that second. He liked him. He seemed like it would be fun to be around. ‘It seems like this place would cause all sorts of mischief.’ He considered the crowd, wondering vaguely if there were any adults even watching. ‘Most of the teachers I’ve known watch their students like a hawk… a wicked person might feel their fingers itch when left alone like this.’ He was teasing. Mostly. Pranks were all in good fun as long as nobody got hurt and he certainly wasn’t the sort to start anything… only finish it. Really, he was appealing to whatever wild nature Alexander might possess. Iggy couldn’t do anything on his own.
  7. ‘Wouldn’t it have been better not to tell me her name at all, then?’ His tone wasn’t accusatory, spoken more as a theoretical. ‘But I’ll remember that- Misha…Right?’ He’d never been very good with names. Faces were easy to remember but he’d somewhat been trained to forget names almost as a courtesy. Some tended to stick, since his parents had conflicting views on the use of names, but others were gone like water. It shouldn’t matter with people anyway. Middle names existed for a reason. ‘It’s a pity such men exist near a school of all places.’ Iggy scrunched his face. It looked like the woman was beyond high school, but still, couldn’t children be left in peace without fear of distasteful behaviour? ‘Surely in a town full of witches there would be a spell…? A hex? … something?’ He was showing his ignorance. Iggy wasn’t really familiar with magic, despite having grown up with faeries. There was a difference between the natural environmental magic people just breathed and the formal business with wands and incantations. His hair could sometimes sprout water lillies and irises, but he couldn’t control it or even predict when it was going to happen. Likewise certain magical creatures and beings could just make things happen without a specific spell attached to it.
  8. Iggy had to wonder how the bar could possibly enforce such restrictions, surely there would be older students ordering alcohol for the youngsters. But then in such a small community it was likely the bartenders got to know the faces. Perhaps there was a form of barrier magic that could prevent younger students from entering after a certain time, or a spell that caused a glass to disintegrate if held in the hands of someone under 18… He realised he was staring into the distance while lost in thought and blinked hard to recenter himself. Don’t be weird. He looked up curiously at Alexanders offer of introductions, feeling like there was some crucial context he was missing out on. Was this a bad mood in the usual human way, or were there certain laws in place…? He’d had very little dealings with the Sidhe Courts due to his parents protectiveness, but he knew there were sometimes complicated etiquette to follow and traps to avoid. Surely that wasn’t a problem here? There were children about! They couldn’t be expected to remember such rules or how many of them would be spirited away each year…? Perhaps they all wore iron, but that seemed unlikely and discriminatory against other students. ‘… I’m not wearing any protective items, if that’s what you mean? No silver, no iron… or did you mean a different sort of approach?’
  9. Iggy hadn’t noticed Alexander’s eyes before, but once the young man accepted the offered glass he gave them a surreptitious examination in the bar lights. They were surprisingly blue, but could easily pass for simple contact lenses. He seemed like the type to add subtle little accents to his appearance here and there, though he wore no jewellery. Iggy felt the tension in his back relax a little, sipping carefully at the glass of water he’d ordered. ‘I don’t come here normally… I assumed it wasn’t allowed.’ He ran a finger along the rim of the glass. ‘It’s a little bit loud and I don’t know anyone. … the drinking age here is eighteen, yes…?’ It was hard to keep track of which laws to follow after having been in Europe for so long. He’d been allowed a sip out of his parent’s wine glass since he could sit still at a dinner table, but he had never sought out alcohol on his own or felt the need to. ‘In England, pubs are sometimes family spaces. In Australia I find myself barred from entering without ID, so I assumed…’
  10. The comment about his eyes made Iggy blush and tug his hair, adjusting his glasses in the vain hope they could hide a little more of the unusual colouring. He hated when people noticed. ‘Hnn- I get them from Cenn. Runs in the family I guess.’ He mumbled, hoping his fringe would flop enough that it would hide the odd hue. They weren’t particular fae-looking as some humans had the same shade, but they were usually peoples’ first clue. He was wondering if he should get contacts when he realised Alexander was jumping up on stage, handling the guitar like he’d been born holding it and quickly rounding up more players from seemingly nowhere. His effortless charm with the audience was impressive, Iggy wasn’t exactly shy in a crowd but he wasn’t an especially charismatic speaker either. He found himself watching Alexander for clues before the other boy burst into song. Iggy could pick out only a moment or two of stumbling and had to wonder if they had had time to rehearse the song ahead of time. Of course being skilled players, they were able to cover for each other very well. He found himself clapping the beat and mouthing the chorus along with the crowd. The song was bright and lively, if not exactly the kind of music you could dance to. It was perfect for the beginning of a party, stirring up the crowd and getting them in a celebratory mood. He smiled widely as Alexander rejoined him by the counter, offering him a mocktail he’d ordered for him during the song. Hopefully he liked coke. Most people seemed to. ‘That was great! Do you know those other people? Are you in a band?’
  11. Did other musicians lend out their instruments so easily? Iggy recalled the stern talking to he’d had as a child when he tried to play his father’s guitar without permission. An instrument was deeply personal, according to Renart, and shouldn’t be handled without permission if one could avoid it. But he wasn’t about to argue, in truth he was rather curious how it would turn out should the owner of the guitar make an appearance. He nodded thoughtfully. ‘What sort of songs do you play? I’m not very familiar with folk or country singing… Renart prefers rock or blues. Or do you play a bit of everything?’ He’d never had the aptitude or interest to keep up with music lessons, though he’d tried the keyboard when he was smaller. ‘I’m Iggy, it’s good to meet you.’ He stuck out his hand, straw still between his teeth as he smiled. ‘Break a leg up there.’
  12. ‘I’d like to hear you play.’ The diminutive boy leaning against the bar next to Alexander took a long drink from his glass, sipping through a brightly coloured straw. The drink was a tropical orange deepening to red, held in a frosted mason glass jar and topped with a bright blue umbrella. Iggy blinked up at him, pausing for a moment before adding ‘Do you think the guitar is for public use? People can be awfully protective… and you wouldn’t want to be dragged offstage by an angry musician, they’re a passionate lot and that would be quite a scene…’ He seemed to become conscious that he was rambling and pulled himself out of it with a little shake. ‘Sorry. Like I said, I would like to hear you play.’ He gave the older boy a sunny smile. The weather was still cold, but Iggy had discarded the thick wool pea coat lined in white fluff over the stool he was sitting on. He wore a loose buttoned cream shirt, navy blue skinny jeans and a number of layered necklaces. None of them were silver in deference to some of the other non-human residents of Tally. Completing the look were a pair of pointy black boots and a sprig of orange blossom in his hair, which was out of season.
  13. 4th of May Winter felt very different in the countryside, the colours were brighter and while there was a lot of mud, everything smelled so much fresher than the wet streets of Melbourne. Iggy had found a bench beneath a sail which kept him safe from the rain. He was wrapped in a school cloak, the wool bunched up around his ears and pooled in his lap. There was a large stack of books beside him from a variety of subjects. Most were second hand textbooks from at least half a dozen classes. There was also a large writing folder on top, which he had been using to take notes. There was so much to catch up on, so many assignments to complete before the next term started. But for now he was taking a break. His latest project in his lap, with a bag of fabric scraps sitting beside him. He was making a quilt with scraps of yellow and blue, with some red accents. He doubted that it would be ready for winter, but it would be nice in the warmer months. Both his parents had donated shirts to the cause, so there was something to remind him of home. Iggy adjusted his glasses as they slipped down his nose, measuring the edge of a square against his ruler. If it wasn’t straight he’d have to unpick the whole thing and start again. Did he cut a crooked piece?
Ignatius Larue
Fourth Year
15* year old Pureblood Fairy He/Him
Age:  15*
Date of Birth: February 24th, 2003
Birthplace: Australia
Blood Status: Pureblood
Species: Fairy
Player:  Shio
Pronouns: He/Him
Patronus: Saint Bernard
Wand: Rowan Wood, Dragon Heartstring, 12 1/2 Inches, Slighty Swishy

Homeschooled until his first year at Tally, which was 2019 shortly after he turned 16. He arrived on campus halfway through the previous school year and got acclimatised to campus and living by himself.

Due to his isolation and absence from regular schooling his information about human culture can be a little out of date. His parents don't interact with humans in formal situations much, so he might behave oddly out of time with the rest of the world.


Iggy doesn't like to talk about his parents, both due to the stigma associated with magical creatures and because they're both intensely private people. It's not so much a secret as an avoided subject.

Likewise he doesn't like to advertise his non-human status, but it is fairly obvious. 

General Knowledge

He has a small tabby cat called Nivianne (Nivi) who likes to sleep in his pocket and chase mice. She has really bright yellow eyes. 


Ignatius is a bit dreamy, easily distracted by a book or something new, which can make conversation with him difficult at times. He’s often to be found daydreaming and often takes a moment to respond when spoken to. This lack of attention means it’s fairly easy to get him to agree to something without realising it. 
Occasionally he can be quite sarcastic when angry or annoyed, usually when someone insists on distracting him from his work. But he rarely holds such behaviour against others, and if you can get his attention he can be an excellent listener. 

He can be forgetful of the time which can severely impact his marks, though he adapts well enough to tests that he usually squeezes through. Practical work can be a bit of a challenge for him when he's under pressure to perform, but he flies through written work with ease.

He’s always been a follower rather than a leader, but his curiosity leads him to hang around with ‘troublemakers’ even if he doesn’t directly take part in their adventures. He has a spirit of exploration buried deep inside him and will often ineffectively hide behind a book when trying not to seem interested.
Of course sometimes this means he’s left holding the baby when things get sticky, but he possesses an uncanny ability to talk his way out of almost anything. He’d never use these powers for evil, oh no definitely not.
He has something of a blind spot in romantic situations, it’s easy to make him flustered or embarrassed. He’s easy to tease and tends to get quite tongue tied. 

Ignatius is kind, but often misunderstands a lot of social expectations. There have been times when he has inadvertently upset someone by trying to hard to be a ‘good friend,’ or accidentally bypass boundaries. He might bring someone flowers when they’re feeling sad, leading to misunderstandings and trouble along the line.
If someone does manage to make him angry, it’s usually as a result of someone hurting someone close to him, or someone injuring themselves or others through carelessness. He can get quite worked up in these situations and it takes a lot to calm him down. He can hold a grudge for days on end and it can be a while before he’ll let go of his anger.
When holding a grudge he can be rather childish, refusing to speak to someone until they have admitted fault, or more likely bribing him with something he likes or his favourite treat (Nougat.)

Iggy likes cold weather, thunderstorms, high places and animals. In his spare time he likes to find a high place to read, because they tend to be deserted. His strengths in magic lie in defensive spells and charms, as well as caring for animals and plants. He's rubbish at transfiguration and divination, and despite his enjoyment of the subject he is only marginally competent in potions. 

His hobbies are ink painting and sewing, though he also makes felted animals and enjoys flying.


Ignatius is a little short for his age and rather thin, with long fingers and small feet. His skin is a warm dark brown, with prominent freckles here and there on his cheeks, forehead and chin. His large eyes are bright amber and are noticeably darker around the outer edges of the iris. He has untidy eyebrows and thick wavy black hair with a fringe falling well over his forehead. His ears stick out a bit and are noticeably pointed, though he tries his best to hide this fact in order to pass as human.

He is a bit far sighted, so he wears a pair of large square silver rimmed glasses, and often forgets when he has them tucked down the front of his shirt or pushed high on his head. They tend to fall down onto his nose unexpectedly and he has a habit of shifting them nervously, as if trying to hide his eyes. He sometimes has trouble with eye contact and fidgets a lot.

During rainy weather his hair has a tendency to behave strangely, waving around as though underwater. Sometimes it also reacts comically to magical fields, frizzing up or falling in his eyes or otherwise misbehaving.


Ignatius was initially born in Australia and raised by his two parents, Cassiel and Renart. Both parents had very different ideas on how to raise a child and it was something of a ridiculous adventure for both of them, as parenting so often is. Cassiel was the sensitive, down to earth sort who helped with his homework and Renart was the one who’d encourage him to have fun, even sometimes pulling him out of school to go off on a wild adventure somewhere. 
Both his parents are Daoinan Sidhe, which meant Ignatius' upbringing was steeped in wild magic and the inner politics of the fae. 
(Note: Renart is male and the ‘father,’ where Cassiel is non-binary and usually referred to by name or cenn in place of mum/dad, coming from cennend, an old English word for ‘parent.’)

‘Iggy’ naturally takes the most after Cassiel, being studious and serious much of the time. But Renart has also instilled in him a hidden sense of adventure. He finds his curiosity can be stressful to keep under control at times, as he feels he has to behave. With enough coaxing he can be convinced to come along for a variety of adventures, so long as no one is likely to get hurt.

Both his parents worked much of the time but did their best to stay home when they could. Renart is an Auror which means he are often at work, or travelling around the world where different jobs pop up. Cassiel seems to dabble in many areas of employment, including arts, but their passion is animal conservation. 
Ignatius was homeschooled by his parents until recently, as their travels made it impossible for him to stay at school for more than a few weeks at a time. They used approved textbooks and course material from a variety of curriculums, so he found he was able to pass the fourth year entrance exams for Tally.
His parents have a house in both Sydney and London, as their respective jobs often require travel between Australia and the UK. 

They keep in touch with Ignatius via Ophelia, Cassiel’s Barn Owl, and Hoodwink the Eagle Owl. Neither went with Ignatius to Hogwarts as both parents need them for work, but they have promised to send them with letters.

Iggy is most looking forward to learning how to play Quidditch, because although he had flying lessons from his parents he has never had the chance to really hone his skills. He enjoys flying a great deal whenever he can get the chance.