Post by Casey Winslow on Nov 19, 2014 0:04:59 GMT -8
Name:
Casey Thomas Winslow
Age & Birthday:
30|12 January, 1978
Bloodline:
Pureblood
Personality:
Casey's changed quite a bit from that schoolboy in Hogwarts thirteen years ago. Once at least willing to joke around and goof off from time to time and do the occasional 'daring' escape from the school with Evie, he is now reclusive and depressed and he rarely smiles. What could cause such a drastic difference in an individual? Simple. Years of self-sacrifice and difficult trials in the within his own marriage and in the fight with Voldemort. Being on the inside of Voldemort's ranks forever changes a man, and as much as one tries to flee from that reality, it's in vain. Guilt always catches up no matter what. The person has to choose to overcome it with or without help, ultimately, but constant denial of there being a problem leads to its progression.
Unfortunately Casey fits into the latter and as a result, he's lost himself. Confidence has literally eroded over time, if it was ever truly there again after it all to begin with, and self-doubt and hate have settled in. To top it all off is paranoia. He's convinced that the events eight years ago weren't the end of the conflict. With Death Eaters having escaped imprisonment on mere technicalities or lies, how could they have been? Those who stuck around for he-who-must-not-be-named's third return were obviously loyal to him and their cause. He doubted all of them returned out of fear. He figures there's nothing to keep them from trying to exact revenge against traitors such as Jamie and himself as well as the Order. So, he's constantly looking over his shoulder.
Believing it a fairly understandable, reasonable, and possible fear, he's fostered it despite never intending to do so, and anyone telling him to let go of it is disregarded as simply not understanding and having his own agenda in mind. Casey fears the moment he dares to up and move on and hope for a better future, he'll find his then-abandoned fear coming true. So, despite being only thirty, he feels like an eighty-year-old conspiracy theorist who believes everyone's out to get him and at times he thinks, speaks, and acts like it. Loathing of himself for that and not being able to move on as well as the fear itself have helped shape and further his depression and sink him into the rut he's in now.
Guilt for things done while undercover as a Death Eater as well as nightmares of or stemming from that time in his life help keep him weighted down. He feels he deserves death for them even if he had no real choice in the matter if he wished to return home to his wife and eventually his unborn child as well. He feels he was selfish in allowing others to suffer when he could have stopped it at the cost of blowing his cover and losing his life.
But perhaps some of that sentiment stems from the events three years later in which Evie ended up tortured both mentally and physically, rendering her incapable of handling much of anything for months. He felt and still feels responsible for that. If only he’d told her about the dreams implanted each night about the strange woman. Maybe talking about them with her would have kept him from the bottle, but they’d been arguing so much at the time because of her joining Voldemort that he feared it’d be the final push that would push her away forever. After all, Voldemort had so easily provoked her doubt of his fidelity to get her to join.
Little had he known that choosing the bottle would lead to the question being raised and confirmed. If he’d never gone to drink to deal with marital problems and nightmares, then he’d never have met Morgana, and if he’d never met Morgana, he would never have been drugged, and if he’d never been drugged, Evie wouldn’t have walked into The Three Broomsticks and seen what she had, and if she hadn’t seen what she had, Trey would never have had the open door to get to his wife, so ultimately her suffering all that year and at the end of that year especially was his fault—even if he had tried so hard to get her to listen and take him back. Therefore, it would have been better for her if he had died. Evie might have recovered from her problems for the most part, but he has yet to shed his guilt—the selfsame guilt that has him down in the dumps.
Memory of what he once was and recognition that he has become something he hates has also furthered his pain. He misses being able to enjoy time with his family and with his wife to the fullest. He misses wanting to go out with Evie and enjoy a night with just the two of them. He misses being more or less carefree and laid back. He misses laughter and the feeling of happiness. He misses feeling like he could take on the world and acting in accordance (even if that was what caused him to make the worst mistake in his life—joining the Order in the first place). He misses being able to connect to people on a personal level, but he feels helpless to overcome the cynicism and hypercritical way he acts at times. He wishes the perfectionism could go back to judging only his own things, but he doesn’t feel capable of putting forth his best effort, and he hates that. It frustrates him.
Yet, Casey is still in denial. He doesn’t want help even though he was cutting and did have a suicide attempt (several, really, just one was bigger than the rest and he was caught at it). He doesn’t want help despite the fact that he feels like he’s been in the doghouse when it comes to Evie since she caught him during those things. He hates the feelings towards her he gets because of feeling like she’s trying to lord over him and the feeling that he’s a captive. The only thing that keeps him from walking out that door is the children. He wants to stay in their lives, and he knows if he leaves, she’ll be able to tip them off to these attempts, and if given a psychiatric evaluation, he doubts he’d manage to pass. He can’t lose them, so he stays despite feeling like he’s lost Evie already.
Those who knew him off and on throughout the years before this change occurred likely remember him as being quiet unless talked to or having something important to say or something important going on in his life. Some might regard him as foolish while others might regard him as brave. Many likely regard him as daring and having a quick temper and unafraid of speaking his mind; maybe it could also be regarded as rebellion and having no regard for authority. Moody, on more occasions, than one was on the receiving end of his rants, often comparing the older man to Voldemort himself even.
He was passionate about Quidditch, yet at the same time passionate about ridding the world of Voldemort and the likes of his followers. He was most passionate about his wife and her safety given their history, perhaps even bordering, if not crossing, the line of obsession when it came to that. He was willing to do whatever it took to keep her out of harm’s way, and in many ways the unplanned first pregnancy at nineteen had made him happy in such a way amongst other, more natural reasons.
He was willing to live a little and be sporadic, taking impromptu trips with his wife before they had kids and other things began to complicate such things over time. He loved books, wished their lives could be as uncomplicated as those of some of the characters he read about, though those far and few between. He wished that they could have a happy ending despite the seeming never-ending story that their lives had become with their involvement in the Order and the fight with Voldemort. He loved teaching others about Defense, feeling fulfilled in simply passing onto others things that could be useful for their futures, given the threats at that time.
Height:
5'10"
Hair:
Brown
Eyes:
Beautiful, hard-to-describe blue
General Appearance:
Wand:
Holly, 11" unicorn hair
Pet:
Family pets (Saleel [owl], Felix [cat]), Paco (Macaw)
Worst Class(es) were:
History of Magic (P, took it all years by his father's demands)
Best Class(es) were:
DADA (even 6th and 7th year, in which Moody was there and the next Umbridge, Moody not believing his claims, and Umbridge restricting his learning, as he saw it, but he still got O's, not wanting to upset his parents--dad esp.--anymore than he already had), Transfiguration (E's), Flying (excelled in the class when he had the class first year, joining the team as seeker not long after third year had begun, eventually making it to Captain his last year), Potions (mediocre, As, mainly only because of the professor that taught it all his years there, couldn't get much into the class, besides, having to deal with math wasn't his thing)
Special Ability:
Dog animagus (Labrador Retriever)
Special Item:
Nada
Special Position:
Head of Ravenclaw
Class Teaching:
Defense Against the Dark Arts
Marital Status:
Married, Evelyn (Evie) Winslow
Children:
Julian Winslow (11, blue eyes, brown hair), Lydia Winslow (6, brown eyes, brown hair)
History:
Casey Thomas Winslow was born on January 12, 1978 at 4:32 a.m., 5 lbs., 11 oz., 18 1/2" long to Paige (Thomas) Winslow and Mark Winslow. He was the ninth and last child of the couple, brought into the world with 11-yr-old Christopher, 9-year-old Gladys, 7-year-old Laura, 5-year-old Jack, 3-year-old Chance, and 3-year-old Millicent in the waiting room with their Aunts Darleen, Marsha, and Amy and Uncles Joel, Leeroy and David as well as their cousins 1-year-old Sam and 4-year-old Michael and their Grandmothers Mary and Lauren and Grandfathers Logan and James, all but the youngest few eagerly expecting the announcement of his safe arrival. All but Chris and Gladys and the adults were asleep, Chris and Gladys keeping each other awake by playing, having to be told constantly to keep quiet, their baby cousin was sleeping and their younger siblings. Like a broken record, adults were.
Finally at 4:32 a.m., everyone almost nodding off, the door could be heard opening, and everyone who was still hanging onto consciousness practically jumped, some standing, the rest sitting. Chris and Gladys were the first to go in, being the new baby's siblings. Both were only allowed to look at the new baby, considering the time, but soon they had to leave and the adults took turns, holding him.
'He's not fussy, Paige; that's good,' his grandmum had told his mum while holding his newborn form in her arms.
His mum had been all smiles. She knew the work that would be involved, but that didn't matter at the moment. She'd enjoy her son, spoil him when she could. He was her baby boy.
Casey, however, ended up being the one baby that seemed to have all the problems. Colic, ear infections, caught nearly everything that went through the house. Usually she'd managed to keep the babies from catching things, but it seemed no matter how hard she tried, no matter what precautions, Casey caught everything. Therefore, he was pretty much her fussiest baby, but she couldn't blame him. This only caused her to be overprotective of him, made her take interest in every aspect of his life. Her baby boy wasn't going to suffer anymore after that tough first five years of life.
Growing up, Casey could get away with almost everything that happened between himself and a sibling, seeing as Paige figured he was least likely to be the instigator, as that was how it had often been between herself and her sister, Darleen. Seems she overlooked the fact that Darleen had often annoyed her. Though this would seem to give the tendency that Casey would have grown up acting like a spoiled brat, he didn't really. Instead, he chose to be pretty quiet, rarely really instigating any fights between himself and his siblings. It was better that way. Less of a chance of their ganging up on him. Plus, his dad was enough to scare anyone into a hole and make him refuse to come out, so he figured out that being quiet and submissive was more advantageous in the long run at a fairly young age.
Entering Hogwarts was an exciting time for Casey. He looked at it as a way to get away from his siblings and parents (mostly parents) and also learn how to do magic like they could. Get back at them after a year, he would. On the train he stuck close by his cousin Sam Winslow, who was a second year Ravenclaw, seeing as Milli and Chance’s friends were much more intimidating since they were so much older. In reality, he actually tried hanging out with Milli, but her friends had done the embarrassing ‘Aww…he’s so cute!’ thing and they both had a mutual understanding that he had to get the hell away, even if they were for two very different reasons.
When they arrived at the Hogsmeade station, Casey followed Hagrid like so many others had done before him. Getting into the boat with a few icky girls, he felt squeamish and for more reasons than the fact that girls had cooties. Water wasn’t his thing. He was terrified of it and didn’t know how to swim and was afraid of drowning in it should he fall out or the Giant Squid Chance had told him liked to eat little first years with blue eyes and brown hair decide he looked like dinner. In fact, he even put on a hat made of aluminum foil that his brother had told him would ward the thing away. The girls had giggled at him, and he had turned red and shrunk down, taking the thing off and tossing it into the lake before resuming paddling, his head down and eyes staring at his black robes, or what he could see of them in the darkness, as he listened to the girls chatter.
By the time they reached the castle, Casey was too tired, cold, and hungry to care about the things the girls noticed about it, and he more or less stayed off by himself as he walked with the group behind Hagrid to the chamber where they waited outside the Great Hall. When a woman with a face that reminded him of a fish introduced herself as Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, also the Head of Gryffindor and transfiguration professor, his attention was drawn immediately to her, taking in every word of her speech with the sense that what she had to say was important or she wouldn’t be there right now. He didn’t want to be caught off guard and look stupid out there since he knew that he’d be before the whole school. That alone made his stomach do cartwheels. The thought of tripping over his own two feet or his robes, which were almost too long made it do back flips.
When told to line up, Casey moved to do so like some sort of loyal dog, being pushed out of the way by the group of forty amassing first years. He wound up second in line after all was said and done, much to his dismay. As he walked across the stage, a loud cheer rose from the Slytherin table from his brother Chance as well as something to the effect of, “Make me proud, baby brother!” His sixth year brother Jack and his fourth year sister Milli countered that cheer in favor of their own respective houses. He chewed back his lip, feeling his cheeks burn a bright red as he looked towards his standing brother before he himself slid up onto the tall stool and felt McGonagall put the hat onto his head. The thing contemplated Hufflepuff for a moment but quickly declared after a few “Hmm…I see” type of phrases, “Ravenclaw!”
The table cheered him on, and Casey walked towards the table, not looking anyone in the eyes as he searched for Sam and slid in to sit beside him. He rested his elbows on the table and his face in his hands. That had been the bravest moment in his life so far—at least that he could remember. He was glad it was over, and he had to recover from the shock. He could have sworn he would have a heart attack, the way his heart had been racing. But after a few moments of having his face covered, he brought his arms down and watched the rest of the ceremony, talking with Sam from time to time and wondering when it was that the meal would be served. He was famished!
His first class was potions with Professor Snape and it was Ravenclaws and Slytherins. When he rose his hand and got the answer correct and continued to raise his hand, ‘nerd’ and ‘show-off’ were the milder names that the Slytherins called him after class after pretending to want to be his friend. Chance hadn’t warned him about Slytherins being so mean-spirited. Milli had, but his brother had reassured him that Slytherins weren’t all that bad. Now he was sure his brother had been lying or was crazy. Rejected, Casey had made his way back to his common room for his free period.
He made a few friends that year, but he was mostly around his cousin, who likely didn’t mind it sometimes but other times felt him a tag-along. Casey couldn’t help it. He knew Sam wouldn’t be mean. They were cousins, and they knew each other, and during holidays and other times during the year they’d always got along. Grades had been excellent that year, but he excelled at flying, and his parents had sent him a few rewards. First, it was an owl, which had, unfortunately, been sent out only a few times before a larger bird of prey took it out. That, or it decided to run away and never returned. Now-a-days, Casey figures the prior is more likely than the latter.
His next year was about as interesting as the watching a cow for days on end eating grass, laying down, resting in the shade aside from Jack’s graduation at the end of the year. He made a few new friends, kept up his good grades, drifted a little more from Sam, and all was well and good in the world for him as he settled more into the school. He knew to avoid Slytherins, to look out for two of the red-heads in Gryffindor who were likely to pull some pranks, and what not to do in order to continue on his detention-free path. He also learned that no Defense teacher made it past one year, seeing as they had a new one this year and the last one had apparently ran for his life after an unfortunate accident in which his face was severely disfigured amongst other reasons.
During his third year, Harry Potter made it to the school, which intrigued Casey. After all, who didn’t know about the boy-who-lived? Even he was guilty of trying to get a glimpse of that scar on more than one occasion. It was like having one’s favorite superhero prove to be real and not fiction. Naturally, he had known Harry was real to begin with, but this was so strange to actually see him and meet him in person. The school was abuzz with the latest Harry had done, and Casey was guilty of keeping up with it even if he didn’t pass the gossip along. He knew how twisted some stuff could get.
This was also the year that he first joined the Ravenclaw Quidditch team as seeker. The try-outs were shaky, but overall he must’ve done the best job. It was probably due to his slender frame and generally smaller size, which gave him the edge of quickness and agility that his competitors couldn’t have. When first year Harry Potter gained the spot opposing him on the Gryffindor team, it did nothing for Casey’s nerves, and he dreaded the game with Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor all season long, and when it finally came, Potter was out of commission. He felt stupid then, worrying all that year. Gryffindor had to forfeit and the game was in their favor.
His fourth year was filled with fear as the deadly Basilisk was released from the Chamber of Secrets. The uncertain murmurings between the professors set him on edge, not certain what was going on exactly other than students and ghosts alike being found stunned. He never came face to face with the creature, nor did he do much to figure out what was going on. He simply traveled in groups with his fellow Ravenclaws to classes, meals, and other things, and spent a lot of time outdoors. He was scared, dreading what might happen to him, not giving much heed to the bloodlines of the people being attacked. For all he knew it was a professor or that creepy janitor Filch. Everyone always joshed that he was secretly a homicidal maniac seeking refuge under guise of a caretaker.
His mum, on more than one occasion, wrote to him to see if he didn’t want to come home and finish out the year under her instruction. His answer was always ‘no.’ As much as he wanted out, he knew his mother would do him no good. He’d be worlds behind the rest of the students, and she’d baby him too much. Besides, Chance would call him a pansy, and he still lived at home. Pride? No, really? He waded through the year, keeping his marks up as he buried himself completely into the work he had to do to forget his own nervousness. Exams finally came around, his marks staying high as usual, and then finally the end of the year was approaching and the mystery was solved. A basilisk.
The very name of the creature made a shiver of excitement but at the same time of anxiety go up his spine. He knew about them. He’d read about them once in a Care of Magical Creatures textbook Jack had had. Snakes were his favorite creatures, and well, the idea of the basilisk was enthralling. One creature holding so much power to it despite being so venomous it shouldn’t require such abilities? It was humbling, all the same. He could have died, and he didn’t want his mum and dad to know, but his dad worked at the Ministry. He’d have heard regardless if any word was sent from the school to the parents. End of the year festivities ensued, feeling much more light-hearted now that the threat was gone.
He’ll never forget how tightly his mum clung to him when he arrived at the London station that year. It was embarrassing, and at the same time, he felt sorry for her. She’d had to sit all year worrying about him from the time of the first attack, and now she was here, holding onto him for dear life, sobbing tears of, from what Casey could figure, relief and happiness to have her baby boy home alive. For once in his life, he didn’t protest her hugs. It felt the same way to him, even if he was less expressive about it to her than the rest. Milli was equally as excited when he walked through the front door with their parents. She told him how worried she was, which he’d gathered by her lengthy letters that rambled—something he knew she only would do speech-wise if she was highly nervous about something.
Summer could not have ended any sooner for Casey. He loved his family and knew they meant well, but they were all over him and hardly would give him a second alone. He heard the words ‘I love you’ more often than he had ever heard them in his lifetime prior to that summer, and it was getting to the point that he was taking them for granted and saying them more habitually and out of duty than anything else. It was a fun trip through Diagon Alley that year. He received a new broom for Quidditch, and he knew had it not been for all that had happened the school year prior, he would never have gotten it. They wanted him to be as safe as possible, and he felt guilty as they put the broom up on the counter to be bought. He tried to talk them out of it. “Mum, really, I don’t need it.” Didn’t work. Why’d he have to say, “Yes,” when they’d asked him if he’d wanted it when they saw him stare at it? “Dad, I’d rather have that one,” pointing to a less expensive broom.
They hadn’t budged, and new padding had been added to the queue. If he could have insisted on wearing another sibling’s old robes and uniform to offset the costs, he would have, but none of his other siblings had been in Ravenclaw. Chance had been Slytherin, Milli had barely made Gryffindor, Laura had been in Hufflepuff, Jack had been Gryffindor as had Gladys, and Chris too had been Gryffindor. He, Laura, and Chance had been the odd ones out, though Laura at least had the house in common with their Mum. His dad had been Gryffindor, so even that hadn’t been possible. So, in the end he’d had to get new robes and uniforms. He’d grown some over the summer, though Casey hardly counted it as too much taller, but his mum had insisted he’d not be wearing floods to school and making people think they were poor despite living in a nice manor home.
So, new books, broom, padding, and uniforms in hand, the family had made it down the Alley to a safe place for the three of them to apparate. Of course, Casey had to do Side-along, but that was beside the point. The good-bye at the train station was painful. Not in an emotional way for him, but because of how tightly his mother was clinging to him and how low on the totem pole she was placing his reputation. He was already labeled a nerd. Did she really have to get him teased by the Slytherins for being a ‘mummy’s boy’? Of course, it took forever for even his dad to manage to pry her off their baby boy. He had given his son a quick hug with a pat on the back and sent him on his way onto the train.
Casey Thomas Winslow
Age & Birthday:
30|12 January, 1978
Bloodline:
Pureblood
Personality:
Casey's changed quite a bit from that schoolboy in Hogwarts thirteen years ago. Once at least willing to joke around and goof off from time to time and do the occasional 'daring' escape from the school with Evie, he is now reclusive and depressed and he rarely smiles. What could cause such a drastic difference in an individual? Simple. Years of self-sacrifice and difficult trials in the within his own marriage and in the fight with Voldemort. Being on the inside of Voldemort's ranks forever changes a man, and as much as one tries to flee from that reality, it's in vain. Guilt always catches up no matter what. The person has to choose to overcome it with or without help, ultimately, but constant denial of there being a problem leads to its progression.
Unfortunately Casey fits into the latter and as a result, he's lost himself. Confidence has literally eroded over time, if it was ever truly there again after it all to begin with, and self-doubt and hate have settled in. To top it all off is paranoia. He's convinced that the events eight years ago weren't the end of the conflict. With Death Eaters having escaped imprisonment on mere technicalities or lies, how could they have been? Those who stuck around for he-who-must-not-be-named's third return were obviously loyal to him and their cause. He doubted all of them returned out of fear. He figures there's nothing to keep them from trying to exact revenge against traitors such as Jamie and himself as well as the Order. So, he's constantly looking over his shoulder.
Believing it a fairly understandable, reasonable, and possible fear, he's fostered it despite never intending to do so, and anyone telling him to let go of it is disregarded as simply not understanding and having his own agenda in mind. Casey fears the moment he dares to up and move on and hope for a better future, he'll find his then-abandoned fear coming true. So, despite being only thirty, he feels like an eighty-year-old conspiracy theorist who believes everyone's out to get him and at times he thinks, speaks, and acts like it. Loathing of himself for that and not being able to move on as well as the fear itself have helped shape and further his depression and sink him into the rut he's in now.
Guilt for things done while undercover as a Death Eater as well as nightmares of or stemming from that time in his life help keep him weighted down. He feels he deserves death for them even if he had no real choice in the matter if he wished to return home to his wife and eventually his unborn child as well. He feels he was selfish in allowing others to suffer when he could have stopped it at the cost of blowing his cover and losing his life.
But perhaps some of that sentiment stems from the events three years later in which Evie ended up tortured both mentally and physically, rendering her incapable of handling much of anything for months. He felt and still feels responsible for that. If only he’d told her about the dreams implanted each night about the strange woman. Maybe talking about them with her would have kept him from the bottle, but they’d been arguing so much at the time because of her joining Voldemort that he feared it’d be the final push that would push her away forever. After all, Voldemort had so easily provoked her doubt of his fidelity to get her to join.
Little had he known that choosing the bottle would lead to the question being raised and confirmed. If he’d never gone to drink to deal with marital problems and nightmares, then he’d never have met Morgana, and if he’d never met Morgana, he would never have been drugged, and if he’d never been drugged, Evie wouldn’t have walked into The Three Broomsticks and seen what she had, and if she hadn’t seen what she had, Trey would never have had the open door to get to his wife, so ultimately her suffering all that year and at the end of that year especially was his fault—even if he had tried so hard to get her to listen and take him back. Therefore, it would have been better for her if he had died. Evie might have recovered from her problems for the most part, but he has yet to shed his guilt—the selfsame guilt that has him down in the dumps.
Memory of what he once was and recognition that he has become something he hates has also furthered his pain. He misses being able to enjoy time with his family and with his wife to the fullest. He misses wanting to go out with Evie and enjoy a night with just the two of them. He misses being more or less carefree and laid back. He misses laughter and the feeling of happiness. He misses feeling like he could take on the world and acting in accordance (even if that was what caused him to make the worst mistake in his life—joining the Order in the first place). He misses being able to connect to people on a personal level, but he feels helpless to overcome the cynicism and hypercritical way he acts at times. He wishes the perfectionism could go back to judging only his own things, but he doesn’t feel capable of putting forth his best effort, and he hates that. It frustrates him.
Yet, Casey is still in denial. He doesn’t want help even though he was cutting and did have a suicide attempt (several, really, just one was bigger than the rest and he was caught at it). He doesn’t want help despite the fact that he feels like he’s been in the doghouse when it comes to Evie since she caught him during those things. He hates the feelings towards her he gets because of feeling like she’s trying to lord over him and the feeling that he’s a captive. The only thing that keeps him from walking out that door is the children. He wants to stay in their lives, and he knows if he leaves, she’ll be able to tip them off to these attempts, and if given a psychiatric evaluation, he doubts he’d manage to pass. He can’t lose them, so he stays despite feeling like he’s lost Evie already.
Those who knew him off and on throughout the years before this change occurred likely remember him as being quiet unless talked to or having something important to say or something important going on in his life. Some might regard him as foolish while others might regard him as brave. Many likely regard him as daring and having a quick temper and unafraid of speaking his mind; maybe it could also be regarded as rebellion and having no regard for authority. Moody, on more occasions, than one was on the receiving end of his rants, often comparing the older man to Voldemort himself even.
He was passionate about Quidditch, yet at the same time passionate about ridding the world of Voldemort and the likes of his followers. He was most passionate about his wife and her safety given their history, perhaps even bordering, if not crossing, the line of obsession when it came to that. He was willing to do whatever it took to keep her out of harm’s way, and in many ways the unplanned first pregnancy at nineteen had made him happy in such a way amongst other, more natural reasons.
He was willing to live a little and be sporadic, taking impromptu trips with his wife before they had kids and other things began to complicate such things over time. He loved books, wished their lives could be as uncomplicated as those of some of the characters he read about, though those far and few between. He wished that they could have a happy ending despite the seeming never-ending story that their lives had become with their involvement in the Order and the fight with Voldemort. He loved teaching others about Defense, feeling fulfilled in simply passing onto others things that could be useful for their futures, given the threats at that time.
Height:
5'10"
Hair:
Brown
Eyes:
Beautiful, hard-to-describe blue
General Appearance:
Wand:
Holly, 11" unicorn hair
Pet:
Family pets (Saleel [owl], Felix [cat]), Paco (Macaw)
Worst Class(es) were:
History of Magic (P, took it all years by his father's demands)
Best Class(es) were:
DADA (even 6th and 7th year, in which Moody was there and the next Umbridge, Moody not believing his claims, and Umbridge restricting his learning, as he saw it, but he still got O's, not wanting to upset his parents--dad esp.--anymore than he already had), Transfiguration (E's), Flying (excelled in the class when he had the class first year, joining the team as seeker not long after third year had begun, eventually making it to Captain his last year), Potions (mediocre, As, mainly only because of the professor that taught it all his years there, couldn't get much into the class, besides, having to deal with math wasn't his thing)
Special Ability:
Dog animagus (Labrador Retriever)
Special Item:
Nada
Special Position:
Head of Ravenclaw
Class Teaching:
Defense Against the Dark Arts
Marital Status:
Married, Evelyn (Evie) Winslow
Children:
Julian Winslow (11, blue eyes, brown hair), Lydia Winslow (6, brown eyes, brown hair)
History:
Casey Thomas Winslow was born on January 12, 1978 at 4:32 a.m., 5 lbs., 11 oz., 18 1/2" long to Paige (Thomas) Winslow and Mark Winslow. He was the ninth and last child of the couple, brought into the world with 11-yr-old Christopher, 9-year-old Gladys, 7-year-old Laura, 5-year-old Jack, 3-year-old Chance, and 3-year-old Millicent in the waiting room with their Aunts Darleen, Marsha, and Amy and Uncles Joel, Leeroy and David as well as their cousins 1-year-old Sam and 4-year-old Michael and their Grandmothers Mary and Lauren and Grandfathers Logan and James, all but the youngest few eagerly expecting the announcement of his safe arrival. All but Chris and Gladys and the adults were asleep, Chris and Gladys keeping each other awake by playing, having to be told constantly to keep quiet, their baby cousin was sleeping and their younger siblings. Like a broken record, adults were.
Finally at 4:32 a.m., everyone almost nodding off, the door could be heard opening, and everyone who was still hanging onto consciousness practically jumped, some standing, the rest sitting. Chris and Gladys were the first to go in, being the new baby's siblings. Both were only allowed to look at the new baby, considering the time, but soon they had to leave and the adults took turns, holding him.
'He's not fussy, Paige; that's good,' his grandmum had told his mum while holding his newborn form in her arms.
His mum had been all smiles. She knew the work that would be involved, but that didn't matter at the moment. She'd enjoy her son, spoil him when she could. He was her baby boy.
Casey, however, ended up being the one baby that seemed to have all the problems. Colic, ear infections, caught nearly everything that went through the house. Usually she'd managed to keep the babies from catching things, but it seemed no matter how hard she tried, no matter what precautions, Casey caught everything. Therefore, he was pretty much her fussiest baby, but she couldn't blame him. This only caused her to be overprotective of him, made her take interest in every aspect of his life. Her baby boy wasn't going to suffer anymore after that tough first five years of life.
Growing up, Casey could get away with almost everything that happened between himself and a sibling, seeing as Paige figured he was least likely to be the instigator, as that was how it had often been between herself and her sister, Darleen. Seems she overlooked the fact that Darleen had often annoyed her. Though this would seem to give the tendency that Casey would have grown up acting like a spoiled brat, he didn't really. Instead, he chose to be pretty quiet, rarely really instigating any fights between himself and his siblings. It was better that way. Less of a chance of their ganging up on him. Plus, his dad was enough to scare anyone into a hole and make him refuse to come out, so he figured out that being quiet and submissive was more advantageous in the long run at a fairly young age.
Entering Hogwarts was an exciting time for Casey. He looked at it as a way to get away from his siblings and parents (mostly parents) and also learn how to do magic like they could. Get back at them after a year, he would. On the train he stuck close by his cousin Sam Winslow, who was a second year Ravenclaw, seeing as Milli and Chance’s friends were much more intimidating since they were so much older. In reality, he actually tried hanging out with Milli, but her friends had done the embarrassing ‘Aww…he’s so cute!’ thing and they both had a mutual understanding that he had to get the hell away, even if they were for two very different reasons.
When they arrived at the Hogsmeade station, Casey followed Hagrid like so many others had done before him. Getting into the boat with a few icky girls, he felt squeamish and for more reasons than the fact that girls had cooties. Water wasn’t his thing. He was terrified of it and didn’t know how to swim and was afraid of drowning in it should he fall out or the Giant Squid Chance had told him liked to eat little first years with blue eyes and brown hair decide he looked like dinner. In fact, he even put on a hat made of aluminum foil that his brother had told him would ward the thing away. The girls had giggled at him, and he had turned red and shrunk down, taking the thing off and tossing it into the lake before resuming paddling, his head down and eyes staring at his black robes, or what he could see of them in the darkness, as he listened to the girls chatter.
By the time they reached the castle, Casey was too tired, cold, and hungry to care about the things the girls noticed about it, and he more or less stayed off by himself as he walked with the group behind Hagrid to the chamber where they waited outside the Great Hall. When a woman with a face that reminded him of a fish introduced herself as Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, also the Head of Gryffindor and transfiguration professor, his attention was drawn immediately to her, taking in every word of her speech with the sense that what she had to say was important or she wouldn’t be there right now. He didn’t want to be caught off guard and look stupid out there since he knew that he’d be before the whole school. That alone made his stomach do cartwheels. The thought of tripping over his own two feet or his robes, which were almost too long made it do back flips.
When told to line up, Casey moved to do so like some sort of loyal dog, being pushed out of the way by the group of forty amassing first years. He wound up second in line after all was said and done, much to his dismay. As he walked across the stage, a loud cheer rose from the Slytherin table from his brother Chance as well as something to the effect of, “Make me proud, baby brother!” His sixth year brother Jack and his fourth year sister Milli countered that cheer in favor of their own respective houses. He chewed back his lip, feeling his cheeks burn a bright red as he looked towards his standing brother before he himself slid up onto the tall stool and felt McGonagall put the hat onto his head. The thing contemplated Hufflepuff for a moment but quickly declared after a few “Hmm…I see” type of phrases, “Ravenclaw!”
The table cheered him on, and Casey walked towards the table, not looking anyone in the eyes as he searched for Sam and slid in to sit beside him. He rested his elbows on the table and his face in his hands. That had been the bravest moment in his life so far—at least that he could remember. He was glad it was over, and he had to recover from the shock. He could have sworn he would have a heart attack, the way his heart had been racing. But after a few moments of having his face covered, he brought his arms down and watched the rest of the ceremony, talking with Sam from time to time and wondering when it was that the meal would be served. He was famished!
His first class was potions with Professor Snape and it was Ravenclaws and Slytherins. When he rose his hand and got the answer correct and continued to raise his hand, ‘nerd’ and ‘show-off’ were the milder names that the Slytherins called him after class after pretending to want to be his friend. Chance hadn’t warned him about Slytherins being so mean-spirited. Milli had, but his brother had reassured him that Slytherins weren’t all that bad. Now he was sure his brother had been lying or was crazy. Rejected, Casey had made his way back to his common room for his free period.
He made a few friends that year, but he was mostly around his cousin, who likely didn’t mind it sometimes but other times felt him a tag-along. Casey couldn’t help it. He knew Sam wouldn’t be mean. They were cousins, and they knew each other, and during holidays and other times during the year they’d always got along. Grades had been excellent that year, but he excelled at flying, and his parents had sent him a few rewards. First, it was an owl, which had, unfortunately, been sent out only a few times before a larger bird of prey took it out. That, or it decided to run away and never returned. Now-a-days, Casey figures the prior is more likely than the latter.
His next year was about as interesting as the watching a cow for days on end eating grass, laying down, resting in the shade aside from Jack’s graduation at the end of the year. He made a few new friends, kept up his good grades, drifted a little more from Sam, and all was well and good in the world for him as he settled more into the school. He knew to avoid Slytherins, to look out for two of the red-heads in Gryffindor who were likely to pull some pranks, and what not to do in order to continue on his detention-free path. He also learned that no Defense teacher made it past one year, seeing as they had a new one this year and the last one had apparently ran for his life after an unfortunate accident in which his face was severely disfigured amongst other reasons.
During his third year, Harry Potter made it to the school, which intrigued Casey. After all, who didn’t know about the boy-who-lived? Even he was guilty of trying to get a glimpse of that scar on more than one occasion. It was like having one’s favorite superhero prove to be real and not fiction. Naturally, he had known Harry was real to begin with, but this was so strange to actually see him and meet him in person. The school was abuzz with the latest Harry had done, and Casey was guilty of keeping up with it even if he didn’t pass the gossip along. He knew how twisted some stuff could get.
This was also the year that he first joined the Ravenclaw Quidditch team as seeker. The try-outs were shaky, but overall he must’ve done the best job. It was probably due to his slender frame and generally smaller size, which gave him the edge of quickness and agility that his competitors couldn’t have. When first year Harry Potter gained the spot opposing him on the Gryffindor team, it did nothing for Casey’s nerves, and he dreaded the game with Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor all season long, and when it finally came, Potter was out of commission. He felt stupid then, worrying all that year. Gryffindor had to forfeit and the game was in their favor.
His fourth year was filled with fear as the deadly Basilisk was released from the Chamber of Secrets. The uncertain murmurings between the professors set him on edge, not certain what was going on exactly other than students and ghosts alike being found stunned. He never came face to face with the creature, nor did he do much to figure out what was going on. He simply traveled in groups with his fellow Ravenclaws to classes, meals, and other things, and spent a lot of time outdoors. He was scared, dreading what might happen to him, not giving much heed to the bloodlines of the people being attacked. For all he knew it was a professor or that creepy janitor Filch. Everyone always joshed that he was secretly a homicidal maniac seeking refuge under guise of a caretaker.
His mum, on more than one occasion, wrote to him to see if he didn’t want to come home and finish out the year under her instruction. His answer was always ‘no.’ As much as he wanted out, he knew his mother would do him no good. He’d be worlds behind the rest of the students, and she’d baby him too much. Besides, Chance would call him a pansy, and he still lived at home. Pride? No, really? He waded through the year, keeping his marks up as he buried himself completely into the work he had to do to forget his own nervousness. Exams finally came around, his marks staying high as usual, and then finally the end of the year was approaching and the mystery was solved. A basilisk.
The very name of the creature made a shiver of excitement but at the same time of anxiety go up his spine. He knew about them. He’d read about them once in a Care of Magical Creatures textbook Jack had had. Snakes were his favorite creatures, and well, the idea of the basilisk was enthralling. One creature holding so much power to it despite being so venomous it shouldn’t require such abilities? It was humbling, all the same. He could have died, and he didn’t want his mum and dad to know, but his dad worked at the Ministry. He’d have heard regardless if any word was sent from the school to the parents. End of the year festivities ensued, feeling much more light-hearted now that the threat was gone.
He’ll never forget how tightly his mum clung to him when he arrived at the London station that year. It was embarrassing, and at the same time, he felt sorry for her. She’d had to sit all year worrying about him from the time of the first attack, and now she was here, holding onto him for dear life, sobbing tears of, from what Casey could figure, relief and happiness to have her baby boy home alive. For once in his life, he didn’t protest her hugs. It felt the same way to him, even if he was less expressive about it to her than the rest. Milli was equally as excited when he walked through the front door with their parents. She told him how worried she was, which he’d gathered by her lengthy letters that rambled—something he knew she only would do speech-wise if she was highly nervous about something.
Summer could not have ended any sooner for Casey. He loved his family and knew they meant well, but they were all over him and hardly would give him a second alone. He heard the words ‘I love you’ more often than he had ever heard them in his lifetime prior to that summer, and it was getting to the point that he was taking them for granted and saying them more habitually and out of duty than anything else. It was a fun trip through Diagon Alley that year. He received a new broom for Quidditch, and he knew had it not been for all that had happened the school year prior, he would never have gotten it. They wanted him to be as safe as possible, and he felt guilty as they put the broom up on the counter to be bought. He tried to talk them out of it. “Mum, really, I don’t need it.” Didn’t work. Why’d he have to say, “Yes,” when they’d asked him if he’d wanted it when they saw him stare at it? “Dad, I’d rather have that one,” pointing to a less expensive broom.
They hadn’t budged, and new padding had been added to the queue. If he could have insisted on wearing another sibling’s old robes and uniform to offset the costs, he would have, but none of his other siblings had been in Ravenclaw. Chance had been Slytherin, Milli had barely made Gryffindor, Laura had been in Hufflepuff, Jack had been Gryffindor as had Gladys, and Chris too had been Gryffindor. He, Laura, and Chance had been the odd ones out, though Laura at least had the house in common with their Mum. His dad had been Gryffindor, so even that hadn’t been possible. So, in the end he’d had to get new robes and uniforms. He’d grown some over the summer, though Casey hardly counted it as too much taller, but his mum had insisted he’d not be wearing floods to school and making people think they were poor despite living in a nice manor home.
So, new books, broom, padding, and uniforms in hand, the family had made it down the Alley to a safe place for the three of them to apparate. Of course, Casey had to do Side-along, but that was beside the point. The good-bye at the train station was painful. Not in an emotional way for him, but because of how tightly his mother was clinging to him and how low on the totem pole she was placing his reputation. He was already labeled a nerd. Did she really have to get him teased by the Slytherins for being a ‘mummy’s boy’? Of course, it took forever for even his dad to manage to pry her off their baby boy. He had given his son a quick hug with a pat on the back and sent him on his way onto the train.
Part 1 of 3