Mother: Amaryllis Wings, 37, pureblood
Father: Arthur Wings, 38, pureblood
Siblings: None
Partners: *cringeeee*
Others: Horus Wings, Stygian Owl, 4 years old.
Boggart: His owl getting eaten by the giant squid. Or crushed by the Whomping Willow. There are so many horrifying ways Horus could meet his death at Hogwarts and Wings worries about them all.
Mirror of Erised: He's the greatest Broomologist ever to exist. Better than Zartavious Brooms, better than Comet. Better than all of the huge brands out there, he will create the most amazing brooms that are loved all over the world.
Patronus: Stygian Owl - Wings can't produce a patronus just yet, he's going to work his backside off at it and it will take the form of his beloved owl, Horus.
"You can do it, sweetheart." Arthur Wings brushed his wife's hair back from her face as she screamed, pushing their child out with all her might.
"I'm never doing this againnnnn!" Amaryllis screamed at the top of her lungs. And she didn't. But she did birth an adorable baby boy, who they named Timothie.
"He looks just like you," Arthur said, kissing Amaryllis on the forehead and gazing down at their baby, with his shock of dark hair.
"No, he looks like my Uncle Filbus, look at that nose." She scrunched her own nose, which was neat and cute, and stared down at Timmy's squashed and soggy face.
Four year old Timmy swung from the tree branch, screaming as loud as he could, a trait he had clearly inherited from his mother. Arthur covered his ears with his hands as he jogged out to the back garden to find his tiny, skinny little boy in a bit of a pickle. Calm as ever, Arthur stopped under the tree and held his arms out.
"Let go, Timmy, I'll catch you." The tree wasn't that high, Arthur was perfectly confident that Timmy wouldn't get hurt if he dropped from the branch.
"Noooooo!" Timmy wailed, kicking his legs about frantically.
"I can't leave the owl!" His dark gaze was fixed high up in the top of the tree, and Arthur looked up to see a scruffy old owl there.
"Oh, son, he probably belongs to someone in the neighbourhood," Arthur said gently.
"Nooo, he doesn't. He wants to live with us!" Timmy insisted. Arthur sighed.
"Let go of the branch and we'll see what we can do," he reasoned. Timmy stared down at him wide-eyed for a moment, then dropped from the branch, looking like a feather in a strong wind, straight into his dad's arms.
"His name is Aeolus, like the God of the Winds," Timmy beamed. Arthur squinted up at the old owl and sighed again. He supposed he would be climbing up the tree himself, then.
Amaryllis stuck her head out of the kitchen window.
"Tea is ready, Timmy!" She listened for a response, but none came. Perhaps he was still flying and couldn't hear her. She shouted louder, her voice scaring a few sparrows in the bushes under the window.
"Timothie! Tea time!" Still no answer. Rolling her eyes, Amaryllis wiped her hands on a dish cloth and headed for the back door, almost tripping over Timmy, who was sitting on the doorstep.
"Why didn't you answer?" she asked, crouching down next to the scrawny boy who still looked like her Uncle Filbus.
"I'm busy," Timmy said simply, frowning down at whatever was in his hands. Amaryllis took a closer look and gasped.
"Your broom! What happened?" Timmy's broom - a cheap kids one - was in three pieces on his knee. He was patiently wrapping vines around the separate parts to try and twine them together.
"It's okay, mummy, I can fix it. These vines are renowned for fusing broken broom wood. It'll be fixed by morning." Sure enough, the vines were coated in some sort of sap that he must have procured from a plant in the garden, and far from worrying if it was poisonous or not, Amaryllis ruffled her genius son's curly hair and stood up.
"Wash your hands for tea," she said, heading back inside.
The Hogwarts Express hissed to a stop, and Timmy shuffled out with the other kids, being ushered onto a boat on a huge lake. His dad had told him that a friendly squid lived in that lake, but Timmy had been reading books about the castle, and he knew that no squid that size could be friendly. He peered over the edge of the boat with eyes as dark as the midnight water beneath him, but he didn't see anything.
"Wings, Timothie!" His name was one of the last on the list in the Sorting Ceremony, and Timmy was so busy daydreaming at the enchanted ceiling that he didn't hear it at first. The Professor had to call him twice before he noticed it was his turn.
"Wings? Wings!" Blinking, Timmy rushed towards the Sorting Hat and tugged it roughly onto his head. He hadn't really noticed where everyone else had been placed, he didn't have any friends to listen out for, so there was really no point.
"Hmmm, a bright mind. Curious, practical, determined. And a strong inventive streak. You'll make great friends in RAVENCLAW!" The Hat shouted. Timmy ripped it off his head and dropped it on the floor in his haste to get to the Ravenclaw table. He hurried back and picked it up, placing it on the stool and shooting an apologetic look at the Headmaster, who smiled at him. Timmy headed for the cheering table full of blue-clad students, and grinned.
"Wings! Come and sit over here!" One student called.
"Welcome to the best house, Wings!" Another said, patting him on the back as he passed.
Wings did make friends in Ravenclaw. And other houses. He was known for being incredibly clever and studious, and a bit odd sometimes when he had his mind focused on a project. It was hard to drag him away once he got started on something, but he always made time for people he liked. He excelled at flying, and made the Quidditch team as Chaser in his third year (though had to skip a year due to injury in his 4th year before joining the team again) though he's got his sights set on Seeker. He joined the Chess Club, avoided the duelling club like the plague because he was not built for that kind of thing, and even had a go at the Frog Choir though he likes to hide at the back and be heard and not seen. His owl - one that was bought for him in his first year, not pilfered from up a tree - Horus slept in his dorm rather than the owlery, and still is the most important person in Wing's life. Oh, and the nickname stuck, as you can tell. He's awkward with girls, and still gangly and weird looking, but he's well liked for his talent with a broom and his willingness to help others learn. Currently in his fifth year, Wings is doing great at school and plans to be a Broomologist - the greatest broom maker/designer/creator in the universe - when he graduates.
