CHAMBERLAIN, nicandro

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Nicandro "Nic" G. Chamberlain

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On, August 25th, 1993, you were born to a loving couple in the heart of Brooklyn, New York, where one of the most esteemed wizarding families resided. The Chamberlains was a pure-blood family that you’d been born into, a family that produced some of the best wizards and witches in America. Generations of graduates from the House of Thunderbird at Ilvermorny. However, you weren’t raised in an environment of wealth. No, your home was a small, one-family flat in an old apartment building. Small and cramped it was, but a cozy one that was filled with love and warmth. Your parents, despite the common belief that most wizards upheld about the “No-Majs,” were one of the few people who didn’t view them as beneath them and appreciated their kind. They felt that the wizarding law was a bit too strict, and even several members of the Chamberlain family had married No-Majs in other countries to avoid persecution.

Your birth was one that was a mix of both surprise and exasperation. For you had inherited your father’s Metamorphmagus abilities, thus your appearance often changed like the capricious weather, driving your mother nuts. Or so what your parents told you later about your wild antics. Your mother was often befuddled by your constantly changing form whenever she held you in her arms; nonetheless, she loved you very much, putting up with the wild shenanigans you often roused up in the small apartment space. Your father absolutely loved it all, making all sorts of funny faces for you to imitate back, and he often practiced some of the No-Maj pastimes, like going out to baseball games and teaching you the rules of it whenever he could. Because of that, you too fostered a love for the American pastime like baseball and football. But most of all, you were told to never reveal your magic out in public, to protect the secrets of the wizarding community.

For the first couple years of your life, they taught you the basics of magic and of the things that were far beyond the No-Maj world. Magical creatures existed in your world, fantastical beasts of all kind, and then there were the Aurors whose reputation you admired. Both of your parents were Aurors, although your mother had retired earlier due to her pregnancy with you and became a home-mom to look after you. So your father was away most of the time, but whenever he did come home, faintly smelling of smoke and grime, he always had a fantastical tale to fill your dreams with at night. Your father was often away on missions, and during the first years of your childhood, there had been a Wizarding War brewing in the UK, far from the American boundaries. But even then, the MACUSA still was on high alert, in case any of the Death Eaters tried to infiltrate the American side, so your father, along with several other Aurors, often went on patrols to make sure no one breached the country, until the Wizarding War officially ended in Britain and your father was at home more often, but still had his hands full with cases.

With your father’s stories, you fostered a dream to become an Auror like your father. Your mother didn’t want such a life for you, what with the dangers it brought, but you really didn’t listen to your mother very well, with your rebellious personality. By the time you were old enough for official magical education, your letter came in the mail, bearing the invitation to Ilvermorny, and your parents were absolutely ecstatic. Your mother hoped you’d be selected into Pukwudgie, which had been her house when she’d attended Ilvermorny, but your father hoped you would fall into the Thunderbird House, like the other males in the Chamberlain family. But you weren’t sure of which house you’d fall into, but no matter it was, you’d work hard at your studies.

And so, with your bags packed and Lux, your Siberian cat, accompanying you, you set off for Ilvermorny, where you were promptly selected into the Wampus house, which broke the family tradition of Thunderbirds, but nonetheless pleased your parents. And oh, what a wild, wild run it was, as you ran around pranking others with your changing appearances and got to meet all sorts of different, but unique individuals from all over the states. It was there, that you met your best friend whom you found a kindred spirit in. He loved the same music as you did, connected with you easily over the same love for literature, especially Ernest Hemingway, and laughed easily at your jokes. Soon, you found yourself nurturing a deep crush on him, but kept your feelings hidden, in fear of losing him and fracturing your relationship with him. In your eyes, you felt that it was better to be next to his side and make sure he was happy, rather than watch him reject your affections and walk away from you.

Throughout your magical studies, your Legilimency professor came to you one day after class, and discreetly noted that he discovered an innate talent in you: Occlumency. He’d been able to read the other students’ minds easily, but you were one of the rare few students’ whose mind he couldn’t read. And it was then, that you began to practice in honing this skill of yours, as your professor encouraged you to practice it as often as you could and that it could very well prove to be useful in the future. It was like breathing, but only becoming more conscious of it.



As you grew older, you also found yourself dating other boys and girls, to take your mind off of your feelings for your best friend. A bit of a playboy, everyone called you. Your best friend always seemed exasperated by your wild sex life, but never seemed to be bothered by it; if anything, only mildly irritated. Something about his behavior unsettled you a bit, but you never stopped to think that maybe, just maybe, he could’ve loved you back as well. Then, when you were 16 and it was December break, you came home to the crushing news that your father had perished in a disastrous covert mission. Your father’s body was never recovered, but it was safer to assume that he had finally met his demise. But that wasn’t all. Your father’s reputation was then stained with the rumors that he’d been a traitor, leaked national secrets to scourers, and because you were his son, it was like everyone started to treat you with judging looks. Traitor was always whispered behind your back every time you passed through the halls.

It was as if his death was like a wake-up call for you, that made you realize once again your dreams of becoming an Auror. You were determined to prove everyone wrong, and to get rid of the heavy cloud that hung over your head. As if spurred on by some hidden emotion-perhaps vengeance or anger-you threw yourself into your schoolwork, ensuring to get the top scores in your classes, and closed yourself off to everyone, even your mother, who’d taken the loss a lot harder. The only time you allowed yourself to grieve was in the comfort you took in your best friend’s arms. Like always, he’d been there for you time and time again. On the outside, it was as if you took on a colder, nearly emotionless and intimidating appearance, unlike your former bubbly, welcoming persona, but your best friend knew better who you were.

By the time you graduated from Ilvermorny, you applied for Auror training, and went through the grueling, difficult training. But you passed them all with flying colors, especially the Concealment and Disguise portion, which you easily passed because of your being as a Metamorphmagus. Once Auror training had completed, you were 21 years old, one of the youngest recruits ever. Perhaps it was because of your determination to get through, spurred on by the images of your father being tortured somewhere in some remote land in the world. Even though everyone in your family had been so quick to assume your father’s death, you still latched onto the hope that perhaps your father was still alive.

Several years passed as you worked hard as a low-ranked Auror, sent out to go after minor criminals and on patrols to ensure the law wasn’t being breached. Maybe it was because of the Chamberlain name that everyone didn’t trust you easily. But you began to change people’s minds, after assisting some of the senior Aurors in capturing a rather notorious criminal in New Orleans, and soon, you found yourself rising through the ranks at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. And since then, you’d worked your way up until you finally were able to wipe out some of the stain that had blemished the Chamberlain reputation and everyone started to regard you as one of the best Aurors they’d ever had working for the MACUSA. Now, you’re finally at a place where you can really make some changes, and you’re more than determined to find out what it was that had exactly gone wrong with your father’s mission, even though it may be a can of worms that you might not want to open.

Whatever it is, you’re going to find the truth, no matter how much pain it may bring you.