Viewing profile - Finnegan Pierce


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Ministry of Magic
Finnegan Pierce
Magical Law Enforcement
Senior Auror
24 Jun 1966
5’ 10”
A half-blood Slytherin wasn’t entirely unheard of, but it was certainly unfortunate. It didn’t help that he’d grown up when he did, in the midst of the First Wizarding War, and had already faced prejudice for having the bloodline he did. Especially for him, who was so close to his dad? Finn grew adept at pretending, is what I’m saying, because honestly how could you not? He only saw Dad during the summer anyway, and during breaks maybe. It felt wrong, sure, but there was a certain surrender of responsibility in the mob mentality of prejudice. As long as everyone else mocked the same group he did, he couldn’t be wrong, right?

It was a common trap for a teenage boy to fall into, but that didn’t excuse the insults, the slurs, or the teasing. He felt guilty for a long time after, but in the short term all it gained him was enemies. Finn got so caught up in the act that, while at school, he found it hard to remember it wasn’t him. You could put it off as ‘getting caught up in a bad crowd’, and maybe that’s all it was, but Finn wasn’t really sure; some part of him enjoyed feeling superior, and the more he associated with the bullies, the more he was able to justify taking part.

Cheesily enough, he was rescued by a girl. Or put in the Infirmary, really, but never mind. Yeah, I know, shut up. Anyway. The war had just ended, and bigotry was becoming pretty taboo after all that had happened. It all happened in a nondescript corridor midway through his Fifth Year. It hadn’t been his fault, strictly speaking, or at least not wholly. Either way, he’d been the one to speak too loudly about another student’s mother, and said student reacted accordingly.

Three things happened – he held his own in a duel for the first time, got a night’s stay in the Infirmary with a head the size of a watermelon, and earned himself a month’s worth of detention with a miss Henrietta Langley, a Muggleborn Ravenclaw with a sharp tongue and a wicked repertoire of hexes at her disposal.

She wasn’t so bad, and neither was polishing armor for a night, and from there things are pretty predictable. In detention, Henny found he was a very different person from the one who’d called her mother a gutter whore. It was a very love/hate thing, at first, but one side grew and the other diminished, blah blah blah. He didn’t change so much as stop trying to change – he dropped the whole ‘cool’ act like a hot potato. It cost him a great number of his friends, and he felt like a total wimp for the longest time, but he was also getting awesome make out sessions and- okay, it felt nice to be nice. Being a racist douche was inexplicably addictive, but it didn’t give him the warm fuzzies like Henrietta did. Shut up. If you repeat that…

Now that he was no longer running around causing hell with his fellow Slytherins, he spent a great deal of time in the library. If you asked, he would tell you about the benefits of being with a pretty girl in a quiet place, but he in fact quite enjoyed the atmosphere there. Henny was more a study partner than a hookup, and he soon found his marks much improving. It turned out that when focused correctly, he was a bright kid. With a laugh, she reminded him of their disastrous duel, and suggested he join the Duelling Club. It was all quite cute, really. She was the fire to his ice, the passion to his reason… stop giggling. I’m serious. It was adorable!

They broke up in the beginning of seventh year, but by then he was almost unrecognizable from the boy she’d beaten up two years prior. For a bit his marks dipped, as any angsty teenager’s would after a breakup, but a kick of old-fashioned Slytherin ambition gave him that push to get where he wanted – the Ministry. He did pretty well in his N.E.W.T.s and impressed with his Auror test, and soon had a desk and a set of snazzy new robes.

Let’s skip right over the Death Eaters’ control over the Ministry, shall we? In any case, the relevant consequence of those events was a small relapse for Finn. He’d been following orders, he’d been doing his job, he was intending to rebel eventually. All of it true, but he felt guilty nonetheless. Some Aurors were worringly overzealous in carrying out their new tasks, and by no means was he a part of this group. If anything, he skirted the line of being fired through his leniency.

It’s behind him now. He’s a damn good Auror – not award-worthy, or anything, but he does his job by the book and keeps his head down. If you ask him, there are too many hotheads in the division, and he’s their methodical counterweight.

Speaking of which, he recently got a total terror of a partner. A rookie, you know, and that in itself is pretty worrying. Already she promises to give him nothing but headaches and extra paperwork. Joy.


Because Finn's cubicle is bare, it looks a bit bigger than it really is. That said, it's still not that big, though its full walls offer a modicum of much-appreciated quiet. He has a desk made of darkish wood that he thinks makes him look esteemed, and a leather roll-y chair as well, which rather counteracts the former effort. Watch the stapler -- it guards the desk with a sharp bite. The window over his desk most often shows a steady rain, which he finds comforting. The placard next to his door with his name and title is always kept suspiciously well-polished.



Cedar, 10 1/4 inches, dragon heartstring

Educational History

Hogwarts, Slytherin, 1977-1984

Face Claim

Ian Somerhalder

Additional Notes




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