James Huntington was not a real strong man, nor was he very well thought of by his parents. He was sort of the weakest link of the Huntington family. That’s why it was so important that James find a wife who could shape him and keep the family in the right light. He married Jenna. Jenna was strong willed, controlling and upheld the beliefs of a purist better than anyone. James was rather terrified of her but he did as he was told and married her.

James and Jenna’s marriage was definitely a business transaction. He didn’t love her. She didn’t love him. He stuck around because he had to. She stuck around because she liked James for being such a weak man she could manipulate into doing what she wanted. Kids were an after thought. Something she did because it was expected of her. James was in charge of raising the kids. Jenna only stepped in when he didn’t do his job right.

Hawthorne was the second child to come to the unhappy marriage and household. He has an older sibling but they aren’t exactly close given the number of years between them. He’d later have a younger sibling but again, closeness was not something the family encouraged. Each of them did their own thing and only stuck around together for the sake of their father.

Hawthorne’s childhood wasn’t very happy. There was plenty of love from Daddy dearest, and plenty of abuse from Monster Mother – yes, that’s what he referred to her as. Monster, not Mother, in private. If there was a single hair or toe out of line they heard about it later. Were punished for any behavior deemed inappropriate. Some of the punishments left scars which Hawthorne began designing tattoos on his skin around which turned into a vicious circle of how he was mutilating his body.

Hawthorne grew up in St. Petersburg and attended Koldovstoretz. It was certainly an interesting experience. Hawthorne can speak fluent Russian and English and Polish. He wasn’t a great student because he was lazy. He could careless about academic and spent most of his time being a bully to the other kids. Hawthorne actually takes a great deal of pleasure out of causing other people pain which is what will lead him to his career as a tattoo artist to curb that pleasure so he’s not out there casually beating people up.

At fifteen, Hawthorne quit school. He’d completed his OWLs and decided he didn’t want some Russian Ministry career like his parents expected of him. He didn’t want to live in their world and have to constantly cover the tattoos he had given himself to hide the scars left from his mother’s punishments. Hawthorne ran away from home. He did some odd jobs, met some interesting people on his travels from Russia and eventually found himself living in Knockturn Alley with this old fella who taught him the art of tattoo’ing.

The man owned a parlor in Knockturn Alley called The Inkpot and Hawthorne became his apprentice for the next three years. A year ago, the man had a fatal accident – Hawthorne was not at all involved in it – and he died leaving the shop to sit empty for a year since no one knew who he really was. He always went by a code name (which Lou will come up with later). It took all of his strength to suck up his pride and return home to his mother and request help to purchase The Inkpot. The deal was that he had to show his face, without all the tattoos, at some pureblood events and carry on the line by marrying a proper woman (we’ll see about that). He agreed.

Just this past year, Hawthorne got the funds he needed and reopened The Inkpot.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in... or should I say, the rats of Knockturn Alley,” Jenna Huntington sneered as her son was shown into her study.

His father’s head lifted up from the chair he sat in and stared at Hawthorne like his eyes had never feasted on anything better in the world. “Y-ou’re alive!” James Huntington stood and took one step towards Hawtie before Jenna cleared her throat and he stopped.

Figures, Hawthorne restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “Hello Father, hello Monster,” he greeted his parents, not caring much anymore for proper pleasantries. He saw the way her eye twitched at the name he used. Good. Let her squirm knowing what she really was. As if he cared how she felt. Except he did. He hoped she suffered. He was not under her thumb anymore. She couldn’t hurt him anymore. The worst she could do now was tell him to get out and he’d have to find some other way to get the money he needed to buy the tattoo parlor.

“I suspect this is not a social call?” His mother returned cooly.

He could see the way his father’s fingers rubbed together nervously like he wanted to say something and was too afraid of his wife to do anything but stand there and stare at the son who had walked away from everything they had given him. He’d walked away from the silver spoon he’d grown up with and chose to live a life of hardships. “There were rumors you’d been arrested by muggle law enforcement.”

Hawthorne laughed. “Trivial. Muggles can’t keep wizards locked up.” He’d escaped that place pretty easily.

“It’s not a good look for our family name, Hawthorne!”

He blew out a raspberry. “That’s rather unfortunate. You probably should have thought of that before having kids and considered your actions carefully in case it blew up in your face, right? That’s what you taught us, isn’t, Monster?” There was that twitch of her eye again. One more use of Monster and she might toss that heavy, brass paperweight at his head.

“Hawtie,” his father stepped in with a quiet voice. “We’ve been so worried. Not knowing, not hearing from you, having to check the papers to make sure you’re picture doesn’t end up in the obituaries... did you hate us that much?”

“Her, yes. You, never.”

Alias: Lou
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