Rameses was used to being looked at as the odd child, he had never really fit at Avalorn, the only people he could rely on were his little brother Moses and his adoptive father Korso. He could still remember the night his parents had been killed and he had escaped holding Moses in his arms as he ran away from their burning home.
He had never asked Moses if he still remembered the details of what had happened that night as it still haunted him. He had barely escaped their home but not before the fire had burned his hair and then the top of his scalp. He had been burned so badly that the hair there never grew back no matter what spells were used on it.
There were still some days where his whole head would be in agony, memories of that night always at the back of his mind. The days his head was in pain he would be in his room; skulking as Moses called it, Joseph never bothered him on those days almost as if he knew what was going on.
The night their parents had died, Rameses had been playing on his toy broom stick while keeping an eye on Moses who was sleeping in his crib. He hadn't heard the shouts from the other room until it was too late and he had seen a dim light under the door, then there had been the smoke. Sliding off his broom he had raced to the door and had tried grabbing the knob but it was too hot and he had started crying in fear as the smoke thickened and that light kept growing.
He wasn't quite sure what it was that had provoked him to move exactly but something did and he had managed to scoop Moses out of his crib and race to the window. The window was always sticking but with some effort he had pried it open, that was when the fire had started entering their room. It was a kind of fire he had never seen before and never wanted too again, demonfire few could escape its flames and live but he hadn't known that at the time and had merely stared at the flames with wide eyes. They were shaped like dragons and rampaging creatures.
Once again he was jolted out of his daze this time as Moses started crying, he had woken up sometime in between Rameses opening the window and then looking at the demonfire. Knowing he didn't have much time he covered Moses as best as he could while he tried climbing out of the window. While he was about midway out his hair caught on fire, he hadn't even been really aware of what had happened, save that he had never been in so much pain before in his life. He hadn't even noticed the older man casting a spell to douse the flames before dimly realizing that he was being lifted into the air. He had held onto Moses and through bloodshot eyes saw his uncle casting a spell to levitate him in the air.
Once they were in a safe enough distance Joseph had offered to hold Moses but Rameses could only shake his head. It wasn't until much later that Rameses would realize that both his parents had been killed in the fire that had destroyed their home. He didn't really quite understand who had done it, and his uncle certainly hadn't told him what he knew about it, if anything. So when he had received the letter to go to Avalorn, he had done so even if at the time he had wanted to run back to his uncle and little brother. He hadn't enjoyed it the first few weeks as it was strange and people made fun of him due to the bad scarring on his head. Even while being sorted in Gerwulf he had been seen as the social outcast and it wasn't until he discovered flying that he felt comfortable.
Flying to him was as natural as walking for him, every single time he got on his Firebolt he felt like he was in control once again. In his second year he became the Keeper for the Gerwulf Quidditch Team and stayed on the team until his final year there, the last three years he was the Captain and won the Quidditch Cup every year. He had been given offers to fly professionally but he turned them all down to teach Flying Lessons at Avalorn at about the same time Korso took up the position of Potions teacher. He enjoyed teaching but most of all he enjoyed being able to keep an eye on his little brother and make sure he did well.
