Cheeky Beggar
Portrayed by Andrew Lee Potts
Name: Jack Dodderidge, Formerly Tripe
Aliases: -
Birthday: Jan 21, 1919
Position: Leaky Cauldron, former N'er do well.
Lineage: Squib


Standing at a height of about 5'10", Jack's over-all impression is 'wiry youth'. Dark hair has a tendency to obscure the dark brown eyes if left unattended. A lean jaw is covered, at least for the moment, with a short growth of beard.

He is dressed in work clothes; dark pants, light coloured shirt with a vest over. Top button is undone, as are the shirt-sleeves rolled up to the elbow.

In total, the look of the working class, and not necessarily a successful member thereof.


Being born into a family of wizard types isn't easy, I can tell you. Bouncing around, being an apple in the eye of your parents, first born son, even.. but not the last to be born, nosirree. Going on outings, local matches of quidditch, even. Some take their sons fishing, but not in a wizard family. As a lad, there, in all its glory, were the blokes on brooms, chasing a snitch that seemed balls to the wall out to get you. As well as the other team.

Was 'bout the time when all my mates started "that big change", and my da kept a closer eye on me. Thing was, I didn't feel all that.. changey, if you know what I mean. And as the days kept coming on, as they do, it still didn't happen. Well.. the "big change" did come, and it wasn't quite what I'd thought. Sure, I'd heard about 'poor little Willoughby's third cousin twice removed who hadn't come into his own', but this? This was ME, for Christ's sake.

At the tender age of 14, then, I was given the boot. Shunned. Not to return. 'Out you go, Jack'. Come to think of it, wonder if they took my pictures off the wall? Well, anyway.. out I was at 14. Wandered around a bit for a couple of years. Came and went with 'the wrong crowd', I suppose, and with 'right crowds' before I off and got in with 'wrong ones' again. Did manage to survive, though.. and joined up when I could. Parents officially 'dead', though that was actually still kind of hard to say to authorities; with blokes, easy enough to roll off the tongue. With a man in uniform, I suppose I had to learn quick how to lie.

Anyways, it did get me somewheres. Learning how to drive lorries. First for the RAF, then for private. My own lorry service, though just to stick it to the parents, I do, on occasion, have reason to drive into Hogsmeade. Of course, I'm doing what the RAF taught me, making my own way, they actually sent me to school. They say I even qualify for flight school. Looking forward to that, really. All the pilots get the birds, if you know what I mean.

'Fings change, y'know.. an' I got me caught up wif a righ' nice bird an' her fam'ly. Gave me a job, a roof over me 'ed an' it didn't take long 'fore I 'ad me a wife. Kid on the way. 'Is Majesty don't really care much for 'ome an' 'earth, so's I 'ad lots of trainin' t' fight them Jerries. It was som'fin I wanted, too. Young, stupid, y'know that sort. All's been there, can't lie.

Now, lyin' in hospital.. an' I don' fink anyone righ' knows who I am, an' I can't tell 'em.

Jack was born into a old line of wizards. As firstborn son, so much was placed upon young shoulders that the task to take the head of his particular branch of the family tree came early. Lessons were taught and learned, and the rewards became the source of longing; getting to go out and watch Quidditch matches. Jack knew every team and could give the stats on pretty much any player when asked. He was expected to follow the family line and study at Hogwart's and make something of himself. Though, something just wasn't right.

Letters of acceptance began arriving for his friends, and each day Jack waited. And waited. His family had him 'tested' for confirmation, and there, written plainly on parchment was the answer. Jack was a squib. No magic ability in him whatsoever and there wasn't any denying the painful truth. It didn't take long for his family to decide what they were going to do with him. Out of the house, out of the family. Jack was effectively erased from the family story. Gone at the age of 14. He didn't have the experience or the knowledge to get an honest job, having been born and raised in such a 'secret society'. So, to stay alive in a world previously unknown to him, he had to learn the tricks of the 'not too legal' trade. He learned his way around a knife, and later, how to be the 'get away driver'.

Sooner, rather than later, Jack found that this sort of life simply couldn't be supported, and he broke away from it. Successfully, who knows? Regardless, he took that ill-gotten gain, put it into the form of a truck, and only a little while after starting his own removal company, decided that perhaps joining up before draft might be a better idea. So, onto the RAF. While waiting for word to go, Jack met and married a nice girl! Unfortunately, soon after, His Majesty decided that all young men who had volunteered now had to leave, and leave Jack did. He could probably have stayed, hidden in the world of wizards, but he didn't. Training turned into real preparations and real fighting, and Jack was hurt. Word of his whereabouts had been lost and a notice that he was Missing In Action was sent to his Muggle 'address'. Missing In Action, perhaps… but not dead. Simply unidentified. Alive, but unidentified.

RP Hooks

  • Know me from before you went to Hoggies?
  • Know my wizardy parents (the buggers who cut me off..)? They're pure-bloods.
  • Know my siblings? There's two.. and no doubt in Hoggies.
  • Know my past? Did I wrong you? Or, by some sheer dumb luck, right you?


Logs featuring Jack Logs that refer to Jack


  • Always looking for an angle
  • Not easily flustered
  • If it weren't for bad luck, he'd have no luck at all!
  • Wealth: Comfortable, thanks to the kindness of Mister Dodd'ridge.
  • Bum leg that requires a cane. One doesn't come away from wartime without something, whether it's physical or mental.



Man who's seen 'is way t'call me 'Son'. I'm tryin' 'ard t'.. believe me luck. Sure it'll fall through. Always does. Though now, fings are a bit different. 'E's both.. nicer an' meaner all at the same time. Pushin' m'buttons, I 'magine, an' see what pops up.


Ells' mum. 'As taken a fryin' pan t'my back, claimin' it'll be my 'ead next if'n Ells is 'urt by myself. Confidence is runnin' 'igh, 'ere, 'aight?


Ells' little sis. Cute kid. Like t'tell 'er stories.


Angel in skirts. One day, a good man'll come by an' sweep her off 'er feet. If I was the sort, it'd be me. Only now takin'er out in the lorry, showin'er the sights, 'avin' right good cuddles. 'Er da's been usin' me an' the lorry for deliveries. Maybe I might be the kind t'do this type o'work? Be someone's 'son' 'gain. Fing is, I could see m'self settlin' down wif jus' the one.. an' it'd be Ells. It will be Ells. An' it is Ells. Tied the knot on th' day of Lovers.


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