Physical:

The first thing that comes to mind when you see Amalia is ‘untamed’. Her strong black curls define her face and shroud her in darkness. She often wears her hair in a thick braid, in an effort of trying to maintain some semblance of ‘neatness’. Even then, her wild hair escapes. It can not be properly contained. Amalia has the habit of intertwining colored ribbons in her hair, as she is not permitted to dye her hair and she likes the uniqueness. Her mother is strictly against the chemicals.

Because of her frequent helping in her father's Herbology garden, she has a tan skin. Her face is full of light colored freckles.

Amalia is small and slender for her age. Her posture is slightly slouched from the many hours, she spent reading at home, accompanied by her father and mother.

Her clothing style is a twist of wizard-like and Muggle. She loves oversized hoodies, so she can hide her hands when she is nervous. Her father gifted her a pair of Dragonhide boots for her tenth birthday, and they have yet to come off. She loves mismatching the laces in all different colours.



Mental:

Amalia’s parents raised her with a gentle hand. She hates confrontation and will always try to lighten the mood. This causes an opening for stronger personalities to push her over her own boundaries. Something she knows and needs to work through.

Amalia is soft-spoken. She will think through something before mentioning it. Sometimes causing herself to be overlooked.

Because of her upbringing, she is used to chaos. Her hippie mother always had guests over or some project going on. She thrives in social settings and knows how to make others feel welcome and loved.

Behind her quiet exterior lies a sweet, loyal friend. A girl who goes lengths to make people and herself thrive. She loves making handcrafted gifts and often keeps a listening ear out.



Biography:

Amalia grew up in a warm, loving and certainly eccentric family. Her days were filled with helping her herbologist father in his garden with his less dangerous plants and her nights were filled with helping her mother cleanse her crystals or help with another new craft project.

Her mother had a travelling nature-esque shop, run from her classic RV. The RV was a wild, old thing full of bumps and scratches from her mother's ‘adventures’. It always made lots of noise every time it started. The RV was painted in all the wildest colours and the passenger door was full of her family’s handprints. It had been an especially fun activity to paint the car and her mother loves the little paint marks of Amalia’s hands.

This shop and her mother's eccentricities made her mother a well-known local. Their little family travels around England, but always settles where ‘the atmosphere’ feels magical. Mostly settling in villages surrounded by nature and by some insane luck, the magical ley lines. Her father said her mother had some absurd nose for trouble.

They do stay in one place for the colder winter months, in her father's cottage. It was located in the tiny village of Totnes. It was a city known for its artsy and eco-friendly community. And also her grandparents from both sides lived there. Herbology was a treasured subject on her father's side, and her grandmother still had greenhouses filled with plants of Muggle and magical nature.

Growing up in her household was an adventure on its own. Her mother's boisterous, creative and chaotic nature always seemed to mellow out by her fathers calming gestures and his quiet personality. Amalia had learned to live in chaos and she loved it. Not that she couldn’t enjoy a good book or anything. In fact, her favourite pastime was reading.

Sometimes her mother's wild life made her feel smaller. Being surrounded in constant chaos could be draining. Amalia had learned to fill a ‘permitted’ space. Not that she wasn’t allowed to be loud or boisterous. There was just too much chaos for her poor father if 2 chaotic women would gang up on him.



First instance of magic:

Her mother had believed in magic long before she even met Amalia’s father. Therefore, it hadn’t been a shock that she married a Wizard. Still, their background where vastly different and after her travels she would sometimes come home with ‘a magical object’. This time it was a crystal rumoured to glow when hearing a lie. Her father was a kind but practical man, with experience in the wizard world. And also a familiarity with his wife’s naivety in ‘magical but Muggle-sold objects’.

Amalia always loved these new trinkets, even if they were faux. This time Amalia was persistent to be the one to test it. She wanted to know if ‘she would really sprout a longer nose if she lied about having completed all her tasks’. During her mothers and fathers insistant discusion about bringing ‘magical’ objects home without protection or the ostracising price of some of these, Amalia had had enough. She kept pushing herself in between her parents, trying to reach the little gem. Her grabby hand couldn’t wait until she got it. After another refusal from her mother. “You will get it later, Amalia. I’m explaining to your father why this could be an asset for us.” Her Father had intervened. “If it works, Vivienne.”

Amalia had rudely screeched her disagreement, ‘NO’ and thrown her little hands up in anger. The little gem had exploded in a rain of red sparks, leaving a bewildered family looking at their no longer new trinket. Amalia had looked up at her mother and whispered. “Oh, Ow. Bye bye.” Her tiny hand trying to catch some lingering gem dust.

The temper of the little 3 year old had done it again.