Hello, I'm Celia Rosenkreutz.

I'm from a small village near Tuam in the north-west of Ireland. My dad is from Germany. When he married my mum we moved here, but I was only four years old back then so I barely remember that. My dad still likes to speak the language with me though.

I also have a little brother named Keir. Once I was playing with him in the garden. In the middle there was a big hole where my dad wanted to build a swimming pool. He put planks on top so we wouldn't fall in. We liked to run over them because of the noise it made, even though we weren't allowed to do that. Then one day some of the planks slipped of the edge and my brother fell in. It was really deep and there was already hard concrete on the bottom. But my brother bounced right out again, not a scratch on his skin.

My parents didn't believe me back then, but I know now that it was the first bit of accidental magic I conciously remember. I had been really afraid and just wished for him to get out again. And then it happened. I was so relieved.

After my Hogwarts letter came my parents also told me that when I was six, all my red clothes changed colour when I threw a "temper tantrum" because I didn't want to wear the traditional clothing for a festival. It was red and apparently I had decided I didn't like red anymore. At least for a few months. My mum said that she thought my dad hat secretly dyed them even though he naturally denied any involvement. It seems silly to me now, but at least nobody was in danger and I had lots of fun wearing strangely coloured clothes the following few weeks.

Sometimes when my dad was watching my brother, I accompanied my mum to a
big warehouse with lots of different food items. She told me that it's for poor people and she was doing voluntary work there so they could use all the money for other people. I thought that was great. When I was older I sometimes helped her. She told me then that I'm responsible and independent and I think she said that because I was good at occupying myself and because I sometimes made breakfast when they didn't want to get up in the morning.

My dad only called me imaginative, for example when I wanted him to reenact a scene from a book I liked with me, though that may be because of the improvements I always suggested.

He called me optimistic too, and I can totally see that one. My parents can be pretty negative at times so my brother and I wrote down reasons why it's better to think positive which we read to them every time they feel bad. They always laugh then and we would make a big pile to cuddle together.

Personally I think I'm easily excitable. My dad thinks that's good. I agree. Because that way I always find something interesting to do. Some friends of me always complain about them being bored but that never happened to me.

Sometimes I'm too boastful, I'm told. That I can be too sensitive and I'm unable to handle critique. But I'm working on that. It's hard though.

I really look forward to attending classes at Hogwarts soon. I'm most excited about the magic of course. Because MAGIC! But I really hope to make good friends too. I imagine that even magic looses it's appeal after time if you have no-one to share it with.