I have brown curly hair, inherited from my dearly loved father. My facial features share the same size and shape as my poor mother. I grew up with little, but was always fed. But sometimes I want fed quite as much as I needed to be. That is why I have always been a little on the skinny side for someone my age. My hair tends to get in my way a bit, so I usually keep it tied up.

I was born on a fairly ordinary day in a simple London hospital. Until I was ten years old, things were fine. But one day, shortly before my eleventh birthday, tragedy struck. My father had perished in a work place fire. It came as a total shock, and I was left devastated. But three months later, I reveieved my letter. My mother was sceptical about sending me away, not believing in magic herself. She was afraid she would lose me, like she had lost my father. But she gave in in the end, and I am only too glad to escape the sadness of my normal life by completing my magical education. I believe that I am muggle-born, because my father never mentioned or showed any signs of magic. I am happy to be the first in my family to attend this prestigeous school.