I'm a scrawny little thing of 130cm. Too short and somehow thin for my age, but very healthy. I've got quite messy, curly, ginger hair and greenish eyes. My skin is very fair and freckled. I've got a little pointy nose. I wear big round glasses (I'm awfully shortsighted) and my clothes are always stained by paint. I would never be called pretty, but I look friendly.

I'm boisterous and cheery. Always up for anything involving adventure. I'm talkative and outspoken. A bit too opinionated. I can be a little envious or selfish, but other than that I'm a kind, caring person.

My family is as normal as normal gets. I've got a very busy father, a stay at home mum, a twin and two younger sisters. So my home is a loud one. I help take care of the little ones after school as much as I manage mischief with my twin brother. I go to public school. I'm not very popular among my peers but have a couple of good friends and I enjoy studying. My passion is anything stage related and I dream of becoming an actress. I'm not too keen on going to Hogwarts and left my family behind (or my theater club) but my parents are convinced it is the only way I would grow to control my magic.

Ever since I was an infant some accidents would happen when I was having too big of a tantrum, like lightbulbs going off, but nothing too evident. It was always something that may seem coincidental. Until I was eight. One day I was climbing a tree with my twin when the branch he was seated at broke. But instead of taking him down it keep him suspended two feets upon the ground, floating. Ever since things start to move on their own every time I feel anxious... And that is pretty common.