Physical Description: I have shoulder-length blonde hair with blue-grey eyes and I am on the shorter and skinner side of the spectrum. I have a pale beauty mark just above my lips on the right side of my face and a light dusting of freckles during the summer months.

Mental Description: My nature is teasing and I love a bit of banter. Because of the way I grew up, I was not herded to be as professional and well-mannered as my siblings. Instead, I like to read between the lines to learn what makes people tick, then exploit that to get what I want. And I love to stir the pot. Being a general menace comes naturally to me. How else am I going to get the attention of my parents? I am clever with words and I don't take anything seriously. I'll break the rules without a second thought because maybe then mum and dad will come knocking on my door.

Biography: So you want to hear the story of an affair baby? Well, settle in kids. Dad's a pure-blood from a very distinguished family that's been living in Southend-On-Sea for over a century. He's married to a woman just like him. I call her Mum because she tells me to, but I know she and my other siblings resent me using that term. Why? Because Dad went ahead and cheated on Mum with some other lady. She was a pure-blood too, of course. Dad has standards, duh. Anyways, I was the result of that entanglement. But the lady was just barely into her twenties, so when my public-conscious parents offered to take care of me in exchange for her silence and a fair amount of galleons, she took the deal. I don't blame her. She was probably just as wary of public opinion as them. So I was whisked away to the Hemlocks' residence and became a new baby sister to my older siblings. They knew Mum wasn't pregnant, so it was obvious to them what had happened. Because all of them stand to inherit something of the Hemlocks, they remain cordial with me as per their etiquette training. But the side-eyes and isolation never escaped my observation skills. As for Mum and Dad, I think they really tried to accommodate for my presence in my early years, but as people started asking questions about the moment I appeared, they pulled away. I'm always watched over by a butler or maid or house elf, but it's not enough for me. Would it kill either one of them to just tell me that they love me?

First Instance of Magic: I was six years old, almost to my seventh birthday. I saw a dress that I wanted, but Mum was too busy watching the fitting for one of my older sisters so she wouldn't respond to me when I asked her to buy it. I threw a tantrum. Obviously. I wasn't standing next to my sister, but the dress she was trying on ripped from the bottom to her waistline. Ever since then, even though I struggle to get their attention, Mum and Dad spare no expense when it comes to me.