I'm about 145 cm tall, which is slightly above average for an 11 year old. I've got a light to medium skin tone, depending on how much sun I've gotten recently. My eyes are a light blue, and my hair is naturally a light brown, but I keep it dyed a consistent tealish blue color. I've got freckles, and I'm almost always wearing clips in my hair.

I am competitive and don't like losing, but I play fair if everyone else does. Most days, you'll find me curled up somewhere, nose deep in whatever book caught my fancy - it's gotten me into trouble at school on more than one occasion. I take pride in my intellect, to the point that If I didn't have it, I'd probably have an identity crisis.

Pre-Hogwarts, I grew up in Bristol. When I was seven, my parents put me in a kid's football club, and I grew up in the sport. I was raised as a muggle kid till my letter came. My mum then told me a little bit about the world she came from in late-night whispers after my dad had gone to bed. Dad's a muggle, and I don't think he knows Mum isn't. Mum usually gets the post, so I don't know if Dad saw the letter to Hogwarts either. I'm fairly certain Mum just told him that I'm being sent to a muggle boarding school. I don't like keeping this a secret from him, but Mum doesn't seem ready to let him know, so I guess I'll follow her lead for now.

My first instance of magic was in one of my first soccer games soon after I turned 7 (I was a bit of a late bloomer, I guess). I get really competitive, and we were one goal off from winning and low on time left. I kicked the ball, and it went way too far to the left. I was so mad that at the last possible moment, the ball curved right into the back of the net. At the time, Mum explained it as physics and curving but told me the truth of the incident soon after my letter arrived.