Meave Fenhollow
- Status:
- Muggle-born
- Birthday:
- 18 Jul 2014
- Nationality:
- English
- Residence:
- Andover, England
- Function:
- First year, Hufflepuff
- Wand:
- 31,6 cm mayhaw wood and jackalope antler
*OOC Note- I am experiencing a huge decline in my mental health over the past 2 months or so, and I have not been on here as much as I wanted to. The decline hasn't gotten so bad that I can't sleep, eat or get up out of bed; sometimes I do have to go to the hospital for my depression. I'm sure some people have noticed I don't reply as often to their messages, and I am so sorry for that. I hope you guys can understand the reason for my sudden disappearance. /b]
Meave Fenhollow is small for her age, about 4’10”, with a build that looks like she’s always halfway between running somewhere or thinking about it. Her skin is pale and lightly freckled, and her hazel eyes tend to dart around like she’s trying to take in everything at once. Her hair is a soft brown that she keeps just past her shoulders—usually messy no matter what she does with it. She wears simple clothes, most of them a bit too big, but she adds her own touches: little stitched stars on her sleeves, mismatched buttons, ribbons she finds lying around.
Meave’s curious about pretty much everything. She asks a lot of questions, even the ones people don’t think to ask. She’s kind, a little awkward, and sometimes gets lost in her thoughts. Once she opens up, though, she’s funny and full of ideas. She can be stubborn when she believes she’s right and a bit too hard on herself when she’s not. More than anything, she wants to prove that being Muggle-born doesn’t make her any less capable of great things.
Meave grew up in a quiet English village with her mum, who works as a librarian, and her dad, who fixes cars. Their house is small but cozy, filled with stacks of books and the smell of tea and oil from her dad’s garage. She’s an only child, so she learned to keep herself entertained, usually by reading, exploring outside, or making up stories. After Meave's parents noticed she had been feeling a bit alone while exploring outside, they decided to get her a kitten, which she named Baxter. Her friends thought she was a bit odd sometimes, especially when weird things happened around her, but her parents always said she just had a big imagination.
When Meave was eight, she was reading a story under her blanket with a flashlight, trying to finish before her mum caught her awake. The light flickered and died, and she got so frustrated that tears stung her eyes. Then, suddenly, the words on the page began to glow on their own—soft and golden, like candlelight. She stared at them, completely stunned, until her parents came rushing in. The glow disappeared the moment they did. They thought she’d imagined it, but Meave never forgot.
Meave Fenhollow is small for her age, about 4’10”, with a build that looks like she’s always halfway between running somewhere or thinking about it. Her skin is pale and lightly freckled, and her hazel eyes tend to dart around like she’s trying to take in everything at once. Her hair is a soft brown that she keeps just past her shoulders—usually messy no matter what she does with it. She wears simple clothes, most of them a bit too big, but she adds her own touches: little stitched stars on her sleeves, mismatched buttons, ribbons she finds lying around.
Meave’s curious about pretty much everything. She asks a lot of questions, even the ones people don’t think to ask. She’s kind, a little awkward, and sometimes gets lost in her thoughts. Once she opens up, though, she’s funny and full of ideas. She can be stubborn when she believes she’s right and a bit too hard on herself when she’s not. More than anything, she wants to prove that being Muggle-born doesn’t make her any less capable of great things.
Meave grew up in a quiet English village with her mum, who works as a librarian, and her dad, who fixes cars. Their house is small but cozy, filled with stacks of books and the smell of tea and oil from her dad’s garage. She’s an only child, so she learned to keep herself entertained, usually by reading, exploring outside, or making up stories. After Meave's parents noticed she had been feeling a bit alone while exploring outside, they decided to get her a kitten, which she named Baxter. Her friends thought she was a bit odd sometimes, especially when weird things happened around her, but her parents always said she just had a big imagination.
When Meave was eight, she was reading a story under her blanket with a flashlight, trying to finish before her mum caught her awake. The light flickered and died, and she got so frustrated that tears stung her eyes. Then, suddenly, the words on the page began to glow on their own—soft and golden, like candlelight. She stared at them, completely stunned, until her parents came rushing in. The glow disappeared the moment they did. They thought she’d imagined it, but Meave never forgot.