She have very long wavy and fine white hair and gray eyes and a very pâle skin. She is very thin and has a small face. She has thin white eyebrow and small lips.
She is very happy and she like to create things and play by herself. She is introvert and don't talk much to others.
Her parents are very rich so she was homeschool but they didn't really spends time with her. Her father and mother both works at the Ministry of Magic and they want her to follow they're path. They were both at griffondor and want her to be at griffondor too. They hate Slytherin and don't want her to go there. She doesn't have any friends, she's not allowed to go out or to talk to the house elves so she is mostly alone. But sometimes she go out of her window at night and run to the close forest to the ruin and talk to animals even if she can't understand them and they can't understand her. She isn't allowed to do magic even if she want to because she's not supposed to before 17. She don't really care about hogwarts she just want to explore the forbidden forest and explore other place where she not allowed to go, and became powerful.
She was three years old when it happened.
Dinner had been long and quiet that evening, filled with the kind of silence that never felt empty, the kind that carried expectations. Her father had spoken only once, correcting the way she held her spoon. And her mother when she put her elbows on the table.
Later, when she was sent to bed, she sat alone in her nursery, staring at the shadows cast by the tall curtains. The house was always too still. She didn’t like the stillness it felt like the walls were listening.
A loud crack echoed outside her window. Just thunder, maybe, but it startled her. She froze, heart pounding, fear tightening her throat. The curtains trembled. At first, she thought it was the wind but the window was shut. The fabric shuddered again, this time harder, as though the air itself was shaking with her.
Her toys began to rattle on their shelves, one of them a small wooden horse toppled and hit the floor with a dull thud. The sound broke through the stillness, and in the next second, everything went quiet again.
When her parents entered, the room was calm once more. The curtains hung motionless, the air heavy and still. Her father’s eyes swept the nursery, then lingered on her. He didn’t raise his voice. He only looked at her for a long moment before saying, almost to himself,
"At least she won’t be a servant."