Physical Description: I'm 4'2, with silky, dark brown hair, which I keep in two long braids. I have light skin and a small freckle under my right eye. My eyes are hazel green, though they're more green than brown, both hidden behind gold-framed glasses, which I'm constantly adjusting. I have a round face and slight dimples in my cheeks when I smile, which I'm told I get from my father. I prefer to wear darker colors and oversized sweaters, paired with skirts and overall dresses, my fingernails perpetually painted shades of purple and pink, and kept short enough for me to draw. I usually carry my sketchbook and pencils with me in my satchel, which is covered in patches and used to belong to my mother.

Mental Description: I'm quiet and fairly hesitant to talk unless I have to, my voice soft enough that I have to repeat myself often. I like to watch more than anything, as I tend to stumble through conversations, and it gets me into trouble when people laugh due to my short temper. I am very good at taking things apart and figuring out how things work, but I'm rubbish at reading people, preferring the ease of conversation with my Nan's tabby cat Cinnimon over humans. I love to read, explore, draw, and paint, but I'm no good in a crowd, and if put on the spot, I tend to freeze.

I still struggle on the anniversary of my parents' deaths; they died on the 18th of December, and on that day, I am particularly sensitive and more prone to tears.

Biography: My grandad was Thomason Bellbrew, the youngest son and only Squib of the Bellbrew Family. Unlike other wizarding families, his parents did not disown him, and he remained on the edge of the wizarding world, working as a professor of philosophy and linguistics. My Nan, Eloise Pery, is a muggle—she always says her relationship with my grandad was magical, and that when he told her of the wizarding world, she didn’t believe him and laughed at the thought of people walking around with conical hats and riding broomsticks like the stories. But over the years, a collection of small reasons became the bedrock to her belief, largely due to his parents and siblings' slight magical use in front of her, though they kept it tame for Thom's sake. When my father was born, there was hope from the Bellbrew side that he would be magic, but he was Muggle through and through and loved nonetheless.

My parents met at university, my mother an international student from the States, born and raised in Ohio. She always told me my father was oblivious to a fault, that she fell for him long before he ever realized her affections, and by then, she was hopeless. Apparently, he made her laugh, and listened, and that was enough for her. Not long after their relationship ignited, I arrived, throwing their plans into chaos and making my father particularly nervous about his Bellbrew heritage, which had always been a point of concern. Though he died before I could ever really know him, it was my grandad who convinced them to move to the States, to live in my mother’s childhood home, which she had inherited from her late mother the previous year. Nan always told me that Grandad hoped I was pure Muggle, so I’d never have to feel the weight of the Bellbrew name, as my father had.

I loved Ohio, that house, big and old and cozy, tucked at the end of a street with similarly old houses. That was my home for 7 years, until the accident. It was cold, the roads were iced over, and both of my parents died in that crash. I was taken in by my Nan, moving back to Surrey to live with her in her cottage. Over the years, we’ve become more accustomed to one another, though she still prefers not to talk about the wizarding world, often redirecting me to my artwork or her true crime podcast, or telling me to read a book, which I do often. I’ve read many of my grandad's books, some of them I’m pretty sure are magic, but I don’t say anything to Nan out of fear she’ll put them up where I can't find them. Again.

First Instance of Magic: At age 8, Nan hid some of Grandad's books, and I got so frustrated and angry that all of his books started flying off the shelves, crashing all over his office.