Long black hair, pale skin, bright blue eyes, slim, and a height of 4 feet 8.

Very joyous, sly, cunning, smart. Loves jokes when out with friends and loves to read when alone. Also loves arts and crafts, usually getting supplies on my birthday or for Christmas. I have a room all to my own.

I lived in the beautiful, rain-soaked city of Glasgow, Scotland, perched atop a windswept hill that overlooked rows of old stone houses and winding cobblestone streets. My childhood home always seemed wrapped in mist, with the distant sound of church bells echoing across the rooftops. Both my mom and dad, proud graduated Hogwarts students, worked as Apparition Examiners, spending their days testing wizards and witches on their magical travel skills. Our house was always filled with stories of their adventures and the odd, magical mishap. I was the eldest of three children, with two lively younger sisters who were forever getting into mischief and chasing each other around the house. Despite the noise and chaos, I often found myself alone, my only true companion being my loyal black cat, Salem, whose emerald eyes seemed to understand every secret I whispered to him during those long, rainy afternoons.



When I was five, I wanted an ice cream sandwich and some apple juice. My mom said no. Out of anger, I screamed, and the chandelier overhead swayed and flickered.