Alexandrie Deveraux | First Year | Ravenclaw

Full Name: Alexandrie Deveraux
House: Ravenclaw
Age: 12
Wand: 23.7 cm mayhaw wood and troll tail hair
School Year: 1st
Patronus:
Species: Human (muggle-born)

History/Background Story:

Reducio

Someone looking in from the outside might call her background troubled, but Alex doesn't see it that way. Both of her parents were muggles from a long line of muggles. How she sees things, her mother fell in love with a rich man's-her father's- money, and he did not love her in return. She's never met her father, and she's heard nothing good of him from her mother's mouth. The only thing she'd gotten from him was her surname.

Her mother never quite got over the loss of a wealthy lifestyle, despite having to move herself and her young daughter back home to Irvine, Scotland, with her parents. She soothed herself with wine and young men. Alex had grown used to spending most of her time with her grandparents, who were salt-of-the-earth folk.

The family home was small, but its proximity to the harbor developed a love of the sea in Alex. She would often wander down with a good book and enjoy the noises and smells of the place. Nothing eased her mind like staring out into the vast horizon and feeling smaller than a speck of dust on her sleeve.

Magic was not even a consideration for her in her life, being attracted to things that could be proven through science. Every small mishap her early magic may have caused could be easily explained away. A trick of the light, an overactive imagination. The idea of magic could lead to a very dangerous thing, hope. Hope was intangible and unhelpful. It provided nothing but disappointment as far as she was concerned. Nothing should be looked forward to without sufficient evidence that it would be worth doing. Thus, an acceptance letter to Hogwarts was quite a wrench in her well-oiled machine of reality.

Getting the letter and arriving at the station
Train Ride
Boat Ride

First Instance of Magic:

Reducio

Until her letter, Alex refused to remember her first memory of magic. Her grandmother and mother had been fighting; she was maybe five years old, sitting on the kitchen floor banging pans with a spoon. She couldn't remember what they had been arguing about, but at some point, the angry words had escalated in volume, and Alex had been frightened. She loved both of these people and had never seen them so ready to hurt one another. When she thought she could not take it anymore, she let out a sob, and the wine bottle next to her mother shattered. Alex had been picked up by her grandmother and brought to bed, and the incident was never spoken of again.