Index Registration
Eban FrayCharacter name (First and last name):
First yearSchool Year or Adult Level:
here it isLink to the character page:
Character Statistics:
Reducio
Stamina
6
Evasion
6
Strength
5
Wisdom
6
ArcPower
6
Accuracy
6
Character Special Race/Talent: Talent: Race: Human, talent Prodigal Potions Learneradding Approved Prodigal Potions Learner , Lawrence Maynard, on 8th December here too:
ReducioEban's father always took his free time to go into the potion room he had stored in their home. Most of the time his father always took Eban with him to teach him the value of potion since he could talk and help out. "the way of making potion is like to make food" Eban's father always told him in the beginning of every lesson he gave Eban. They always started with reading the potion they gonna do that day. His father always knew it took longer for his son to learn things, so he always took his sweet time to be patience with him. He always knew how to teach correctly so Eban could remember every potion easier, his dad knew that Eban learns better in practice than just talk with the book, he knew Eban just zoned out if you just told him things by the book. So the way his father managed to get his attention is by doing it practical instead and teach him in a fun way.
So in the beginning of his first years of trying to teach Eban new things it was frustration for both Eban and his father, it was a lot of yelling from father side that why he didn't understand, and a lot of crying of frustration from Eban side, that he felt so stupid. Until Eban's mother came in the room and said calmly "Maybe try a different approach honey, clearly you can see that only teaching him over books doesn't work for him at all. you have to show him how to do it, and lett him also try it out at the same time as teaching him." She started before continue "That's how I managed to teach him to make food you know, and he rememberd it way easier when I showed him and lett him do it beside me. So maybe do it with potion too. "She took another break and took a hand over the shoulder to Eban and looked at her husband with a warm calm look at her face. and looked down at Eban and dried his face with a handchift and comfort Eban and looked up to her hesband again and said calmly"As you always say to both me and your son that Potion is almost the same as making food. You follow an ingredients list and how to do it. So it would be same for Potion to and thats how he can remember every detail of potion making at school too. It will be more fun for both you and Eban if you had a fun and joyfull twist with learning potion, so Eban can remember every potion when he starts at hogwart so he doesn't feel so wourthless when he start, but are willing to have fun while learning. so he maybe can adapped the same learning when he starts at hogwarts with the other classes, atleast he is ahead in potion classes that might be the most difficult start, but when you have teached him in a more fun ways, it isn't that difficult, but also way to easy for him." His father stood there for a bit in silent, he knew his wife had it right all along. He had seen how fast Eban had learn how to cook food and learned it with how his wife have teached him. So why not adjust that teaching method in potion making too. Also mix in fun ways to teach "Oh fine, you are so right, as you always are. Love that you remind me on that. Thank you." He said calmly and looked over to Eban. He smiled warmly over to Eban and asked"are you ready to learn potion in more fun and different learning method than what you are used to?"Now after many years fun in learning in very fun way, he didn't expect that he remembered everything that he learned from his dad. But he can't wait to learn more stuff in a fun way from his dad, but he still had a lot of questions of how things work, but he always got the answer he needed, that what he loves to learn new thing, even so it wasn't always it stuck with him in the beginning, but he got there in the end..
WC:722
Character Backstory:ReducioEban is the only child of Jack Fray and Alice Fray even so Eban wants a brother or a sister he can play with, so he doesn't feel so alone when he playes outside of his home, both are Ministry of Magic employees working in Law Enforcement. The Fray family is long-associated with the Ministry, and many of their relatives work in either Law Enforcement or the Department of International Magical Co-operation.
The Frays live in a large, well-kept home filled with numerous rooms, including a sizable library, several offices, and a personal potions room that Jack uses for hobby brewing. Eban grew up surrounded by books, regulations, and expectation but also genuine love from both of his parents. They are strict, orderly, and discipline-focused, but they deeply care for their son.
They don’t mind which Hogwarts house Eban ends up in but like most of their lineage, they quietly hope for Slytherin, but he ended up in hufflepuff. They aren't mad for that either, the hat is never wrong they said.
Eban’s knowledge of magic is average for his age; his parents taught him the fundamentals without overwhelming him. But still he already forgot most part of it, even so he still has his nose in books, but most books he reads is fantasy dragon books, or his time he uses for painting.
WC: 224
First Instance of Magic:ReducioEban must have been around four years old when his magic surfaced for the first time. It was an autumn evening, the kind where the air smells like cold earth and dry leaves. He had been playing outside, jumping into the piles of leaves that had gathered beneath the old tree near the house.
But one jump went wrong. He misjudged the distance and landed hard beside the pile instead of in it. The fall stung, and the shock of it made him burst into tears. He sat there on the ground, small and hurting, crying for someone, anyone, to hear him.
No one came. Or at least, that’s what he thought. The longer he cried, the more alone he felt. That loneliness twisted into frustration, and frustration into a hot, shaking anger. He felt it hot rise inside him until suddenly, a crackle of flame leapt from the pile of leaves.
Inside the house, his father had seen everything through the window. The moment he saw the sparks, he rushed outside. Eban, still sobbing, didn’t notice him. He didn’t see how quickly his father stamped out the flames, or how scared the man looked as he scooped his little boy into his arms.
To Eban, it still felt like nobody had been there for him untill now. He didn’t know that in his outburst could end like this, he had lit the leaves to flames. But his father knew. He had seen it clearly.
Back inside, his father ran a warm bath to wash off the dirt and tears, wrapped him in a towel, and a house elf came with hot cocoa to both of them and left the room right after. They sat together in front of the fireplace while the flames crackled softly controlled, safe this time and talked about what had happened and have a bit of understanding of what just went outside and what magic was.
WC:321
STATUS: Pending, Anthonie, 19/12/25
Please ensure that your statistics add up to 35.
STATUS: Approved, Anthoie, 21/12/25
Last edited by Eban Fray on 19 Dec 2025, 11:58, edited 1 time in total.
Should I? Purhapse. Will I? Nooo, Do I enjoy being difficult? Mooost deffently!
"I just want to live, is that so wrong? Why doesn't anybody else want that?"
Index Registration
Character name (First and last name): Demitria Lovelace
School Year or Adult Level: first
Does any Profile Card info need changing? No
Link to the character page: viewtopic.php?p=1447570#p1447570
Character Statistics: stamina • 7 | evasion • 5 | strength • 3 | wisdom • 7 | arcane power • 7 | accuracy • 6
Character Special Race/Talent: None
Character Backstory:ReducioThe Lovelaces are built on power and connections. They have risen greatly in prominence in England's pureblood society as of late due to political moves, careful alliances, and long-standing traditions. To the outside eye, the Lovelace name is a splendid one. They look polished, put together, perfect. On the inside, they are anything but. Demitria's father, Beau Lovelace, is a man deeply concerned with reputation and power. He believes love can always be used against you and that such weaknesses should be avoided if at all possible. A tall, handsome man, he married Adelina Rosewood when both were quite young, but seventeen. The alliance was made between the families as a way to ensure a pure and wealthy bloodline since Adelina also came from a prestigious wizarding family. She was once known for her ambition and brilliance, but however gave much of herself up when she wed Beau. Their marriage is not entirely loveless, but it is decently close and quite strained at times. It is still together almost solely because of obligations and appearances. From a young age, Demitria realised that love and affection were conditional and were often a performance for others, not genuine. They rarely saw each other, and when they did, it was coldness. From the moment she was born, Demitria was seen as an investment of sorts by her father and an ideal for lost potential by her mother. As an only child, she is the sole direct heiress of the Lovelace fortune, lands, and title, and her father made sure she never forgot it. She was quite lonely, and grew used to solitude. Her parents insisted on private tutelage, wanting to give her a proper education and teach her pureblood ideals and not wishing her to be influenced by anything else. When it was discovered that she, too, had magic, she became more pampered and given less correction. She had learned that power gave freedom, and she embraced this way of thinking wholeheartedly. Her relationship with her parents is, in a word, distant. She is rather afraid of her father, and always feels the crushing weight of her mother's resentment. Demitria fears being trapped the same way Adelina was, and this fuels her to be determined to seize control over her own life. Dimitria grew up quite priviliged and was indulged and spoiled from the very first. However, she was neglected emotionally, which led to her feeling broken and isolated. Her pride and selfishness comes from a childhood where she was rarely denied small pleasure but where her feelings were not really acknowledged. She yearns to earn her parents' affection, fulfill her goals of greatness, and prove she is more than just her family's name. For now, the only way she knows how to do that is by playing the part. She is the perfect pureblood daughter: smart, refined, elegant, composed, obedient. However beneath the mask is a growing resentmant and restlessness. She longs for more, yet doesn't know what. When she recieves her letter to Hogwarts, she is excited and apprehensive for this new chance to be free, be challenged, and perhaps define herself as more than a pretty face and the Lovelace name.
First Instance of Magic:ReducioDemitria's first instance of magic happened rather late, when she was around six years old. She became fed up with her tutor one day while he was badgering her to learn terms, and in a fit of anger and annoyance caused his chair to fly back and tip over, knocking him onto the ground and leaving both Demi and her tutor momentarily astonished. Instead of being punished as she feared, it became a day of celebration for her and her parents as it was confirmed that she had magic within.
STATUS: Pending, Anthonie, 19/12/25
Please remove spells and potions from your trunk.
STATUS: Approved, Anthoie, 19/12/25
Index Registration
Charlotte Lorelai Duarte wrote: 17 Dec 2025, 18:48Physical description: Charlotte has light blonde hair that reaches her shoulders. She is 4'7" tall with average weight. Her face is round-shaped, decorated with bright blue/green eyes (depending on the lighting), rosy lips, and a few light freckles on the bridge of her nose. She has high cheekbones and blushes really easily. Charlotte's hair is wavy and can be really frizzy after a day outside, so she always uses the necessary products like oil and hair masks to ensure her hair stays smooth, because she is quite insecure about that. She is often found with wool sweaters, French braids, and blue jeans.STATISTICS
NICKNAME
Charlotte Lorelai Duarte
HOUSE
Ravenclaw
PATRONUS
NoneSPECIES
Human
SCHOOL YEAR
First
BOGGART
NoneAGE
11
BLOOD
Pureblood
PET
NoneTo love is to be loved
Mental Description: Charlotte is smart and very structured. She loves to make lists and schedules because it gives her control over life. She pays great attention to people and always makes them feel seen, because she knows that it's not always easy if people don't listen to you. She is very book smart but not very socially smart. Because of that, she often finds herself in awkward situations, failing to understand what someone was meaning or trying to tell her. On the other hand, in class, she is one of the first to understand links between the learning material. She gets stressed easily but knows how to handle the stress without it becoming te veel. She loves writing stories and is very creative.
First appearance of Magic: When I was 8 years old, I walked downstairs for breakfast. I had been dying for my first magic and was scared I wasn't a witch at all. Jasper was only 3 years old back then and really liked to explore places he wasn't supposed to go. When I walked downstairs, the first thing I spotted was Jasper, who was falling over the edge of our fluffy carpet in the living room. Behind him was the edge of a glass table. If he were to fall back, the edge of the table would hit him in the back. My reflexes kicked in, and I reached for him, a bit silly because I was at least 8 feet away, and purple sparks flew out of my hand, and with my magic, I had pushed back the table, and Jasper fell down on the rug, unhurt. My parents were so delighted that they told practically everyone who had ears about this.
Backstory: Charlotte's parents made sure that she has a very comfortable and a very warm giving filled home. It was a house filled with laughter. People were laughing in the morning, afternoon and even in the night. Her parents were with her every step of the way. They were her biggest fans and her best comfort at the same time. Besides, she was not only close to her parents but also to her two brothers. They played wrestling on the living room floor. Made forts out of blankets and chairs. Created memes that no one could resist laughing at. At school she had a lot of friends. She was going to lunch with the best group. Playing kickball in the playground with the others. Trading stickers with the kids she met at the breaks. However, none of those friends went beyond the surface with her. They only saw her smiles and quick laughs. They never noticed that Charlotte had quiet dreams and was afraid of something. Failing to have a real connection with others did not at all weigh on her conscience. She chose to ignore it as if it was a hand from a deck of cards. Instead of that, she invested her time in playing in the backyard. She didn't notice the time while she was playing on the old swing set. The more she strengthened her hands on the ropes of the swing, the higher she was flying, the wind was her hair. She did many long swims in the pool. She hit the water at the brothers' side during races and danced across the grass at wild games of tag. She played the roles of the catcher and the chased alternatively until her cheeks got red and she was out of breath.
Family
Thomas Duarte
Jasper Duarte
Encyclopaedia link:viewtopic.php?t=42957
𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓼:
𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕒: 7
𝔼𝕧𝕒𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟: 5
𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕘𝕥𝕙: 6
𝕎𝕚𝕤𝕕𝕠𝕞: 5
𝔸𝕣𝕔ℙ𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣: 7
𝔸𝕔𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕪: 5𝓐𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓮𝓼:
None
STATUS: Pending, Anthonie, 19/12/25
1. Please include your backstory in both your application and your encyclopaedia. Please include your encyclopaedia link in your application.
2. Please translate this sentence (die achteruit struikelde over ons fluffy tapijt in de woonkamer) from Dutch to English.
STATUS: Pending, Anthonie, 21/12/25
Your backstory must meet 220 words.
STATUS: Approved, Anthoie, 21/12/25
Last edited by Charlotte Lorelai Duarte on 21 Dec 2025, 12:37, edited 3 times in total.
Index Registration
Name: Lucy Charly Williams
Schoolyear: 1
Link: viewtopic.php?f=169&t=42956
Character values:
Race/Talent: Parselmouth
Application for Parselmouth:
From the moment I was born, magic has never felt distant or abstract to me. It has always been something woven quietly into my life—most of the time hidden, but sometimes it comes out. I believe my magical talent comes from both inheritance and circumstance, shaped by a childhood spent alone, curious, and unafraid of pushing boundaries.
My earliest clear encounter with magic happened when I was seven years old. I had grown used to sneaking out of the house to visit my best friend, Terry, by jumping from my kitchen window into the neighboring garden. On one rainy afternoon, I slipped mid-jump and fell. I should have hit the ground hard enough to be seriously injured, but instead I stopped in midair. I floated—long enough to realize something was wrong, or perhaps right—before landing safely. No spell, no wand, no words. Just instinct. That moment revealed my natural affinity for instinctive, uncontrolled magic, especially magic tied to self-preservation. Even now, I find that my strongest spells surface when I am under pressure or danger.
Looking back, this was not the first sign. When I was four, during a visit to the zoo, I spoke to a snake without realizing how strange it was. At the time, it felt completely natural, like speaking to another person. I no longer remember the words or the feeling clearly, but the memory lingers as something important. Though I can speak Parseltongue now, but I try to not do it. This talent is rare and often feared, but I see it as a sign of old, powerful magic rather than something dark by nature.
I believe this ability comes from my father, Charles Williams. Though my mother refuses to speak about him and insists only that I must never become like him, the traces he left behind are undeniable. His belongings fill the attics of our house—objects I do not yet understand, photographs that suggest a life steeped in advanced or unusual magic. The wand I was chosen by at Hogwarts—cherry wood with a dragon heartstring core—confirms this lineage. Dragon heartstring is known for power, unpredictability, and a tendency toward impressive magic, traits that mirror both my accidental magic and my personality.
Being sorted into Slytherin felt inevitable. I am resourceful, determined, and willing to take risks to learn more about the world around me. I spend much of my time alone, which has forced me to rely on my own creativity and courage. My curiosity often outweighs my caution, and I am always eager to test my limits—magical or otherwise.
In conclusion, my magical talent is not defined by a single spell or ability, but by a deep, inherited power that responds to danger, emotion, and curiosity. It comes from my father’s bloodline, awakened by isolation and strengthened by independence. Magic, to me, is not something to fear—it is something to understand, master, and eventually, to choose what to become.
Jasmina
Schoolyear: 1
Link: viewtopic.php?f=169&t=42956
Character values:
Race/Talent: Parselmouth
Application for Parselmouth:
From the moment I was born, magic has never felt distant or abstract to me. It has always been something woven quietly into my life—most of the time hidden, but sometimes it comes out. I believe my magical talent comes from both inheritance and circumstance, shaped by a childhood spent alone, curious, and unafraid of pushing boundaries.
My earliest clear encounter with magic happened when I was seven years old. I had grown used to sneaking out of the house to visit my best friend, Terry, by jumping from my kitchen window into the neighboring garden. On one rainy afternoon, I slipped mid-jump and fell. I should have hit the ground hard enough to be seriously injured, but instead I stopped in midair. I floated—long enough to realize something was wrong, or perhaps right—before landing safely. No spell, no wand, no words. Just instinct. That moment revealed my natural affinity for instinctive, uncontrolled magic, especially magic tied to self-preservation. Even now, I find that my strongest spells surface when I am under pressure or danger.
Looking back, this was not the first sign. When I was four, during a visit to the zoo, I spoke to a snake without realizing how strange it was. At the time, it felt completely natural, like speaking to another person. I no longer remember the words or the feeling clearly, but the memory lingers as something important. Though I can speak Parseltongue now, but I try to not do it. This talent is rare and often feared, but I see it as a sign of old, powerful magic rather than something dark by nature.
I believe this ability comes from my father, Charles Williams. Though my mother refuses to speak about him and insists only that I must never become like him, the traces he left behind are undeniable. His belongings fill the attics of our house—objects I do not yet understand, photographs that suggest a life steeped in advanced or unusual magic. The wand I was chosen by at Hogwarts—cherry wood with a dragon heartstring core—confirms this lineage. Dragon heartstring is known for power, unpredictability, and a tendency toward impressive magic, traits that mirror both my accidental magic and my personality.
Being sorted into Slytherin felt inevitable. I am resourceful, determined, and willing to take risks to learn more about the world around me. I spend much of my time alone, which has forced me to rely on my own creativity and courage. My curiosity often outweighs my caution, and I am always eager to test my limits—magical or otherwise.
In conclusion, my magical talent is not defined by a single spell or ability, but by a deep, inherited power that responds to danger, emotion, and curiosity. It comes from my father’s bloodline, awakened by isolation and strengthened by independence. Magic, to me, is not something to fear—it is something to understand, master, and eventually, to choose what to become.
STATUS: Denied, Anthonie, 19/12/25
1. Parselmouth Application: a. Does not meet word count requirement. b. Is AI generated.
2. Backstory & Character Stats: must be provided
3. Trunk Post: must be provided in encyclopaedia
Jasmina
Index Registration
Character name (First and last name): Alex Thompson
School Year or Adult Level: First Year
Does any Profile Card info need changing? No
Link to the character page: Alex
Character Statistics: Stamina - 5| Evasion - 5| Strength - 5| Wisdom - 7| Arcane Power - 6| Accurancy - 7
Character Backstory:
ReducioAlex has a small family of three. He, his father, and his mother. His father was a 6'0 feet tall man with a build that could intimidate anyone. He was handsome and had blue eyes like Alex and short black hair. Her mother, on the other hand, was 5'7. She was drop-dead gorgeous with her hazel brown eyes and long, wavy brown hair. His father works as an Auror in the Head of Department of Magical Law and Enforcement. His mother is a housewife and takes care of him. Alex's childhood was filled with love and the lessons his parents poured into him. His father, being an Auror, was quite strict and always taught him how to behave, and how to take care, while his mother was also a bit strict, but she also pampered Alex a bit. Both his parents love him dearly. Alex, being a cheerful boy, has many friends. Alex grew up looking forward to his father and always wanted to be an Auror like his father was. Alex learned about magic at a very young age and was exposed to magic because he came from a pure-blood family. His father told him stories about the times when he caught dark wizards and took them to Azkaban. Alex was always fascinated by these stories, which ignited the flame in him to become an Auror like his father. While his father taught him everything about being an Auror, his mom was no less. His mom taught him some of the most important lessons, which were how to be kind, commpassionate and how to help people. His mother was also a great witch, as was one of the best students during her time in Hogwarts,s and was in Ravenclaw, showcasing her intelligence.
First Instances of Magic -
ReducioAlex was having his 7th birthday on the 1st of April. He was having a blast. His friends were all around him. They were all laughing, playing, eating candy, and destroying the house. Today, his father and mother promised him that there would be no restrictions on him and that he could do anything he wished. He, along with his friends, was jumping around the couch, stuffing candies into their mouths, and throwing pillows at each other. In the chaos of this, one of Alex's close friends, Jake, knocked over Yash's birthday cake. It was a chocolate cake, the flavour Alex loved the most, and it was made by his mother. He immediately dropped beside the destroyed cake. His heart sank by the time he realized that the cake was destroyed. Before anyone could say, Alex exploded in sobs. He sobbed and turned into a crying person pretty much immediately. His friends circled him, looking at him, sobbing beside the destroyed cake, not able to understand what to do. Alex didn't say anything and kept sobbing. Jake looked like he might also cry because of the guilt of destroying the cake of one of his best friends. But something was getting different. As Alex cried, Alex's dad noticed a nearby glass of orange juice shaking slightly. Alex's crying increased, and so did the glass's shaking. Alex gave a loud yelp, and the glass shattered, glass shards falling, and the orange juice spilling over the table. Alex's father took all the children out and dropped them off at their homes while Alex's mother comforted him. After returning, Alex's father explained to him everything that made him a little better. Soon after, on Alex's 11th birthday, he received his letter to Hogwarts.
STATUS: Approved, Anthonie, 19/12/25
"It is the quality of one's convictions that determines success, not the number of followers."
~Remus Lupin
Index Registration
Character name (First and last name): Lili Blue Forester
School Year or Adult Level: First year
Does any Profile Card info need changing? add a dash between Lili and Blue
Link to the character page: https://hogwarts.io/viewtopic.php?f=169&t=42620
Race/Talent: Race: Werewolf
How Lili Blue became a werewolf : 899 words
ReducioThe werewolf attack happened during a weekend Where I had been able to leave Hogwarts. . November 6th was my dad's birthday and at their request I was able to go home! The first month had been long; I had to adapt, master all the necessary vocabulary, and get used to all the corridors and staircases of the castle—in short, it was tiring. Even if I only came home for a few days, I would be able to rest. My parents and my four older brothers picked me up at the London train station. They were so happy to see me that they gave me a big hug. I wasn't unhappy about it; I had missed them so much. I almost cried when they let go. Once the reunion was over, we all went home together, singing and telling stories of all the mishaps that had happened to us during our long separation.
When I got home, I put everything in my room and went back downstairs to help decorate the living room and the house for Dad's birthday. Once all the decorations were up, my brothers came to help me tidy my room. We took out my books, notebooks, countless bottles of ink, quills, parchment, and finally, all the books I had brought from home. Once everything was in order, we started to gather all the books about witches and werewolves, vampires, and other monsters, because at home it was customary to read a monster story every night for a week before Dad's birthday this year will only be for two days. Dad loves scary stories, so it's become a custom! .
The first night, a full moon night after the story, I asked to go out into the forest because it had been so long. Mom and Dad said yes, so I put on my boots and my big coat and went out into the night. The moon was shining so brightly that I could walk without really being afraid of falling into any holes. Even though it was a full moon night, I couldn't see any small animals. The owl, which usually hooted every night, didn't make a single sound. I found it strange; a quiet forest is never a good sign. I moved forward cautiously, and suddenly a branch cracked. I turned around quickly. There was nothing there; the canopy of trees had hidden some of the moonlight. My heart was pounding; I was getting more and more scared. I heard another branch crack and a growl. I turned around, and a wolf was facing me.
Unlike normal wolves, it had a strangely shorter muzzle and a bushy tail. Its eyes drew me in; they didn't resemble those of an animal but rather a human. Its lips dripped with saliva, it had enormous fangs, and it was unusually large for a wolf. As my mother had taught me, I backed away in small steps, but the horrible beast advanced at the same time as I retreated. Suddenly, the beast lunged at me, and all I could do was scream. It landed on top of me and then backed away. I hadn't even had time to get up before it was already sinking its fangs into my leg. I screamed in pain and lost consciousness. The last things I saw and heard were my parents' screams and beams of light.
The rest of the story was told to me by my mother when I woke up. My parents, friends of my parents but also of one of my friends from Hogwarts and my childhood friend, had received an urgent call from the Ministry of Magic. They'd been told that a werewolf was in the Cotswolds. They located it and arrived just in time to save my life. I wasn't in mortal danger; the wound on my thigh had almost healed, even though I was in excruciating pain. But the only consequence was that I would have the scar and that with each full moon, I would transform into a werewolf. Upon hearing this, I asked my family to leave me alone for a few minutes, and they agreed. Be a werewolf? I already spent most of my time alone, so now that I was a monster, what would become of me? My brothers came into my room and told me jokes and showed me the positive aspects of being a werewolf. There weren't many, but it was enough to cheer me up.
My friend's parents came home with mine. I thanked them profusely; they had saved my life, and I was incredibly grateful. They explained that I was in a hospital specializing in witchcraft injuries. I wouldn't be able to leave for another two weeks, so at the end of the holidays. The pain was almost unbearable, so I lay back down, nodding in agreement, and rested as best I could through the tears streaming down my cheeks.
The St. Mungo's, where I was being treated by wizards for my injury, had informed Hogwarts that I would need two weeks to recover. My parents had been told and explained how they should react, or rather, what to do, when the full moon arrived. They haven't explained everything to me yet, but I think I'll have to be isolated or locked away so my brothers or parents aren't affected by me. I truly hope I never hurt anyone.
Character Statistics: Stamina - 7| Evasion - 7| Strength - 7| Wisdom - 3| Arcane Power - 3| Accurancy - 3
Character Story
ReducioHello, my name is Lili Blue. My parents named me that because Lili refers to nature and Blue to the color of my eyes. I'm 11 years old. I was born on October 18, 2014. I'm English and I live in the Cotswolds. I come from a family where we aren't wizards; I'm the only one in the family. I'm of average height, I have long black hair, blue eyes, a gentle face, almost invisible freckles, and fair skin. I like to dress in black, but I also really like other colors.
I am a shy, reserved, but very kind person. I love rain, storms, the forest, autumn, and winter. I love music, poems, reading books, and nature. I don't like talking or being the center of attention. I am a studious girl and I am very much like my mother. I lack self-confidence and I don't trust others easily. I prefer to be outside or in an armchair reading a book. I am very cheerful and smiley with my family, but I am the complete opposite in class.
In my family, there are six of us: My dad, Colin, is 48 years old. He has short, brown hair and hazel eyes. He's kind and caring. He works as a ranger and caretaker for the forest and its animals. My mom, Hazel, has long, dark hair and blue eyes. She's kind, gentle, and caring. Like Dad, she works as a ranger and caretaker for the forest and its animals. And then there are my four older brothers, who all look like Dad. Their names are Andrew, Matthew, Sean, and Liam. Andrew and Matthew work with Mom and Dad, while Sean and Liam are studying to work with Mom and Dad too.
As a child at school I was often isolated and bullied people who didn't like me. I was different. I preferred to read a book or go out into nature rather than watch things on TV or be on screens. I never went out with friends or went to a birthday party. In addition to that, my blue eyes made everyone laugh. I never really understood why. I found my eyes very beautiful, but he said that I had eyes that were too big for my face and that I looked like a monster.
Luckily, at home, I always had my brothers to help me, but it's true that sometimes I would have preferred him to be with me at school, so I'd have people to talk to. When I was little, my mother often wanted to take us for walks in our forest, and little by little, I learned the paths by heart. We had never been in the forest before. We never tried to make our own trails, pull up plants or brambles, and we wore boots to protect ourselves. We walked on paths already made by animals, so we would get used to them and not harm nature.
First Insistence of Magic
ReducioI think the first time I did magic was about four years ago. I was six years old and playing with my toy when I fell and it fell into a hole. The hole was very deep, and I couldn't get my toy out. I got really angry and started hitting everything, running around, and shouting. That's when I tripped again, but not on a pebble, but on my toy. I shrugged; maybe I hadn't seen it properly, so I went back to playing.
One summer day, a professor from a prestigious magic school came to tell my parents that I was going to Hogwarts, the magic school he attended. A little worried at first, I ended up really loving the idea of having been accepted into a magic school.
STATUS: Pending, Sage, December 20th
I have a few notes for you before I can approve this application.
-Please remove the colored text from your trunk.
-You mention that Lili only has brothers, but later say she has both brothers and sisters. Does she actually have sisters?
-You mention someone named "Nick" in your backstory, but he is not mentioned anywhere else. Who is Nick to Lili?
-You've requested your blood-status to be changed to half-blood, but you have referred to Lili as a muggle-born everywhere else. I cannot make this change for you.
-Normally, students are not able to go home for family members' birthdays. You'll need to edit this in your werewolf application.
-Why is Lili's Hogwarts friend there when she's turned? Why wouldn't they be at Hogwarts?
-I'm assuming you meant St. Mungo's Hospital, please edit "Mongoose Hospital' to St. Mungo's.
STATUS: Approved, Sage, December 23rd
Pending - Jess, 16th January 2026
- Apologies for un-approving this, but someone caught an error & brought it to me. You state Lili-Blue was going home for her father's birthday, but given that Hogwarts is a boarding school, we would require more specific reasoning for her to be able to go home. It would need to either be an emergency or during an exeat weekend, which are specifically scheduled. Please edit this & owl me when you have done so.
STATUS: Approved - Jess, 18th January 2026
Last edited by Lili-Blue Forester on 17 Jan 2026, 10:07, edited 8 times in total.
Index Registration
Character name: Valour Inoka Argentum
School Year or Adult Level: 1st Year
Does any Profile Card info need changing?: I would like to change their place of residence to Oxford - their family's academic background suits the environment of Muggle academics and libraries.
Link to the character page: viewtopic.php?t=42993
Character Statistics:
Character Special Race/Talent: Seer
Character Backstory:
First Instance of Magic:
School Year or Adult Level: 1st Year
Does any Profile Card info need changing?: I would like to change their place of residence to Oxford - their family's academic background suits the environment of Muggle academics and libraries.
Link to the character page: viewtopic.php?t=42993
Character Statistics:
Reducio
Stamina: 5
Evasion: 8
Strength: 5
Wisdom: 2
ArcPower: 1
Accuracy: 9
Evasion: 8
Strength: 5
Wisdom: 2
ArcPower: 1
Accuracy: 9
Character Special Race/Talent: Seer
Reducio
Ever since they were young, Valour had a sharp intuition. They always seemed to duck out of sight just in time and knew exactly when to make an entrance. Their parents had always simply considered them free-spirited and independent, growing to trust them to stay out of trouble with their sharp perception and seeming sixth-sense about these things. When Ambrose invited over unpleasant guests, Valour would conveniently disappear into the gardens. When Kaavya insisted they spent their evening brushing up on their scales, Valour had already fetched their violin. Their talent wasn't just limited to coming and going. This skill of theirs lent itself well to Quidditch. They were the bane of other children's existence, rapidly dodging and striking Bludgers despite their unpredictable movements. They always seemed to be in the right place at the right time.
Many just figured they have that same air of wisdom as their mother. Kaavya had her quirks too, in her own way. She had always been superstitious, devoting a lot of her life to the study of the stars and trying to decipher their meaning. Yet, some days, her forecasting seemed less scientific and more like an indescribable urge. Kaavya made a point to always listen to that instinct, despite not quite understanding it. She took after her own mother and grandmother in that sense. Sometimes it meant unexpectedly pulling Valour out of lessons one day, avoiding certain steps on the stairs or demanding that Ambrose avoided certain colleagues. Valour's father was always a open-natured man, and trusted his wife's tendencies; after all, they had never steered them wrong.
It was their grandmother who first noticed the peculiar luck Valour seemed to possess. Vada Argentum had a part-time interest in Non-Humans despite her academic background in Astrology. One day, when Valour was in her care, she decided to pour over their family records, scanning family trees and old birth certificates. She was lucky; being one of the oldest wizarding families, they prided their excellent preservation of ancestral artifacts. It was there that she spotted an intriguing portrait. A young woman with glossy, white eyes, similar to the striking grey of Valour's. Their paternal great-great-great-great aunt, Allene Meridian. With some more digging, she uncovered more about the Meridian branch of the family, who had produced a few very successful Seers. Scanning further back, she found journals with mentions of a few more cousins with peculiar talents. One, Cassian Solvayne - she noted that one down in her diary. Another, Altair Argentum. Mentions of an Ariadne Cinnabarre.
Soon, dusk had fallen over the estate, with Vada sat at a desk entirely covered in stacks of decaying documents. All the while, nine-year-old Valour had curled up on a plush velvet armchair, fast asleep. It was only a theory of Vada's, after all, she knew nothing of Kaavya's estranged muggle family, and Valour was only young. Perhaps they were just observant and awfully lucky. Nonetheless, Vada tucked the photo in her pocket, shooting Valour a wise smile. She thought it best to just keep this between them for now.
Many just figured they have that same air of wisdom as their mother. Kaavya had her quirks too, in her own way. She had always been superstitious, devoting a lot of her life to the study of the stars and trying to decipher their meaning. Yet, some days, her forecasting seemed less scientific and more like an indescribable urge. Kaavya made a point to always listen to that instinct, despite not quite understanding it. She took after her own mother and grandmother in that sense. Sometimes it meant unexpectedly pulling Valour out of lessons one day, avoiding certain steps on the stairs or demanding that Ambrose avoided certain colleagues. Valour's father was always a open-natured man, and trusted his wife's tendencies; after all, they had never steered them wrong.
It was their grandmother who first noticed the peculiar luck Valour seemed to possess. Vada Argentum had a part-time interest in Non-Humans despite her academic background in Astrology. One day, when Valour was in her care, she decided to pour over their family records, scanning family trees and old birth certificates. She was lucky; being one of the oldest wizarding families, they prided their excellent preservation of ancestral artifacts. It was there that she spotted an intriguing portrait. A young woman with glossy, white eyes, similar to the striking grey of Valour's. Their paternal great-great-great-great aunt, Allene Meridian. With some more digging, she uncovered more about the Meridian branch of the family, who had produced a few very successful Seers. Scanning further back, she found journals with mentions of a few more cousins with peculiar talents. One, Cassian Solvayne - she noted that one down in her diary. Another, Altair Argentum. Mentions of an Ariadne Cinnabarre.
Soon, dusk had fallen over the estate, with Vada sat at a desk entirely covered in stacks of decaying documents. All the while, nine-year-old Valour had curled up on a plush velvet armchair, fast asleep. It was only a theory of Vada's, after all, she knew nothing of Kaavya's estranged muggle family, and Valour was only young. Perhaps they were just observant and awfully lucky. Nonetheless, Vada tucked the photo in her pocket, shooting Valour a wise smile. She thought it best to just keep this between them for now.
Character Backstory:
Reducio
Valour was born to Kaavya de Silva and Ambrose Argentum, a muggle-born witch and a pureblood wizard. The Argentum family was a powerful wizarding clan, known for their prominence in academia. Of pureblood heritage and a looming reputation, they were revered in the Wizarding World; Ambrose and his siblings had a comfortable childhood of incredibly high expectations. All flourished into exceptional careers. Valour’s mother, by contrast, was estranged from her muggle family, living independently as young as she could. They did not accept her exceptional capabilities as a witch and, out of confusion and fear, shunned her until she had no option but to seek emancipation. She was pleasantly surprised to find that she was swiftly welcomed as an Argentum.
Both Dr and Dr Argentum continued the family legacy by going into study, Alchemy and Astronomy respectively, and pioneered new magical research. Thus, Valour’s family history was also both privilege and pressure. They were raised in an enviable estate, surrounded by books and stained glass. An only child, left to bear the unspoken expectation to succeed and excel. Their relationship with their parents was more akin to a student and professors. They didn’t mind it so much; Kaavya and Ambrose instilled them with discipline, curiosity and a sharp sense of humour anyhow.
They grew up a lonely but content child, but soon went on to yearn for more outside of the walls of their home. Valour developed a mean streak, skipping their homeschooling, sneaking out at night and dabbling in restricted texts. They were often brought home by the scruff of their neck, followed by a surge of complaints from the groundskeeper. Every day, they counted down the hours until they were shipped off to the other side of the country to study at Hogwarts.
Both Dr and Dr Argentum continued the family legacy by going into study, Alchemy and Astronomy respectively, and pioneered new magical research. Thus, Valour’s family history was also both privilege and pressure. They were raised in an enviable estate, surrounded by books and stained glass. An only child, left to bear the unspoken expectation to succeed and excel. Their relationship with their parents was more akin to a student and professors. They didn’t mind it so much; Kaavya and Ambrose instilled them with discipline, curiosity and a sharp sense of humour anyhow.
They grew up a lonely but content child, but soon went on to yearn for more outside of the walls of their home. Valour developed a mean streak, skipping their homeschooling, sneaking out at night and dabbling in restricted texts. They were often brought home by the scruff of their neck, followed by a surge of complaints from the groundskeeper. Every day, they counted down the hours until they were shipped off to the other side of the country to study at Hogwarts.
First Instance of Magic:
Reducio
The first time Valour’s magic first surfaced, they were six years old. Sat atop a stool in their father’s study as Dr Argentum stood by a chalkboard. He was going over basic physics in relation to the solar system. Six years old was certainly pushing it, but Argentum insisted they were advanced enough to handle some challenge. Valour always devoured new material from their father, but they did not inherit his passion for space. Instead, they let their mind momentarily wander as their gaze trailed out of a nearby window. They noticed a dove land on the boughs of a tree and soon they were wondering how birds managed to keep their plump little bodies airborne. After a moment or two, their thoughts were interrupted by their father gently clearing his throat. When they turned back to face him, they found a page of their notebook, ripped at the edges floating in front of them, folding itself into a rudimentary paper plane.
STATUS: Pending, Sage, December 20th
Valour, I have a few notes before I can approve this application.
-Please remove the color font from your trunk.
-The minimum word count for backstories is 220, your's does not meet this. Please tell me more about their life before Hogwarts.
STATUS: Approved, Sage, December 23rd
Index Registration
Character name (First and last name): Crystal Theodora
School Year or Adult Level: First Year
Does any Profile Card info need changing? No
Link to the character page: Boop!
Character Statistics: STAMINA • 4 | EVASION • 6 | STRENGTH • 6 | WISDOM • 9 | ARCANE POWER • 5 | ACCURACY • 5
Character Backstory:ReducioAs the only child of Adrian and Lydia, two incredibly loving and caring but frequently preoccupied parents, Crystal soon discovered that she had to live up to their high standards in order for them to love her. She could sense it in every conversation, even though they never told her directly. When she succeeded, they praised her; when she failed, they unleashed hell.
Not that they didn't give a damn. In their own way, they did. However, because of their hectic schedules, Crystal felt constantly alone. Books, flawless projects, and passing every test were her sources of comfort. The quiet pain inside her was covered up by the cheers from her friends and teachers. The pain of being alone
She did well in school. Sharp, gregarious, and always eager to collaborate with others. Crystal made a group of friends who respected her tenacity. However, they were unaware of the quiet girl who bore the burden of all imagined and actual failures. The person who was always afraid that she would fail and lose love one day.
It was a daily race to establish her value. to be more than the girl who stayed in her head most of the time. However, she was starting to question whether that was the only way she could define herself. Was she more than her accomplishments? More than her aspirations? Pushing herself to the limit was something Crystal had always done well. However, she was beginning to wonder what would happen if the edge was no longer sufficient.
Especially when her first instance of magic wasn't as perfect or soft like her parents'. When Crystal turned ten years old she was planning to enter a competition at school, she would study the same problems multiple times until she thought they were perfect. After making a tiny mistake in her preparations, she began to become very frustrated which only added to an already present fear that she would fail to achieve greatness.
She began to cry, and as she sat at the kitchen table, looking at the paper, she tried very hard not to cry. Minutes later, she was laying on her bed with her face pressed down against her pillow while letting out the scream she had been holding back for a long time. When the distress left her, something incredible happened; suddenly, as Crystal was pressing down on the pillow it exploded, throwing feathers all over herself and the surrounding area.
FIOM:ReducioWhen Crystal turned ten years old she was planning to enter a competition at school, she would study the same problems multiple times until she thought they were perfect. After making a tiny mistake in her preparations, she began to become very frustrated which only added to an already present fear that she would fail to achieve greatness.
She began to cry, and as she sat at the kitchen table, looking at the paper, she tried very hard not to cry. Minutes later, she was laying on her bed with her face pressed down against her pillow while letting out the scream she had been holding back for a long time. When the distress left her, something incredible happened; suddenly, as Crystal was pressing down on the pillow it exploded, throwing feathers all over herself and the surrounding area.
STATUS: Approved, Catalina, 21st of December
Index Registration
Character name (First and last name): Rowan Vexeley
School Year or Adult Level: First Year
Does any Profile Card info need changing? No
Link to the character page: Here
Character Statistics: Stamina: 4 |Evasion: 8 |Strength: 3 |Wisdom: 8 |ArcPower: 6 |Accuracy: 6
Character Backstory:
Reducio
Before Hogwarts, Rowan grew up in a remote church in Kilkennyn but it never felt like home to her. Her mother was a nun, sister Evangeline, and Rowan was nothing but the result of an affair between her and a french scholar, a wizard, who came in an academic trip to Kilkenny and left before Rowan was born, leaving only a book of french poetry, now Rowan's most precious posession. Rowan helped around the church, cleaning and fixing rosemaries, along with the choirboys with scrubbed necks and the girls in pristine pinafores who came for Sunday service, catechism classes, and seasonal festivals. They had homes, parents, and Christmas dinners to return to; the church was a weekly obligation, not a prison. Thus, Rowan learned not to get attached to them or to anyone, ever, because she was sure everyone leaves one day or the other. Her mother loved her deeply but her love was only shown through quick gestures, a quick hug in an empty hallway, a kiss on the cheek, a faraway smile or a slipped cookie in her pocket, in fear of further scandal, as she was encouraged to stay far away from the child and make herself small and be grateful that she was not chased out by the Mother Superior. Rowan learned very early to fend for herself and not rely on anyone else.
FIOM:
ReducioIt happened during a particularly stark Sunday sermon. Rowan was nine and hated these sermons. She was forced to sit still next to sister Agnes on a hard pew while an old priest talked about things she didn't understand, nor did she care to. She could see her mother seated far away from her, weeping. Rowan felt a wave of hot calustrophobic shame and anger, not for her, but for her mother. Suddenly, the flame of every candle lining up the altar snuffed out at one, one second they were burning the next they were dead. A collective gasp filled the churh. Rowan sat perfectly still, shocked and thrilled, knowing with a child's pure, terrifying instinct that the extinguishing had come from her.
STATUS: Pending, Catalina, 22nd of December
- Rowan's stats currently add up to 30, as a human with no special talents she should have 35 stats points, please edit so that she has 35 stat points
STATUS: Approved, Catalina, 24th of December
𝕽𝖔𝖜𝖆𝖓 𝖁𝖊𝖝𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖞
Stamina: 4 |Evasion: 8 |Strength: 3 |Wisdom: 8 |ArcPower: 6 |Accuracy: 6
Ability: cat's grace
Index Registration
Character name: Katherine Townsend
School Year or Adult Level: Adult I
Does any Profile Card info need changing? Nope!
Link to the character page: Abracadabra
Character Statistics:
stamina: 21 / evasion: 11 / strength: 2 / wisdom: 12 / arc power: 8 / accuracy: 11
(65 points cause I want to take an ability for her adult level instead of the +5! thank you lovelies mwah)
Character Special Race/Talent: N/A
Character Backstory:
First Instance of Magic:
School Year or Adult Level: Adult I
Does any Profile Card info need changing? Nope!
Link to the character page: Abracadabra
Character Statistics:
stamina: 21 / evasion: 11 / strength: 2 / wisdom: 12 / arc power: 8 / accuracy: 11
(65 points cause I want to take an ability for her adult level instead of the +5! thank you lovelies mwah)
Character Special Race/Talent: N/A
Character Backstory:
Reducio
BIOGRAPHY! —
Kitty was born Katherine Henrietta Townsend on a November night, living in Columbia, South Carolina, to a pair of wealthy muggles named Henry and Mary Anne. Henry Townsend worked in wealth management—long, demanding hours, and high pay, allowing Mary Anne to stay home. Both of Kitty's parents held expectations for her that were not so much high, as they were specific: she was entering and scoring high in “Baby Miss” pageants before she could properly talk, and was put into a leotard and tights the moment she could vaguely walk.
Kitty was home schooled, in part by her mother and in part by a long list of tutors. She was not particularly good in any of the subjects she was taught: did just well enough to pass the annual tests and then get right back into rehearsals. She was, then, very good at ballet, and even better at beauty contests. Her parents were more than happy to support her growth in that direction—the best schools, the most expensive kid-sized gowns and pretty shoes; the kind with a subtle shine and sometimes glitter. She knew how to walk in heels before she turned five.
She was a good kid: nice, agreeable, and, even as a young child, articulate. Making friends came easy to her—she never had a shortage of girls whose company she enjoyed in any of the classes or dressing rooms she frequented. She had a tendency to be a lot, sure, but she made up for it with an eagerness to please: there was no one ever left behind or on the outskirts of the group. Kitty made sure everyone was always waved at, said hi to, and welcomed into any conversation they wanted to be in. If someone needed a hair clip, she was the first to scramble for her bag, even if the last one left was her favorite one (the one she cherished most, pink, with a little glitter butterfly).
No one would have expected that her promising career, both in pageantry and ballet, would be cut short by the arrival of a stranger at the Townsend’s door, claiming to be a wizard—worse, claiming that their only daughter was a witch, too. The living room was heavy with emotion, a fog of confusion and some odd sort of disappointment. Her parents had a lot of questions.
The first question Kitty herself had was if she had done something wrong.
Kids have an uncanny way of being able to tell when their parents are upset. Kitty felt it in every glance, every look her parents shared now that they looked at her. When she won a young miss summer pageant, receiving her flowers on stage, Kitty spotted her mother in the crowd. The usual pride and warmth were gone from her gaze, replaced with just confusion. Betrayal, almost; heavy with the knowledge that this would likely be the last event like this that Katherine would attend. Family dinners back home were now a mix of failed conversation starters from Kitty and the sound of cutlery scraping plates. Every attempt at reconnection was cut short with such precision, it felt intentional. Every “that’s nice, honey,” only made Kitty feel like she had failed at some unforeseen test.
Her new supplies were bought quietly. Kitty was dropped off in New York with the most stilted parting words she could have imagined—a promise to write that she wasn't sure either her or her parents believed.
She was proven right. Kitty's first year at Ilvernorny was downright miserable. Though she enjoyed the classes, her parents’ demeanor had turned her into an anxious wreck, constantly vying for the return of their approval. Contact was sparse, not for lack of trying—Kitty simply found that her parents either did not reply at all or were, plain and simple, confused. They could no longer talk about pageantry, and though Kitty tried to keep up with ballet while in Ilvernorny, it simply wasn't the same. It wasn’t enough. Henry and Mary Anne had no clue what she meant by being picked by the Thunderbird and replied to her raving about the “too boy-ish” Quodpot with disinterest. Kitty didn't want to disappoint them; promising to participate in local pageants over breaks, agreeing to every event like she was sure a dutiful daughter would.
Summers and holiday breaks almost gave her hives. Though she was welcome back home, Kitty felt the difference in her parents’ attitude in her bones. Time stretched like sticky toffee, some odd resentment filling the air like the scent of burnt sugar, growing thicker and more nauseating with each school year that passed. Expectations mounted; it became clear that each day she had spent at Ilvermorny was something she would have to atone for.
Her parents didn't understand the whole magic thing, neither did they care to try. They made it clear that they believed their daughter had been ripped from their home, and with it, all the plans they had for her. The Ilvermorny education that Kitty was enjoying meant she fell behind her peers in ballet and that she no longer cared for pageants—and for the first few years of her Ilvermorny education, Kitty felt a pit of guilt every time she went home and once again failed at living up to who she was before finding out about magic.
Every day she spent away from home only deepened the disconnect between her and her parents, and there were no two months that could have helped her bridge the gap. Still, she tried.
By the end of Kitty's second year, her parents were only sending two letters a month; she sent two every week. They were informed of every quidditch win, every friend made, every silly situation in class. Her parents, however, seemed to tire of asking questions about what on Earth a tallantalegra was. By the end of her third, she stopped trying to send more than one weekly. Her parents seemed to take this as their sign that it was alright to decrease the frequency of their letters too, going down to only monthly.
She got into a huge fight with her parents the summer before her fifth year, refusing to participate in any event they had lined up on principle. The weeks turned into a nightmarish repeat of the one before Ilvermorny—quiet and painfully long. The only time the silence was broken was for bursts of shouting matches, always ending as quickly and explosively as they began. Kitty couldn't have been happier for summer to be over, feeling some odd sense of relief at not being stuck in that house anymore.
By the end of her fifth year at Ilvermorny, the only letters Kitty received were for special occasions. She went back home one last time that Christmas—some last ditch effort at reconnection. The only question they asked the moment she showed up was if she would be willing to try for a local winter pageant. She spent most of the holidays in her room, blasting music as some weak protest. Coming back to Ilvermorny, she threw herself into her studies, deciding that she would not let silence or disapproval from her parents deter her from the life she wanted—the life she genuinely adored, as a Thunderbird, as a witch.
In her sixth year, Kitty's parents missed the one letter they usually sent for her birthday, and then the special occasion ones dried up too. She did not expect to see her parents at the graduation ceremony, and was not surprised by their absence.
It did not matter. Kitty had spent the last years of her education throwing herself into her studies, receiving high enough marks to get a scholarship at the prestigious Università Bianchi di Firenze in Tuscany. Her programme was exclusive: specialised to the explorers, to the daring and the bold, and more importantly, to her chosen occupation—curse-breaking. She had had her sights set on the job since early in her Ilvermorny career, confidence only bolstered by the issues from her fifth year. She had been working hard for the past three years, and was finally going somewhere she could truly say she adored. Her new school gave her a new place to be from; a home away from the house she no longer felt the warmth of.
Kitty fell in love with Europe in the blink of an eye. Living in student housing in Florence turned out to be perfect for her—new, though after the months spent on campus, familiar. Being in Europe let her travel a lot more than the US did, too. She put in the work during school days, and then spent her weekends and breaks traveling between borders with some friends, half her closet stuffed into a single old bag. She liked the high-class museums in Paris as well as the raves in Berlin—she drank expensive red wine in Rome and cheap beer in Prague, went to Viennese ballets and Madrid parties alike.
After graduation, Kitty had a curse-breaking apprenticeship lined up, accompanying a far more renowned professional. After a year and a half there, watching and learning during progressively more intense cases, she got her certification, and was able to go out on her own. She moved to London, working, as most curse-breakers did, for Gringott's Wizarding Bank—though she didn't spend much time in her cozy flat, her work taking her even further out around the world than she had ventured during university.
Kitty truly adored her job. She would have happily stayed in her position there if not for where one of her cases took her.
It was supposed to be routine; an old inheritance feud, a vault left behind by a wealthy patron's ancestor somewhere in the Faroe Islands—and said wealthy patron wanted access. The brief mentioned no outstanding threats, only some tough spells to be broken. Her supervisor assigned Kitty and her usual partner to the case, both of them sure it'd be a short and simple job.
No one had mentioned a hag. Perhaps no one knew.
A hag had made the decrepit vault into her home. Kitty hadn't been a novice in years—she could recognise the changes in environment, the unsettled terrain, the bone-deep chill in the air the closer she got. Still, perhaps foolishly, she pushed through, ignoring every red flag and deluding herself into thinking that she was being paranoid. After all, no brief had mentioned hags—no brief had mentioned any beings beyond whatever spiders might have taken up residence in the old stone halls.
Kitty was good enough to get out alive. She was not good enough to get out unscathed.
After struggling to fight the hag off, Kitty managed to get away—barely, her partner not having the same luck. She got out a call for rescue and was found some ways away from the door, having tried to drag her partner out with her. Her wand was broken and she was barely conscious. She required emergency medical attention, and even after, laid there unconscious in St. Mungo's for a solid week. She needed intense physical therapy, not to mention the mental strain she'd suffered during the incident. Even after she could walk and do most things on her own, a return to her old job would have been diabolically difficult. She spent a few months living off her savings, trying to get herself back on her feet again. She got a new wand; redecorated the flat. Still, she stood at the end of a road with no clear way forward.
The saving grace for Kitty turned out to be an ad in the Daily Headliner. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, seeking someone experienced for the position of Professor of Charms. Charms experience she had plenty—and with Kitty's own positive memories of her wizarding education, the decision to apply was all but made for her. She never liked staying too long in one place, anyway.
Kitty was home schooled, in part by her mother and in part by a long list of tutors. She was not particularly good in any of the subjects she was taught: did just well enough to pass the annual tests and then get right back into rehearsals. She was, then, very good at ballet, and even better at beauty contests. Her parents were more than happy to support her growth in that direction—the best schools, the most expensive kid-sized gowns and pretty shoes; the kind with a subtle shine and sometimes glitter. She knew how to walk in heels before she turned five.
She was a good kid: nice, agreeable, and, even as a young child, articulate. Making friends came easy to her—she never had a shortage of girls whose company she enjoyed in any of the classes or dressing rooms she frequented. She had a tendency to be a lot, sure, but she made up for it with an eagerness to please: there was no one ever left behind or on the outskirts of the group. Kitty made sure everyone was always waved at, said hi to, and welcomed into any conversation they wanted to be in. If someone needed a hair clip, she was the first to scramble for her bag, even if the last one left was her favorite one (the one she cherished most, pink, with a little glitter butterfly).
No one would have expected that her promising career, both in pageantry and ballet, would be cut short by the arrival of a stranger at the Townsend’s door, claiming to be a wizard—worse, claiming that their only daughter was a witch, too. The living room was heavy with emotion, a fog of confusion and some odd sort of disappointment. Her parents had a lot of questions.
The first question Kitty herself had was if she had done something wrong.
Kids have an uncanny way of being able to tell when their parents are upset. Kitty felt it in every glance, every look her parents shared now that they looked at her. When she won a young miss summer pageant, receiving her flowers on stage, Kitty spotted her mother in the crowd. The usual pride and warmth were gone from her gaze, replaced with just confusion. Betrayal, almost; heavy with the knowledge that this would likely be the last event like this that Katherine would attend. Family dinners back home were now a mix of failed conversation starters from Kitty and the sound of cutlery scraping plates. Every attempt at reconnection was cut short with such precision, it felt intentional. Every “that’s nice, honey,” only made Kitty feel like she had failed at some unforeseen test.
Her new supplies were bought quietly. Kitty was dropped off in New York with the most stilted parting words she could have imagined—a promise to write that she wasn't sure either her or her parents believed.
She was proven right. Kitty's first year at Ilvernorny was downright miserable. Though she enjoyed the classes, her parents’ demeanor had turned her into an anxious wreck, constantly vying for the return of their approval. Contact was sparse, not for lack of trying—Kitty simply found that her parents either did not reply at all or were, plain and simple, confused. They could no longer talk about pageantry, and though Kitty tried to keep up with ballet while in Ilvernorny, it simply wasn't the same. It wasn’t enough. Henry and Mary Anne had no clue what she meant by being picked by the Thunderbird and replied to her raving about the “too boy-ish” Quodpot with disinterest. Kitty didn't want to disappoint them; promising to participate in local pageants over breaks, agreeing to every event like she was sure a dutiful daughter would.
Summers and holiday breaks almost gave her hives. Though she was welcome back home, Kitty felt the difference in her parents’ attitude in her bones. Time stretched like sticky toffee, some odd resentment filling the air like the scent of burnt sugar, growing thicker and more nauseating with each school year that passed. Expectations mounted; it became clear that each day she had spent at Ilvermorny was something she would have to atone for.
Her parents didn't understand the whole magic thing, neither did they care to try. They made it clear that they believed their daughter had been ripped from their home, and with it, all the plans they had for her. The Ilvermorny education that Kitty was enjoying meant she fell behind her peers in ballet and that she no longer cared for pageants—and for the first few years of her Ilvermorny education, Kitty felt a pit of guilt every time she went home and once again failed at living up to who she was before finding out about magic.
Every day she spent away from home only deepened the disconnect between her and her parents, and there were no two months that could have helped her bridge the gap. Still, she tried.
By the end of Kitty's second year, her parents were only sending two letters a month; she sent two every week. They were informed of every quidditch win, every friend made, every silly situation in class. Her parents, however, seemed to tire of asking questions about what on Earth a tallantalegra was. By the end of her third, she stopped trying to send more than one weekly. Her parents seemed to take this as their sign that it was alright to decrease the frequency of their letters too, going down to only monthly.
She got into a huge fight with her parents the summer before her fifth year, refusing to participate in any event they had lined up on principle. The weeks turned into a nightmarish repeat of the one before Ilvermorny—quiet and painfully long. The only time the silence was broken was for bursts of shouting matches, always ending as quickly and explosively as they began. Kitty couldn't have been happier for summer to be over, feeling some odd sense of relief at not being stuck in that house anymore.
By the end of her fifth year at Ilvermorny, the only letters Kitty received were for special occasions. She went back home one last time that Christmas—some last ditch effort at reconnection. The only question they asked the moment she showed up was if she would be willing to try for a local winter pageant. She spent most of the holidays in her room, blasting music as some weak protest. Coming back to Ilvermorny, she threw herself into her studies, deciding that she would not let silence or disapproval from her parents deter her from the life she wanted—the life she genuinely adored, as a Thunderbird, as a witch.
In her sixth year, Kitty's parents missed the one letter they usually sent for her birthday, and then the special occasion ones dried up too. She did not expect to see her parents at the graduation ceremony, and was not surprised by their absence.
It did not matter. Kitty had spent the last years of her education throwing herself into her studies, receiving high enough marks to get a scholarship at the prestigious Università Bianchi di Firenze in Tuscany. Her programme was exclusive: specialised to the explorers, to the daring and the bold, and more importantly, to her chosen occupation—curse-breaking. She had had her sights set on the job since early in her Ilvermorny career, confidence only bolstered by the issues from her fifth year. She had been working hard for the past three years, and was finally going somewhere she could truly say she adored. Her new school gave her a new place to be from; a home away from the house she no longer felt the warmth of.
Kitty fell in love with Europe in the blink of an eye. Living in student housing in Florence turned out to be perfect for her—new, though after the months spent on campus, familiar. Being in Europe let her travel a lot more than the US did, too. She put in the work during school days, and then spent her weekends and breaks traveling between borders with some friends, half her closet stuffed into a single old bag. She liked the high-class museums in Paris as well as the raves in Berlin—she drank expensive red wine in Rome and cheap beer in Prague, went to Viennese ballets and Madrid parties alike.
After graduation, Kitty had a curse-breaking apprenticeship lined up, accompanying a far more renowned professional. After a year and a half there, watching and learning during progressively more intense cases, she got her certification, and was able to go out on her own. She moved to London, working, as most curse-breakers did, for Gringott's Wizarding Bank—though she didn't spend much time in her cozy flat, her work taking her even further out around the world than she had ventured during university.
Kitty truly adored her job. She would have happily stayed in her position there if not for where one of her cases took her.
It was supposed to be routine; an old inheritance feud, a vault left behind by a wealthy patron's ancestor somewhere in the Faroe Islands—and said wealthy patron wanted access. The brief mentioned no outstanding threats, only some tough spells to be broken. Her supervisor assigned Kitty and her usual partner to the case, both of them sure it'd be a short and simple job.
No one had mentioned a hag. Perhaps no one knew.
A hag had made the decrepit vault into her home. Kitty hadn't been a novice in years—she could recognise the changes in environment, the unsettled terrain, the bone-deep chill in the air the closer she got. Still, perhaps foolishly, she pushed through, ignoring every red flag and deluding herself into thinking that she was being paranoid. After all, no brief had mentioned hags—no brief had mentioned any beings beyond whatever spiders might have taken up residence in the old stone halls.
Kitty was good enough to get out alive. She was not good enough to get out unscathed.
After struggling to fight the hag off, Kitty managed to get away—barely, her partner not having the same luck. She got out a call for rescue and was found some ways away from the door, having tried to drag her partner out with her. Her wand was broken and she was barely conscious. She required emergency medical attention, and even after, laid there unconscious in St. Mungo's for a solid week. She needed intense physical therapy, not to mention the mental strain she'd suffered during the incident. Even after she could walk and do most things on her own, a return to her old job would have been diabolically difficult. She spent a few months living off her savings, trying to get herself back on her feet again. She got a new wand; redecorated the flat. Still, she stood at the end of a road with no clear way forward.
The saving grace for Kitty turned out to be an ad in the Daily Headliner. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, seeking someone experienced for the position of Professor of Charms. Charms experience she had plenty—and with Kitty's own positive memories of her wizarding education, the decision to apply was all but made for her. She never liked staying too long in one place, anyway.
First Instance of Magic:
Reducio
FIRST INSTANCE OF MAGIC! —
It happened when Kitty was nine years old, backstage during a small-time, local pageant—Little Miss Columbia SC Buttercup. One of the last local pageants in the seven to nine age group that Kitty would be able to participate in. These smaller wins were crucial for Kitty to move up to what her mother called “big girl pageants”—the Young Miss, and later, if all went well, Junior Miss America pageants. Emotions were running high for everyone in the family. It didn't help that Kitty hated the dress that had been picked for her; though she liked the color, a pretty pale yellow, the fabric was scratchy, and it grated on her nerves as she was getting styled before actually going on stage.
Kitty had been fidgeting in the chair all day. She was stressed, and overwhelmed, and had about three separate middle aged women fussing over her hair. The scent of hairspray was nauseating, the dressing room noisy with the chatter of fifteen other contestants and thrice as many parents and stylists; it was all too much. Kitty’s final straw came when one of the women began to tug on her hair a bit too hard. She tried to manage it, but she was failing. At first she just whined, trying to get out some sort of sensible protest, but that wasn’t enough. She pushed the offending hairdresser away, abruptly tearing herself out of the hands of both the two other women.
“Katherine Henrietta—!”
Kitty did not hear the end of her mother’s sentence, only knowing that it was the beginning of the scolding by the tone and the use of her full name. She ran out of the room—heels aching on her feet, dress still digging into her skin, and tears coming to her eyes. Her hair was a mess, now, too, thanks to the abrupt escape, and it didn’t take long before she found herself sniffling. Rounding a corner, the mascara running down her small face certainly did not help with noticing an ill-positioned cable, and Kitty faceplanted onto the unpleasant carpet.
She heard her mother catch up with her, Mary Anne’s voice now holding concern in addition to the chiding from earlier. Kitty was pulled to her feet with another small whine, wanting to pout and stomp her feet — decidedly not Young Miss behavior. Her make-up and hair, however, were now miraculously in pristine condition, as if she had never left the dressing room chair at all. Outside of the tears at the rim of Kitty’s eyelid and the slight ache in both her knees and elbows, there was no sign of the outburst at all. Her mother didn’t notice, now far more preoccupied with soothing her crying daughter than the state of her make-up.
Besides, it was almost time to get on stage.
Kitty had been fidgeting in the chair all day. She was stressed, and overwhelmed, and had about three separate middle aged women fussing over her hair. The scent of hairspray was nauseating, the dressing room noisy with the chatter of fifteen other contestants and thrice as many parents and stylists; it was all too much. Kitty’s final straw came when one of the women began to tug on her hair a bit too hard. She tried to manage it, but she was failing. At first she just whined, trying to get out some sort of sensible protest, but that wasn’t enough. She pushed the offending hairdresser away, abruptly tearing herself out of the hands of both the two other women.
“Katherine Henrietta—!”
Kitty did not hear the end of her mother’s sentence, only knowing that it was the beginning of the scolding by the tone and the use of her full name. She ran out of the room—heels aching on her feet, dress still digging into her skin, and tears coming to her eyes. Her hair was a mess, now, too, thanks to the abrupt escape, and it didn’t take long before she found herself sniffling. Rounding a corner, the mascara running down her small face certainly did not help with noticing an ill-positioned cable, and Kitty faceplanted onto the unpleasant carpet.
She heard her mother catch up with her, Mary Anne’s voice now holding concern in addition to the chiding from earlier. Kitty was pulled to her feet with another small whine, wanting to pout and stomp her feet — decidedly not Young Miss behavior. Her make-up and hair, however, were now miraculously in pristine condition, as if she had never left the dressing room chair at all. Outside of the tears at the rim of Kitty’s eyelid and the slight ache in both her knees and elbows, there was no sign of the outburst at all. Her mother didn’t notice, now far more preoccupied with soothing her crying daughter than the state of her make-up.
Besides, it was almost time to get on stage.
STATUS: Approved - Jessamine, 22nd December 2025