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Silent_Wolf (Offline)
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Default 10-31-2010, 08:03 AM

Name: Leela Smidth
Age: 16
School: Hogwarts, Hufflepuff
Class: Claims pureblood, only halfblood really.
Personality: Leela is wild, random, and friendly; while she's certainly a dunderhead at times, she does well in most classes (except for Charms and her Runes class) and excels at Care of Magical creatures. Her biggest problem is that she isn't aggressive at all when it comes to defending herself or others; she flinches away from conflict badly and it's quite embarrassing as she's a Prefect as well. She's also lied about her father; while she isn't ashamed of him being a Squib, she doesn't want him to lose his job at the menagerie he works at. She also can't stand most Gryffindor students, mostly by the fact that several don't hesitate to point out that she's in the lowliest house.
Bio: Leela's the daughter of an American Squib and a witch from Europe; where in Europe, she'd never say, as it certainly wasn't Britain - she seems to forget where because as a young girl, her family moved around the continent frequently. Either way, it's never bothered Leela and she wholly welcomes her ethnic ambiguity - as long as nobody confuses her for a spastic American. She was born in America but mostly raised in Britain; her mother wanted her to be raised near her pureblood family but her father also wanted her to know his side of the family as well. It was a complicated childhood. When she was accepted to Hogwarts, they settled in a quiet country house far away from Muggles - though she was more than welcome to go and play with muggle children if she wished, as while her mother was certainly pureblood (and probably a little loony as most are), she didn't want her daughter growing up in the same unstable environment as she had had. She's also a born metamorphagus and fully embraces it, though she usually just keeps it to wacky hair colors and changing the length of it at will. It also gives her headaches if she does it too often or too quickly.

Name: Adric de la Roix
Age: 15
School: Beauxbatons
Class: Halfblood
Personality: Adric isn't friendly in any shape or form and will go out of his way to avoid everybody - and I mean everybody. However, he does have a soft spot for anybody who's as huge a fan of Quidditch as he is. Being a halfblood, he has a muggle mother and a halfblood father.
Bio: Adric had a typical wizarding childhood; having a muggle mother, he learned much about the non-wizard world and he's always been fascinated by non-magic technology that his mother used. He grew up watching Quidditch matches with his father and longs to play one day, himself, but his left arm has been broken and mended improperly by muggle physicians so many times (through a childhood of climbing trees) that it doesn't function properly.


Sitting as far away from Draven as possible, Leela too was in the prefect carriage, reading her Potions book for reinforcement reasons. "..." She looked out the window and, because the other prefects were out, turned to Draven and asked, "Should we go and tell the students to change into their uniforms now? We're halfway there and I don't think the Gryffindork prefects are coming back." She stowed her book in her suitcase at her side and put it in the rack across from her seat. "Really don't know why Dippet picked them, they're so lazy. Didn't the one fail Charms last year?"

She cracked her fingers and twitched her nose; her hair, a short green bob, fell into a normal brown shoulder-length hair. She didn't want to scare the new students yet.


Adric followed the crowd into the carriage, inwardly amazed by the fact that everybody could cram inside and yet they'd still be able to have class. It was incredibly unreal. However, he didn't voice this to anybody; why should he?

Once inside the carriage, he nabbed one of the beds farthest from the door on the boys' half, planning on just sleeping through most of the ride - if he wasn't dragged to any classes, first. This is going to be great. He made a face and just flopped onto the bed.

I stare at the girl in the mirror: T-shirt, torn up jeans, no beauty queen.
But the way that you see me, you get underneath me, and all my defenses just fall away, fall away.
I am beautiful with you, even in the darkest part of me. I am beautiful with you;
Make it feel the way it's supposed to be!

You're here with me: Just show me this and I'll believe I am beautiful with you!

Last edited by Silent_Wolf : 10-31-2010 at 08:35 AM.
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