to the hatred of almost everyone, she also picked up annoying vernacular.

it’s muggle words god forbid ; jokes, swears; you name it she knows it. 

well sometimes, she doesn’t know it, not how it’s supposed to be used at the very least but she tries her hardest in some sense to use the outdated slang her friends taught her.

cassie vc: * casts depulso and says yeet * , also cassie vc: * replies to someone casting accio with yeet as well*

crackles her knuckles before doing anything ; it readies her mind – gets her in the groove to do anything, 

her number one most annoying habit according to anyone is her inability to keep still. not in terms of moving, but she’s always fidgeting. with something. her main go to’s are

finger drumming / cracking out a beat on her dusk, on her legs, by just slamming them along to whatever is in her head. it’s what she does when she’s thinking, or trying to remember.

her fingers are often the solution to any situation,    and the only way to deal with brewing anxieties is to start rubbing fingers like to start a fire. rubbing her thumb against her forefingers, rubbing the hem of her skirt. she’s basically ruined the sleeves of her robes and shirts and cardigans so many times throughout all her years. all of which she’s sewn back together with colourful yarns.

Born a Lover and a fighter  /   dumb ass funfacts here while i get my shit organised !

Sword lesbian

vegan

Plant mother and art hoe, loves thrifting

Generally dumb as shit, only smart when it comes to talking in 7 levels of sarcasm and irony.

Says ‘do it for the vine’ and other completely outdated slang constantly.

If you remind her vine is dead she will - unstan.

Very tech savvy, extremely upset that tech devices have been banned in Hogwarts like ?

No fashion sense whatsoever like honestly -- get her some help, stop her wearing hawaiian shirts.

Asks people their fave cryptid on a first date / is really into conspiracy theories.

Excells at repressing emotions and bottling them up into her mediocre artwork and occasional poetry and also kickboxing - healthy coping mechanism? Who needs them.

Kind of a jock but an emo jock who’s also a hipster 

Tells all her secrets to her plants and exposes nothing to anybody else whatsoever

Constantly ?? day dreaming but will pretend they were doing something cool.

Kind of aloof and will not let you know anything concrete about them. ever

Deathly loyal and ridiculously strong moral compass, lawful good to a tee.

She is cactus . . . . prickly … hard 2 open up, but full of life saving liquid in an arid environment.  She’s made herself strong and protected 2 hide any emotion

Will do anything for those she considers her friends but only really considers like 4 people her friend and 1 of them is no longer with us

Used to only care for peaceful protests uwu but now she’s here ready 2 throw hands 24/7

Dog lesbian not a cat lesbian. 

Really into history and linguistics, loves philosophy,

Speaks a speckling of other languages but nowhere near fluent but can say i love girls in 12 languages.

Only can be called Cassie or Cassandra, the only person that called her Sandy was Gwen so now it’s a no-go. Easiest way to piss her off is call her sandy.

hufflepuff seeker ; very fast and good at flying, but known for drifting off and day dreaming instead of spotting the snitch. excels in chasing down the other seeker.

Actual bio!

Being the younger middle child always comes with it’s perks, namely, your parents already know what to expect when they’re expecting.

Brought into the world full of smiles, and she’s never stopped smiling since. 

A quiet, yet content child is how people would always place Cassandra Bones-Jordan. And for that reason, she was always somewhat in the shadow. That’s what everyone always says about middle children, they’re not the eldest, they’re not leading the pack. And they’re not the doted on baby.

They don’t have it harsh, they don’t really face the struggles and tribulations, they’re just part of the learning curve. 

The infamous middle children, the children that time forgot that always end up with some sort of emotional baggage to them.

And so, Cassandra had a happy, uneventful childhood. Her parents loved her, her siblings loved her, and she loved them back equally and wholly with all the love she had to give. Which was a lot. 

It was good for her, to be the quiet wallflower of a girl, she may not be a star actress but she shined in the role she was given to play. So introverted, she much preferred to sit in the back of the car with headphones in and a sketchbook in hand than ever join in the conversation, stand to the side of a photograph with a soft and pleasant smile on her face.

Such a lovely girl, everyone would comment, and leave it at that, sidelined for her extremely impressive bunch of siblings.

Cassandra fitted right into that role and so she never complained,    just kept her head down and nose in her sketchbook and she’d be content and happy as she could be. She didn’t like the attention, she would actively try and avoid family at any and all parties. 

Thus, it wasn’t a surprise that she was eventually sorted into hufflepuff, and she would always fondly remember that moment, writing back home to her mother. She was so proud to be a hufflepuff like her mother. 

Except her sorting wasn’t really all that simple. She had an extremely long hat stall, the kind of hat stall where everyone tries to take bets on where they’re going to end up kind of hat stall. 

Initially, the hat had thought gryffindor. For their was a bravery, a lion, hidden in the lanky but well built frame. Covered in marble that just needed to be sculpted, it was there, but it wouldn’t just bloom like a flower, it would need to be chipped at, destroyed, and the question for the hat was:      would cassandra have trial by fire? Would she be burnt at the stake?  Would Troy burn around her as she screamed into the night ? 

Lucky girls are hardly ever called brave girls. 

So the hat chose hufflepuff, perhaps a hope for the coming generations to be spared from war like its predecessor. 

The wise words she and the hat exchanged didn’t really do much to bolster cassandra’s confidence, and so, she remained as a wallflower for the first half of the first term, learning the ropes of Hogwarts. 

Luckily, she had her two elder siblings there to guide her a little bit, ruffle her hair as she walked past. But she still felt vehemently within their shadows, that her name Cassandra, meant little in comparison to the Bones-Jordan that felt like an anvill on her neck.

Being such a wallflower and a hufflepuff led her to being teased just a bit in her first year - a group of no good slytherins coming over and shoving her sketchbook into a puddle in the courtyard just because.  ( she would later found out ; it was because one of her siblings had annoyed them earlier. ) 

A muggleborn hufflepuff of the same year, gwen mcstevens - scottish, ginger and awfully freckled, came to her defense and told em to fuck off basically in the most explicit way they could manage.

A spitfire, the sun, apollo, all synonyms for gwen mcstevens.

They became close friends- like he kind of attached at the hips, never seen without each other best friends’, it seemed like y/n had finally grown out of her shell a bit. Gwen even encouraged Sandy to dye her hair ginger in their 4th year.

Cassandra was quiet (around people she didn’t like), and gwen was loud. 

They were each others balancing side, whilst gwen campaigned for everything and constantly had a bone to pick with someone, Cassandra would tag along. Because she felt the same way too , she just relied on the presence of Gwen to fully express those feelings.

An emotional crutch, they were completely co-dependant on each other, and at some point in their 6th year, it became like a thing between them. Unspoken, but there was a thing that she only ever told her parents about over christmas that same year in a flood of tears.

And much like her childhood, all they did was shower Cassandra in happiness, and told her to invite Gwen around next year for the holidays

Unfortunately - that christmas never came.

A few days after the news of Harry’s and MCgonnogal’s death came out, the first few muggleborns at Hogwarts began to go missing. Gwen amongst them. It was the 13th of November, a dreery November, when things were confirmed for the worst.

Dead. She could cope with the grief of Shacklebolt, Mcgonnogal, of Harry, but without Gwen -- there was an entire half of Cassandra now missing. 

It was the rug out from under cassandra’s feet, her one support mechanism, the one person who knew everything about her was gone. But not just gone, she’d been murdered. Well, she didn’t know murder, but she could feel the room,   could feel the machinations taking place.

cassandra was . . . .  crushed. Defeated. Numb. she couldn’t feel shit - she was catatonic for a day in her dorm room, everyone edging around her so as to not aggravate the situation. And then she was gone, just like that.

She couldn’t deal with Hogwarts, at looking at Gwen’s bed next to hers, all her stuff left untouched as it had been last week ; her pet tortoise the only movement in that corner of the dorm.

It’s not like hufflepuffs to be rash;  and here it was, the chipping of the marble. 

She shoved a few belongings into her satchel and made a break for it on the 15th in the night -- stowing into the darkness.

However, the destinies, the fates, claimed this story to not be a tragedy - but an epic. Her hairbrain scheme to break free failed pretty badly;   she’s found the next day by [w.c] in the early hours of the 15th on the border of the school grounds - just past the owlery a few hundred metres from the edge of the forbidden forest. 

Disordered eating tw start In reality, it wasn’t fate, it was just the fact that she hadn’t eaten anything in a few days

Disordered eating tw end. 

Cassandra begged for wc as they were fireman lifting them to the hospital wing to not say what actually happened, she didn’t want to deal with the drama without her crutch, nor did she want to worry her parents.

However, sitting in the hospital wing only lasted for a few hours, her desire to not worry her family trumped by the unending beating in her heart, the shaking of her limbs. this , although unknown to cassandra, was just grief. 

But she had never experienced it before, or knew how to deal with it in a proper manner, so she tried to run again.

However, not having fully rested herself, her brain was fogged and her mental map of the school forgotten, and the room of requirement living up to its name, had sense a requirement in the lost bones-jordan child.

Moving through what she thought was just a normal door, Cassandra came face to face with a mirror. What should have been a paled face with sunken eyes and chapped lips, was instead replaced with stout figure with darting green eyes and firey hair.

Surprise ! it’s the mirror of erised ! what a lovely deus ex machina for us all !

And of course, it’s a grieving heart who sees what they long for the most ; gwen. 

On the verge of tears, of running out the door and as far as she could -- ; perhaps it was too soon to see her again, her sun.

And maybe it was the lack of focus she had, or the iron deficiency, but she swears she heard the reflection talk to her. A manifesto to be brave ;      cassandra had always followed gwen rigorously, but she did everything that gwen did. Sure, she needed the encouragement but she could always do it. She just didn’t believe in herself.

It’s the darkest hours of the heroes story ; and it's divine intervention, apollo, or thetis, swooping down from olympia with the words on wings.

It was that inspiration, that internalisation of Gwen that managed to get the courage to use her legs. Put one leg in front of the other and walk back to the hospital room, and sit back down. With no one to notice her second attempt. 

The block of marble had been cut, the statue now revealed, the brave girl, the lioness, now in full force. People don’t call you brave if you’re lucky.

To keep part of Gwen with her  everywhere, she decided to keep herself in everything Gwen had encouraged her to do, rather than become a hermit and avoid everything they ever did.

On a spur of a whim, she had those now, she decided to try out in the snap quidditch tryouts to replace the seeker. She got her best friends former position by some act of god,     Cassandra says she plays with an angel looking over her. 

She also signs up for the M.A the second she has a chance, constantly cementing herself in any role or position they needed to be filled.

Through dealing with her strife, she flourished rather than suffered, desperately trying to fill her time with extracurriculars, helping out the m.a, practising for quidditch matches.

At the same time, whilst keeping her emotions very bottled up, she’s started to act up and act out, her inability to deal with people she doesn’t like reaching sky high peaks. People would perhaps call her somewhat intolerant to blood purity ideas; and suddenly, she’s started to speak up when she hears something she finds dumb, started getting into fights and coming back to her dorm with a black eye or a bruised wrist.

It’s a level of self-preservation that’s gone too, along with any other healthy coping mechanisms. She doesn’t know how to deal with the deep seated grief that’s rooted itself to her bone marrow; but whatever she’s doing right now certainly isn’t helping one bit.  

my wc page is still heavily under wip so i’ll post it in the gc when im done but the few basic ideas we got going on here are;

- the person who found her passed out in the forest ; sworn to absolute secrecy, peak drama and dramatic tension.

- other former friends of gwen who cassandra would have been friends with via proxy.

- people cassandra have absolutely gotten into a fist fight with as of late for whatever anti-muggleborn sentiment they’ve said in her presence

- love a group of people who are ... slowly going to adopt cassie into their friendship group bc she’s a loner and needs love.

- .. girlfriend (future)! crushes! you name it! she was kind of dating gwen so she ... soft angst hours ultimate edition !