“the Knight of Swords shows a young man in his armour riding a powerful whitett horse into the midst of a battle in the distance. the white colour of the horse symbolises the purity of the intellectual energy that motivates the rider. the sky behind him is filled with storm clouds and the trees are tossed wildly by the wind. the horse’s harness is decorated with images of butterflies and birds and the knight’s cape is also decorated with birds. he charges forward with great momentum and apparently without any regard to the dangers he may encounter.”
upright: opinionated, hasty, action-oriented, communicative
reversed: scattered thought, disregard for consequences
name: alice prewett
gender & pronouns: cisfemale, she/her
occupation: ministry affiliated: auror
birthday: april 3rd, 1956
blood status: pureblood
affiliation: order of the phoenixÂ
secret: is self destructiveÂ
fabien prewett, gideon prewett, molly weasley: cousins
frank longbottom:Â auror partner
hestia jones: drinking buddies
albus dumbledore: inspired by
A once elegant, now filled with plants and rather worn bedroom in Jamshedpur, India. MEERA BHATIA waters a monkswood plant. She rubs her heavily pregnant stomach, glancing out towards the window. Meera lets out a sharp cry, wincing at a sudden pain.
It was never meant to happen on that day.
The summer sun began to rise in the sky, the heat beginning to climb upwards. The dozens of brightly coloured plants and ferns stretched towards the rays of sunshine. Finally the bustle of traffic and people intertwined with the screeches of a newborn babe.
The youngest son of the established Bhatia family and his new bride, were supposed to welcome their first child into the world, together. Not when Meera, the new bride, was in the middle of her studies on highly poisonous plants. Or when Samar, the youngest son, was exploring native ferns and herbs in Albania. It was meant to happen a few weeks later. But regardless of plans and organisation, the newborn babe waited for no one.
Fate is a cruel and devious creature, always keen to create mischief. It played a foul trick on Meera Bhatia that day. An exchange was made, one life for another. She gave birth to a healthy baby girl. But to balance the scales, Fate snatched away her husband’s life. Samar Bhatia perished in an unfortunate troll attack on his exploration in Albania. It left a woman without the man she had fallen in love with and left a newborn without a father.
As the only child of Meera and Samar Bhatia, Alice grew up surrounded by whispers of grief and pain. Her mother tried to conceal her grief from her daughter, but the young girl was extremely bright and intuitive. It wasn’t to say that the household wasn’t warm and loving, only that underneath the happiness, there was pain. The tragedy spurred her mother to start afresh. She couldn’t remain in Jamshedpur, surrounded by the memories of her husband. She needed to be strong for her daughter. Meera Bhatia accepted a healer position at St Mungo’s and turned her and Alice’s world upside down.
It was there that Meera met Hugh Prewett, a charming auror who had been poisoned with a rare type of Deadly Nightshade. She was the only healer who figured out the exact quantities of the antidote and saved his life. It was a whirlwind romance, filled with laughter and kindness. They were married in a few months. Their new home came with a new surname, with Meera and Alice becoming Prewett’s.
A dust filled attic crowded with ancient relics and boxes of treasures. ALICE PREWETT (7) and her new father, HUGH PREWETT (42) sprawled out across the floorboards, drawing moustaches on dusty old family photographs. Alice giggles at one of the more ridiculous photographs. Hugh ruffles Alice’s hair, an easy smile on his lips. She almost knocks him over in a rather ferocious hug.
Despite her timidity and docility as a toddler, Alice grew up to be a firecracker that tore through the house.
Forever clinging onto Hugh’s legs, clambering onto his shoulders and racing him to scramble up the trees on their property. She became very close with her father, wanting to hear everything about his family, school and job. They practised Quidditch together and discussed techniques and even re-enacted them on the dinner table, much to her mother’s horror.
Her newfound cousins, Molly, Fabian and Gideon, only encouraged her bold attitude. They became known for their endless and reckless games of hide and seek, usually all ganging up on members of their large extended family and spooking them.
A cosy common room with plump armchairs and a roaring fire in the Slytherin Dungeon, Hogwarts. ALICE PREWETT (11) stretches her legs out while lying on the rug. ANDROMEDA BLACK (13) sits near her, scribbling away at her essay. The two chat animatedly, their pens nearly moving as quickly as their mouths.
Her worst enemies, her best friends; her sisterhood was founded at Hogwarts.
Sorted into Slytherin after the Sorting Hat was placed on her head, Alice created life long friendships with bright students in many different houses. She was an effervescent girl, keen to offer a smile and quick to laugh. It wasn’t difficult for her to make friends.
A cosy little bedroom in London. ALICE PREWETT (14) curls herself up on her bed with her head buried into the pillow. She sobs uncontrollably, her body trembling with each sound.
On the eve of her fifteenth birthday, her father was slaughtered by Death Eaters.
It became a media spectacle. The newspapers screamed and shrieked about the violence and horror of the murder scene while Alice screamed into her pillow. She screamed until her throat was raw read and couldn’t speak, not even a whisper. Her father’s funeral was unspeakably awful for Alice as it confirmed her living nightmare. Her father had been taken from her, so she let grief take her. She fell head first into grief, letting it suffocate her. Alice didn’t say a word for a month.
Two months late into the semester, Alice came back to Hogwarts. She wasn’t the same excitable girl anymore. Grief had turned to anger and it seeped its way through her. She stormed out of classrooms, slammed doors, and screamed her lungs out in the Forbidden Forest. It wasn’t enough. She still felt that pain.
Alice clawed her way for an escape, sipping on firewhiskey, smoking cigarettes, and swallowing the occasional pill. The bright and attentive student disappeared. Now she hardly passed her classes. It was her mother and cousins that grounded her back to reality. They were too grief stricken to look after themselves, let alone cope with her. Her mother received all her detentions and poor marks. Alice couldn’t bear to put any more stress on her shoulders, her self-destruction couldn’t continue.
Alice managed to cope with her grief. But she lost something other than her father. She lost part of her light. Before, Alice had felt all the emotions that could fit in her body. Sometimes described as overemotional, she had experienced the world in technicolour. But she became harder and colder, choosing to dedicate more time to her studies. It was the only way to refocus her grief.
A dimly lit room aligned with twelve desks. ALICE PREWETT (20) frowns, glancing down at the exam in front of her. Her muscles twitch. She scribbles down an answer, her hand grimy with ink. Alice peers up at the ancient clock. She continues writing.
Determined to follow in her father’s footsteps, Alice trained to become an Auror.
Never afraid to stand up for what she believed in and never one to think before taking action, Alice made her stance towards elitism rather clear. Pureblood, half blood, muggle born, it’s all the same to her.
After her father’s violent murder, the rest of the Prewett family’s safety became a concern. Alice didn’t want to sit on the sidelines and wait out the war; she wanted to fight. She wanted to be a member of The Order. Her mother originally refused to let her participate for her own safety, but Alice pushed against her decision until she gave in.
Now, Alice feels stuck. Her impatience is only growing. It’s beginning to get to her. Neither her Auror position or The Order is doing enough. A desperate and fiery yearning has begun to suffocate her. The war had taken her father; she wants to try her hardest to ensure no family would be broken apart by violence. It’s her family’s legacy. It’s the cause that claimed the lives of so many that she cares about. It may as well be in her blood. She wants to join the fight.
Even now, Alice is struggling to find herself. Her anger still burns inside her, a cold and aggressive flame that will never go out. Her grief hasn’t left her either but it has lessened.
The once wild and fiery brilliant girl has been burnt to cinders. The intensity used to define her but she hasn’t been able to find it again. She’s scared of losing control and becoming a danger to herself. Alice is finding it impossible to learn balance, either a bushfire, out of control and dangerous or an icy cold flame, vicious and intense.
alice is portrayed by priyanka chopra and is taken
