#hprpbebo

“Oh Lord, Oh Lord what have I done.  I’ve fallen in love with a man on the run.  Oh Lord, Oh Lord I’m begging you please.  Don’t take that sinner from me.”  A young woman breathed out sweetly to the babe swaddled warmly in her arms.  The voice, which oozed from her lips, was euphonic in its beauty.  Yet the woman herself was anything but pleasant.

“Oh Lord, Oh Lord, he’s somewhere between a hangman’s knot, and three mouths to feed.  There wasn’t a wrong or a right he could choose.  He did what he had to do.”   She continued on. 

Many would deem her choice of song inappropriate for the young son in her embrace, but she couldn’t help but smile at the words.  How apt, she thought.  The words seemed to capture the bare essence of her lover, the child’s Father. 

She sighed and peered upwards to the ever-changing sky.  The air was cold.  Winter had taken a claim to the countryside and not even the heavy cloak she wore sheltered her from the bitter cold.  She pondered what had brought her out here.  What was she thinking bringing the young child?  Yet, in her anger and upset she felt she had no other choice.

elylalynch

After the rather daunting confession she had made to her best friend Elyla Lynch – that she was getting married to somebody of whom she had presumed all her life to be biologically related to her – things had gone rather better than Hope Yaxley had presumed. Despite Elyla’s initial reaction to the news; namely shock and confusion – which was understandable to say the least - Hope believed her best friend had now fully accepted her happiness. The two girls had gotten into the habit of shopping constantly, always using Hope’s wedding as an excuse to take trips around the globe to places like Paris, Barcelona and Milan, sitting and gossiping in tiny cafes and spending some much needed time together. It was easy to get engrossed in your lover once you met your soulmate, but best friends were much like soulmates too. They were there for you whenever you needed them, to dry your tears and hold you until the world didn’t seem like such a bad place anymore. There were many derogatory things you could call Hope Yaxley, yet even her worst enemy would admit that she was loyal. Hope had resounded never to forget Elyla despite the throes of her romance; she was a blessing, and so would remain to Hope for the rest of her life. The two girls had been back at Hogwarts - sporting fresh sun-tans and the latest couture looks - for only a few days before Hope had brought up the idea that perhaps Elyla should meet the man who was inevitably going to become a fixture in her life. That had been almost as nerve-wracking as telling Elyla she was getting married full stop. Hope knew that Elyla had her qualms about Aaron, and understandably so. Aaron had a reputation as a monster, someone who cared for nobody and nothing but himself. The idea of him knowing how to love was laughable, and yet it had happened. Hope thought that Elyla could understand that a little better perhaps if she met Aaron for herself, and learned not to fear him quite so much. For as long as Elyla was her best friend, Hope felt rather certain that he wouldn’t harm her. Besides, wasn’t Freddie, Elyla’s twin, Aaron’s best friend? Hope had reassured Elyla and gotten her consent, before setting up a meeting between the three of them.

Despite their youth, Hope and Aaron were already an incredibly wealthy couple. Recently they had purchased a summer home in Rome, mostly due to the sentimental value that the place now held for them. It was where Hope had received the news that she had been swapped at birth, where Aaron had proposed to her. The place held a special place in her heart, and the pair had resolved to spend their free time living away from the hustle and bustle of the English Wizarding crowd and escape their often tumultuous family lives. The summer home was gorgeous, large and regal with ornate architecture alike to the Italian Renaissance buildings that Hope adored. Furnished with elaborate antique pieces scattered with some modern touches, the home was a place for the couple to escape away from the stresses of planning their luxurious wedding. It was to the Summer Home that Hope took Elyla, after begging Aaron to take a chance and to meet her, because Elyla would always be a huge part of her life as well as he.

Many people had questioned why Scorpius Malfoy had been placed in the Gryffindor House, for several different reasons. Firstly, there were the friends of his Father’s who had never even met him wondering how on earth a son of Draco’s could ever be placed in the house of his Father’s rivals. Secondly, there were the people that actually knew Scorpius. Gryffindor was for the house of the courageous and the brave, and yet Scorpius – an incredibly short boy of sixteen, with a graceful, skinny frame alike a bird, a cherubic, feminine face and large, brown eyes – appeared to be scared of everything. The slightest intimidation was enough to bring the young boy to tears, and he spent his days in fear of the larger boys in the seventh year who seemed to get a kick out of teasing him for being smaller, for being different. The truth was, it was brave for Scorpius simply to make it through most days when there was so much against him.

It had been a fateful day on Scorpius’ sixth birthday when the Dark Lord and his dreaded female accomplice Bellatrix Lestrange had appeared out of thin air with a time-turner wrapped around their necks. The two darkest magicians of all time had tortured Scorpius almost to the point of death. Whilst Draco and Astoria Malfoy had fully understood what had happened – the Dark Lord had travelled to the future back from the 1990s in order to shame the Malfoy name as punishment for Scorpius’ Grandfather’s wrongdoings – the Malfoy family had decided to cover up the incident and blame it on Scorpius himself for ‘messing around with his Father’s wand’. Miraculously, Scorpius had left Saint Mungo’s hospital alive, although he had a severe speech impediment and had been weak, tearful and dependent ever since.

Now in his sixth year at Hogwarts, Scorpius had found a group of loving friends to counteract the lack of love he received in his abusive childhood, where his parents hadn’t shown him any real love and affection. One of those friends was Freddie Lynch, a distant relative of his. Scorpius had lost count of the many times Freddie had been there to support him, making him laugh when he was struggling or simply being a friendly face when he needed it. Scorpius had a big heart to contrast with his tiny body, and he loved without discrimination. He didn’t know the extremities to which he would not go in order to make his friends happy, and at the moment Freddie Lynch appeared to need someone to be there for him. Scorpius hadn’t seen the Werewolf around the school for days, only occasionally in the common rooms where he appeared sleep deprived. Freddie was losing weight, and Scorpius was becoming worried and heartbroken simultaneously. Why was nobody doing anything to help the poor boy? Despite his limitations, Scorpius cared very deeply and was intent that he would show Freddie in any way that he could.

Iris-Elliana Espanosa de Wills – more commonly known as Rissy Wills to her friends – had once been described as a free spirit. Admittedly, there were many aspects of being a Metamorphmagus which granted her inherent freedom. Iris could change her appearance whenever she wanted – could take off in an instance and start a new life wherever she wanted with a new identity. However, the young Witch had learned that complete control over everything did not equate to true freedom. Trapped in a head which consistently told her to tweak some aspect of her physical appearance in order to reach true physical perfection, Iris had turned to alcohol in order to silence her demons. A naturally fun-loving, fiercely witty young woman, not many noticed a difference in Iris’ behaviour. The sixteen year old was known to enjoy a drink, despite not quite being of age yet. However, it had got to the point where Iris would turn up to classes completely intoxicated, after downing shots of whiskey in the morning.  Her grades were falling, but needless to say – Iris couldn’t care less. She wasn’t exactly depressed, more that she was suffering from a lack of clarity in her life. Who was she? And where did she really belong? Her baby blue eyes were consistently scanning the halls of Hogwarts, where girl friends giggled and gossiped together, couples held hands and guys joked around. Iris felt like a ghost, laughing and joking with everyone she met yet never really feeling as if she belonged. It’s strange how alone you can feel when you are surrounded by other people. Even though she seemed in a constant whirlwind of social activity, Iris doubted there was anyone that she could really have a serious conversation with. Her twin sister Rosie was always busy with her friends, as popular as she was, and Mattie had reached the age now where he was far too cool to talk to his older sister even if his friends openly ogled her as she walked past. In fact, the only person she felt she could trust even a smidgeon was Connor Carney.

xfairbornson // Violet Weston-Prewett was infamous around the corridors of Hogwarts, despite not being one to stand out from the crowd. The miniature Ravenclaw with the dirty blonde hair had forever been referred to as ‘the psycho’s daughter’ by the other students, they would learn of her parentage and then run a mile in the opposite direction before the dainty girl had even had the chance to say hello. She had been in her second year of magical education when she had decided to drop her father’s surname and to be simply referred to as Violet Prewett form there on out, that way people would stick around and strike up a conversation with the blonde instead of constantly tip toeing around her, terrified that her dear daddy would pop up from no where and murder them without a second thought.

Violet’s life had seemly fallen perfectly into place since that day, her grades where above average for a young witch of her age - something that hadn’t been seem since the day’s of Hermione Granger, she had a close nit group of friends and she was a loveable, bubbly young girl with a good head on her shoulders. If only the students of Hogwarts would ever look outside of their dormitory windows in the dead of night then they would see the blonde beauty slowly emerging from the darkest depths of the Forbidden Forest, her hands coated in crimson blood and bone gristle as she ventured back up to the safety of the magnificent castle, her feet leading her onwards in a trance like state.

auroragreen // Violet Weston-Prewett was infamous around the corridors of Hogwarts, despite not being one to stand out from the crowd. The miniature Ravenclaw with the dirty blonde hair had forever been referred to as ‘the psycho’s daughter’ by the other students, they would learn of her parentage and then run a mile in the opposite direction before the dainty girl had even had the chance to say hello. She had been in her second year of magical education when she had decided to drop her father’s surname and to be simply referred to as Violet Prewett form there on out, that way people would stick around and strike up a conversation with the blonde instead of constantly tip toeing around her, terrified that her dear daddy would pop up from no where and murder them without a second thought.

Violet’s life had seemly fallen perfectly into place since that day, her grades where above average for a young witch of her age - something that hadn’t been seem since the day’s of Hermione Granger, she had a close nit group of friends and she was a loveable, bubbly young girl with a good head on her shoulders. If only the students of Hogwarts would ever look outside of their dormitory windows in the dead of night then they would see the blonde beauty slowly emerging from the darkest depths of the Forbidden Forest, her hands coated in crimson blood and bone gristle as she ventured back up to the safety of the magnificent castle, her feet leading her onwards in a trance like state.

Violet Weston-Prewett was infamous around the corridors of Hogwarts, despite not being one to stand out from the crowd. The miniature Ravenclaw with the dirty blonde hair had forever been referred to as 'the psycho's daughter' by the other students, they would learn of her parentage and then run a mile in the opposite direction before the dainty girl had even had the chance to say hello. She had been in her second year of magical education when she had decided to drop her father's surname and to be simply referred to as Violet Prewett form there on out, that way people would stick around and strike up a conversation with the blonde instead of constantly tip toeing around her, terrified that her dear daddy would pop up from no where and murder them without a second thought.

Violet's life had seemly fallen perfectly into place since that day, her grades where above average for a young witch of her age - something that hadn't been seem since the day's of Hermione Granger, she had a close nit group of friends and she was a loveable, bubbly young girl with a good head on her shoulders. If only the students of Hogwarts would ever look outside of their dormitory windows in the dead of night then they would see the blonde beauty slowly emerging from the darkest depths of the Forbidden Forest, her hands coated in crimson blood and bone gristle as she ventured back up to the safety of the magnificent castle, her feet leading her onwards in a trance like state.

Violet Megan Emily Weston-Prewett was born on 4th May to James Weston and Megan Prewett. Her father had recently been imprisoned in Azkaban for use of all three of the Unforgivable curses on a group of Muggles, however James Weston was able to overrule the Wizengemott’s first sent ace of death by Dementor’s kiss by plea of insanity. With her father locked away and her mother still at school Violet was raised by her paternal Grandmother, Emily Weston, in the family manor which was nestled away from prying eyes on the coast of Devon, South England.

From a very young age Violet displayed signs of temporary blackouts, something that she had inherited from her father, although these were merely seen as ‘nothing to make a fuss about’ by her Grandmother, despite the women’s own son going on to commit violent crimes and murders whilst in his own catatonic state. It wasn’t until Professor Dumbledore payed the ten year old girl a visit at the family home and arranged to set up an agreement with Emily Weston for her Granddaughter to be monitored by the school matron Madame Promfrey and to be under the ever watchful gaze of the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, Owen Page (who happen to be Violet’s God Father) for signs of the Weston trait of psychotic behaviour. With all the measures in place the kindly Headmaster agreed for Violet to start her magical education the following year.)

During her first few years at Hogwarts Violet was sorted into Ravenclaw house, again just like her father and came top of her class in the end of first year exams. She may have inherited her Father’s taste for torture but she had also received her Mother Megan’s smart brain and extraordinary wit - something that came quite handy when the miniature eleven year old found herself face to face with a giant Acromantula after venturing into the Forbidden Forest late one evening with a group of friends.

She is currently in her fifth year and is a kind, warm young girl with a good head on her shoulders, although she isn’t afraid to flirt her way out of a stick situation if needs be… If only it wasn’t for the small tiny detail that she’s truly her father’s daughter and is becoming more and more like him with each passing day. They say that students and villagers from Hogsmead have been going missing and little Violet has been spotted on a number of occasions leaving the Forbidden Forest with crimson blood on her hands and a glassy, hypnotised look in her green orbs. Maybe she’s not so innocent after all. At the end of the day she is James Weston’s daughter after all.

- five foot three, she's a tiny one.

- dirty/mousey blonde hair.

- exceptionally pale.

- large jade green doe eyes.

- patronus is a unicorn.