#totalusintro

NAME: Emmeline Kaira Vance

NICKNAME: Emi

AGE: 20/21

DATE OF BIRTH: 28th November 1959

SEXUALITY: Demisexual

PARENTS: Elizabeth Vance [muggle, deceased]  & Rohit Khan [pureblood, absent]

SIBLINGS: 5 half siblings, all older. Oldest half-brother Sai Khan.

HOUSE: Gryffindor

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

HOMETOWN: London

ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good

PERSONALITY: ENTJ

PATRONUS: Unicorn

Overall, Unicorns are kind of giving by nature and have the capacity to venture far beyond their peers to reach places that others would find impossible.  This is the greatest strength of the Unicorn.  Their adventurous nature refuses to see limitations.  They are always moving toward the next great idea and they almost always take the road less traveled to get there.  Their seemingly endless energy can be infectious, and when they take on a challenge, they are as passionate as ever… for a while.  While they truly care about the challenges they take up (and they do so often), Unicorns are quick to give up on something if they don’t see the end result fast enough for their liking.  That’s not to say that they don’t care, they just lose focus on one project and would prefer to spend their exceptional capabilities on something else for the moment. The life of a Unicorn is about the experience, not the big plan. At best they use their energy to change the world.  At worst, they become self-obsessed and spin their wheels in all the wrong directions.  They never lack ideas, and are always on the move.  If the Unicorn can get focused on a single destination, there is practically nothing that can stop them from getting there.

BOGGART: her friends being dead / held under the cruciatus

WAND: Ebony with dragon heartstring core, 10 inches, inflexible.

Ebony - This jet-black wand wood has an impressive appearance and reputation, being highly suited to all manner of combative magic, and to Transfiguration. Ebony is happiest in the hand of those with the courage to be themselves. Frequently non-conformist, highly individual or comfortable with the status of outsider, ebony wand owners have been found both among the ranks of light and dark revolutionaries alike. The ebony wand’s perfect match is one who will hold fast to his or her beliefs, no matter what the external pressure, and will not be swayed lightly from their purpose.

Dragon Heartstring - As a rule, dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. Dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types. While they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner.The dragon wand tends to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord. It is also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental.

BIO aka the multi-chaptered international life story that literally no one asked for (TLDR AT THE END):

Prejudice is something that Emi is familiar with, something that has followed her from the day she was born. She was an accidental pregnancy, the result of a one-night stand between muggle tourist Elizabeth Vance and pureblood heir, Rohit Khan. Her paternal grandparents were furious when news of her conception got out, and banned Rohit from having any connection with his illegitimate child other than providing the woman with monthly payments to keep her silence. The family was big in both muggle and magical circles, and it would not do to have such a shameful secret exposed - especially since Rohit already had a family, and his eldest son Sai was already fifteen years old. Sai's mother was in favour of having the infant killed, but her husband forbid it, of the opinion that his son should learn to manage his own mistakes. And murder of an infant would make for even more unseemly gossip, if word was somehow to get out.

Emi spent the first six years of her life in England with her mother. She was bold and determined, getting into fights with bullies who tried to tell her to "go back where she came from" and running circles around her peers academically. For all her intelligence, she failed to understand how to make friends her own age, and would often be found trailing along after the older kids who found her amusing.  Her life wasn't easy, but Emi hadn't known anything else. This was just how life was, or so she thought.

The first step to change was her first act of accidental magic. It was Christmas, and all the occupants of the building had thrown a big party on the rooftop. Everyone was drunk - this included one of her neighbours, who wanted to touch in her ways she didn't like or understand. He went flying across the rooftop, out from the secluded corner he had lured her to and slammed his head on a metal pole. Nobody realised what had happened or who was responsible, and the incident was written off  as a drunk man's careless shenanigans. Emi didn't say anything, but she didn't forget either. It took her years to trust someone to touch her and sometimes, when she recoils from the idea of intimacy, she wonders if this incident is the reason for it all. 

The minute her magic manifested, Emi's name was automatically added to the Khan's family tree tapestry. Her grandfather insisted that Rohit retrieve the girl and bring her back to India, and her grandmother was furious. But her grandfather's word was law in the family, and so after a tearful goodbye, Emi left behind her old life and moved to Bombay. There was nothing she really felt tied her to England, and she was more than happy to get as far away from her neighbour as possible.

From the very first moment in the large, ancestral home the extended family lived in, Emi was an outcast. She was an illegitimate child, and a half-blood to boot. The culture seemed to her barbaric and backwards, and she fought back at every opportunity. She wouldn't wear the itchy dresses, she wouldn't address her younger cousins and second cousins with honorifics, she wouldn't stay silent when members of the household pulled mean trick after trick. She missed England terribly - she missed the organised traffic, the cool rain, her mother singing her lullabies before bed. The requests she made to go home seemed to fall on deaf ears, and four years passed.

In those four years, Emi discovered an unexpected ally - her eldest half-brother, Sai. In his early twenties, and expected to carry on the Khan legacy, Sai wanted nothing more than to escape from his family's overbearing influence. He didn't believe in his family's ideologies, and definitely didn't believe in the bullying of a child - and he told his mother as much, after discovering Emi in the kitchens one day, scrubbing pots with a bruise on her left cheek. He started to look out for her - bringing her sweets, helping her with the homework the tutors gave her, buying her the comfortable cotton clothing she sorely missed. In return, Emi slowly opened up, telling him stories of her time with her mother and all the things that she was still so homesick for. Hearing these stories gave Sai an idea, and he slowly hatched a plan.

At his twenty-fifth birthday party, the day he was supposed to accept his title as heir and step up to the responsibilities of his family, Sai instead made an announcement about the new job he had managed to land - the Indian Ambassador at the British Ministry of Magic. He would be moving to London, and taking Emi with him.

The backlash was loud, intense, and furious. It was practically a riot. It wasn't that the job was bad - it was reputable, even to the standards Rohit might hold his other sons up to. But not the heir. And to take his half-sister under his wing , to knowingly associate with a half-blood was an even bigger taboo. But Sai would not be swayed - he had come too far to back down - and a few days later he and Emi found themselves in Diagon Alley.

Tracking down her mother was relatively easy, but the reunion was bittersweet. In the time that Emi had been in Bombay, her mother had picked up an abusive boyfriend and an alcohol problem. With Sai's help, Emi managed to get rid of the former, but it seemed that the latter was there to say.

 When her Hogwarts letter came, she was wary and reluctant. She didn't want to leave her mother again, as much as it tore at her to see the formally affectionate woman constantly slurring her words and reeking of wine. So far, the magical world hadn't been any nicer to her than the muggle one, and Emi would much rather face the enemies she did know rather than the ones she did not.

The visit from Professor McGonagall won her over, and in the fall of 1971, she set off to Hogwarts and was sorted into Gryffindor. She was still wary, and initially cold to her peers, but she opened up, little by little. She spent the years enjoying her childhood, laughing with her friends, gossiping with them, sneaking late night snacks, cramming essays. She loved having the power, the magic that came out of her wand, and she was a devoted student. She especially focused on combative magic - never again would she let anyone try to take advantage of her - and excelled at DADA. The clouds slowly gathering over her teenage years came in the form of blood prejudice (really, she was quite used to this by now - it was more annoying than hurtful), her lack of understanding at her peers' romantic/sexual inclinations and her mother's deteriorating health. Elizabeth Vance's addiction to alcohol was only getting more severe by the year, and in Emi's sixth year, she passed away after falling over while drunk and bleeding out. Emi couldn't forgive herself for the incident - if only she had been at home, not at Hogwarts, she could have stopped this. She could have helped her mother beat her alcoholism, and she could have saved her life. At the same time, the annoying pureblood ideology was starting to become more dangerous, and Sai was growing worried.

On September 1st, 1976, Emi hugged her brother goodbye, and stepped onto the Hogwarts Express. It was becoming risky to stay in Magical Britain, and Sai had decided to move back to Bombay. He wanted Emi to come join him after finishing her final year - she wasn't fully sold on the idea, but that was okay. She had time to decide, after all.

Until she didn't.

The betrothal letter came two days before the end of the Christmas holidays. It made no sense - she was a half-blood, she was supposed to be unwanted - but after hearing Sai sing her praises, her father and grandmother had apparently decided that she was worthy of being married off.  The wedding was to a wealthy Indian muggleborn, who had risen in society by making a fortune but still lacked the reputable family connections. The letter caught fire in her hand, and Emi spent the rest of the day sulking.  Was there ever going to be something she didn't have to fight?

The attack left Emi stranded. She had no home, no family in the country - nowhere to go other than back to Bombay. Where she refused to be, because she wasn't a piece of meat who would willingly be sold off like her older sisters and cousins. She would not.

With no magical qualifications, and little other choice, Emi stayed with a friend in London, and picked up a couple of part-time muggle jobs. It was enough to survive, and if she could have turned her back on the wizarding world she might have even considered college and restarting her life. But the wizarding world was were all her friends were, and there was no way she could walk away while the people she loved suffered. She joined the order and did what she always did best - she fought.

When the time came for her to reply to the betrothal and return to Bombay Emi did the only thing she could - she lied, putting into motion the plan she had first come up with when she was seven year olds watching her cousin sit on the wedding podium wearing ten pounds of gold and red-rimmed eyes. She recruited a friend to pose as a fake boyfriend, using him as the reason she would stay in London and not get married. She was almost disappointed with the lack of drama that followed - Rohit simply switched the betrothal to another distant cousin whose father had displeased him, and Sai merely warned her to stay safe in the war. An escape plan cultivated over years for, what, exactly?

The re-opening of Hogwarts filled Emi with hope and fear. Hope, because it felt like the world might be on the road to recovery and a qualification would allow her to get a job. Hopefully one that didn't involve dealing with grumpy customers. Fear, because it was not just her and her friends returning to Hogwarts - it was also the purebloods that sneered at her and secretly wished she would die. Perhaps some that were actively working towards that goal. It might be school, but it was also a battlefield and Emi knows she needs to stay alert at all times. But the nostalgia and memories of happier times have only made her realise how tired she is of all the constant fighting. Was there ever going to be a time where she didn't need to fight?

BACKGROUND

alice fortescue is known to some as a mystery. born to two loving purebloods, alice was always supposed to be the spitting image of her parents — soft, kind, and weak. and while she might’ve had the stunning looks of her mother and the wavy hair of her father, that was where the similarities stopped.

some people like to joke that maybe alice is adopted, since she is so obviously different to bother her mother and father. and coming from some, this can be funny. other times, alice won’t hesitate to push you into a corner and defend her parents honour.

while alice loved her parents dearly, as any daughter should, she likes to think that she raised herself in a way. her parents were often distracted trying to stay on top of the family ice-cream business, and as much as they were incredibly attentive, it was always their philosophy that their little girl should find her own way in the world, to form her own opinions and find what makes her happy all on her own. 

unfortunately, instead of searching for the good in the world, little alice went straight for the bad, finding toxic and unwelcoming environments everywhere she turned. she found the world to be a cruel and unforgiving place, and from a young age she taught herself how to be hard, impenetrable — how to be everything her parents were not.

with scraped knees and a near permanent scowl, little alice shut herself off from the rest of the world, her soft interior only visible to those she knew she could trust ( which for quite a while was limited only to her parents ). she set out on trying to be better than those who had taught her what a terrible world she lived in, but being better did not always equal being kind.

it is perhaps this upbringing that gave alice many of the traits which landed her in the house of the snakes when she started at hogwarts. ambitious, cunning, determined and fraternal, alice should’ve fit in right with her housemates.

but of course, in typical alice fortescue fashion, she made enemies far quicker than she made friends. having heard only bad things from her parents about slytherin, alice set out to make it abundantly clear from the moment she entered the dungeons that she would take absolutely none of the ‘purist bullshit’ she’d heard stories of.

it actually took quite a while for alice to find friends that she could trust in her first year. she would often get into fights with people who knew it was easy to rile her up, and it quickly became her brand, in a way. she wasn’t used to making friends, but finally after a few months she found people who could get past the cold exterior she’d put up and appreciate her for what she was — an incredibly passionate, caring and driven individual.

for the first few years, alice absolutely flew through school. she was intelligent, witty and abundantly creative, and even if her teachers didn’t particularly like her ( punching a few purists is sure to give you a bad rep ) they respected her and her work ethic. everything was running smoothly, in fact, until the war started to rear its ugly head.

even before the battle that broke out at hogwarts, alice’s mind had started to slip further and further away from school and ever so closer to what role she might play in this impending war. her grades slipped and her number of friends dwindled, but she didn’t care - she’d always known it was her duty to fight for that which was right, and this war was, to her, her calling.

as soon as hogwarts shut down, alice dove headfirst into the war effort. she slotted herself immediately into the order of the phoenix and begged for them to give her something to do, anything to help, even if she was just sixteen. having moved back home, she acted for the first two years as an intel gatherer, listening to the whispers on the streets of hogsmeade and working at her fathers ice cream shop to appear seemingly innocuous. as soon as she turned 18 however, she would take nothing less than to be out on the field.

it didn’t take long for alice to become one of the best warriors the order had to offer, even if she was so young. she fought tooth and nail to keep the death eater’s off the streets and was assured she’d have a place in the auror program once she had completed her schooling. for a while, she felt invincible -- but only for a while.

PARENTAL DEATH TW: three months before hogwarts opened up its doors back to the students, florean fortescue was caught in the crossfire of a battle between two death eaters and an order member and died on the spot, right outside his own ice cream shop. official reports say it was an accident, but it didn’t take long for some to wonder whether the death eater’s had purposefully targeted the father of one of the order’s strongest members.

alice was completely and utterly distraught. she loved her father more than anyone else on this earth -- all he had ever sought to do was bring happiness to the lives of wixen. he was kind, soft and full of love and had never let the war touch him. he was the last person that should’ve been killed in this fight. he was the last person to deserve it, in alice’s eyes.

isolating herself from everyone in her life, including her mother, alice has felt empty ever since. she blames herself for not being there for him, for not dying in his place, and hasn’t even been back to the ice cream shop since ( the shop which is ‘ temporarily ’ closed ). audrey, alice’s mother, has tried everything to get her little girl back, but not even those two have seen each other since that fateful day. alice simply cannot bear it. she moved into the order safehouses but still kept herself away from everyone else, unsure with what she even wanted to do anymore. END TW

when hogwarts opened back up, alice wasn’t so sure she was going to return. her old friends ( some of whom she hadn’t spoken to in the last three months ) tried everything to convince her, but it was eventually albus dumbledore that managed to give her the final push. she has returned, but only with one goal in mind -- to earn her place in the auror program. she wants to get back out there, to find the asshole that killed her father and those who continue to kill innocent people every day. she’s sick of moping around and feeling sorry for herself -- it’s time to act, and no one is going to get in her way.

PERSONALITY

there are two things that make alice alice — her determination and her love.

if alice ever sets her mind to something, you can bet your ass she is going to get it done. nothing can ever come between alice and something she wants, and while for the most part this is a good thing, it can definitely sometimes get in the way of other, more important things. multiple friends have accused her of being too focused on her studies, or the order and she’s even lost a few who believed she just didn’t care enough about them. but that couldn’t be farther from the truth —

the one thing that really drives alice is her deep love and loyalty to her friends and family. while she might seem cold and cruel on the outside, she has a heart the size of jupiter. all she wants is to see the ones she loves safe from harm, from prejudice, from war. while it might take her a while to love, once she does, she loves so deeply and with such strength that she might just drown you.

so edgar’s a babe

who does not know he’s a babe. or rather he’s well aware that people think he’s a babe, but has ultimately come to doubt whether or not he deserves the babe title, as so many bones’ who have come before him have earned it.

if babe means ‘good person’ here as it always does, of course.

he’s always been a genuinely decent guy! he liked playing peace keeper in arguments and helping people through their conflicts  ---  not for any sense of control, but because he felt the world was a better place for it. when he was a child he loved being around his cousins and siblings and just basking in the human connection; he was always the diplomat in their games of imaginary dragon trainers and wizengamot leaders, always the one proposing that everyone get the same amount of time to race on the toy brooms. 

he never minded being more of a steadfast background guy than the main hero  ---  except for when he felt, and still feels, like a fraud; for thinking he helps all these people and does all these good things with no heroism to show for it all, for wanting that heroism, sometimes, if only to prove  ...  something. he wanted to leave the world better than he found it but was never sure if he was allowed to want that.

there was a sort of honor in knowing that everyone liked you, and that the version of you they liked was as close to the truth as possible.

in the daylight hours, faced with proof of that truth, it was easier for edgar to feel any sort of honor. alone, with nothing but the practiced distance of his thoughts, edgar wondered if, when the time came, he’d fall away from man he’d been built up to be. it was a conflict in him, this atlas effect; there was so much weight on his shoulders that there was a worry in the back of is mind that one day he would bend over backwards to do the right thing, and just snap in two and crumble. and there was an equallly pressing worry that one day it would come to pass that the world he carried was filled with hot air, and no one really needed him at all. surely there were greater heroes than edgar bones, newest and least extraordinary of the bones. surely there were greater men. 

part of that drive in him is what made him decide on becoming a mediwizard; he was fifteen sitting with his head of house & realizing that as cool and exciting as some of the jobs available to him were, he wanted to help people  ---  and in as hands on a way as possible. the idea being away from the hospital and acting as a first responder of sorts was daunting, but he knew as soon as he set his mind to it that it was the right career path. 

his heart didn’t quite break when hogwarts experienced something tragic that sent students packing before their education could be finished; of course, he felt very strongly about the decision to put students’ safety above all else, the school’s choice to close its walls until they could guarantee protection. and he was a bones; as much as the weight behind his name sometimes hurt his shoulders, he knew he could do alright without a finished education on the merit of who he was. when he went to the head of emergency mediwizards that operated through st. mungo’s and asked if there was any way he could work with them as a volunteer, the answer was yes. it was always going to be yes. 

it definitely took a toll on his energy and overall peace of mind but he never could have imagined doing anything else; even with the slow corruption of the ministry that the law enforcement offices could fall prey to, there was never much danger of that corruption reaching it’s sneaking hands towards the purely aid-driven job he held. he loved the work, and loved knowing that he’d made the right choice all those years ago. he couldn’t do everything they did  ---  bones or not, he still had things to learn before rising through the ranks  ---  but he could help people. 

that didn’t mean he never saw the acts of war outside of his time with the order: in fact, he knew that if he hadn’t been raring to fight right out of hogwarts, the minute he saw the war reach its hands towards the castle ...  seeing the suffering first hand as part of his job would have done the trick. there are some tragedies that edgar’s worked on that he carries with him, some pain he can’t unsee, but instead of souring his need for the world to be good, they’ve added to the simmering need he has to see things return to justice.

he shoulders a lot of responsibilities and sometimes flails a little bit under the pressure of it all. and then he adds a little dollop of self doubt onto the weight, and cracks and crumbles but then soldiers on  ---  because if he doesn’t, then it was all for nothing, right?

that’s another good thing about his job: he worked long shifts and ends up dead on his feet more days than not. it made it harder for the nights spent beating himself up instead of sleeping to make a return from his hogwarts days. 

he’s adopted!! it was never a secret, and it never occurred to him that his family might treat him differently for it; perhaps because they didn’t. he was loved as much as he loved his family in return. so he never had cause to doubt that his family’s care for him was genuine  ...  but it did ( and still does, sometimes ) make him feel like he didn’t deserve the Bones Hype out in the ‘real’ world. 

like with most things in him, there’s a duality of self doubt – he feels real around his family and worries that he shouldn’t when away. or, more accurately, he worries that others look at him and don’t see something real. someone real. 

he’d always been pretty bad at opening up to people, maybe because he did worry so often about being a fraud. there was a fear that every time he let someone see a more vulnerable side of himself, all they’d do was take a look at his worst fears and confirm them. growing up, it was always easier to be the shoulder to cry on, the never-judging listener, the constant, rock-solid presence. he fell into a habit with it, helping others and being there for them so unfailingly that he never had to show his own weakness and doubts  ---  of which there were plenty. it’s a bad habit that he’s yet to grow out of.

but aside from that  --- or maybe related to it  ---  he was very involved on campus. perhaps Involved with capitalization, even. he really liked knowing a lot of people and being Involved and an Upstanding Member of the Hogwarts Community™

he really loves his family, as much as he did/does feel burdened by the good legacy they left him to deal with, and in his free time at work or order meetings he could be found scrawling out quick letters to various members of his extended family. at hogwarts, he could be reliably found doing the same as often as he could sneak a free moment. there’s a wide network of bones, and they’re all prominent enough in the public eye that he worried there might come a day when they all found a target placed on their backs. the letters were his way of assuring himself that that hadn’t quite happened  ...  yet.

he’s always been very bad at opening up to people, maybe because he does worry so often about being a fraud. there’s a fear every time he lets someone see a more vulnerable side of himself that all they’ll do is take a look at his worst fears and confirm them. growing up, it was always easier to be the shoulder to cry on, the never-judging listener, the constant, rock-solid presence. he fell into a habit with it, helping others and being there for them so unfailingly that he never had to show his own weakness and doubts  – of which there were plenty. it’s a bad habit that he’s yet to grow out of.

despite all of his seriousness and inner introspection, he is definitely capable of letting loose and just enjoying himself, out of his head for a bit. it happened a lot more when he was younger; he attended many a common-room party, was always up for a good time. but even when pushed abruptly out of school and into Adult Life, he jumped at the few and scattered chances for levity and light. he loved seeing his friends or coworkers or family get married or have children, loved celebrating their newest promotion or success. the war was a constant dark presence in their lives and edgar wasnever fully away from it  ---  and because of that he was determined to keep sight of what’s still good.

he was torn when the opportunity to return to hogwarts and finish his education fell back into his lap. as soon as that 76-77 school year cut itself off with a bang, he threw himself into work, into the order. he fought on pretty much every front he could, and it felt  ---  selfish, almost, to take a break from that. it felt like something he should have been strong enough to turn down. 

but logically he knew he’d never be able to do as much for people as a mediwizard if he didn’t finish out his schooling, if he didn’t take hold of every last ounce of education. there were spells and charms and defenses and potions he needed to master to be a true help to the tragedies his work called him into. the order had plenty of other members, and he consoled himself with the simple fact that his parents wanted him to return to hogwarts. it had been a long-held truth that during this war, once wixen came of age they were thrust out of the protective walls of hogwarts and into danger. when his family had the opportunity to see him safe again, if only for a little bit, they wanted him to take it. and it felt selfish to him to want to take it, but it was easier than breathing to do it at his family’s request. 

being back at school was different; he’d forged a whole life for himself as an adult wizard and being back at school felt like whiplash. he was still edgar here, full of bravado and caring and the last vestiges of typical gryffindor recklessness that he’d never been able to shake off. he wasn’t just a bones  ---  there was no order backup calling to him by his surname, no person on his emergency crew shouting out by that alone. surrounded by his peers again, he felt his age for once  ...   and he relished in it, and he hated himself for relishing in it. 

THE BASICS

full name: narcissa melania black

date of birth: january 23rd

age: 19

THE MAGIC

wand: ceder, phoenix core, ten inches, inflexible

patronus: has never successfully produced one

boggart: all the blacks, in a pile, dead. the end of her family, the end of the black bloodline. 

amortentia: earl grey tea, fresh thyme, snowberry

THE WOMAN

narcissa had classic youngest child syndrome- having successfully raised two “model” black children, druella and cygnus often left narcissa to her own devices, and as so often happens, their disinterest in educating narcissa in the proper way to behave led to her marked interest in anything and everything black, so desperate to please them.  

narcissa is the historian of the family, the secretary, the learner. while bellatrix and andromeda create their own history, narcissa is content to study and listen, to keep her mouth shut and her opinions to herself. she is the beautiful pet of the black house, a lovely thing in a vase on the shelf. only a pair of eyes and ears on the shelf, watching and listening and learning everything there is to know about anyone and everything. there’s no need to speak up, pick fights. she knows her beliefs and she knows that they are correct. she knows what is right and what is wrong. no need to defend herself. 

THE HEADCANONS

narcissa speaks four languages- english, french, japanese, latin

she respects her parents, but she doesn’t love them. she does love her sisters- even andromeda. 

she’s excellent at charms and has a knack for herbology. she’s studied potions diligently, but it’s not her passion. 

her loyalty lies with her family, not the death eaters. similar, but very different.

her greatest role model is bellatrix, her oldest sister

she is so, so, eager to please

WANTED CONNECTIONS

frenemy: if you asked narcissa how she felt about this person, she’d praise something about them while inwardly grimacing. the rules of polite society limit their interactions to snide comments and backhanded compliments, but narcissa would like nothing more than to see this person out of her life. 

maybe, possibly: this person and narcissa were maybe almost friends, maybe almost something more, but something about them wasn’t “acceptable”- maybe their last name, maybe their house, maybe their allegiances. but narcissa still respects this person although they’re on opposite sides, and might feel something a little deeper for them too. 

history.

child abandonement mention |  peter grew up in glasgow, scotland and was raised by his mother, a halfblooded witch called daraja pettigrew. his dad wasn’t in the picture, hadn’t been from the moment his mum had told him that she was pregnant. | end of mention

which meant peter learned how to be alone from a young age. his mother worked a lot, after all, so she could pay the rent of their small flat and give peter the bare minimum, the things he needed. peter delved into fictional worlds: he read books. comics, mostly, but also a lot of roald dahl. he also watched a lot of telly, because tv is the bomb.

went to muggle elementary, where he was kind of? an odd one out. his clothes were always a bit lumpy, his words a bit jumbled, his eyes shifty. was an outsider on good days, a target on less good ones. he spent many lunch breaks eating alone, and most of the time he didn’t mind — being alone meant he could let his mind wander.

still, it fucked with his self esteem. no kid likes feeling alone, or like an outsider.

and then hogwarts rolled around and! friends! marauders! peter felt so at home! oh my god okay listen. he loves the marauders so much and he was so hyped and happy to be part of this little group and there was a Lot of hero worship there, esp in the early days?

peter always loved heroes. he loves comic books and people who save the day and get the girl and do it all. i think he kind of … projected that onto james and sirius especially? did not know how to do this friendship thing as an 11 year old tbh, was a mess, was blinded by their amazingness damn

also. re: being sorted into gryffindor! peter admires heroism and bravery and chivalry, and it’s your values that get you sorted some place. and he does try to be brave, and he IS, because he becomes a damn animagus for his bud! i mean! he was not a hatstall btw  — i choose to ignore that stupid bit of post canon. it took a while for the hat, sure, but no more than two minutes. 

pete was & is a shit student, not bc he was dumb, but just because school was not. his thing. his jam. the system was just not for him. deadlines? exams? homework? no thank you. anyway, peter’s skills flourished a lot more in different settings, like … using charms for convenience. or becoming an animagus for his bff. making potions against hangovers. etc.

becoming an animagus for remus was ! important ! to peter ! he did it for remus, not because of peer pressure, or anything else — he did it because it was right, and his friend deserved it and ! he did it, too, because he could. sure, his transfig grades may have been more than poor, but the kid did have some skill. he just needed motivation, which mcgonagall didn’t give (bc. she scared him.) and this situation? motivated the hell out of him. 

peter would be lying if he said he wasn’t taken a bit aback when he learned about remus’ lycanthropy — not because he was scared of him, to be honest, but he was just ? shocked ? he was more scared for remus, and so sad? so fucking sad for him? : (

collects chocolate frog cards like it’s his damn job. i mean, he did it before hogwarts, but once he arrived and there was more opportunity to trade and a whole club dedicated to it, peter grew more and more driven to complete his collection, lmao. peter also really likes playing gobstones and is pretty good at it? same with chess & card games — he loves games!!!! so much!!!

weed & anxiety tw | peter started smoking pot in the summer between his fourth and fifth year, and never really stopped. it made him slack more at school, but also eased his anxiety, which had started to develop in his fourth year. as months passed, peter became more and more of a stoner, which made him both more relaxed and funnier, but also ... a whole of a lot lazier. | end of weed tw

peter had always been a bit ... fidgety, easily on edge, a bit nervous, but he’d never really known anxiety until around fourteen years old. his insecurities grew, as he started comparing himself more to his friends and finding nothing but things he lacked in comparison to them, and questions as to why they put up with him. | end of anxiety tw

so his schooldays mostly looked like ... doing nothing, playing games, having fun with his mates, getting high, forgetting his homework, stressing about homework, and somewhere, in a tiny corner of his being, worrying about the war. whenever those worries started coming up, though, he was able to push them away, because the war was not yet there, not for him at least. there was graduation to worry about first, and once that was done, then he could worry about the war.

and then the war came to hogwarts. peter was shocked. peter had been in denial about the war and how close it could hit him, because in his mind he and his friends would be safe at hogwarts, would be safe until at least graduation, and then that was all gone. peter didn’t do much during the battle. i can imagine that he just hid, that he tried to stay out of trouble, that a side of him showed itself that he did not like at all. he worried about his friends, hoped they were safe, but didn’t go looking for them, didn’t try to protect them: he clung to safety and hid. like a fucking coward. he prayed, for a moment, and then cursed god to hell and back. probably smoked a few cigarettes, too.

post battle & currently.

peter is ashamed. ashamed of his cowardice, ashamed of his passiveness, of his incapability to stand up and fight, like so many of his friends did. a disgust grew in his chest for himself, and yet he was glad, somewhere, that he had hidden. he’d not seen as much as others had. he’d not gotten hurt. he had not died.

he did join the order, along with his friends, in an attempt to make up for his earlier lack of bravery, but he finds himself incapable to do much. he’s not good at dueling and while he’s able to be strategic and cunning, his mind seems to shut down whenever he tries to apply himself. he’s terrified, frankly, and he’s angry, because he should just be at fucking hogwarts. 

that idea i mentioned earlier, that the war wouldn’t be real until after graduation, and then graduation being postponed significantly, kind of froze peter up. rather than dedicating himself to the order in his own ways, as he would do in a canon verse, or eventually deciding to walk over to the death eaters, peter just became passive. i think peter hung around hq a lot, cleaning up and cooking food and making sure there was always enough tea/coffee/beer/liquor around for when there were meetings. would rather clean a dirty toilet than go on a mission. The Order’s personal MAID! 

depression & weed & eating disorder (bed/bulimia) tw | peter feels useless. he feels like a shitty person. he feels like he’s a burden. he hates himself. peter starts secluding himself, hiding in his mother’s home. he smokes more pot. he sometimes goes a week without seeing someone besides his mum. he watches too much telly and reads comics and drowns in fictional worlds and he becomes depressed. he sinks into it without noticing and can’t come back from it. his eating habits ( which have always bordered on unhealthy ) turn worse; peter binges, and then restricts, falls into a cycle. it’s the only routine he has.

when he’s around his friends, he lives up a little. he cracks jokes and wants to play games and laughs and feels a bit more alive, but he always craves his time on his own. that’s his new way to feel safe: to stick to his newly found routine, hidden in his room, away from reality. | end of tw

and then, finally, he was able to return to hogwarts. the three years spent away from school feel like a blur, if you ask him now, a useless blur, and peter’s laughing when he steps on the train. he’s glad. he’s glad. he can return to his plan to graduate and then, maybe, find the power in himself to face the war, rather than still, kind of, deny it. peter just wants to return to his last year and make the most of it, and return to the way life once was. ( that that’s kind of impossible is, well, yet another thing he’s in denial about. )

random facts & ramblings.

peter parker is his favourite superhero just because ... they share a first name and because peter parker is a bit of an underdog too and peter is just like! amazing! he named his owl parker.

he hates cats. used to love them --- he was allowed to take the cat from home with him to hogwarts when he was eleven, but he brought him back home after an unfortunate incident where his cat nearly ate him while he was in his animagus form. “sorry ma, i don’t love him any more. here. have him.” 

peter is actually a solid cook. this is because he learned to make some basic food when he was still a kid, first with his grandma, and later on his own. he liked doing it for his mother and he was. .. good at it? peter is also just passionate about food and finds comfort in cooking. breakfast food and baked goods are Prime Food Categories. 

he is asexual af, panromantic. has kissed both guys and gals and nb pals but did not like it??? confused. does not understand sexuality and all that jazz but tries not to think abt it because like! he’s got enough stress! doesnt need to think abt this!

peter is also agender, but i think he’s a lot less aware about this, because it’s confusing and so he just tries not to think about it. he does feel okay with he/him pronouns, but just doesn’t feel connected at all to being a boy/man

peter has abandonment issues because his dad, well, never even bothered to be there. not even for a second. he’s just constantly scared that people will leave and it’s funny, because he will probably end up abandoning all of his loved ones KDJFHSDF.

peter is quite non confrontational but also not ... meek? he just avoids it, either by physically staying out of people’s way or by dismissing most of the things said and getting out of there. a Passive Kid. will, however, defends his friends honour, because damn it, he loves them so much.

he’s such a fucking dork i swear to god. but he’s funny! peter is really funny. i deeply believe in this. he makes great puns and is able to just come out of nowhere and make a comment that just. hits the nail right on its head. 

peter curses a lot and has a scottish accent and sometimes he will have a minute long cursing session that no one rly understands.

listen i have such a wide array of hc’s im not going to list them all here just ask me

possible plots.

tutors. someone help peter graduate bc that is like. something he does want to do. he’s taking his newts in transfig, potions and herbology.

fellow collectors. please trade chocolate frog cards with peter and help him finish his collection before he loses his gd mind.

let’s play a game! peter rly likes playing games and tbh he’s usually in for one ( though it does depend on who you are, lmao ) so! maybe your character and peter just like hanging out and playing some Games.

Rosmerta never grew up to be the optimist, to be the girl who wandered out of the box, but she did. No, Rosmerta Guitérrez grew up to be the realist, the one who didn’t dream, to be quiet but eloquent. To be the perfect daughter who went on the linear path her family paved for her. This, however, was not who she was or ever could be. The Gutiérrez Family owned a restaurant from the time she was a child, you’d find Rosmerta walking down the halls of it, talking to all the strangers that came through. Learning about the world from others, she realized there was so much more out there for her to see. There was so much to do. She learned to cook, she loved the restaurant environment to her core but there was so much more life to live. Rosmerta wanted to do it all and she would. She just couldn’t help herself. Even when 

From a young age, she’d be getting into her mother’s clothes, her brother’s clothes, ripping them up and making anything she could out of them. Sometimes, they’d change colors when she really wanted them to but she thought nothing of it -- she just had an imaginary mind. Rosmerta knew she didn’t fit quite fit in with the rest of her family -- asking too many questions, refusing to be quiet, blend into the background, do simply what they wanted her to do and nothing more but that was okay for her. For everyone else, especially her parents to her parents though, it wasn’t and when she got her letter for Hogwarts things got tenser. 

 Her parents felt they were being bamboozled, talks about magic a terrible but entertaining joke, until they stepped into Diagon Alley themselves and realized what a new world this was. That it was real. One they didn’t want their daughter part of, something they were very vocal about. They decided to compromise, saying she’d go to the school but right after graduation leave the Wizarding World & learn how to do something else. Anything else, really. Rosmerta had plans completely different than her parents but she hoped they’d eventually come around. 

Getting to Hogwarts, being at Hogwarts despite being muggleborn Hufflepuff, was amazing. Her creativity knew no bounds and as she discovered different paints, different mediums of art she knew it was what she wanted to do with her life. Her studies were always put on the backburner, she knew she was going to be an artist of some sort and she didn’t need to have O.W.L.S. or N.E.W.T.S. for that. Rose danced, she sang, she took pictures, she painted, she even took up baking with the house elves on days when she felt like a complete disappointment to her parents. She lived. Her love for life, positivity, charming personality and free spirit attracted many friends – even if most of them didn’t know about her family or about her insecurities, she still got to know them all, keeping her problems to herself unless asked. To them, she was almost motherly but not quite – always willing to attend a party, smoke a joint, have a drink – and found herself quite attached the Wizarding World after all, knowing that what her parents plan wasn’t for her.  Even if there was a war brewing, this world was her own, this world made her happy and she belonged.

The summer before her seventh year, she told her parents of her plans that she didn’t want what they wanted – resulting in them kicking her out immediately. They had been clear since the minute she entered what the conditions were and her defying their apparent ‘agreement’ was the last straw. It hurt, the fact that so many others found so much good in her but her parents couldn’t see, that despite her being their daughter, because she didn’t follow the path they wanted her to, they just discarded her so easily. After her family kicked her out, she couch surfed for a while before finally deciding to go to Hogsmeade – asking for a job at the Three Broomsticks. When the owner realized she was homeless, they decided to let her live there and work for food & board instead. The workers of the Three Broomsticks took a sort of liking to her, remembering her from past visits, taking her under their wing.  Making drinks became a new form of art, something she started to love and the bartender took notice letting her practice but not serve yet, not until she finished her school work and became of age.

The war took a took a tool on Rose, she had already left/been kicked out of her parents, Hogwarts crumbled to the ground and she found solace in The Three Broomsticks - pouring her life and soul into it. Her art, while her passion, was used as an outlet more than ever as the death count and the fighting raged on. Rosmerta knew that fighting was never something she could do, at least, not the way the Order did but she supported them, letting Order members hide out in the Broomsticks if needed. She passed any information she heard that could be useful to them, she spoke out for fellow wixen and organized marches, rallies, to end the war, to bring awareness to various issues within the Wizarding War, but never did she fight with a wand. Her soul longed to be traveling, to traverse across the globe visiting the best cities of the world and living in it’s most artistic areas ( the gay ones too but that’s a different story ). She wanted to find other people like her, but it was her sacrifice for the greater good when the world she loved needed it most -- her art. 

She’s Rosmerta. Her last name hasn’t mattered for a very long time and so she no longer goes by it, which probably annoys quite a few people but if Prince, Madonna and Cher can do it -- she can too. 

( Though she might have trouble getting away with that now that she’s at school but anyone who’s been acquainted with her knows it’s just Rosmerta. )