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Messages - Ophelia Smallweed

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Archived Applications / Ophelia Smallweed
« on: 01/12/2016 at 01:11 »

Application for Hogwarts School


Name: Ophelia Jane Smallweed

Birthday: 11, 9/15/1937

Hometown: London Borough of Hackney

Muggleborn / Halfblood / Pureblood / Unknown

Magical Strength (pick one):
Divination / Transfiguration / Charms / Conjuring & Summoning

Magical Weakness (pick one):
Divination / Transfiguration / Charms / Conjuring & Summoning

Year (pick two): 1st (prefered), 2nd


The first time she had seen a muggle film was in 1945.

She had been just eight years old, so young and naive and unaware then, and she and Jere had dodged into the place as quick as mice. It was a large brick building on the busier side of town, posters plastered along the walls picturing the still faces of actors behind bold-lettered titles, a small line of linked-armed couples forming in the front to a booth. That was all the detail she had gathered as their small bodies flitted around taller legs, under the radar of muggle adults too distracted to look down.

Ophelia’s hand tightened around her brother’s wrist as she pulled him along behind her and hugged tight to the shadows the setting sun provided them, heart pounding in her throat. It’ll be fun, she had promised Jere a few hours before, but he had been on board with the plot the moment she had mentioned the word sneak into.

But sneak was such an untrustworthy word. Sneak was for the likes of her siblings-- for Olivia and Althea and even Alfie some of the time, and definitely Jere almost all of the time. It was a term for her father who was a sneak when he’d leave for hours, days, weeks at a time, but was never a sneak when he came back in the dead of night, tripping over his own two feet and knocking over everything on his way down in accidental announcement of his arrival.

No. Sneak was not for Ophelia Jane Smallweed. What she did was…. borrow. She would borrow a viewing of this muggle film for now, and pay the kind man outside when she had the coin to!

But she was eleven now. Eleven and much older now thanks and full of fire, kindled that day when she was young and eight and had seen the actress with her perfect arched eyebrows and coiffed hair and thick fur coat. She had been strong and in control and spellbinding-- for a muggle.

Ophelia was hooked. Every few weeks after, she went to the theater, an escape from her family when things got too rowdy or too loud. Almost all of the time she had to sneak borrow her way in, but she made note on a scrap of paper of how much total she owed the business.

Because she might have been a Smallweed, but she wasn’t no sneak. She was going to have money, you see. She was going to have a real job-- just like that actress!

Maybe, even, she’d be an actress herself.

Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.

House Request: Ravenclaw, if you so deem it uwu

Personality: Ophelia is outspoken and dramatic, in the most theatrical sense. Demanding attention and shining brightest when all eyes are on her, she refuses to be lost in a sea of siblings and absent parents. You will see her and you will hear her. She dreams big and won’t let anything sway her. With a curious mind and an eye for detail, Ophelia absorbs information like a sponge-- and not always good information either. Curses and rumors are not exempt, especially habits picked up from her siblings.

Often rebellious, Ophelia can be found doing whatever needs to be done to help support her very poor family, often finding simple ways to justify anything dishonest. Each dishonest act was a chance to perform, after all. Each one a bit of practice to help her become the starlet she knew she was destined to become… That’s what her father had told her once, anyway, before he promptly passed out on the porch.

Appearance: All lanky limbs and knobby knees, Ophelia stands at a slightly-above-average height for her age, which she swears on a stack of Witch Weeklys isn’t from stuffing her shoes. A short crop of dark hair adorns her head, something easily manageable that stuck after that time Alfie had to cut a wad of gum out of her longer tresses a few years back. As far as clothes go, they tend to be second-hand from both her brothers and sisters, because there just wasn’t enough to start being picky. Because of this, her style of dress tends to waver somewhere between “girly” and “tomboy”, something she’s only just starting to take notice of and care about.


"Hello! Is Emma Birch here?"

She had to stifle her laughter, a hand clamping over her mouth as her teeth bit down on the side of her cheek. Shoulders shaking in amusement, Ophelia was sitting hunched around a corner of the dungeon wall, the other girl’s words in a warbled echo around her. Evangeline was actually looking for the ghost of that rumored dead girl? She couldn’t believe it!

Well, it wasn’t what she had come down here for, but she couldn’t miss this opportunity to make things interesting. Taking a breath to calm her giddy self, Ophelia moved her hands to cup around her mouth.

“Oooh,” her voice sounded, high pitched and drawn out, mournful as she could get as she edged nearer the corner, “Ooooh, whyyy? Why would you call for me?”

A breath, a silent shake of laughter, and she edged nearer still-- except her foot caught on the strap of her bookbag she had let rest on the ground, and in the middle of another ghostly howl Ophelia stagger, her voice gasping as she stumbled-- directly into view of the other girl.

“Oh, uh…” A quick clearing of her throat, smoothing down the front of her skirt, she pointed her thumb over her shoulder where she had just come from, “Did you see that crazy ghost just now?! Haha. So weird, right?”

Nailed it.


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