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Application for Hogwarts School
→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.Name: Poppy Applewhite
Birthday: April 8, 1943
Hometown: Hogsmeade, formerly London
Bloodline: Muggleborn / Halfblood / Pureblood / Unknown
Magical Strength (pick one):Divination / Transfiguration / Charms /
Conjuring & SummoningMagical Weakness (pick one):Divination / Transfiguration / Charms / Conjuring & Summoning
Year (pick two): First, Second
Biography: She had been floating, it seemed, for the past two years. A fairytale had taken over her life. Part of her suspected she’d died that day with Peter in the alley and this new strange world of magic and funny names and weird creatures was the zany afterlife she’d been dumped in. But then she reminded herself that things still hurt here. She was trapped by adults now stuck in an orphanage. There was no Peter, either. And Peter was dead, she knew that. She’d seen it and felt it and watched herself explode with the knowing of it.
And ever since had been a dream, like it wasn’t her really walking through it all. The little things kept her grounded, the familiar pieces of a childhood on the streets. She still took what she deemed she needed along with precautions to keep it. She still couldn’t do magic, no matter how many times people told her she was a witch and floated something heavy through the air. But that was about to change.
Two years, she’d sat idly by watching other people do things she couldn’t waith a magic stick. Two years she’d slept on cold mattress trying to rearrange everything she’d learned about the world. And finally, at the turn of her 11th year, they said she was finally ready. No more dingy shared rooms, no prim old hags flaunting their abilities in front of her anymore. She had her own wand now and was going off to live in a castle. The whimsical fog of her personal limbo seemed to have been thinning and was now on the verge of breaking.
With the promise of new chapters and the chance to stir her stagnant life, Poppy was more than ready for the next adventure.→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.House Request: Leaving it up to the hat!
Personality:Poppy is a firecracker hidden in a rubbish pile. She’s easy to look over and disregard with an upturned nose, but set that pile on fire and finding cover would be wise. Despite her quick temper, she is usually happy and energetic, and quick to seek the next adventure. Restless in tight or quiet spaces, she prefers to be in the hub of people unconcerned whether they’re paying attention to her or not. She is hardworking but easily distracted. She makes friends easily, and loses them hard. Appearance:Poppy is an average-sized girl for her age, if a little on the scrawny side. She has long, red-brown hair that is normally unkempt and or tied back out of the way.→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.You come across one of these posts on the site. Please select one & reply as your character. Remember, you can only roleplay your own character's actions, not Evangeline's or Hugh's. Option I:The dungeons. A place eleven-year-old Evangeline had not yet travelled since her arrival at Hogwarts.
A place she really was just fine with not knowing; but it was too late. The dare had been accepted, even if it had been done in fear of being kicked out of Gryffindor, like the older girls had said she would because Gryffindors were supposed to be brave.
The air changed instantly when she hit the main corridor of the dungeons. The dampness was almost too much for her and she instinctively took a deep breath to avoid the sensation of being suffocated. There was also a sour burning smell which Evangeline assumed was from many, many Potions lessons.
Further and further she walked, her steps so slow and gentle they made no noise against the stone walls and floor. The feeling that she wasn't alone crept up her spine and raised the tiny hair on the back of her neck. Shivering, Evangeline wrapped her arms around herself. Suddenly, she missed the warmth and comfort of the Gryffindor common room. The fire was always going and it made her feel at ease.
Why had she let those girls talk her into this? She was only eleven, she didn't have to be brave. Surely the Headmistress would not kick her out of Hogwarts for not being brave.
If only she had these thoughts while being dared to search for the ghost of one Emma Birch, whom supposedly haunted the dungeons. It was not, Evangeline had learned, the place where the sixteen-year-old girl's life had ended but as she had been from the house with a snake as its mascot, it was the place her spirit had returned to. That common room was down here somewhere, she'd been told.
Something - the small blonde girl wasn't quite sure what - but something made her stop in her tracks suddenly. There was a low, dull thumping noise. Or maybe that was her heart beating so loudly she thought it was coming from outside her body.
"H-h-hello?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Remembering that she was supposed to be brave, Evangeline tried again.
"Hello! Is Emma Birch here?"
The sound of her own words bouncing back at her off the walls made her jump.
It was simply too tempting not to.
Poppy sat braced against the cold, stone wall, hands clasped tight over her mouth so as not to the let the sudden giggle of her epiphone escape. She didn’t have anything against the girl, and she wasn’t doing it to be mean. The fact was, she just had to.
Poppy was not afraid of the dark. It was hard to be when your light switch growing up was sunrise and set, or when you knew there were just as many awful things waiting for you during the day as at night. She wasn’t afraid of tight spaces, either. Tight spaces meant shelter, a place to hide things or find them. She wasn’t afraid of the cold and damp, and until rather recently in her life, she’d never even believed in ghosts.
So when, completely by accident, she’d stumbled upon the wavery calls of someone who
was in a dim, soggy dungeon, she’d been struck by the plan and never even considered not following through. The stories of Emma Birch were some of the first older years taunted unsuspecting newbies with, but Poppy had been disappointed from the very first day by their empty lies. Her presence in the dungeons now had been a fruitless last hope. But she was about to turn this wasted trip around for herself.
She could hear the hesitant scrape of footsteps just ‘round the corner, and took one big gulp of breath suppressing the last of her threatening guffaws.
“OO-oo-oO-oooohhh!” she pushed the air through her hollowed throat and mouth so it resonated in the cavernous hall, “It is I-I-I-I! The gho-oo-oo-st of Emma Bi-i-irch!”
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